The first time I went to my friend Cynthia’s place was after a string quartet concert at a church last April.

It snowed. Being April in Chicago, this was not surprising.

When the concert ended, it was too early to go out for dinner and the weather made us both crave something warm. After driving her home, Cynthia, asked me inside for a cup of tea.

Options were offered (she had quite a collection in her pantry), and I witnessed her setting out porcelain cups and saucers along with fancy European biscuits on her small glass-topped table.

Not quite a tea ceremony, she seemed  to perform these hospitality tasks ceremoniously. I chose to join her in a passion fruit infusion, something I don’t keep in my cupboard and, apparently, one of her favorites.

She put two bags in each cup before carefully filling the cups with steaming water from an old-fashioned kettle.

How odd, I thought, to use two bags in such small cups. In barely a few seconds, I watched the hot water turn a deep shade of purple. Still too hot to drink, I took in the perfume-like aroma and started filling the quiet with banter about why I love string quartets.

I was afraid I would clumsily slosh or spill a thimbleful of purple tea over my cup’s brim and stain something irreparably.

Surprising to think that it’s been several months since this occasion, but during a visit last week, when I was asked what my beverage of choice was and chose tea, mint tea, again I observed Cynthia placing two bags in my cup.

The hot water turned brown quickly, not quite the color of coffee but an earthy hue, for sure. She brought out a small bowl of chocolate covered ginger to nibble on while I waited for the tea to cool a bit.

“Why do you use two bags in a cup of tea?” I asked her.

I didn’t want to sound flippant or ungracious. If I have hot tea at Starbucks, they’ll put two bags in a nested set of paper cups, but their cups are bladder-blaster sized, so it never has stirred a second thought.

At home, I just use one tea bag in a mug of hot water. Sometimes, if the water is very hot, I will take the bag out in a minute or two, after I notice the water has taken on a good color, and I’ll place it in a small dish. I do this with the thought of maybe getting a second cup out of one bag.

Without hesitation, Cynthia remarked, “It makes the tea more flavorful.”

I had to think about this. I suppose there are some types of tea that you wouldn’t want to steep too long as they might grow bitter or too acidic, but why should I try to get multiple cups of tea from one bag?

I try to be a conscious consumer and not waste, but I recognize I leave lights on when I go out (I tell myself this is for my dog), and I’ll buy favorite premium brands of items when there are lower cost options.

This idea that I can treat-myself well, that I can add flavor to my life without breaking the bank, grew on me. I deserve to be treated well. I certainly can do more to demonstrate to myself that I take this to heart; that I believe I deserve to be treated well.

• I can be the first person to reach out to a friend with whom I don’t have regular contact for lunch or dinner. The thought of renewing a connection adds flavor to my life.
• I can start conversations with strangers by sharing in-the-moment observations. Rather than asking a question or staying silent, this is an invitation for an exchange where I express myself and surrender control. Staying in the present and inviting unexpected sharing adds flavor to my life.
• I can plan to spend time each day outside. Whether bundled up or dressed down, even if my surroundings are dull or overcast, I can focus on feeling air on my skin and notice how changes outside spark changes on the inside. Being present to the sensations of nature adds flavor to my life.
• I can spend some time each day doing something I love. It’s easy to make priorities out of obligations, but it is also important to give time to things that provide joy or comfort. Relishing a long, hot shower or playing with my dog adds flavor to my life.

Giving time to what’s important to me and then being fully present to how I feel when engaged in that activity provokes gratitude in me.

Using two bags to make a cup of tea is no small thing.