Ask questions -- Rikyu hyakushu

はじをすて人に物とひ習うべし是ぞ上手の基なりける
haji o sute hito ni mono tohi narau beshi kore zo jozu no motoi nari keru

Sometimes person may feel embarrassed to ask questions. That embarrassment should be set aside and questions asked.
or
One must discard all embarrassment when training in tea for this is the foundation of mastery.
or
One should abandon feelings of embarrassment and ask people questions; this is the keystone to become adept.

This poem can be interpreted in many ways, but to my thinking, I would like to put the emphasis on not being embarrassed rather than asking the questions.  In the previous poem, learning by looking and studying is emphasized, so before you ask questions, take time to look, study and reflect on what it is that you have a question about.

The matter of asking questions comes up quite often with my students.  In a lot of learning situations here, asking questions, having discussions and debates show the teacher that you are engaged and participating.  But as I wrote in this post, there are appropriate times and appropriate questions. And don't forget, the poem doesn't say ask your teacher, there are other students in class, and your sempai (senior students) who may have asked the question previously who may be willing to help you out.

As for feeling embarrassed, some people have no problem with this, others may feel embarrassed because they are beginners, or more junior than everyone else. This is the time to discard your embarrassment.  We were all beginners at one time. You are here on the path and everyone has his own journey in his own time.  Ask your sensei if you may ask a question, or if it is an appropriate time to ask a question.  Don't be embarrassed.

Looking and studying -- Rikyu hyakushu

ならひつつ見てこそ習はずよしあしいふは愚かなりけり
naraitsutsu mitekoso narae narawazu ni yoshiashi iu wa oroka narikeri
One learns by looking and studying. Without understanding completely one cannot criticize.
or
In the learning process, watch and learn.  Voicing opinions without having done this is foolishness.

Learning the way of tea is difficult.  At first, many things just don't make sense, everything is strange and it seems like you cannot control your own body in the tea room.  In a situation like this it is best to observe and get the lay of the land.

When I was in Midorikai, in orientation on the first day, Mori sensei advised us that the key to learning chado in Kyoto was sunao no kokoro 直の心. This means an open heart, ready to just accept anything from anyone. People in Kyoto lived and breathed they way of tea and just about everyone there knew more about tea than we did, even if we had studied at home for 25 years.  If I resisted, justified, offered excuses or complained, people were not likely to share their knowledge. He told me there were vast riches there about the way of tea, but I would have to become sunao. He said that sunao meant open without resistance, to take in everything as part of my training. To explain, offer excuse, or justify myself showed that I was not open but resisting the learning. I wrote more about this in the post Just say hai.

Criticizing is just a way to resist what is being taught.  So is arguing and disagreeing with the teacher.  Mori sensei said to just experience whatever the learning is, then reflect upon it later.  You will come upon insights and grasp not only what the teacher was trying to convey, but also the lessons that you were meant to learn.

Learning one to ten -- Rikyu Hyakushu

稽古とは一より習ひ十を知り十よりかへるもとのその一
Keiko towa ichi yori narai ju o shiri ju yori kaeru moto no sono ichi
Practice constitutes learning from one, becoming cognizant of ten, then returning from ten to one, the beginning.
Know that when training, learn from one to ten and return from ten again to one.

This is another one of Rikyu often quoted poems.  Learning from the beginning to ten makes sense as it is a logical progression.  Returning to one again seems like going backward to us.   But when we return to the beginning again, we gain new insights, perspectives and understandings because of the journey we have taken to the top.

I very much appreciate teaching beginning students.  It takes me back to when I was a beginning student and everything was strange and unfamiliar.  There is this excitement of starting and the energy of  something new.  This state of mind is something experienced tea students strive for.  Even though we have done the temae a hundred or even a thousand times, to make it seem brand new as if we are doing it for the first time and discovering it all over again is the challenge.

Even going from advanced temae back to ryakubon, I gain something new about it.  In other words I don’t necessarily return to the beginning again, but it is more like a spiral, coming back to a similar place but deeper and more meaningful.

