When I talk about tea as a “moving meditation”, it seems to come as a surprise to most. I suppose this is due to a lack of awareness.
In America, we’re well accustomed to the idea of monks sitting in meditation and breathing, or perhaps chanting. What we’re not accustomed to is the idea that other activities, indeed almost any activity, can be an object of focus for the purpose of meditation.
Another challenge to the idea of tea meditation is that of subtlety and intensity. Beginner meditators need something obvious to hold onto while they are learning the basic skills of returning to the point of focus when their mind wanders. The stimulating sensation of breath entering and leaving the body is strong enough for the initiate to understand. While the breath is obvious, tea is nothing if not subtle.
Before we take a single sip of tea, we’re served with a cornucopia of subtle sensation: choosing and measuring out the tea, enjoying the appearance of the dry leaves, listening to the sound of the kettle as it heats, warming our teaware, enjoying the aroma that appears as we brew, savoring the color of the liquor, and finally, raising the glass to our lips and drinking.
It’s easy to find the mind wandering at any point during that process; it’s rewarding to bring it back to savor the drama unfolding before us.
Thought of in this way, we can meditate endlessly on tea. A single gongfu tea session can easily last up to an hour or more, depending on the type of tea and the speed of brewing. In this light, tea becomes a rather challenging form of meditation.
Fortunately, it’s an enjoyable one.