Sometimes I step back, look at my work here at Tea Party Girl and cock my head.

Why is a woman with my intense personality writing about the tea party?

Honestly? Part of it’s because I’m afraid, I’m very afraid.

This post is my entry in Scribbit’s October Write-Away Contest. Because it’s October, the topic chosen was “Things that Scare Me”.

moon.jpg

Now, this is the truth. One of the reasons I want to teach others about afternoon tea is because I fear that the mediocre, half-hazard, and low quality will represent our culture and we will let it.

That we are more passionate about finding low prices than supporting the local farmer.

That children won’t know Mozart’s genius or how to make a meal from scratch.

That boys will grow up to be scared young men who only feel comfortable in virtual reality because Mom couldn’t send them into the men’s room in public or let them ride their bikes in the neighborhood.

That my girl and her friends might grow up and want to dress like the Bratz dolls instead of the twirly skirts and ballet shoes they beg for now.

I don’t want our culture to forget simple beauty.

I’ve said it before. “I cannot paint masterpieces. I gave up piano lessons as a young girl to chase boys instead. I live where telephone wires, cement, and more cars than drivers are a reality. A tailor no longer makes my clothes to wear at balls and the middle-class (my friends) shop at Wal-mart. I didn’t have the knowledge or money to purchase a vineyard. So I throw tea parties. Often.

I’ve watched the transformation over and over again. Weary stay-at-home moms who think life has to be spent shopping at Costco, navigating the media war (How much is too much? What kind is the bad kind?) and stepping on Happy Meal toys come to tea and leave with a new hunger for beauty.

Our souls must have it. And we must fight for it. Does anyone remember the definition of entropy from high school science? Left to their own devices, systems and societies deteriorate unless other forces work against this inevitability. In other words, without the fight or force working against it, we just might choose dinners of cheese puffs and soft drinks in our synthetic (cheap) imported clothes watching re-runs and never learning our neighbors’ names.

Do you fear our culture might forget what is beautiful? How are you fighting for beauty in your life and the souls you help nurture? What do you find beautiful? Do you give yourself permission to need it everyday? Why or why not? I’d love to read your responses in the comments below.