At every intensive, everybody, including the most advanced teachers go back to the beginning again.  We start with bowing, walking, turning and moving in the tea room, then move on to folding the fukusa and handling utensils and purifying them.  I always learn something new from these from these lessons.  These lessons that I thought I knew, or I knew and forgot, or I knew but got sloppy bad habits.

I wrote more about this in the post  The right way

The deep desire to learn -- Rikyu hyakushu

こころざし　深き　人には　いくたびもあはれみ　深く　奥ぞ　教ふる

Kokorozashi fukaki hito niwa ikutabi mo awareme fukaku okuzo oshifuru.

To the student who has a deep desire to learn the secrets of chanoyu the teacher should spare no effort.

or

One should spare no effort in teaching those with a deep desire to learn.

or

You should many a time compassionately impart the inner teachings to one who has a deeply willing mind.

I'd like to comment on this from both the student's perspective as well as being a teacher.  When I was an intermediate student, I was so hungry for anything I could get my hands on in learning more about Chado.   And I must say that all of my teachers and all of my sempai have been more than generous to teach me what they know.   The world of chado is so vast, and so deep, that nobody can know all there is to know about it.  As students, we are attracted to certain aspects and not others.   But every single teacher, sempai and student have taught me about the way of tea.  They have taught me sometimes without knowing that I was learning.   Even when I was not a good student and not paying attention in class, sensei would still try to teach me over and over again.  I'd copy my sempai in the mizuya and try to pay attention when they were explaining things to other students.

As a teacher, when a student is hungry like that, it is a joy to teach them.   Sometimes a comment in class will motivate a student to seek even more knowledge, skill or technique.  When students ask me for extra help, I always try to give them extra attention. I love the way of tea so much, that I want to share as much as I can with others who want to learn.  It is even inspiring to me to have a student who is motivated to learn.  By passing on what I know, the next generation of students will be able to carry on the tradition that love.

The hunded poems of Rikyu

I have been meaning to talk about the 100 teaching poems of Rikyu, (Rikyu Hyakushu) and indeed, there are references scattered throughout this blog to them; all you have to do is search on Rikyu, but I will attempt to post the 100 poems with some thoughts on each one, including one or more translations. I will tag them so that when you search on Rikyu Hyakushu, they will come up all together.

Often the first poem quoted is

その道にいらんと思ふ心こそ我身ながらの師匠なりけれ
Sono michi ni iran to omou kokokoro koso wagami nagara no shisho narikere

The very heart which wants to enter the way is the best teacher.

Alternatively,

To have the mind to enter this path is, indeed to have an inherent teacher.

I wrote about this poem previously: Who is the best teacher.

That is not to say that you know more than your sensei, or that you should tell your sensei what and how to teach you, but it is through your own desire to learn that you will come to know tea.  No matter how good a teacher you have, you will not learn it if you are not motivated. The way of tea is hard as is any endeavor worth pursuing your whole life.  You must have the heart and the mind to pursue the way of tea.

November preparations

The rain has started here in the Pacific Northwest and preparations are underway for Robiraki, one of the big tea events of the year.   We will be changing from the summer furo season to the winter hearth of the ro season. 

Usually it is around the first of November when we open the ro, but Rikyu said to open the ro when the yuzu turns yellow.  Yuzu is on of my favorite fruits, not for the fruit, but for the flavor and fragrance of the skin.   These smallish citrus ripen about this time of year and the skin is used to flavor sweets and garnish meals.  Unfortunately, we cannot get these fruits here.  I have a young yuzu tree, but it will be many years before it bears fruit. 

For tea people, Robiraki is the new year of tea.  Up until the opening of the chatsubo, we have been using last year's tea.  So the tea that was harvested in May has been aging in the chatsubo and will be taken out, ground and used for the first time in November.  The ceremony for this is called Kuchikiri and it often times will be done in conjunction with the opening of the ro at Robiraki. 

This opening of the ro and opening of the chatsubo also can be a spiritual opening, so quite often the scroll in the tokonoma will the the character "kan"  閑 for barrier or gate.  What ever difficulties you are having, what is stopping you from having what you want is a barrier.  But this kanji character also means gate.  It is the way through a barrier to the other side.

