Matcha Latte

“Write that email, send out the file, get the door fixed, send that payment…’ The train of thought went on and on. She did not even realise that she had pulled out every ingredient for a matcha latte on the kitchen counter in front of her. Pop! A whiff of matcha powder entered her nose. And suddenly, it was as if time stood still.

Forgotten was all the worry about the upcoming workday, the stress of coordinating with her friend group or the noisy cooker in the background. In that moment, it was her, in her baggy jeans, white T-shirt and sneakers, her uniform of sorts, standing in her kitchen making a matcha latte. In that moment, it was the 3 beeps of the microwave, the steaming water poured into the bowl, the matcha powder scooped into the sieve and the scratchy noise of metal against the bamboo spoon. In that moment, she moved rhythmically, the bamboo whisk cutting through the hot water, the bubbles of froth rising to the top. In that moment, it was just the clink of the ice falling into the glass, the glug of the cold, frothy oat milk being poured in.

As the drink's hue turned into a shade of green, she relaxed. The first sip of the cold, sweet matcha went straight to her brain. She saw the world clearly. The day's clutter faded to a whisper of her schedule organising itself. She was ready to take on the day. Even as the condensation from the glass dripped onto her T-shirt, she let the cool touch of it calm her down.

In that moment, she was meditating. It was her morning matcha latte.