Reading the Tea Leaves

As my mother drops two pinches of tea into our cups and pours in hot water, she tells my two sisters and me, “Now, stir the tea and as you’re stirring, think about a question you would like to ask the tea leaves.”

I am six, my older sister is seven, and my younger sister is five. This attention from our mother feels delicious because usually she’s doing laundry, washing dishes, caring for baby brother Hal (who is two), or chasing after Walter, who is four.

I dutifully close my eyes, stir my tea, and ask, When will Mommy join Suzie and Betsy (my dolls) and me for a tea party?
This deep yearning for my mother’s undivided attention loosens a tear that silently rolls down my cheek. I feel invisible in this household. My mother is always busy, and my dad is never around.

We stir our cups, swirl the contents, and let it sit. The dark tea tinges the water and settles at the bottom.

Then comes the moment we’ve been waiting for.

Mother says, “Look in your cup, while thinking of your question, and notice what stands out. It’s like looking at clouds and seeing dogs or bunnies in the sky. The shape you notice will stir something in your imagination.”

I peer into my cup and notice a blob in the middle, with dots dancing around it.

“What do you see?” my mother asks, peering into my cup.

“Look,” I say, pointing to the blob. “I think it’s the sun.”

Mother asks, “When you see the sun, what do you feel in your heart?”

Almost all my drawings feature a big yellow sun with radiating lines because the sun makes me feel warm and happy.

Looking straight at me with her deep brown eyes, she nods and says, “I think the sun might be showing you your inner light—a place in your heart that sends you love and reminds you that you are never alone.”

As she speaks, it feels like she’s putting words to my feelings. I feel their strength and comfort. My mother has already taught me that there is no spot where God is not.

She moves on to look into my sisters’ cups.

I think I may be imagining this story of my mother and the tea leaves—because she left this earth seven years ago today—but she still lives in my heart and spirit. She breaks into my consciousness in dreams and when I write.

Suddenly, I feel an impulse to find answers about the current situation on the planet by reading the tea leaves. My mother always validated my divination insights, saying it was passed down through generations from my maternal great-great-grandmother, Mary Jane Bell Thompson, who came to the U.S. from Ireland in 1825 and was well known for her “second sight.”

As I select my cup and heat the water, I call in my mother, my great-great-grandmother, and my spiritual guides. I think about my question:

I am here on Planet Earth, and it seems to be a time of so much sorrow, and fear. Especially in the U.S., it feels like we are falling backward in consciousness, as the most vulnerable among us are stripped of food and medical care to pay for tax cuts for the wealthy. The Big Ugly Bill going through Congress contains mind-boggling poison pills—like penalizing wind and solar—while adding trillions to the national debt. A present to the future of our children and grandchildren.

What is the most useful focus and action I can take to make a difference?

I place two pinches of black tea leaves in the bottom of my cup and pour in hot water. Then I remember a silver spoon in my sock drawer that my mother gave me and was passed down from an ancestor. I feel an impulse to retrieve it and use it to stir my tea.

As I lift the spoon, my grandmothers join me in the room. Stirring and swirling I think about my question.

At last, I look into my cup.

The first thing I notice is how the cup is divided into areas of light and dark. I'm outside on my deck, so the sunlight reflecting in the cup creates this effect. I wonder if I should bring the cup inside to take a picture, but a thought drops into my mind: Everything is important, just as it is.

It’s a dazzling, beautiful day. However, a putrid smell from a dead animal permeates the air. A stench that invades my mind. No escaping. No hiding. Does this mean something too?

I peer into the cup again. I hear my mother’s voice in my mind: Use your intuition. Soften your gaze.

I thought a few images might stand out, but instead I see an entire pattern. In the shadow part is the largest mass. It feels like a powerful coalition. There are other cohesive blobs in the shadows—perhaps the Supreme Court? Congress?

Trailing off the largest blob are elements in the light. They seem to be either joining the shadow blob or pulling away from it. It feels like a state of transition with an unknown outcome.

The area of light in the cup is much larger than the shadow. But there is little cohesion—just individuals and small groups working in isolation. The potential for change is great, but the power is weak.

I step back, take a nap, stroll with my dog, and meditate on the meaning.

Maybe what we all want is a world that is safe, healthy, and thriving for all. We just have different beliefs and strategies about how to get there. I send compassion to myself and to everyone else—that we may find our way to this shared vision.

