Spilled Tea and Memories
Hi tea friends, and welcome back to Go ahead, give me the tea. When I first introduced this series, I promised you that our conversations would move naturally through farm life, kitchen life, and tea life—weaving together the everyday moments and the deeper themes that connect them.
As a clinical counselor and mental wellness advocate, I love sharing topics that support emotional wellness. As a gentle reminder, this isn't a clinical space and I'm not offering therapy here—just some real-life reflections from my heart to your cup.
Today, I want to talk about spilled tea... and memories.
The Anatomy of a Kitchen Disaster
Recently, my husband was fighting off a stubborn spring cold. I went into the kitchen to blend a fresh, supportive cold and flu tonic. I was working with fresh ginger and turmeric root, lemon, and a bit of garlic—which I don’t particularly care for, but it is incredibly supportive for the immune system. I also added elderberry, marshmallow root to soothe a sore throat, and a handful of warming spices.
Somewhere along the way, while I was chopping and prepping, my mind suddenly wandered back to a very specific date: November 11, 2019.
That was the day a beautiful, hot-simmered batch of elderberry syrup met my kitchen floor.
If you don't know about elderberry syrup, it’s a concentrated berry blend packed with antioxidants to fight off colds. It is incredibly time-consuming to simmer and strain from scratch, and it isn't cheap to make.
So when it hit the floor back then, it didn't just spill. It splattered across the cabinets, dripped down the cabinet doors, pooled across the floor, and left a massive, sticky mess—and a completely defeated Enjonae.
It felt like a total disaster in the moment. Standing there in that exact same spot recently, moving through almost identical physical motions, the memory felt so vivid it was as if it had happened yesterday. The frustration and helplessness of that old cleanup came rushing right back.
The Brain’s Warning Signs
Standing at the counter, it made me think about how our minds automatically connect the past to physical cues—the specific layout of a room, the sound of chopping, or even the posture of our hands.
That memory came to my mind instantly because the environment felt exactly the same. In reality, my mind was just trying to protect me. It flashed an internal warning sign, trying to keep me from repeating history and ending up with another sticky mess to mop up. It is truly amazing how the brain works to keep us safe based on where we've been.
But that brought me to the real truth of the matter.
The True Lesson: Our Hands Are Free
Here is the lesson: our memories don't make us. They show us where we've been, but they do not dictate where we are going. A past mess does not mean a future failure.
We don't change how a space feels by avoiding it; we change it by showing up and knowing that a past moment doesn't define our present reality. Today is a new day, and we are entirely free to keep creating, keep trying, and keep growing.
Take a deep breath. I’ll see you next time.
We've all had those kitchen disasters that sick with us forever. One of my memorable ones was a giant batch of elderberry syrup in 2019. What is the one kitchen mess you'll never forget?
