The shape and form of tea practice

One of the topics of Dr. Sen’s talk was about kata and katachi. These terms are very closely related, and yet there is a difference. I touched on this difference in the post
http://sweetpersimmon1.blogspot.com/2007/08/form-kata.html

...Patterns or rules are involved not only in chanoyu but in all endeavors.
Especially in sports and other games, if rules are not followed, there can be
no pleasure in the competition. Similarly within the training of temae (the
various procedures by which tea is made) one first thoroughly masters the
basic steps and gestures that comprise the pattern of each temae. When
one's own personality begins to come to life through the pattern, at that
point the pattern becomes inherently intermingled with the nature of that
person's expression of the Way of Tea.

I think of this process as the sublimation of pattern into form. Suffusing
the pattern (kata) with one's own spirit (chi) creates form (katachi).
From long ago, Japanese people have considered spirit (chi) an extraordinarily
important thing. For example, combining the characters for mountain and
spirit yields the word orochi or giant serpentine deity; the characters for
rice field and spirit give tachi or agricultural deity; the characters for
water and spirit, michi or aquatic deity. In truth, spirit surpasses all human
understanding or imagination.

Questions such as whether a person's movements in temae are beautiful or
whether a person is able to proceed through a difficult temae without
mistakes, while important, indicate a temae in which pattern has been
achieved. I urge you to go beyond that, to pour your own fresh individuality
into the temae and guide it towards achieving spirited form. ~ excerpted
from a translation, Pattern and Form, in the April issue of Tanko Magazine,
Heisei 8 (Kyoto: Tankosha, 1996).

Kata refers to shape of practice, that mode of 'still thinking'; an awareness of
technique and self; Kata the form is visible in your practice.

Katachi the form is invisible, coming from within. Perhaps it is like flow, being one with
your practice. There is a deep focus; you have become empty, with mind of mu. In katachi
understanding there is no separation, being one with tea.

As we do tea again and again, we move from shapes ( kata ) to form, (katachi); to the
form within ourselves - empty mind and clear heart, the mind of mu.

~ Thank you to Lynn Moser for her notes on Dr. Sen’s lecture.

Everything fresh and new

As member of the information age, it is always the next thing, then the next thing, even before we master the previous thing. By the time we know something it has passed and we are on to something different. There is very little time for reflection on what we have learned because we are always keeping up with the next new thing. But how do you make something that you have done hundreds of times fresh and new? As we begin the new year of tea classes, it may seem redundant when we do things over and over again.

In the world of chanoyu we learn things with our body. They say that in order for something to become a habit, you must do it at least 30 times. How do we know where to sit down on the tatami mat so that we are exactly 16 weaves from the line? How do we know what comes next in the tea procedure that is two hours long? By training our bodies for tea procedures, it becomes second nature to us. Training our bodies takes patience. We must do it over and over again until we can do it without thinking.

Like bicycle riding, when we train our bodies, we can finally look up and see the scenery rather than concentrate on keeping our balance. With our well trained body doing tea procedures, we can free our mind and our heart to look beyond ourselves to what is happening in the tea room. We can be sensitive to our guests and communicate on many levels at once. This is what makes everything fresh and new again even though you may have done it a hundred times before.

There is a saying in chanoyu – nichi nichi arata -- every day is new. To make each tea procedure, each movement fresh and exciting as if it was the first time you were doing it takes lots and lots of practice. What a conundrum. This attitude will make your tea study more exciting for you and ultimately more exciting for your guests.

Opening and closing doors

There is a proper form to open and close the sliding shoji doors in a tea room. First one must sit down, then use the recessed finger pull to open the door about an inch. Then the hand closest to the door jamb slips into the opening about 18 inches from the floor and slides the door half way open. The other hand then pushes the door open until it lines up with the next sliding screen.

Bow at the door and slide across the threshold on your knees. Then turn to face the door and pull with the hand nearest the door and slide it half way closed. With the other hand pull the door closed until the hand touches the door jamb, and then reach up to use the finger pull to close the door completely.

This may seem like a big production to just open the door, come in and then close the door, but it is a skill to do it gracefully and quietly. It takes practice. Entering the tea room is not about making an entrance, it is about being respectful and restrained. It is also good training to learn the proper etiquette and spend the time to do it mindfully.

In any culture, we are judged by the little things we do. Things like entering and leaving a room. Chajin (tea people) are conscious of even the smallest detail, because it is often a reflection of our inner state. My sensei often said that she could tell what my mood was by just observing how I entered the room and took my first step. It is something to think about the next time you enter a room or close a door.

Living with ambiguity and no right answers

I attended and intensive workshop for advanced tea instructors a couple of weeks ago. As we were going through some advanced procedures, the workshop leader told us that in tea, there are no right answers. This threw me into confusion. Because Chanoyu is an oral tradition passed from teacher to student, there are sometimes transmissions or interpretations for certain things.

When we were just beginning, there definitely was a right way to do things. What sensei said was the right way to do it, period. If there was an explanation, then that was accepted as to why it was the right way to do something. But with my maturity as a student of the rich and deep tradition of chado, it is like learning a language. At the beginning there are all the rules of grammar, punctuation, form and structure just as the beginning of tea there are the rules: of conduct, of placement, of order, structure and form. But as we become more fluent in the language or the study of chado, there comes a time when we know the rules and can decide if they can be broken.

This is the point then, that there are no right answers. Or, there may be several right answers, depending on the situation or the guests. What once was a solid foundation suddenly becomes a slippery slope. Where there was surety there is now ambiguity.

This is where years of training, experience and instinct come into play. By anticipating what may come up if one thing is done vs. what may come up if something else is done, we chart the waters of ambiguity and uncertainty the best we can. It is a chess game to see how far in advance we can think, to see and anticipate, knowing that something else may come that will change the whole playing board and we have to work it out once again. But isn’t that a lot like parenting? Isn’t that a lot like relationships, isn’t it a lot like life?

Temae

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.

Form – the kata

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.”