The Urasenke Chanoyu Tradition
The Urasenke Tradition of Tea originated with SEN no Rikyu, the
16th-century tea master who perfected the Way of Tea. Urasenke
chanoyu has been transmitted to the present by sixteen
generations of grand masters dedicated to preserving the
teachings of Rikyu.
A student once asked Rikyu to summarize the most important
teachings of tea, hoping for a glimpse of some secret teaching he
had not yet learned. Rikyu responded, “ First you must make a
delicious bowl of tea; lay the charcoal so the water boils; arrange
the flowers as they are in the field; in the summer suggest
coolness, in the winter, warmth; do everything ahead of time;
prepare for rain; and give those with whom you find yourself
every consideration.” The student was disappointed with this
response, and said he already knew all that. Rikyu told him if he
could do all that well, then Rikyu would be his student. This
teaching is known as Rikyu’s Seven Rules. If we explore each of
these rules in some detail, we can understand a little better how
the study of Tea can help us in our daily lives.
Make a delicious bowl of tea.
The primary purpose of making tea is to serve a delicious bowl of
tea to the guest, and this means ensuring the water and tea are
fresh and good tasting, that we pay attention to the temperature
of the water and the proportions of tea and water, and that we
whisk the tea thoroughly. But Rikyu encourages a deeper level of
engagement when we make a bowl of tea our heart must be in it.
We must prepare the tea with the simple desire that the guest will
find it delicious, and with no added attachment to the guest’s
recognition of the effort we have put into preparing it. Whether
we are making a bowl of tea, responding to an inquiry, or helping
someone at work, be wholehearted.
Lay the charcoal so the water boils.
To lay the charcoal fire is not easy and can be daunting, but this is
an essential task to do, and do well, in order to prepare a bowl of
tea. How often do we hold back from a task because we find it
difficult, or we want to do something else right now, or we have
felt stung by criticism, or our ego is otherwise stuck on this task in
one of any number of ways. In the Zen meditation hall we are
told: just bow, just chant, just have some tea. It’s the same in the
tearoom: just place that utensil there, just fold the wiping cloth,
just lay the charcoal. And it’s how we need to be in our daily lives:
just sweep, just make breakfast, just mow the lawn, just help your
child with homework, just clean up after yourself. This is a lifetime
practice of simply doing what needs to be done with a lightness of
spirit.
Arrange the flowers as they are in the field.
Flower arranging for tea is somewhat different from the formal
arrangement of flowers known as ikebana. Rikyu placed one or
two flowers in a simple container, and arranged them in one
movement, without adjusting them once they are in the
container. But how does one ensure that they look good? First of
all, arranging the flowers as they are in the field requires that we
pay attention to them as they are growing, and not just cut them
without regard for their natural habitat and growth patterns.
Which ones are tall or short? Do they droop down or stand up
straight? What are they growing near? If we respect these
attributes of flowers as we observe them, cut them, and bring
them to the tearoom, then placing them in the vase becomes
much simpler.
The same is true in our daily lives. If we learn to pay attention, to
observe what is going on, without judgment or opinion, we will
appreciate things as they are. If we pay attention to people,
observe and get to know them, without immediately adding our
opinions about how we want them to be, we will be to appreciate
them and their own unique qualities, just as they are.
In the summer, suggest coolness; in the winter, warmth.
In the tearoom we devote our attention to creating an
atmosphere in which the guests can enjoy themselves. This does
not mean that the heat or air conditioning is adjusted to make a
perfect climate, but that we celebrate the unique aspects of each
season. For example, we may hang a scroll in the tearoom that
speaks of cool mountain breezes during the summer, or serve
warm sweets with the tea in winter. A portable brazier is used in
summer and placed as far from the guests as possible, to prevent
them from feeling its heat. In October it is moved closer to the
guests, and then in November it is put away in favor of the
sunken hearth in the middle of the tearoom, where guests can feel
the warmth of the charcoal fire and see its burning embers.
Instead of shielding ourselves from climate or circumstances, or
complaining about them, we accept them and find some
enjoyment in them. We can do this for ourselves anytime, any
place, simply being where we are and accepting what comes our
way. If we can appreciate a slight breeze in the heat of summer, or
the feel of a warm bowl of tea in the midst of winter, how much
more our enjoyment of life will be.
Do everything ahead of time.
