Dec 28, 2007
I enjoy collecting and wearing kimono for tea. I feel comfortable and wear kimono whenever I am teaching tea, in the tea room or sometimes just around the house.
When I lived in Kyoto, Japan, I lived near the district called the Nishijin. It is a famous area in the city known for fabric. Not just any fabric, but designers here, for generations, have produced the most beautiful brocade and woven fabrics used in obi and kimono.
Everyday when I would walk to class, I could hear the sounds of the jacquard looms chink-a-chink-a-chink in the homes where the fabric was woven. But I returned to Kyoto last autumn and walked through my old neighborhood for two days. I didn’t hear any looms working in the homes – not a single one.
Ladies don’t wear kimono very often in Japan any more. Just for formal occasions or when they are going to something traditional like a tea ceremony. Some Japanese women that I have taught don’t know how to put a kimono on because they have never done so by themselves. And certainly, women don’t buy wardrobes of kimono – one for every season – any more. With men it is even more rare to dress in kimono – though it seems like hakama is still worn for many martial arts.
So many of the kimono shops have closed and the shops that supplied the accessories for kimono – hair ornaments, zori shoes, fans, combs, sashes and woven cords have also gone away. I met with a seventh generation kimono designer last November. He is the last of his family to design and make kimono. When he retires, the shop will close.
Like many of Japan’s traditional crafts, the kimono is a dying art. The children of the craftsmen no longer want to carry on the business and finding apprentices is getting harder and harder. Young people no longer want to put in the long hours and the many years it takes to master a craft that has little meaning in the modern world. It is getting harder for these craftsmen to make a living practicing their craft. Though we would like to preserve it, I am afraid that soon we will see very little of kimono, obi and accessories.
Last year, The Washington Post had an excellent article, Twilight for the Kimono about the Nishijin and the the art of kimono.
Dec 26, 2007
Since ancient time in Japan, poetry has played a major role in cultural life and continues to be widely practiced today. One direct way that poetry influences chado is the Emperor’s annual poetic theme, called chokudai.
Poetic themes have been designated for poetry gatherings since the Heian period (794-1185). At the new year, it was the custom for poems from each province to be presented to the Emperor. The poems were thought to embody the spirit of each area and add to the Emperor’s spirit. In return, the Emperor’s spirit, embodied in his poem, was given to all the country.
Today, the Imperial Poetry Reading takes place in the Tokyo Imperial Palace in early January. Several poems are selected from the thousands submitted and are read or chanted in the traditional lyrical style before the Imperial family. Those whose poems have been selected are invited as guests and the Emperor’s poem is read last.
Last year the poetic theme was moon. The chokudai for 2008 is hi or fire. Why not compose a poem on new year’s day to commemorate the year? Everyone remembers writing haiku in grade school. Try to write a short fire poem with 5-7-5 syllables per line. Or try writing a poem in the classical waka style with 5-7-5-7-7 syllables per line.
Besides poems with the theme, every year craftsmen who make tea utensils use the chokudai to commemorate the year. I wonder what the new year will bring with the theme of fire? Will it mean that people will get fired up? I have a feeling that 2008 will be a very exciting and passionate one. For me, I hope so.
Dec 24, 2007
There is a scroll that is often used in the tea room: Jiki shin kore do jo. It means the pure and simple heart is the place to practice.
When studying tea, it often comes up that people do not have a tea room, there is no place to practice and they cannot study chanoyu. When I first began to study chanoyu, I measured out a four and a half mat tea room on my living room floor and used masking tape to mark the mats. I used my stovetop kettle and a ceramic cereal bowl and a carved wooden popsicle stick to practice making tea.
Chanoyu developed in Japan and originally took place in a tatami mat room, but it is a living tradition that has adapted with the times. Gengensai developed the ryurei or table style tea that can take place in any room or even out of doors. There is also chabako, a traveling tea set you can use to make tea anywhere. I have taken my chabako on hikes in the mountains, to parks, and other outdoor venues. With a thermos of hot water and a chabako, tea ceremony can be done anywhere.
The beginning tea procedure, ryakubon can be done without a tatami mat room. I have a set in my living room and have used it to make tea for guests on the coffee table with an ordinary tea kettle of hot water on a trivet. I even had a ryakubon set at the office that I used to make tea for my collegues, or even just myself when I needed to take a 15 minute break in a busy day.
The point is that you do not have to have all the utensils to practice chanoyu. Just use what you have, adapt the rest and make good tea for your guests.
Dec 20, 2007
I have been looking forward to the solstice this year, and looking back on my writing, it seems to be preoccupied with light and sun lately. It must have something to do with getting up and going to work in the dark, and coming home in the dark. With overcast skies and fog all day or drenching rain in the last week , even during the daylight hours, it seems more like twilight. When I was out walking at lunch time, I saw a patch of blue sky yesterday. But you had to be looking in the right place, and it was just for a few seconds before the grey clouds covered it up again. I tell you, I have treasured that little patch of blue. I keep remembering it, where I was standing when I saw it and grateful for that little bit of hope. No wonder pagan societies all over the world throughout history celebrated the winter solstice, calculated it, marked it, waited for it. It is the turn of the world back to the light. The natural rhythms of the seasons coming around again. So in the deep, dark days of winter, we make the turn once again to light and hope. The pendulum will swing again in the other direction and in six months we will once again be sitting in the sun.
Bless you all this holiday season.
Dec 18, 2007
The end of the year is fast approaching. The Japanese have a tradition of preparing for the new year by cleaning and settling up so that one can begin the new year with a clean slate.
One such tradition is Bonenkai (“forget the past year” parties). The idea behind Bonenkai is to hold a party where lots of food and plenty of alcohol are served, to help wash away all the unpleasantness of the past year, review accomplishments and begin the new year with a clean slate. Bonenkai are a must for every work group. There may be parties for one department, the whole company, clients, etc. Options for these parties range from snack food and drinks to lavish social gatherings on a cruise ship sailing around the Sumida River in Tokyo complete with live music and dancing. There may be parties for other groups as well, such as judo or chess clubs or former classmates.
Another tradition is O-soji (big cleaning). According to ancient belief, Toshigami (God of the Year) visits every home at New Year’s, so many preparations are devoted to being ready to receive him. These preparations include paying off debts, saying you’re sorry to mend relationships, and thoroughly cleaning the house, office, or classroom. Floors and walls are scrubbed, rooms and desks are tidied, and borrowed items are returned. School children always clean their school, but for o-soji they make a game of running across the floors pushing damp towels with their hands.
By mid-December people are busy addressing nengajo (New Year’s postcards) to send to business associates and clients as well as friends and family. They are available in a great variety of styles, like American Christmas cards. Creative or ambitious people make their own. All postcards dropped off at the Post Office by a specified date are delivered on New Year’s morning by an army of temporary workers hired for this one special day. It takes an army: four billion nengajo are sent annually. To add to the excitement, the Post Office prints cards with lottery numbers on one side and a blank side to be decorated by the sender. A lottery drawing is televised in mid-January, with thousands of prizes awarded.
Most stores close for several days at New Year’s, so in the days before refrigeration a variety of preserved foods became part of traditional New Year’s meals. The most important of these is mochi, or pounded glutinous rice. Mochi will keep for several days and is also tasty grilled. These days it is possible to buy mochi at the grocery store or to make it with an electric pounding appliance, but the very best mochi is made the old-fashioned way: hot steamy rice is put in a heavy wooden or granite usu (mortar) and pounded with a large wooden kine (pestle or mallet). Rice has been the most important crop in Japan for centuries, the key to prosperity and a full belly, and pounding rice brings out its sacred essence. The final result is a soft, smooth, and chewy dough-like glob that is pinched into small balls. It may be filled with sweet bean paste, dropped like dumplings into soup, or used in a hundred other ways (depending on the region). Mochituski (mochi pounding) is a family or community event, with people taking turns at pounding, while another person with courage and care reaches into the bowl between hits to turn the rice.
The final act of wiping the slate clean is played out at Buddhist temples all over the country, starting before midnight on December 31. In a ceremony called Joya no Kane, temple bells are rung one hundred and eight times to welcome the new year and obliterate the sins or troublesome desires of the past year. One explanation of this precise number is that, according to Buddhist teaching, there are six senses: sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, and cognition; these have three natures: good, bad, and neutral. Each of these 18 attributes has both positive and negative aspects that can exist in the past, present, or future. Thus you have 6 × 3 × 2 × 3 or 108 reasons to toll the bell. People visit the temple grounds before midnight to watch and listen, or maybe be invited to climb a ladder to take a turn striking the huge iron bell. Those who prefer a televised ceremony from the warmth of their home can watch a team of thirty monks toll the seventy-four-ton bell at the Chion-in Temple in Kyoto. At some temples, people go to get a piece of string to be lit at the temple fires to take home and light the home fires for New Year’s day. The string must be twirled all the way home to keep it lit.
Dec 11, 2007
On December 14th Gishi-sai no cha is a tea gathering to honor the memory of the 47 Ronin of Ak?.
The legend recounts the most famous case involving the samurai code of honor, Bushid?. Loyalty, control, sacrifice, persistence, and honor: in the legend, these virtues were etched forever into the soul of the Japanese people. The tale, known as Ch?shingura, is celebrated in stories, plays, books, woodblock prints, statues, movies and television.
The story begins with Asano Naganori of Ak?, a samurai lord, who was summoned to the Shogun’s palace in the city of Edo, now Tokyo. Under the watchful eye of his tutor, Lord Kira, master of palace protocol, Asano was given court responsibilities. Friction between the two men was constant. Asano refused to pay the bribes that Kira demanded for his services. Kira used every opportunity to publicly humiliate Asano. After two months of abuse, Asano’s tolerance was gone. He drew his sword against Kira within the palace walls – a grievous offense – and attempted but failed to kill him. The punishment for this was inflexible: Asano was ordered to commit seppuku, a ritual act of suicide.
Upon his death, Asano’s estate was confiscated, his family was disinherited, and his 321 samurai retainers were ordered to disband, thus becoming ronin or masterless warriors. Many of them, in a secret blood oath, swore to avenge their Lord’s disgrace and restore his rightful honor. Headed by their general Oishi, they undertook nearly two years of great self-sacrifice and carefully conceived ruses to disguise their real purpose. Oishi himself moved to Kyoto, where he became an infamous drunk and gambler, all to deceive the Shogun’s police and Kira’s many spies.
The ruses worked. Kira and his allies finally relaxed their suspicions of Oishi and his men. On a winter night, December 14th, 1702, 47 of the Ronin met in Edo. They marched to Kira’s mansion, announcing themselves to those inside with Oishi’s beating of the Asano war drum. In the great battle that followed, the 47 stormed Kira’s mansion and attacked Kira’s 61 armed guards. In the course of a 1 ½ hour battle, they were able to subdue or kill all of Kira’s men without any fatalities of their own. Finding Kira, the brought him to a courtyard and offered him the chance to honorably commit seppuku. Kira was not able to commit seppuku, so the 47 Ronin beheaded him and a whistle signaled that he was dead. Then to symbolize the completion of their mission, the 47 Ronin returned to Asano’s grave at Sengaku-ji Temple and set the head of Kira before it, declaring their Lord’s honor redeemed.
