For five years during high school, I would wake up at 0515hrs in order to catch the bus.
I wasn’t enthusiastic about waking up so early. My morning routine was a mundane and methodical traverse through showering, putting on my school uniform, eating cornflakes, and packing my bags with the necessary books and sports equipment for the day ahead.
I have neglected to the mention the tea.
Each morning I would be woken up by my Dad bringing me a cup of hot tea.
Dad’s tea-making skills aren’t spectacular: sometimes he doesn’t add enough milk, and sometimes the tea itself is weak …either the second use of the bag, or a hasty meeting between bag and water before the bag was transferred to another cup.
Despite this, starting each day sitting up in bed sipping tea was something I appreciated. Finishing the tea served as a natural prompt to get out of bed.
Over time, I have come to see this ritual, played out over several years in the pleasant cool and dark at dawn, as a lesson in love.
Dad’s tea-making showed me the value of service and consistency.
It also highlighted the importance of interacting with people on an even footing. There were no negotiations or stern words about waking up and getting out of bed. I was served, not coerced.
Now, I try to replicate Dad’s service and consistency, as a way of showing love to others: in particular, through serving my housemates in small but consistent ways. And because the motivation is love, I do it without any sense of pressure, obligation, or disaffection. The overriding emotion is joy.