Sunken hearth in elevated table

The art of the thank you note

As a child, my mother sat me down when I received any gift or attended any event to write a thank you note.  It was drilled into me that I MUST acknowledge what someone else had done for me by a hand-written thank you note.  That training has stood me in good stead.   It is very seldom these days that we receive a thank you note from anyone.  It is so unusual that I have received thank you notes for sending a thank you note.

As part of the etiquette of attending a chakai, the thank you note from the guest to the host after the event is essential.  I have written and received many, many thank you notes and there is an art to writing a thank you note.

As you can see from the example above, the thank you note doesn't have to be very long.  This example is very sophisticated and perfect for the occasion.

After the greeting, there is an acknowledgement of what the person is thanking you for.  The next sentence is making a specific comment about what the person enjoyed, and how they enjoyed it. The next comment is something that they learned that they didn't know before, and finally how the event affected them.  Closing we have another expression of thank you (in Japanese!) and a simple sincere closing with signature.

As  you can see, it is a handmade card. If you have an appropriate card, please use it.  A handmade card will do just fine.  A blank paper will do as well.  You just need to take the time, and address it, put a stamp on it and send it off.

Here is another example of a thank you note I received for Hatsugama:

Dear Margie
It was such a wonderful Hatsugama chakai this afternoon., and I feel calmness settling in my heart as I reflect on the gathering.  I'm fortunate to be surrounded by treasures of tea friends and wonderful tea utensils.  The Spring Bulb bears much energy to grow, I look forward to pursuing Chado together and growing further.  Thank you for setting a springboard, gracefully prepared, for me take the great first step of the new year.
Best regards,

The author of this thank you note incorporated the theme and names of the utensils into the thank you note.  Spring bulb was the shape of the chaire, and "first step" was the gomei of the chashaku. It shows that the guest was paying attention and how it affected them.

Please do not waste time in sending your thank you note.  Sit right down after the event (as the author above did right after the event. I received this in the mail the very next day).   If you have procrastinated more than a week in writing your thank you note, do not just forget about it. Sit down and write it now.

Finally, for those who struggle for words on paper,  it is the thought that counts. Write what is in your heart. A sincere thank you is the most appreciated.

Precious Resources

We are blessed in the Pacific Northwest with abundant, clean and good tasting water. We can drink our fill straight from the tap to quench our thirst without bad smells or off taste.  But recently the city of Portland had an alert that e coli was found in the water system and everyone was advised to boil water before drinking, brushing teeth or cooking. It happened during our 35th anniversary event, but at home as well I was reminded what a convenience good, clean water is straight from the tap.

When I was at Midorikai, our final chaji was at a tea room with no running water.  That meant we had to go the the well in the morning and haul two five gallon containers up the hill to the tea house.  Believe me, hauling 5 gallons in kimono uphill is a lot of work.  These 10 gallons were all we had to pre-wash everything, boil the water for tea, water the garden, and fill the tsukubai.  We were very careful with every bit of water and made sure that nothing was wasted. 

It is the same thing with matcha.  We are fortunate to have the convenience of pre-ground tea leaves sealed in an airtight container.  It takes about an hour to grind enough tea for a chaji, so I am sure that if I had to grind it myself, that I would be very careful about spilling and wasting the matcha when I sifted it or transferred it from one container to the another. 

We forget that these things: water, tea, electricity -- are all convenience factors. Part of living the way of tea is to recognized that most of what we use are precious resources and be very careful not to waste anything.  It is good for the environment, good for the planet, good for each other and good for our souls.

My First Big Chakai

I would like to introduce a guest blogger, one of my newer students, David.  He generously agreed to write a post about his experience of our recent 35th Anniversary Chakai in Portland, Oregon. 

As I write this, I’m sitting in my sunny tea nook, surrounded by special gifts, each of which is in some way connected with tea.

To my left sits a tiny ceramic frog on a tiny ceramic watermelon, which — after being soaked in water — will spit when you pour hot tea on it.  This was given to me by a friend I met through my love of puer.  Next to it is a lovely Persian jar made of embossed, enameled metal, given to me by a friend I met through practicing the Taiwanese Wu-Wo Tea Ceremony.

