Making Time for Tea
I’m a daily coffee drinker, and my cup of coffee is like a hot companion sitting shotgun in the front seat of my accelerating life. Coffee has been my steady since I sipped my first brew as a college senior during a study abroad in Alajuela, Costa Rica, and it’s been riding with me ever since. In contrast, tea time is a taste I acquired just a few years ago. Tea time is a restful moment for reflection and connection, which I’ve come to acknowledge and respect as I’ve grown older. Consequently, a traditional tea ceremony was a very intentional stop on our stimulating but restless itinerary in Japan.
In ancient Kyoto, Japan, nestled equidistant from the Shake Shack, the KFC, and about a half dozen ancient shrines, past the fish and hot sweet potato tempura stalls of Nishiki Market but before you reach the Kamo River, sits a two story traditional tea house called Kyoto Maikoya. Kyoto Maikoya prepares tourist, ceremonial tea-seekers to step back in time. While I prefer coffee over tea, culture is what gives roots to life, and tea has been interwoven in Japanese culture for a thousand years. When I travel, I touch culture, fabric, trees - things - to see what they teach me. For one, I’m drawn to the earthy fragrance of tea leaves and the vibrant patterns of kimonos. I needed to experience it all. We reserved a private ceremony for 9:00am, before the crowds came back to life along with the extreme heat.
When we arrived at the tea house, I was given a pair of white socks and geta, or Japanese wooden sandals, and whisked off to an upstairs room in the adjacent building. I’ve loved textiles ever since designing and constructing garments with my grandma in my summers in Oberlin, Ohio. Perhaps even more than learning about the history of matcha and its ceremonial serving, I was looking forward to wearing a kimono.
When I entered the upstairs room, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the kimonos. It was like a mashup of wild berry and tropical Skittles for my eyes. A Kitsukeshi (kimono dresser) greeted me and directed me over to three racks of kimonos all bursting with bright plum blossoms, bellflowers, and chrysanthemums, in every hue of the rainbow.
I first selected a red and pink kimono, but a beautiful blue one caught my eye at the last possible moment. “Spencer loves blue,” I thought. I then selected a sparkly pink obi, a wide sash made of a stiff satin or silk worn since ancient times to hold the kimono in place. First, the Kitsukeshi handed me a najajuban, a robe-like garment that’s worn underneath a kimono, like a slip, to prevent stains and wear and tear. She then lifted the stately kimono around me which felt like I was dawning wings. After wrapping me in about four additional white belts to help the kimono stay in place, she placed the obi around my waist to hide the belts and completed the look with a magnificent bow.
The woman then directed me to a table of hair ornaments, which raised my curiosity if she had ever handled hair like mine. I selected an ornament while watching her gently finger wrestle my tangly, curly locks into the most beautiful pinup hairdo I’d ever had. Another woman escorted me back into the tea house, and it was like I stepped into what seemed like another time.
Traditional tea ceremonies originated in China, but the Japanese history of tea dates back to the Kamakura period (1192-1333) when Zen monks began to drink tea to keep awake during meditation (I might try sipping on a cup of matcha tea before the next time I try to sit for meditation). The hostess led us step by step through the traditional ceremony of making tea.
Making time for tea is symbolic for slowing down and activating the senses, enjoying the moment and staying in the present. It’s time to bond with others, commune with self, talk to God or meditate, or think. Sometimes we get too busy for contemplation about what we want and who we want to be. Tea time offers the rest and space to gain the clarity we need.