Prepared to die for this deed, the 47 Ronin proclaimed what they had done to the Shogun’s court authorities. The Shogun himself, though sympathetic to their heroic act, was nonetheless on the horns of a dilemma. To pardon them would be to condone future vendettas. After 47 days of deliberation, the decision was made that each of the 47 was ordered to honorably commit seppuku, instead of being executed as criminals.
On February 4, 1703, each of the Asano warriors committed seppuku, dignifying themselves in their valiant sacrifice. Upon their deaths, these loyal 47 men were buried side-by-side with their master at Sengaku-ji Temple.
The clothes and arms they wore are still preserved in the temple to this day, along with the drum and whistle; the armor was all home-made, as they had not wanted to arouse suspicion by purchasing any. The tombs became a place of great veneration, and people flocked there to pray. The smoke of incense offered by sincere worshippers has been ascending there for 304 years.
Dec 8, 2007
Keiko to wa ichi yori narai ju o shiri ju yori kaeru moto no sono ichi.
Rikyu’s wrote one hundred poems on the way of tea, and this one is translated as:
In tea practice, you learn from one to ten. When you reach ten you return to the original one.
Because chanoyu is wide – it covers many, many things, and deep – it can be a profound spiritual path, there are always things to learn. This poem reminds us too, that no matter how far we think we have progressed, we return to the original one again. That is, the lessons we thought we learned in the beginning of study we go back and re-learn again. This has been so true in my own study. After 15 years of study, I went to Japan where I started from the very beginning to learn how to walk and sit in the tea room. I learned how to bow the correct way again, and I learned again to clean. Even in the most advanced tea workshops with high ranking teachers and students, every seminar begins with warigeko – the basics.
But it was not just these physical things that I re-learned again. The lessons that I first learned in chanoyu about humility, thinking of others and doing things the right way came back to me in the first months of intensive study in Japan.
After many years of study, I thought that I pretty much knew a lot about chanoyu and I was one of the more advanced students of my sensei. But in Japan, I was little more than a tadpole just out of the egg. I quickly had to re-learn these lessons again and again.
Each time we return to the beginning, it is really not the beginning again. It is the same lessons presented so that I can take it in at a deeper level and so enrich my understanding of myself and how I interact with the world.
Dec 3, 2007
Learning the Japanese words during tea class is not necessary, but it does help with the discipline of learning something new. At the request of my current students here is the basic Japanese for receiving tea properly in the tea room:
Opening salutation (aisatsu), entire class:
“Ohayo gozaimasu [morning] (OR “Konnichi wa [daytime],” “Konban wa [evening]”) Okeiko yoroshiku onegai itashimasu.” (Teacher, please instruct us)
Closing salutation (aisatsu), entire class:
“Sensei, okeiko domo arigato gozaimashita.” (Thank you for the lesson)
To the host, after being invited to be the guest:
“Yoroshiku onegai itashimasu.”
To the teacher before being invited to be the guest by the host:
“Sensei, okyaku okeiko yoroshiku onegai itashimasu.” (Please do me the favor–i.e. of instructing me)
When the host invites you to take your sweet:
“[Okashi] chodai itashimasu.” (I will partake of this sweet)
When you bring the bowl back to your place:
If there is a guest to your right (who has already drunk tea):
“Oshoban itashimasu.” (May I join you?)
If there is a guest to your left:
“Osakini.” (Excuse me for going first)
To the host:
“Otemae chodai itashimasu.” (I will partake of your temae– i.e., the tea and its preparation)
To stop the host from making more tea (spoken as the host empties the rinse water into the kensui):
“Oshimai kudasai.” (Please conclude)
Nov 28, 2007
I was sitting in the tearoom the other day listening to the rain on the roof. The tea room is like a sensory deprivation chamber in that it is bare of decoration or furniture. It is quiet and often dimly lighted. The walls are a muted color and the tatami mats straw colored with black borders. Because of this austere setting, anything that happens is highlighted and perhaps magified in importance.
Like the rain on the roof. In the Pacific Northwest, it rains a lot. The weather forecasters have many ways to describe it: rain, heavy rain, rain then clearing, intermittent rain, chance of rain, rain likely, light rain, showers, drizzle, misty…
If you pay attention, there are many sounds of the rain. From the heavy, slow drip of large drops after a sudden shower to the quick patter of a cloud burst.
If you keep your ear tuned to the sounds of the tea room, you will find so many other sounds that you never heard before. Like the way the kettle sounds as it heats the water. Every kettle has its own song. As the water heats, it begins to sing and mummer. You know the water is at the right temperature for making tea when the kettle sounds like “the wind in the pines.”
Another sound you might notice the next time you are at a tea ceremony is the sound of the water as it is poured into the bowl. Hot water sounds completely different than cold water. No matter which bowl it is, the sound is different. Can you hear it?
The soft shuffling of the host as he enters and leaves the tea room, the whisk as it froths the tea, even the plunk of the water ladle as it is put on the stand. Listen, can you hear it?
Nov 21, 2007
A long time ago there lived a Tea Master. He was an elderly, small and frail man. He was known throughout the countryside where he lived for his beautiful Tea Ceremony. His work was so good that one day the Emperor heard about him and summoned him to the Palace to perform this special ceremony.
The quiet, little Tea Master received this invitation from the Emperor. He packed his belongings, placed them on his back and started on a long journey by foot to the Palace.
After many long days the little man arrived and performed the ceremony for the Emperor. The Emperor was so impressed! He presented the Tea Master with the highest honor that he was allowed. He presented him with the two Japanese swords of the Samurai.
The Tea Master accepted the swords. He bowed to the emperor, placed the swords on his back, picked up his belongings and started his journey home.
Two days later the little man was walking through a small country village when he was spotted by the Samurai that protected that area. He was a great and powerful Samurai. At first the Samurai could not believe his eyes. Where those swords? What was this little frail man doing with them?!
The Samurai confronted the little man. “How dare you make a mockery of all Samurai! I can not stand for this dishonor. “
The Samurai challenged the Tea Ceremony master to a duel to the death with swords, and said: “Meet me here today at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and we shall fight.”
Honor would not permit the Tea Ceremony master to refuse the challenge, so he had to agree. But he was frightened, and went to his own teacher of Tea Ceremony, to ask him what to do. “I have never held a sword in my hand in my life,” he said. “He will surely kill me”.
The older Tea Ceremony master replied with a calm smile. “Do not worry,” he said. “Go meet him at the appointed time, and do what you know how to do. Perform the Tea Ceremony.”
At four o’clock, the Samurai arrived with swords. But the Tea Ceremony master arrived with charcoal, matches, a tea kettle, water, cups, and began to prepare the tea.
The Tea Master opened his tea container and the pungent smell of the green tea mingled with the fragrance of the flowers. Quietly and purposefully, the tea master scooped a small amount of green tea into a cup. With the ladle he dipped hot water from the kettle and poured it onto the tea. The Samurai watched, caught up in the quiet intensity of the tea master’s movements. Taking the whisk, the tea master applied it vigorously until the tea foamed. Then bowing with complete calmness, the tea master handed the cup to the Samurai.
The Samurai sipped the tea properly. When he finished, he said to the Tea Master: “I am defeated. You have united body and soul so perfectly, you defeated me. The only thing I can honorably do to a man like you is ask you to teach me. Will you instruct me in the ways of the tea ceremony?”
“Of course,” said the Tea Master. “Meet me at sunset tomorrow.”
Nov 20, 2007
Kansha is a part of the etiquette for receiving tea and sweets. Before taking sweets, the tray or bowl is lifted slightly from the floor as the head is bowed in silent thanks. Then the guest can take out his pack of papers and take a sweet.
Just as before the guest drinks from the tea bowl, it is lifted slightly in the hands as the head is bowed again in silent thanks. This is gratitude not just to the host for making the tea, but for everyone and everything that made it possible to drink the tea here and now.
This small gesture, kansha reminds us to be thankful not just for the immediate right now, but for all the things that have allowed us to be here with what we have today. When we are about to eat and drink, kansha. When we are about to start something, a small bow as kansha, gratitude that allows to embark on what we are about to do. Yes, that includes housecleaning. Kansha.
Nov 19, 2007
Throughout the ceremony, the hosts and guests both aspire towards a sense of tranquility. The priest Takuan wrote of preparing for a tea ceremony and said, “and let this all be carried out in accordance with the idea that in this room we can enjoy the streams and rocks as we do the rivers and mountains in Nature, and appreciate the various moods and sentiments suggested by the snow, the moon, and the trees and flowers, as they go through the transformation of seasons, appearing and disappearing, blooming and withering. As visitors are greeted here with due reverence, we listen quietly to the boiling water in the kettle, which sounds like a breeze passing through the pine needles, and become oblivious of all worldly woes and worries…”
The Portland Japanese Garden just concluded an exhibition of kimono from the collection of Susan Kastner. As part of the program, there were two special events: a kimono dressing workshop and a lecture on kimono depicted in woodblock prints. (There is an exhibition of the kimono woodblock prints opening at the Portland Art Museum, too).
The kimono in the exhibition were exquisite and showed the wide range of decoration from finely painted scenery to elaborate embroidery to painstaking tie dye. The language of kimono is many layered. Through the theme of kimono through the four seasons you could see not just the obvious symbols of the seasons – snow for winter, colored leaves for fall, flowers for spring and water for summer, but also the literary references to the stories in Noh plays, or puns and witticisms, for example. There were other not so obvious references in the kimono on exhibit such as the length of the sleeves to show the age of the wearer, the summer weight of the cloth and even the differences for a geisha kimono.
For tea ceremony, kimono is more subdued than those on exhibit. Appropriate colors are not as bright and the sleeves are shorter than the kimono shown. The most formal kimono for tea is iro muji, or one color kimono with no decoration. Though there is no applied or painted decoration, the richness of the kimono is apparent in the weight of the silk and weave. Sometimes there will be patterns woven into the fabric like damsak: waves, flowers, pine trees or motifs. The obi for tea can be elaborate and colorful.
The kimono is a garment that is wrapped and tied with lengths of cloth (called himo), there are no fasteners. Thus, every time you put on a kimono it is custom fitted. Though it looks like a kimono is one-size-fits-all, there are crucial measurements to fit a kimono and then can be adjusted precisely to the wearer.
The first time I dressed myself in kimono, it took me about three and a half hours. It was mostly because I didn’t know what I was doing.But with much practice (I wore kimono everyday when I lived in Japan) and a few tricks taught to me by teachers and senior students, have made it easier. Most days I can dress in about 15 minutes.If I am going to a formal event, I take my time and can do it in about 25 minutes.
Dressing in kimono for men is a little simpler than for women. The obi is tied in a simple style and usually there are a limited range of colors: dark blue, brown, grey and black. On formal occasions, men wear hakama, a wide divided skirt-like garment worn over the lower half of the kimono. There is a specific way to tie the hakama to make it look formal and keep it secure.
Some martial arts still wear the hakama for training and formal occasions. If you think that men in skirts look funny, you probably haven’t seen a man in full formal kimono and hakama. They look so gorgeous and manly, just like the samurai.
