Let me paint you a picture. It was very early on a crisp, Sunday morning in Minnesota. I was snuggled under the blankets not wanting to venture out into the chilly bedroom air. Even though it was 25 degrees outside and the first snow of the season had just fallen, I was wearing my summer pajamas (probably why the air seemed chilly). My six-month-old puppy, Zoe, was slowly starting to move around and I knew that my “snuggle time” was limited. I avoided making any sudden moves, and I burrowed even deeper into my warm, soft, and very comfortable bed. After a few moments, I sighed. It was time. I sat up, reached for my fleece robe, and pulled on the super soft socks I had tossed on the floor the night before. At the first sign of movement, Zoe’s little brown eyes opened, focused completely on me, and her tail began to wag. A couple of seconds later, she pounced and I was being showered with little puppy kisses. The day had officially begun.
Zoe is ready to go at a moment’s notice. Me? Not so much. She pounces and bounces her way through life, and this morning was certainly no exception. She energetically made her way down the stairs stopping briefly on the landing to ensure that I truly was on my way to share in this fabulous new day. The fact that I was stumbling along behind her with my eyes partially closed didn’t discourage her. She was ready for adventure. I was simply trying to find my way to the kitchen. She greets and experiences every moment as if it were the greatest surprise ever. Me? I need my tea.
I’m not sure how or when this became such a ritual in my life. I just know that over time I have come to look forward to my morning tea. I love the smell of the spices mingling together, the feel of the warm cup in between my hands, the taste of the velvety smooth mixture, and the feeling that I can wake up while enjoying something so decadent. This time in the morning has officially been dubbed “tea time”, and all members of my family are aware of its importance to me. In all honesty, tea time is about more than the tea. It’s about the connections. Tea time is my time to reconnect my mind and body so I can move forward with the day. It is my time to connect with my husband (on the weekends) and to connect with my sons (when they have the time). Some people meditate. Some run. Some practice yoga. Me? I drink tea.
I mentioned to my husband a while back that I was thinking about starting a blog. I don’t remember his exact words, but he muttered something along the lines of, “It’s about time.” He’s long been a supporter of my writing aspirations, and has been impatiently waiting for me to take that inevitable next step. As we sat that morning and quietly sipped our morning tea (well, coffee for him), we decided to take a cue from Zoe and bounce around some potential ideas for a blog; a theme. Even though we had a pronounced lack of energy, we had a surprising number of ideas. It didn’t take long, however, for something to “speak to me”.
I looked at my husband and asked, “What about hats?”
“Hats? What about them?”
“The theme . . . the title.”
“I don’t get it,” he said.
I realized that while my mind had been racing down a specific path, I hadn’t shared the thought process with him. So, I took a few steps back and attempted to explain.
“I wear a lot of hats in life. Not actual hats, but proverbial hats. I have my Mommy Hat (my boys are grown, but I still wear that hat), my Researcher Hat, my Professor Hat, my Writing Hat . . . get it?”
“Hmmm . . . I don’t have hats. I have boxes.”
“What?”
“I have boxes; the Work Box, the Sports Box, the ‘To Do’ Box, and my personal favorite, the Nothing Box.”
I chuckled. Years ago, I stumbled across a YouTube video in which Mark Gungor discussed the communication styles of men and women. I was surprised my husband remembered the video. The premise was that women’s brains are always buzzing with activity; they can’t seem to turn them off. Men’s brains, however, are comprised of boxes; they compartmentalize everything. The Nothing Box, according to him, is the place men go to simply “veg out”, and when women ask what they are thinking about, they can honestly say, “Nothing.”
We both thought about it for a bit while continuing to sip our morning beverages. I kept toying with the idea, and liked the possibilities. It made sense to me. This would be a place where I could write about things relevant to the hats I wear; parenting, child development, family relationships, education, writing, and perhaps even some of Zoe’s crazy puppy shenanigans.
When I finished my tea, I went upstairs, sat at the keyboard, and looked out the window. Everything was so still; the cloudy sky, the naked trees, and the sprinkling of fresh, white snow. It was winter in Minnesota. It occurred to me, though, that while we had just entered the season of hibernation, I had transitioned into a new season of my own – a season of rebirth. And, much like Zoe, I was excited for the adventure.
Welcome to Hats and Boxes.