Tea
I love tea. I fear the last thing I wrote about tea may have been so exaggerated as to seem like sarcasm or perhaps even a cipher for other substances, but it was entirely sincere. I am a huge fan of tea, and whilst I most certainly consider myself a coffee snob, I like to believe that I am more accepting of tea in all its diverse glory.
That said, I’m still going to lecture you on how to make it properly.
This is well-trodden ground: I myself have read short essays by Douglas Adams, Dan Moren, Eric Blair and Christopher Hitchins on the topic. While each differs a little in his opinions, all are agreed on at least one thing: good tea takes time.
This factor is a great blessing for those of us who drink tea. Ritual is a thing rarely found in modern times, and I’ve grown to really appreciate the value of taking a break from routine to stop and think. The time it takes to properly brew a pot of tea is not long enough to be usefully employed in the pursuit of serious productivity, communication or even entertaining diversion. Three to five minutes of time are thus freed up at a potentially busy time to pause, reflect, clarify and collect one’s thoughts.
My first draft of this post started with the sentence “I never learned to meditate”. As I think about it, I actually have: brewing tea is meditation in and of itself.
(By the way: really hot water, space for the tea leaves to move, at least three minutes, and pour the milk first.)
This is from the