Hello Beautiful Human,

It’s the little things that calls you to you

In 2015, I was on a flight from Lagos to Owerri when we couldn’t land due to bad weather. We had to make a temporary stop in Port Harcourt to wait for the skies to clear. We were stuck for about two hours, waiting to reroute back to Owerri, and all I did during that time was drink tea—at least seven cups, I kept ordering and ordering.

Fast forward to 2020, on a flight from Cape Town back to Lagos, the man sitting next to me said, “You drink a lot of tea,” after I had requested multiple cups.

It never really occurred to me that I loved tea. I just thought, Well, it’s free, so why not have it?

 

It wasn’t until 2024 that I truly realized how much I love tea. Suddenly, all those times I had ordered tea excessively on flights made sense—because I never drank as much at home, but now, in my season of stillness and slowness, I had tea, a lot of tea, I was exploring the different types and flavors of tea, and it finally hit me, when I’m not in so much activity, my heart calls for tea to slow me down even deeper, its why it was mostly in planes I took more because I was mostly in activities except when I’m sleeping or flying.

 

If anything, I should have liked coffee or energy drinks. I started to consume them at the age of 13, and I went for years and years because they were the cool thing to drink, the societal thing to do. They kept me awake to study and work through the night. They served their purpose—until I became fully aware that what I genuinely love is ….tea.

 

Tea tastes sublime, delicate, and effervescent. A calmness washes over me when I drink tea, gazing out the window at the clouds. I feel calmly alive, serene, and at peace—unlike with coffee or energy drinks, which instantly set my mind racing, urging me to find the next task to do.

With tea, my being slows down. I notice and appreciate the little things in my apartment—the way the clouds form art in the sky, the sight of a fighter jet soaring by, or a large passenger plane gliding in the distance. Tea gifts me the experience of slow living, a life outside of forceful activity.

 

There are so many things we do naturally, without realizing they are part of who we are—talents, skills, and innate abilities that we could turn into a hobby, a passion project, a business, or simply a practice that reconnects us to our heart, our being, our spirit.

For me, another thing is washing dishes.

 

It’s the only chore I have a natural inclination for. Give me all the dishes in the house, but don’t ask me to sweep or mop.

I realized a few years ago that washing dishes appeals to me in a way I can’t quite explain. It’s one of the rare moments when my spirit speaks to me. I’m not distracted by anything else—just standing in one spot, with water flowing over my hands as they move in circular motions. It feels almost trance-like. 

Thoughts I’ve been pondering for months suddenly become clear. 

Situations that once confused me start to make sense.

One of the most profound moments of clarity I’ve had was during a season of immense lack and near poverty. 

 

While washing dishes at a friend’s house, a thought suddenly dropped into my spirit, revealing exactly what I needed to do to change my circumstances of lack.

 

Last December, after nearly two months of back-to-back activities, my body was crying out for stillness. I had been trying to center myself, but my mind was racing with one thing after another, and I couldn’t quiet it. Then, one evening, as I was washing dishes, the thought surfaced:

“You haven’t read in two months. Reading brings your mind stillness. Read tonight to quiet your heart.”

So, I picked up my iPad and started reading afterward. Not long after, I felt different parts of my body responding as if they needed to release the stress and strain I had unknowingly put them through. I slowed my reading—one word at a time—until my entire body surrendered, like a ship sinking into water. Finally, the stillness set in. I felt attended to, nurtured, and at peace.

 

In November, I started a project that is launching soon. Every time a friend comes to experience it, they shower me with compliments, but the most common one has been:

“This is so you.”

 

For some people, their grounding ritual is folding clothes. For others, it’s cooking. For some, it’s doing laundry.

Find yours. Let it serve you in all the ways it is meant to.

It’s the little, mundane, boring things that call you to you, to explore deeper into your mind, to enjoy the fullness of who you are on the inside of your being.

The little things are a gift.

 

One of my fears in life is “I might never get to know who I truly am or what I can become because I’m chasing so much external success,” so I truly stop and take my little moments in and see what it truly means to my soul and the joy it brings to my heart.

 

Find yours. Find your little things. Find your boring chore. Find your gift.

 

To your Growth,

Temitope Saliu