Finding Balance in Modern Life: The Tea Ceremony

The practice of a tea ceremony is to give ourselves a little time to come back to the present by focussing on ourselves and our sense of the world around us. Modern life is busy and our brains are on constant overdrive. From the moment we wake up (often to a jarring sound of an insensitive alarm), we are in a highly susceptible state as we transition to waking consciousness. 

 

How many of us instantly then ‘plug in’ to the chaos of life? 

 

We may check our phones for messages, social media posts, or the news, and instantly activate our threat and drive systems by doing so. Never before in history have we had such an ever-present gateway to the suffering of the world.

 

Smart phone depicting mental health triggers from social media

 

Now of course it’s important to have our eyes open to the suffering that exists in the world. It’s part of our compassion to be moved by this. However, it’s essential to understand that our brains are not built for a relentless onslaught of threat and fear, especially non-acute threats, as this results in chronic threat system activation (which depletes our resources and makes it hard to be productive or focus on what’s helpful). Obviously, it’s not just phones that activate our threat and drive systems. The modern world is often an assault on the senses and so many of us are caught up in a competitive quest for more possessions, status and power. We spend our lives striving and achieving, comparing ourselves to others and pushing ourselves to avoid the underlying fears of rejection and inadequacy.

 

Living this way signals to our brain that we need to prepare for threat and our fear centres activate (such as the amygdala). So hormones such as adrenaline and cortisol start coursing through our veins, our muscles tense and our attention hones in on potential threats, preparing us to for flight, flight or freeze responses.

 

Our attention has evolved to focus on threat to aid survival. However, the mechanism evolved in the context of acute threats, such as focussing on an unidentified noise in the bushes in order to take reactive survival action if needed. It’s a far less helpful mechanism in the modern world, as a lot of threats aren’t in the here and now (such as our attention focussing on the cruelty in the world, self-critical thoughts, worries about the demands of the day, or distressing memories). 

 

When we start the day in a state of high arousal, this has a self-perpetuating function to it (as our threat system is primed to look out for danger and the cognitive and physiological components of the threat response will impact our mood, thoughts and behaviour). We may see threats everywhere, as if we’re programmed to maintain a bias towards the negative.

 

Given we can’t fight a future worry or memory, we may freeze (which is built into our DNA due to how helpful for survival this can be when facing predators who are stronger and faster than us). We may also have a lot of flight responses (which in the context of modern day threats typically comprise a myriad of escape and avoidance behaviours).  

Next time you catch yourself tidying up your inbox to avoid making a phone call you’re dreading, see if you can acknowledge this as your evolved flight response!

 

 

A lot of us cope with constant threat system activation by using our drive system (the dopamine system which evolved to motivate us to compete for resources and use goal-directed behaviour such as building shelters). This system can be helpful (e.g. throwing ourselves into work to cope with financial worries). However, like the threat system, it’s resource intensive and can’t be permanently online: it’s a recipe for burnout (see the work on dorsal vagal shutdown for an interesting perspective on how this mechanism has evolved in animals who face sustained threat they can’t escape from).

 

Online therapy

 

Given the prominence of the threat and drive systems in today’s world, our motivation on so many of our days is harm avoidance and competition. It’s a totally different brain state than when we’re in our caring system. You can experience this for yourself by imagining something scary and noticing how this feels in your body, what your mind feels like and what thoughts/motivations arise. Then, bring to mind a time you helped someone and they expressed gratitude for your kindness. Focus on this feeling in your body and notice the subtle differences in your internal experience. This exercise can help us glimpse the very different brain states we have available to us (and it’s worth considering which feels more familiar).

 

The majority of us in Western society aren’t great at building quality recharging experiences into our days. Okay, we might do yoga every Tuesday evening or binge watch a box set every now and then, but this can be like throwing a deck chair off the titanic in terms of the impact it has. If you are building recharging activities into your week, then this is a good start, but it’s worth considering whether this is a good-enough balance for you. The key evidence is how you typically feel: if you have lots of energy, can switch off easily, are sleeping and eating well and feel generally content and present, it is likely you’ve found a really good balance in your life. But if you often feel fatigued, achy, down, stressed, anxious, are caught up in your own thoughts a lot and each day feels like a struggle, perhaps it’s time to find more balance.

