"The first cup moistens my lips and throat;
The second cup breaks my loneliness;
The third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some thousand volumes of odd ideographs;
The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration-all the wrongs of life pass out through my pores;
At the fifth cup I am purified;
The sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals.
The seventh cup-ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of the cool wind that raises in my sleeves.
Where is Elysium? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither."
Lu Tung (Chinese poet during T'ang Dynasty) "Tea-Drinking"
"I long for Americans to be converted to simpler lives, simpler structures, and preservation of open space. But how do deep, radical conversions come about? Not because some righteous neighbor scolds about herbicide, but because one feels the relentless gnawing of one's own soul. Because one is spoken to by a little house or a great blue heron, or by the offhand remark of a happy person at peace with herself.
Some deep bell in the self reverberates to a bell struck outside. Anyone who comes to any level of ecological understanding has done so after a long internal process."
The Barn at the End of the World:
The Apprenticeship of a Quaker, Buddhist Shepherd
By Mary Rose O'Reilley
"In religion the Future is behind us. In art the Present is the eternal. The tea-master held that real appreciation of art is only possible to those who make of it a living influence. Thus they sought to regulate their daily life by the high standard of refinement which was obtained in the tea-room. In all circumstances serenity of mind should be maintained, and conversation should be so conducted as never to mar the harmony of the surroundings. The cut and color of the dress, the poise of the body, and the manner of walking could all be made expressions of artistic personality. These were matters not to be lightly ignored, for until one has made himself beautiful he has no right to approach beauty. Thus the tea master strove to be something more than the artist -- art itself. It was the Zen of aestheticism. Perfection is everywhere if we only choose to recognise it."
Kakuzo Okakura, The Book Of Tea
"Let us imagine a family table. Some of the people sitting at the table are blood relatives and some are family by choice. After all, what do we mean by family? We mean people who are deeply and lovingly connected to one another (for better and worse), people we can count on. In a pinch I can call my sister. I can also call on one of my close old pals who is related to me by bonds, and bonds can be every bit as strong as blood, just as blood can be much less consequential than a bond."
Laurie Colwin, More Home Cooking
"I believe we were all put here to discover our own truths and honor them to the fullest. I don't believe that man went through eons of evolutions to become lemmings or sheep. Each and every one of us has a unique spirit that is begging to be nurtured. Maybe nurturing that spirit would truly evolve our species."
Dan Price
Radical Simplicity: Creating an Authentic Life
"There is time for everything."
Thomas Edison
MY TEA TASTING TEAM
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Rachel Kolb
Wilmington, NC
Alissa Barton
Texas
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Bothell, Washington
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Monte Vista, CO
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TEA MEMORIES...
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and memories of sharing tea
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adventure or two along the way!
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"What is the most wonderful thing for people like myself who follow the Way of Tea? My answer: the oneness of host and guest created through 'meeting heart to heart' and sharing a bowl of tea...you feel one with nature, and there is peace... "
Soshitsu Sen XV, Tea Life, Tea Mind
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It is an utter delight!
"I am sorry to tell you that I am getting very extravagant & spending all my Money; & what is worse for you, I have been spending yours too."
~ On Tea & Shopping
Letter from Jane Austen to her sister Cassandra,
18 April 1811
from Tea With Jane Austen by Kim Wilson
MAITRI'S LINKS
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"Another fine thing for the soul,
after a meal in the evening, is
one of those herbals teas which
French people used to call
tisanes.
They are simply hot water poured
over a few dried leaves of mint
or verbena or lime flowers or
camomile. They can be drunk
with or without sugar, and a
twist of lemon may be added.
They smooth out wrinkles in
your mind miraculously, and
make you sleep, with sweet
dreams too."
M.F.K Fisher
"How To Comfort Sorrow"
"Like Japanese art and poetry, the Tea Ceremony is delicate and lovely. While it appears fragile and simple, it is strongly symbolic and profound. In Japan devotees spend a lifetime in the study of Teaism with its manifold implications in religion and philosophy, in art and architecture, flowers, nature and personal deportment. Those proficient in the art and serving ceremonial tea are equal to whatever adventures and misadventures life may bring, as Teaism develops insight into Nature and Man."
The Japanese Tea Ceremony
Julia V. Nakamura, 1965
"Imagine you were given the assignment of making a rather bland, nearly ripe, just picked apricot as assertive and flavorful as it could possibly be. If you cut the apricot in pieces, set it out in the sun to blacken, bring it inside and spray it with a fine mist of water, and repeat this procedure, then cut it up in smaller pieces, mash them, sliver them, and twist and roll them, and finally squish and pack them, you would produce some version of a dried apricot that has a lot more flavor than a fresh one. This, in the broadest of terms, is what turns a green tea leaf into a black tea.
"When freshly boiling water pours over these twisted, rolled-up leaves, all that stored up flavor is released. The swirling and writhing of the leaves mark the moment when this happens. This moment is called the agony of the leaves. The plantation owners and workers, packers, buyers, shippers, and tea people the world over wait for this crucial moment when tea comes back to life."
