When i began drinking matcha tea several years ago, it was purely for my health. My doctor thought the antioxidants, clean energy, and natural mood boost would be good for my post partum body. As someone who can’t tolerate caffeine, I was nervous, but I picked out a mid-line brand and began whisking away. Without knowing it, my matcha ritual soon became about more than healing my body. It became about my mind and my soul. And gratitude. Anyone who makes matcha knows that there is something deeper that happens when the green powder is scooped and sifted, the warm water is poured, and the whisk does its ancient dance. There is a beauty in the simple green foam, in the few vegetal sips. It is a cup of brevity and moderation. It is a cup of thankfulness and grace. But perhaps this is all silly talk. Maybe I’m a little too serious about my little morning drink. Or maybe this is how all of life longs to be seen. . .

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