|
Lowry: The Ways of Japan
Rather than demonstrating a sophistication
of technique, the master of the tea Way
seeks to simplify, to harmonize his performance
in a ritual of subtlety and grace. He prepares
tea with a celerity intended to settle the
spirit and to polish it to a state of constant
equanimity. The chado master seems ineffably
calm in a tea-making performance that is at
once choreographed to the most minute detail
(even the manner in which the used scoop
is rubbed clean is precisely formalized),
and yet inherently natural. The atmosphere
of the ceremony is one of a sombre, peace-
ful dignity. The tools of chado contribute
to this air; ceramic bowls, bamboo ladles
and whisks, and earthenware jars are often
centuries old and display an arcadian
craftsmanship. A bowl is splattered with
glaze and irregularly shaped. The scoop,
a curved joint of bamboo, is brown and
sleek with age. Like the ceremony, the
implements of tea are a reminder of the
quiet beauty and style of another age.
If the tea master's actions are hurried or
inept, they instantly lose an important part
of chado's spirit, for they lack zanshin,
the "vigilant mind." Teachers of the art must
strive to bring out this feeling of meditative
contemplation in their students, since it is
zanshin that allows the mind to be focused
on the task at hand, able to perceive it--and
more importantly at the master's level, the
self as well--with utter clarity and composure.
Zanshin too, pervades the dojo (the "place
for learning the Way") where aikido is taught.
Aikido is one of the budo, or martial Ways,
which have become the most recognizable Do
to Western audiences. In the West, these
forms are considered synonymous with self
defense, with screaming, spastic exercises in
mayhem. This was the purpose of the martial
arts of old Japan, when they were practiced
with deadly efficiency by the samurai. With
the end of feudalism there, however, the
martial arts began the transformation into
budo, the martial ways, intended not for
killing, but as another Way of enlightenment.
Nowhere is this goal more obvious than in the
art of aikido, a budo based upon the principles
of traditional swordsmanship. The aikidoka
avoids head-to-head conflict: in the event of
an attack, he deflects it, turns his attacker's
own force against him. But to achieve such
control over another person first requires
an absolute control of oneself. The aikido
student must submit to an apprenticeship
that involves learning to fall safely and
to accustom his body to the strenuous yanks
and wrenches that are applied during practice.
He is further expected to attend to menial
chores like cleaning the dojo, without complaint,
and to follow his teacher's instructions without
question. The basics of the art are rather
straightforward techniques to subdue an
assailant without weapons, but at more
advanced training, practitioners use swords
and staves to develop their prowess. The
expert is able to move through a crowd of
randomly attacking opponents, evading
and flinging them, seemingly without
effort. He resembles nothing more than the
calm eye in the center of a madly whirling
typhoon.
|