Archives for category: Learning & Education

Intro: 

Every morning that I’m able to, which is most mornings, I sit and make myself tea.  As I do this I try to give the tea my full attention.  At times I’m able to do this with ease, but not always.  There are times when I have situations occurring in my life which cause my mind to become distracted.  It is during these times that my thoughts wander from what is in front of me, and rush into its memories of the past, or create an catastrophic imagined future.

I’ve found (like many people) I’m very good at thinking negative thoughts about myself.  Seriously.  I’m **really** good at it.  And when I’m involved in tenuous  situations my capacity to think extremely negative things about myself is is increased ten fold.

I’ve found that on mornings where I wake up feeling down, and negative thoughts are running amok there are two teas that seem to help me clear away the negative thoughts, and stay focused on what’s in front of me.  They are two very different teas, and they have two very different effects on my thinking, but I’m hoping that by writing about this that others will benefit from my experiences.

Sencha: 


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The first tea is a good Japanese Sencha (sometimes called Sen Cha).  I think this tea has been a good teacher of the importance of clarity and focus on the many small motions -or details- which when combined culminate to a beautiful sum.   The more pure, or “true” (as in true aim) these small motions are, the more pure and true their sum.

I feel like I’m being overly esoteric here… Let’s try this again.

Another way to put my say this would be: Sencha is a tea which I’ve found to be particularly delicate, and if I don’t pay close attention to the leaves, the water temp, and the time the leaves are remain in the water, the tea will become bitter.

This is true of so many things in my life…

Pu-Er: 

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This tea is very different than Sencha…  So much can be done with a good Pu-Er, and so many flavors can be drawn out of the leaves depending on how the person brewing them manipulates the water, the heat, and the time the leaves are exposed to each.

One only needs to be brave enough to try new things, and attentive enough to the ways in which the leaves respond to what is done.

While Sencha is a teacher of precision Pu-Er is a teacher of how to coax information through paying attention to the ways the leaves respond.

In the end: 

I hope that these words have been informative to you in some way. Thank you for taking the time to read them.

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A young man came to a master of the Cha Dao seeking wisdom.

The master had just selected a tea which he wanted to enjoy, and he invited the young man to sit and enjoy the tea with him.

As the master prepared the tea the young man watched very attentively, and was captivated by the ease with which the master moved as he prepared the tea.

When the first cup of tea was poured, and the young man tasted it he could not help but smile.

“Master this tea is really good!” Said the young man. “Will you teach me how I can do this?”

“Yes, of course.” Said the master as he poured another cup, and continued to brew the leaves.

“How much will it cost to have you teach me your methods master?” Asked the student.

The master smiled and said, “I don’t know. We’ll have to figure that out later I guess.”

“When can I begin my study?” Asked the young man.

“When you realize that you’re already master than you can start to be the student.”

The young man  had watched lots of Kung-fu movies where wise masters said just this sort of thing, and so he had expected something like this to happen.  However, now that it had happened he did not know how to respond, and so he just said, “Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.  You’ll get it at some point.”

“How will I know when I get it?” Asked the young man.

“It’s just one of those things. You’ll know when it happens. You might think it happens when it doesn’t… that happens all the time… but trust me when you know you’ll know that you know. It’s really nice when it happens.”

“Ok… What do I do next?”

The master stood and stretched. He looked at the young man and said, “I have to use the bathroom. Make some more tea.”

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.

~Spring is Here~

Spring has arrived, and just the other day I was able to have my first taste of some Long Jing Cha (AKA Dragon Well Tea) of the season.  The dry leaf was a vibrant green, and when I first smelled it the last thoughts of winter that were lingering in my mind melted away.  As I watched the tea leaves brewing in the tall glass, I realized how little I used to know about this wonderful tea.

I’m not sure if anyone who reads this blog will benefit at all from me sharing my own knowledge and experience in regards to this wonderful tea, but over the next few weeks I plan to post a series of posts which focus on various aspects of Longjing…

~General Information~

Longjing tea tends to be at the top of most of the lists of famous Chinese teas.  It is frequently given to visiting heads of state, and some would even go so far as to call it the national drink of China.

~The Name & The Myth~

Longjing (which translates to Dragon Well) is a place, a small town near Hangzhou City in Zhengjiang Province of China.  There’s a well in this town that people once believed was the home of a benevolent dragon.  I’ve heard lots of different reasons why people believed a Dragon lived in this well, but the most common explanation seems to be all about water.

