“In Chinese, we say tea washes the spirit. It’s not something that just enters your stomach, it also enters your mind. ”

— Patrick Cui, Tea Master

Are you a tea drinker?

If you are, I imagine you’ve heard of the Japanese Tea Ceremony or even the Chinese Tea Ceremony, but I’d venture to guess you’ve probably never heard of the Appalachian Tea Ceremony? Though not as formal as its Asian counterparts, this ceremony is no less profound.

Back in June, I had the opportunity to take part in this beautiful, heartfelt ritual designed to please the senses and satisfy the soul. I’ve always been an avid tea drinker, so I was very excited about participating in this special ceremony hosted the lovely Mary Morgaine Squire, aka Mary Plantwalker. Mary offers these monthly tea ceremonies at her home, Herb Mountain Farm, an Eden-like preserve just outside of Asheville, NC.

Mary believes in the power of plants to connect us to the beauty and mystery of life. “The plants are so generous and have so many gifts to give, there is so much to discover if we pay attention and honor them.” So Mary has created this special ceremony to help us “steep ourselves in the wisdom of the plants year round.”

Each month, she gathers seasonal blooms, creates magical infusions and then invites us to slow down, connect and listen deeply to each other, to ourselves, and to the wisdom of the plants.

Mary reminds us that humans have been making herbal infusions for food and medicines for thousands and thousands of years. In fact, it’s one of the things that ensured our survival as a species. Before the age of go-to pharmacies, like Walgreens or Rite-Aid, most people depended on foraged plants and herbal teas for their medicine.

On this occasion, Mary had timed the ceremony to coincide with the summer solstice, the peak of the growing and blooming season. She chose a beautiful assortment of 24 blooms to highlight her herbal infusion, which she had prepared in advance.

Once all the guests had arrived, Mary welcomed us into the shaded pavilion, draped in grapevines where we sat in a circle. She began the ceremony by giving each participant a gentle sound bath with chimes to help us clear our thoughts and settle into the experience. Then, after acknowledging the sacred directions, it was time to meet the flowers. Mary introduced us to the blooms she had used in the tea by naming each and sharing some interesting facts about them. There were some old familiars, like echinacea, lavender, and yarrow, but also a few new ones, like “cheese mallow”, a delightful little pink blossom named for its resemblance to a wheel of cheese once it’s gone to seed.

After the floral introductions, it was time to introduce ourselves, and our guests. Yes, our guests. Each participant had been asked to invite an ancestor or lost loved one to tea and to introduce said guest by sharing a little something special about the person.

This was one of the most touching parts of the ceremony. It was also fascinating to discover that there were ‘guests’ there from all over the world. There was a Nona from Italy whose stuffed grape leaves were renowned, a beloved grandfather from the midwest, an Armenian grandmother who had taught strength through suffering, and also Danish Grandmother who had been a postmaster and taught her granddaughter to knit–now a cherished daily practice. It was such an honor to hear these stories and to remember (literally to re-member) these beautiful people and their contributions to the lives of those gathered there that day. When we take the time to remember, to share and to listen, it’s clear that we really do stand on the shoulders of giants.

Then it was time to taste the tea. Mary encouraged us to listen and feel with all our senses. What do you smell? How does it feel in your body and what thoughts come up? Were the flavors familiar or foreign? And one final instruction to: “drink the tea whether you liked it or not!--because it's good for you!” Ha! Of course, there were no complaints. The tea was delicious. It was warm and fragrant, and green in flavor with a slight hint of spice that left a tingle on the tongue. Everyone had multiple helpings.

As we sat and enjoyed our soothing cups of tea, Mary posed a beautiful question for us all to consider: “What is blooming in your life right now?” she asked. The responses were as beautiful as the blooms in the tea.

The ceremony closed with an act of reciprocity. We took what was left in our cups and gave a little offering of thanks to the plants who had so generously given to us that afternoon.

As we dispersed, there was a palpable reverence in the air, and it was clear that everyone present had experienced some sort of shift in understanding–about time and place, about each other, and about the plants themselves. Mary had certainly worked her magic.

As an avid tea drinker and lover of flowers, I really can’t think of a better way to celebrate the solstice–or any day for that matter. Taking the time to sit and listen, to share and re-member, and to honor reciprocity was both humbling and profound. It helped me realize I need–no, I crave–more of these practices in my life. And, frankly, I don’t think it would be a stretch to say we likely all do.

If you would like to take part in an Appalachian Tea Ceremony or learn more about Mary and all her other offerings you can find her @ her Mary Plantwalker website. And if you can’t make it to one of Mary’s magical ceremonies, how about hosting your own? Here is an article that Mary wrote about how to host your very own Herbal Tea Ceremony!

Have you ever taken part in or hosted your own tea ceremony?

I would love to hear about it! Please share in the comments below.

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