How can I cherish this moment?

In many ways I can say that I live to get through this moment. That is, I cannot imagine what will happen next week, nor remember what I had for breakfast without stopping to think. But usually that is because I am busy, busy, busy with right now that I don’t have time to remember or think. All I want to do is scratch this off my do to list and move on to the next. I’ve got to keep moving, keep moving or I’ll get behind.

Not just living through the moment but fully embracing it is difficult. We have so little time in our lives with our overloaded schedules that it is difficult to carve out time for meditation or spiritual pursuits. There is always dinner, then soccer practice, getting milk for breakfast, taking clothes to the cleaners and...

So by sheer coincidence, when I do have few minutes before the next meeting, or waiting in line at the checkout, or stopped in traffic, how can I cherish this moment? I have a friend, Al Lee, who tells me that I could do it by taking a few deep breaths. By consciously noticing my breathing habits, I find myself taking very shallow breaths or holding it in, especially when I am under stress, in a hurry, angry or nervous.

Taking deep breaths fills my blood with oxygen, which in turn helps my body function more efficiently. Just filling my lungs fully with air brings me out of preoccupation into awareness. So even when I do not have those stolen moments to slow down or meditate, I can take a deep breath and cherish even the moments when I am busy.

The nature of chanoyu

If asked the nature of chanoyu say it’s the sound of wind-blown pines
in a black and white painting.

Sen Sotan
Third-Generation Grand Master
(1578-1658)

Following the way

Chado literally translated is the path or way of tea, just as kendo is the way of the sword, shodo is the way of the brush, kado the way of flowers. There are many paths and many do. But what is the path and where is it leading us? Many people think the way is the path to enlightenment, or the way to satori. But this implies that there is an end result we are striving for.

To me the way of tea is the journey of how we conduct our lives every day. It is one step at a time and the particular path we choose only serves as the vehicle or measure of our conduct. In my view, there are not just the traditional paths of practice. There certainly can be running-do, golfing-do, photography-do, woodworking-do and even skateboarding-do.

At some point, if we are serious about something, we will invest time and hard work to become better at it. After some time of working hard at it, we will begin to get rewards out of it that have nothing to do with getting better. And often it becomes a life long pursuit.

There seems to be some of the same stages that are similar in many of these endeavors. At first it seems like a pleasant thing to do, or a social thing to do. Then it becomes a little more serious and we begin to gather information and knowledge about it. Another stage seems to be accumulating the right gear, utensils or equipment. Maybe there is a stage where we investigate the previous or historical recognized masters of the practice. And some of us continue to do it because we just cannot imagine a life without it.

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.

Sensei says...

My first sensei’s English was not all that good but she had many words of wisdom to impart to her students. One of the things that she told us over and over again, “In class you can do nothing right, in chaji you can do nothing wrong.”

Boy, that was the truth. She was a strict teacher that didn’t let me get away with much. She paid the most minute attention when I was making tea. She watched how I walked, and my posture. She scolded if I put something down and it was a centimeter off in the wrong place. She noticed bent wrists, short cuts, and sloppy habits. She commented on how well I prepared my utensils and how thorough I was in cleaning.

But when it came to chaji (a formal tea gathering) she never scolded anyone. It was all about solving the problem, getting things done, and making it a wonderful experience for the guests. Each chaji is unique and a once in a lifetime experience and sensei told us that things unfold there as they should be. Even if there were mistakes, they were just part of the experience.

After I reached a certain level, my sensei required all of her students to do at least one chaji a year. She would supervise us and we would put on tea gatherings for each other. It was like putting together a major event, from invitations and theme selection to menu planning and cooking to proper selection of utensils. The chaji tea gathering consists of a formal seven course meal, 3 servings of sake, two layings of charcoal, a break and two types of tea. It is supposed to last about 3 ½ to four hours.

She wanted us to put all of our training to use in planning and holding these formal tea gatherings. In the weeks before the chaji, she would become even more strict in her teachings, and sometimes she would throw unexpected things at us in class. Of course, if we were unprepared or didn’t deal well with the changes she would ask us how we were to handle the unexpected at chaji if we didn’t prepare to handle it in class. It was good training for us and we always did what sensei said.