2002 Shengpu - The Unknown Soldier

My boss often claims that he does his best thinking in the shower - to the point where he is allegedly considering putting some sort of waterproof whiteboard in there to scribble down his ideas. My wife claims that she does her best thinking in a similar environment.

Everyone needs their space.

For me, quelle surprise, it's the tea table.

A mystery 2002 cake

The minute I get into my office, daily life crashes into me. To-do lists. Students with graphs. Administrators with forms. Meetings, papers, reports, programs. The odd bit of actual teaching or research. Little room for thoughts, no space for thinking and pondering. Fighting fires. (Though it's great fun.)

Back at the tea-table, it's a different story.

Emptying out a busy mind, it all gets quieter and quieter until there's just the sound of me sipping tea.

It is fitting that a recent meditative session took place in the company of a mystery shengpu kindly provided by KCJ. This is a cake bought in Beijing with little information - it's an unknown soldier.

I knew that this tea was going to be special before I even approached the tea-table, just from my mood. Even now, as I pen these words, my skin tingles. I feel unburdened.

The colour of the dry leaves, shown at the start of this article, has a slight orange-brown tinge to it, which makes me think of savoury, Lincang flavours. The soup turns out to be orange with a slight brown-yellow tinge, again making me think of savoury grain. In the flavour, plenty of grain.

This tea is a wildnerness: wild honey, wild herbs, wild grasses. My nose clears, my mouth awakens, my eyes feel calm and sharp.

Clock ticking on the bookshelf.

Pen scratching lightly on paper.

Tetsubin singing quietly while it cools.