As a result, I was acutely aware of everything that went into making my coffee, including the weather and all the way down to the cup I used.

I had to learn the hard way about stress management and self-care.

Following the death of my father, I let myself to spend two years in mourning because I felt I was “too strong” to accept assistance. It was difficult for me to recognise how my sadness was impacting me.

I was exhausted and worn out. I wasn't getting enough rest. Even my hair was falling out.

My health problems only became worse after the burglary that happened in the spring. I no longer have an appetite. My work deteriorated as a result.

Even when I was desperately trying to prevent myself from being depressed, I always seemed to slide right back into it.

grief may transform into a sickness

Low blood levels that went unnoticed for years triggered extra testing and appointments with experts when discovered during an annual assessment.

After getting intravenous iron infusions, I attempted to eat healthier, but nothing worked. The sorrow had begun to eat away at my blood and my soul, according to Gujarati sayings.

I waited another year before seeking treatment. When I did, my doctor spoke sternly but compassionately to me.

I had lost my previous strength. I must first attend to myself. Not caring for yourself was selfish.

In addition to fixing her longtime anemia and fibroids, she advised a hysterectomy to repair my lifetime anemia and fibroids and offer me the chance to live my "best life."

Her admonition to put myself first was sobering, even if it seemed culturally incorrect since I am a self-employed South Asian mother. If I didn't put myself first, I felt as if I was violating my cultural identity.

Although these concerns are taboo in South Asian society, we must be able to talk about mourning, mental health, and women's reproductive health. When women are expected to give up their jobs and lives to the demands of their families, they are, in effect, martyrs.

Over time, it became obvious that these assumptions were well-founded. However, in the context of my teenage daughter, it was necessary for me to consider the many ways my behaviour may affect her life.

I completed all the required preparations and had the surgery in December of 2019. Things looked to be on the mend.

turning in on oneself

Following the suggestion of a friend, I participated in a guided group meditation in January 2020, but the distress of my loss reappeared as I tried to concentrate.

More complicated emotions emerged in the absence of skilled specialists or privacy during consultations. All these raw feelings piled on, and I fell into a deeper depression.

I had lost my motivation, so I quit the group.

I used a pen and burnt the pages of my reflection book, removing the reminders of my perceived failure. I had to break free of this “all or nothing” perspective in order to explore my own path to healing and happiness.

On one of those day-long thoughtful days, I realised that I was last really joyful and full of spirit four years previously when touring tea fields in southern India.

In the eucalyptus trees the air was fresh and scented, while on the slopes there were tea bushes. When I saw the tea pickers with stained fingers, I couldn't help but grin at their little quirk. The market areas were bursting with fresh fruit, herbs, and spices.

It was a song that had come as a complete surprise to us and my mother was there to cheer us on. It had been a decade since I'd heard her sing.

We had a feeling it wasn't paradise, but we thought it could be as near as we could get. There were peaceful periods and new insights to be found in life. Stop and breathe whenever you can, since it's difficult to stop and just take a breath. I was completely free of anxiety.

In my despair and sadness, I yearned for it as never before.

While researching tea and herbal blends, I was undecided whether or not my Georgia garden could hold a few tea bushes and a few Ayurvedic plants.

a new start

Four 1-year-old tea plants just arrived from a southern Georgia nursery, just as the world came to a halt in March. When spring came, growth and a reason to go outside were both expected.

After learning about tea growing, harvesting times, and experimenting with my own homemade oxidised tea leaves, I started learning about the proper method of preparing chai, the Hindi term for “chai.”

I didn't buy a greenhouse.

Reading about teas made me want to experiment with the plants I had around the house for making herbal teas.

Mint, white sage, and lemongrass were some of the scents I looked for. My original patch had perished, so I replaced it with fresh turmeric and ginger rhizomes. I was able to collect the honeysuckle blooms that had slipped my attention previously and use them to make tea.

The health benefits of almost every portion of that turmeric were found. Taken from the leaves, its rhizomes gave a pleasant tisane. The rhizomes were also used to produce an exquisitely fragrance ghee, a health tonic.

When I'm in the garden, I'm more likely to remember to cook something for dinner, because it's always just around the corner in the kitchen. My patch of turmeric rhizomes had grown considerably due to neglect.

More than 50 beautiful, fragrant roses were produced by the two old-fashioned rose bushes during the course of a single summer day, more than enough to produce an entire jar of rose-petal candy for my daily teas. It balances all three doshas thanks to its sweet, cooling properties.

I'm mostly vata (of the kapha kind) when it comes to eating, which has a large effect on my mood and feeling of well-being. One of my favourite cupboard additions, I started paying more attention to my nutrition, and turmeric ghrita was one of the results.

I spent the day researching India's medicinal beverage, simple Ayurvedic brews, tea, and the history of chai, so I could enjoy it later in the day when it was too hot to be outdoors.

Though Ayurveda does seem to be esoteric, it isn't. It's all about finding the right balance.

I investigated the issue, including learning about how tea is cultivated and the pandemic that impacted the producers. While I focused on Indian tea and brews, I studied how climate affects tea and brews in the area.

The warming spice saffron is, for instance, found in Kashmiri Kahwa tea. In the Himalayan area, yak butter tea is known as Tchaku cha.

After poring over grandfathers' memoirs, I even found a tea-less “tea” that was used by India's liberation struggle in the country'

I saw how many regional beers, like those in my area, had been overlooked in cookbooks because they were not fashionable or well-known enough. Local spices were used to get the health advantages of these regional beverages.

My study of the brews my mother and grandmother brewed for me as a youngster brought to light how important they were to me. I discovered that subtle differences, intricacies, and the interplay with society produced unique teas and chais.

Adding a handful of various components to a pot of boiling water did not produce a decent beverage. I was going to devote more time and attention to tea than I did.