The Key to the Sacred Place:
By Joshua Linvers, Written between April and August 2024
Read time: 32 minutes

Why though?

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve liked mythology. Whether I was reading stories of Anubis and Horus, Zeus and Hera, or Amaterasu and Susanoo, these stories have always been fascinating to me. The continued updates we discover through archaeology keep me active as a fan, and I’m often listening to a podcast about these kinds of things during my commute to work. Stories and the art of storytelling is just a great part of life, and as far as we know, we’re the only beings capable of doing that.

I believe there is a latent power in our minds that the vast majority of us (myself included) have forgotten how to use, a method via meditation to temporarily leave our bodies and explore the world beyond. Perhaps in that other place, is the origin of these mythological stories.

Even if we just look over our recent history, there have been figures such as the great psychic Edgar Caycee who seem to have proven without a doubt that this other world exists, and that it’s navigable. My dad was a big fan of his, as was the wife of the first consul general of Japan that I worked for as a butler. Despite many believers of this, not many people talk openly about the paranormal or spiritual world for fear of being ridiculed.

So to move away from that, I can mention the story of Billy Milligan, who as a young boy in Ohio went through a traumatic event which fragmented his consciousness into 24 multiple personalities. Decades later as an adult, he was eventually ‘repaired’ by psychologists __albeit temporarily__ to a super-personality with crystal clear recollection of his life, down to the minute. Which as amazing as it is, pales in comparison to his bodies transformation as his fragmented selves, the protector personality Ragen Vadascovinich, or diabetic lesbian personality Adalana. Billy Milligan’s story shows us there is a lot we can learn about the capabilities of the mind over matter.

There is a Taoist belief that we can cultivate our mind and qi to become immortal through proper meditation, and using tea for meditation is a viable path towards this. It’s all very interesting.

Over the last decade, I’ve made a commitment to reading some of the worlds literary classic’s with an emphasis on works from Japan and China. After reading through several thousand pages of observation, it’s clear that times are different. When I look around at the world today, it seems that most of us are either too busy to see the world as beautiful, or too depressed to look at it at all. But before AI designs its seemingly inevitable algorithm to trap us in a perpetual viewing of 30 second videos, I’d like to propose an alternative method to interact with reality, as the poets did long ago, introspection with tea.

In writing this piece, I took some time extra to reflect on why my life is as it is. The simple answer seems to be that I wanted it to be this way. I know what I want because I take time to think about it. I can take this time because I have a hobby that I’m passionate about that allows me to think at my own pace. Although I want to learn these secrets of the mind, of astral projection, of meditation, etc. I can’t seem to get the motivation to do so just through the idea of meditation as is, but I’ve had a lot of success with deep thought via meditation through tea. It seems that passion is the key for a near infinite source of energy.

I feel a sort of primal happiness when encountering new aromas and flavors for the first time. I get a similar sense of fulfillment when deciphering the fragrance of complex aromas such as those found in tea, coffee, wine, or perfumes. I like to play a game where I let my mind weave together stories about them, how and why they smell as they do, and consider what combinations of things I could blend to approximate them. Sometimes the game is minutes long, sometimes an hour or more, I’ll get lost in the maze of my thoughts, exploring different paths until I reach the end or give up. Time flies.

Occasionally I’ll find something strange. A rock wall that’s too smooth to climb, or an island that my boat just can’t quite make it to. These places don’t seem impossible to access, though perhaps their proximity is an illusion. In any case, they’re a door that’s off limits, set with a lock. I make a note whenever I encounter one of these and move on with my life.

I’ve come to understand that the way I think about tea is non-typical, but I don’t find it incomprehensible. Though I’m not unique or alone in my pursuit of using tea for meditation, it would seem that I am among the minority of people who are practicing this today. It’s a lonely hobby, but I wonder if it really has to be?

I take great satisfaction in guiding others to these aromatic landscapes; but finding new interesting ones requires genuine effort and luck. Many times, when I show people the teas I am crazy about, it stops on a note such as “Wow! That was one of the best teas of my life, thank you!” — it’s disheartening. While on one hand I’m glad that they like it, receiving such an answer reveals that I’ve failed my mission.

I wish they might say something along the lines of “are there other things like this!?” a deeper answer that is infused with ambition to explore further, an answer that reveals that I may have found a companion for my mission. Something, or somethings are stopping others from feeling what I feel, the passion for exploration. My mission, dare I say ‘my calling’ is to find out what these ‘things’ are. Surely the answer is hiding in this article, as a vague concept or written somewhere between the lines.

