Anyone who knows me know I’m a tea-fiend. When I’m writing, I mainline a variety of teas just to keep going. My husband and I bought ourselves an electric kettle for Christmas and then treated ourselves to a variety of loose-leaf Adagio teas. (Yes, in Lord of the Rings fan-blends… I’m a special breed of nerd.) If you want to attract a wild Kristin out in the world, coffee won’t do the trick, but waft the steam from your finest Earl Grey, and soon she’ll be eating out of your hand.
So when my birthday rolled around, my best friend gave me as a sort of birthday stocking-stuffer a copy of Little Giant Encylopedia: Tea Leaf Reading. I was thrilled. My experience with tea leaf reading extends only to reading about it with Harry Potter, and now I have a pocket guide to help me get started.
Since I’m a novice tasseomancer, just like Harry and Ron, and I’m assuming you are too, I thought we could all walk through this process together. You’ll need a cuppa tea, of course, but not just any cup: try to find a wide-bottom cup, preferably white or at least pale in color. And you’ll need loose-leaf tea—correctly brewed, of course.
Go ahead, make your cup. I’ll wait. *sips tea*
According to the book, once you have your tea you should drink it until there’s about a teaspoon left. Hold the cup in your left hand, swirl the dregs three times in a clockwise direction, and then very carefully upend the cup on a saucer to let it drain. Pick it up with your right hand (without disturbing the pattern the leaves have made), open your mind, and see what you can see.
Now, if you’re like me, you’ll make a huge mess the first time you try this. Don’t leave a teaspoon of liquid in the cup: drink until you have nothing but sludge, or you will find yourself hastily mopping up tea with a bunch of Kleenex and wind up with most of your tea leaves in the saucer.
Assuming you do in fact have some tea leaves left in your cup, rotate the image until it makes sense and you see something. Consider what you see, and think of it fairly abstractly, like finding shapes in the clouds. You’re not going to see the tea-equivalent of Da Vinci’s sketches in your cup (probably), so, erm, try to clear your third eye and look into the beyond.
It may help to do this in silence, and it will certainly NOT help if a friend asks if your reading foretells forthcoming dog poop. Excessive noise and poo-related questions may (*ahem*) block your ability to read the leaves. So give it a go, and try to concentrate.
In my case, I saw pyramids and flying birds.
The book tells me pyramids indicate “attainment to fame, honor, and wealth.” Sweet. And birds generally foreshadow happiness and joyful tidings, while a single bird flying means speedy news or emails. So I will soon be receiving good news that may lead to fame, honor, and/or wealth. Very nice!
Tea-soaked Kleenex and poop-questions aside, that’s not a bad first reading, if I do say so myself.
So, are you reading to get started reading your own leaves? Here are a few basic shapes to get you started:
Square: may indicate perplexity and dismay, or some forthcoming embarrassing situation
Circle: money, presents, an engagement, faithful friends
Flowers: good fortune, happiness, love, marriage, spending time with a large circle of friends
Initials: may indicate initials of someone you know, or a place you may visit
Book: an open book may indicate a desire for information and an inquisitive mind, while a closed book may indicate expectancy
Good luck to you, friends! I’m going to go stare at my inbox now and wait for my forthcoming wealth and fame. (That’s how wealth and fame is acquired, right? By sitting and waiting?) Cheers!