A Japanese Tea Ceremony officially opens the summer talks in the garden.

On June 17th 2006, we had a Japanese Tea Ceremony in the garden to officially open it for the summer "Saturday Sunrise Talks in the Garden". An island friend, who has been a student of tea since 1983, graciously responded to our request of performing a tea ceremony as a way of honoring the garden. She was able to adapt the formal ceremony that usually takes place in a traditional tea room, for our garden setting.

We chose to hold it in our Heart Room which was large enough for 11 people to attend, plus our friend and her assistant. She brought all of the beautiful bowls and utensils that she uses for the ceremony, as well as a hand carved table, especially carved for her by a local artist.

We sat near the garden entrance on benches that had been covered with bright read felt fabric. Nearby was a small rectangular table with a bright red silk cloth decorated with golden Oriental designs. On it was her hand crafted guest book and the offering basket.

She proceeded to explain the significance of the ceremony and the system that we would be using to enter into a space of "harmony, purity, and respect—the gateway to tranquility". There would be no talking during the ceremony except by one person who was chosen to ask questions that they thought the group might have. At the very end there would be a time for questions by everyone.

We began by walking around the outside perimeter of the garden, as I do every morning before entering the garden. As I walk, I focus my energy on my highest intention for the garden, keeping it in my heart, until I have come full circle.

We walked together in single file, until we reached the entrance of the garden, where a table had been prepared with a beautiful bowl of water and a wooden ladle for washing our hands and mouth. She showed us how to do this and to let the last bit of water in the ladle flow down the handle before setting it back down on the bowl. We could then wipe our hands on a small towel the was folded neatly in a basket nearby. She explained that this was a symbolic act of cleansing ourselves from the "cares of the world" before entering into the garden and beginning the tea ceremony.

We entered the garden in silence. As we all sat together in the Heart Room, she told us about the scroll that was hanging nearby her. She had asked me to choose a poem that would represent the intention of the ceremony. I found a Rumi quote that felt just right.

"Try to be a sheet of paper with nothing on it.

Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing,

Where something might be planted,

Possibly a seed,

From the Absolute."

We were then each given a little square of sweet cake on a decorated napkin. Once we were all served we began, one by one to partake of it, but only after saying the Japanese word that sounds like "O-sock-a-knee" to the person to our left, which means please forgive me for going before you. And then we would say "I will join you" to the person on our right who had already partaken of their cake. Practicing these two actions throughout the ceremony was a wonderful way to remember to include and honor each other. Over the course of the next hour, we all began to get the hang of it and began to shift into a subtle deepening of our connection to each other.

The next phase of the ceremony was the making of the tea and the serving of it in one of 4 bowls that had been chosen for the occasion. Each bowl was symbolic in its shape, form and decoration. One was a special design that had been used for hundreds of years in the Japanese Tea Ceremony. Another was decorated with peach blossoms, another grape leaves, and the last was the bowl that our friend had purchased for performing her first tea ceremony.

The preparation of tea is like watching a master doing Tai Chi. Each movement of the hand and each item that is used flow together in exquisite grace and delicacy. For each cup of tea a little napkin, perfectly folded and tucked in her waist band, was carefully taken out to wipe the top of the little container holding the tea. It was then folded again with exact movements of the hands and fingers, into its angular pattern and tucked away. The little bamboo ladle which was used to scoop out the green tea was set down perfectly, with honor and reverence. Prior to the ceremony, I was asked, out of respect for the ladle, to choose a name for it that would connect it to the garden. I chose the Japanese name "tondo" for dragonfly. At the end of the ceremony there was a special time when this name was shared with the group.

Another important item in the ceremony is the iron tea kettle. It is treated with utmost respect and is never to be touched with the hands. When our friend came over with all of the items for the ceremony, they were each neatly packed and handled with respectful care. She explained then, that the kettle has a special role to play. Not only is its function important, but it influences the flavor of the tea as well. The kettle does have a lot of personality and surprisingly I found myself really enjoying watching the steam float out of it and gently disappear—speaking to me of the transient nature of life.

Water was caringly ladled out of the kettle, long handled bamboo ladle placed in its exact spot, and whisk picked up carefully with motions and timing designed centuries long ago, in order to froth up the tea and water. Then each person was served a bowl by the assistant, with attention to the back and front position of the bowl. We had been instructed to receive the bowl with certain hand positions, to raise it up above us in a gesture of giving thanks, to acknowledge the person to the right and left as well as the tea master, and turn the bowl in certain ways before drinking and returning it to the assistant. Each position of back and front was designed to be a reminder of honoring and respect between the assistant and participant.

The tea ceremony has been likened to the Eucharist, because of the experience of communion with the spirit within. As I sat in the peace of the garden, with the sounds of the birds, and gentle morning sunlight casting its first rays upon us, I was reminded of the first times I took communion outdoors at the church camp of my youth. The tea ceremony had worked as a catalyst for me to go within and make contact with that which is holy inside myself. Participating in the ceremony with others, as with communion, had given support to the process and lent an extra benefit of spiritual bonding with each other. When the ceremony was over each person left the Heart Room and connected with our friend, where there was a moment for personal words, tears, hugs and sharing. The look on our faces and the beautiful silence was evidence of the sacred place that had been created.

The tea ceremony is a fabulous reminder that the intimacy created by the practice of staying fully present in the moment is available all of the time. It's just a matter of awareness and choice.

I have carried the wisdom of the tea ceremony into my gardening and into my daily life. I feel so grateful to our friend for her skillfulness and generosity of spirit. If you ever have the chance to experience a tea ceremony, take advantage of it and see what happens for you.