Ieyasu words of wisdom

"Life is like walking along a long road shouldering a heavy load; there is no need to hurry.

One who treats difficulties as the normal state of affairs will never be discontented.

Patience is the source of eternal peace; treat anger as an enemy.

Harm will befall one who knows only success and has never experienced failure.

Blame yourself rather than others.

It is better not to reach than to go too far."

-~Precepts on the secret of success in life drafted by Tokugawa Ieayasu 1604 from the collection of en:Nikkō Tōshō-gū.

Do your best

I was recently talking with a friend who was working on a project for work.  Her heart was not in it and she was just putting in the minimal effort, which made the project drag out.  Every day she would go to work and there would be the project waiting for her.  I asked her how much time it would take if she really put her best into it.  "Oh probably a day and a half" she said.  I thought, why not put your best into it, get it done and then you wouldn't have to dread going to work for next two to three weeks.

It doesn't matter what the task is, do your best.  I recommend this article written years ago "Focus on the Journey," by Tom Peters, author of "In Search of Excellence."  Satisfaction can be found even on the most mundane tasks if your mind set is making everyday an adventure in pursuing excellence in everything you do.

From SweetPersimmon

It makes this scroll "nichi nichi kore kojitsu" even more profound and uplifting.  Every day is a good day. Every day is a good day to do your best, to improve your life, to live an adventure, to pursue excellence. 

What is the best way to have a happy fulfilling life?  Do your best, everyday.

10 things I learned at Midorikai

I look back on my time at Midorikai and I thought about what I had learned there. Some of the lessons I learned there have nothing to do with tea and yet they have everything to with tea and life.I am still striving to put these into practice every single day.

1. Be open to the experience that life presents to you. Say yes more often than no. Opportunities may not look like what you expected or wished for.
2. Be thankful everyday for the life you have. Gratitude, even for your troubles because they help you grow.
3. Be kind to other people. It doesn't take anything away from you to encourage, listen closely, say something nice or do something for someone.
4. Do your best, all the time. You cannot live life at half-speed, there simply is not enough time.
5. Leave something for people who follow you. If you develop knowledge or expertise, pass it on. It does no good if it dies with you.
6. The people you don't get along with are your teachers. At the minimum, it is good training for you to learn how to handle people and situations you don't like.
7. Excuses are a waste of time.
8. Be generous. You will be amazed at how much comes back to you.
9. Be careful about acquiring things. The more you own the less space you have. What you buy or accumulate says a lot about you.
10. Learn to let go. Of grudges, of mistakes, of behaviors that don't serve you, of people who are no longer good for you.

Sensei says. . .

Wa, kei, sei, jaku: harmony, respect, purity
and tranquility

Many of these sayings have appeared in the blog before, and students will recognize many of them from my own teachings. I have gathered them together to best of my recollection.  I hope you can add your own "sensei says" in the comments.

The term “sensei” has been translated as “teacher.” Quite literally from the kanji, the term “sensei” means “one who was born before.”  If there is great wisdom, it is gained through life experience and wisdom imparted by their “sensei” born before them, going back through 400 years of Tea tradition.

My apologies to sensei for any mistakes due to the differences in Japanese and American culture and language. I am glad that someone was born before me to point the way. These words of wisdom, were spoken to me in class rooms and tea practice rooms by sensei who cared enough to help me develop in Tea and in life.

On life and Tea:

Wa, kei, sei, and jaku are easy in the tea room.  The hard part is making it essential in the rest of your life.
Tea becomes much more than a hobby or social event.  It becomes a lifestyle.
Tea becomes the yardstick with which you measure your life.
The attitude of gratitude is essential.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. Complete this moment before going on to the next.
Don’t expect, just adjust.
Tea is where you realize your own religious beliefs.
What makes us uncomfortable makes us stronger.
People who endure hardship in life become tougher, like misshapen charcoal, they last longer than those with an easy life who burn out quickly.
Tea is movement.  It gets us out of our heads, into our bodies, so we can touch our souls.

On learning:

You can not learn Tea by reading a book. You learn Tea by training your body and to do it well, you must do it at least a thousand times.
Every time you do Tea, you learn something about yourself, even though you may have done it many, many times before.
Tea is not a thing to learn from teachers. The things you seek are already within you.
The existence of the teacher is more important than what he/she says, does or writes.
Learn with more than your brain. Observe, train your body, ask your spirit and relate to your guest.
Before you ask your teacher a question, look and observe.  Try to figure it out on your own. You learn so much more that way.