“I don’t have time for that”

“That won’t pay my bills”

“That’s self-indulgence”

“It’s a waste of my time when I could be doing something more rewarding”

There are lots of critical thoughts that can arise when we attempt to give ourselves permission to find a better balance. Life is hard, and there’s a lot of people struggling out there. So I’m by no means saying it’s an easy task to find time to recharge. What I’m saying is that, when we understand the evolved nature of our tricky brains (and how it’s impacted by the threats and competition of the modern world), it’s not an option- it’s essential. If we don’t recharge then it will be false economy, as our resources will periodically become depleted and then we’ll slip into exhaustion, physical illness/disease and our body will enforce rest upon us. If we get to this stage it can take a long time to get back on our feet (and we run the risk of criticising ourselves for this predicament, telling ourselves to ‘get on with it’ etc. and staying in this depleted, depressed state for even longer… triggering hopelessness and defeat states of mind).

 

There are many ways to recharge and it’s only by experimenting and trying different things that we’ll find what’s best for us personally. The key metric is whether we can rest our attention in the here and now during these activities, and whether this leads to us feeling slightly more refreshed or rested afterwards.

 

This post is on one specific activity to try: the tea ceremony.

 

The ritual of a tea meditation ceremony

The origins of the tea ceremony can be traced back to China, where tea was first cultivated and consumed as early as the 3rd century AD. The practice of preparing and drinking tea ceremoniously was influenced by the Zen Buddhist monks who brought it to Japan in the 9th century. Over time, the Japanese refined the practice into what is known today as the Japanese tea ceremony, or “chanoyu.” This ritualistic and highly aestheticised process involves the careful preparation, serving, and consumption of matcha, a powdered green tea, with a strong emphasis on mindfulness, harmony, respect, and tranquillity. The tea ceremony is not just about drinking tea but is a meditative practice that embodies the principles of simplicity and the beauty of imperfection, fostering a sense of inner peace and connection among participants.

 

Before the first practice, it’s recommended that you read the following guidelines once or twice but then put them down and trust you’ll remember the key points: your intuition is more important so the motivation should be on exploring this practice with curiosity and trust in yourself, rather than dwelling on thoughts such as, ‘Am I doing it right!?’

 

Tea ceremonies are often social rituals and so you can feel free to invite trusted others to join you if you wish. However, to get started, the steps are outlined here for an independent practice.

 

    1. Preparation. We plan a good time in the day to try the ceremony and make sure we have all the things we need ahead of time, and try to give ourselves permission to throw ourselves into this (as this is the only way we’ll learn if it’s helpful for us or not). If we take to this, we may then wish to source some items that help with the ritual (e.g. a certain tea pot we like, a rustic table we can prepare the tea on, a comfortable cushion to sit on etc.). But when we first start, it’s fine to work with what we already have (and to appreciate this). Green tea/herbal tea is commonly used but it can be anything really. The reason coffee or fizzy drinks are far from ideal is that a large part of the practice is mindfully connecting with what is going into our body (with some contemplation about its origins). That’s not so pleasant to do if we need to evoke imagery of a busy factory where countless chemicals are added to a synthetic liquid we’re ingesting! 

Peaceful setting for tea

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    • Setting. Before we start, we may wish to prepare the setting (e.g. finding a nice spot and somewhere to sit, having the tea bag and cup handy etc.). 

 

