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.

All in

All in is used in poker (Mr. Sweetpersimmon is a poker dealer) to bet everything you have.  There is nothing in reserve, you either win it or you are out.  How does this relate to chado?  When people say that they want to be present in the tea room ... it has to be all in.  Either you are present or you are not. You have to be all in.

A lot of the ritual of chado is help the guest (and the host too) become present.  As we enter each doorway or gate, we leave something of the world outside.  The traffic, school work, your mother-in-law, each and every time you step through a doorway you become less and less burdened. As you put on your white socks, you put on your being present cloak, as you rinse your hands at basin, you wash more of your cares away.  As you come up the steps to the tea room you are elevating yourself from the dust of everyday life, so that by the time you enter the tea room, you can be present -- nothing matters so much as what is happening at this very moment -- you are all in.

Sometimes, especially at night after work, we do about 10 minutes of zazen before we start class.  This also helps us become quiet, slow our breathing, and ready for class.  Just 10 minutes where your breath is the only thing that matters. 

Maybe it is possible to become present any night of the week.  As you leave work, you pass through doorways, you can leave work at work. As you drive home in traffic it can become your zazen.  When you finally open the door and enter your home you can be all in, fully present.

From the archives

I was reading through the blog and checking the stats.  There are a few posts that I think deserve more visibility, so here are a few from the archives:

Six years ago:

The nature of things
There are no shortcuts
Order from chaos
Straight shooting
On receiving teaching
Observing vs. doing

Five years ago:
In the winter suggest warmth
Chado, a way of life
Reduce, recycle, reuse, and repair
Pay attention to what you are doing

Four years ago: 
Knowing contentment
What do you love?
Before Rikyu
Just put the flowers in

Three years ago:
Starting over
There is more to life
The power of commitment
Expert Tea Master

Two years ago:
Telling stories
Furyu
Upon entering the tearoom
Paradox that is the way of tea

One year ago:
Gomei discussion
The true way of tea
Paring back to the essential
Disaster in the tea room

Whew, that is a lot of links.  I also posted some links for the discussion in the comments.   Take your time.  Even browse a little more in the archives.   Coming up in May is the seventh anniversary of the blog and also coming up soon, 500th post.  I will have to think of something special.

Beginner's heart

One line of the kotoba reads: As we diligently learn the Way, we shall not forget the humble but eager heart of the beginner.  To many of us who have been studying the Way of tea for a number of years, it is easy to forget what it is like to be a beginner. It is easy to get jaded and consider that today, I will be doing just old hirademae.  I have done this dozens (or hundreds) of times and just go through the motions.  We forget what it is like to be a beginner.

I have a new class of beginners and they are eager and excited to come to class.  Nearly everything is new to them and somewhat intimidating. But their concentration is fierce.  They are paying attention to which foot is entering and leaving the tea room.  They are counting the number of weaves to sit in the proper place.  They listen hard when I am explaining something for the first time. They want to know the proper way to turn the bowl or which way their fan should be pointing. They are hungry for learning just about anything and everything. No matter how often I teach the beginner class, it is humbling to me that there is such enthusiasm for the Way of tea. 

When you are a beginning student, no job is beneath you.  Everything is important and you want to it properly.  Preparing your bowl to make tea is an important job.  Washing up and emptying the natsume is also an important job. For us experienced students, it is good to remember how eager we were to be included in planning a chakai, and even humble things like washing bowls, wiping tatami, and emptying the trash were important jobs.

This is why I like the gyakugatte temae.  It makes me feel like a beginner again. I have to concentrate on my footwork.  The utensils must be placed in different places and I have to remember the order and which hand goes where.  My heart beats fast, I make many mistakes, and it humbles me.  And yet, it brings back my eagerness for the Way of tea; to get it right and make the best tea I can for my guest.

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!

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?

  

The True way of tea

I talk to a lot of people about chado.  It's what I love and I love to talk about it.  Often times the questions are predictible:   How long does it take to study?  Is there talking during the ceremony? Why do you turn the bowl? 

Sometimes I will get a person who knows a little about it, or has read about it on the internet.  Quite often I will get the question of "I want to study chado, which school should I pick, Urasenke or Omotesenke?"  My answer to this question is always, it doesn't matter which school you study.  Find a teacher and study the school that they teach. 
Recently, I had a question from a young man who wanted to study chado, but his question to me was, "I want to study chado, but I want to learn Rikyu's tea.  I don't want to study Urasenke or Omotesenke beacause there just is too much politics.  I want to learn the true way of tea."

So I have thought about it for a while.  What is the true way of tea?  Is learning Rikyu's tea the true way of tea or is this just a romantic notion? 