On making mistakes:

You can do nothing right in class, but in chaji (formal tea gathering)you can do nothing wrong.
If you are going to make a mistake, make it beautifully.
There is no going back, just move forward.
There is no such thing as the perfect temae (procedure for making tea). Doing it perfectly is not the heart of Tea. Doing it as if it was the first time, finding interest and excitement like finding interst in your life, to avoid being jaded, that is the true heart of Tea.
The Tea room is a place where we abandon shame. Do not be afraid to make mistakes if you want to learn.

On form:

When you have mastered the forms, then you become free from the forms.
Learn the kata (form).  When you know it thoroughly it becomes your katachi (style).
The body learns the form: it learns the discipline until it goes beyond the rules and becomes natural.
First master the form. The form is a vessel for the content.  You need a strong vessel to hold what goes inside or it leaks away.

On training:

Awareness is not concentration.  Tea is training in awareness
Tea training also teaches us how to receive.
Every time you make a bowl of Tea, it is not practice Tea it is the real Tea.
In training for Tea heart and spirit, as you gain maturity, learning and knowledge, the rules and guidelines change into a total experience of life.
The most difficult training is not temae, but to watch your mind and your behavior when you encounter nasty tasks and people.
Every difficulty you encounter is good training for you.

On doing the work:

Do the work. Tea is not for the lazy.
There are no trivial tasks in Tea.
There are no shortcuts in Tea.
Cleaning is 80% of Tea.
No matter how accomplished you get to be in Tea, cleaning the toilet is always the host’s job.
The mizuya (preparation room)should be clean enough to eat off the floor.
The mizuya (preparation) work should be done as if it is temae (tea making procedure).
It is your own responsibility to get to the heart of Tea.
With Tea, we are sitting on a mountain of jewels, but you must do the work and dig them out yourself.
You should do everything right because it is the right thing to do.

Letting go

"Some people think that holding on is what makes them strong. Sometimes it is letting go."

Last year my father passed away and last weekend his longtime companion passed also. I am still at a loss after caring for my father for 10 years, and getting to know his companion in that time.  They were a quite a couple and now they are gone. I  keep asking myself what more I could have done, but letting go of that, I can return to happier memories.

I recently had to end a relationship. I had not known this person for very long and I thought that she shared my enthusiasms, but I had come to find out that we disagreed quite radically.  I was willing to agree to disagree, but she wanted to convince me that she was right. The language that she used to convince me was quite disrespectful. I stewed for quite a while before confronting this person and she did not take it well. I am sad about letting it go, but in a way I feel unburdened about not having to defend myself every time we communicated.

I am comforted by this Zen scroll:
 
hanatsu no shizen  "Release this and everything will be of itself so"

This letting go is one of the hardest lessons for me. A lot of the time when we talk about not having desires, it relates to material things: bigger house, nicer car, the newest gadget.  But letting go of desires also means letting go of expectations, of the way things "should" be. 

"Everything will be of itself so"  or What is, is. Looking and accepting what is, rather than being disappointed for what isn't, or what I want it to be.

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door
And here I stand, and here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway

Seeing with the mind's eye

I went to a play the other night and the person next to me was recording it with their phone. Besides being annoying because the light from the phone was very bright in the darkened theater, the person recording it didn't really get to enjoy the play.  At the intermission, I asked this person why they were recording it, and they said that they wanted to share it with friends.

So rather than friends going to a live performance, one person records it so they can view it on a tiny screen as a virtual experience. Have we come to this, that the virtual experience trumps the actual experience?

Last week, we used the elevated tatami tables that Mr. SweetPersimmon made for us.  Because of where we set up the table, the sunlight came through the windows and illuminated the temaeza as the teishu was making koicha.  It was like a bright spotlight on the teabowl.  Imagine this: as the teishu scooped the tea and turned it out of the chaire, little poofs of the powdered tea arose from the center of the teabowl.  The chaire itself revealed a rainbow of colors in the glaze.  And even as the hishaku was steaming from the kettle, when the hot water was poured into the teabowl, it sparkled.  Inside the teabowl, you could see the intense green of the matcha as it was kneaded into an incredibly smooth and shiny thick tea.

Do you need a video to share this experience? I can replay this whenever I like, without a device. It is all in the mind's eye.

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.

Kids and the way of tea

I recently presented chanoyu to a group of third graders, that is 8 and 9 year olds at their classroom in Portland.  I had them pretend that they were Japanese students and they all stood up and said "Ohaiyo gozimasu, sensei" to their teacher, and they were very attentive and nearly silent during the 30 minute presentation.  We talked about wa, kei, sei and jaku: harmony, respect, purity, and tranquilty.  These kids got it:  Being nice to each other and getting along; please and thank you, wash your hands before you eat, and quiet time. 

