Tea

Yesterday I met a man whose religion, so to speak, is tea.  Teais a vessel for his spirituality and his connection to God, even though he doesn't want to give God a definition or a name.

I'm ADD so this has nothing much to do with the previous statement except that I compared this man's outdoor, impromptu, public tea ceremonies to performance art.  I think it would be brilliant to actually write the word "gullible" on the ceiling.  I believe the first time someone told me that the word was on the ceiling I fell for it and immediately understood its genius: the very thing on the ceiling that is not really there is the definition of believing that it is.  I was ashamed and deeply affected by my failure to withstand this joke and to actually put the word on the ceiling would have a sort of vindictive quality, like, "see? It was really there all along!  Or at least it's not an impossibility!"

The guy has a tea leaf tattooed on his wrist and wants to be a sort of tea monk in Asia. 

I believe that it is such a precious thing, to have little "romances" with strangers for a few minutes or even hours. Not flirtatious, just, you meet, then you get wrapped up so intensely in each others' words, then you look at the time, and then you never see each other again. 

But you know how if you touch a butterfly, it can change the course of the entire future of the universe? These romances alter both of us in unimaginable and unforgettable ways. 

And guess what: this tea guy? We're still friends. We work in the same mall, after all. Sometimes he makes me tea. (Shhh)

He wants to read about my experience in Kenya if I ever make it through the emotional process of writing it.  So sweet!

Sweet just like that blueberry tea I sampled in the shop ;)