Helen Gustafson, The Agony Of The Leaves
The Cup Of Humanity From
THE BOOK OF TEA,
by Kakuzo Okakura
"Tea began as a medicine and grew into a beverage. In China, in the eighth century, It entered the realm of poetry as one of the polite amusements. The fifteenth century saw Japan ennoble it into a religion of aestheticism -- teaism. Teaism is a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence. It inculcates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity, the romanticism of social order. It is essentially the worship of the imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life."
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All contents copyright 2006
Maitri Libellule
... since January 1, 2006
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Saturday, December 09, 2006
LIVING A QUIET LIFE & THE IMPORTANCE OF TEATIME...
So aromatic it scents the whole room!: Rooibos Pear and Honey ... From SBS Teas...
"Delicious as a dessert treat or anytime of the day and night. Sumptuous sweet pear and smooth honey unite in a lovely tryst of smooth sweet devotion to your cup. Be prepared to stun your guests and taste buds with this decadent tea!"
"In the evening I go up in the desert where you can see the world all around -- far away. The hours I spend each evening watching the sun go down -- and just enjoying it -- and every day I go out and watch it again. I draw some and there is a little painting and so the days go by."
In a letter from Georgia O'Keefe to her friend Anita Politzer, 1929
The last few weeks have been something out of the ordinary for me, pleasurable and unsettling all at the same time. People come and go in your life and life goes on. What this has meant for me is a clearer vision of who I am and what my life really is. And so when I read the above quote by Georgia O'Keefe, one of my favorite painters, I sighed, and relaxed and realized that yes, we live our little lives and the days go by and they are filled with shining moments.
I believe Georgia would have understood my life, a life some feel peculiar at best. Coming close to living the life of an anchorite, my life is for the most part homebound, and made up of contemplation, nature, animals, the sacred, prayer. As a writer and a fiber artist, living in a small cottage of a place with parrots and finches and doves, 3 beautiful beta fish and my sweet dog Moe, I spend whole days in silence, days when there is no tv, no music, no phone, just the chattering of the birds.
I fill the feeders outside all around with seed for the wild birds and the occasional squirrel, stray cat and whomever else comes around gets fed as well. My outings are in my own garden, and at midnight to look at the full moon, or gaze at the stars. The few times I go out into the real world are for necessities or to babysit my precious grandbaby, but mostly, here, I live quietly alone among my hundreds of books, and fiber everywhere, and now a cottage full of plants brought in just in time before winter frost, and my tiny galley sized kitchen looks more like a potting shed than a kitchen these days as I clean up, repot and feed all of the plants just brought back indoors, as well as repot the African Violets, my loves, growing like topsy and blooming again.
Comes that special time of day when the light is slanting on the horizon and a little chime goes off in my head, "It's tea time." And so the kettle goes on and I begin to search through my many teas to see what tea best suits the day, the time, the mood. This has been a hard week and I needed something soothing. I find rooibos teas one of the most soothing teas and often have a cup of rooibos at bedtime. The other evening as I sifted through bags of teas in my tea cabinet, I came across one I had not tried yet, the Rooibos Pear and Honey, and simply opening the bag I let out a deep sigh and felt tension melting out of my body. Succulent sweet pear redolent of honey, so strong that the next morning, with a bit of tea left in my cup from the night before, the whole room smelled of honey and pears. This is one of the most flavorful teas I have ever had.
And so I sat here having brewed my tea, and watched the sky turn it's eventide colors, mesmerized, breathing in the silence deeply as the birds inside began to quiet down and the wildlings were gone for the night. Moe was asleep belly and paws up on the couch and I was surrounded by stacks of books and fiber projects all around me. I held the oversized vintage Stangl mug with a pale pink tulip and scalloped green leaves up to my nose and just breathed in the lovely, fragrant tea, and the first sip came almost as a shock it was so full of flavor, my tastebuds exploded delightedly and I sank deeply into my chair with a smile. Finally, settling in with tea, and the silence, and letting even my own thoughts fade away, I had a contemplative time with my tea, a tea meditation as I do most early evenings, and I let the cares and worries and pain and frustrations of the weeks pass from my body and I looked silently around my little room to all that is here.
Amidst too much of everything, books and fiber everywhere, and looms and knitting needles, and my precious spoolknitters in every shape and size and spindles with their fiber attached as I spin my yarns, and yarns in baskets nearby as I make a hat, jars full of colored pencils, paintbrushes, sketchbook on the arm of my oversized chair filled with too many pillows that are just right, and the old rattan chair with frazzled places where Henry, my grey parrot, likes to sit and unravel pieces for that brief moment before I catch him doing it, and tossled vintage quilts here and there, a bright fuschia Christmas Cactus blooming madly, and knowing that there are paperwhites to be potted for inside and bulbs to be planted outside, I felt a deep sense of fulfilment as I sipped this delectable tea. What more could a person want? And the tea made the moment perfect.
And so as with O'Keefe I make my daily rounds, I drink in the fragrance of flowers blooming and tea perfuming the air, and now, as I write this, Henry sits on my shoulder and Moe sits by my side, his velvet soft nose brushing against my knee to make certain that all is well before he goes to his favorite spot on the couch, and Henry and I will carry on here, as I nuzzle his grey feathers and kiss his beak, and reach, once more, for yet another sip of this wonderful tea as the dove coos to his mate and silence falls upon the room once again, and I feel peace return as the last curtain of night falls...
Maitri
Posted at 11:27 am by maitri
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