I didn’t always think this way. It started in my early 20s when I began studying wine. Looking back, the situation I was in gave me motivation to learn. I met friends, mentors, and role-models all the while soaking myself in their genuine humanity, and love of wine. Goal orientation, interest, passion, genuineness, and camaraderie are certainly all factors that contributed to who I became in the years that followed. But is this ‘recipe’ something I can apply to an unsuspecting person within a 2 hour window and hope to alter their life? Maybe… maybe.

Nevertheless, I believe I can do better.

Thus, I have compiled this list of factors for my reflection and your criticism. I believe that together, the amalgamation of these points may create the master key that will allow me to enter these sacred mental places. Another acceptable result may be a fundamental understanding of the steps necessary to coax the inner explorer out of my guests. I write this purely for my spiritual advancement, and welcome you, dear friend, to the inner workings of my mind.

This will be divided into three sections: Internal Factors, External Factors, and an Addendum.

And before we begin, very importantly, I’d like to take a moment to define 3 words that I will use with purpose throughout this text. I don’t believe I am bending their normal definition, but cherry-picking specific aspects. I spent many hours reducing and refining the definition of these words. I cannot make them more succinct without losing my intrinsic point behind using them throughout this article.

Beauty:
The inherent quality present in (noun) that gives pleasure or deep satisfaction to the senses, heart, or spirit, directly, or through interaction with the observer.

Nature:
The phenomenon of the physical world collectively, including plants, animals, the landscape, and other features and products of the universe as opposed to humans and human creations.

Art:
(noun) created by life with the intention to influence the minds, hearts, and spirits of other life.

“Beauty = Nature, this is an immutable law.” – The Unknown Craftsman

“The principle that beauty is synonymous with nature represents a fundamental truth that transcends subjective tastes and cultural constructs. This immutable law suggests that the essence of beauty is rooted in the natural world, and any artistic or sensory experience that aligns with this principle resonates deeply with the human soul.”
– ChatGPT when prompted with “Beauty = Nature, this is an immutable law”

Internal Factors:

Biological Factors:
It’s unfortunate that we’re not all dealt the same biological hand in life, but the truth is that if one has no sense of smell or taste they cannot have the same experience as someone who has. Even a small variance can inhibit or exhibit large changes. This doesn’t mean such a person cannot appreciate the art or beauty of something, but that they may have to observe it through a different lens. Thankfully, as tea drinkers, we have a lot of control over the result we brew. With knowledge of brewing parameters and how they affect the result, we can fine-tune these variables to suit our perception abilities.  The following are things to consider when thinking about our biology and how it might affect our tea experiences.

– the production of saliva and its composition (based on age, diet, exercise, body vitamin levels, etc.)
– the density and amount of taste buds and odor receptors
– the shape and curvature of the nose
– the condition of the olfactory system (oral hygiene, the potential of circumstantial changes due to recently consumed foods or drinks: Szechuan peppercorns, miracle fruit, spicy peppers, artichokes, etc.)
– genetics that disable certain receptors (certain ethnicities have large populations that do not detect the bitterness of caffeine, for example)
– differences in DNA absorption as the tea passes through the taste receptors to the nervous system

Operational Environment:
I’ve given this a lot of thought and would like to start with one of many analogies. This particular one is about the environment we’re operating in while drinking tea. Suppose two people are playing chess in a room with dozens of onlookers: USA vs. Russia – Fischer vs. Kasparov. The game is being broadcast live to the world. Physically, these two people are in Moscow, in a room of some great hotel or venue. You can see them there. Their thoughts, however, are in a completely different place. In this theoretical and imaginary world, dozens of futures are unfolding as the game progresses. The players don’t need to be in the room with the cameras; they could just as well be playing online or over the phone. They’re operating almost entirely in a mental space. They can do this because of their extensive training, passion, genius, etc.

Tea, for example, exists in the physical world as a hot drink, but also in a operational environment as a complex puzzle of aromas. If you can mentally wander through the aromatic landscape provided by tea, the sights you see deep within may become a cherished experience for you. Perhaps the simple act of seeing tea in your operational environment is satisfying enough, akin to our enjoyment of the special views from mountaintops when hiking in reality. Whatever mindset you adopt, my point is the refusal or inability to acknowledge that there is a mental environment to tea is a major hurdle for someone seeking its deeper enjoyment to overcome.

