Eccentric Tea Woman

  I woke up and knew that everything had changed. I glanced around as I yawned and stretched, seeing the leftover results from last night's party all over the floor. Yes, I thought with a smile, it was a fun time. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet on the hardwood floor, ensuring that I wouldn't topple over when I stood up. I stood up. I placed my hands on my hips. I grinned. I entered the living room and noticed a sleeping form on my couch. The figure gave a loud snore, and I realized who it was. I kicked the figure lightly, then stood back as Paul rolled over and yawned loudly. My mouth tastes terrible , he groaned as he focused his bloodshot eyes on me. Did you just kick me? Time for you to leave , I replied in a sincere tone. It was a lot of fun last night, but I need to get ready for work. Paul sat up and scratched under his armpits, reminding me of a bear, then replied - got any matches? He began to pat down his rumpled shirt, then noticed a ma

  When Olivia woke up on a rainy Saturday, she realized that everything had changed. She looked at the rain storm outside her old windows in her bedroom then smiled as she slid out of bed. She walked down the narrow hall to her kitchen to prepare a cup of tea then stopped as she reached her living room. There were beer bottles all over the floor, along with issues of The New Yorker , several poetry books, and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, some lipstick stained, and others just stained. She glanced at the sight, then plodded towards her kitchen. She really wanted a cup of tea. A rainy Saturday means that I can stay in and watch movies , she thought as she prepared her kettle. Olivia lowered her bag of Earl Grey tea into the mug and said aloud, “I don’t care anymore. All of it. None of it.” Although her words barely came out in a whisper, she felt as though the world heard her finalizations. Once everything was ready and the kettle slowly boiled the water, Olivia returne

  Ever since I decided to move my small business from Etsy to Shopify, I have received several emails from supposed people who claim that while they LOVE my website, they have the power to make it SO MUCH BETTER! They have the tools to increase my followers, drive more traffic, and make more money because honestly, who wouldn't want to make more money? Yesterday, I received an email from a man who had seen my YouTube channel  and told me that while it looked good, he was able to make it SO MUCH BETTER! More followers, bigger, faster, the works! I reached out and told him that I was fine with what I had. He thanked me for replying and added that if I changed my mind, I could reach out to him. I blocked him. I took a deep breath and asked myself (and later my boyfriend): why are we so consumed with making everything bigger, faster, cooler, with more dollar signs? Why can't we just accept it (whatever IT is) as what it is? Why not enjoy the moderately designed website, the moderat

  For the longest time, I worked in Corporate America by way of investment firms and banks. I completed my tasks, got paid, made some friends/associates, and felt a little empty inside but it was what I had to do. I had bills to pay, an apartment to upkeep, and my life to enjoy. One day in 2019, I decided to leave my current job because I learned that my manager not only threw me under the bus with regard to a work assignment but also when I confronted her with the truth that yes, I had completed what she claimed I didn't, she never replied or acknowledged that she was wrong. I couldn't work under those conditions, and so I turned in my notice and began the shaky path of being self-employed. For those of you who don't know, I own an online tea business plus I am a published author. I guess I am a creative professional or something along those lines. I spent some time working solely on my loose leaf tea blends and my novels that would be published either through my publisher

For quite some time, I have been an avid player of MMORPGs, specifically World of Warcraft and recently, Guild Wars 2 . I love the feeling of when I am about to delve into the fantasy world riddled with quests, meeting NPCs, and avoiding/engaging with other players. The scenery of each area, coupled with the sweeping music, makes me happily lose an hour or two of my day. However, it has recently dawned on me that while these games are fantastic to play, there are many lessons to learn regarding life. Here are several that I learned: One - Life is NEVER black and white. When you begin your journey into WoW or GW 2, you spend time creating your character. The race, gender, profession, and even colour of hair are quite important. You even get to choose your affiliation (Horde vs. Alliance) and so when you strike out into the world, you steadfastly hold on to what you believe in. However, the more you level up, the more you begin to see the blurred lines, that not everyone is pure evil no