Nov 16, 2007
I just had my new neighbor over last night for an oolong tea tasting. It was relaxing and stimulating at the same time. She wanted to know more about how to brew loose leaf tea. I am not an expert, but I did get my cute little yixing tea pot out and small sipping cups to taste the four different kinds of tea I had chosen: Wen Shan Bao Zhong, Jin Xuan High Mountain, Rou Gui, and Bai Hao Oriental Beauty.
I started out warming the teapot, the sharing pitcher and the cups. While that was happening we talked about how green tea, oolong tea and black tea all comes from the same plant, but the processing being different.
I brewed each type of oolong tea three times, and we both remarked on how the flavor of the tea changed with each infusion. After three infusions of each tea, I asked her what her favorite tea was. After the Wen Shan Bao Zhong, she said it would be hard to top that one. After the Jin Xuan she said that it was her favorite. The Rou Gui I brewed in a Chinese Porcelain gaiwan and she said that liked that one the best and after the Bai Hao Oriental Beauty she said that it was the most layered and complex, and her favorite only because it was the last one that she tasted.
It was like a wine tasting as we discussed each tea and its aromas, flavors and memories that it triggered. One was like smelling flowers, another like eating flowers, another like walking in the woods after a rain. One tasted like apricots, another was spicy that made her tongue dance.
Oolong is not just Chinese restaurant tea. I encourage you to try brewing your own oolong leaf teas. It’s an adventure in tastes.
Nov 15, 2007
I have a new class of students this term. I always ask them at the beginning of the term what they think that they will be learning for the next 10 weeks. It was interesting that in this group of students more than one wrote that they wanted to learn and even expected to learn the etiquette of tea ceremony so that when they went to a tea ceremony they would know what to do and wouldn’t offend anyone.
There are many rules to follow in Chanoyu, whether you are the host or the guests. The elaborate ritual of etiquette that is followed in the ritual may seem confusing or unnecessary to modern sensibilities. And yet, there is something about knowing what to do and when to do the right thing. When everyone knows what the rules are, they are not just empty gestures that have no meaning. They become a way to strengthen bonds and renew relationships. It fosters a sense of belonging and brings harmony to individuals so that they begin to function as a group.
In the beginning, when we are learning the etiquette of chanoyu, it may seem insincere to express gratitude at certain specific times. But the form and the etiquette teaches us what is expected and the appropriate way to express it.
Nov 12, 2007
One of the most difficult things about chado is sitting seiza for long periods of time. I have written about my struggles with sitting on my knees and suffering with the cramps, the pain and the numbness that comes from sitting seiza. Often, it is the moving after sitting that is more painful as the circulation brings back the familiar sensation of needles to the feet and ankles. One must be very careful getting up after sitting if the feet are completely numb. It is dangerous and I have seen people break ankles and not know it because there was absolutely no feeling in the legs below the knee from sitting seiza. As I am getting older, too, the stiffness is getting worse in my joints and I cannot move as easily as I could when I was younger.
I tell my students that want to sit for longer periods of time, that one must sit every day. Even if it is just for a few minutes watching TV, working up to longer and longer periods of time. There are also subtle ways of wiggling toes and ankles to keep the circulation going so that they don’t fall asleep. Correct posture helps, and also it has become a little easier as I have lost 10-15 pounds recently. There are also sitting stools, seats, cushions and benches that take the pressure off the ankles and allow sitting for longer periods.
I remember how one of my sensei told a student to practice sitting seiza in the bath tub. He tried it and found it extremely painful to sit on the porcelain of the tub. He just figured that by comparison, sitting on tatami was softer than porcelain. When he told her that now he was grateful for the suggestion to sit in the tub, because now sitting on tatami, though still uncomfortable for him, it was better than on the cold porcelain of the bathtub. She had forgot to tell him to fill the tub with hot water. That it would loosen his muscles and joints, and the water would buoy up some of his weight.
I sit seiza when I do zazen, or sitting meditation, rather than in the cross legged or half lotus position. First of all you cannot sit in cross legged position in kimono, and I can now sit for longer periods of time in seiza than I can in most other positions.
The point of all this? I think that training my body to sit seiza is training to endure being uncomfortable. I am so addicted to comfort that most of the time I will go out of my way or do most anything to avoid being uncomfortable. Sitting seiza is a reminder to me that being uncomfortable is not fatal to my existence, and may even bring about some kind of realization. By avoiding discomfort, what kind of decisions am I making that I also avoid experiencing life to the fullest? I find that I can be uncomfortable and still be aware and present to what is going on around me. I find that I can still be uncomfortable and still carry on with what I am doing. That I can no longer use discomfort as an excuse not to do something that needs to be done.
You can get my specially designed portable meditation seat to help you sit seiza for longer periods of time at www.SweetPersimmon.com.
Nov 5, 2007
Every time, I step into the tea room, I have an opportunity to face myself. I love the way of tea and I want to do so well at it. The procedures for making and serving tea challenge my wandering mind to pay attention. It seems that every time I make tea, I often make some mistake and I have to figure out how I can recover from that mistake and go on. I try to keep in mind the principles of harmony, respect, purity and tranquility and manifest them with my guests, while at the same time, ensuring that my guests feel comfortable and know what is going on. What if I don’t get along with someone else who is in the tea room? What if I notice that someone is not doing something strictly correct? How do I keep myself from showing off how much I know and correcting others? How much do I conform to what everyone else is doing for the sake of harmony? Nobody can make these decisions for me. Only I can choose how to respond to how I am feeling and what is going on in the tea room.
I recently started with a new class of tea students. Often as we go through the introductory class, there are the same questions that others have asked before, but always there are new questions and challenges that are unique to these particular students because everyone brings themselves into the tea room. When you bring yourself to the tea room, inevitably you have to face yourself. As Buck Rogers said, “No matter where you go, there you are.”
Sep 28, 2007
In chanoyu, the scroll sets the theme for the tea gathering. It is displayed in the tokonoma, or alcove and is probably the most important utensil in the tea room. By convention, the scroll for a tea gathering is a single line of kanji characters and is usually a fragment of a poem, Zen phrase or part of a Zen phrase written by a Zen priest. A common scroll for a tea gathering is “Nichi, nichi, kore kojitsu,” or “Hibi kore ko nichi” Literally translated it means – everyday is a good day.
When this scroll is hung in the tea room alcove, (tokonoma) it reminds us that the day is not good or bad. It is just a day. Our attitude is what changes the day into either good or bad.
It is like the story of the farmer who had a horse and his neighbors said he was very lucky, but one day the horse ran away. And the neighbors remarked how unlucky he was. But the horse came back with two others and they said he was lucky again. Then his son fell off the horse and broke his arm while riding it and they said he was unlucky. But when the daimyo came to draft men for his army, the son wasn’t chosen and they said he was lucky again.
It all depends on your attitude to the day. Every day can be a good day or everyday can be a bad day. What kind of day is today?
Sep 26, 2007
Temae is what we call the procedure for making tea. Literally, temae, is translated as “the point in front.” In other words, do what is front of you – whatever is next in the procedure.
There are many, many ways to make tea – many temae. All of the procedures are quite specific in where to put things and the order in which to do it, how to walk in, where to sit, when and where to turn. The procedures can get quite complicated, with the more advanced procedures taking up to two hours. These procedures must be memorized. No notes are allowed in the tearoom. With all of the temae to be memorized, it can be confusing, but starting at the beginning we build a foundation of body memory. Each successive temae learned builds on the previous one with a few new specific points. Our bodies remember these procedures the more often we do it.
It is said that after doing something 30 times is when our bodies can remember. It is when we overthink what we are doing that we can become confused. I see this in my intermediate students, where the body will naturally begin a movement, the head begins to think, “oh no not that way” and there is a hesitation and then the student will freeze, not knowing whether to trust the mind or the body.
At first, in the tea room, every movement seems awkward, and we have to think very hard about what comes next in the order of making tea. But as the body learns how to move in the tea room, as it learns and memorizes the procedures, we can begin to trust our body and move to a higher level of temae. This higher level is where the mind can concentrate on the guests and what else is going on in the tea room. Sensei would test us by asking us questions while we were making tea. To be able to talk and continue to make tea, we have to trust our bodies to continue with temae while our brain was answering her questions at the same time without getting confused.
Sep 25, 2007
Cultivate the attitude of gratitude.
We are so lucky to be here living this extraordinary life, with all its comforts and luxuries. Compared to many, we have little to complain about, yet I do find myself complaining about my life. Cultivating this feeling of thankfulness helps to put my life in perspective.
There is a point in the ritual of Chanoyu where the tea bowl is lifted in silent thanks – kansha. This is not just to thank the host for making the tea, but also for all the preparation he has done. It is also to thank all those who came before us in our study, and to thank the growers of the tea and all who had a hand to make this moment possible.
Before my mom passed away, she asked me to keep a gratitude diary. Every night before I went to bed, I would write a list of the things that I was thankful for. Some nights I had to think really hard about what it was I was thankful for because I had a bad day at work or car troubles. Somedays at first, I wrote that was just thankful to just go to bed to get this day over with. As I wrote more and more in my gratitude diary, my lists became longer and I was really grateful for my life, my health, my family, my job, and many little things. It began to change my perspective and during the day I would mentally note some little things that I could write in m diary. A glass of ice cold water, a clean corner of my desk, the ability to call my husband and tell him I love him, driving home a new way.
If we look hard enough there are many, many things in our life that we can be grateful for. Why not change perspective by cultivating the attitude of gratitude?
Sep 21, 2007
The aesthetic of wabi permeates and defines beauty for the Japanese culture. It is the ideal of Chanoyu yet wabi often is difficult to define and usually is reduced to simple and rustic. I would like to explore a little more about the origins of wabi, and its relationship with tea. As the Japanese aesthetic of beauty, wabi is a concept that is difficult to explain and deep in meaning.
It has its origins in the verb wabiru. The original meaning of wabiru is to be disappointed by failing in some enterprise or living a miserable and poverty stricken life. According to the Zen-cha Roku, wabi means lacking things, having things run entirely contrary to our desires, being frustrated in our wishes. It goes on to say that to feel what is lacking is deprivation, or to believe that not being provided for is poverty is NOT wabi but rather the spirit of a pauper. Wabi means to transform material insufficiency so that one discovers in it a world of spiritual freedom. Although the beauty of wabi is not simply a beauty of mere poverty, unpretentiousness or simplicity, there are times when that is what it may seem to be.
Three aspects of wabi:
• Simple, unpretentious beauty
• Imperfect, irregular beauty
• Austere, stark beauty
The simple, unpretentious beauty is certainly one of the most obvious features of the wabi aesthetic, but it should not be confused with empty simplicity, or misshapen features with imperfect or irregular beauty. Wabi is a kind of beauty which stores a nobility, richness of spirit and purity within what may appear to be a rough exterior. There is a restraint that does not call attention to itself, yet attention to the smallest detail has been lavished on what cannot be seen.
