Post by washi on Mar 31, 2016 19:04:11 GMT
In October of 2006 I spent most of the month riding my bicycle around the area where I live, looking for the traces of ancient villages, roads, cemeteries, and river levies that for most of its history had defined the now mostly urban area in which I live. One of my principle tools was a copy of a map printed in 1912 and given to me by a teacher at the high school where I worked. The post I made then hasn't been revised recently. The overlay maps now lack the precise alignment that they once had. The 3D imagery obscures the overlays, anyway, but it does allow me to see much better many of the grand old houses that I once could only appreciate for their entry gates. And of course a great many of these homes have been pulled down, and 5 or 6 new houses have been built where they stood. If you're curious, you can download the post >>HERE<<.
Until the mid-20th century the place where I live was farmland, located southeast of the village of Omido, just outside the village of Tomoi. Several weeks ago, a friend of my wife's who lives in Omido asked me to prepare a sheet which could be copied and circulated around its neighborhoods. The event it announced was an informal tea ceremony to be held on the last day of March, just a few days before the weather bureau was forecasting that our cherry trees would be in full bloom. Having studied Tea for several years in America, (where even a poor man could afford lessons), I eagerly undertook the task.
No two bowls of tea and no two cherry blossoms are ever identical, and the practice of Tea at its heart, I think, is striving to live in the present moment, and to experience each moment as it is just then, and not as it was or not as it will be. For me, that's always been rather more difficult than it sounds.
People who follow the way of tea are on the whole pleasant people to be around, and so I hopped on my bicycle and rode over to the little lot in front of Mito Elementary School's swimming pool and student garden. One thing that I quite admire about the people of Japan (at least in this corner of Japan) is the sense of community that exists here. The little tea school had invited their neighbors to stop by, enjoy a bowl of tea and the cherry blossoms. And I was pleased to be welcomed into that moment.
Until the mid-20th century the place where I live was farmland, located southeast of the village of Omido, just outside the village of Tomoi. Several weeks ago, a friend of my wife's who lives in Omido asked me to prepare a sheet which could be copied and circulated around its neighborhoods. The event it announced was an informal tea ceremony to be held on the last day of March, just a few days before the weather bureau was forecasting that our cherry trees would be in full bloom. Having studied Tea for several years in America, (where even a poor man could afford lessons), I eagerly undertook the task.
No two bowls of tea and no two cherry blossoms are ever identical, and the practice of Tea at its heart, I think, is striving to live in the present moment, and to experience each moment as it is just then, and not as it was or not as it will be. For me, that's always been rather more difficult than it sounds.
People who follow the way of tea are on the whole pleasant people to be around, and so I hopped on my bicycle and rode over to the little lot in front of Mito Elementary School's swimming pool and student garden. One thing that I quite admire about the people of Japan (at least in this corner of Japan) is the sense of community that exists here. The little tea school had invited their neighbors to stop by, enjoy a bowl of tea and the cherry blossoms. And I was pleased to be welcomed into that moment.