For a tea gathering, as for any event, we allow enough time to
prepare so that we are not going into the event feeling rushed and
unready. On an even more fundamental level, though, if we are
running late, we are wasting our guests’ time. If we consider this
deeply, we are wasting our own time. Our lifespan is short, that to
delay is to waste a most precious and non-renewable resource.
We may spend much of our time in a daydream, enjoying a
fantasy or planning what we’ll do at some future date, instead of
being fully present with each breath, each moment as it is. This
rule of Rikyu’s is so simple, but so difficult to practice. Don’t waste
time!
Prepare for rain.
In a tea gathering, this means that the host will have umbrellas
and clogs for the guests, since they will pass through a garden at
some time during the gathering. In the event that it is rainy, or
snowy, the host may need to have some alternative plans to
occupy the guests during the time they would normally be in the
garden. On a deeper level, though, we understand this rule to
mean having the ability to act in whatever circumstances arise.
While we can plan for some possible occurrences,
we cannot plan for everything, and so we need to be able to act
from a place of freedom and open-heartedness responding in a
straightforward way as a situation unfolds. What if something
spills? Wipe it up and move on. Don’t agonize over it. How
wonderful to be able to do this in any circumstance!
Give those with whom you find yourself every consideration.
It has been said that the way of tea is not really the way of tea,
but the way of host and guest, of relationship. This rule sums up
all that have gone before. “Those with whom you find yourself”
are not just the guests, but the utensils, the charcoal fire, the
flowers, the tearoom, the season and setting – all aspects of this
phenomenal world. And what does it mean to show them every
consideration? An expression from the Judeo-Christian tradition is
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” If we
care for our guests, as we ourselves would want to be treated, it
becomes very clear what we need to do for them, in a very
specific way. If we extend the same care to the utensils, the
flowers, the space we inhabit, the chores we do, the day and time
we find ourselves in, we find ourselves connecting with the truth
that underlies this rule. We are not separate from our guests, or
from the tea bowls, flowers, tasks, or planet and its atmosphere.
To practice this rule wholeheartedly, without reservation or
hesitation, is to enter this truth. And as we enter this truth, we find
we can take up the tasks of our life in any setting – the tearoom,
our home and work place - with more energy and commitment
than ever before.
The Urasenke Tradition of Tea originated with SEN no Rikyu, the
16th-century tea master who perfected the Way of Tea. Urasenke
chanoyu has been transmitted to the present by sixteen
generations of grand masters dedicated to preserving the
teachings of Rikyu.
A student once asked Rikyu to summarize the most important
teachings of tea, hoping for a glimpse of some secret teaching he
had not yet learned. Rikyu responded, “ First you must make a
delicious bowl of tea; lay the charcoal so the water boils; arrange
the flowers as they are in the field; in the summer suggest
coolness, in the winter, warmth; do everything ahead of time;
prepare for rain; and give those with whom you find yourself
every consideration.” The student was disappointed with this
response, and said he already knew all that. Rikyu told him if he
could do all that well, then Rikyu would be his student. This
teaching is known as Rikyu’s Seven Rules. If we explore each of
these rules in some detail, we can understand a little better how
the study of Tea can help us in our daily lives.
Make a delicious bowl of tea.
The primary purpose of making tea is to serve a delicious bowl of
tea to the guest, and this means ensuring the water and tea are
fresh and good tasting, that we pay attention to the temperature
of the water and the proportions of tea and water, and that we
whisk the tea thoroughly. But Rikyu encourages a deeper level of
engagement when we make a bowl of tea our heart must be in it.
We must prepare the tea with the simple desire that the guest will
find it delicious, and with no added attachment to the guest’s
recognition of the effort we have put into preparing it. Whether
we are making a bowl of tea, responding to an inquiry, or helping
someone at work, be wholehearted.
Lay the charcoal so the water boils.
To lay the charcoal fire is not easy and can be daunting, but this is
an essential task to do, and do well, in order to prepare a bowl of
tea. How often do we hold back from a task because we find it
difficult, or we want to do something else right now, or we have
felt stung by criticism, or our ego is otherwise stuck on this task in
one of any number of ways. In the Zen meditation hall we are
told: just bow, just chant, just have some tea. It’s the same in the
tearoom: just place that utensil there, just fold the wiping cloth,
just lay the charcoal. And it’s how we need to be in our daily lives:
just sweep, just make breakfast, just mow the lawn, just help your
child with homework, just clean up after yourself. This is a lifetime
practice of simply doing what needs to be done with a lightness of
spirit.