To my right, I’m burning incense that was a gift from my Sensei in a holder that was a gift from one of my Senpei, Michelle.

And, at the center of my tea table, I have a beautiful ceramic bowl, all earth- and water-tones, dappled both in its glaze, and with afternoon sunlight filtered through leaves.

This bowl was given to me at Urasenke Tankokai Portland’s 35th Anniversary Celebration.  And to me, the bowl feels like an emblem of the generosity that is at the core of the Spirit of Tea, as well as of the care, consideration, and thoughtful attention to detail with which that whole event was imbued.

The Preparations

I’d never been to a chakai of this size before, let alone helped plan one, so it was fascinating to get a tiny glimpse into the shocking amount of work and preparation that goes into creating a peaceful, easy environment for each and every guest.

Margie Sensei always tells us students that you face yourself in the tearoom, and I’ve been on the lookout for The Thing that will be my personal Oni to face.  When we started gearing up for this event, I thought I might have found it in the form of Big, Public Tea Events.

At the planning and practice meeting I attended prior to the big day, I had the experience of being a foreigner in my own city — at a loss linguistically, culturally, and in terms of how I could possibly be of any use to this endeavor.

Much of the spoken and written communication that day was in Japanese.  I felt disoriented, and wondered not only if I would come away with any more insight than that with which I’d arrived, but also if I would have any idea what I was supposed to do at the time of the actual event.

By the end of the day, however, I felt reassured.  After the practice set-up, and the primary meeting, we broke up into our assigned work groups.  I’d be in the mizuya for Ryurei.

Margie Sensei helped me figure this out, as well as who and where my fellow workers were.  When I joined them, I was relieved to find that none of us knew what was going on with perfect clarity, but — together — we figured it all out.  My mizuya cho, Ouchida Sensei, asked me if I could whisk tea.  I said I could, with a feeling of near-elation that I might actually be able to do something worthwhile, and she told me, “Good!  That’s what you’ll do.”  It was decided.

The Chakai

As one of the lowliest members of our Tankokai, very little of the overall burden fell on my shoulders.  But, when the big day arrived, I found that the event was so carefully crafted that I ended up feeling my small jobs were truly significant.

Along with making tea in the Ryurei mizuya, I had been assigned the post of greeting guests at the roadway, to make sure they knew where to turn.  The turn was a lot harder to miss if there was someone in kimono standing there with a look of anticipation.  (It was also fun to watch the faces of other drivers as they passed, staring quizzically, or doing full-on double-takes.)

 

Once I’d guided the last of the guests into the lovely, winding drive, my Sempai, Sean, came and brought me back down to the venue, where we workers all dispersed to our stations to prepare for tea.

My mizuya ran very smoothly under Ouchida Sensei’s direction, and I even got some useful instruction to take back with me into my own practice.  We stood preparing sweets plates, and whisking bowl after bowl of tea for the guests at Ryurei.  Between warming bowls, we could catch a fleeting glimpse or two of the people we were serving, as well as hear snatches of David Sensei’s thoughtful tea room greetings and discussion of the tokonoma and dogu.

There were at least four seatings scheduled in our room, and I’d been a little worried about us workers’ ability to get a lunch break.  I needn’t have been; it all worked smoothly into the schedule, and we got to enjoy the buffet that had been laid out for our guests in a little nook set aside just for us.

 

To be honest, much of the setup, service, and breakdown of the actual chakai passed in a bit of a blur. We were each focused on our jobs, and on the comfort of our guests, which is just as it should be. However, after tea had ended, and we were well on our way to having the rooms returned to their original state  (what a magical transformation that had been!), I got the chance to join my sempai Stephanie and Michelle for a stroll around the lovely grounds of the place we’d selected for the event. There were ponds, connected under a wooden bridge, in which a pair of swans had taken up residence.  There were ancient looking evergreens, and rhododendrons in full-bloom.  The honey locusts were snowing their white petals down on us, and I think each of us had the chance to really breathe in the tranquility of the place.

The Banquet

Along with the chakai, I had chosen to take part in the banquet at Portland City Grill.  And — again — I became a bit nervous; this time because it turned out I’d be the only one of my cohort of students attending.

