Life has a variety of states. Sometimes, you can be waiting for something.
Unlike in the play Waiting for Godot, where <SPOILER ALERT> Godot never arrives, most things you wait for actually happen. Along with a bunch of stuff you were not waiting for.
At the moment we are burning down through a list of tasks. Important tasks. Tasks related to reshaping our business and our lives in new directions.
We can take action on many things, but other things have to wait for other people to act. And worst of all, the wheels of bureaucracy to turn.
What tea does one accompany waiting with? Is it a state of mind that needs stimulating, or taking down? Is there a need to be more on edge, or calmed?
A few months ago, we were waiting on a series of decisions to be made as well as having a whole raft of them to make ourselves, and one by one they happened.
Except one: we have been waiting for a decision for two months. One we expected in two weeks. One we made with a few spare weeks up our sleeve, just in case.
So we have to proceed, as the decision is already too late to offer an orderly implementation. We have assumed the decision will turn out the way we want, and we are ploughing ahead.
Every day is frantic. And yet, we wait.
Our Australia blending operation is being reshaped at this time, and this means we have a restricted range of tea.
But endless cups of tea are needed and made. I’ve been starting the day with Kali Chai of late, it moves me from asleep to daytime mode well before sun-up.
I find the stronger teas are needed throughout the day: Mokabari East Assam, 1910. Some Queen Adelaide. We are out of Finbarr’s Revenge and Persian Princess for a while. Getting low on Jim’s Caravan.
A floral in mid afternoon just for a change of palate: Rose Blush it was yesterday.
And a light nightcap of White Nights or Doke Silver Needle before we retire for a few hours sleep.
It’s an odd kind of waiting, not really like Estragon and Vladamir in Waiting for Godot, as (a) in this case, Godot has a published set of service standards and (b) we are not eating turnips.
It’s a frantic, almost unreal kind of waiting.
Suffused with tea.