Change, Loss, And A Mug Of Tea

If you are experiencing change or loss, take a gentle, ambient journey to a stone cottage on a bleak, green hillside amidst sheep and lichen-covered stones. Drink some tea, receive some wisdom, take a break, and find some peace in a faraway cozy place. Come away restored (or ready for a nap!).

Transcript

Change,

Loss,

And a mug of tea.

Welcome.

Something has changed,

And it's tough to get your mind around it.

Maybe someone is gone now,

And life just doesn't make sense.

Or you lost a job,

And you don't know what's next.

It's all been pulled out from under you,

And you're supposed to function,

But let's face it,

It's unmanageable sometimes.

So maybe it's time to get away.

Leave it all behind for a while.

Get a different perspective.

Maybe drink some tea.

To begin,

Close your eyes.

Settle into your seat,

Or wherever you are,

And notice your breath for a moment.

You don't need to change it.

Simply notice your inhale,

And then your exhale.

Let it be okay that you want to escape from feeling anything,

Or dealing with anything.

It's just where you are,

And so be it.

Allow yourself to reject whatever the change or loss is.

Go ahead,

Resist all of it.

No one's going to stop you here.

It's okay to be in a hopeless place about all of it.

You're staring at a small red berry shiny on a dirt trail.

A grayish grassy hillside opens before you,

And it feels like it might rain.

Goldstones covered in lichen dot the slopes around you as you walk the narrow winding path,

And the hills form valleys for miles.

I'm not entirely sure what century you've wandered into,

Because we haven't seen a road in an hour,

And quaint stone cottages huddle together in tiny villages.

It's misting ever so slightly,

And a wind has kicked up.

Purple splotches are the only bright color you see,

And when you get close to them on the trail,

You notice they are spear thistles,

Daunting and beautiful.

You keep wandering.

The sky darkens as you finally reach the top of a hill,

And you see a group of low stone farmhouses gathered in a valley below.

The sound of sheep rises up to meet you,

And a little fog is rolling in as you start to descend.

The cold damp hits your face,

And you experience some anticipation.

You're almost there.

The woman,

The author that writes small,

Intricate books about her small,

Intricate world,

Lives a stone's throw away from where you're walking.

Her minute observations have brought some relief in this time of uncertainty and change,

If only for a few minutes a day.

So you're going to visit her.

When you reach the farmhouses,

You admire the stone walls and make your way through a herd of sheep,

Their fluffy coats brushing against you as you walk slowly through.

In the gray fog,

It's tough to pick out details,

But you do notice bright red doors on each farmhouse.

When you reach the last one,

The hill descends steeply just past it,

And below you see a small well-made stone cottage just down the hill.

Leaving the sheep behind,

You descend a small trail,

Noticing that door you're approaching is also bright red,

But with an ornate pattern of a tree.

We've seen this door in some of the author's books,

So this must be the place.

You follow the sneaking path to her doorstep.

Raindrops hit your face as you knock on the door.

Is she home?

Because now you need shelter.

You rub your hands together in the raw evening and hope that the author hasn't ventured off somewhere.

The door opens.

The woman appears with her long,

Dark gray wavy hair resting on an ivory wool shawl.

She watches you for a moment with clear gray eyes and doesn't say anything.

Her dress is long,

Dark green,

And made of wool.

In a moment,

She nods her head and opens the door,

No questions asked.

You wonder if you're her first visitor.

Inside,

You see out a wide window in the back that opens to the hills beyond.

The afternoon is darkening.

Her wood stove holds a teapot with steam rising.

The place looks a little like a converted chapel,

With some stained glass lining the windows,

Small gargoyles in the high corners,

And an exposed stone wall.

What a place to write,

You ponder,

As you see a small wooden desk with a stack of papers on it.

The quiet moaning of the wind gets louder as you notice two plaid upholstered chairs sitting by the window,

Each with exposed wooden arms,

And wide wood planks cover the floor.

As you take a few steps,

You picture a small circle of people chanting things here.

You imagine prayers being whispered here,

Long hours of observing weather,

Maybe peaceful naps when needed.

As you admire the burgundy curtains,

You sense there is space for things to change here,

To evolve,

To emerge.

The woman offers you a mug of black spicy tea as you make your way to one of the plaid chairs.

You grab the deep green blanket draped on the back of it and cover your legs as you sit down.

The tea smells faintly of cardamom.

You still haven't spoken,

But it feels right to stay silent.

On one of the walls you discover an ancient-looking tapestry depicting some big moment in history.

You're not sure which one.

Bunches of rosemary hang near the wood stove.

So much has changed in your life,

But things seem a little more okay here.

The woman sits in a nearby chair and sips her own tea.

You sit quietly in your state of betwixt between and not knowing what's next.

So much not knowing,

Like standing at the edge of a cliff or having an ogre of stuckness on your lap that just won't leave.

She glances at you and then looks out the window.

She's not asking anything of you.

You can simply be here.

You sit and breathe.

You study your tea mug and notice a couple things about it that you hadn't at first.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

There is nothing to solve or change.

You are quiet with this moment,

With being here.

Sometimes it doesn't feel safe to feel everything you're going through,

But being around this woman you sense that she's gone through all kinds of loss and pain and grief.

Maybe that's what brought her to this place.

This place where she writes incandescent,

Attentive books amidst the stones and the sheep.

As you get more settled and relaxed,

You find yourself ready to receive whatever wisdom or kind words this writer might have for you.

And without saying anything to her,

She has a knowing about you.

She has wisdom to share and it's exactly what you need right now.

So you look at her and nod.

She smiles in acknowledgement and nods back.

As you take another sip of your tea,

She speaks softly,

Offering words,

Thoughts,

Perspectives,

And you simply receive them.

Go ahead and listen now.

These words are just for you.

The darkness outside has closed in.

The rain continues.

A bird chirps.

You take in the kind truths of this woman.

She sees things from a wider,

Gentler perspective.

You are restored by this kindness and guidance.

These are things for you based on where you are now.

As you take it all in,

You notice an embroidered panel on the wall behind her,

A mandala stitched into a warmly colored fabric.

You wonder if she did it herself.

See here you have a chance to release a little,

To breathe a little,

To let go a little.

There's a wooden statue of a creature towards the entrance seeming to look right at you.

It's good to be so far away so you can meet yourself just as you are.

It's safe.

Eventually the woman finishes talking and lets you just be.

You take another sip of tea and hear a sheep outside somewhere.

At some point the woman assures you there's a small cozy bedroom in one of the barns on the hill and you are welcome to stay the night.

You nod and look out the window.

You take an easy breath.

It's good to be here.

So this journey is coming to a close.

Although I invite you to sit and receive whatever wisdom might still be in the air for you,

You might grab a pen and jot down some of the woman's thoughts.

You never know.

The music will continue for a few more minutes and you're welcome to stay here and keep listening.

Come back anytime.

I wish you well.

May you be at peace.

God bless!

You you you you you you you you you you you

Reviews

Grateful to find this .I woke up quite a bit through night and then came on insight timer before dawn and this nurturing stroll through the countryside ( I visited Ireland to meet my son in laws family and was enchanted) so I felt I was right back there and this relaxed me back to sleep with peaceful music at the end. My sweet 23 1/2 year old cat 🐈‍⬛ Haley crossed the rainbow 🌈 bridge yesterday…it was time ..she was like another daughter to me ( with fur) . Bookmarked and recommended. 💓💫