    • Soothing System. We may wish to start by trying to activate our caring (soothing) system (as otherwise we’ll be stressfully chugging down our tea and getting back to work in less than a minute, complaining about what a waste of time that activity was!). This practice is performed as a ritual: a series of deliberate actions performed in the caring brain state. The practice isn’t about what we’re doing per se. It’s about our awareness of what we’re doing. To activate our soothing system, we may wish to find a comfortable spot where there’s little sensory distraction (i.e. somewhere quiet with not a lot going on- being around nature if possible). Next, we take a few moments to adjust to the change of pace by setting an intention we’ll be giving ourself x number of minutes to have a break, closing our eyes, lifting our shoulders up and back and taking a few slow, rhythmic breaths, as deep as we can, focussing on the subtle sensation of the air as it moves in through our nose and out through our mouth. We notice what our mind is doing and just observe it, non-judgementally if possible. We play with our attention by focussing on the sensation of our breathing, our mind, and all the weird and dramatic thoughts it might be having. Next we focus on sounds for around 30 seconds- just listening. Then we focus on any smells or sensations in our body (such as the feeling of our feet on the ground). Our mind will want to think about this, and commentate on it. This is normal and doesn’t need to be fought against. All we do is label this as ‘thinking’ and guide our attention back to the object we’re focussing on (sounds, body, mind, aromas, breath etc.). With each slowed outbreath, saying to ourself, ‘calm the body, calm the mind’ (or our own mantra that reminds us this is about slowing down). There’s a whole science behind rhythmic breathing and how it activates the Vagus nerve and parasympathetic branch of the autonomic nervous system, but it’s a whole different post in itself! Plus, when we experience it for ourself (and notice the subtle sense of slowing), that’s usually more than enough motivation to continue!

 

    • Mindful Awareness. Now we gently open our eyes, taking in all the colours and shapes with our attention. We can also notice the space in-between the objects, cultivating an awareness of the stillness that is all around (that we forget is even there given our eyes are drawn to the ‘stuff’). But this can be helpful as it parallels the practice in some way – taking a break from the draining focus on stuff and things, and reconnecting with something more profound & still that’s underneath it all.

 

    • Making the tea. We now prepare the station where we’ll be making the tea (e.g. a table). Focussing on every action purposefully, we slowly perform the required actions and connect us much as we can with the experience. For example, when we take the tea bag out of its packet, we can notice the sound this makes, the texture of the wrapping, the smell of the tea bag if we tenderly bring it closer to our nose. We may wish to check the packet (if it comes with one) to discover where the tea originates from so we can have some awareness of its origins. We can imagine how it’s come to be and see if we can sense a connection with the people involved in its preparation whom we’ll probably never meet. We can recognise the gratitude that arises effortlessness when we think this way- what a precious gift we’re holding in our hands! What a time to be alive! As the water boils, we can again discover the hidden miracle in this by recognising how much we take something so precious for granted. We can notice the fluidity of the water, its partial transition to steam, the sounds and sensations etc.

 

    • Purpose and Appreciation. We try to use both hands where possible (e.g. picking up the tea bag), this signals a respect and purposeful attention for the ritual. When we place the bag in our cup, we don’t chuck it in and instantly drown it with water like an act of violence! We gently rest it in the bottom the cup before bathing it gradually in the hot water. We notice the colours that ooze into the clear water, see how they swirl and the fragrance they emit. When we are waiting for the tea to be ready, it’s time to reconnect with our breathing again, to be grateful for the stillness and the break in our busy lives.

When the tea is ready, we consider whether we can we see the clouds in our cup. The cultivate the insight that the water in our cup was once in cloud form and imagine the journey it may have been on since then. When we taste the first sip, we are aware we’re drinking clouds!

 

 

    • Drinking meditation in natureEnjoyment. We sit in this stillness whilst we enjoy our tea. If our body wishes, we can move around, but we try to make all our actions a conscious choice that stem from a place of care and stillness. If we walk for example, we purposefully take one step at a time, more slowly than usual, feeling the ground beneath our feet.

 

    • Endings. Once we are finished we take a minute to appreciate the experience we’ve just had. We’ve discovered a pause button that we now have at our disposal. We can then mindfully tidy our station and end the ritual (sometimes with a symbolic gesture such as a sound of a bell or something gentle we say to ourselves). We can then go about our day, hopefully with a little more lightness and ease than before. And we can always come back here to this tranquillity of peace when we need to regroup.

 

    • Routine. If we enjoy the practice, it’s worth considering a routine to ensure the practice becomes an important part of our day (e.g. setting an intention to do it at a certain time or several times during the day). The association of the ritual with taking a break will build over time and the practice will become much more easy to stick to then (as we’ll enjoy it, perhaps even growing to depend on it!).
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