The water in the Dragon Well was (and still is) very mineral rich, or “dense” water.   Fresh rain water would float on top of the denser ground water, and whenever anything -like a person dropping something in the well- disturbed the water, it created a swirling optical effect that resembled the shape of a swirling Chinese dragon.

The Dragon Well

Another less believable version of the myth is that all the wells in the area dried up during a drought, with the exception of one.  When the local people wondered, “Why does this well not dry up?”  someone said, “Because a dragon lives in it.  Duh.”  And seeing as how dragons are very powerful creatures who can control the enviornment, everyone thought that made sense.

Yet a third myth has to do with Emperor Qianlong of the the Qing Dynasty.  The story goes that one day the Emperor wanted to travel through the land he ruled and see how the people lived.  Obviously this is not something he could do if he just walked around, because everyone would be all like, “The Emperor is coming!  Be on your best behavior.  Look busy!”  So Qianlong dressed up like a normal guy and started to walk around.

Eventually the Emperor found himself in the wet lake region of Hangzhou, and he decided that it would be kind of cool to see how the tea farmers lived.  The disguise was working, so no one objected when the Emperor asked if he could work in the fields with the farmers.

Now Qianlong was not a fool, so even though he was incognito he made sure that people knew how to reach him if something went wrong and required his attention as Emperor.  As he worked in the tea fields a messenger arrived, found the Emperor and told him that his mother had fallen very ill.  The Emperor quickly dropped what he was doing and rushed back to Beijing.

When the Emperor arrived he did not waste any time changing or washing up but went directly to his mother.  A short time after Qianlong entered the room his mother asked him, “What is that smell coming from you?  It smells wonderful.”

Qianlong then took a moment to smell, and realized the smell was the oder of tea leaves from Hangzhou.  At that point the Emperor started to root through his pockets and he found some of the leaves he had been picking.  His mother said, “That tea smells so good.  Could some be made for me?”

Of course the Emperor had someone make the tea, and sure enough it was very good.  As luck would have it, shortly after drinking the tea the Emperor’s mother started to recover her health.

After this the tea became famous, and the Emperor demanded large amounts of it be given to him as an annual tribute.

~Intro~

I love preparing tea for other people, I truly do.  The art of sharing tea is something that I believe should be practiced more, because if it were people would more connected.  However, I feel that if a person does not learn how to make tea for themselves, the tea they make for others will not be as good as it could be.

~Our Own Worst Critic~

There is a cliché that we are our own worst critic when it comes to evaluating our creative endeavors, and speaking for myself I can say that this is very true.

Throughout my life I’ve had a hard time looking at something I create, no matter what it is, and thinking that it is “good”.  The flaws burn so bright in my mind’s eye that they blind me to the things that I have done well, and I’ve given up many different creative pursuits due to the pain and frustration seeing these flaws caused me.

Feeling that I was never able to make something which could live up to my own expectations of quality,  would dissuade me from investing the currency of my time into new creative endeavors.  However, learning to make tea for myself, is what helped to heal me from the damaged that years of looking at the glaring flaws of my creativity had caused.

~The Lessons of Tea~


When I first attempted to brew tea I was obsessed with doing it “the right way,” I would hyper focused on directions, and over think all of my actions.  As you can imagine the results were not good.  However, for some reason I choose to keep trying to brew tea.

Over time I stopped thinking, and just let what felt right take over.   The tea instructed me in “letting go” which is a lesson I’ve always had trouble learning, but I found the more I was able to accept this lesson and let go, the more my tea improved.

I still made lots of mistakes, but not very many that resulted in truly awful tea.  As time went on my mistakes became less frequent, and often times my mistakes would turn into valuable discoveries about tea.  Then one day it dawned on me, I had learned how to really make tea!  I had also learned a more valuable lesson, namely how to have more trust in myself and my actions.

~The Perfect is Not Real~

Another lesson I think I learned was that the “prefect cup of tea” is not real.  It only exists in the mind, and it exists different in each individual mind.

Even if it were possible to create the perfect cup of tea what would I, or anyone else for that matter, do with it?  The way I see it there are really only two choices…

One could drink it, which would result in it’s no longer existing except perhaps as a fleeting memory.

Or let is sit, and cool slowly sucomb to entropy.

The point here being: Even if a perfect cup of tea did exit outside of the mind, regardless of whether or not we drank it, the cup of tea it could not stay perfect.  It would be absolutely temporary, and time would take from it in the same way that it takes from all temporary beings such as you and I…

You, me, and the tea, are all so similar.  We exist for such a short time, and during that time we are perfectly imperfect.

