JAPANESE AESTHETICS: FURYU

Fūryū (風流)

The Japanese aesthetic Fūryū (風流) was derived from the Chinese word fengliu, which literally translated meant “good deportment” or “manners. After its “importation” to Japan in the eight century, the word came to refer more directly to the refined tastes of a cultivated person and to things what were associated with such people. When applied in a more aesthetic sense, the word fūryū took on a reference to the refined, even elegant behavior of an sophisticated person. As time went on, the word was applied to all things that were regarded as elegant, sophisticated, stylish, or artistic.

By the twelfth century, with the evolution of semantics in Japan, fūryū began to evolve into two distinct variations. The first variation applied fūryū to more earthy, ostentatious beauty as marked in popular art forms. In the second variation, people attempted to find fūryū in the beauty portrayed in landscape gardens, flower arrangements, architecture, and poetry about nature, normally written in classic Chinese. It was this second “branch” of fūryū that in part gave birth to cha-no-yu or the tea ceremony, during the Muromachi Jidai or Muromachi Era (1333- 1573).

During the Edo Period or Edo Jidai (1603 – 1868), a form of popular fūryū became evident through a style of fictional prose known as ukyo-zōshi.[i] A second popular interpretation of fūryū became apparent in such art forms as haikai[ii] poetry and the nanga[iii] style of painting; an interpretation that advocated a withdrawal from all of life’s burdens. An example of this version of fūryū may be found in the following poem by Bashō :

the beginning of fūryū

this rice planting

song of the north.

A more contemporary interpretation of fūryū, strongly influenced by Zen, lies in the two characters which comprise the term, 風流, wind and flowing. Just like the moving wind, fūryū can only be sensed: it cannot be seen. Fūryū is tangible yet at the same time, intangible in the elegance which it implies; moreover, just like the wind, fūryū puts forward a wordless, transitory beauty, which can be experienced only in the moment: in the next it is gone. Interestingly, several styles of folk dances, yayako odori and kaka odori, have come to be referred to as fūryū or “drifting on the wind” dances and are quite popular.

---

[i] Ukiyo-zōshi (浮世草子 ) or “books of the floating world” was the first major genus of popular Japanese fiction, by and large written between 1690 and 1770, primarily in Kyōto and Ōsaka. Ukiyo-zōshi style literature developed from kana-zōshi (仮名草子 ) [a type of printed Japanese book that was produced largely in Kyōto between 1600 and 1680, referring to books written in kana rather than kanji]. Indeed, ukiyo-zōshi was originally classified as kana-zōshi. The actual term ukiyo-zōshi first appeared around 1710, used in reference to romantic or erotic works; however, later the term came to refer to literature that included a diversity of subjects and aspects of life during the Edo Jidai. Life of a Sensuous Man, by Ihara Saikaku, is regarded as the first work of this type. The book, as well as other passionate literature, took its subject matter from writings of or about courtesans and guides to the pleasure quarters. Although Ihara’s works were not considered “high literature” at the time, they became extremely popular and were crucial to the further development and broadened appeal of the genre. After the 1770s, the style began to stagnate and to slowly decline.

[ii] Haikai (俳諧 , meaning comic or unorthodox) is short for haikai no renga, a popular style of Japanese linked verse that originate in the sixteenth century. Unlike the more aristocratic renga, haikai was regarded as a low style of linked verse intended primarily for the average person, the traveler, and for those who lived a less privileged lifestyle.

[iii] Nanga (南画 , or southern painting) also known and bunjinga (文人画 ) , intellectual painting) was a somewhat undefined school of Japanese painting which thrived during the late Edo Period. Its artists tended to regard themselves as an intellectual elite or literati. The artists who followed this school were both unique and independent; yet they all shared a high regard for traditional Chinese culture. Their paintings, most often rendered in black ink, but at times with light color, were inclined to represent Chinese landscapes or related subjects, much in the same form as Chinese wenrenhua or literati painting of the nanzonghua or Chinese “southern school” or art.

Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

JAPANESE AESTHETICS: Plants in the Visual Arts (Geijutsu to Shokubutsu)

The graphic or illustrative arts in Japan traditionally have relied on the sensitivity of the artist to nature and thus, have been likely to be simple, compact, and modest, yet elegant. Traditional renderings of landscapes, for example, do not display the wide range of colors that is seen in Western oil paintings or watercolors. This same simplicity and grace applies to sculpture as well: delicately carved and small in size.

Plants, flowers and birds, or at least their outlines are frequently rendered in lifelike colors on fabric, lacquer ware and ceramics. The love of natural forms and an enthusiasm for the expression of nature in idealized style have been the key intentions in the development of traditional Japanese arts such as ikebana (flower arrangement, chanoyou (the tea ceremony), tray landscapes (bonkei), bonsai, and landscape gardening. It is through these arts that the Japanese people have attempted to incorporate the beauty of nature into their spiritual values and daily lives.

