No mud, no lotus.

As a meditation teacher, I try to be aware of people, place and time. To consider how I might offer respect and support in that moment.
At this year’s Deep Tea sessions, the people are my first consideration.

People:

Deep Tea events are organised by Cathy Zhang (tea scientist, owner of the elegant tea bar, Ms Cattea), and Adeline Teoh (writer, Sydney’s most supportive tea enthusiast and founder of The Sydney Tea Meet Up).

And this year’s hosts were Matt from Tea Angle, Uncle Rob from the Urasenke School of Japanese Cha No Yu, Cenk from Tea and Tantra, Lucie from Tea in Season, Lulu from Sydney Tea Hut, and Ms Cattea herself, Cathy, who would be offering Chao Zhou style brewing.

The guests are folks I may not know. Strangers who I will welcome to the meditation. And that is why I am explicit in my socials that my table welcomes everyone.

Place:

The place is Kaolin Surfaces, in Alexandria, Gadigal Land. Kaolin is owned by Rita and Anton, and their space is boldly creative, inviting exploration.

Time:

Season: Winter. NAIDOC week. So my offering to the 3 additional guests is more meaningful. An Acknowledgement to Country - paying respects to the Gadigal People, to their Elders past and present. Respect to the lands we are on. To ancestors. Then to all living things, to Nature.

3 cups for an offering. One to the Traditional Owners of the Land, one to Ancestors, one to all Living Beings.

As I prepare the space, I think of being present:

The space was named “Lotus”. In Buddhist philosophy, the saying “No mud, no lotus” invites an acceptance that the beauty of the Lotus comes from the origin of Mud.

The distractions of the real world (mud) seem challenging to mindfulness, but reality is the fertile soil in which we may practice meditation and mindfulness (lotus). The lotus requires the necessary nourishment of mud to bloom.

An acceptance of the world around us - of sounds from the next room, the light above us - might help us move into a space where we don’t try to control our space, but remember how to breathe.

Meditation is not about controlling; it is about remembering.

This is not to dismiss the truth of our lives, but by acknowledging them with honesty, we may rest a little more deeply. And be more nourished to face these challenges with more discernment and purposeful action.

Do not let the “imperfect space” be a barrier to rest. (Spoiler: there is no “perfect space”).

I let the guests choose their cups. Lotus flowers in different phases of seed, bloom or bud. We all meet as we are, and from there, perhaps, we may bloom together?

In exploring the depth of tea, might we also expand beyond our group? Letting in interconnectedness?

Whose hands have picked these leaves? These strangers whom we will never meet. And yet, they have tended these trees in a land we may never see.

Their fingers have picked these tender shoots, dried these leaves carefully, packaged, carried, transported, stored… We have trusted these strangers’ hands to imbibe what brews in our cups.

To share tea is to invite these quiet contemplations. One breath at a time.