Your relationship with your fukusa part 3

I've had a request in the comments about how to tame your fukusa. So here is part 3 on your fukusa.

Historical Note: The size of the fukusa was decided by So-on, the wife of Rikyu. Until that time, a small cloth like the kobukusa was used. The story goes that when Rikyu traveled to the battlefield at Odawara his medicine was in a natsume wrapped in a larger cloth by So-on and he felt that this size might be better for tea and he began to use it from that time.

Taming the fukusa is letting the fukusa know what its job is.  When it is brand new, it still thinks that it is a doubled piece of cloth. When you first get a fukusa it is folded in fourths and often comes in a box and/or cellophane envelope.  This is how you want to store your fukusa after class, not folded in eighths or jammed into your fukusa basami.  Clean your fukusa of tea powder before you put it away.  You need to have a good relationship with your fukusa, so treat it gently.

To tame your fukusa you need to fold it and put it in your obi properly, take it out of your obi and fold it to purify the natsume, fold it to purify the chashaku, fold it to put it back in your obi and fold it to put in your kaichu (front of kimono) enough times that it won't spring open on you at inappropriate moments. Please ask your teacher to show you how to do this properly.  For experienced students, it is always good to review this periodically during warigeiko to correct your form and to review the proper way to do it.  At workshops for advanced students and teachers, this is one of the things everybody is required to review no matter how advanced.

I have some students who have trained their fukusa improperly and get confused when folding it because the fukusa is telling them to fold in a certain way that is not right.  In that case, you have to re-fold it enough times properly until it (you) understand(s) the correct way to do it.

How many times?  That depends on your fukusa and your relationship. For me, it is at least 30 times and I try to do it in front of a mirror so I can see my form as I am doing it. I was at an intensive workshop once and the visiting sensei told me that I had too much of a results oriented relationship with my fukusa.  In other words, I was concentrating too hard on getting to the end of the folding procedures and not taking enough time for each step of folding it.  My assignment from that workshop was to enjoy the feel of the silk, be present for each step in folding my fukusa and not let my mind and heart skip to the end result of purifying the utensil.

Poetry and Tea

I have added a link to my good friend Maggie Chula's blog.  She is an internationally published haiku poet and has just posted an excellent essay comparing renga and chaji. 

Citing many famous tea masters and their poetry, Maggie deftly weaves the two disciplines of Chado and Renga together in their principles and aesthetics.   In fact, many tea masters were accomplished poets.

Please go check it out and welcome her on her blog with your comments. 

The right way

"One learns by looking and studying.  Without understanding completely, one cannot criticize."  ~ from the 100 poems of Rikyu


We just had an intensive workshop here in Portland with Christy-sensei.  It is always inspiring and somewhat intimidating.   The format is one after another, students make tea for sensei and we often go from the very beginning procedures to the very highest in the space of about 3 days.  Or maybe in the reverse order, depending on the schedule. We all were studying our notes before she arrived, and sitting seiza at night watching TV to build up our strength for those 12 hour days sitting seiza.

We always have warigeiko, that is, back to the basics of folding the fukusa and purifying the utensils.  I always learn so much from this, even though I have been doing tea for many years.  Christy said that when the Gyotei came to San Francisco and he was teaching warigeiko, all he did was talk about posture.  Those finer points, points I knew and have forgotten, or have gotten sloppy at wore gone over and I retrained my body again.  Christy is so very good at giving honest feedback on form. That is also why tea cannot be learned from a book or by yourself with videos.   You need a teacher who can look at you and correct your form, placement, posture, and speed.  You need a teacher who will tell you to stop and take a breath.   A teacher will also tell you straighten your back or keep your focus on your non-working hand.

When I was in Japan, some teachers didn't teach as actively as teachers here in America.  One only watched you as you went through your temae and said not a word.  If you forgot or got lost, he just looked at you and it was up to you to struggle through to the end.  Another one would tell me that I was not doing it right, but did not tell me how to correct it, I had to figure it out. Boy those were some hard lessons, and yes, I do remember them much more vividly than if the teacher had just prompted and corrected me at the time.

