Through the nourishment of one’s Chádào 茶道 practice comes the realization that all cups inherently encapsulate the plurality of the languages of Life and Death. All the manifestations and expressions of the world, dwelling in their womb.
There is a certain beauty and sacredness in the use of smaller cups kissed by the character of time and the spirit of the people that adorn it. Humbly holding a contained, unintrusive, and honest amount of tea, giving birth to contemplatively unhurried sessions that then pass away as children of impermanence, as we are all bound to be. The silences and their eclectic nuances that color our lives are honored with an infinite and profound appreciation and respect. With no attachment, no detachment, here blossoms contentment.
The present moment and its precious flavor, dripping over every single shadow born out of light, build itself a temple where a safe refuge is found, diligently tended by its dwellers. A symbiotic relationship holding no name, no form, no substance, and yet, carrying an eternal, essential, and universal resonance infused and crystallized in all things.
A cup for oneself, a cup for the world. A cup for Life, a cup for Death.
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