Training:
Having established the significance of the mental environment in which we experience tea, we can now explore the various methods of training and mindfulness that enhance this experience. There are several aspects to practicing mindfulness and developing intuition. A big one is the concept of harmony — us with tea, us with eachother, tea with the environment, tea with the cup, etc. Does it not make sense to drink a relaxing flavour when we want to be relaxed? Choosing to drink a tea that smells of fresh greens and flowers in Spring? or using heavy, thick, rocky, pottery for bold, crude tasting teas such as the various bancha of Japan?

There are breathing techniques such as slowing the breath, as is done in yoga. Recycling and reintroducing the aromatized air in your esophagus by retrohaling as is done in the world of whisky drinking. Deep vs. shallow breathing, from the tip of your nose to the back, filling your lungs as done in singing. The forceful sip as done in coffee, the slurp to aerate the tea within your mouth to cover your taste buds and provide temperature adjustments, and perhaps lastly, the idea of objective grading: assessing a teas positive and negative attributes and applying a score, as is just a very human endeavor. The volume of the sips, movement of tea within the mouth, and the speed at which it is swallowed. Everything matters.

In the myriads of aroma driven luxuries, aroma wheels have been created to guide newer enthusiasts as to what’s possible to expect. Aroma wheels become somewhat limiting for experienced tasters due to their finite pool of aromas, as for example: basil is not listed in this wheel, though I taste basil in many teas. Mentally sorting and refining scent associations, such as reaching the outer rim of the flavor wheel (pictured below) as opposed to being stuck in the overly simple central areas is a measure of progress. I believe that the door we seek will remain locked until the use such primitive tools like an aroma wheel have lost all relevance.

Lastly, we must touch on Elemental and Configurable Senses:
An aroma is not just a sum of its chemical parts, and our ability to comprehend an aroma comes down to how we perceive it. If two aromatic compounds are blended, one person may perceive the blend as identifiable compounds A + B while the next person may perceive it as C.

The analyzable A + B compound is referred to as an elemental odor, while the C compound is a configural odor. If you put a Caprese salad in front of someone blindfolded and asked them what it is, do you think it’s more likely they say ‘basil, tomato, mozzarella, balsamic’ which is the elemental odor or would they perceive the sum of ingredients as ‘Caprese salad’ the configural odor?

I suppose it’s safe to say our comprehension of aroma is based on training and life experience. Configural sensing seems to be our default, we live on auto-pilot, and configural sensing saves us a lot of somewhat pointless thinking. Elemental sensing is something that can be learned and is especially useful in the process of ‘reverse engineering’ aromas. Depending on whether you find enjoyment in using your brain as an analytical tool, flipping the ‘Elemental Sensing’ switch to ‘Always On’ can be a very rewarding life choice. It just takes practice, awareness, and energy. Tools like the aroma wheel can be good for helping people compartmentalize their thoughts for elemental thinking.

Once a suitable level of intuition is developed, we can carry teas natural beauty forward and transform it into art. This man-made rendition of beauty may not be the correct path, as it strays from nature, but we are man-made, and tea does not make itself. To elaborate what I mean by this is that we can apply our knowledge, biases, and architectural frameworks to beauty to shape it into art; a more concrete and easily relatable experience for our fellow humans.

One cannot be taught how to see beauty, but one can be taught how to appreciate art. When one knows how to see beauty or how to look at art, all sorts of other factors will arise and set into place to deepen their feelings. I believe this training to be fundamental.

Social Context:
A seriously big factor to our mental state is social context. Doing a task alone or even with one person can drastically affect our efficiency, even if both participants agree to be silent and not interact with each other. Body language and proximity can be incredibly distracting. If you have a group of 20 people all together, side conversations and a feeling of discord generally form. Even under otherwise nearly perfect conditions, the feeling of stress caused by the presence of others is often enough to close the doors to a beginner’s operational environment.

Familiarity may reduce social stress, and familiarity is hastened with kindness. Kindness can only manifest through the interactions between living things. Social interactions are an opportunity to be kind. If drinking tea alone does not suit your interests, perhaps through the path of kindness, the operational environment will become available for use communally.