  Paul stood before the blank canvas as he smoked his third cigarette within an hour. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his empty hand. He had nothing. After all these years of crawling through muck and insults, he finally became one of the top artists in the country. He adored the fame and the riches that came from pieces that he created, yet he had no idea it would all come crashing down around him. He opened his eyes and took a long drag off his cigarette, then blew the smoke at the canvas that silently cried out to him to be used. Use me, the canvas wailed. Put your mark on me, for god's sake, and don't think too hard about it. You're a master, or have you forgotten? Paul nodded to himself, agreeing with the desperate voice. He glanced down at his paints and brushes and for a moment, wondered what they were. What in the hell was he doing? He finished his cigarette and then threw it into his extremely cold cup of green tea that he neglected to drink this mo

I dreamt I saw you before me. You hadn't changed a bit. Still the same asshole that I thought could change my life. In this dream, you smiled and I wondered if you were sad. How strange our minds can become when we are broken like discarded dolls. Perhaps when I awaken I shall realize my mistake of ever taking you seriously. Forgive me; my sins are still Being washed from my skin.  Viridian Tea Company - Tea, Books, and Artwork! Click HERE for the website!

  The gods of old speak to me. I refuse to listen, simply because I've got better things to do. They tell me to listen, Childe. Listen and understand that you are finally free to believe in us again. I raise my head and scream - how dare you! How dare you tell me to believe in you when that's all I've done? Because I believed in you, I was led astray. The gods fall silent, yet I am not done. I listened to those who were touched by you. I wanted to follow in their footsteps but instead I was mauled, raped, manipulated, and spit out over and over. Why should I believe in you when you've shown me nothing but darkness? The gods ponder my heated words and leave me alone for a while. When they return, they speak as one: We showed you magick because you are a part of it. You listened to others with the same colours only they have lost their way. They showed you their version of what we are but mangled and tangled and unable to be set free. You saw through it and walked away an

  I want, I feel the need to control everything in my life. If I don't control every little fiber of my life, then something will go wrong. I will fall down on my face in shame and embarrassment. I will be a failure.  I used to be like that until quite recently. Like last week recently. I received not-so-good news regarding my small business on Friday afternoon. The letter fell from my hand and my eyes focused on nothing before me. I felt as though I had done something wrong when only later I learned that it was an honest mistake that would be handled in time. I kept asking myself how this could have happened to me. After all, I was in control of everything, right? Wrong. Yes, I am the owner of a micro business (I have no employees and no storefront), yet it has been a struggle these past several years. I am now waiting to hear from a job that will hopefully get me out of this quagmire. I was frustrated with myself for not having everything under control - I thought everything was

  A young woman walked into the room, glanced around at the plethora of books for sale, and then noticed the older man assisting a customer as he stood behind the checkout table. He must be a volunteer, she thought as she began to slowly peruse the titles ready to be purchased and carted off to their new home. She flipped through a box of Fiction titles, only to wander to another box filled with graphic novels. She pulled out several books in a non-committal manner, then walked up to the man and set the books before him. Oliver offered her a smile that spoke - Welcome to the library book sale. So glad to see you here! Can you help me, she asked him, as his smile faltered just a little. I'm not sure which book to purchase, so could you read through them and let me know which ones sound interesting? The man resumed his regular smile as he replied - sure, glad to do it. The two other volunteers watched with careful eyes as he gently flipped through each book and read their dust jacket

  When I turned 50 several weeks ago, I also turned into a knitter. For the longest time, I thought that knitting was some form of magick that I would never be able to access, let alone understand. I also thought that knitting was a hobby that little old ladies did in their spare time. Once I turned 50 and delved into knitting, I found that I was dead wrong. My boyfriend purchased a beginner's kit for me, then I took off. I purchased bamboo needles, watched an excellent beginner's knitting video  , and made time for this new hobby. Yesterday, I delved deeper into the world of knitting and discovered many organizations, yarn suppliers, and people who are passionate and happy about their love of knitting. I, too, found a hidden joy I didn't know I had, for it dawned on me that knitting was a HOBBY. For the longest time, reading and later working with tea were my hobbies until they became my job. I had no idea that I didn't have any hobbies to claim as a way to calm down a

 You're not crazy, she told me over the phone. In fact, I'm rather glad you trusted me enough to tell me these things. I smiled even though I knew she wouldn't be able to see it. I can hear voices all around me, she added. My mother used to threaten me with sending me to a mental hospital, until I spoke of how her husband, my father, was cheating on her. After that, she never bothered me again with those empty threats. So, I asked, would you consider yourself to be a witch? Oh yeah, she immediately replied. Do you think I am, I asked her, hoping like hell she would tell me no, of course not. She fell silent and then replied - yes. Yes you are. Why are you even asking me? I laughed off her reply, but I knew it was true. Especially lately, when the dreams come at night. We hung up, and I felt those soft and cold hands from my dreams touching my arms, comforting me while a voice whispered French in my ear. Oh Marie, he sighed, my sweet sweet Marie. My name isn't Marie, I w

