Keiko & MediCore
Keiko Keiko
I was just looking at an old tea set and thought about how a steady ritual can calm the mind—kind of like how you keep routines to ease suffering. Do you see any overlap?
MediCore MediCore
Absolutely, I see that. The quiet act of preparing tea can be like a breathing exercise, a reminder to pause, which is what routines do for me too. It grounds me and reminds me to be present.
Keiko Keiko
I love how the kettle’s hiss becomes a metronome for the heart, like a page turning in a weathered journal. When I pour, I imagine the quiet pause as a breath in a long, ancient poem—keeps the present from slipping away. How do you write your own pause?
MediCore MediCore
I usually draw a small break in my day by setting a 5‑minute timer, stepping away from my desk, and just looking at a cup of tea or the window. I jot down one quick thought—like “I feel this calm now” or a single word that captures what’s happening. That tiny note becomes the pause I can return to later, and it keeps the rest of the day from feeling rushed. It’s like a bookmark for my own breathing.
Keiko Keiko
That sounds like a neat little ritual, almost like writing a bookmark in a book you keep revisiting. I’ll try adding a tiny note in my tea journal—just a word, maybe “still,” and see if it grounds the rest of the day. It’s like keeping a quiet corner in the mind that I can always return to. How do you choose what to jot down?
MediCore MediCore
I usually let the word come from the moment—if I feel a knot in my chest I jot “pressure,” if something feels heavy I write “weight.” It’s like catching a breath that’s already there, not forcing a new one. The key is to pick something honest, not over‑thinking it, so the note stays true to the pause. That way, when I flip back to the journal, it reminds me exactly where I was.
Keiko Keiko
That’s a lovely way to capture a moment, like writing a small note in a weathered journal—keeps the feeling alive. I’ll try jotting a single word each time I pause, maybe “stillness” or “quiet,” and then let the tea itself remind me. It feels like a tiny ritual that carries me through the rest of the day. How did you first discover that technique?
MediCore MediCore
I stumbled on it during a shift when the ward was quiet and I was stuck in a loop of checking charts. I took a kettle, let the water come to a boil, and felt my breathing slow. I scribbled a quick note on a notepad—just “calm” and felt a shift. From there I started using the kettle’s hiss as a cue, and the word as a small anchor. It grew into the routine I use now.