Personal Meaning and Prior Associations:
As I said in the introduction, I like to wander my imagination, and sometimes tea helps me do that. Perhaps I’m looking for meaning when I say ‘This tea is liquid art, let me show you it!’ and then after its consumption you think ‘Hey, that was great, thanks Josh, my life became slightly better!’ I can feel like I accomplished some small goal of making the world a better place.

Someone who lived with and drank tea as a commodity beverage for the past 40 years (because that’s what their parents drank) with no thoughts or attention to it beyond a part of breakfast may have mentally committed to the notion that tea is only a drink. I suspect that for such a person, it would take a lot of work to take down the walls they have built up.

Goal Orientation:
I am an extremely goal-oriented person. I have a goal to fight with and defeat all the teas that come before me, and if successful, explore the world beyond them as a bonus stage. When finished, I tuck these teas away in my memory bank and rank them against each other, as if they’re competing in a lifelong tournament. I wonder how easily I would have naturally reached this article’s line of thought if I didn’t have this goal. I suppose I didn’t at one point, and ultimately it was imposed on me against my will. Regarding what I said in the introduction I don’t believe you can enter this special mental area by accident, and it should be the thoughtful persons goal to visit there.

While I was proofreading through this article, I had a thought about how I would receive all this information when I was 20 years old. There is a wall of information here that’s all very lofty and esoteric. Somewhere along my life I heard about the Japanese philosophy of Kaizen (改善) which focuses on continuous improvements though small changes. The idea is that by making consistent, small improvements over time, you can achieve significant and lasting results. Applying everything in this article at once might be overwhelming, but choosing to focus on a couple at a time can surely move you forward in the correct direction.

Incoming Mood:
One of the magical aspects of tea is its ability to change my mood. I am currently not a sage. My goal is not always to wander these aroma landscapes. Sometimes I do just want a hot drink, and other times I’ll be so far into the sample season that I regret my life choices and want nothing more to do with tea. That is until a good Oriental Beauty oolong comes along and I find myself enjoying the sensory adventure to a height that ten minutes prior I deemed impossible. I think mood affects many aspects of tea tasting, especially when social context is relevant, but when alone, tea is a surprisingly strong mood regulator, at least for me.

Expectations are a major contributor to one’s overall mood, they can be met with absolute bliss or crashing disappointment. Regarding controlling expectations, I don’t know what is the correct path, but I’ve had many experiences in life where my expectations caused disappointment, perhaps having fewer of them is better overall.

Cultural Predispositions:
Cultural attitudes significantly influence how ideas about tea are perceived. In some cultures, the notion of drinking tea as a refined or enjoyable hobby might be dismissed as frivolous or even negatively stereotyped, similar to how men’s ballet was viewed by working-class English families half a century ago (if I am to believe the movie of Billy Elliot was historically accurate). Cultural norms evolve, and people’s willingness to embrace new activities can depend on their identity, resolve, character, and social status.

Tea’s dual role in both the world of introverts, and as a central element in social gatherings highlights the complex cultural landscape surrounding it. While it often serves as a focal point for social interaction, the true essence of tea culture emphasizes taking a pause in our fast-paced lives. This tradition of stopping for tea—taking time to savor the moment rather than rushing through it with a paper cup—remains, along with hospitality, the crux of its cultural significance.

Tasks, Activities, Interests:
This ties together goals, personal meaning, and training. There have been many, many times I couldn’t get interested in drinking tea. I would watch YouTube while I was supposed to be focusing, letting the tea almost get cold before I even got around to drinking it. This was unfair to the tea (which we shouldn’t forget, especially in the world of specialty teas, do not spontaneously appear) and unfair to myself. Education lays such an important foundation beneath us that if it’s lazily poured, it might collapse in an unpredictable way taking years of effort along with it. Tea can be such an amazing sensory experience, but it certainly isn’t always so. I’d be willing to go on the record to say that it’s the minority of tea that is capable of being anything other than hot flavoured water.

How engaged we are with tea, thus our willingness to permit distractions, is based on external tea quality; equally weighted with general level of interest and commitment. Interest is inherently relevant to accessing the operational environment.

To summarize:
Appreciating tea deeply involves a patchwork of several controllable internal factors. Beyond biological differences from person to person, elements such as the operational environment theory, training, social context, personal meaning, goals, mood, cultural predispositions, tasks, activities, and overall interest significantly influence the experience. This journey is driven by your own heart and dedication—what you put in determines what you will get out.

