This might be described as "a blog post about mindfulness". That description would lead me to expect something trite and bad, but fortunately I enjoyed reading it. It reminds me of the following snippet from Within A Budding Grove:

> And yet one did not find in Bergotte’s speech a certain luminosity which in his books, as in those of some other writers, often modified in the written sentence the appearance of its words. This was doubtless because the light issues from so profound a depth that its rays do not penetrate to our spoken words in the hours in which, thrown open to others by the act of conversation, we are to a certain extent closed to ourselves.

(Also, I'm getting some SSL error from the "Tea With Strangers" website.)