No pleasure is simpler

It is fairly common knowledge that I drink tea as though it is necessary for my existence. Which, in fact, it very well may be. I find that drinking a cup of tea makes me stop and reflect. Sometimes those reflections are deep and end with new discoveries about what I believe. Most times, I simply reflect on the events of my day.

No matter what though, drinking tea is most certainly a religious experience for me. I love the litany of preparing my teapot, measuring out my tea, letting it sit and steep, and the first pour into whichever of my teacups from which I choose to drink. The whole process reminds me of the liturgy I deeply love in the Christian tradition. And as every cup of tea is different, so are my encounters with the Holy.

Earlier tonight, I had the opportunity to serve tea to a friend of mine who came over to my apartment, and as we sat and talked about life and Koine Greek, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that as we shared about our lives, we also shared a pot of tea. Over tea, I have had many wonderful and even life-changing conversations. It is more than a beverage.

James Norwood Platt, a tea enthusiast and expert on tea lore once wrote, “Respectfully preparing tea and partaking of it mindfully creates heart-to-heart conviviality, a way to go beyond this world and enter a realm apart. No pleasure is simpler, no luxury cheaper, no consciousness-altering agent more benign.”

This quote always hangs in the back of my consciousness as I drink tea. It speaks of tea as an agent of other-worldliness, a catalyst of peace and equality. Throughout history, tea has been a traditional equalizer. In the classic 18th century Book of Tea, Kakuzo Okakura noted that the tearoom is “preeminently the house of peace.” Even samurai were required by tradition to leave their swords hidden outside the sanctuary of the tearoom.

So as I sit and drink a pot of luscious Gyokuro Imperial green tea tonight, I let my thoughts wander. I reflect over my day. I think of how I encountered the Holy in my interactions with nature and with other people. And I muse over how the simple action of drinking a cup of tea connects me to innumerous people across time, to a tradition nearly five millennia old. It is comforting, and each sip makes me feel more in-tune with the depths of who I am.