But on second thought, rather than thinking that these are controllable things in yourself, it might be easier to understand that it is hard to control these elements in others. I can’t make you less anxious around me, nor force you into my mental realm when drinking phoenix oolong “The Mirage of Penglai”. They say “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.” To which I’d reply: That’s more of an external solution.

External Factors:

Tea Quality:
First of all, tea must be of suitable quality to warrant a sensory adventure. Plenty of tea is just tea and won’t escape the definition of hot flavoured water. If you don’t feel that you can agree with anything I’ve said up until this point, I believe it’s entirely possible that you have not had good tea yet. Although we’re all different, and have different preferences, I believe it should be demonstrably obvious when teas contain ‘abnormally good’, ‘exceptional’, or ‘mind boggling’ qualities. Any decent purveyor of teas should be able to introduce you to such teas in their inventory.

The live tea leaf carries a significant amount of aroma and flavor compounds that transform during processing into the many colors of the tea rainbow. These compounds are created through a myriad of factors that affect the bush during its time spent growing:

– the cultivar of tea bush (clonal vs wild, Assamica vs. Sinensis, etc.)
– composition of the soil (clay, silt, sand, amount of organic matter, etc.)
– use of fertilizer (to speed up growth is to create a less substantial tea)
– climate (average temperature, amount of rain, etc.)
– altitude (high altitude usually translates to slower-growing bushes, giving the leaves more time to accumulate minerals)
– insect damage (in the case of Oriental Beauty and some second flush Darjeeling’s)
– aspect of the land (a South facing slope will affecting the amount of sunshine a bush gets, aspect also affects drainage, etc. the amount of sunlight a bush receives will affect its bitterness, less sunlight less bitter)
– any recent pruning performed on the bush (this will cause the bush to repair itself and take energy away from leaf creation)
– age of the bush (old bushes grow slower and create teas with milder primary flavors, but more secondary, and tertiary flavors)
– the leaf picking criteria (different types of leaf have different chemical balances, older leaves generally have more compounds)
– harvesting period (early spring, late spring, summer, autumn, and winter will all contain different levels of chemicals present in the leaves

These compounds are manipulated during processing via withering, bruising, rolling, fixing (via heat), drying, and sometimes wet smothering, fermentation, sun-drying, aging, microbial activity, and roasting. Therefore, the choices made from leaf to finished product are plentiful, and the ramifications are enormous on the final quality. Tea will then (generally) deteriorate over time giving most somewhat of a ‘best before’ date depending on their storage.

The potential of volatile aromatic compounds, taste compounds, cooling or warming compounds, astringency, bitterness, tartness, pungency, texture, color are born in the tea and will be manipulated during the preparation.

Preparation:
To simply compare tea to painting, tea is paint and water is a canvas. When the two are mixed an artist appears within the solution and paints a picture. Temperature is the speed at which they paint, their motivation and perhaps their audacity. If given the same palette of colors, in the same amount, with the same canvas space, and motivation, this artist will strive to reproduce their image. They have, unfortunately, no self-control. They will paint endlessly into oblivion unless they are stopped by the tea maker – their friend and manager. If the friend has an eye for beauty and eagerness to exhibit, they can, perhaps, work together to bring masterpieces into the world. Or perhaps if the friend was apathetic, they would squander the artists potential to make the world better, and allow their friend to remain undiscovered for eternity, a travesty. Understanding how to brew tea is just as important as the quality of the tea itself. Teaching how to brew better tea is out of the scope of this document, though I would be very happy to help you with that.

All of the variables mentioned in Tea Quality play a role during the infusion of the dried tea leaves and water. What is extracted from the leaves and its resultant flavor is based on several factors:

– composition of the water (TDS, hardness, pH)
– oxygenation of the water (how long it has been boiling)
– temperature of the water (higher temperatures will pull flavors from the leaves more aggressively)
– length of time infusing (longer duration allows for more accumulation of compounds from the tea)
– concentration of infusion  (the ratio of tea leaves to water)
– the use and influence of tea ware (clay, especially porous earthenware will greatly affect the flavor of the result, various metals used for the kettles, tea pots, etc.)

