Calm, harmony and me hardly go hand in hand together. Which is why I was slightly apprehensive as I took out cup, scoop and whisk from the kitchen drawers. It was time for chanoyu, and I doubted I could do it.

It takes a lifetime to master chanoyu, which literally means water to tea, but designates the Japanese tea ceremony. A lifetime to do something that will last a few minutes. But then chanoyu is a lot more than gestures. It is a mindset, an approach to life. A triumph of humility and serenity, of intimate and quiet spirituality.

Surprisingly, the roots of today�??s tea ceremony go back to the Azuchi Momoyama era when Japan was hardly ever peaceful. Feudal lords battled for supremacy, resorting to anything from ferocious battled to hired assassins. And yet it was during this troubled time that Buddhist koji Sen no Rikyu rose to prominence as a tea master.

Rikyu replaced the contemporary fashion for expensive cups and pots with everyday tools that spoke of modesty and frugality. He spread the custom of serving tea in a simply furnished teahouse that would be pleasing to the eye but devoid of all luxury�??a single flower in a simple vase was his idea of decorating. Guests would enter through a small door, humbling themselves and leaving behind their caste, and their cares. Inside, every thought, every attention went only to tea.

In 1591, Rikyu fell foul of his master, the daimyo Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who exiled him from Kyoto. But the koji chose to commit seppuku rather than go into an undignified exile.

After his death, the tea ceremony relaxed some of the strict simplicity rules that Rikyu had espoused. However, his principles�??harmony, respect, purity and tranquillity�??survived.
�??Though many people drink tea, if you do not know the Way of Tea, tea will drink you up,�?� he said.

So I set out to learn the rudiments of the Way of Tea today. The secret to chanoyu, I read somewhere, is the elegance of movements that can only come with a relaxed mind. Well, I was as relaxed as I�??d ever be. Which is to say, not much.

Still, I took out my chawan, whisk and tea scoop, rinsed them and dried them. I placed two-thirds of a scoop of matcha into the bowl, then added two oz. steaming water. I whisked the tea then passed the bowl to my guest of honor�??myself.

Swapping places with my host-self, my guest-self admired the brilliant green of the tea, and enjoyed its grassy scent. I took a sip of frothy grassiness with just an idea of pleasant bitterness at the end.

It was lovely. But it really didn�??t matter. Nor did it matter that I was far from zen-like when I started out. Because my first lesson in the way of tea was that the pleasure with chanoyu is in the harmonious magic of simply making tea.