Tea: A ritual into the within
"The container: a vessel, hand sculpted to hold the space of transmutation. The substance: Camillia sinensis. Energy: The Flame which excites the water to boil, poured over tea to pull from it it's essence from which the journey into within begins."
When we sit to sip the leaves of these ancient evergreens, we enter a space without time, surrendering the concept of a map as a lay-out of place & destination. From the very first sip we find ourselves amongst the great mystery. With no direction, distance or expectation we can be nowhere other than the present moment. Whether sitting alone enjoying a cup of earl gray with the sun rising, the scent of bergamont fills the room while a touch of honey softens the aroma. Or the steeping of black aged Pu erh at mid-day in the shade, draws your pallete down into the very roots of you. Subtly lifting the heart, drawing pen to paper as you become a witness to the muse in you.
"Tea" is a practice for some to take flight, to find focus and to stir a sleepy mind. For others it is a ritual held in tiny cups, with each motion significant. The steam rising like fog atop water, clearing to reveal the silent poetry awaiting in each cup.
Tea as a service has allowed me to unfurl much like the bound and patient tea leaves themselves. As an introvert observer, I have traveled all over the world & remained silent through many a journey until i found a way to invite others in. The drinking of tea is shared among so many cultures that language becomes insignificant. From the Mexican coast of the Pacific where I learned about true fear in the face of unforgiving waves & currents, to the canyons of Colorado which echo tales of gold & solitude, I found myself magnetizing others with tiny cups even on the saddest of streets in Granada, where I poured tea for frenchmen while we serenaded the Alhambra with the oldest of love songs.