Earlier this spring, my tea master shared this year's first harvest of Korean green tea, sejak. I didn't like it. It wasn't the sejak I had come to know. Over the years, I had grown to love the gentle smokiness and quiet strength that I associated with sejak. This tea was different. Softer. More restrained. Almost delicate. Quietly, I wondered if something had gone wrong. A few days later, I prepared the same tea for Shane. An ambient guitarist and music software developer, he spends much of...

I was backing out of my driveway on my way to the yoga center when I saw the old woman. She was standing beside a car parked on the street. She looked at me and raised her hand. Not a wave. A signal to wait. I stopped the car. She stepped into the road. She was tiny and bent forward at the waist. One foot dragged slightly behind the other. There was something lying in the middle of the street. At first I thought it was a piece of trash. The woman kept walking. When she reached it, she bent...

A few days ago, a tea client and friend shared a version of Rumi's poem, "The Guest House" with me. This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. ... The poem invites us to welcome whatever enters our lives: joy, sorrow, shame, delight, grief, uncertainty. We do not choose who arrives at the door. Our task is simply to receive each guest with dignity. As I sat with the poem, I found myself thinking about green tea. Not because tea removes sorrow. It does not. But because...