And — again — I had nothing to worry about.  Every aspect of the evening had been built around our comfort, and the celebration of the occasion.  There was food and drink ready for us when we arrived; a beautiful, expansive view of Portland and its surrounds; and friendly faces ready to include me in the warm mood.

Once all the guests had arrived, we found our seats, and found that our seating arrangements had been given the same care as everything else.  I had only met one or two of my table mates once or twice before, but by the end of the night, we were laughing and sharing stories like we’d known each other for years.

I was so proud to be Margie Sensei’s student as I watched her dispatch her duties as our Master of Ceremonies for the evening.  She set a wonderful tone, gave warm introductions to our special guests, and took care of all the logistics and other announcements that needed to be conveyed.

We had several very special speakers: Senior members of our own organization, sharing their love for the tea and community that chadō provides, and passing down precious bits of our history to younger students such as myself; the Consul General of Japan for Portland, who gave a very heartfelt speech, telling of his own relationship with tea and Japan; and a representative from the Urasenke foundation and Oiemoto, who gave a lovely talk of her own, and presented us with generous sentiments and a generous gift from Iemoto himself.

At the end of the evening, Margie Sensei led a few of us in thanking and bowing our guests on their way as they left.  Far from feeling I’d been useless (or worse), I came away with the feeling I’d contributed to a really special day for a great number of people, a day they could remember fondly as they went about their lives.  And as I sit here, warming a teapot in my simple, beautiful bowl, it occurs to me that this is exactly the reason I’m spending my time and energy to learn these complex and eternal procedures: It’s so I can give people I care about the simple, ephemeral, but somehow enduring pleasure of a bowl of tea.

In memory of

Meanwhile behind the scenes.....

Take home gift

For Minako sensei

Minako sensei passed away 10 years ago today.  It was devastating at the time, and I felt unconnected and motherless.  I can hardly believe that 10 years have passed and yet it seems like she has been gone forever.  I am a teacher now, and that is what Minako sensei wanted for me.  But, oh, do I miss her every time I step into the tea room.  I am grateful to her for teaching me and encouraging me and instilling in me a love for the way of tea.  I cannot imagaine a life without it. In gratitude we will celebrate Minako sensei with a chakai this weekend.  I have been planning it for months, planning for 10 years....

Tea Ceremony for One

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.

The tea tasted so bitter that day.

Remembering winter chakai

I remember one of the most memorable chakai was at the Japanese Garden in Winter.   The snow was softly falling and it was only the host and I.  The scroll hanging in the tokonoma read,  "Everything's important, nothing really matters."

He had opened up all of the windows to the tea house and made tea in the cold. We could see the clouds of our own breath and soon we were breathing in unison.    The world was silent and we could only hear the sound of the kettle -  matsu kaze -- sound of the wind in the pines.  We sat in the tea room, watching the snow fall onto the moss in the garden and holding onto our bowls of tea to warm our hands. Max didn't like to say much, and grumbled when there were too many guests, but it was only me and him that day, sitting in silence, drinking tea, watching the snow fall, listening to the sound of the kettle.

Chado: The Way of Tea in Oregon

Tim McRobert produced a half hour documentary about Chado: The Way of Tea in Oregon. It will be broadcast on Oregon Public Broadcasting cable this Sunday. It was shot at the Portland Japanese Garden and various tea rooms around the Portland area.
. 
Issoan Tea School is one of the groups featured in the film.You will see students making tea, kimono dressing and ceramics discussion on the film. I hope you enjoy it.

It airs Sunday, September 2 at 8:30 on OPB plus.  For those of you on FIOS Frontier it's channel 470 and those on Comcast I think  it is on 310.  Check your local listings. 

Working together

I'd like to take this opportunity to acknowledge one of my huge supporters, Barbara Walker.  Barbara and I have shared our love for the way of tea  for more than 30 years. She and I studied with Minako sensei for 20 years, before she passed away. We help each other with Chado presentations, classes and she is my substitute teacher when I am out of town. And she is an excellent Shokyaku. 

Working with Barbara is like having someone who can read my mind.  I'll tell you a story:   We put on a chakai for Minako-sensei's seven year memorial.   The first seki was supposed to be at 10:00. We were going to meet at 8:00 am to prepare the tea house.  Barbara was bringing most of the special utensils we had picked for the occasion.  She also was bringing the sweets.