An example of imperfect, irregular beauty we can see in the many famous tea utensils that have somehow been damaged and lovingly repaired. There is a well known bamboo flower vase made by Rikyu called Onj?ji and it is prized because it is cracked, or the tea bowl named Seppo made by Koetsu that is admired because is has been repaired.
The austere, stark beauty of wabi comes from the tradition of renga poetry, a form of group composition of linked verse and from the Noh theater. The poets called it a cold and withered beauty and Zeami of the Noh called it an austere and serene beauty. This is the beauty of age and experience that can only be attained through a master’s accomplishment. It is a paring away of externals, until only the essence is left.
Two poems often cited by tea masters to explain wabi:
nor scarlet leaves
a bayside reed hovel
an the autumn dusk
~Fujiwara no Teika
To those who wait
only for flowers
show them a sprig
of grass under the snow
in a mountain village
~Fujiwara no Ietaka
Sep 20, 2007
I’ve had a request for a list of books on tea ceremony and I’d like to name a few in order of increasing difficulty:
Tea Here Now by Donna Fellman and Lhasha Tizer
ISBN: 1930722575 Paperback
Tea Here Now demonstrates how tea and the simple act of preparing a cup of tea can give drinkers a taste of enlightenment. Written for the average person who wishes to infuse accessible, uncomplicated spirituality and mindfulness into his or her tea drinking, the book explores the health benefits, spiritual practices, and lifestyle-enhancing properties associated with the world’s major blends, in the process creating a practical guidebook for the “tea lifestyle.”
Tea Life, Tea Mind by Soshitsu Sen
ASIN: 0834801426 Paperback
A Japanese tea master discusses his art, and throws in a few anecdotes of his own life and stories about famous tea masters from the past. Overall, this is a wonderful introduction to the spirit behind the tea ceremony, which as just as important as the particulars of the process itself. The author’s warmth and sincere goodwill come through nicely in this slim, peaceful volume.
The Book of Tea by Okakuro Kakuzo ISBN: 0804832196 Hardcover
On the surface, this is a book about history – the history of tea, and art, and religion. But this is really a book about so much more – it compares the culture and way of thinking of the East and West, the past and the present. It makes the reader think about and reassess what is important in life, what is really beautiful, what is worth keeping or fighting for. What is dignity. This essay, which wends its way between the discovery of tea, flower arranging, architecture and Taoism along with other enticing subjects, is truly an enlightening and thrilling book, in a quiet and gentle way. Whether you are interested in East Asian culture, Tea, or would just like a compass to help you re-orientate your priorities, you will probably gain something from this ode to the importance and influence of Tea.
Wind in the Pines, Classic Writings of the Way of Tea as a Buddhist Path compiled and edited by Dennis Hirota
ISBN: 0875730736 Hardcover
This may be the definitive text on Chanoyu, comparable in importance to Okakura’s Book of Tea. Hirota penetrates the Buddhist essence of Tea and understands its authentic origins. Essential for any serious Tea practitioner. It is not a simple history or manual, but a mature and sophisticated reflection on the true nature of Tea as a Way and a practice. Wind in the Pines is a inspiration and also an invitation to penetrate the relationship of Tea to the other Buddhist arts, including renga and haiku and flower arranging (ikebana) and is the product of the deepest appreciation, insight, knowledge and scholarship
Sep 19, 2007
Your mom probably told you to do this as a kid. As an adult and a tea student, we know that we cannot depend on anyone else to clean up our messes. My sensei used to say that 80% of tea is cleaning. We clean before and after using the tea room. We clean when changing seasons, we clean as moving meditation.
The preparation room (the mizuya) is supposed to be as clean as or cleaner than the tea room. During class time, all students at my tea school are required to prepare and clean up the utensils that they use for class. I teach preparation and cleaning up and what to do in the mizuya as part of learning the art of tea.
There is a person in charge of the mizuya called the cho. The cho is there to make sure everything is handled properly and to be responsible for everything that goes on in the mizuya. The cho is not there to clean up after anyone else, but if a student doesn’t clean up their utensils then the cho has to do it. Since every student has a chance to be the cho, there is incentive not to make work for anyone else.
But cleaning up your own mess pertains to life as well. It is personal responsibility. And it is not just the physical mess you make that you need to clean up, but your financial, or social or relationship mess as well.
Sep 17, 2007
Don’t expect, just adjust.
I had a sensei who said that disappointments came from expectations. That in order to stop being disappointed one had to let go of expectations and adjust to whatever was happening at the time.
This came home to me when I was planning for a big tea gathering. I expected that the gathering would go off perfectly because I had meticulously planned every detail to the last minute. What I hadn’t planned for, nor could I have was the interaction of the guests, helpers and other things to go wrong.
Right away, I didn’t get any RSVPs for my tea gathering invitations, so I didn’t know who was or was not coming. On the day of the gathering, two out of town guests came an hour early and another guest came 20 minutes late. This threw my whole timing for cooking the meal off. Two of the guests who were best friends had quarreled with each other a couple of days before and now refused to sit next to each other. One of my helpers was supposed to bring sweets, but she and I had a misunderstanding and she thought I was going to take care of it, even though I had communicated with her in writing 3 times and called the day before.
This tea gathering had the potential to turn into a complete disaster on many levels. But as each thing came up, my concentration was to solve the problem and move forward. Just make food for everyone who was invited. I gave the out of town guests some incense games to play while they awaited the other guests as I finished preparations. We started the gathering on time and slipped in the last guest just before serving the meal. And I used some other sweets that I had on hand.
We didn’t follow my elaborate timing or plans, but all the guests had a wonderful time and commented on my thoughtfulness after the gathering. It was one of the best tea gatherings I had hosted and I learned so much about letting go of expectations.
Sep 15, 2007
I am good at cleaning. I didn’t used to be. Before I studied chado, I was a slob. My room was a mess, my desk at work was a mess, in fact my life was a mess. One of the first things I learned in tea was how to clean.
So I cleaned. I was often the first to keiko and it was my job to clean the tatami before class. I cleaned the tea room, then I cleaned the preparation room (mizuya). Then I stayed after class and cleaned the tea room, put utensils away and cleaned the mizuya. When I studied in Japan, one of my jobs was to clean the 100 tatami mat room. That means being on hands and knees and wiping each mat (3 ft by 6 ft) by hand, all 100 of them, every night after class.
While I was living in Japan, I stayed in a small Japanese room that was my living room, bedroom, study and dressing room. My actual living space became smaller and smaller as I acquired things. Keeping my space clean was necessary to be able to breathe in my small room.
As my sensei said to me, chado is 80% cleaning. One of the principles of tea is purity. There is nothing more calming than cleaning. When you are cleaning, you can see what you have done and what you need to do. Cleaning is good therapy. It also is good for clearing your mind and soothing your emotions. And when you are finished, having a tidy space feels good.
Sep 13, 2007
the nature of chanoyu
say it’s the sound
of windblown pines
in a black and white painting
~Sen Sotan, 3rd generation Urasenke (1578-1658)
There is a saying in tea that everything is important and nothing really matters. It is one of those tea koans. In Chado, everything is important. That means everything requires our awareness and attention. Nothing is trivial. Every movement is deliberate, everything is thought about ahead of time. Nothing is below you, no matter how advanced you get. Cleaning the toilet is exclusively the host’s job, he can’t palm it off to someone else because it is important.
Some people would call this mindfulness. When folding your fukusa after your lesson, pay attention to what you are doing. Don’t just throw down you fukusa (purification cloth) in the kitchen. Sit down and fold it properly, then go out and say goodbye to your guests. When picking up and putting down utensils, use two hands. Sit down first, then open the door.
This doesn’t mean that every move is made as if it was filled with portentous significance. Nothing really matters. It just means that you are aware and are paying attention to what you are doing. Even if you are making a mistake, do it with awareness and attention.
Sep 10, 2007
While the guests at a chaji or tea gathering are appreciative of everything that the host has done, there is a part of the gathering that is set aside specifically for the appreciation of the tea utensils called haiken. During this time, the guests get to examine closely the utensils and the main guest will ask the host about them.
At first I was not sure exactly what it was the guests were looking at when the tea bowl or the tea container and bamboo tea scoop were passed around. I watched as the guests viewed each item and even turned the teabowl over to look at the foot. I thought, how rude to look underneath at the bottom of the bowl. There were murmurs and sounds of approval as they were passed down the line. All I could see was a brown bowl, slightly out of round with a drippy glaze that surely a third grade child could have made. The tea scoop was just a simple strip of bamboo with a slight bend at the end. Why were these guests making such a big deal over these not very impressive implements?
As I learned more about chado and tea utensils, I began to learn about how to appreciate these things. Looking closer at tea utensils, I began to see the beauty in ceramics as they turned from carmel to umber in the drip of the glaze. I realized that slightly out of round felt very comfortable as if it was meant to fit my hand. That strength of the brush line in a calligraphy character said so much about the calligrapher and his state of mind at the time he made it. It taught me to see the beauty in everday things. It taught me not to make judgements right away, to let things settle. The more I looked at things during haiken, the more I was moved by the beauty of spirit in them. But I had to slow down and take time to appreciate it, to look deeper than the surface of the first glance.
And this can apply not only to things, but to people as well. How many times have I made judgments about people that when I took the time to get to know them turned me completely around? I need to slow down, take time and look deeper than the surface in order to appreciate people and things in my life.
Sep 6, 2007
The thought of the host is the the thought of the guest. The thought of the guest is the thought of the host.
As part of the creed, these are words that we have repeated over and over before and after keiko. Thinking of others, putting oneself in the other’s place is what creates the chanoyu experience. For the host’s part, giving those with whom you find yourself every consideration. For the guest’s part, giving those with whom you find yourself every consideration goes as well.
When I first began chado, my sensei would not let me make tea for months. I thought that was what tea was all about. I wanted to make tea, put on tea parties and serve tea. But I first had to learn the guest part. The guests have designated roles in the tea ceremony. One needs to learn how to be a good guest. Then when one learns to be a good host, he can put himself in the guest’s place and anticipate what needs to be done.
Recently, I gave a tea gathering for a few of my tea friends. These were experienced tea people and knew how to be good guests. It was such an incredible experience because guests anticipated the host and I anticipated the guests. By thinking of each other we, together, created an unforgettable experience. Things flowed and time stood still for us. And too soon it was coming to an end. We had been in a small room for 4 hours and there was never a moment that was awkward or uncomfortable. I would say that because of this our spirits touched and it was very moving.
Sep 4, 2007
Just to let my regular readers know, good news. The new computer is on its way and I hope to be up and running this week. It has really been a challenge to make sure I have all of my computer work done on the one hour alotted in my library access but I have plenty of posts coming up for you. Thank you for checking back and for your patience while I get back online.
In the meantime, if you are in Portland Issoantea will be at Dai Ichi International presenting tea ceremony on Thursday September 6. Free and open to the public. Come share a bowl of tea with us.
Dai Ichi International Travel
925 NW Lovejoy St
Portland, OR 97209
Thursday, September 6, 2007 6:00-7:30 pm
Aug 24, 2007
I am sorry about the delay is posting to the blog. I have had computer troubles, and spent this entire frustrating week working with Dell to no avail. I will have to replace the computer, so until then, I may be sporadic in my posting.
