There is always one more thing. A message to answer. A shirt to fold. Something small that somehow cannot wait. We tell ourselves we will sit down afterwards, as though the day will eventually run out of things to ask of us.
Sometimes, even when we stop, we are still rehearsing what comes next. Our bodies reach the chair before the rest of us does.
But a pause does not have to solve anything. We can enjoy a warm drink without turning it into a reward. We can leave a few minutes unfilled without finding a better use for them.
The unfinished things will probably still be there when we get up. For a little while, they can wait.
The tea is warm now. So is the moment.