It’s in this contradiction of perfect imperfection that the beauty of tea, and (I believe) the beauty of our own short simple lives, is revealed.

~ In the End~

I’ve found that after learning this lesson, the flaws of my own creations no longer cause nearly as much pain or frustration, and I hope that someplace someone else is having this same sort of epiphany.

~A Story of Frustration~

One day, not all that long ago, a respected person in the tea industry (who is being left nameless on on purpose) had said some negative things to me about my style of brewing tea.  I’m not sure if it was this person’s intention to helpfully / constructively criticize me, or if this person was actually trying to put me down, but I do know that the pointed words which were  spoken had a negative effect on my state of mind.   I also know that these words stuck with me, and jumped into the conscience mind whenever I attempted to brew tea for the next few days.

The overall effect was that all the tea I brewed was, at least in my mind, filled with flaws.  I brewed some tea for Mei during this period as well, and even she noticed that “something was off” with both my brewing style as well as the liquor that my brewing style was producing.  Needless to say this was extremely frustrating.  My feelings of frustration lead me to do some looking around on the internet for better ways of brewing tea.  It was during this searching that I happened upon a digital copy of issue eight of a tea magazine called The Leaf.

 

~A Quote~

At the end of the magazine there is a section for questions and answer, and it was in that section that I read the following…

“The path from the mind to the hand flows through the heart.”  In fact, that is the meaning of Gong Fu tea: that the mastery is in the heart and hand, not the mind. You can’t think your way to better tea.

The lesson for me here is two fold…

First: The disparaging comments that were sent my way were really got to me, they hurt my feelings, and the hurt made its way into the tea I brewed.

Being a male in western culture and admitting that such a mundane thing, “hurt my feelings” is something which is not the easiest thing for me to do.  Perhaps that’s foolish… I don’t know, but the fact remains that my feelings were hurt, and I was choosing not to recognize that.

I never did confront the person who made the negative remarks, but I don’t think I need to because when I was able to acknowledge my feelings of hurt the tea I was making seemed to improve.

Second: In addition to making me feel hurt the negative remarks also made me choose to over think things when I was making tea, and as the quote above says, “You can’t think your way to better tea.”

 

~ In the End~

It is important to realize that what we are human, and as such we are a mixture of thoughts, emotions, past experiences, and so much more.

When a person sits down at the tea tray they bring themselves, and their baggage, which has more of an impact on the tea than any other equipment or water temp.

It is equally important to realize how much brewing tea can teach an individual about his or her own mental and emotional state.  In short tea can be a tool of self exploration, and self discovery.

When these two lessons are combined the sum is: We bring ourselves to the tea tray unaware of ourselves, but if we listen to our heart as we go through actions of preparing tea we gain the potential to become more aware of who we are, and what has made us the way we are.  Ounce this knowledge is gained each of us has an opportunity to change the person who leaves the tea tray and steps back into the world.

~A True Story of Stress, Tea, and Lack of Tea~

As of late, my life has become very hectic and stressful.  In an attempt to alleviate some of the causes of my stress, I decided that I was going to work my ass off as much as possible, for as long as possible,  until the causes of stress (unfinished work) was done.  In addition to this, I was going to cut out the “unproductive” things that I did for fun from my life.

This was a stupid plan.

The past two weeks have had me either working or thinking about working almost non-stop.  I started to get headaches, I lost sleep, and eventually got sick.  When sickness struck, I was forced to stop working for the better part of an entire work week.

The first day day to work went OK, but all the old stress causing juju was still right where I had left it.  Today, my second day back, I woke up later than I normally do, and as a result I decided to forgo my morning ritual of preparing some tea in a gaiwan before gearing up for the day.  I did not think anything of it at the time, but as the day went on, it became more and more apparent just how “out of sync” I felt with everything.

By the time I returned home, my stress headache had returned and I was feeling rotten. However, I wasn’t upset by the discomfort because missing my morning tea led to a lesson.

~The Lesson~

Life is filled with things that need doing, and chances are that most of us will always feel pressure to keep chipping away at the endless list of things that we think “need” doing.  But living life this way is not sustainable. We all need to find some way of taking time to slow down so that we can keep our heads above the sea of things that we are swimming through.

For me, taking time out of each day to make a few cups of tea Lao Ren Cha style is enough to tune out the world and treat myself. Truth be told, I think that if they just took the time to try such a ritual, it would do the trick for many other people as well.  More importantly, not spending time with tea was much more harmful then it was helpful. Not only did I not save any time or find myself at all better for skipping my morning tea, I was obviously much more stressed and off kilter.