I had a teacher who once said that the presence of the teacher is more important than the teaching itself. If  a student really wanted to learn the way of tea, they had to steal the knowledge.  By watching and paying attention was how one learned.

In America, sometimes students will question the teacher, especially if they have had other teachers in how to do a procedure. (or more recently saw something on video or Youtube)  My sempai taught me (rather severely) that whoever is teaching at the time is the right way to do it.   I have note books with notations (Christy sensei teaches this way, but Minako sensei teaches this way).  Even if the same teacher teaches something a little differently at a different time, it is still correct at the time the sensei is teaching.  

This is very hard for some people to grasp.  If there is a right way to do it, they want to know it and they want to know it will always be consistently right.   In Chado there is a right way to do things and we must learn it.  But there will always be some ambiguity in oral teaching and we must make the best of it as we can.  When we have the experience and understanding to judge, we can decide what is right for us.  Until then, the sensei teaching at the time is always right.   Just say "hai."

The heart of tea

Rikyu says:
The very heart which wants to enter the Way is the best teacher.

Sensei says:
Beginning teachers want to teach the heart of tea and lecture about it.  This is virtually impossible to do.  Don't get trapped into a romantic notion of tea .  You cannot define it for others.  Temae teaches the heart of tea itself. It is in the movement we discover ourselves.  You can't think your way there, you must use your body.

I sometimes have beginning students who are adverse to doing temae over and over again.   They think that if they have seen it a couple of times and done one or two, that they have learned it and want to go on to the next thing.  The thing is that they cannot remember the order of it unless I prompt them.  If they had to do it on their own, they would be lost. 

Recently a few of my students assisted me in a presentation of Chanoyu.  I was doing the explanation and one student was guest and the other host.   It was one of the first times that they both had to do everything on their own, and they learned so much by doing it without me to help them.   One student said it was like doing tea without a net -- scary and exhilarating at the same time. But they both said that they learned so much from just doing it.  

Some people say that tea is moving meditation.  If you can make tea according to the procedures without getting bored or sloppy and still remain aware of your surroundings and your guests, then you will have found the heart of tea.

Knowing contentment

The essence of Tea is knowing contentment. The Way of Tea is a means of knowing satisfaction with each and every thing.  If one knows contentment, when making tea, the less things there are, the greater the pleasure.  The more one knows about things and people, the more human one is. With this idea, even having insufficient utensils, one can delight in making tea.  Chanoyu  is the way which teaches contentment. It is just this contentment that is Rikyu's true intent.

~ Matsudaira Fumai (1751-1818) in the Tawagoto written when he was 20 years old.

Rikyu and the mud puddle

A chanoyu master named Hechikan living in Yamashina once criticized his contemporary Sen Rikyu as a black hearted flatterer striving to please men of high rank.  Hechikan tried to pretend not to be interested in pleasing such men and had even served cheap barley tea to Hideyoshi at the Grand Open-Air Chanoyu party in Kitano Shrine.  Nevertheless, Hechikan was proud of the fact that Hideyoshi had praised his insolence as a "tasteful idea."

One summer day Hechikan invited Rikyu to tea in his hermitage at Yamashina.  Rikyu suspected some trick had been planned for he had heard rumors of Hechikan's criticism, but if he refused the invitation it would only add more fuel to the fire.  He decided to go and fall into the trick on purpose to see what fun he could have, so he proceeded to Hechikan's house pretending not to be skeptical of his host's motives.

As he approached the gate Rikyu spied a big, freshly dug mud puddle hidden on the path.  He deliberately walked into the puddle and let out a shriek.  Hechikan ran out feigning surprise and showed the mud-splattered Rikyu into the bath with profuse apologies.  Rikyu stretched out and relaxed in the bathtub thinking Hechikan probably planned to give him tea afterward.  It was very quiet in Yamashina that midsummer afternoon.  He closed his eyes and listened to the cicadas incessantly chirring in the persimmon tree by the bathroom window.  The bath water was perfect -- neither too hot nor too cold -- and gradually Rikyu began to fee sleepy.  He wanted to take a nap without being interrupted and tea didn't matter to him any more.  Hechikan's foolish trick was forgotten.  In fact, he felt like thanking Hechikan for the trick for he got to enjoy an unexpected respite of comfort and relaxation through it.

