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16911Re: Tea Leaf Meditation/Memories

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  • medit8ionsociety
    Dec 25, 2009
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      Yo Papajeff,
      Great story. Christmas is a magic time and
      it's alway wonder-full when we have a chance
      to interact with those who have been blessed
      with special in-sights. Having a grandmother
      with them is extra special and her "seeing"
      your fate then brings it into the holy and
      inspirational vibe that Christmas should
      bring out in us (as should every moment).
      Thanks for sharing.
      Peace and blessings,
      Bob
      "Papajeff" <jeff@...> wrote:
      >
      >
      > This comes to mind today,
      > because, growing up,
      > Christmas was a time
      > of big family gatherings
      > at my grandmother's house,
      > and she would spend hours
      > "reading tea leaves"
      > for anyone who asked.
      >
      > If you're not familiar
      > with this particular
      > meditation ceremony...
      >
      > It begins with pouring
      > boiling water through
      > a metal strainer filled
      > with loose teas leaves,
      > to create the tea.
      >
      > The tea is caught directly
      > in a cup or tea post
      > that is held under the
      > strainer as the water is
      > being poured through
      > the tea leaves.
      >
      > The strainer, especially
      > after a few uses, begins to
      > get banged up a bit
      > and the screen damaged
      > enough to create bigger
      > openings. This allow
      > a few tea leaf clumps to
      > fall into the brew.
      >
      > Once the tea has been
      > sipped to the bottom,
      > clumps of tea leaves
      > are "randomly" left spread
      > around the bottom of
      > the tea cup, creating a
      > "picture" – for those
      > with eyes to see it.
      >
      > Nana believed in a benevolent
      > and informative energy that
      > could tell us of the future.
      > The fact that this mystical
      > benevolence chose to use
      > the unique medium of tea leaves
      > was apparently not questioned
      > by my grandmother.
      >
      > Anyway...
      >
      > One Christmas, when I was
      > young, maybe 8 or 9 years old,
      > I remember her calling me over
      > to her, so she could
      > "tell my fortune".
      >
      > Peering into her tea cup,
      > with me looking over her
      > shoulder into the cup,
      > she began.
      >
      > "See," she said, "There's
      > a young boy. That's you,
      > carrying a sack over your
      > shoulder. Do you see it?
      >
      > "See the long and winding
      > road? That means you are
      > going away on a long
      > journey some day. You are
      > going to travel great
      > distances.
      >
      > "See the little dog there
      > on the side of the road?
      > That means you will have
      > a faithful companion.
      >
      > "Oh, and do you see the bag of
      > money? You're going to be rich
      > and successful. One day,
      > you will walk a golden road."
      >
      > And when she said that, suddenly
      > I could see it all: the boy
      > carrying a sack, a little dog,
      > like a Scotty, the long and
      > winding road, and right there
      > in tea leaves at the bottom
      > of a china cup, plain as the
      > nose on your face -- I saw
      > a sack of money; classic soft
      > canvas bag, with leather
      > trim, stuffed full of money.
      >
      > And to make sure you got
      > the point, a big dollar
      > sign right in the middle of it
      > -- perfectly sculpted out
      > of tea leaves in the bottom
      > of the cup. I could see it!
      >
      > When I was in the 5th grade,
      > I used the word, "intelligent"
      > while describing my grandmother.
      > She objected to this immediately.
      >
      > She said very simply
      > and matter-of-factly,
      > "It's not intelligence.
      > it's wisdom."
      >
      > I wondered if her wisdom
      > came from the tea leaves.
      >
      > She could sit for hours,
      > crocheting, making a quilt,
      > knitting a sweater. She
      > would just gently rock,
      > deep in meditation - often
      > with a Camel cigarette,
      > that had long since gone out,
      > hanging out of the middle
      > of her mouth, about 3/4's
      > of it ash.
      >
      > Somehow the ash would hang
      > there forever without it
      > falling in her lap.
      >
      > I think she had a private
      > game going to see how long she
      > could remain still and keep
      > the ash from falling. Only
      > on very rare occasion would
      > she lose the game and
      > dump the ash in her lap.
      >
      > Once in a while she would
      > have to make a funny noise
      > with her throat and look
      > cross-eyed at her ash,
      > and in this way motion to
      > someone to rescue her.
      > She knew that any movement,
      > even trying to reach for
      > the ashtray, would knock
      > the dried ash off in her lap.
      >
      > Thinking back, she must
      > have been a yogini.
      >
      > Tea, anyone?
      >
      > Merry Christmas memories.
      >
      > Jeff
      >
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