This is to let you know that I have met with a few people here in town and now you can get SweetPersimmon.com products at:
Dai Ichi International Travel
925 NW Lovejoy St
Portland, OR 97209
They have a little gift shop area and have let me put a few things there for sale. If you are in the Portland area, stop by and save on shipping charges for the Portable Meditation Seat, Insulated Tea Infuser Travel Mug, Premium Incense from Shoyeido, and photo cards taken from around Portland.
Being without a computer has made me aware how much I am dependent on technology. It has become an essential way for me to keep in touch with my friends, conduct business, and work out my family schedules. I have felt rather at a loss being unplugged for 6 days.
I have used the telephone more, scheduled more face to face meetings and generally been more available to my husband because I am not on the computer. I realize how much out of human touch I have been and it is a great lesson to me. Even though email and posting is a fast convenient way for me to communicate, it is also less personal. I also noticed how much more time I have to get things done. Being on the computer is a big time waster for me.
I am rather glad that I have had this time to be unplugged and more in touch with the people around me.
Aug 18, 2007
In most martial arts there is what is called the kata, a series of exercises that a student memorizes and copies exactly what the sensei teaches. The same is true for tea. Through 400 years of refinement tea procedures have developed for beauty, efficiency and economy of motion. Through the repeated exercise of following the kata, the form, the student develops body memory.
I can see this with my intermediate students. They will be in the middle of a tea procedure and forget what the next move needs to be, but the body already knows and unconsciously it will start to make the next move. The mind that hasn’t caught up with the body and will stop the movement and student becomes even more confused.
Practicing the kata helps with body awareness. Many students of tea in America get impatient with learing the kata. If they have done something once or twice they think that they have learned it. Perhaps intellectually they have the basics, but the body needs to do it at least 30 times. Doing something once or twice will not give your body enough time to know precisely what it needs to do.
Once students have learned the correct form, there is constant training to maintain it without getting sloppy. Paying attention to what your body, hands, head, feet, knees are doing while making tea is not easy. For example, my sensei used to say while making tea that your attention should be on your non-working hand. What is it doing? Where is it supposed to be? Is there tension there? Is it ready to do the next thing? All this while you are moving through the procedure of making tea at the same time.
There are those who see chado as a rigid set of rules to follow, who see the kata as stifling creativity and sponteneity. But there is tremendous freedom within the structure of the kata to explore and learn from its potential. Following the kata, self-consciousness is conquered and the true self is uncovered. It is a self that marks the kata with its own inimitable qualities. As sensei says, “When we have so thorougly learned the kata it moves beyond to your katachi.”
Aug 17, 2007
I suppose it wasn’t the best planning in the world to take a six-hour hike up and around Tiger Mountain the day before my tea class. My teacher could clearly see that I was hurting as my 60-plus year-old knees winced in pain as the class wore on.
At a break in the lesson he handed me a small package wrapped in an attractive green cloth. Opening it I found pain relief in the shape of three pieces of wood, one of Sweet Persimmon’s seiza stools.
I’d purchased a similar stool years ago in Japan but it never gave me any relief. Its dimensions were wrong for my Western frame but the Sweet Persimmon one was perfect! It took me five seconds to assemble the seat and another five to tie the padded fabric to it and thus give me some extra (and welcome) padding.
The rest of the class was a joy as I was able to give my full attention to my instructor. And, because the way the stool is built, you would have to look hard to realize I wasn’t sitting in full seiza position.
Needless to say, that night I ordered my own! It’s been great to have in class and, even though I have a class tomorrow, I think I’ll tackle Mt. Catherine today . . .
A grateful tea student
You can order your Portable Meditation seat from SweetPersimmon.com and sit in comfort, too.
Aug 16, 2007
I really don’t go to tea lessons or tea class at least I don’t call it that. It just seems inadequate to what I am doing. When people ask where I go every week after work, I tell them I am going keiko. Keiko in Japanese means training or practice or to learn or involve oneself. The next thing that they ask is after 25 years what are you training or practicing for?
Going to keiko is not necessarily practice for doing a chaji (tea gathering) nor is it necessarily for advancing to the next certificate level nor for keeping in shape, though there is nothing like training your legs for sitting seiza through a 4 hour chaji. Going every week to keiko isn’t really to get to some end result, complete a study, or train for a big event.
Even if I go to keiko and just clean the tatami or wash and put utensils away, it is still as meaningful as if I went through the whole ritual of preparing and serving tea. There is just something so satisfying about going to keiko. No matter how hard it is to get myself to class, to prepare for tea, to go through the hassle of putting on layer after layer of kimono, every week I come away exhausted but nourished. It feeds and fills some place in me that makes it worth while. I feel inspired and energized and ready to face the week ahead.
Aug 14, 2007
You can go to any fast food restaurant today and “Supersize” your order. For a little more money you can get twice as much food. Marketing calls it Value. As if we needed a half pound of hamburger, two potatoes of french fries and 64 oz of drink for our midday meal. American culture today makes it so difficult to say “I am satisfied, I have enough.” People look at you funny and ask what is wrong with you. We think we need to have a bigger house, fancier car, the latest gadgets. Consumers are what drive the economy. People are working longer hours, looking for the next promotion in order to satisfy the financial obligations of buying on credit for more electronics, more clothes, more exotic vacations. We are exhorted daily with messages to have more, do more, be more, more, more.
Some of us may get layed off from our job or have health problems that halt the headlong pursuit of having more. But such events rarely allow people to appreciate their circumstances. But what happens to those who step off this acquisition merry-go-round? I read a news story the other day about a high-powered executive that quit his job to spend more time with his family. None of his co-workers believed that he made the decision to do it. They thought it was a polite way of saying he was fired. Choosing a simpler lifestyle not easy. How can we get to a place where we can say that we have enough, we are satisfied?
Lessons from Chado the Way of Tea
According to D.T. Suzuki, who introduced Zen Buddhism and Japanese culture to the West:
“… to understand Japanese culture is to understand the desire not to be dependent on things worldly – wealth, power and reputation – and yet to feel inwardly the presence of something of the highest value, above time and social position.” (from Zen and Japanese Culture)
Rikyu, who codified Tea as we know it today, left many sayings about how much is enough:
“There is shelter enough if it keeps the rain off, and food enough when it staves off hunger. We draw water, gather firewood, boil the water and make tea.” (from the Nampuroku)
“Tea should not be an exhibition of what the tea man owns. Instead the sincerity of his heart should be expressed.” (from Rikyu’s 100 poems)
Not everyone can take these lessons from Chado and put them into practice in their own everyday life, but we can strive for them as we study Tea and the Way. Little by little, in my own study, I have understood more about what Rikyu was talking about.
While I was living in Japan, I stayed in a small Japanese room that was my living room, bedroom, study and dressing room. My actual living space became smaller and smaller as I acquired things. My choices often came down to “can I live without it?” rather than “do I want it?” Returning back home after living with absolute essentials for a year, I wanted to clean out my house and get rid of so many things that were cluttering up my space.
So the lifestyle question for me is not “can I fill up the empty spaces?” but “what can I eliminate and still be satisfied?” It is like sculpting a life. What can I remove to reveal the art within rather than add something more to clutter and obscure it. Removing many of the things that distract us, allows time for reflection on what are our deepest values are so that we may consciously live a life of meaning according to those values.
Also, by getting rid extraneous things, I was amazed at how unburdened I felt. Ownership implies that I have taken responsibility for it: finding a place for it, caring for it, storing it, keeping it in good working order. I did not notice when I was acquiring things how each thing weighed me down a little more until I was mentally dragging it all around with me.
Another aspect of having enough is being thankful for what we already have. It may sound trite, but getting up every morning and being thankful for the life we have seems to make the desire for more less strident. And there are many things to be thankful for: good health, family, and friends, to name a few. Especially after the September 11, 2001, attacks in New York and Washington, we ought to look right here now and appreciate our lives as they are before we think about the future, knowing that at any random time, our lives can be changed forever.
The Japanese kanji for contentment is made up of two characters: chi soku, literally to know sufficiency. Nobody can tell us how much is enough. If we rely on external sources to tell us, there will never be enough. There will always be something more that we do not have. Only we know what it is in our lives to know sufficiency. It comes from inside us. It comes from appreciating what we already have, from knowing what is really important to us, and deciding what we can live without.
In many ways I can say that I live to get through this moment. That is, I cannot imagine what will happen next week, nor remember what I had for breakfast without stopping to think. But usually that is because I am busy, busy, busy with right now that I don’t have time to remember or think. All I want to do is scratch this off my do to list and move on to the next. I’ve got to keep moving, keep moving or I’ll get behind.
Not just living through the moment but fully embracing it is difficult. We have so little time in our lives with our overloaded schedules that it is difficult to carve out time for meditation or spiritual pursuits. There is always dinner, then soccer practice, getting milk for breakfast, taking clothes to the cleaners and…
So by sheer coincidence, when I do have few minutes before the next meeting, or waiting in line at the checkout, or stopped in traffic, how can I cherish this moment? I have a friend, Al Lee, who tells me that I could do it by taking a few deep breaths. By consciously noticing my breathing habits, I find myself taking very shallow breaths or holding it in, especially when I am under stress, in a hurry, angry or nervous.
Taking deep breaths fills my blood with oxygen, which in turn helps my body function more efficiently. Just filling my lungs fully with air brings me out of preoccupation into awareness. So even when I do not have those stolen moments to slow down or meditate, I can take a deep breath and cherish even the moments when I am busy.
Aug 12, 2007
If asked the nature of chanoyu say it’s the sound of wind-blown pines
in a black and white painting.
Third-Generation Grand Master
Aug 10, 2007
Chado literally translated is the path or way of tea, just as kendo is the way of the sword, shodo is the way of the brush, kado the way of flowers. There are many paths and many do. But what is the path and where is it leading us? Many people think the way is the path to enlightenment, or the way to satori. But this implies that there is an end result we are striving for.
To me the way of tea is the journey of how we conduct our lives every day. It is one step at a time and the particular path we choose only serves as the vehicle or measure of our conduct. In my view, there are not just the traditional paths of practice. There certainly can be running-do, golfing-do, photography-do, woodworking-do and even skateboarding-do.
At some point, if we are serious about something, we will invest time and hard work to become better at it. After some time of working hard at it, we will begin to get rewards out of it that have nothing to do with getting better. And often it becomes a life long pursuit.
There seems to be some of the same stages that are similar in many of these endeavors. At first it seems like a pleasant thing to do, or a social thing to do. Then it becomes a little more serious and we begin to gather information and knowledge about it. Another stage seems to be accumulating the right gear, utensils or equipment. Maybe there is a stage where we investigate the previous or historical recognized masters of the practice. And some of us continue to do it because we just cannot imagine a life without it.
Aug 9, 2007
In preparation for one meeting in a lifetime,
I swept and dusted the tea room,
unrolled the scroll to hang.
I set the kettle to boil,
scooped tea powder into the container,
rinsed the tea bowl clean.
I filled the cold water jar,
carefully wiped the tea scoop
and arranged a single flower.
When the kettle
began to sing its lament,
I made you a bowl of tea
though you were not there to drink it.