Atmosphere / Architecture:
The lighting, sounds, scents, air quality, physical comfort, texture of the table, use of large bowls or small cups, the placement of nearby paintings, poems in the distance, etc. of a space, can subtly or blatantly influence the experience of its occupants. These factors affect the ease of slipping into the mental realm and our tendency to be distracted or engaged. They affect our likelihood to have esoteric thoughts, such as if an aroma may be considered gentle breeze or a rough gust. The colour of a tea bowl clashing vs accentuating a tea, might just be the narrow gap that disheartens the would-be adventurer and causes them to give up the hike due to trail difficulty. The warmth of a full cup on your hands during a cold day feels physiologically correct. All of these factors play into a subjective experience someone should be trying to build. I strongly believe that atmosphere and its design (designed atmosphere: which I will now refer to as architecture) plays a vital role in shepherding all of the internal factors to the gates which open through interest.

Juxtaposition and Contrast:
What would have more impact: using a natural and imperfect tea bowl with wabi-sabi elements in an equally imperfect (natural) setting or, using such materials in contrast to a minimalist or modernist setting to emphasize their raw nature.

I lean towards the latter, valuing the juxtaposition. My cherished Simon Manoha matcha bowl used on a rocky shore being hammered by waves feels less impactful than it does in a pure white room. Why? Perhaps because in nature, there is no pure white room. Perhaps the imagination wants to play too. It could also be that when you’re outdoors, space is not defined, and that makes us… tense.

The tea huts of old Japan, especially in Sen no Rikyu’s design, were small, cramped spaces designed to cause a certain level of anxiousness and discomfort for the attendees. The concept being in their heightened state of awareness, they will have a deeper, more profound experience. I have a whole article I wrote about these tea huts, so I won’t cover it again here, though I mention it to provide a contrasting thought to the pure bright, white room. Neither are necessarily correct or incorrect, this is architecture, and there are just as many forms as there are architects to design them.

Defining Space:
I have yet to drink tea in an undefined space where I thought the tea itself was remotely memorable, and it’s not for lack of trying. I believe defined spaces are closely linked to operational environments. The value of tea for me is inside the operational environment, not outside with the sun and plants. I have proven this to myself time and time again, so what defines a space?

Boundaries define a space, what then constitutes a boundary? Can a chalk line on the ground be a boundary? If so, could it be a shadow? Or does it have to be a wall? Perhaps of a certain height?

My gut feeling is that these boundaries cannot be suggestive. Drawing a line on the ground does not define a space effectively. Though ironically, it may do that very well in the context of a basketball court, or game of chess. A socially constructed and agreed upon line may deter someone from entering a premises, but I don’t feel the people inside a boundary would feel disconnected from the outside world within such a place. I would have to feel unseen, and not see others. This seems to really tie in with a person’s internal factor of social context.

Consider putting up walls in a forest, akin to a Japanese temporary battlement. Walls define a physically delineated space. Perhaps they don’t have to be opaque; glass could work if privacy isn’t a concern. Solid walls eliminate privacy concerns but they also obstruct views. A three-walled ‘square’ with one open side might be ideal. The Japanese term for these kinds of battlements is Jinmaku or Gunmaku. This is uncharted territory for me, though one day I’d love to try it.

Priming:
Priming is one of the most literal and forceful manipulations in my architectural approach. By setting expectations for an aroma or flavour, I can guide someone to experience my design because it aligns with their mental path of least resistance.

People can be primed by various factors: a seemingly unrelated story, the texture of a bowl, the colour of clothes, lighting, or music. Priming involves manipulating internal and external factors. The result is a sort of card-key or password to enter a target operational environment. As a technique this is beneficial as it eases the transition from the physical to the mental realm.

Example: There is a Japanese sencha, to some, it smells like seaweed, to others it smells like flowers and kiwis. You pour the tea into a cup that looks like you found it on the ocean floor, barnacles included. I suspect that the camp of people who would have previously said the tea smells like flowers and kiwis would now say seaweed. Why? They’re being heavily influenced to think so.

Physiological Sensory Adaptation:
The foods that we have recently eaten contribute a lingering effect on the taste buds and olfactory system. These are, of course, a primary and obvious concern for unbiased tea tasting, but is unbiased tasting really the way? What then of the existence of the olfactory memory and/or its manipulation? This is often overlooked. The old worlds use of incense during tea ceremony presents an argument for biased tasting, but I digress.

I feel that I know the warm, spicy smell of herbs like thyme, sage, and oregano quite well, but if too much time passes without a refresher on their nuances, I’m not 100% confident in my ability to discern them from each other by their scent memory alone.

