The tearoom’s brass bell chimes as Miss C slips in, her shoulders hunched under an invisible weight. At 32, she’s a graphic designer whose spark has dimmed—eyes darting, fingers fidgeting, caught in the hum of deadlines and city noise. “Something… calming,” she whispers, sinking into a chair, her voice barely rising above the clatter in her mind.
I nod, sensing the storm within her. Anxiety has wound her tight, each thought a knot she can’t unravel. From the tea cabinet, I choose Lishan GABA Tea, a high-altitude Taiwanese oolong from Lishan’s misty peaks. Its leaves, rich in natural GABA, promise a gentle hush, like a lullaby woven into their fruity-floral notes.
I warm the gaiwan, scatter the curled leaves, and pour hot water. The first infusion yields a pale jade liquor, its aroma soft, like orchard blooms after rain. “Breathe this in,” I say, passing her the cup. Her trembling hands cradle it, the steam curling like a quiet invitation. She inhales, eyes fluttering shut, but the tension lingers.
The second steep deepens, the tea’s golden hue glowing, its scent now lush with honeyed apricot and jasmine whispers. Miss C sips, and her breath catches. “It’s… like that summer night,” she murmurs, voice cracking. “I was ten, lying in the countryside grass, stars everywhere. So quiet, so… safe.” Tears well, not from sadness, but from a memory of peace she thought she’d lost.
That floral-fruity warmth, smooth as a starlit sky, unlocks a forgotten stillness. The tea’s calming GABA wraps her like a blanket, easing her racing pulse. “C,” I say, pouring a third, richer steep, “this tea grows on Lishan’s slopes, kissed by mist and silence. Its calm isn’t borrowed—it’s in its leaves, steady through storms.” Her eyes meet mine, softer now. “That quiet you felt under the stars? It’s still in you.”
She sips again, the tea’s gentle sweetness grounding her, its warmth spreading like a slow exhale. “I’ve been running from my own head,” she admits, voice steadier. “Work, noise, expectations—it’s too much.” I nod, refilling her cup. “This tea doesn’t fight the chaos; it holds space for it. Like you, it’s stronger than it seems. Let it remind you to pause, to find your own stillness.”
Miss C drinks slowly, her shoulders loosening, the city’s hum fading. “Can I take some home?” she asks, a faint smile breaking through. “To keep this… calm.” I slide a tin of Lishan GABA Tea across the table. She leaves, steps lighter, carrying a quiet she’s starting to reclaim.
Tea Notes | Lishan · GABA Tea
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Origin: High-altitude Lishan, Taiwan, wild-crafted
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Tea: GABA-rich oolong, handpicked tender leaves
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Profile: Fruity-floral with honeyed apricot and jasmine notes, smooth and calming.
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For When: Anxiety clouds your mind, and you crave inner peace.
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Brewing Tip: Steep at 195°F (90°C) for 30–60 seconds. Savor clear or pair with shortbread for a soothing afternoon tea.
Tea Therapy Whisper
Peace isn’t found; it’s remembered. A single sip can call back the stillness you’ve always carried. Dear one, when the world feels loud, let Lishan GABA Tea hold space for you. Pause, breathe, and find the quiet within.
Reader’s Tea Chat
What memory calms your busiest days? A childhood night under the stars? A quiet walk by the sea? Share your “still moment” below and let’s brew peace together.
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