Here’s the thing about our weaknesses and imperfections, the cracks in our cups – they’re the wounds on our lives. We can dwell on them, remain broken, and allow the wound to become infected in our despair. We can let the wound fester and slowly eat away at us as we refuse to let go.

But that’s a choice.

This is my Karate. It’s good enough for me.

The fire rises. It burns hot. The water does too.

Today, the cup is empty, and the teapot is boiling over.

Your tea is ready.