 I had no idea it would be like this. The way he looked at me, my immediate response whether I liked it or not, and the fact that I would always be his. It wasn't supposed to be like the books I used to devour, those cute romance titles with pastel-coloured covers and titles that were so sweet and innocent that they made my fillings hurt. If he read my mind, he would have laughed, then held me in his arms and proceeded to tell me that no, I would never be free from him and yes, his love was real. I had given up smoking when I met him that one evening when I didn't want to go home because I knew what awaited me there - loneliness, despair, and a manuscript that silently screamed at me - come back to me, come back and finish what you started! Instead, I sat in a small bar with my nearly empty pack of cigarettes, my one beer that I nursed, and an invisible barrier that blocked anyone from speaking to me. I liked being unapproachable. I liked looking as though I would scratch your

  This is a lesson that I just learned.  This morning began like so many mornings: wake up, play with the dog, look at the games on my phone, make tea, talk with my boyfriend, scroll through social media. Every time that I look at Instagram on my phone, I flick the screen with my thumb and give out likes to posts that appeal to me or have a pleasing/funny/insightful aesthetic. Once I've exhausted the list, I get dressed and jump-start into the day. However, by the time I "liked" my third post, I stopped and looked up from my phone. Something had dawned on me that I wasn't proud of and I had no idea that I had done it for so long. I liked posts without even looking at them. I didn't give the post more than five seconds of my attention before I went to the next one. I've been working on my mindfulness/meditation practices lately and the difference has been quietly astounding. I allowed my mind to settle before I looked at what I was doing. Millions of people use

Tea Muse    Me: (listening to the sounds of birds in my office while writing) Frederica: (sitting on a cushion with eyes closed as she's also listening to the birds) Tea Muse: (looking at both of us while floating in midair) Have you two reached enlightenment yet? Me and Frederica: Shhhh. Tea Muse: (grumbling) Fine, I guess I'll meditate too. (sits in a crosslegged position in midair and closes her eyes)  The birds chirp for another ten minutes, then the session ends with a light tap on a piece of wood.  Me: (looking at my journal) Another good session of journaling! Frederica: (opening her eyes and stretching) Another good session of breathwork! Tea Muse: (quiet and still in her meditation pose) Me: Hey, we're done with -  Tea Muse: Shhhh. Not done yet. Frederica: (shrugging) I guess it's her turn to be enlightened.  Tea Muse: (sighing) Senchaaa....... Frederica

  This morning, I woke up to learn that I man I'd never heard of had died. Luis Vasquez of the band The Soft Moon had passed. A Goth band that I love made a post about his passing today, and when I looked at his band's profile on Instagram, I read many comments from people who mourned his passing, plus acknowledged how much they loved his music. I located his website and listened to several of his songs, then got angry at the fact that I wished I had known of his music sooner. If you're into post-punk, Goth/Industrial, or music that speaks to your soul, you need to give The Soft Moon a listen. While listening to the song Nada, my mind began to wander in a good way. I thought about highly talented artists like him, as well as indie authors, singer-songwriters, artists, dancers, and everyone else who has a creative backbone. Do they get the recognition they deserve? Are people seeking them out through word of mouth or by discovering their talents online? In being the owner of

  a woman stared at me -  twice -  as I walked by her to get some water. I wanted to ask, does my presence disturb you? Instead, I fell silent because there is a greater  mystery to discover. one within ourselves. then again, maybe she  just needed water. 

  Finally, she said, I am ready to see the colours. She closed her eyes and opened her heart to the inner world that patiently  waited for her. It started slowly, mostly because  of the screaming winds outside. She saw those winds, saw who created them  in her mind, and with a flick of her paint-stained fingers, they disappeared. Was it really that easy, she wondered. All the years I allowed them to consume pieces of my soul. A voice, neutral in tone, asked - why are you still living so small? Her eyes opened in surprise as the truth was laid out before her. The colors lingered, knowing that there was more. She took her soul into her hands.  Now I am whole, I said.  Viridian Tea Company - Tea, Books, Art, & Photography! Click HERE for the Etsy store link!