Later one of his disciples asked Rikyu why he had intentionally fallen into the pit and speculated that it had been a kind of obedience to Hechkan's will.  Rikyu answered that it wasn't obedience, but he had not wanted Hechikan's planning and scheming to be fruitless.

From the book Unpyo Zasshi, by Kien Yanagisawa (1706-1758) and artist and literatus of his time.

It is sometimes good to drop our adult pretensions and rivalries and enter into a spirit of childhood where feelings are expressed more openly so that we can finally laugh heartily with each other.  Our present affluent society impresses us with the belief that material accumulation s the goal of human life.  We forget to enjoy times of pleasure because of all the pressures on our lives.  We get caught up in our games of competition with other adults.  We neglect other people and their feelings and our only concern is to return insult with insult and unkindness with unkindness.  We can learn much from this sotry of Rikyu and the mud puddle.

~Sen Soshitsu XV

The favored style

Konomimono literally means favored things. It is a general term for tea items that owe their designs to eminent chanoyu masters, including all the successive heads of the various chanoyu families. The fact that a certain item is a certain person's konomimono is described, for example, as Rikyu-gonomi, or favored by Sen Rikyu. Besides utensils, konomimono extends to such things as sweets, and matcha tea blends. The tea blend is given a poetic name by the chanoyu master whose kononmimono it is. For example, the tea "kashin no mukashi" or auspicious era, by Kanbayashi is a Zabosai konomi. That is, it is favored by Zabosai, present generation grand tea master of the Urasenke school.

This winter we have been using the Yoshino-dana.  It is a tana or tea shelf for displaying tea utensils with one upper shelf and four posts.  It is an Ennosai-gonomi.  Ennosai is the 13th generation grand tea master of the Urasenke school.  Ennosai got the idea for this tana from the round windo of a tearoom used by the famous courtesan, Yoshino Dayu (1606-1643).  The posts are very thin logs of Yoshino cypress.  On the guests' side, a round window is cut in the panel, while on the other side, a small removable panel of shoji is inserted in the winter, and a panel of reeds in the summer.  Across the bottom of the back is a strip of wood with a comb shaped cutout.  The tana is finished in Tame nuri, a rich red-brown lacquer. After the lacquer has been applied the artist has cut the corners of the legs back to the wood. The upper shelf measures approximately 33 cm square and overall the height is 47.2 cm.  There is a bamboo peg at the top of the front left post, for hanging a haboki (feather duster), shifuku (silk pouch) or hishaku (bamboo water scoop).

Here is the Yoshinodana displayed in the furo season.  I love this tana because it allows the guests to see the mizusashi and in the summer it changes its character when you put the reed screen in the left side instead of shoji. With the hanging peg you can display a number of utensils so that the guests can enjoy them. You can see in the photo above,  the hishaku hanging on the peg, and the futaoki (lid rest) is displayed on the bottom shelf to the front left of the mizusashi.  When the host comes back into the room to refill the mizusashi, the futaoki must be removed and put on the tatami. Then the mizusashi can be brought all the way out of the tana and set on the tatami before it can be refilled. 

A close up of the bamboo hanging peg.  The skin is still left on the peg and it faces up.

Before Rikyu

Before Sen Rikyu there was tea and before Bach there was music.
~Hisashi Yamada

The microcosm of the tea room

Sensei says: How you are in the tea room is how you are in the world.

Haji o sute hito ni mono toi naraubeshi kore zojozu no motoi narikeru
A person must discard all embarrassment when training in tea, this is the foundation of mastery.
~ from Rikyu's 100 poems

Every time we step into the tea room, it is a microcosm of how we are in the world.

As I observe myself in the tea room, am I impatient, bored, eager, timid, attentive? Am I selfish, critical, generous? Do I treat others with respect? Do I show off? Try to compete? Question others? How do I treat correction and criticism? How do I handle mistakes?

