Come,
Sit with me,
Wherever you are right now,
Messy,
Tired,
Hopeful,
Heavy,
All welcome here.
We're going to share tea together,
Not rushing,
Not performing,
Just remembering who you already are beneath it all.
If you have tea with you,
Wonderful,
If not,
We'll imagine together,
Both are equally sacred invitations,
Invitations home to yourself.
Three breaths to arrive,
No perfect breaths,
Just yours.
Each one a gentle return to the truth of your being.
If your shoulders want to drop,
Let them.
If your belly wants to soften,
Trust that wisdom.
Your body remembers how to rest,
How to receive.
You might notice,
If you have a bowl or cup,
The way it fits in your palms,
The weight of it.
If you're imagining,
Feel that anyway.
Every vessel holds stories,
The potter's hands,
The earth it came from.
Just as you hold sacred stories within your own being.
Some day's presence feels impossible,
That's when we need it most,
But here we are,
Here you are,
Still willing to pause to honor this moment of remembering.
These leaves,
They grew somewhere under sun and rain.
Someone's hands pick them with care,
They travel to reach you,
This moment,
This invitation to recognize the sacred ordinary that surrounds you always.
Like waiting for tea to steam,
Some things can't be rushed,
Including your own returning home to yourself.
What do you want to offer this tea?
Maybe gratitude for your own tender resilience,
Love for the parts of yourself that feel forgotten,
Kindness to the inner voices that have carried you this far.
You know your soul better than anyone,
Trust what wants to be honored,
Let that intention settle in your chest,
In your hands,
In the steam that rises between you and this moment of recognition.
You are offering ceremony to yourself,
Remembering that you are worthy of such tenderness.
When it feels safe to do so,
Bring the vessel closer,
You might notice whatever fragrance is there or imagine the scent that calls your spirit home,
Green leaves after rain,
Comfort in a bowl,
The essence of being held,
Let it anchor you here,
You don't need to fix anything,
Just witness the sacred being that you are.
There are moments life strips away everything we thought we knew about ourselves,
When even holding a warm bowl becomes profound recognition of still being here,
Still capable of receiving simple grace.
Perhaps you know these moments too,
When warmth against your palms whispers you are still connected to life itself,
To the sacred ordinary that never abandons you.
If it feels right to you,
Take your first sip now or imagine it,
Let it touch your lips first,
That moment of contact with nourishment,
With care,
Recognizing your worthiness to receive,
When it feels authentic,
Let it enter your mouth slowly,
Don't rush this ceremony with yourself,
Taste buds awakening,
Throat receiving,
Warmth traveling down to your belly like a gentle reminder,
You have a body that knows how to accept love,
Your body has carried you this far,
Trust what it knows as this warmth spreads,
It remembers how to be held,
Now you're welcome to continue sipping,
Breathing,
Noticing,
When your mind wanders to your to-do list that's,
Well that's wisdom too,
Just gently return to the vessel in your hands,
To this moment of choosing yourself,
Like meditation but simpler,
Like prayer but more ordinary,
Like coming home to who you've always been beneath the stories,
You might notice the weight of the vessel changing as you drink,
The way warmth spreads through your chest like recognition blooming,
How your breathing slows into the rhythm of someone who belongs here,
Maybe memories surface,
Tea time with someone you love,
Quiet mornings when you felt most yourself,
Difficult days when you,
When simple comfort held you together,
All of it welcome,
We all carry these tender moments,
Both the broken and the beautiful,
The sacred threads in your becoming,
Each sip,
A small ceremony of self recognition,
Each breath between sips,
Sacred space for your spirit to remember itself,
Some days you'll have capacity for this depth of presence,
Some days you won't,
Both are perfect expressions of your humanity,
In Cha Dao we say tea is a bridge between you and the moment,
Between heaven and earth,
Between who you thought you were when you sat down and who you're remembering yourself to be,
What's the difference,
What feels like coming home,
Don't judge it,
Just notice the gentle returning to yourself,
If your vessel is finished or your imagined tea complete,
Set it down gently when you're ready,
Feel your hands empty again but not empty,
Full of warmth,
Of presence,
Of the recognition that you are already whole,
This remembrance is available to you always,
Not just with tea,
With any moment you choose to pause and recognize the sacred being that breathes through your ordinary days,
Take one more breath with me,
When it feels safe to do so,
If your eyes will close,
Let them open,
Look around as if recognizing home for the first time,
May you trust the wisdom that lives in your bones,
May you recognize that every act of self care is sacred remembrance,
May you find your way home to yourself again and again through the simplest ceremonies of love,
And if it feels right to you you might explore creating one mindful tea ceremony today,
Listening for what your spirit wants to remember pausing before any drink and asking,
What does my soul need to receive right now,
Simply carrying this recognition of your inherent worthiness into whatever comes next,
Take what serves your returning home and leave the rest,
Whether you have two minutes or twenty for sacred ceremony,
You're already everything you've been searching for