So if you ever find yourself thinking that you don’t have enough time to enjoy a cup of tea, see the red flag.  Slow down!  Relax.  Take a few moments to take care of yourself.

I know I’ve said stuff like this here on this blog before, and I’m sure that in the future I’ll say it again.  I repeat it because I think an important message.  I hope you agree.

~ Intro ~

It is not uncommon for people to go to a reputable tea shop, or to a tea store’s website, and see Dà Hóng Páo () for sale.  However, chances are that even though the tea that you’re being sold might be some very good tea, it’s not “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

In an attempt to prevent people from being misinformed about what they are drinking, I’ve written the post below. However, before you start to read it, I need to be clear about something.

What I have written is based on what I know about tea, and I don’t know everything.  If you see something that you disagree with please don’t hesitate to leave a comment or to contact me directly and let me know.  If I’ve made any mistakes in the post, I want to be made aware of them so that I can correct them, and learn from the experience.

~ So what is “real” Dà Hóng Páo?~

Let’s start with the myth of Dà Hóng Páo…

Legend tells of a time when someone who was of great importance to the Ming Emperor fell very ill.  In most cases, the ill person is the Emperor’s mother, but not always.  As a result of their close relationship to the Emperor, the sick individual received the very best medical care that was available at the time.  However, in spite of this lavish medical care, the illness did not abate.

As word of both the illness and the doctors’ inability to cure it spread throughout the land,  some monks who lived in the Wuyi mountains of Fujian heard of the situation.  These monks took pity on the patient and brought a very rare and special tea to help ease the illness. This particular tea had been harvested from wild tea bushes that grew directly out of the rock of the mountain.

When the ill person drank this tea, their sickness vanished.  The Emperor was overjoyed and ordered that magnificent red robes be brought to cover the tea bushes. In Chinese culture, the color red symbolizes luck, long life, and vitality.  However, whether these robes were for protection, honor, or both has never been made clear to me. Ever after their cloaking in crimson, this particular type of tea has been known as Dà Hóng Páo, which translates into large red robe in mandarin Chinese.

What makes this story interesting is while some of it is made of pure myth, many people believe that the four of the Dà Hóng Páo bushes from this legend are still alive today in the Wuyi mountains.  Tea which is harvested from these four bushes is referred to as “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

Needless to say, this “real” Dà Hóng Páo is very rare.  Nowadays, this rare tea is only offered to VIPs who have the good fortune to be presented with it by the Chinese government.  I’ve heard that in 2002, 2/3 of an ounce was sold for $23,000 USD.

A  funny modern “myth” comes from President Nixon’s visit to China in 1972. Upon his arrival, Nixon was given fifty grams of 100% real Dà Hóng Páo as a gift.  Rather than seeing this as the high honor, Nixon was reported to have been somewhat insulted by the “small” gift, and his staff needed to explain to the President how generous the gift really was [source].

~ What is “real” Dà Hóng Páo? ~

  1. Tea that was harvested from one of the four original Dà Hóng Páo bushes.
  2. Grows out of rock in the Wuyi mountains.
  3. This tea will cost a ridiculous sum of money.
  4. Chances are that unless you are a VIP visiting China or a important person in China, you’re not going to be drinking 100% “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

~ If it’s not Dà Hóng Páo what is it? ~

Calling tea Dà Hóng Páo has become a marketing tool to sell tea to people who don’t know any better.  Chances are, tea that is called Dà Hóng Páo and sold outside of China today is one of two things…

  • Tea that was harvested from a genetic clone of one of the original four Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

People have taken clippings from the original Dà Hóng Páo bushes and used them to make genetic clones of said bushes.  However, it is important to keep in mind that even though these clones are genetically identical to the original bushes, they are being grown in different locations.  This means the environmental conditions that these clones are growing in can be very different than the environmental conditions that the original bushes are growing in.  This can be explained by looking at a grape vine from France. Even though the vine has it’s origins in France, calling its product a”French wine” after it has been cloned and grown in California soil and conditions, would be quite disingenuous.

The correct name for this kind of tea is Xiao Hong Pao, which means Small Red Robe.

I’ve been lucky enough to try some Xiao Hong Pao, and I thought that it was very good.

The Xiao Hong Pao that I sampled was harvested from a tea bush that is grown very close to the geographic location of the original four Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

In my mind, Xiao Hong Pao tea that comes from the same area as the original Dà Hóng Páo is closer to being “real” Dà Hóng Páo, because these tea plants are going to be drinking the same ground / rain water, getting the same light, breathing the same air, and growing in the same soil as the four original Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

As I’m sure you can imagine, while Xiao Hong Pao is not as costly as true Dà Hóng Páo, it is still very expensive.

