The Beauty of Chai

This morning was a hectic, mayhem-mommy morning. Even though I awoke later than usual, I was thrust into care for a very fussy Watson and two very whiny older kids from the get-go. My frustration peaked when the parents dropped me and all three little ones off at the park, while they went to run errands. Normally, such a task wouldn't faze me, but I was left with next to nothing to battle the scorching heat and bad attitudes. They proceeded to unravel me, asking for water and mommy and daddy so many times I'll likely hear those phrases in my sleep tonight. Watson could not be cajoled, and my temper rose.

When this happens, thoughts in my brain rise like floodwaters, and before I knew it, I was brought to the brink, being taken advantage of, overworked, underpaid, and HOW DARE THEY BE SO SELFISH! Until this point, I have never understood what old people (old TV shows or songs or movies) mean when they say, "Oh, my poor nerves!" It felt like I was guitar whose strings were being cranked tighter and tighter--and just so you know, that does not feel like any sort of feeling I would like to feel again.

I needed to get away for a little bit, loosen my strings, untangle this unhappy bundle of nerves I had become. So, when I was told that I would have a few hours off this afternoon, I leapt at the chance! Off on another beautiful bike ride on country roads with vineyards and wheat fields whizzing past. In the matter of about an hour and half, I managed to bike to the coast, dip my feet in crystal (yes--crystal) clear water on the shoreline of North Fork, Long Island, trace the pretty multicolored pebbles with my toes, briefly contemplate a skinny dip (remember, untangling the nerves!!), swiftly change my mind upon spying the older man (the only other beach occupant at the time) down aways, and return with sandy feet and new tan lines.

After this outing and a quick shower, I threw on my feel-good coral and navy blue summer dress and headed to Tea Time Cottage of Riverhead, NY. Welcomed by a Nashville radio station and a flower-child entrepreneur, I secured my table for one and pot of Roasted Mate (mah-tay, a South American infused tea-type drink made from yerba mate leaves) Chai, milk and sugar (in-the-raw) on the side.
Here, I wrote this:

When I am lonely, I seek out Chai. In Chai, there is love and truth and comfort. It's spectacular, Chai is, because it's  a rare thing to find both truth and comfort together. Oftentimes, mutual exclusion separates these two mysterious entities (one far more mysterious than the other), which is unfortunate. But, truthfully, if they were tethered in some way, they would both be rendered void. Think about it. If the truth was always comforting, we would have great cause to grow suspicious of its truthfulness--therefore causing discomfort in this probable falsehood.

It is safe to say that I am now untangled.