I heard your step
whispering across the tatami,
glimpsed a shadow of your kimono
in the swirls of steam.
I inhaled the fragrance of plum
on a cold winter day
and sat listening to the wind in the pines.
My first sensei’s English was not all that good but she had many words of wisdom to impart to her students. One of the things that she told us over and over again, “In class you can do nothing right, in chaji you can do nothing wrong.”
Boy, that was the truth. She was a strict teacher that didn’t let me get away with much. She paid the most minute attention when I was making tea. She watched how I walked, and my posture. She scolded if I put something down and it was a centimeter off in the wrong place. She noticed bent wrists, short cuts, and sloppy habits. She commented on how well I prepared my utensils and how thorough I was in cleaning.
But when it came to chaji (a formal tea gathering) she never scolded anyone. It was all about solving the problem, getting things done, and making it a wonderful experience for the guests. Each chaji is unique and a once in a lifetime experience and sensei told us that things unfold there as they should be. Even if there were mistakes, they were just part of the experience.
After I reached a certain level, my sensei required all of her students to do at least one chaji a year. She would supervise us and we would put on tea gatherings for each other. It was like putting together a major event, from invitations and theme selection to menu planning and cooking to proper selection of utensils. The chaji tea gathering consists of a formal seven course meal, 3 servings of sake, two layings of charcoal, a break and two types of tea. It is supposed to last about 3 ½ to four hours.
She wanted us to put all of our training to use in planning and holding these formal tea gatherings. In the weeks before the chaji, she would become even more strict in her teachings, and sometimes she would throw unexpected things at us in class. Of course, if we were unprepared or didn’t deal well with the changes she would ask us how we were to handle the unexpected at chaji if we didn’t prepare to handle it in class. It was good training for us and we always did what sensei said.
Aug 8, 2007
I have friends who have asked me if I have completed my study of tea. They also ask if I am a tea master yet. I laugh and tell them that chado is a lifetime study and I will always be a student.
Little did I know when I took my first 10 weeks of tea ceremony class that I would be hooked for life. Even after 10 years of study, I was only hungry for more. My husband says that it ceased to be a hobby with me and instead became a lifestyle.
Chado encompasses so many aspects of Japanese culture: flower arranging, calligraphy, gardening, cooking, architecture, ceramics, Zen, history, literature – any one of which could be a lifetime study, so I need several lifetimes to explore them all, and then perhaps several more before I could call myself a master.
The former grand tea master’s wife would come to talk with us when I studied in Kyoto. She made a statement that describes what happened to me, “Aren’t we the lucky ones, those of us whose hearts were stolen away by tea?”
Aug 7, 2007
so serene so good
I keep a tea set at the office, because when things get stressful, I try to take a fifteen minute break and make myself a bowl of tea. When there are more than 300 email messages to answer, my voice mail is overflowing and most of the time is spent in meetings and it seems like I am drowning in paperwork, I need tea more than ever.
Besides having a caffeine boost from the matcha powdered tea, the ritual of making a bowl of tea calms me and brings back my focus. I feel less overwhelmed, and more able to get back to work and be productive. When I am working those late nights, a bowl of tea keeps me going until I finish what I need to do.
At some of my jobs over the years, I have started a weekly “tea break” where a few people gather in my office to share a bowl of tea. At the end of a hectic week, it is a great way to start the weekend.
Aug 6, 2007
The reasons are as varied as there are people.There are some who study because they love to dress in kimono; some because they are interested in Japanese gardens, others want to learn kaiseki (Japanese gourmet cooking), some come to tea through Zen or martial arts, still others like the social aspect of gathering with like minded people or the serenity of the tea room. Whatever the reason to study chanoyu, something happens if the student is serious and studies for more than a year.
After about a year of studying chanoyu I began to see how deep it was. My body had begun to get the hang of moving around in a tea room without my feeling like a cow in a flower bed. My ear had gotten used to all the strange Japanese names of things (though I still didn’t understand much when my sensei was scolding me). I could even get through a tea procedure at class without feeling like a complete idiot. I wasn’t as tense about making mistakes or feeling frustrated because my sensei responded to my questions with cryptic answers or ignored them altogether. And even though my feet would go numb from sitting seiza, I was able to not mind it so much.
Little by little, I was beginning to just be in the tea room and observe and absorb whatever was going on between host and guest. Not only that, I was able to contribute something to the experiece. The give and take by both host and guest created something unique and special. You cannot be in small room for hours with people, eat together, drink tea together and suffer together on your knees without feeling some kind of bond.
My focus at class began to change as well. At first I was concentrating so hard on my own progress. I wanted to memorize and master the tea procedures. I was concerned about the pain in my legs. I wanted to gain more knowledge to impress my sensei. But as I became more comfortable, it was less about me and more about us – my fellow students, my sensei and what we created together. At first we just cleaned up our own tea bowl and tea things after our lesson, then we just saw what needed to be done and did it without thought to whose job it was.
Also around this time, I started to come early to class to help prepare things for the lesson.My sensei began to teach me how to arrange the flowers and occasionally let me choose the scroll for the lesson.I started to wipe all the tatami before and after class without being asked.
We all had different reasons to begin to study, but we all were contributing and creating an enhanced common experience, something bigger than just our own individual concerns.Because we had different interests, we became a cooperative team. One student was devoted to making tea sweets and brought her experiments to class to share.One student had a lovely flower garden and brought flowers to arrange. Another student was good at reading calligraphy and would help translate the scroll. I was good at cleaning and so I did.
Aug 4, 2007
When I first began to study Chado part of the creed that we would recite is:
As we diligently learn The Way, at the same time,
we will not forget the humble but eager heart of the beginner.
How many times have I started some new thing with great enthusisam, but flagged after finding out how much work it was? I am a great starter, but find it more than difficult to finish something. Art projects, exercise programs, new business ventures, written poems, stories, film ideas, volunteer works, website postings, etc., have all ended up in the closet not done. For me, there is no problem generating energy, focus and excitement at the beginning of a new project. The problem is to sustain it until it is completed.
I took a woodworking class (another interest started but never mastered) one time from a Japanese carpenter. We spent a week sharpening tools before we even looked at a piece of wood. One day he held up two chisels. One was well worn and sharpened down to an inch long blade. He’d had it for 20 years he said. The other was a brand new chisel, just out of the craftsman’s forge and had been only used once. “This one,” he said holding up the old chisel, “knows what his job is and gets it done without any fuss. I could use it with out thinking because it knows my hand so well, in fact, it practically does the job without me.” Then he held up the new one. “This one, however,” he said, “I have to pay very, very close attention to. It will cut when I don’t want it to in ways I don’t want it to. But sometimes the mistakes made with this one are surprising and artistic. The spirit and engery of this one is exciting to work with.”
For me this lesson was very profound. One way for me to sustain my interest in something is retain the eager heart of the beginner, to approach each task with the attitude that I had when I begin something. Even with Chado procedures, something I have done hundreds, if not thousands of times and know by heart each step and could do it with my eyes closed and head elsewhere, to come to the task with the humble, but eager heart of the beginner. The challenge is to make it fresh and new as if for the first time, to be open to whatever discoveries I will enounter along the way and learn as if for the first time with enthusism and excitement. Ah, that is the challenge and that is the light of life, isn’t it?
Aug 2, 2007
By John Dillon
One year, the legendary 16th century tea master Sen Rikyu planted morning glories in his Kyoto garden. The all-powerful shogun, the tyrannical Toyotomi Hideyoshi, heard of the beauty of the blooms and announced he and his retinue would travel from his castle to Rikyu’s humble tea hut to view the flowers. But when he arrives, all the morning glories have been cut down and removed, roots and all. Not a single blossom remains. Angry at the affront, he enters the tea house . . .
Before I tell you what happens next, let me tell you a bit about why this story interests me. I’m a theater artist and I was born and raised in Oregon. As soon as I finished my sixteen-year stint as the artistic director of the Milwaukee Repertory Theater, my wife and I headed to the Pacific Northwest for the next chapter in our life. One of the things that pulls me so strongly to our region are its vivid contrasts. I remember recently hustling back from a hike in the Cascades and zipping out of my soiled mountain togs so that I could make the curtain of an urbane English comedy at a downtown theater. And on that same drive back to Seattle, I remember making a note to change the dates of our rodeo tickets in Ellensburg so that I could participate in a special tea ceremony to be held in the Arboretum. Life is more vivid here (despite the more than occasional gray skies) because the contrasts are so striking. And that makes me think of the story of Rikyu and the morning glories, with its humble Zen priest and angry Shogun, of the royal retinue and the fragile teahouse. And then, of course, there’s the mystery of the missing flowers . . .
As Hideyoshi enters the tearoom he finds one perfect morning glory, the glorious flower shining with dew and arranged simply in a bamboo container in the small room’s alcove. As Hideyoshi begins to grasp the meaning of Rikyu’s gesture, a side panel slides open and Rikyu enters to start the tea ceremony.
Without even articulating the story’s meaning, there is something I find dramatically satisfying in the simple tale. To begin, of course, are the contrasts already mentioned. Such conflicts/contrasts are the heart of theater. Next emerge three principles I find vital in drama: selection, context and danger. Rikyu chose one flower to represent the many. A playwright chooses only one character to represent a myriad and he or she chooses only a few events to reveal the meaning of a full and complex life. Next, Rikyu took this one flower he felt represented the multitude in his garden and moved it indoors and placed it in a carefully chosen container. Likewise, we can sometimes see our lives better by viewing another life in the openly artificial context of an art form like the theater. Even the most realistic play has a missing wall through which we view the action to say nothing of the stage lights that grow and dim and the proscenium arch that frames the action. Somehow, viewing the private act publicly allows us to see it better. Selection and context are vital tools in helping us see meanings in the life around us.
Finally, there’s danger. Hideyoshi’s power over life and death was absolute. Rikyu risked his life to make his unspoken point. If you doubt that, you should know that some years later (1591 to be exact), the Shogun sent word to Rikyu that he was displeased with the tea master and that Rikyu was to commit ritual suicide (seppuku). Although the reason for Hideyoshi’s displeasure was never revealed, Rikyu complied. And out of respect for Rikyu, morning glories haven’t been used in the tearoom since.
All of us in the theater live in danger, even if it falls short of the extreme danger that a determined 16th century Zen tea master faced. Each time we decide which play to put on (selection) and in what style to produce it (context), all of us know the result may be disaster. The wrong play, the wrong time or the wrong approach and you harvest angry audiences.
During my years of running the Milwaukee Rep, I never saw anything speed by so fast as a successful production. Full houses and happy actors made the days rush by too quickly to fully savor. By contrast, time never crawled by so slowly as a bomb. Sullen audiences in a half-full auditorium and the dispirited faces of the actors as they left the theater made the weeks of a run feel like years. As much as grants and endowments cushion us from the economic uncertainty of the box office, as theaters and theater artists we live or die by an audience’s financial and spiritual approval.
The world of the visual arts and music are full of stories of the misunderstood genius whose work only gathers a wider audience after their death (the Vincent Van Gogh’s and Charles Ives’) but such stories don’t exist in the theater. We succeed in our lifetime, in front of contemporary audiences, or not at all. The only exception I know of is a minor 19th century German playwright whose very obscurity helps make the point.
