On Drinking Tea

I open my eyes. A great sense of peace dawns on me. I feel well rested. I am thankful for a new day. I am alive, and I want to live.

I go into the kitchen. I scoop a teaspoon of loose oolong tea leaves into a petite glass tea pot. These tea leaves are gifts from my parents. I use only a tiny bit every time since I want them to last.

The tea leaves look like tiny pearls. But after bathing in hot water for a minute, they sprout and fully extend. The color of the water becomes beautifully golden. The fragrance is awakening.

I take a sip of the tea. The complex flavor explodes in my mouth. It’s smooth like silk. Its slight bitterness provides depth and definition. It’s also 甘, which is a blissful kind of natural sweetness that brings peace and comfort.

In this tea, I see amazing miracles in the natural world. The rain that nourishes the microbes in the soil. The sun that provides life-transforming energy. The seed that lays dormant for months but eventually gives life to these beautiful leaves.

In this tea, I see the hard work of the human hands. The farmers who tirelessly water the plant. The tea growers who worry whether the crops will produce. The workers who harvest, ferment, dry the tea leaves that eventually allow me to enjoy this fruit of the earth.

As I savor this tea, the world and I unite and become inseparable. I become the world, and the world becomes me.

There is no need for anything else.