The Second Best Seasoning

“Tea tastes better with company.”

It was a sudden realisation, as I sipped the matcha while looking at my laptop screen. The faces of my teacher and the other students were obscured by their own tea bowls, and I was astonished at how delicious the tea was. I’d had the same tea a few days earlier, and it had tasted completely different. Had it changed flavours because it had time to get to room temperature? Maybe. But I think more likely that there is a big difference between hurriedly whisking a bowl of matcha for the caffeine, and making time to appreciate a meditative ceremony with friends.

The Present Future

Sometimes when I’m at a tea ceremony lesson, I seem so connected to the present moment that I can solve problems the instant they come into existence. It’s like having a moment of perfect clarity that if that snowball were to start rolling it would cause an avalanche, and so as the snowball is starting to form I disperse it. It feels like a kind of magic foresight where for a moment I can see the future, and know exactly what is required to prevent that future from becoming.

I’ll see that the water is a little low, and top it up quickly and quietly so that it’s ready for the next person to use without them having to worry.

I’ll notice there’s a tiny speck of tea powder on the floor and wipe it up with a tissue before it stains anyone’s clothes or utensils.

I’ll notice that no one has been designated as an assistant, so I’ll quietly move my osensu (fan) out of the way so that my bundle of kaishi (paper) is easy to access. Before anyone even has the chance to look around for who will retrieve the tea, I am already sliding into place with a new bowl and my kobukusa (small silk cloth).

It’s a dozen tiny moments like those that make me feel intimately connected to the tea room and everyone within it. Like before a thought has even finished forming in the mind of my teacher, I have understood it and already begun to act on it. It is a rare feeling, and only comes when I am at my sharpest on my very best days.

And I don’t always get it right, either! Sometimes I think I’m perfectly placed to solve a problem when all I’m doing is stumbling into the way of other people. Or I’ll think, “Sensei would find it helpful if someone would take care of that”, and I’ll jump in when she was deliberately waiting for someone else to notice so that they could learn the lesson themselves. Sometimes when I take the initiative, it is very presumptuous, and very mistaken!

But sometimes it is like magic. It makes me think of the “harmony” described in the phrase “Wa kei sei jaku“.

The more I practice, the more I get the sense that tea ceremony is not something that can be understood with words, or even action. Every time I see a ceremony, I get a glimpse of something indescribable, a sliver of some great and beautiful truth. It must be very difficult for my teacher to help her students discover what cannot be taught!

Some of the Finer Details

My tea ceremony teacher normally lives in Japan, but she returns to Perth several times a year and holds lessons for a few weeks at a time. This morning was the first lesson in two months, and it was such a pleasure to be back in the tea room, especially after the hectic weekend, where we performed otemae at the Fusion Festival. (Tea ceremony just isn’t the same when you’re yelling instructions over people in a conga line blowing whistles as they march past the tent.)

Normally after every lesson I write down every new thing I’ve learned, or want to remember for the next session. I thought it might be interesting that I record them here on my blog rather than on my phone, so that you might have an insight into the myriad of tiny details that make up a masterful performance. Note that I’ve been doing tea ceremony for nearly four years, and I have quite a comprehensive knowledge of several different ceremonies and numerous variations of each of them. And yet, today’s lesson is a typical example of just how much I have yet to learn. I am very lucky to have a teacher who is patient enough to answer my questions as I strive for mastery.

So here is a list of all the things I learned (or clarified) today. It’s easier for me to use the Japanese terminology, so I’ll provide a translation for the first time I use each term. Forgive me that it becomes a little complicated if you’re unfamiliar with the terminology.