In April 2024 I was walking around the island of Shikoku, Japan. An aroma like oregano often scented the mountainside air, though I have some level of confidence that oregano was not growing there. If I was drinking a tea that carried that type of scent around that time, I might be more prone to associate it with the Japanese mountainside; whereas months later I might revert to the European soft herbs, just because contextually I know the aroma better like that.

Perhaps the timing matters, especially in aromatic architectural design. Though I don’t know how long our brains store this kind of information on average, having had several experiences where aroma takes me back to childhood suggests that it’s perhaps not too confined.

So as a mental exercise, imagine you could control someone’s life for a week, and they don’t know it’s you. You can decide what they eat, where they go, when they sleep, etc. During this time, you could expose them to specific things, whatever you want, but as an example: they went horseback riding for the day and ate a bowl of reheated pho noodles at night.

After a week you invite them over for tea, perhaps you begin with a shou pu’erh. They may instinctively begin telling stories of their action-packed week and mention that the pu’erh reminds them of their horseback riding adventure. Perhaps if they had never gone on that trip, they would have merely said ‘this is good thanks’ but now, instead, they have made a connection. You’ve laid the groundwork for their future as tasters by taking advantage of their olfactory memory. You’re effectively done an inception level tea pairing into someone’s memory. From that day forward they may dedicate more awareness of their senses, or more confidence to share their opinion with others. I think this nurturing of appreciation is vital for all sensory industries. Awareness of the operational environment is the first step to entering it.

To an extent, this sounds like science fiction. We cannot control what people do, so what use is there to discuss it? While I cannot know what everyone has done in their lives, it doesn’t take much effort to ask questions and listen to answers. If I found out that a family of ranchers came to dinner after their daughter competed at the Calgary Stampede… Well, hey, I’ll show them pu’erh and see what happens. I bet one of the group will comment on its stable-like qualities!  

Timeframe:
Attempting to create ‘the perfect experience’ would require considering both the physiological and mental state of the participant, ensuring they’re in good health and spirits. Timing is critical. If someone has just woken up, they are likely groggy and tired, which is not ideal for an activity requiring concentration and relaxation.

Providing a specific breakfast can satiate them and set the stage for future priming. An ideal participant should be alert, satiated or slightly hungry, and not tired but awake long enough to feel ready to relax.

Imagine this scenario: a person goes through their morning routine and arrives at the shop at 11:30 am. We take a walk-through a nearby park, discussing premeditated topics relevant to my goals, followed by a carefully planned lunch with specialized ingredients to create thoughtful flavour physiological connections later. The customer then has an hour to shower and change into fresh, prepared clothes of a certain fabric and color to promote harmony. At this point, they are primed to enter the architectural world of the host. All facets of their external experience are now controlled by the architect. The customer is satiated, exercised, alert, and relaxed, wearing clothes provided by the host. This isolation from the outside world allows the architect to engage them fully, priming and guiding them through a designed operational environment until the tasting is complete. I would label such an experience as art.

To summarize:
Though there are many aspects of our customers lives that we cannot control, there are still plenty of things we can. We can build the physical architecture for their experience with lighting, walls, comfortable seating, etc. We can build the mental architecture in reference to expectations via priming, tying into their ideas of harmony using a well thought out bowl or tea pot; physiologically too! If I ask a customer to eat dill pickles the day before they visit, the fresh reference of dill in their mind may be used as part of an untold story. A realization that ‘this tea kind of smells like dill… is that why he asked me to eat dill pickles? Does it smell like dill pickles because I ate dill pickles? Inception? And we can decide when to host. Do we meet everyone at 7am in their groggy, shitty, morning state only to hear about their insufficient sleep, or do we propose to host sometime in the afternoon, hours after lunch and a short walk through a park.

I said earlier, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.
People are not horses. There are industries based off marketing, psychology, colour theory, hype, fomo, bravado, competitiveness, loneliness, ambition, enjoyment, acceptance. I’ve come to believe it’s the duty of someone who cares about others (at least in this narrow field of being a tea purveyor) that wilful ignorance of these external factors means that they’re a businessman. Blind ignorance of them means they’re still new and have a lot of thinking ahead of them. But the people who put these thoughts into action for the benefit of others are the heroes of the industry. This is a call to arms, I want to know who you are and stand by your side. Let’s explore the remaining unknowns together and find the key to the sacred place. If you have thoughts to add, I would like to add them below. Please write to josh@sommerier.com or discuss them with me in person when I have this shop open.

Addendum

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