Vaclav Havel, playwright, dissident and President, in that order, once wrote an entire letter to his wife about tea. His work was heavily censored in prison, so he took to writing on themes that would be beyond reproach. In his cell, he was allowed the act of brewing cups of tea, and this gave him comfort in what must have been a restricted and narrow world for his intellect. In moments of my life, where things have seemed difficult or the path ahead has been unclear, it is not wine that I want to turn to, but tea that offers me a breath of reflection on my situation. The wonderful restorative properties of tea: lemon or milk, assam or earl grey, breakfast or evening, a cup of tea goes with the kind of solid thought that can put nonsensical and random events through lens of ‘chaos theory’ into a world order that allows me to accept the past and get on with the future.
This blog is about my approach to my sixtieth year, my third age, and my thoughts about our beautiful planet unfolding against a back drop of shifting politics, uncertain economics and changing values. Please pour yourself a cup of tea and join me on reflecting on the world from the viewpoint of one of the middle of the road people, who vote, but lack power, and speak, but are not always heard.