"In a certain place for practice of the way of tea,
there hangs a plaque the reads:
'A Place Making a Shameful Show of Oneself.'
Once you pass through the entrance way,
you will experience no shame,
no matter how shameful a show you may make of yourself.
The practice room is where you are trained as a human,
even as you are sharply scolded
and hesitate to humiliate yourself in the process.
The principal aim of your training is to enable you,
when the time comes,
to perform tea splendidly and without shame.
This is the reason why all those who pass through the entrance way
of this place are prepared to endure severe discipline.
For it is in this way that
they gradually develop fine characters as people.
They cannot achieve this simply by reading books
and listening to others.
They must experience it with their own bodies."

~ Sen Soshitsu XV, The Spirit of Tea

Just dye your heart with Chanoyu

During the Friends in Tea conference, there were two formally scheduled chakai, the opening chakai the first day and the closing chakai on the last day. In between, there was what they called open chakai. The tatami mat room upstairs at the guest house at Dai Bosatsu was divided in half and people could sign up to make tea, drink tea or help in the mizuya.

Many participants brought tea utensils to be used at these open chakai, and with the sweet making workshops going on, we always had plenty of sweets. Wild flowers were growing in abundance and thanks to Jan, the mizuya cho, tea and everything was available to put on chakai.

You could also put together impromptu chakai outside, in the meeting room, on the terrace or on the dock over the lake. More than a few people brought chabako, and there was always an early morning chakai in the woodshed.

I would say that there were about 10 scheduled chakai a day in the tatami room and at least 2-3 more chakai that you could attend in other places. And still, I couldn't get enough of making and drinking tea.

"Don't look with your eyes or cock your ears to listen, just dye your heart with Chanoyu . Look with your eyes and listen with your ears, smell incense and grasp their meaning with questions." ~ from Rikyu's 100 poems.

*Photo courtesy of Morgan Beard

Chabako, tea anywhere

It was a little early for me to sit zazen at 4:30 am with the monks, but I did get up for the 6:00 Chabako tea that was planned for that morning. We were to have tea on the dock out on the lake, but it was pouring rain. The wood shed was the alternate location and among the resiny smell of the newly cut and stacked wood we had tea. With a thermos and chabako, tea can be anywhere, no need of tatami room.

The sound of the rain on the roof of the woodshed soothed us and as I sat there drinking tea, listening to the host and guest talk about the tea and utensils, I felt a profound sense of belonging, of coming home to be with people of my own family (tribe) where I could talk about tea, drink tea, be immersed in tea and not be thought crazy or obsessed.

I also was reminded again of an essential tea lesson: The best laid plans will somehow be altered and it is best to remain flexible, rely on your training and go with the flow. Oh yes, and it is always good to make alternate plans. As Rikyu said, "Prepare for rain."

Shoburo

May is when we change to the summer season in tea. The fire is moved from the sunken hearth to the furo or brazier, to the left side of the temaeza away from the guests. It makes sense in the winter we want the fire closer to the guests to warm them, and in the summer we want the fire away from the guests. The first time we prepare tea this way is called shoburo.

It is amazing how we are creatures of habit. The change from ro or winter season to the furo or summer season can be very disconcerting for students. Suddenly the way you have been making tea is backwards because the fire and the cold water are now switched from right to left. Handling the hishaku or water scoop is different. I always feel like a beginner again after the change of seasons. After many years, I look forward to the change.

When I was in Kyoto, one sensei said that in Rikyu’s time, “When the yamabuki flower blooms it was time to close the ro and move to the furo. When the yuzu turns yellow it time open up the ro in the autumn.” Rather than go by the calendar, tea people would go by the seasonal changes. I looked up what the yamabuki looks like and here is a picture of the yamabuki in bloom.

The scientific name for yamabuki is Kerria Japonica. It literally means "mountain breath". These bright yellow flowering bushes grow wild all over Japan, especially favoring riversides and gorges. Other translations are "Mountain rose, wild rose, Easter rose". The flowers have five petals, while the doublel-flowering looks like a pompom with many petals. They paint whole mountain ranges in bright yellow in late spring. Since olden times, these flowers have been a part of Japanese poetry, especially the Manyo'shu and the Tale of Genji. The bright yellow has been used to describe the yellow color of gold, especially the gold plates of Japanese money during the Edo period.