I have talked about learning to make tea the way Rikyu made it is like hearing Yoyo Ma play Bach and telling a teacher that you want to play Bach on the cello just like Yoyo Ma does.   But even Yoyo Ma had to begin somewhere, and learning the basics (scales, fingering, bowing techniques for the cello -- folding fukusa, purifying utensils, walking in and out of the tea room in the case of chado) is where you start, not making tea like Rikyu.   Besides, Rikyu is out of context in America and out of context of his own time. 

Out of respect for my teachers and generosity of Daishosho for the year in Kyoto, I teach the Urasenke curriculum.  I teach it, as much as I can, as I have learned it.   Tea is a living tradition.  It is passed teacher to student, but it also has changed with the times   It was Gengensai who first developed Ryurei, table style in the late 1800s.  New procedures are developed, changes made to old ones.  It is part of our history and through this history we are connected back through the generations to Rikyu and his ideals. 

But the true way of tea?   When I was at Midorikai, Mori-sensei told us at our orientation, "Tea is not a thing to learn from teachers.  The things you seek are already in you.  Tea is not the procedure, and this is not a University."  She wrote on the board a character -- Shinan -- finger pointing South.  It is a name for someone who teaches Japanese culture, one who points to the South.  "There is nothing to teach you.  All a teacher can do is point to the moon.  Seek for yourself, if you have a strong will you will learn the way of tea, the way of life, the way of the spirit."

And that, I believe is the true way of tea.

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.

Sensei Says

The student says, "I am very discouraged about my tea study.  What should I do?"

Sensei says, "Encourage others."

Confessions of a Chado geek

It has been more than a week since we had an intensive workshop here in Portland with Machida Gyotei sensei and we are grateful to Urasenke and Oiemoto for sending him to Portland.   I don't remember the last time we had a Gyotei sensei in Portland, but I have studied with them while I was in Kyoto, Japan and Seattle.

It always takes me awhile to process what was presented because it is like drinking from a firehose, there is so much information presented in such a short time.

As always we start the seminar with warigeiko, back to basics of folding the fukusa.  Though each time we do it, I learn something new.  Machida Gyotei sensei teaches in a little different manner than others I have studied with.   He asks questions designed to make you think deeply about what you are doing.  For example, he asked us the first day, "Why to you fold the fukusa in this manner to purify utensils?   Did you know that the fukusa is not exactly square?  Why to you think that is?

We studied from the very basic usucha procedures to the most advanced daisu  procedures in the course of three very full days.   On the third day in the afternoon, we practiced kagetsu, including two that I have not done before ko-tsuki kagetsu, and yojohan kagetsu (kagetsu in the four and a half mat room).

Machida Gyotei-sensei  offered practical advice in his lecture, Movement within the tea room, and got into some very philosophical aspects of Buddhist and Chinese daisu procedures, how to handle precious utensils and things to think about for later.  All with a charming and funny demeanor.

It was overwhelming and inspirational at at the same time.   And yes, I really needed that hot tub after sitting on my knees for three days.

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. 

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

From the Archives

I am getting ready for two new classes this weekend, so here are some posts from the archives:

One year ago:  It's harder than it looks,  Care of your kama,and Introducing kagetsu

Two years ago:  After a tea gathering,   The heart of tea,  and The right way

Three years ago:  It's not my fault,  Slow down,  Pay attention to what you are doing, and Breaking bad habits

Four years ago: Time for reflection, Hataraki, working things out,  It's not about perfection, This moment is complete, Making a good bowl of matcha tea, and Performance anxiety

Whew, it has been nearly five years since I started writing this blog.  Please take the time to look at the archives.  I hope you enjoy reading them.

The power of commitment

Sometimes when I talk to people who are interested in studying the way of tea, they demur when I tell them the introduction class is 10 weeks long.  I even had someone ask me if I could shorten that to two weeks because that was all that he could commit to for a class.  For some people it is hard to make a commitment of ten weeks.  For some people making a commitment at all is hard.   I understand.  I have had problems with commitment in the past.

For those who have trouble with commitment there is always the possibility of making a wrong choice and being stuck.   There are those who never have enough time to commit, or enough money, or enough support or enough....

But I have learned the power of commitment.  It is hard to close off your options and follow through on the one you have committed to, but once you have chosen a path, there is almost a relief that the choice is made, and movement is now possible.  If one is committed, there is no buyer's remorse. If one is committed, the narrowing of focus gives you energy.  If one is committed things seem much clearer to you.   If one is committed you can see the end game and all its rewards. 

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:  that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would not otherwise have occurred.  A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man would have dreamed would come his way.  I  have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:  "Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.  Boldness has genius, magic and power in it.  Begin it now."   ~W.H. Murray, The Scottish Himalayan Expedition.