I’ve also heard Xiao Hong Pao be referred to as simply Hong Pao, which means “red robe” in mandarin Chinese.

~ So if it’s not “real” Dà Hóng Páo, is it bad? ~

No. There is lots of “fake” Dà Hóng Páo out there which is still really good tea.

You’ll notice that I keep using quotation marks around words like “real” and “fake” throughout this post.  That’s because in the end, I don’t really think the difference matters that much to the vast majority of tea drinkers here in the West.  My rule is that if I like something, I don’t really care what they call it, or if it’s “real” or “fake”.

So if you have something that is labeled as Dà Hóng Páo, and you like it, keep enjoying it!  Just don’t make the mistake of going around telling people that it is tea grown from one of those original four bushes that are over 300 years old in the Wuyi mountains.

Lao Ren Gorman enjoying some "fake" Da hung Pao

And if you want to show off a bit,  the next time you’re offered some Dà Hóng Páo, smile and ask the person if what they are offering is really from one of those four original bushes which were honored by the Emperor of China and see what they say.

Cha gaiwan lid + oolong

~ This Evening ~

As I was winding down my day, I decided I wanted some Ti Kuan Yin.  I loaded a very generous amount of the dry tea into my favorite gaiwan, boiled some water, and went about preparing the tea.

After washing the leaves, I performed my first infusion.  As time went by, I felt myself relaxing into the comfort that preparing tea brings me.  And then it happened.

I picked up the gaiwan, and poured the hot tea into a narrow cup without having any of the hot liquor burn my hand and without spilling a single drop.

I’m sure to most people this would not seem like anything note worthy, but to me it is.

~ Why? ~

The first time I tried to make tea in a gaiwan, I burned myself and broke the gaiwan I was using.  Basically, the first time I attempted to use a gaiwan was a complete and total disaster.  Seriously.  I sucked at making tea in a gaiwan!  And I don’t mean I kind of sucked, I mean I really sucked.

Of course, after that failed first attempt, I was frustrated.  Really frustrated, in fact.  So frustrated, that I bought another gaiwan, watched lots of YouTube videos showing people doing gongfu cha, and scoured the internet for information on how to properly handle gaiwans.

Another side effect of my first failed attempt with a gaiwan was that whenever I made tea I was filled with self doubt, and I tried to compensate for this by over-thinking everything little thing I did.  I obsessed over water temperature, the amount of leaves I was using, steep times, and pours.  As I’m sure you can imagine, the tea that I made when I was in negative state of mind was not very good.

Over time, it became apparent that I was approaching tea the same way that I use to approach math homework, which is to say I realized that I was being an idiot.  With the help of Mei, Dan, and some other more experienced people in the tea community, I learned to approach tea as something that was fun, in the same way that kids approach new games.  I mellowed out, and started to -literally- play with tea.  I would screw around with different water temps, and steep times.  I would use crazy amounts of leaves in my gaiwan or Yixing teapot…

This is when tea stopped being something I was interested in, and became something that I loved.

~ Which Brings Me to Today ~

Today I can use a gaiwan with out looking like a total fool.

Learning to make tea has helped me not take myself oh–so-seriously, and as a result I feel more relaxed, more confident, and much more happy.

~ End Notes ~

  • If / when you screw up using a gaiwan don’t worry about it.
  • Frustration is normal when you’re learning, but if you keep at it you will find your own tea mojo.
  • Remember: tea is something that you should have fun with.

In 1906 Okakura Kakuzo’s The Book of Tea (茶の本) was first published.  It remains one of the best and most read books on the subject of tea.  I’ve read this book, and found it to be extremely enjoyable.

From a Wikipeda article on the the book…

In the book, Kakuzo introduces the term Teaism and how Tea has affected nearly every aspect of Japanese culture, thought, and life. Kazuko addressed The Book of Tea to a Western audience and wrote it in English, not Japanese. He had been taught at a young age to speak English and was proficient at communicating his thoughts to the Western mind. In his book, he discusses such topics as Zen and Taoism, but also the secular aspects of Tea and Japanese life. The book emphasizes how Teaism taught the Japanese many things; most importantly, simplicity.

The Book of Tea (茶の本) is part of the public domain, so it is very easy to find free versions of it in several formats.

You can also buy a hard copy if that is more to your liking.

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