Your data. Your choice.

If you select «Essential cookies only», we’ll use cookies and similar technologies to collect information about your device and how you use our website. We need this information to allow you to log in securely and use basic functions such as the shopping cart.

By accepting all cookies, you’re allowing us to use this data to show you personalised offers, improve our website, and display targeted adverts on our website and on other websites or apps. Some data may also be shared with third parties and advertising partners as part of this process.

Nora Dal Cero
Background information

In Zen mode: how a tea ceremony emptied our heads

Darina Schweizer
5-12-2024
Translation: machine translated

As the biggest tea lovers in our team, it was clear that Steffi and I had to take part in a tea ceremony. We had our matcha brewed in a ceremony at Museum Rietberg. A lot of things went through our heads - until it was completely empty.

In the cocoon of silence

Soon after me, Steffi arrives - half as stressed but twice as tired as me. We are led into the attic with six other people. Here we take off our shoes and step into the tea room (Isshin-an), which measures around four by four metres. It is furnished with customised furniture and wooden walls as well as ornate scrolls from Japan. The smell of cedar is in the air.

Dimmed light falls through the darkened window. In front of it are a tea kettle, a jug and a small tin. Christoph Meier kneels down next to it. We also sit down on cushions around him. Most of us make ourselves comfortable sitting cross-legged. The tough ones kneel - for now.

A sweet greeting

It gets so quiet that I can only hear my own heartbeat. Christoph Meier presents a box and explains that every tea ceremony begins with a sugary greeting

He walks around with tea sweets and shows how to receive them:

  1. Bow to the person in front of you
  2. Bow again when the treat is offered to you.
  3. Pick up the tray and bow again before taking it
  4. Put the biscuit down in front of you and pass the tray on.
Steffi: "Remember the sequence. Bow with Darina, receive the sweet and bow with Christoph Meier. Bow, candy, bow."

No one moves. Everyone stares mesmerised at the delicate and delicately painted sweet that lies temptingly before them. If we were dogs, our saliva would drip onto the floor

Darina: "My God, how delicious does this biscuit look? I mean ... that crunchy icing! If I just put it in my mouth now ... No, don't think about it. Breathe! Breathe!"

We breathe, we wait, we hold on. Until Christoph Meier says we can take it - one by one. We all let the biscuits melt in our mouths. A few cracking chewing noises echo in the quiet room. A teenager giggles sheepishly.

Impatience is building

Christoph Meier doesn't react, his attention is fully focussed on the ceremony. With a smile, he kneels down in front of us and informs us that he will be leaving the room shortly. He rises in his tightly wrapped kimono, rolling over his toes towards the back. I am amazed. He disappears behind a sliding door.

Meanwhile, the noise in the tea room gets louder and louder. At first I think of drainpipes, until I realise the obvious: It's the iron kettle (kama). Christoph Meier returns with small cups on a tray. They are decorated with chestnuts - the symbol of autumn. He explains that the tea kettle is traditionally placed closer to the guests at this time of year than in summer so that its warmth radiates to them.

Acutely but carefully, he unscrews a small, black tin. He places the lid flush next to it, then grabs a wooden spoon. He dips it straight into the tin and pours a green powder into the cup: matcha powder. He then screws the can shut and places the spoon on the can at an exact right angle.

Darina: "Can't we shorten the process? How long does it take?"

Some people slide around restlessly on their cushions. Those who have been kneeling change to sitting cross-legged. Every now and then, a rusty back cracks. Christoph Meier opens the kettle. He uses a wooden ladle to spoon hot water into the teacup. He runs the ladle over the edge of the kettle, from left to right, and taps it exactly four times. He then draws cool water from the fresh water jug (mizusashi) and dries the edges of the cup with a tea towel (fukusa).

As we learn, every movement is practised and follows a strict sequence. Every cup follows the same ritual. Christoph Meier reaches for a bamboo whisk. He uses it to froth up the matcha powder in the teacup. It scrapes, rustles and the porcelain tinkles softly like a singing bowl. The whirling broom slowly blurs before my eyes.

Darina: "Somehow this is ... relaxing. I wonder if I'll soon dissolve like the matcha powder? Hello, stay here!"

Routine is deadly...comforting

The first three tea bowls are ready. Christoph Meier hands them out one after the other and shows us how to hold them: left hand at the bottom, right hand on the rim. Then take small sips. The first of the group bow their heads, take a sip, bow again and drink. The ceremony leader fetches the next cups from the next room. We already know the procedure.

Darina: "Oh, it's somehow reassuring when it's already clear what's coming next."
Steffi: "I just hope I can still sleep in the early evening despite the green tea."

No one slides around on their pillow anymore. Everyone just sits there and watches spellbound as Christoph Meier hands out the cups. Quiet sipping noises can be heard, nothing else. Even the teenager is no longer giggling.

Step by step, Christoph Meier prepares the last three cups. When one is finally placed in front of me, I bow my head, grab it, bow my head again and bring the bowl to my nose. The typical smell of green tea reaches my senses. If I had wanted to gulp it down like a biscuit earlier, I now pause for a moment. As the saying goes: "There is a space between stimulus and response. In this space lies our power." Then I take the first sip.

Darina: "Oh, I didn't expect that. How frothy and airy it is. And the bitter notes are very gentle. It tastes so delicious. Mhhh!"

Now it's Steffi's turn too.

Steffi: "More tart and bitter than I expected - but still delicious.""

Arrived in Zen mode

Christoph Meier kneels down in front of us one last time. He explains how we fold up the napkins on which the tea sweets were placed at the beginning and stow them in our sleeves. Normally, each guest takes their own. We fold them. Nobody cares if they do it perfectly. Everyone is at peace with themselves.

After 60 minutes that feel like the blink of an eye and at the same time endless, the ceremony leader steps to the window. Only gradually do we realise that the tea ceremony has come to an end - our sense of time has dissolved. Christoph Meier pushes the blackout curtain aside. Bright light streams in and opens up a view of a magnificent treetop. "Wow," someone breathes. It's time to open up to the outside world again. We are ready.

How about a tea ceremony in your own home? You can find the right products with a relaxed click in our shop.

Header image: Nora Dal Cero

16 people like this article


User Avatar
User Avatar

I love anything with four legs or roots - especially my shelter cats Jasper and Joy and my collection of succulents. My favourite things to do are stalking around with police dogs and cat coiffeurs on reportages or letting sensitive stories flourish in garden brockis and Japanese gardens. 


Background information

Interesting facts about products, behind-the-scenes looks at manufacturers and deep-dives on interesting people.

Show all

These articles might also interest you

  • Background information

    «I’ll fix it someday. I swear I will.»

    by Michael Restin

  • Background information

    "Kuhn Rikon": How a metal disc becomes a cooking pot

    by Simon Balissat

  • Background information

    Kokedama trend – my (literal) Kate Moss

    by Darina Schweizer