Time
is like water, the years are like lotus flowers, and life is a pot of tea. This
is perhaps why people often drink tea when contemplating life. They can
meditate with a pot of tea and let it wash their souls, to get a clear view of
what is within and gain a sense of the realm of impermanence.
I
don’t remember when tea became a soul mate of mine, but I do remember first
encountering this special friend at Xishan teahouse. A stranger to the art
form, I was fortunate to participate in an authentic tea ceremony, which
resembles a solemn ritual. The tea master brought out a small ceramic stove – a
meticulously crafted stove with a lid and a small lid – holding a small heap of
burning charcoal. His instruments were a traditional Yixing teapot the size of
a fist, and six exquisite teacups white as pearls and paper-thin, so fragile
they could break with a gentle squeeze. To begin with the fire was strong
enough to boil the water quickly. As he worked, the tea master talked of the
origin of the water he was using to make tea, it was taken from a spring 18
kilometres from Beijing. As the ancient ones say: “Pure water must be boiled
with bright fire” and I believe the saying is true in this case.
Next
Premium Tieguanyin tea was set on a tray, and its origin was briefly introduced
to us. The teapot was now warm, and the tea master gently scooped the tea
inside the pot, and poured the boiling spring water inside. I still remember
the tea master’s graceful etiquette when he gently pushed away the bubbles to
keep the tea from the mouth of the pot, before rinsing the lid with boiling
water. Even an everyday action was done smoothly and skilfully, resembling
drifting clouds and flowing water, which really opened my eyes.
As
he worked, the tea master gracefully explained to us that this is known as “the
spring wind brushing the surface”, and its purpose is to clean and even out the
temperature between the inside and outside of the pot, so that the flavours of
the tea fully unfurl. The flavours of the tea already filled the air, and we
thought it was time to take a sip. However, the tea master once again surprised
us when he discarded the tea water, which he explained was to clean the tea of
any dirt and activate the best flavours of the tea.
Boiling
spring water was once again poured into the pot and each of the porcelain
teacups was rinsed with boiling water. After a long wait, I started feeling a
little impatient. It was then that the tea master picked up the teapot and evenly
poured the liquid into the teacups, in a circular manner for each guest. This
is called “Guan Gong patrols the city.” He explained to us that the first brew
of the tea should be poured this way, to ensure an even flavour in each cup.
When the pot was almost empty, the last drops were poured out in one graceful
movement, called “Han Xin calls the soldiers”, to evenly distribute the tea,
when the flavour was at its best. The tea was a deep beautiful amber colour.
The
brewing was now complete, and the tea was respectfully offered to all
attendees. The first cup was offered to the host, and the rest were offered to
the guests. I was instructed to hold the fragile teacup with my thumb and index
finger, and not to drink the tea right away but enjoy the aroma first. After
carefully observing the host, I put the cup under the top of my nose, and took
a small breath. The aroma entered my lungs, and my impatience vanished.
Instead, my mind was clear and relaxed. I took several small sips. The first
sip left a bitter taste on my tongue, making me frown. The second sip washed
away the bitterness, leaving a subtle sweetness in my throat. By the third sip,
the flavours filled my mouth, and I could do nothing but close my eyes and
enjoy the pleasure of this exquisite moment.
That
was the moment I suddenly realised that tea resembled life. The first sip is
bitter, similar to the hardships we have to overcome when we first enter
adulthood. Our first failures in life are no different from the first sip,
bitter and harsh. The second sip brought the sweetness, of our first
achievements. And the third sip is what I call realisation, when the material
things disappear, and we know that peace is the true meaning of life. Although
I cannot claim that I have fully comprehend the profundity of this art, and
maybe never will, I felt that my soul had become calmer, and the pressure of my
everyday life didn’t seem so intense.
When
I returned to reality, the teahouse staff had already cleaned up the table.
When I looked at my surroundings, I suddenly remembered a quote by poet Bai
Juyi of the Tang Dynasty, which he wrote while drinking tea: “Seven flavours
brewed in a teapot”, implying that enjoying tea incorporates the full scene,
the taste, the scent and the performance. Looking back, I feel fortunate to
have experienced a tea ceremony with all four elements.
The
predecessor of Xishan teahouse was an ancient temple with a history of nearly
1,000 years. Its quiet elegance and the ancient feel of the teahouse made the
setting for the tea ceremony quite beautiful. The tea water was from a spring
in the mountains, which was pure and fresh and helped maximize the flavours and
the aroma of the tea. After doing some research, I also learned that the Yixing
teapot also has a rich history. It was excellent with regards to all five
elements: age, clay, artist, style and production method. More important than
all the objective conditions however was the art of making tea itself. The tea
master truly excelled in achieving the right water temperature and the right
taste, which gave us the full experience of enjoying flavours, aroma, and the
hidden meaning behind the art.
Despite
being a stranger to the art, I learned a few things from the experience. One
cup of tea has three flavours, bitter like life, sweet like life, and peaceful
like life. A good pot of tea can outlast time, like the clouds and the sea
remain the same after thousands of years. A few friends can gather and enjoy a
pot of tea, and talk about life, about themselves, and about the world. I
believe that that is the way to live life to the fullest.
By Cinet