They all waited with their sweet in front of them until I invited them to go ahead and eat your sweet.  And I passed a teabowl around the class and they were so careful in handling it, looking at the "face" of the bowl.  And what I loved was the questions, about Japan, Japanese students, my kimono, what the red cloth meant.  I really enjoyed myself.

The students got to taste mugi cha, since there isn't caffeine, but they got to see their teacher be a guest and drink the matcha, while they were silent "ghosts" just watching and observing. 

The best part of all, I received a packet of thank you notes, see a sample of them below:

You have just two hands

All those rows of tools
For cutting and chopping wood
You have just two hands

My husband is a woodworker and he has an impressive amount of tools in the shop for cutting and chopping wood.  From large table saws with impressive blades to tiny knives and files.  Yet he can only use his two hands cut wood at any one time.

Likewise, I have an impressive amount of tea utensils for making tea.  Yet, I can only  use my two hands to make tea.

When we are doing temae, we should be concentrating on one thing at a time.  Literally temae means the point in front of you.   Handling the utensils should take all of our attention.

There is a proper way to pick up, carry, and put down each utensil.  Each hand has its job to do and when it is not working, it has a proper place to be. Part of this is the mindfulness of keeping track of what we are doing.  Another part is that using the proper hand to do something sets you up for something after.  For example, if you pick up the bowl with your right hand you can immediately put it on your left palm. This also shows respect for the utensils and for the artists who created them.

If you are using two hands to handle or carry something, there is a greater attention to what you are handling.  When my children were small and I asked them to use two hands, they paid much more attention what they were doing (less spilled milk).  Likewise in the tea room, if you use two hands to handle something you are paying more attention to what you are doing. 

Even in the mizuya, it is no place to let our attention lapse.  Handle things with two hands. Pick them up and put them down properly.  Don't hand something directly to someone in the mizuya.  Put it down in front of them, and let them pick it up.  It is safer, and more attention is paid to what you are handling on both sides.

Last night, my husband asked me to hand him the TV remote.  I remember picking it up with my right hand, transferring it to my left hand, turning it around like a chashaku with my right hand and placing it directly in front of him.  He laughed, and told me only a tea person would have done that!

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.

Chokudai 2014 Shizuka

Every year, the Emperor of Japan chooses a theme, or Chokudai for the year.  Many artists create works of art, tea utensils commemorating the theme for the year.  For 2014, the theme is shizuka.  It will be interesting to see what artists come up with for shizuka.

My dictionary  defines the word as calm, quiet, still, tranquil, placid, silent, peaceful, serene, gentle, and soft.  Like many Japanese words, it is hard to find an English equivalent word that conveys the sentiment and meaning of it.  Especially in our culture, which seems to favor action words. The more contemplative words seem to get a more negative connotation, such as “placid,” which is defined as serenely free of interruption or disturbance.

In the modern world, we live in a “noisy” environment.  Smart phones, TV , radio, telephones, youtube;  everything seems to be tugging at our attention.  We need to be up to the minute in monitoring what is trending on Twitter, or what is posted on facebook, instagram, pinterest.  There is an ever increasing cacophony in our lives.

Without constant distraction, we begin to see what our lives are really about.  Without distraction, we have the time to reflect and think deeply about things.  Without distraction we can face ourselves honestly.  Perhaps that is why there is a rise in popularity of things like yoga and meditation, where we pay attention to our bodies and our thoughts.

For this year, shizuka is a good theme for me.  A reminder this year to spend time calm, quiet, still.  To bring tranquility, peacefulness and serenity into my life more consciously everyday. 

Our deepest fear

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.' We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we subconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

In tribute to Nelson Mandela, I was going to post this quote, but I found out that these famous words, which have often been attributed to him,  he never actually said them in a speech, nor wrote them.  This oft-reproduced reflection about "our deepest fear" originated with the 1992 work A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles, the best-selling first book by author Marianne Williamson.

And even if Nelson Mandela did not write these words, they are powerful and empowering.  So shine your light on the world!

Competency in the tea room

Some of my newer students are learning a new temae or procedure for making tea.   One of them said that we haven't spent enough time on it for her to feel competent.  She only did it a few times before we changed to the Ro season and now she feels like she has to start all over again.

Here is the news:  we all feel like we have to start all over again.  In fact, for those of us who have practiced for 25 years and more, we want to get back to the place where we feel like beginners again. Rikyu's poem says, "Learn from one to ten and then return to the original one again."  The change of the seasons reminds us to pay attention to what we are doing. 

