Just leaves in water
Author Henry David Thoreau was an advocate for the simple life. His birthday, 12 July, marks a modern incarnation of his philosophy: Simplicity Day, writes Adeline Teoh.
The notice came at the worst time. ‘Rental inspection’ screamed the subject line during one of the busiest work weeks of the year. I looked at my tea cabinet, brimming over with tea and related paraphernalia. Something had to be done.
The drawer on the left was filled with unsorted samples; the one on the right with a store of resealable bags. The one in the centre could barely be opened, stuffed as it was with an assortment of tea accessories, from novelty infusers to spare utensils and my ‘long lost’ electrical cup warmer.
Somehow, celebrity organising consultant Marie Kondo had taken up residence on my shoulder, waiting until I held an item before asking the essential question: does this spark joy? Tea rex novelty infuser – yes; ugly pu’er pick – no.
The cabinet area was even worse, a graveyard of tea flasks I’d bought over the years searching for ‘the one’, as well as an array of brewing equipment I’d experimented with, from a drip coffee setup to gongfu cha travel kits. Plural.
On Instagram, I ogle ritual afternoon tea spreads with matching teapots, teacups and saucers, milk jugs and sugar bowls with a pot for jam and a pot for cream, cutlery for stirring and cutlery for spreading condiments; the ads I see are for tea-making kettles and Kickstarters for specialised tumblers that brew tea on the go. Then, like an antidote, there’s a photo someone has shared of a bowl of tea sitting on the ground.
How did tea become so complicated? I asked myself. While I don’t begrudge anyone their houseful of tea gear – clutter is, after all, defined as the things you don’t want – I realised that sometimes we forget that tea is as simple as leaves and water.
In his book Walden, author Henry David Thoreau encouraged a life of simplicity. “Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth,” he wrote. And while it has been more than two centuries since his birthday on 12 July (1817), Thoreau followers remember his philosophy by observing Simplicity Day each year.
So, this Friday, put away the fancy brewing gear and the fussy teaware and take out a bowl, drop in some tea leaves and hot water and go outside to sit and sip for a moment.
Correction: In our last edition, Adeline wrote that the monk Eisai (Yosai) brought tea from China and planted those seeds on Honyama, Shizuoka. It appears the story she heard confuses two similar words.
Japanese tea instructor Harumi Oshitani says Yosai brought seedlings from China and planted on Mount Seburi, the seeds of which were given to a monk called Myoe Shonin and planted in Kyoto, also known as honcha (true tea). The origin of Shizuoka tea goes back to when reverend priest Shoichi Kokushi brought tea seeds from China and planted in the area. Later, tea producer Kotaro Tsukiji named the tea honyamacha (Honyama tea).
(Below: Leaves in a bowl; photo credit: Global Tea Hut)
