'Summer should be cool': so says Tea Master Rikyu

Note to the gods?. . . Deluded Weather Forecaster? . . . or, simply Wishful Thinking?
 
Over the past week you could be forgiven for wondering which of the above applied. The rainy season ended abruptly and a particularly beastly start to the summer emerged. There were seven continuous days at 35C or more. Nighttime temps drop to a balmy 24 on a 'cool' night, but mostly hover around 26C-ish. Ugh.

One of the teahouses at Korakuen

What could the tea master have meant? There is a memorable aphorism penned by John Milton in Paradise Lost that has some bearing on the tea master's claim: 'the mind is its own place, and it itself/ Can make a heaven of hell' . . . Not that suffering (the heat) is by any means all in the mind, nor exactly do I believe that heaven is a state of mind, nor hell. It's just that since we have minds, and this is what we can know (in some sense), we might as well use them to participate with the place we find ourselves (as best we can . . . though I acknowledge that any application of the mind in climates of high heat and humidity feels like a tall order!)

Paper Scroll made by local artist, Umeda san

In Sanmi Sasaki's magisterial book on the way of tea we find in each season a treasure trove. One is introduced here to a beautiful sense of the poetry at the heart of traditional Japan. The way of tea, it is said, is basically concerned with activities that are a part of everyday life, yet to master these requires great cultivation and diligence.

I asked a friend about her tea lesson recently, 'Hot,' she replied. 'You may imagine that it's not pleasant to be near the kettle in this season. Nevertheless, we felt really refreshed afterward. When we hear the kettle boiling we imagine waves rolling in toward the pine trees on the coast line. We call that sound 松 涛 (show-toh).' Pines, waves - so the characters say - what you imagine is really up to you . . . But it is kind of cooling, isn't it?

The tea celebrant is to be mindfully centred in the summer in the principle of Ryou-ichimi, which means something like effortlessly exuding (via careful preparation) simplicity and a sense of cool that in turn imparts a sense of relief & refreshment. Master Rikyu taught that the mind of the host enables coolness at tea and this is enhanced by coolness in imagery and also in the poetry shared for the occasion.

Lotus leaf, silver rain puddle & drop

In this season guests might like to see pictures of, for example, plum trees drawn in indigo ink, or fire flies, or singing frogs. There may be a scroll that speaks of cool mountain breezes. The pottery may be of earthy appearance and wet through. Hanging boat-shaped vases may also turn the mind to cooler climes. For the waiting room, guests may get into the mood for tea seeing images such as green rice shoots with the wind combing them; a white heron on the water; a silver kettle; blue-green or white porcelain and a cup for sipping water. "This might," his instructions go, "be enough to generate coolness."


Master Rikyu's followers in the Urasenke tradition hold that

"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."

Old Stone Pond at Zuishin Temple

Deep, cool, indigo thoughts to you friends in the warmer of the northern climes. 

Keep your flow fresh, the incense burning and your spirits up!