Arrange the flowers as they are in the field.
Flower arranging for tea is somewhat different from the formal
arrangement of flowers known as ikebana. Rikyu placed one or
two flowers in a simple container, and arranged them in one
movement, without adjusting them once they are in the
container. But how does one ensure that they look good? First of
all, arranging the flowers as they are in the field requires that we
pay attention to them as they are growing, and not just cut them
without regard for their natural habitat and growth patterns.
Which ones are tall or short? Do they droop down or stand up
straight? What are they growing near? If we respect these
attributes of flowers as we observe them, cut them, and bring
them to the tearoom, then placing them in the vase becomes
much simpler.
The same is true in our daily lives. If we learn to pay attention, to
observe what is going on, without judgment or opinion, we will
appreciate things as they are. If we pay attention to people,
observe and get to know them, without immediately adding our
opinions about how we want them to be, we will be to appreciate
them and their own unique qualities, just as they are.
In the summer, suggest coolness; in the winter, warmth.
In the tearoom we devote our attention to creating an
atmosphere in which the guests can enjoy themselves. This does
not mean that the heat or air conditioning is adjusted to make a
perfect climate, but that we celebrate the unique aspects of each
season. For example, we may hang a scroll in the tearoom that
speaks of cool mountain breezes during the summer, or serve
warm sweets with the tea in winter. A portable brazier is used in
summer and placed as far from the guests as possible, to prevent
them from feeling its heat. In October it is moved closer to the
guests, and then in November it is put away in favor of the
sunken hearth in the middle of the tearoom, where guests can feel
the warmth of the charcoal fire and see its burning embers.
Instead of shielding ourselves from climate or circumstances, or
complaining about them, we accept them and find some
enjoyment in them. We can do this for ourselves anytime, any
place, simply being where we are and accepting what comes our
way. If we can appreciate a slight breeze in the heat of summer, or
the feel of a warm bowl of tea in the midst of winter, how much
more our enjoyment of life will be.
Do everything ahead of time.
For a tea gathering, as for any event, we allow enough time to
prepare so that we are not going into the event feeling rushed and
unready. On an even more fundamental level, though, if we are
running late, we are wasting our guests’ time. If we consider this
deeply, we are wasting our own time. Our lifespan is short, that to
delay is to waste a most precious and non-renewable resource.
We may spend much of our time in a daydream, enjoying a
fantasy or planning what we’ll do at some future date, instead of
being fully present with each breath, each moment as it is. This
rule of Rikyu’s is so simple, but so difficult to practice. Don’t waste
time!
Prepare for rain.
In a tea gathering, this means that the host will have umbrellas
and clogs for the guests, since they will pass through a garden at
some time during the gathering. In the event that it is rainy, or
snowy, the host may need to have some alternative plans to
occupy the guests during the time they would normally be in the
garden. On a deeper level, though, we understand this rule to
mean having the ability to act in whatever circumstances arise.
While we can plan for some possible occurrences,
we cannot plan for everything, and so we need to be able to act
from a place of freedom and open-heartedness responding in a
straightforward way as a situation unfolds. What if something
spills? Wipe it up and move on. Don’t agonize over it. How
wonderful to be able to do this in any circumstance!
Give those with whom you find yourself every consideration.
It has been said that the way of tea is not really the way of tea,
but the way of host and guest, of relationship. This rule sums up
all that have gone before. “Those with whom you find yourself”
are not just the guests, but the utensils, the charcoal fire, the
flowers, the tearoom, the season and setting – all aspects of this
phenomenal world. And what does it mean to show them every
consideration? An expression from the Judeo-Christian tradition is
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” If we
care for our guests, as we ourselves would want to be treated, it
becomes very clear what we need to do for them, in a very
specific way. If we extend the same care to the utensils, the
flowers, the space we inhabit, the chores we do, the day and time
we find ourselves in, we find ourselves connecting with the truth
that underlies this rule. We are not separate from our guests, or
from the tea bowls, flowers, tasks, or planet and its atmosphere.
To practice this rule wholeheartedly, without reservation or
hesitation, is to enter this truth. And as we enter this truth, we find
we can take up the tasks of our life in any setting – the tearoom,
our home and work place - with more energy and commitment
than ever before.
| . |
| the way of tea |
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| Contact EWCC: 5125 40th Avenue N.E., Seattle, WA 98105 (206) 328 6018 mitchell@urasenkeseattle.org |
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