"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

31 July 2012

Pause.

Wyeth, Big Room, 1948


The Slowness Ritual

Modern life has a tendency of becoming rushed, of moving from one appointment to the next, one email to the next, until our days are a blur. I find tea to be perfect for helping me to slow down, to return to the natural rhythm of life.

So in the afternoon, when things become rushed, I pause. I put some loose, whole-leaf tea (a sencha or an oolong) into a small teapot as the water heats up. I take a moment to enjoy the sight of the consistency of the leaves, hand-picked by farmers from small farms in Japan or Taiwan, and breathe on the leaves to evoke their fragrance.

I pour just a teacupfull of water into the pot, and pay attention to my breath as the tea steeps for about 30 seconds (I like the tea lighter, not bitter). This breathwatching is a short meditation, like the rest of the ritual.

I pour the slightly steeped tea into a small cup, about half the size of my fist. I savor the color, texture, smell, and try to see what aromas I can detect (I’m not very good at this).

Then I sip. The first sip is a revelation, as the rushed world fades away and the delicate tea hits my tongue, washing it in its warmth and with flavors that began their journey in the earth, thousands of miles away in a country that has been doing this for a millenium or two.

The tea is not overpowering, but subtle. It is mostly water, with only a slight essence of the leaves infused into the liquid, so timid that I have to really pay attention to notice it at all.

The moment is entirely floating in this whisper of a broth, slowed by the hesitation of my attention as it stops its monkeying around and starts to enjoy the stillness.


Read more about other tea rituals at Zen Habits.

2 comments:

LaDona said...

Wow.
Forget the wine - I'm rushing to the kitchen to make tea - as I watch the subtly changing clouds from the back deck on this slow summer evening.
Beautiful writing...

Rob Firchau said...

You just made the point! Thanks for looking and enjoy the moon.