I arrived at the Japanese Garden tea house a little after 8:00 am and started cleaning.  I put on the hot water, swept, mopped and wiped down the mats. 8:30 no Barbara.   I hung the scroll and arranged the flowers.  I put out the tsukubai and watered the garden.  9:00, still no Barbara.  I unpacked the furo, and filled the kettle with hot water, 9:15 and no Barbara.  I wiped down the koshikake machiai.  Guests were due to arrive in 20 minutes.

Finally at 9:30 Barbara arrived with the utensils and the sweets.  The two of us got to work unpacking, arranging, filling,  preparing and had everything else ready for the chakai in time to greet our first guests.  Not a word was spoken  between the time she arrived and the final "Yoroshiku onegai itashimasu"  before she opened the door to the tea house and stepped into the garden.


This wonderful lady with a true tea heart, donated to Issoan Tea School kaiseki dogu that had previously  belonged to Minako-sensei.   She wanted my students to be able to use these things and pass on to them some part of Minako-sensei.   Thank you Barbara, we all appreciate everything you do.  We will use these things and think of both you and Minako-sensei.  She would be proud to know how well we work together and support each other.

Yuto and ladle for the burnt rice course

Two black lacquer serving trays

Cedar hassun tray for serving food from the mountain and food from the sea.

Unlacquered hana ita, flower board for unglazed vases in the tokonoma.

Cicada's Cry

We have been talking about poetic names and the sounds of the Japanese summer.  The Japanese cicada or semi are a ubiquitous part of the soundscape in summer.  Different species, I guess hatch at different times so there are different songs throughout the summer. 

I remember trying to fall asleep in Kyoto and the semi being so loud that one night I opened my window and shouted "SHUT UP" at the semi and it got quiet for about ten or 15 seconds, then quietly, "meep, meep, meep, Meep,.Meep, MEEP, MEEP" louder and louder again.




There are some that sound like rain showers:  Semi shigure





But sometimes they just sing in the evening with an evocative song:



And this one sounds very sad or plaintive

Michael Kenna in Hokkaido

I took the photo above rather in tribute to Michael Kenna. He is one of my favorite photographers.  He first came to my attention about 15 years ago, and I have been following his career ever since.  He works exclusively in Black and White film.  His photos are a meditation just to look at and remind me strongly of black and white sumie paintings.

I actually got to meet him in Seattle and he signed my first edition of his book, Japan. It came in a beautiful black silk slipcase with an embossed kanji for Nihon on the outside.  Inside the book cover is rising sun red with a simple white JAPAN on the outside.  As part of the exhibition, you were given a clipboard and paper and encouraged to write haiku as you went around the gallery to view the photos.


He has done much more work since then, in France, San Francisco, England and all of them very much in the same style.  I have several of his calendars that I turn over and over again.  You can see more if his work here.  And if you are so moved to purchase and support this artist, his publisher is Naraeli Press where you can purchase a calendar for this year.

He has returned over and over again to Japan, especially in winter and has published other books based on the Japanese landscape, most recently Hokkaiko.   Also here is an interview with Michael Kenna talking about filming in Hokkaido in the winter.  Enjoy

Season's Greetings

Season's Greetings to all of my students and followers and families.  Here's to a peaceful Christmas, end of the year celebrations and prosperity in the new year.

Rennovations complete at Issoan Tea Room

To my readers, I apologize for the lapse in blogging this last month.  I will do better going forward.

For those of you who have emailed me asking if I was going to continue blogging and if I am okay, thank you and yes, I am okay just very busy this summer.

I thought that I would post some photos of the newly rennovated Issoan Tea Room:

 

This is the entry way into the tea room

 

Awning detail

Door handle detail

Tea room interior

Fusuma door detail

Shoji Window and detail

Overhead shoji lamp

I would like to express my gratitude to my design and construction manager, my husband.  As you can see, he does beautiful work. It was his ideas to take the old book of tea utensils apart and apply them to the fusuma.  He also wanted to incorporate the piece of wood given to us in the door and door handle.  And the shoji lamp with its curved supports are all his own design and execution.   Thank you so much.

Thank you also to my students who were patiently waiting for the tea room to be done.  We can now have classes here again.