Sipping Tea

I was raised around many tea drinkers, and to this day there is something special about a cup of tea that brings a different vibe for me.

My mother loved tea, and she was the first to introduce me to it. She was an artist who specialized in graphic arts, and she made beautiful cups as part of her art collection. She always found ritual in her cup of tea. As an artist, she made it part of her beauty exploration. She didn’t seem enthused by any particular flavor as much as she loved the ritual itself. To her, it was an elevation of class and style.

Her favorite was Constant Comment — a Bigelow tea with citrus notes blended into black tea. She also enjoyed a great cup of chamomile, always with a little sugar, served in any beautiful cup she had made or purchased. I learned to make my cup like hers — wrapping both hands around it and pulling it gently to my nose.

Next was my paternal grandmother. I lived with her in my twenties. She made a half cup of tea daily — a demitasse. Never did I see her with a full cup. It was filled halfway, with the Lipton tag hanging out, a little sugar, and piping hot. With a slice of toast, she would sip loudly and enjoy this ritual in the morning — and sometimes during the day. Somehow, that loud sip became an indication of her calm. It was her moment to sit, watch the news, and ease into the day.

One of my best friend’s mothers had many teacups in her home. I was enthralled observing their different looks — flowers, birds, ribbons flowing across porcelain. What I later learned was that she was a tea leaf reader. She would brew tea, talk while you sipped, and then read what the leaves revealed at the bottom of the cup. Recently, my friend said, “The teacups belonged to Mom — why don’t you take some?” And I did. It only deepened what tea means to me.

Years ago, I hosted a radio show called Grace Notes. It was a show about graces and rituals — and of course there had to be an episode about tea. I invited guests who had something meaningful to share with my Christian-based audience. One day, my mother took my sisters and me to tea at The Ritz-Carlton — one of our favorite traditions. The guest that day was writer Alexandra Stoddard, known for her reflections on the niceties of life. I had the pleasure of inviting her onto my radio show, where she shared insights about tea, its origins, and its elegance.

Even though my mother has made her transition, my sisters and I remain avid tea house goers. Recently, our entire family enjoyed an incredible tea service after a tribute concert to my father in the UK.

My more recent tea adventures have intersected with business. A well-known artist and curator invited my sisters and me to his magnificent home. There was a wall of exquisite teacups — it looked like a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. The walls were lined with cups from master Asian artisans, particularly from Japan. Each one held meaning and connection to its originator.

He served us tea at a long dinner table that seated twenty-eight guests. We ate eclectic food, discussed life and business over tea — and, of course, sake. I learned of his deep appreciation for Japanese ocha and sake. These have become favorites of mine. Both are ritualistic in similar ways. I left with his signature ocha, matcha, and sake — reminders of my missionary days in Japan, where I learned the art of serving. I still treasure his signed bottles as part of my tea and sake collection.

Most recently, I secured a major deal over a cup of chrysanthemum tea. A record label president and I sat in a warehouse surrounded by wall-to-wall boxes of extraordinary vinyl art. We sat on small stools and sipped tea. I watched as he brewed a large flowering bloom in hot water, stirring it with chopsticks and pouring it into my cup again and again. Needless to say, we sealed the deal on two upcoming multinational projects.

Sipping tea has taught me love, insight, generosity, sharing, business strategy, mingling, and reflection. At our school, students are surrounded by tea. I love watching them hold their cups with both hands, inhale the aromas, brew for one another, and — most of all — solve the world’s challenges as they inhale, mingle, serve, and sip.

It has become one of our Stepney Institute rituals.

I am currently developing my own blend, which I hope to share soon. I have had many meaningful experiences around a cup of tea, but most of all, tea keeps me grounded. It connects me to memory, to ritual, and to people.

Come have a sip with me.