1. When holding a bowl of okashi (sweets), don’t just hold it by the rim. If possible, place your hands on the sides of the bowl to hold it firmly. This is also how you should hold it when rotating the bowl towards the main guest.
2. After serving a guest, the ohanto (assistant) first withdraws (rather than spreads) their right knee slightly, before moving their left knee to meet it and then swinging the feet as the assistant prepares to stand.
3. When there is an otana (shelf) and you are returning to the entrance, step back right, left, right (and turn), and step across the threshold with the left foot. (This is reversed when taking the kensui (waste water receptacle) from the room.)
4. Also, make sure that you are moving back with every step and not just shuffling on the spot (so make a little more room to retreat when you first step on the mat). Also make sure your left foot is pointing straight when you step across the mat.
5. If there is an ohanto, they enter when the host moves the kensui forwards. They set their empty tea bowl by their left knee, and then bow with all the guests.
6. When purifying the ochaire (tea container), you do indeed rest the ofukusa (silk cloth) in the palm of the hand for the third wipe across the surface of the lid.
7. When performing chasen toshi (whisk purification), hold the chasen about 5-6 inches above the ochawan (bowl) rather than eye-height.
8. After discarding the water from chasen toshi, reach for the chakin (cloth) while the ochawan is still over the kensui.
9. When wiping the ochawan, hold the chakin so that there’s about a centimetre of space above the rim. This makes it easier to wipe rough bowls.
10. The guests can eat their okashi when the host picks up the chashaku (tea scoop) to add matcha (tea powder) to the bowl. Although this is the correct timing, you must take your cue from the main guest. If they have not yet eaten their sweet, you must wait for them until they remember.
11. When scooping the matcha, take care not to gouge a hole in the “mountain”. Cut cleanly from the peak to the base at the same angle to keep the powder presentable, because the guest may ask to admire the utensils.
12. When removing the lid of the mizuzashi (water container), you don’t have to keep it inside the otana. You can grasp the lid in your right hand, sit up straight and then adjust it before leaning forward and placing it correctly.
13. As a guest, once you have finished your tea you place the ochawan on the tatami (mat) further away from you. Once you have finished admiring the bowl, you may take it onto your mat and place it next to your left knee with the shomen (front) facing you. If an assistant comes to take it, you rotate the shomen to face them and place it on the farther mat. Remember, the tatami in front of the hanging scroll is only for the main guest, so if you are the second guest place it on the left of the divider.
14. If you are the second guest receiving tea, you do not need to bow and say “Kekko na ofuku kagende“. If you did, the host would have to stop whatever they were doing and bow back to you. It is politer, then, to let them continue with the ceremony and perform a small bow while holding the bowl in both hands after the first sip.
15. When moving the hishaku (large bamboo scoop) from the mizuzashi to the okama (kettle), the path of the cup is more like a right-angled triangle than a rectangle. It comes out perpendicular to the otana, then goes straight to the front of the okama. The path is reversed on the way back if you are using more than one scoop of water.
16. After using the hishaku to add cold water to the okama (or after yugaishi (scooping hot water)), you can wait a little for one drop of water to fall before returning to watching the mirror position and putting the lid back on.
17. When using the hishaku, the best hand position is to have the index finger straight and all other fingers curled at the first two knuckles (as in the opening movements of the Tiger Crane form). Ideally, the host should strive to keep a straight line between the hishaku and their forearm.
18. When you are going to kazari (display the tea utensils on the shelf), the cup of the hishaku sits not on the rim of the kensui, but just past it. (When you are not displaying anything and simply returing the chaire to the top shelf, the cup sits on the rim.)
19. When performing a kazari with the tea bowl, you need to wring and refold the chakin quickly and gracefully. To this end, keep the right hand stable and use the left hand to untwist it (either going forwards or backwards as needed).
20. When displaying the hishaku, place the cup down with the kiridome (tip) pressed into the palm. When you lay the handle down, turn the hand palm-up and lay it gently on the shelf.
21. When doing sou kazari (display everything), once you have displayed everything you can on the shelf without leaving, reset the kan (rings). That is to say, reset the kan just before you leave with the kensui.
22. The word for the iron kettle is yakan.
23. When resetting the ochaire between performances, as well as resetting the mountain of tea, make sure to wipe any stray tea powder from the inside and outside of the rim.
24. From what I understand, Edosenke (the style of tea ceremony from Edo/Tokyo that I practice) is probably a little simplified compared to other schools. The 7th generation master of Omotesenke (one of the three major styles of tea ceremony taught by great-grandson of Sen no Rikyuu) asked his top student to leave Kyoto and establish a school in Edo. The version of Omotesenke he taught was a little simpler to better suit the people of Edo.

Now that I’ve written it all down, it sure looks like a lot! It humbly reminds me of how much I know already, to be refining these tiny details in my pursuit of excellence. It’s easy to see how chanoyu is a lifetime journey!