So, any time a theater artist is at work, making choices, they are selecting and arranging the flowers, as it were, that will soon be put on display. It’s a nerve-wracking process, you see, and we’re always a bit on edge because the shogun might show up to see the results . . .
John Dillon is a student of the Urasenke Way of Tea, the associate director of Tokyo’s award-winning Institute of Dramatic Arts and the Founding President of Theatre Puget Sound, the service organization for theaters and theater workers in the Seattle area.
Aug 1, 2007
I always try to wear kimono when I am in the tea room. Some people in America think that kimono is an anachornism. Very few people in Japan wear kimono these days. But for those who have studied tea in a tatami mat room, wearing kimono makes ultimate sense. Everything I do is affected by the kimono: how I walk, how I sit, how I hold my arms, and my hand movements. The movements and body postures taught in Chado also make sense. One cannot slouch in kimono and one must take care not to spill because the silk fabric is expensive and difficult to clean.
But for me, putting on kimono is also a part of the ritual of preparing for tea.Just as important as cleaning and preparing the room and utensils, putting on kimon is like preparing my body.With each layer of clothing I tie on, I am removing myself from the everyday world and preparing to enter the sacred space of the tea room.I take on a different posture, both physical and mental.I grow to fill the sleeves and open myself to whatever experience will be created in the tea room. My pace slows down, my gestures become more fluid.It is a paradox to me that tied into kimono and obi, there is a freedom to become larger than myself.
I urge every tea student to try out the feeling of being in kimono during the tea ceremony.
Jul 31, 2007
Studying traditional chanoyu takes place in a tatami mat room. The proper way to sit is seiza. To sit in seiza, first kneel on the floor, and then rest the buttocks on your heels, with the tops of the feet flat on the floor. The hands are sometimes folded modestly in the lap and sometimes placed palm down on the upper thighs with the fingers close together. The back is kept straight, though not unnaturally stiff. Traditionally, women sit with the knees one fist width apart, while men sit with two fist widths of distance between the knees. The big toes may rest side by side or are sometimes overlapped. Some martial arts, notably kendo and iaido also use seiza position and also can be used for sitting meditation or zazen.
While practice, exercises and experience make it more comfortable to move around in the Tea room sitting seiza, for long periods of time, can be quite painful or your feet fall completely asleep and become dead weights making it difficult and dangerous to get up and walk.
At first for me, it was hard to pay attention to anything else while my feet and legs were screaming at me in pain. I tried sitting in the bathtub with warm water. I tried stretching exercises, holding my breath and many other techniques to get the pain to stop. One day I asked my sempai (a senior student), who could sit for days without apparent pain, “When will the pain in my legs go away?” He told me that the pain never goes away, but after a while you won’t mind it so much. After a very long time of thinking hard about this, I became aware that in resisting the pain in my legs, I was filling my mind up with the struggle to resist the pain. That left little room in my mind to pay attention to what was going on in the Tea room. More and more, I am able to “not mind the pain so much” and to notice a lot more of what is going on around me.
For those who want to sit in seiza, but find the pressure too much on feet and ankles, I developed a little, portable meditation seat. It comes in a compact carrying case that doubles as a seat cushion. You can find it here at SweetPersimmon.com.
Jul 30, 2007
In America, there is the stereotype and fantasy of geisha girls making tea for men. But in the beginning, women were not allowed to practice the tea ceremony. In this 400 year old tradition, it wasn’t until a hundred years ago that women were allowed to study and participate in tea ceremonies. At one point, samurai were expected to study yin pursuits such as tea ceremony and flower arranging to balance the yang pursuits of sword practice and calligraphy. Even now, most of the highest ranking tea masters and teachers are men.
During my tea training, I have had both men and women for sensei and I have always studied with a mix of men and women. I feel lucky in this regard because the energy in a tea room with men is different. While the training is the same for men and women, there are subtle differences in how men sit, stand, walk and move in the tea room. Unlikely as it seems, tea is a physical pursuit, and a few adaptations to procedures have been made to allow women to study.
When I was in Kyoto, whenever we went to formal tea gatherings at the grand tea master’s house, we were always served by the men – tea masters in training. It is quite an experience to see a man in kimono, like the grand tea master, conduct a tea ceremony. It’s the combination of strength, skill and gracefulness and yes, it is quite attractive.
Jul 29, 2007
The role of the host and the guest in tea are clearly defined. That the host will give his guests every consideration is a given, but also the guest must give his host the same thing. That is why the guest role is taught as seriously as the host role when learning the way of tea. This teaching of Rikyu goes beyond the host and the guest in the tea room. He says to give those with whom you find yourself. No matter where you go and what you do, those with whom you find yourself you must give them every consideration. It is very much the golden rule – treat others as you would be treated yourself.
Easy to say, hard to do. With the modern technology it is so easy to ignore those with whom we find ourselves. How many times have I interrupted someone I was with and taken a mobile phone call and ignored the person in front of me? What about at an unavoidable meeting with people I barely know or don’t particularly like? How we treat other people is a measure of how we view ourselves.
“First you must make a delicious bowl of tea; lay the charcoal so the water boils; arrange the flowers as they are in the field; in the summer suggest coolness, in the winter, warmth; do everything ahead of time; prepare for rain; and give those with whom you find yourself every consideration.” If you can do these well then surely the great tea master Rikyu would become your student. These teachings are just as relevant today in the modern world as they were in the 16th century tea room and we can put them to practice in our daily lives.
Jul 28, 2007
Living in the Pacific Northwest, this teaching surely applies to us. It rains often and you never know when nice weather will turn to rain. I keep a waterproof raincoat in the car, just in case I get caught out in the rain.
Just as in a tea gathering, the host must prepare for rain with special rain clogs and umbrellas for the guests as well as something to entertain them if they cannot go outside during the break.
At another level, the tea gathering is a complex event and you cannot plan for every single disaster that may or may not happen. Tea training teaches us be flexible if what you have planned goes awry. Preparation in this case is training yourself to deal with whatever comes up. One extra guest shows up? Divide the food so there is enough. Tea spills on the tatami mat? Wipe it up and go on. To be prepared is to respond in an appropriate way as the situation presents itself.
Jul 27, 2007
Of a certainty, if we are putting on an event like a tea gathering, there are preparations to do ahead of time. If things are not done ahead of time, they must be done during the event and that often takes more time. If we are rushing around trying to make up for lost time, it is difficult to be present and enjoy the moment.
Procrastination only makes us run faster and take longer on the back end. We cannot catch up wasted time, it is gone forever. Time is the one commodity that there will never be more of so this teaching of Rikyu encourages us not to waste it.
Jul 26, 2007
The seasons are part of the tea ceremony. When the weather is uncomfortably warm or freezing cold, suggesting coolness doesn’t mean turning on the air conditioner or heating up the room. There were no air conditioners in the 16th century. In the summer the days are hot, the fire is hot and the guests are hot. It is up to the host to coax coolness into the minds of the guests. This takes imagination, discipline and force of spirit.
A larger room, flowers relating to water, darkening the interior, and using utensils that depict the seashore, mountains, flowing or dripping water or cool breezes all help to give the guests a cooler feeling. Not getting flustered, impatient or hurried will calm and cool the guests.
In the winter, moving the fire closer so guests can see the burning charcoal, using tall teabowls to retain the heat, or serving spicy ginger in the soup suggest warmth. A tea person can project warmth and coziness in the stories he tells, or the activities he plans.
These are truly tools for life. With suggestion, imagination, discipline and force of spirit no matter what the situation, you can always make it better. Instead of resisting and complaining about what is, accept it and find enjoyment or challenge in making it better.
Jul 25, 2007
Ikebana, the art of formal flower arranging, is familiar to most of us. But chabana, or tea flowers is a different art altogether. It is the art of arranging flowers naturally. Rikyu taught his students to place one or two flowers in simple bamboo containers. He encouraged them to put the flowers in with one breath and not touch or adjust them once they were put in the container.
When I first tried my hand at chabana, I was quite frustrated.My arrangements drooped or the flowers looked the wrong way.It was much more difficult to than I thought to arrange them naturally.The problem was, I was trying to make the flowers do something that they wouldn’t have done in the field.To do this requires that we pay attention to how they are growing in the field before we cut them.Which ones are hanging down? Which ones are standing up? Which are tall and which are short?What way are the flowers facing?If we observe them before cutting them, then when we bring them into the tea room to place them in a container it becomes much simpler.
The same is true in daily life. Things become simpler by observing and working with the way things are rather than wishing that things fit some notion in my head of how it should be. By not judging or trying to make the situation fit some fanatasy, or trying to change the people around me, I am able to appreciate so much more about my life.
Jul 24, 2007
These days we do not use charcoal to boil water, but one of the essential procedures in tea ceremony is laying the charcoal and building the fire.This is so important that it is done in front of the guests.It is not easy to lay the charcoal with efficiency and minimum mess in the tea room and in front of the guests.
We have been taught to lay the charcoal in a certain arrangement to be beautiful and to burn completely. But no matter how beautiful the arrangement, there is still no boiling water if it doesn’t burn. It’s better to have a not so perfect arrangement that burns hot enough to boil the water.
What I can take from this is to look at where I am striving for perfection in my life and look beyond the perfection to see what I am really trying to achieve. Is the goal laying perfect, beautiful charcoal or boiling water? Rikyu teaches us to think about doing things to accomplish something rather than making perfection the end goal.
Jul 23, 2007
This is the first rule of Rikyu and he tells us to do what is most important. In making a delicious bowl of tea we must pay attention to technical things like the temperature and amount of the water, the amount of tea, how long to whisk the tea and how much foam. It is also important to know when to stop whisking because the tea is cooling as we are making it. We also need to pay attention to our guests – what do they like? A little cooler temperature? Whisk a little longer. Stronger flavor of tea? Put more tea powder in. More foam on top? Whisk more vigorously.
Part of tea ceremony is purification of the utensils. While the host is doing this, he is also purifying his heart and letting go of everything else so that by the time he is ready to make tea, he is present and all of his concentration and focus is making the tea. Part of his essence goes into the bowl of tea, thus giving to the guest something extra besides just tea.
There are many things going on in the tea ceremony and it is hard to keep track of everything. Flowers, scroll, utensils, walking, standing and sitting correctly. There is a correct order of doing things and correct placement and timing. But Rikyu reminds us that first, you must make a delicious bowl of tea. Even if everything is perfectly timed and aligned and utensils and flowers are beautiful, if the tea is not delicious the whole point of tea ceremony has been missed. Our attention should be put on what is most important.
Taking this further into everyday life, we can get so caught up paying attention to other things that we miss what is most important. We fill our lives with so many activities and things that we can even forget what it is that comes first. Rikyu reminds us to pay attention and put important things first.
Jul 21, 2007
In the 16th century Sen no Rikyu, tea master to Hideyoshi who unified Japan during feudal times, was the most influential tea master of his time. During this time, Zen influenced the tea aesthetic and its followers refined it into Chado – the way of tea, just as Kendo – the way of the sword, shodo – the way of the brush, kado – the way of flower arranging, and others become spiritual paths to enlightenment. Rikyu’s sayings and aesthetic sense codified tea ceremony as we know it today.