I return to my question: Where should I focus? What is within my influence and control?

What’s clear to me is that we need to amplify power through Collective Action. What movements already exist that I can join? Protests like No Kings were successful because we joined forces and showed each other that together, we can be strong. There are a lot of us!

I can’t address everything, especially not all the horrors buried in the Big Ugly Bill. But I trust that together we can. If each of us did our part—joined larger movements and took action—it would make a difference.

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Here is what’s coming to me:

Be Kind

Yesterday, the wind was strong, and I struggled to dock my small boat. My Canadian neighbor saw this from his window, ran over and grabbed my boat as I edged closer to the dock. I felt so grateful by this act of kindness.

I commit to notice and amplify acts of kindness and compassion. To look for every opportunity to demonstrate kindness, especially to those more vulnerable. To radiate love and light into the world.

Be Bold

When I read the instructions for my new Sunfish sailboat, I recognized them as instructions for life.

First, face all your fears, one by one:

· Take the boat out on a day with no wind and learn patience, how to detect wind movement on the water and how to catch it in the sail;

· Capsize the boat and learn how to turn it over while treading water;

· Go out on a gusty day and learn how to trim the sails and stay upright.”

We feel afraid to take actions that may result in something bad. Tom Tillis showed us what courage looks like. He faced the very real fear of being primaried and said, "Republicans are about to make a mistake on healthcare and betray a promise on Medicaid.” Then he voted against the bill and announced he wouldn’t run again—opening a spot Democrats might take.

We’ve seen ICE, masked and unmarked, “kidnapping” people off the streets and even outside the courts. Everyone wants dangerous criminals deported, but do we want to remove hardworking immigrants with families who have been here for decades, law-abiding, contributing to the economy and social security?

Silence is complicity.

As a Quaker, I found a list of potential actions for my two main focus areas (environment and immigration) on the American Friends Service Committee website.

6 ways to support immigrants right now | American Friends Service Committee

5 ways you can support food & climate justice | American Friends Service Committee

Being bold means acting while feeling fear. Even writing this post feels a little risky. What if it affects my relationship with beloved family members who see things differently. What if there is unexpected backlash?

Silence feels more dangerous.

Be Smart and Strategic with Money

At Costco, I thank the cashier for the company’s DEI policy.

I try to avoid Amazon (so hard!) because of its tax avoidance, poor working conditions, monopolistic behavior, and union busting. I avoid Exxon, Hobby Lobby, and My Pillow. Boycotts can work—like Cesar Chavez’s grape boycott—if enough people take part.

Boycotts List | Ethical Consumer offers a great list of boycott targets and rationale- including boycotting Amazon, Air BNB, and Booking.com.

I get constant donation requests from the Democrats. I will support key races in the mid-terms, but for now I focus donations on fighting illegal and unconstitutional acts through the courts.

• ACLU – civil rights, litigation, and rapid response

• Earthjustice – environmental legal powerhouse

• Oceana – ocean conservation through science and law

Be Awake. Be Informed

It’s tempting to tune out the news. Sometimes we must.

But where can I find unbiased news that I can trust? It has always been quite obvious that Fox News and Newsmax are blatant propaganda machines. But because of bully tactics on the free press I am distressed by the dilution of unbiased information on the Washington Post, New York Times, CNN and PBS.

I’ve turned increasingly to the BBC, Letters from an American on Substack, The Bulwark, and The Atlantic. Yesterday, I finally canceled my Washington Post subscription—my hometown paper for decades—because I no longer trust it after constraints were put on the editorial content. I have loved what Bezos has done for the Post, revitalizing it and so sad to see this turn of direction.

When we see people saying or posting misinformation, I think it is important to call it out and to be sure what we post is really true. Recently I was sorry to learn that I posted a falsehood- a bogus quote from the Pope defending “being woke.” I was so glad someone pointed this out to me.

I just responded to someone on Facebook posting something not true. And though correcting misinformation on Facebook may not change minds, silence feels wrong.

I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Let’s start a conversation!

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Will It Make a Difference?

Honestly, these actions feel small. But doing something—anything—feels liberating. And one small step always seems to lead to another.

I peer back into the cup.
The light is stronger than the shadow.
We just need to find each other—and show up.