Feeling competent in the tea room can lead to feeling complacent -- to phone it in because we know what to do.  My sempai said that as a host, the act of making tea is brand new every single time you do it.  To have the freshness, anticipation and excitement of doing something as if for the very first time, makes it fresh and new for the guests, too.

With the many variations in temae, depending on the guests, the utensils, the seasons, the time, the place, there are literally millions of ways to perform the ceremony.  Who can remember and do each one perfectly?  Does doing the temae perfectly mean you are competent?  Can you do a competent temae without doing it perfectly? 

Can we this apply to real life outside the tea room? There are no instructions for life, so how do you judge how competent you are doing your life?  Do you get to practice life until you feel competent?

Paring back to the essential

Temae, the procedure for making tea, to our American eyes, may seem overly complicated and rigid with rules.   But these procedures have been refined for more than 400 years to be able to make a bowl of tea in the most efficient and beautiful way.

When we start to study temae, we start with the simplist form called ryakubon, or tray style and progress to more and more complicated procedures.   But as we study higher and higher temae, we are actually going back in time to procedures that were done at the beginning of the codefied tea ceremony.   What has happened over the years is that things have been pared away so that as we get closer to modern day, things get simpler.

Now that is not to say that procedures get easier.  Simpler does not mean easier.  In fact, simpler becomes harder because it exposes more and more of the person doing the procedure.  Just like Mark Twain said that he wrote you a long letter because he didn't have time to write you  a short one, doing a simple temae and making it look natual and beautiful takes a lot of training.

I did a chanoyu demonstration once for a post-graduate  course of theater majors on movement.  After the demonstration we had a discussion of the procedure and one student said that it didn't look all that hard to do.  But he failed to notice that I always entered the room with the right foot and exited with my left.  He also failed to notice that  when I folded my  fukusa all the folds and corners lined up, every single time.  He also failed to notice that everything was in its place, and not a centimeter off in a ten foot square space. "It looks so natural," he said, "and simple to do." 

Part of living in these times, is that we have very complicated lives.  It takes a conscious effort to pare back the things in our lives to essentials.  That means we have to take time to decide what is essential to us.  What is a want and what is a need?  Indeed, Rikyu said, “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.” 

I have a couple of students, and some friends in Seattle who do not own a car.  They have made the decision that a car is not essential to their lifestyle.  This eliminates car payments, insurance, gasoline, and maintenance.  

What can you eliminate from your complicated life?

  

How to Sharpen Pencils

Book review:  I have just finished reading a book titled, "How to Sharpen Pencils: A Practical & Theoretical Treatise on the Artisanal Craft of Pencil Sharpening for Writers, Artists, Contractors, Flange Turners, and Civil Servants," by David Rees.

This book classified in the humor section, but I read it with the seriousness of a technical manual.  I used to work in technical publications for a large electronic manufacturer.  The author, David Rees, talks about what to do with the shavings and how present the newly sharpened pencil. He also talks about the history of pencil sharpening, the origins of pencils and how pencils are made as well as the care and maintenance of your equipment. 

“Each action we take is an act of self-expression. We often think of large-scale or important deeds as being indications of our real selves, but even how we sharpen a pencil can reveal something about our feelings at that moment. Do we sharpen the pencil carefully or nervously so that it doesn’t break? Do we bother to pay attention to what we’re doing? How do we sharpen the same pencil when we’re angry or in a hurry? Is it the same as when we’re calm or unhurried?

Even the smallest movement discloses something about the person executing the action because it is the person who’s actually performing the deed. In other words, action doesn’t happen by itself, we make it happen, and in doing so we leave traces of ourselves on the activity. The mind and body are interrelated.”

― H.E. Davey, Japanese Yoga: The Way of Dynamic Meditation.

If one observes closely, there a thousand ways to sharpen a pencil, just as there are a thousand ways to make tea. Different situations and different uses call for different types of sharpened pencils. Different occasions and different guests call for different types of temae.

Some people may consider the art of pencil sharpening as inane as the art of making tea. For those who take it seriously, though, it can be sublime and imbued with meaning.  It also illustrates that the attention to detail for something as mundane as sharpening a pencil or making tea can be totally satisfying.

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.

O-Tsukimi at the Portland Japanese Garden

The Autumn Moonviewing Festival, O-Tsukimi, will be held at the Portland Japanese Garden September 28, 29, 30th from 6- 8:30 pm.

On a quiet autumn evening more than 200 years ago, a retired imperial prince sat patiently on the polished bamboo floor of the veranda waiting for the moon’s reflection to shimmer across the pond of one of the world’s most exquisite gardens at Katsura Imperial Villa in western Kyoto. As it rose in the sky, he lifted his sake cup to catch its reflection and bring him good luck in love—something even emperors need.
Here in Portland, we have a place patterned after just such a garden, where people gather to sit and wait for that very same moon to raise high in the evening sky in autumn.