A student once asked Rikyu to summarize the most important teachings of tea, hoping for a glimpse of some secret teaching he had not yet learned. Rikyu responded, “First you must make a delicious bowl of tea; lay the charcoal so the water boils; arrange the flowers as they are in the field; in the summer suggest coolness, in the winter, warmth; do everything ahead of time; prepare for rain; and give those with whom you find yourself every consideration.” The student was disappointed with this response, and said he already knew all that. Rikyu told him if he could do all that well, then Rikyu would be his student. This teaching is known as Rikyu’s Seven Rules.
This story tells us that the Way of Tea is basically concerned with activities that are a part of everyday life, yet to master these requires great cultivation and diligence.
As seen within Rikyu’s seven rules, the Way of Tea concerns the creation of the proper setting for that moment of enjoyment of a perfect bowl of tea. But the Way of Tea can well described as the Art of Living.
Jul 20, 2007
Ever since I began to study tea regularly, I have had to travel across town to class once a week. My tea ceremony class was held on Thursday nights and it was 45 minutes to an hour in rush hour traffic to get to my sensei’s house. When I moved to Seattle it sometimes took two hours to get to class.
Because it was so difficult for me to get to class, I often asked myself why do I continue to do it? The answer quite simply is that I felt so much better after class. I remember driving home many times saying to myself, “Oh I didn’t want to go to class tonight, but I am so glad that I did.”
The more complicated answer is that tea class is a place where I can take a breath in my life. Our lives have become so complicated with time being the commodity in shortest supply. Everything takes longer than I anticipate and I am usually behind as I cram more and more into my already overloaded schedule. By contrast, in the tea room, there are no clocks. Each procedure is just as long as it takes. Multi-tasking is not a virtue in tea.
Tea class has become an experience rather than an activity for me. Each part of the experience has also become a ritual. The driving in traffic, putting on kimono, preparing the utensils, making tea, and cleaning up, puts my world in order again. By the next week when it is time for class, I need to put the world in order again.
Labels: tea ceremony
Jul 19, 2007
Wa is the complete harmony of all elements: guests, utensils, nature and attitude.
Kei is a profound reverence toward all things, and is a characteristic of humility.
Sei contains the thought of orderliness in life, cleanliness, and purity.
Jaku means calm even amid the chaos. To be able to create the sense of calm is jaku.
Jul 18, 2007
I suppose I started this blog in the middle, assuming people knew what tea ceremony was all about. I want to go back to the beginning and explain a little about the basics of tea ceremony.
What is Chanoyu?
Chanoyu is usually translated as “Tea Ceremony.” It literally means “hot water for tea,” but centuries of Japanese history, literature and culture come together in the study and discipline of making and serving tea.
Chanoyu is a gift of hospitality that offers sanctuary for the human spirit, a quiet refuge in which to loosen the burdens of secular concerns to experience renewal.
Why is it sometimes called Chado?
As a spiritual practice, Chado, the Way of Tea, provides a gateway to the artistic and spiritual traditions of Japan first introduced to America in the classic “Book of Tea,” by 19th c. critic, curator, and historian Okakura Kakuzo.
Chado presents an aesthetic approach to life that recognizes we are part of a larger pattern of relationships — with others, with society, and with nature.
Labels: tea ceremony
Jun 29, 2007
Coming up on Thursday July 5, we’ll be presenting Japanese Tea Ceremony as part of Portland’s first Thursday celebration in the Pearl District. We will be featuring summertime tea ceremony in July and August. Drop in and refresh yourself with a Japanese sweet and green tea.
Please join me Thursday, July 5 from 6:00 to 7:30 at
Dai Ichi International Inc.
925 NW Lovejoy
Portland, OR 97209
P.S. It’s not a formal tea ceremony, just a presentation with explanation about tea ceremony and Japanese culture. See you there.
Labels: tea ceremony
Jun 28, 2007
at the speed of blur,
take a breath
That seems to be my life right now — a blur. But I just attended a seminar on breathing. Breathing is something we do without thinking 24,000 times a day. We can go without food or water for a week to 10 days, but you can count the minutes on one hand we can go without breathing.
In this seminar, we learned techniques on how to breathe consciously and with intention to enhance our health, improve mental and athletic performance, improve emotional well being, and deepen spirituality. It’s all as simple as learning how to improve our breathing.
Al Lee and Don Campbell have a book coming out this fall about breathing, As I live and breathe. Look for it. In the meantime, check out their website to learn a few breathing techniques to reduce stress in your life.
Jun 25, 2007
About a year and a half ago, I assigned myself a project. I wanted to write a haiku a day for a year. Everyone knows about haiku from grade school, 3 lines with 5-7-5 syllables in each line respectively. Partly it was the discipline of writing something every day, partly it was to improve my writing. I wanted to write more expressively and more compactly.
I completed my year of writing haiku and have 365 haiku, plus a few more because I couldn’t stop for a week or so. During the winter months, I was having a hard time and getting bored with writing so I revised my own rules and wrote poems that were 3-5-3 syllables. That was really tough. I also employed a writing support group to help me get the poems done. We met once a week and I had to show my week’s worth of poems for critique.
A very good friend of mine, Kelley Baker (he’s the Angryfilmmaker, check him out) who knows a thing or two about sound recording because he did the sound design for all of Gus Van Sant’s movies, arranged to record the haiku with a few of his friends. Don Campbell and Al Lee (their book, As I live and breathe, will be out this fall, check them out, too) both are musicians and have recording equipment and know how. We met at Don’s house and he set up a microphone. Kelley, his daughter Fiona, Al, Don, Don’s wife Lee and I spent the evening reading and recording haiku. We cut little slips of paper with the poems on them, threw them into a hat and pulled them at random and read them.
I am still so excited about this recording session because I have never done anything like this before. Soon, Kelley and I will edit them, mix them, perhaps add sound effects or music. When we get done, I’ll have a CD I can put on my site, SweetPersimmon.com.
Jun 13, 2007
Last Thursday at Dai Ichi International travel agency, we held a tea ceremony. They have a 3 mat, raised platform tatami room. Anyone could come for a Japanese sweet, observe the tea ceremony, and drink tea — no charge. We had some special guests from Japan and they did oragami, there also was wine and other refreshments.
I want to thank my friends who showed up and the people who stayed to watch. We had a good time.
If you are in the neighborhood, next time on First Thursday, July 5th, we’ll be there. Come in for a sweet and tea. Come in and talk about Japan. Come in and relax from the hustle and bustle of the street. We welcome you.
Dai Ichi International Inc.
925 NW Lovejoy
Portland, OR 97209
Labels: tea ceremony
Jun 4, 2007
As a final note to the tea gathering last week, one of my guests at brought a bottle of fine sake to the gathering as a gift. Yesterday, he called me up and said that he had forgotten to bring something with him. He is a calligrapher and as a gift he brought me three shikishi (poem cards) that he had written in kanji himself. You can see the photos of them here.
The first one says: ichigo ichie. It has been translated as one lifetime, one meeting. This is a famous saying for tea and is often hung in the alcove for tea gatherings. One lifetime, one meeting is a way of saying that now is the moment. This meeting is a once in a lifetime encounter, so be here now to make the most of it because this meeting will never happen the same way again, it can never be recaptured. There may be the same people, but the circumstances will have changed. Often when we spend time with someone, we are doing other things rather than being with that person. We talk on our cell phones or think about what we have to do, or make lists in our head. Even if we are talking with the other person, they can tell when we don’t have our mind on the conversation. Ichigo ichie reminds us to be present with people.
The second shikishi reads, kanza matsukaze o kiku. Translated it says, sit quietly and listen to the wind in the pine trees.
The third shikishi says, rika isshi no haru. Translation: in spring, flowers bloom (silently) on a bough of the pear tree.
All three of these shikishi are appropriate to hang in the tea room for tea gatherings.
I am so excited by these gifts, and I will be sure to invite him back for another tea gathering. Perhaps I will hang one of these shikishi in the alcove to surprise him.
Labels: tea ceremony
May 25, 2007
The tea gathering on Monday went very well, I think. I was preparing up until the last minute. Before the guests arrived, I sprinkled water on the driveway all the way to the street and sprinkled water on the plants leading up to the house to make it welcome and refreshing. Then I put the kettle on to heat water.
The gathering started at 2:00 pm. There were three guests and all arrived on time. I served hot water for refreshment and then they entered the tea room. After greetings, I served a light meal that included sake, of course. After the meal I served a homemade tea sweet and then the guests had a short break while I prepared the room for tea. We enjoyed thick tea where everyone shared a bowl and then thin tea made in individual bowls.
Because the guests were long time tea students who had studied with me for many years, it was a convivial group and everyone knew what to expect, and and what to do. We created our own experience and I hope my guests had a good time.
If you are in Portland, Oregon, I hope you can join me for a tea presentation at First Thursday.
Issoan Tea School and Dai Ichi Travel will be presenting tea ceremony at their Portland Office in the Pearl district during First Thursday’s Art Walk. Stop by for a Japanese sweet and bowl of tea.
Thursday, June 7th, from 6:00 – 7:30 pm
Dai Ichi International Inc.
925 NW Lovejoy
Portland, OR 97209
Call Marjorie Yap 503-645-7058 for more information
Labels: tea ceremony
I am planning a tea ceremony for some friends on Monday and it is a countdown. Last week I put together the guest list, chose a theme and composed a haiku to send on hand lettered invitations. Yesterday I received confirmation from two guests. Today I started cleaning: the garden first, then the house and then the tea room, toilet last. I took out the utensils that I will need for the ceremony. I will see how they look together and how they embody the chakai theme. Then I washed everything and put them out to air dry.
Tomorrow I will go shopping for the meal, practice the tea procedures and order of things. Then clean the tea room once again and vacuum everywhere again. Sunday I will do the ahead of time cooking, like making soup stock and tea sweets. I will also make a wrap a small gift for the guests and write down a list of all the utensils for guests to take home.
Monday I will pick the flowers in the early morning, and fill the containers with fresh water. Then clean the tea room, dust and vacuum again. I will cook the meal, arrange the flowers, hang the scroll and arrange the serving trays. Then I will sift the tea, prepare the tea utensils, set out the tsukubai basin, and clean the toilet before I put on kimono and meditate before the guests arrive.
Oh yes, I almost forgot to get the sake.
Labels: tea ceremony
May 23, 2007
Welcome to the SweetPersimmon Blog.
I am new to this blogging thing so bear with me. I am hoping to use this blog to share with you some things that interest me: tea, meditation, incense, photography.
For those of you who do not know me, I am the owner of www.SweetPersimmon.com, a site that sells the meditation seats I make, as well as specialty tea, teaware, incense, books and photos.
I also teach Japanese Tea Ceremony in Portland, Oregon. I studied Tea Ceremony (Chanoyu) for 25 years in Portland, Seattle, and Kyoto Japan. I’ll post some things about that, too. Meanwhile, you can check out my tea school at www.Issoantea.com.
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