By Donna Letier
This time of year has a way of speeding up. Our calendars fill, our days get shorter, and the pressure to do and be everything seems to settle in the air like frost. We race from gathering to gathering, from task to task, trying to squeeze warmth into the edges of winter.
And yet — there is a quieter rhythm available to us.
Last week, as I prepared to speak at the Hilltop Holdings Holiday Women’s Tea at the Mort Meyerson, Symphony Center, I kept finding myself returning to one line:
Take time for tea.
Not tea as a beverage — but tea as a posture.
Tea as a practice.
Tea as a reminder that we’re allowed to stop, to savor, to settle into a moment and remember who we are.
It sounds simple. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized it’s an invitation.
An invitation to pause, to savor, to reconnect with yourself in the middle of a very busy season.
Tea asks us to slow down for just a moment — to steep, to breathe, to be present. And the ritual doesn’t have to be grand. It can be as small as warming your hands on a mug, clipping a sprig of mint from your patio herb garden, or simply sitting still for two minutes before the day begins.
In the garden, we learn that small rituals become the foundation of growth. Tiny actions, repeated with intention, make a difference.
The same is true for us.
Taking time for tea is really about taking time for you:
- to notice how you’re feeling,
- to honor what you need,
- to give yourself permission to rest,
- to let the moment be enough.
And when you bring herbs into the ritual — a bit of sage for grounding, mint for clarity, rosemary for energy — it becomes even more meaningful. Growing something you use in your daily life creates a tangible connection to nature, especially in winter when the world feels cold and still.
Your tea becomes a moment of wellness you grew yourself.
I often say that gardening teaches us what it means to be human: to nurture, to trust the process, to find joy in small things. A tea garden is a perfect reminder of that. It’s simple, accessible, and restorative. It meets you exactly where you are.
You cannot grow if you’re always rushing.
You cannot bloom if you’re always bracing.
Growth needs softness.
It needs stillness.
It needs space.
Nature demonstrates this truth so simply:
- A seed doesn’t apologize for needing darkness and quiet before it breaks open.
- A plant doesn’t feel guilty when it leans toward the light.
- A garden doesn’t rush its seasons — it trusts them.
And tea — humble, fragrant, unhurried tea — carries that same wisdom.
You cannot rush a cup of tea into tasting good.
You cannot force the flavor to unfold.
You cannot microwave the experience of being present.
So, when I say “take time for tea,” what I really mean is:
Take time to pause.
Take time to remember what nourishes you.
Take time to savor, even in small doses.
Take time to warm your own spirit before you pour into anyone else.
Even a minute or two can reset something inside you. And maybe that’s the heart of this season.
As we move through this beautiful, busy season, I hope you’ll carve out a few minutes to take time for tea. To breathe. To reconnect with something that grounds you. To let nature — even in the form of a single sprig of mint — steady you.
It’s amazing how much calm can settle in with just one cup.
So, my hope for you this week is simple:
that you find a small, quiet space to breathe…
to savor…
to warm your own spirit…
and to take time — truly take time — for tea.
Growing together,
Donna