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The Quiet Pour No. 06: Notes from a physician, small business owner, and mom of two.
It’s not easy juggling three jobs along with the other responsibilities of life. Some weeks I feel like I’m constantly juggling, hoping none of the balls drop, moving from one responsibility to the next without a pause to breathe.
When I’m working at the hospital, I work 15 days in a row. My days are hectic starting around 5am and I usually crash by 9pm. These stretches are very intense. I’m ensuring patients are taken care of, students and residents are being taught, making meals for the family, picking up and dropping off the kids, taking them to their activities, and making sure the tea business is running smoothly. Truthfully, it does get overwhelming. I will be transparent and say: it’s taken therapy to help find my inner peace and much needed balance.
During these 15 days, I’ve also learned something else. I’ve learned to say no. No to hanging out with friends. No to tea related events. No to anything that stretches me beyond what I can realistically hold. That ability to say no has not come easily, but it has become essential. Protecting my energy during those weeks allows me to show up fully where I’m needed most.
Over time, I’ve learned that staying grounded is not about doing less. It’s about holding onto a few rituals and reminders that bring me back to myself.
These are the five things that help me —
Tea is not just my business. It’s my anchor.
Mornings are quick. I’m steeping loose leaf tea in a gaiwan while reviewing patient charts on my laptop, or making a big cup of chai that gives me caffeine and comfort. But what truly feels like mine is that one quiet hour between finishing work and picking up the kids. That hour is usually spent trying a new tea from one of our farmers, or enjoying a tea session with Abe or a dear friend.
There is something deeply grounding about the ritual of tea itself.
The house is quiet. The kettle begins to boil. I pour the water over the leaves and watch them unfurl. I strain the tea into a cup. I inhale the aroma. I take a sip and tell myself, it’s okay.
This sensory experience brings me back into my body. It slows my breathing. It creates a small pocket of peace in the middle of chaos. It reminds me that even on the busiest days, I can pause.
Talking with my girls grounds me in a way nothing else can. I enjoy seeing how they are growing, with a beautiful strength and kindness. I love knowing what they are thinking about. They are intelligent, well rounded, doing well in school and talented in their own ways. But what strikes me most is that they don’t feel the need to compete.
One of the biggest lessons they have taught me is that it’s okay for kids to be kids. And maybe it’s okay for adults and businesses to do the same.
The medicine world and tea world can feel competitive. There are accolades, rankings, growth targets. But watching my children has reminded me that not everything needs to compete to be worthy. It’s enough to grow steadily. It’s enough to be authentic. It’s enough to simply be.
Working out, taking a walk, or even meditating for a few minutes helps reset my nervous system. Even a short pause to breathe deeply and look inward makes a difference. There’s something powerful about reconnecting with the spiritual core inside when the mind and body feel scattered.
I don’t always have an hour. Sometimes it’s five minutes between tasks. But those few minutes matter. They remind me that I’m more than my to do list.
We have a small urban garden, and I absolutely love stepping outside to see what’s new. The birds are chirping. The squirrel trying to steal a tomato in the summer. A new leaf unfurling. Something ready to harvest. There’s something humbling about tending a garden. Growth cannot be rushed. Seasons cannot be forced. You plant, you water, you wait. Sometimes I walk through the garden and begin planning dinner in my head.
Sometimes I just stand there and listen.
It reminds me that life unfolds in cycles, not in constant productivity.
Oddly enough, being a physician itself grounds me.
It’s something I know how to do well. After years of training, there’s a rhythm to it. There’s structure. There are defined roles and expectations. There are systems and rules. Yes, things don’t always go as planned. Patients surprise you. Diagnoses evolve. But the foundation is solid. The years of training make it easier to adapt. In many ways, medicine feels more methodical than entrepreneurship. The tea business has highs and lows. There are uncertainties and constant decisions. Medicine feels steady.
Sometimes I wonder if physician training has increased my capacity to handle everything else life throws at me. The long hours. The pressure. The unpredictability. It taught me endurance. It taught me how to stay calm in the middle of complexity. And maybe that steadiness is something I now carry into every other part of my life.
Balancing medicine, entrepreneurship, and motherhood is not effortless. Some days I do feel stretched thin. But these anchors bring me back, again and again.
They remind me that I don’t have to do everything at once. I don’t have to attend every event. I don’t have to say yes to every opportunity.
Sometimes grounding is not about adding more. It’s about protecting what matters.
And in the quiet moments, with a cup of tea in my hands and the house finally still, I remember that this full, layered life is something I chose. Even when it feels overwhelming, it’s deeply mine. 🫖
I asked Chris Gampat, an Herbs & Kettles customer who has now become a friend, what keeps him grounded. He is the editor in chief, founder, and publisher of The Phoblographer.
Chris shared with us: “I move at a frantic pace in life, and if I did not have a lot grounding me, it would not be easy. It has taken therapy, speaking kindly to myself, and actively changing my thought patterns to realize this, but I need a lot of things to ground me. I am the legally blind editor in chief of one of the largest online photography magazines, and I am always dreaming, always thinking about what is next.”
“With all of that said, what grounds me daily often involves the sensory experience of drinking chai. The various ones from Herbs and Kettles are wonderful. For me, it’s about the taste, the temperature, the feel of it on my tongue, the aroma rising up my nose toward the pleasure center of my brain. Even the sound of the sip and the color of the chai when I add jaggery and evaporated milk,” Chris beautifully said.
Vipassana meditation, he mentioned, has also helped him tremendously, and he earned his certification in the practice.
“I am such an extrovert.” Chris added. “I especially love sharing these moments with others.”
