Tea Service

Today I want to share a nice little ritual I made up to end my work day. Thus far it's been successful in bringing me back to center. It's a tea service.

I don't know why I didn't do this sooner. Maybe I just never envisioned myself getting a teapot. Or something... Sometimes I get stuck in my habits and need a little prompting to change things up.

For Christmas, my father got me a tea kettle. After I cleaned it, I sat it on my stove and stared at it with a little puzzled frown. "What am I going to do with a tea kettle? I have a Keurig for the hot water if I want tea." So, I left it on the stove like that as a decoration for a day or two. I figured the idea of its proper use would eventually just drop into my head at some point. No need to fuss about it now.

Then, one afternoon, I remembered...

Whenever I go out to an Asian restaurant of any type, I order jasmine tea (or green if they don't have that). It always comes out in a little tea pot with the little cups that have no handles. And I always very ceremoniously drink my tea. I pour it slowly, drink it slowly, and never act in haste around the tea.

That comes from several lifetimes in China where tea rituals are a Big Deal. But I'd forgotten about those lifetimes, and yet immersed in the smell of rice, wantons, and jasmine tea, I automagically start remembering tea rituals.

And then I remembered more...

Whenever I go up to the mountains, I like to sit on the porch and watch the sunset/rise. I like to sit out there and just watch everything go to sleep or wake up. I might have an alcoholic drink if it's evening. Or tea/coffee if it's morning. I say nothing. Not a word. And it's not like I meditate. It's not like I sit there and focus on breathing. I just sit there and watch things happen. And I drink my drink. Slowly. One tiny sip at a time.

So, it hit me, "My father got me the tea kettle, because I need to do a tea service."

There it was. Suddenly that's what I would do. As often as reasonably possible, at the end of my day, I should put the kettle on. Make a pot of tea. Sit in my blue accent chair facing the big windows. Watch the world outside. Say nothing. And drink the whole pot of tea. That whole process would last about an hour.

That's it. That's the objective. Sit. Shut up. Drink tea.

Well, I can do that.

I ordered a small teapot and tea cups with no handles (that somehow matches all my cookware in color perfectly?), and a pound of Early Grey tea, because that's my favorite. Then I made a pot of tea, sat in my chair, and drank it without saying anything. It took an hour to do. Actually exactly an hour.

Did I control my thoughts? No. I let them do whatever they wanted to do. I talked to Mari, but told her I wasn't vocalizing anything out loud. Visual telepathy is better with my mouth shut, I've realized. I watched people go home from work outside. I watched my little wood wick candle crackle. I let my thoughts go play in the empty lot across the street. And I drank the tea.

Result? I feel calmed from my day. I don't feel like I'm in "work mode" anymore. Which is good. I also feel like my energy has properly circulated itself, and any density I was holding from the days previous has been gently released. Simultaneously, all the light that has been replacing the density has been gently integrated.

That is much better. Tea service it is!

There is a part of me that is for some reason rolling its eyes at me right now and telling me I'm a dork.

How old are you?
12.
Yeah, well you try tea service you'll like it.
Tea is for moms.
It's not the tea, self, it's the quiet. You'd see ghost cat more if you did it. And mom and dad fighting wouldn't bother you so much.
I don't want to talk about that.
Well you should. To somebody.
Nobody listens.
Somebody will if you want them to.
I don't want them to.
Then do tea service.
Dork.
Nerd.
*eye roll*
Love you!

Well, I suppose this may also become a side effect. Not that I don't talk to my selves all the time. I do. Just that came through loud and clear, and why not share it. All of the me's are right here, and the me's that aren't me's but my family.

If you were inside my head, you'd hear nothing but chit chat all day every day. It's rarely actually quiet. Even this tea service ritual won't quiet it. It just brings it all into the same alignment. Centers it for an hour so the rest of me can energetically breathe.

Do I want it quiet? No, actually. I'd rather have this than not. I've lived where the inside of my mind was just me and the cobwebs. No thanks. It's very lonely like that. Feels unnatural.

Anyway, I thank you for your time. From the dork, adiamas.

​--Kyriel