LITMIR.BIZ

      INTRODUCTION

      They say it was the Divine Farmer, Shen Nong, who first sipped the Leaf, sitting in idle meditation beneath its great boughs when a single leaf fluttered calmly into his hot water. Others believe a tea sprout sprang up from the discarded eyelids of Bodhidharma, torn off by the stern sage for betraying him with a drowsy flutter during his nine-year vigil. In following the great tea scroll down from these times of legend, before even the calligraphy of history was first stroked, we might find the wizened jungle shamans who carried its leaves in their medicine pouches; further unraveling Daoist mendicants passing a steaming bowl of truth between them, the wind passing through the soughing brazier all the sermon they would ever need; past other bearded sages, monks and nuns sipping green tea in unison as the summoning gong drifts out the temple doors to the point where its vibrations meet silence; and then only would this hoary silk roll, saffroned with age, reach the point where the great tea sage Lu Yu first brushed the Classics of Tea, starting the library of tea words that fill this book, inspiring us with a “Tea Wisdom” as true now as it ever was.

      All the wisdom of this book, spanning centuries and continents is but a single steeped and poured truth: that at its center the calmness inherent in this ancient herb, steaming gently in water, unfurls not in a pot, but in our Heart.

      Beyond that calm place where we all drink tea—out of friendship, meditation, or to our health—we might say that tea is inspiration, spirit, ceremony, and breadth, calm comfort and amicable joy: Its liquor having fueled a long list of poets, painters, and calligraphers who created under its influence; mendicants, monks, and nuns who tended its leaves, drinking for meditation and as an expression of an ineffable wisdom passed from master to student; not to mention the museums of ceramics, woodwork, metal-smithing, and other arts explicitly devoted to the utensils used in tea preparation. Tea has christened weddings and funerals, been offered to gods and demons both, sat steaming between friends, enemy generals and their nighttime stratagems, and the first meeting of lovers—entwining itself around the human story in a romantic and spiritual sentiment as fragrant as its own aroma.

      From East to West, in mythic lands, ancient mountains, or modern tea houses that harbor peace amidst bustling cities, we drink tea because it makes us civilized; we drink it because of its inherent quietude, that we share in a moment of peace away from all the trials and tribulations of life; we drink tea because it affirms an ancient dialogue between Man and Nature through the earth, sky, wind, and rain that bore it. Tea brings together friends and lubricates social discourse with a calm joy that lets us be ourselves in the spirit of sharing. Why else would so many cultures so separated by age and distant in space make tea a time for relaxation, contemplation, meditation, or at least a good chat? Could more be said of Wisdom?

      No matter what one believes about the greater movements of our world and lives within it, a human life passes by in so many ordinary moments—all filled up with our daily works. And if we don’t find our wisdom in any of these, whether in part or complete epiphany, we’ll have passed the greatest part of our lives by, never having celebrated the small pleasures like a quiet cup of tea on a cool evening, as the sun sets behind the distant mountains. There is a way of experiencing what we’ve learned of ourselves, the universe and

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