just a cup of tea
I've been drinking loose-leaf tea - mostly from East Asian countries - for a few years now and have gradually become more immersed in the culture. After visiting Japan in 2023, I learnt how to prepare matcha at home and began drinking it every day. Then, I discovered the world of Chinese tea with its enormous variety, subtleties, and gong fu practice.
As I began to step into that world, I also became fascinated with teaware - ceramics and crafted objects to aid the process of brewing tea. Small clay teapots, gaiwans (lidded cups), chawans (tea bowls), gong dao beis (pouring vessels), tea scoops (chashaku), tea picks (for pressed tea), strainers, plates, stands... The list goes on.
I would spend quite a lot of time searching through teaware shops, planning my next purchase. Teaware can be expensive, especially the finer, handcrafted Yixing teapots or Japanese matcha bowls. A serious collection can cost a lot of money indeed.
But after a little while, and a little more reading around the history of tea, I started to become aware I was always encountering tea and teaware through a certain lens. As a symbol of purity and refinement, embodying a mystical, ancient tradition. I became suspicious, and began to recognise the hallmarks of today's consumerism, spinning its tales.
Tea and teaware had turned into something to gain from, something to achieve. We can find a more humble perspective in the role that tea plays in Zen Buddhism. I remember a passage in "Zen mind, beginner's mind", where Suzuki talks about how the famous Rozan mountains or Sekko lakes are imbued with a sense of wonder:
"People think it must be wonderful to see the famous range of mountains covered by mists, and the water said to cover all the earth. But if you go there you will just see water and mountains. Nothing special."
It took me a moment to learn that tea and teaware are nothing special either. They simply serve us as a means of appreciating the present moment.
To that end, I've stopped trying to find the perfect assemblage of exquisite teaware and I've learnt to enjoy just the little jumble of teaware I already have. I even decided to part ways with some of my small collection, only keeping the pieces I need for my usual cup of tea. One teapot, one gaiwan, and so on. I've found that these pieces, no longer treated as lacking, now feel more personal to me. Loyal companions, to be thanked and appreciated.
Happy brewing!