What a Cold Cup of Tea Taught Me About Completion
Photo by Aniketh Kanukurthi on Unsplash
A few days ago, I found myself forcing down a tepid cup of tea whilst on a break from work. As I sat there drinking it, I realised that I – along with many people I know – tend to force myself to complete things, even when I’m not enjoying them.
The tea was lukewarm – it had sat for around an hour in my thermal mug, and even though the mug is great at doing its job, the tea had lost the comfort and freshness of a warm drink. It wasn't unpleasant enough to pour away; but it wasn't enjoyable enough to savour. It existed in that strange middle ground where I was consuming it simply because it was there. At that point, the tea was simply hydration for hydration’s sake.
Perhaps a more profound realisation is that I was only finishing it as I had set the intention of finishing it. And that made me wonder… Why did I feel so compelled to finish it?
A Wider Issue
There are many other areas of my life where this same habit comes up.
Whether it is finishing a book I'm not enjoying, watching a TV show to the end just because I have started it, or keeping on with a hobby that I no longer enjoy or get anything from…. The list is endless.
Once we've invested time, money or energy into something, it can feel as though stopping would somehow waste that investment. Completion becomes the thing that justifies everything we've already put in.
And this presents itself in other subtle ways. For example, I have a fear of starting podcasts because there is often never an ‘end.’ There are a few limited podcasts, but more often than not they continue for hundreds of episodes. And without finishing it, I cannot mark it off as ‘done’ at any point in the foreseeable future - which is far too much for my brain to handle.
When Something Has Served Its Purpose
Whether it is due to sunk time, energy, resources, identity or guilt, we often see things through that no longer serve us.
Maybe some things finish their purpose in our lives before they finish themselves.
Maybe others lead us somewhere we never expected to go, even if the original goal was never achieved.
These can come in many forms.
A book that had already given me its main idea by chapter three.
A television series that should probably have ended two seasons earlier.
A hobby that taught me what I needed to learn before I quietly moved on.
Case in point - My brief period of taking golf lessons.
Now, I should start this by saying, there is a reason I like solo activities – more often than not, in my spare time, I am scatterbrained and uncoordinated. Golf, I thought, was the answer to this. It was a solo activity, out in nature, and people of all ages, abilities and talents were able to turn their hand to it. 'Past me’ viewed it as something more compatible with my personality.
Safe to say, after I spent an hour in a lesson and was unable to get the club to connect with the ball, it was apparent that golf wasn't for me.
The reality is, golf was something I had a curiosity about exploring and trying out, and the experience of trying it was worthwhile in itself - it taught me that what I was really looking for was time outdoors, quiet focus, and a hobby I could explore at my own pace. The reward was in discovering what I actually wanted, rather than what I thought I wanted.
Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash
Of course, this isn't an argument for giving up whenever something becomes hard. Care should be taken not to stop something that is serving us simply because it is hard or leading us down a different route than we first expected.
Case in point number 2: I started yoga to get back into running. And, to this day, I still have not got back into running.
However, yoga ended up changing my life.
It introduced me to practices, people, communities, experiences and perspectives that I could never have anticipated when I first rolled out a mat.
I didn’t finish what I had set out to in the first place, but I let that idea go and received something better. Yoga served, and continues to serve, me in ways that running never would have.
So to go back to what originally started this reflection - the cup of tea.
The tea went cold long before the mug was empty, but that didn't mean it had been wasted.
It had warmed my hands.
It had given me a reason to pause for a few minutes.
It had done exactly what I needed it to do, and it had served me.
Perhaps finishing the cup of tea was never what gave it value in the first place.
A Few More Small Reflections