Things to look forward to…
evening tea
I look forward to my evening tea every day. I have a small cabinet of dried herbs put by to please my every whim. Usually I pull out the chamomile and lavender. I like the flavor and the smell, and these herbs also both help moderate digestion. But more than that, I need the calm that descends upon my body — this is how I turn off the day and prepare for the night — and both of these herbs are calming.
Maimonides, the 12th century Jewish philosopher and court physician to Saladin, claimed that a cup of warm clear liquid every day promoted good health and longevity (though he only lived to 69, mostly because of his peripatetic and hectic life). What was in the liquid wasn’t as important as the warmth it brought to the body. In fact, he preferred pure warmed water, and he convinced the Sultan to follow this habit. (Which is how we know of this preference.)
Maimonides advocated starting the day with warm water. I also start my day with warm water, but my day begins in the evening. My day begins in darkness, begins with rest, and then, when rested properly, I go out and do all the things I dreamed of doing. I also drink black or green tea in the morning, but it’s the evening cuppa that I anticipate.
I use this time as a calming ritual. I fill the kettle, warm the mug with hot tap-water, select an herb that appeals to me in the moment, and then, when the water is just boiling, I begin to brew. Steeping takes five minutes for most herbal teas. I have an old mechanical kitchen timer that I wind up and set to ticking. This sound by itself is relaxing because my body knows that there will be something good when the bell rings. Very Pavlovian.
When it is ready, sometimes I take my mug over to my comfy chair. I prop my tired feet up and just hold the warm mug in my hands for a bit, waiting for it to be cool enough to drink. Then I pick up whatever I am reading for fun, something that interests me but does not challenge me. I drink my tea and read. Most of the time, I make an effort to pay attention to the tea, but sometimes the story carries me away — and that’s fine too.
But sometimes I forgo the book and the chair. I sit on the meditation cushion and focus on breathing. I inhale the scented steam, taking smalls sips with the inhalations. This is how I meditate. I am not sure that I am doing it properly, but it works for me. I don’t bother with all the fuss over emptying out my head and worrying over wandering rumination. But I find that when I don’t make a concentrated effort and simply focus on doing something calming — like breathing, like drinking warm evening tea — the brain settles of its own accord. And quite suddenly all I am is this body, sitting here, breathing evenly, drinking this tea.
Of course, some days this doesn’t happen, and that’s fine too. I feel that the point of the ritual is to relax body and mind, so I don’t get worked up when the internal chatter continues. I do make some effort to avoid wool-gathering over the day that is ending. When those thoughts arise, I consciously brush them aside. But they don’t arise too often.
I think that’s the tea. Or maybe the whole ritual of evening tea. I have trained my body to tea time. And thoughts that make me tense or frightened are not part of tea time. This means they aren’t part of night time either.
This is the way I fall asleep in these times. If I were a famous physician, I would prescribe a cup of warm herbal tea to begin every day. And I would tell all my patients to begin the day in the evening twilight. It works. And it is the only thing I know that works reliably.
Wednesday Word
for 6 March 2024
tea
If you choose to ramble on about hot herbal beverages, you can respond in the comments below or go visit the All Poetry contest for March. Your response can be anything made from words. I love poetry, but anything can be poetic and you needn’t even be limited to poetics. An observation, a story, a thought. Might even be an image — however, I am not a visual person, so it has to work harder to convey meaning. In the spirit of word prompts, it’s best if you use the word; but I’m not even a stickler about that. Especially if you can convey the meaning without ever touching the word.
If you have nothing to say, that’s fine. But if you’ve read this far, then I’ve made you think about… tea.
(AI generated image by NightCafe)
pot of tea
were i a djinn of fiery mien
no oily lamps for me
no messages in bottles blue
i’d dwell in pots of tea
oolong for my monday blues
jasmine green for thought
lavender for sleeping well
deep inside my pot
and should you rub the glazing
i’ll grant you wishes three
as long as each wish can be found
within my pot of tea
for i’ll not want to wander far
o’er desert sand and stone
when all that pleases senses
is right here in my home
but if you’d care to join me
how pleasant that would be
an aromatic eden
inside our pot of tea
©Elizabeth Anker 2024
By My Solitary Hearth 
When I was very young I used to wonder why my mother chose to drink tea on a hot day. Over the years I have discovered how soothing and refreshing tea can be. I drink different types of tea at different times of the day – or according to my mood. Having risen at 3 am yesterday in order to reach the airport in time and then only getting home at 11am, the first thing I did was to brew a cup of tea. Holding that warm mug in my hands seemed to ‘ground’ me; steady me; and helped to draw me back into my home 🙂
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Free association with the word “tea” brings to mind the tea party. Not the delightful tea party of the Mad Hatter, nor the myth of the American Revolution but the infamous political tea party that laid the groundwork for the once and future president, The Donald. I don’t claim to be a seir, but the tea leaves are pretty clear, if genocide Joey runs, then Trump will be the next POTUS. In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that I’m voting for Cornell West, the only candidate fit to be president.
In the interest of getting my mind out of the gutter – and hopefully yours too, I’d like to reflect on Cha-No-Yu, the Japanese tea ceremony. Eliza’s rituals around tea are very reminiscent of the spirit of the Japanese tea party. I can think of no better way to describe it than the opening of Okakura Kakuzo’s The Book of Tea.
From Chapter 1 “The Cup of Humanity”:
“Tea began as a medicine and grew into a beverage. In China, in the Eighth Century, it entered into 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 the social order. It is essentially a worship of the Imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life.”
P.S. for a comprehensive, though less poetic, look at the Japanese tea party, I would refer the reader to A.L. Sadler’s Cha-No-Yu; the Japanese Tea Ceremony.
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