I really like using the glass teapots in this picture, because I can watch the leaves of whatever tea I’m brewing unfold and infuse the water.
I’m sure that non-tea people find this to be a very bizar affectation. After all I’m watching leaves sit in hot water. Which to most people would be a huge waste of time.
But I’m someone who sees brewing tea as a skill, and I enjoy improving that skill. I’m also a tea merchant, and watching the infusing process take place helps me understand the the leaves, and the brewing process. To me it’s very useful knowledge.
(And it’s relaxing.)
If you’re new to tea, or a long time Gungfu practitioner get yourself some glass teapots, and brew your favorit teas in them.
Watch the leaves and the water do their thing. And I mean really watch it. Seriously. You’ll learn something. I promise.
Yesterday I had a taste for Sen Cha, so I went out to what would be my balcony if I did not live on the first floor of a five-story building, and I brewed some in my favorite red teapot from Tokoname, Japan.
As I sat and drank the tea I let my thoughts wander.
I started to think about all the things that happened since the last time I drank Sen Cha. It has been awhile, so many things have happened. Some good, some bad, mostly just… things. Neither particularly good nor bad.
And yet here I am. A “self” that is the product of so many moments. My self. (Or is that myself? I’m really not sure. Feel free to correct me if I’ve slipped up with the grammar.)
I wonder what it would have been like to be someone in Japan drinking Sen Cha for the first time after the Tsunami and subsequent nuclear disaster. It’s a strange mental moment consisting of imagination, assumption, and conjecture.
The voice in my head asks, “How many cups of Sen Cha in the sun do we get in this life time?”
I smile, say too few.
“This could be the last one for you, eh?” says the voice.
I take another sip deep green from my cup.