Ode to My Monday Matcha

How a simple ritual can make a big impact

*looks at photo and feels brain taking exhale*

I’m not sure how it happens, but seemingly every week this spring it’s been gray or rainy on Monday. It of course always comes after a few glorious days of sunshine that make you think summer is almost here and that life is truly wonderful. You have the best weekend soaking it up, going to the park or the brewery or the beach and basking in the warmth, feeling alive and appreciative and energized, but then Monday rolls around and the clouds roll in.

I should be used to the gray by now, given I’ve lived my whole life in the Pacific Northwest. At thirty-one, you’d think I’d be immune (or at least a little less dramatic about it), but alas, I am not. I am, I’m sure, severely vitamin D deficient and should definitely talk to my doctor about it. In the meantime, however, I’ve found an alternative solution.

What is that, you ask?

It’s matcha.

Yes, matcha, the Japanese green tea known for its vibrant color and bitter taste. The one with many the wonderful qualities like promoting brain and gut health, as well as lowering stress and the risk of heart disease. It’s a superfood, sources like AARP say, and may help prevent certain cancers and slow premature aging. It has a number of tangible health benefits, but that’s not why I’ve been leaning on it.

I’ve been reaching for it for the same reason I used to walk to the café near the downtown office of my nine-to-five, or to use a non-caffeinated example, why getting ready for the dance or the night out is always the most fun part of whole experience:

It’s the ritual.

You see, when I wake up on these rainy Monday mornings, I’m groggier than usual. My eyelids feel heavy, as if wanting to shield me from the dreariness outside. Don’t look, they say. You won’t like it. Even once I’m out of bed, it takes me a while to fully wake up – and even then I’m only a few shuffles away from zombie. I’m not a coffee drinker, so I know this grogginess has more to do with my reliance on the sun than it does with caffeine. There’s something about spotting the gray for the eighth month in a row the minute I open my eyes that is disheartening and demotivating. The clouds seem to hang lower, casting everything in a flat, shapeless light that makes every hour of the day feel the same. It’s monotonous.

But I’ve found a way to break of the monotony. How?

That’s right: matcha.

Matcha for me, or rather the ritual of making matcha, is the light at the end of the tunnel of an otherwise rather dreary day. I go through my morning trying to wake up, trying to focus, trying to feel human. It’s a struggle until I remember I haven’t made matcha. The thought of it immediately delights me. With a newfound pep in my step, I make my way to the kitchen where I gleefully gather my materials. I’m an artist setting up my workspace, my mug, my easel and my matcha powder, my paint. I set everything out on the counter and begin.

My matcha making materials (yes, I’m aware of my unhealthy obsession with alliteration 🤪)

I decide if I want it hot or cold, given the prep is slightly different for each. If hot, I need a pan and whisk. If iced, all I need is a small jar with a lid. Iced is my preferred form (even though warmer beverages are said to be better for you, according to Eastern medicine¹), I find that it cuts the bitterness more, making it more enjoyable for me. I also enjoy the act of vigorously shaking the jar to mix the powder with a bit of coconut milk to eliminate clumps. It’s easier than whisking it in a bowl or a pan, even if it’s not the traditional way and tends to evoke intrusive thoughts of Shake Weights. It gives me a chance to practice what I’ve heard yoga instructors and meditation coaches say and merely notice the thoughts arise and let them float away. This is my ritual, I am zen.

Once I’ve mixed the matcha, I measure out the rest of my milk and fill another jar with ice. The opening of the freezer immediately summons my dog, who comes to collect the tax: a frozen berry or two if making a smoothie, or in this case, an ice cube. She snatches it and crunches it at my feet, leaving shards here and there that melt into puddles for my socks to step in while I pour the matcha into the milk and then the mixture onto the ice.

The ice clinks against the jar as I pick it up, activating my own Pavlovian response. Here it is, my masterpiece in all its green glory. I take a sip and savor it. The day instantly feels a little bit brighter.

This is exactly the reaction companies like Starbucks have so brilliantly capitalized on. This beverage – this “sweet treat” as TikTok would call it – is a reward, a reprieve. It’s a break from the day. It is, perhaps, a mindset, a mood shifter (maybe even a mood stabilizer). There’s something about granting ourselves the permission to enjoy something, even just a little something like a cup of coffee or tea. Sure, depending on how sweet you take your beverages, there’s the chemical reality of our brain reacting to sugar, but I’d argue it’s more than that.

I’d argue that it’s the ritual. It’s the act of making it that makes the difference. For me, when I’m not shooing away intrusive (albeit immature) thoughts while making matcha, I’m focused. My hands are occupied by something other than my phone or my keyboard and my eyes are looking at something other than a screen. It’s tactical, tangible. I follow the same order, I use the same tools and ingredients, and there’s an inherent comfort in the familiarity of it. Though I no longer need a recipe to measure my ingredients, it’s far from a mindless activity. In fact, it’s the mindfulness of it that keeps me coming back.

It’s like when you drive back home, traveling along the same road you’ve been down countless times. You don’t need your GPS because you already know where you’re going, and without having to focus on the route, you can notice other things around you, like the rhododendrons blooming in your neighbor’s yard or the magnolia tree in another’s. You have more capacity to not only take in your surroundings, but to appreciate them.

This appreciation element is the key. Appreciation is what shifts my attention from the grim of the gray into a brighter headspace. When I think of it that way, it seems the ritual as a whole is really a practice of gratitude, a way of looking for the silver lining on the cloudiest of days.

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Author’s Note: I started this post on Monday of last week, which was a rainy day. I went to finish it yesterday (Monday of this week), but it was sunny and just didn’t feel right. Today, though Tuesday, is gray again, so you have my word that this post was drafted with authenticity. 🫡

That said, what rituals do you find yourself coming back to in your day, in your life? How do you find the silver lining in the gray?

Also, if you’re curious, below is my matcha recipe (it’s essentially what’s listed on the back of the matcha powder I use, so I say “my” here loosely). And if you have any matcha recipes you love, I’d love to try them! 🍵

Monday Matcha

Ingredients:

• 1 tsp matcha powder

• 1.5 cups milk of choice

• 1 tsp pure maple syrup (or to tase, depending on how sweet you want it)

• 1 splash of vanilla extract

Directions:

• Pour 1/4 cup milk into a small jar, microwave for 10 seconds or so to warm slightly.

• Add matcha powder, maple syrup, and vanilla extract to warmed milk. Close lid to jar and shake until there are no visible clumps (it’s ok if you think about Shake Weights, that’s normal).

• Add 1.25 cups of milk to a measuring cup and pour the jar of matcha into the milk.

• Fill a glass with ice (pay the cube tax to your pet if they come to collect it) and pour the mixture over the ice.

• Enjoy!

1. The book Change Your Schedule Change Your Life on Ayurvedic medicine (traditional Indian medicine) talks about how to structure your life according to your natural circadian rhythm and mentions warm beverages as a way to aid in digestion, detoxify, and improve circulation.