There is no better place in Portland to share the romance and mystery of the full moon in autumn than from the eastern courtyard of the Portland Japanese Garden Pavilion, with cup of sake in hand, gazing at the harvest moon as it rises above the city.
 
Moonviewing, or O-Tsukimi, is a traditional Japanese festival which honors the full moon in autumn. On the evenings of September 28, 29, and 30, guests enjoy a quiet evening in the Garden, observe a candle-lit tea ceremony in the Kashintei Tea House and listen to the elegant live music.

Poetry reading and writing have been part of traditional moonviewing events in Japan for centuries. Guests are invited to write their own poetry in honor of the autumn moon and listen to poetry readings in the Garden Pavilion. Sip sake or tea, enjoy a light sampling of seasonal Japanese foods, and experience a rare walk through the lantern-lit Garden during moonlit hours.

Issoan Tea will be presenting Tea Ceremony at Kashintei Tea House on Saturday, September 29.

September 28, 29, and 30, 2012
6:00-8:30 p.m., rain or shine
$25 members / $35 non-members
Reservations required; Space is limited

Reserve online or call (503) 542-0280

The Paradox that is the Way of Tea

"In my own hands I hold a bowl of tea; I see all of nature represented in its green color. Closing my eyes I find green mountains and pure water within my own heart. Silently, sitting alone, drinking tea, I feel these become part of me. Sharing this bowl of tea with others, they, too, become one with it and nature. That we can find a lasting tranquility in our own selves in the company of others is the paradox that is the Way of Tea."
— Dr. Soshitsu Sen XV

It's harder than it looks

I have a group of new students and some of them have told me that doing tea looks so simple that anyone can do it.  That is until we start whisking matcha, or walking in the tea room.

When we begin training in something like tea, it seems like we start with the boring stuff when what we really want to do is to make tea.   I started training and it was five months before I made tea.  I started with cleaning tatami mats, preparation work and learning to be good guest before I made tea in the tea room for anyone.

Someone said to me that people fall in love with the idea of Rikyu's tea, but when they begin tea training they are disappointed to have to follow the rules and do boring stuff like clean tatami. They just want to make beautiful tea.   It is like going to a concert to hear Yoyo Ma play cello, but when they want to learn the cello, they are disappointed to have to do boring things like learning bowing techniques, tuning your instrument and playing scales when they just want to play Bach's sonata.

My husband is a wood worker and he does the most incredible work.  However, when he makes a Japanese joint in two pieces of wood, it just looks like two pieces of wood come together.   But what is hidden is the complicated carving and fitting that goes on inside the joint so that the two pieces of wood lock together without nails or screws or glue. It is simple, beautiful and will last a lifetime or more.

It seems like many things in life we don't see what is going on inside or behind the scenes.  We see successful athletes and marvel at their incredible talent, but don't see the hours and hours and hours of practice in the gym or on the field.  We see successful businessmen, but don't see the sacrifices to social and family life.   We see artists and craftsmen, masters of their art, but we don't see the years of training, struggle and financial sacrifice.

It's like we expect to be exceptional at something without putting in the time, practice, training and sacrifice. Most people don't want to put in 25 years of tea practice, or spend weekends and nights for years getting a business started. Most people don’t pull consistent all-nighters to nail some key projects, putting them in place for a big promotion.

But if you want to do something badly enough, you will do what ever it takes to make your dreams reality. You need passion to get you through the the tough times and difficult choices you need to make. They do say that nothing worthwhile comes easily and especially nothing worthwhile will come your way without you driving yourself..   Every day is a choice with how you spend your time, how do you choose?

Slow Down

I am very seldom sick, but I have been under the weather for about a week.  During my convalescence I was thinking of all the things I was not getting done and fretting over how many appointments, classes and meetings I had to cancel.   Mostly, though I slept a lot, drank a lot of tea, and read.  How indulgent it was.   Now I am back to the world and feel really energized.  I have made new lists for everything and am catching up on all of my undone tasks.  I do have a few posts that I would like to get to, and a few requests, but for right now,  the enforced slow down of my life due to illness seemed like a time out from the relentlessness of having to do something.  Just a little sign to take some time out.  Like they say, "Don't just do something, sit there."

P.S. Thank you to all of my well wishers for my birthday.  The celebration continues as it is still my birthday week today, and golly we're not even half way through celebrating my birthday month, let alone one third of the way through my birthday year.