I never intended for tea to become a way of keeping track of my days.
It just happened.
There are mornings when I drink the first cup quickly, barely noticing the taste because my mind is already somewhere else. Then there are afternoons when I make tea and somehow manage to sit with it for twenty minutes without checking my phone.
Same kettle. Similar tea. Completely different pace.
I started noticing this because of a particular cup I use almost every day. It is nothing special. It is not handmade or expensive. It simply feels right in my hands.
Over time, I began to notice something else.
The way I drink from it tells me more about my day than I expect.
When I am rushing, the tea disappears quickly. When I am tired, I let it cool beside me. When I am in a good mood, I often make another cup without even thinking about it.
Tea became a small mirror.
We often talk about tea as something that helps us slow down. I used to think that sounded a little too romantic. A cup of tea cannot magically make a busy day less busy.
But perhaps that is not what it does.
Perhaps tea simply makes us notice our pace.
The kettle takes a few minutes. The leaves need time to open. The cup stays warm for only so long. These are small reminders that not everything follows the speed of a notification or a deadline.
I have also noticed that my favourite tea is not always the one I want most.
Some days call for something light and bright. Other days seem to ask for something deeper. And sometimes, after an exhausting day, I want the most familiar tea I have.
There is something comforting about not having to think too much.
Maybe that is why I have stopped asking whether I am drinking tea the right way.
Instead, I sometimes ask a different question.
What is my tea telling me about the way I am living today?
If I am drinking too quickly, perhaps I am rushing too much.
If I keep forgetting the cup beside me, perhaps my attention is somewhere it should not be.
And if I find myself sitting quietly with a second cup, maybe I finally gave myself permission to slow down.
The tea does not judge any of it.
It simply waits.
And perhaps that is the lesson I keep returning to. We cannot always change the pace of our lives, but we can become more aware of it.
Sometimes all it takes is noticing how quickly the tea disappears.
With quiet regard,
N. P. Lim
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The room is quiet enough to hear water. Somewhere beyond the paper screens of this traditional tea ceremony venue, a garden drips after morning rain. Inside a tea house on a tatami mat worn soft by years of kneeling, a tea master lifts a bamboo whisk and begins tea making. There is no rush in…