Acquiring tea utensils part 2

Many of my students are at a point of acquiring tea utensils. With ebay and the internet it is relatively easy to get tea stuff from Japan. A tea bowl for $10, a chabako set for $25 including shipping from Japan, a natsume for $5. They can all be had on ebay or online if you look hard are patient and bid at the right time. One might justify buying things because they are cheap and just for study.

But getting the best bargain isn’t the point of owning tea utensils. Sure, you can get a lot of stuff right now, but Rikyu says “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). Every tea utensil you acquire is a reflection of your heart. It is a big public statement and responsibility when you hold your chakai or chaji. Before purchasing, consider what statement about yourself your guests will take away when they view your piece. Rikyu also said, “Having one kettle you can make tea; it is foolish to possess many utensils.”

Buying utensils from ebay leaves much to be desired, such as the relationship you might have with the person who made it or owned it previously. Often the stories we can tell about a utensil are lost, and it seems to be so awkward during haiken when the guests ask about it to say, “I know nothing about this, I bought it on ebay.”

It was perhaps 3 years into my study of tea before I purchased my first teabowl. It was not easy to find one and I looked for a long time. I consulted with my sensei before I purchased it at an antique store. I knew nothing about its maker or history, but it was a very nice bowl. It was a little more than I could afford, and I gave a chakai for my sensei as a thank you for helping me. We used the bowl at the chakai and sensei really liked it. She said that it had presence and taste.

After the chakai, I carefully wrapped the bowl in a furoshiki because it did not have a box. When I got home, I dropped the chawan in the driveway and it shattered into dust. I only got to use the bowl one time. Ichigo, ichie (one lifetime, one meeting). So don’t get too attached to tea utensils, they are just things.

Reduce, reuse, recyle and repair

“There was a Chajin of Sakai who had a tea caddy called Sessan and he used it when Rikyu came. But Rikyu thought nothing of it so its owner smashed it against the trivet on the hearth. Another guest took away the pieces and put them together again and gave a chaji to which he invited Rikyu. This time the master praised the caddy, so the host returned it to its former owner and told him to take great care of it. Later on someone bought it for a thousand pieces of gold, and noticing that the joins were very rough proposed to have it mended again more neatly and submitted it to Kobori Enshu for his opinion. “If you do that you will spoil it altogether,” was his decision, “for that was just why Rikyu liked it.” ~from Cha-no-yu, by A.L. Sadler

Today in our disposable society, when something is broken, we toss it out without even thinking about it. Technology and planned obsolescence makes it cheaper and more convenient to throw things out and buy new ones, especially with more features, bells and whistles on it. I had a VCR and it stopped working one day. I took it to a repair shop and the guy told me that it wasn’t worth fixing because it would cost me $150, when I could go a buy a new one with a more sophisticated remote control gizmos for $49.00. I was told my old sewing machine (1940s model) was worth less than $15, and yet it costs $85 for a cleaning and adjustment. The technician told me to junk it because he’d likely spend at least a month trying to track down a similar model so he could cannibalize parts for it as it is no longer manufactured and I would end up paying him for his time as well. I have two or three old cell phones that worked fine until the cell phone company no longer supported them and I had to upgrade to a new one.

But, going green, there is a consciousness of not just recycling, but repair and reusing things that were broken, discarded or no longer usable. Just like the depression of my parent’s era, in this economic climate, there are more people who see repairing things as a way to save money, and get more use out of what you already have. It may be even cool again to be known as the guy who can repair anything. There is even a site that seeks to make repair the fourth ‘R’: reduce, reuse, recycle, and repair. The repair manifesto.


In my classes we are learning chabako (traveling tea set). I have a set with matching ceramics with a bamboo desgin, but the chakin tsutsu (wiping cloth tube) met the floor rather violently last week and was shattered into many pieces. In the spirit of Rikyu’s guest, I gathered as many pieces as I could find and repaired with a little gold powder in the joints. Now I have a chakin tsutsu that no longer matches the set, but has an interesting story.