Tea & Ceremony
Last month I had the pleasure of participating in a ceremony based on the tea traditions of Taiwan. Seven of us gathered on an outdoor veranda with an expansive view in the early morning light to share tea in silence. I can still feel the cool, damp air on my skin, hear the water simmer as it approached the right temperature, and smell the earth in the brewing leaves. Together, we experienced tea as medicine and meditation.
Bringing the tea bowl to my lips was like engaging in a conversation with nature. With each sip I thought about how we were drinking the earth’s minerals absorbed through roots of ancient, old-growth trees from which the tea leaves were harvested on mountains continents away. I thought about the weather’s influence on the taste and the caring hands of the farmers tending to the trees.
Drinking tea in silent community gave me the opportunity to pause and connect the outer world I was experiencing with my inner one. I’m a daily coffee drinker, beginning my day with a cup and having another mid-morning. But it’s rare that I sit and sip while reflecting on nature and feeling the sensuality of the experience. The tea ceremony felt like a path inward to calm, stillness, mindfulness – a place where I could listen and be present.
The lessons of tea have remained with me. One of the tenants of my wellness philosophy is cultivating nourishing practices that align with seasonal rhythms. The day after I returned home, I went to a local farmer’s market and was drawn to a bunch of chamomile flowers. Each spring I usually buy at least one bunch to grace my kitchen counter. But when I got home this time, I looked up the chamomile plant online and learned that I could make tea with the flowers.
That evening as a mindfulness practice, I began to gently remove the flowers from the stems and place them in a tea infuser basket as the water began to simmer in the kettle. I walked out to the garden and picked a few tender leaves from a mint plant. Then I peeled a fresh piece of ginger, cut it in three and placed that in the strainer as well. When the water reached 190 degrees, I turned it off and placed the basket in teapot to let the flowers steep.
After five minutes I poured the brew into a warmed tea bowl. The taste reminded me of the bagged chamomile tea I have in my cupboard, but this elixir had a light and sweet taste along with a grassy aroma that was pleasant and calming. For a few moments, I thought only of the taste in the quiet, setting the perfect conditions for a deep sleep.
Journal Reflections: Try this: Quietly brew a cup of tea, either with fresh ingredients, loose living tea or an organic tea bag. Pause, sip, reflect. Can you remain present throughout? Once you enjoy your tea, write about your experience in your journal.