For the decoration of a teahouse, a modest flower was selected to conform with the principle that flowers should always look as if they were still in nature. The Japanese have sought to express the immensity as well as the simplicity of nature with a single wild flower in a solitary vase.

Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa. All rights reserved.

SAITO AND THE KAPPA

The Tokugawa family is blessed with cats. Well actually, “blessed” may be a stretch; perhaps it is better to simply say that the Tokugawa family has cats, or the cats have us: probably the latter. Being for most intents and purposes, a Japanese family (despite the current separation of 8,000 miles), we have a certain cultural and religious involvement with the both Shintō and Buddhism. We observe the customs and traditions of both religions as do most Japanese; indeed, if you are born Japanese, you are pretty much born into Shintō and Buddhism: they are part of the Japanese tapestry. This involvement with the religions and traditions of Japan does not only extend to the human members of a family, but can, as we discovered, involve our animal members as well: as we recently found out.

As I’ve written in the past, Tajimi and the surrounding area is the capital of ceramic art and ceramic production in Japan. You may also remember that I mentioned once that the official mascot of Tajimi is a kappa. What’s more, perhaps appropriately, the first gift my bride Aoi gave me was a ceramic kappa, made in Tajimi.

Now, you may well ask, “What is a kappa?”A kappa (河童) or “river child,” also known as a kawatarō (川太郎 ) or “river boy” or kawako (川子) “river child,” is a legendary creature, a type of water fairy, or more appropriately a suijin or water kami (deity), found in Japanese folklore as well as the in the traditions of Shintō.

Most portrayals of kappa are as child-sized, human-like kami, although their bodies are often more combinations of those of monkeys and/or frogs rather than human beings, with thick shells a bit like those of a turtle, and scaly green, yellow, or blue skin. According to legend, kappa usually inhabit ponds and rivers in Japan and have physical features to aid them in these environments like webbed hands and feet. It is sometimes said that they smell like fish, in addition to being able to swim like them.

Tradition holds that kappa are generally mischievous or troublemakers; with their antics ranging from basically innocent jokes such as loudly passing gas or looking up a lady’s kimono, to being a bit more troublesome; such as stealing crops, kidnapping children, and the like. Some legends also say that small children are in fact, one of the kappa’s favorite meals, although they may, from time to time, eat an adult as well. Now you may well scoff at all this, but one should be aware that even today, in many towns and villages, there are signs along rivers, streams, and ponds warning of the presence of kappa! Obviously, someone considers kappa real enough to spend the money to post the signs. It is also said that kappa are afraid of fire and some villages hold firework festivals annually to scare the kappa away.

An old Japanese friend has provided me with this assured old Japanese method of escape if one is ever confronted by a kappa:

Kappa, for some reason which is unknown to me, other than they are truly Japanese, are obsessed with being overly polite. If one gestures in a deep bow to a kappa, because of the need to return the politeness and then some, the kappa can be tricked into bowing even deeper. When he does this, water, which is kept in a bowl that looks much like a lily pad on his head, will spill out and he will then be stuck in this bowing position until the bowl is refilled with water from the exact body of water in which he lives.

My friend also assured me that as legend has it, if the water is refilled by a human, then the kappa would serve them for all eternity.

Kappa as a rule are not really hostile towards men or women, or haven’t been until modern times, beginning with the Meiji Period. Rather, they are curious about Japanese and human culture, to the extent that they have learned to write and speak Japanese quite well. They also like sports and competitions; and will from time to time, challenge someone they meet to a game of shogi (which is like Western chess) or even sumo wrestling. Another legend says that kappa will even make friends with humans, especially in exchange for gifts such as cucumbers: the only food kappa are known to enjoy more than children! In many villages still, Japanese parents sometimes inscribe the names of their children on the skins of cucumbers and then throw them into “kappa-infested” waters in order to pacify the kappa and to allow the family to swim there.
Once someone makes a friend of a kappa, according to the stories, they have been know to be very helpful to their human friends. For example, they sometimes help farmers to irrigate their land. Kappa are also skilled at medicine and legend has it that they are the ones who taught the art of bone setting to the Japanese people. Because of this goodwill on the part of the kappa, some Shintō shrines have been dedicated to kappa that have proven themselves particularly helpful.

Now, how does this all relates to the Tokugawa family and Saitochan? Well, beside my futon, on a nightstand, sit three ceramic figures from Tajimi. One is a small ceramic kitty that looks quite a bit like the very glamorous and sophisticated kitty, Sumiechan. The other is a rather playful appearing dachshund which looks remarkably like the Tokugawa family dog, Tonochan. The third figure is that of the kappa, which Aoi sent me many years ago: her first gift to me. Saito has a problem, well actually several; but among them are his need to touch everything possible, to claim ownership of anything he wants, and to use whatever he wants as a toy. Thus, from time to time, the ceramic Sumiechan and Tonochan have disappeared in the middle of the night and turned up in Saito’s toy box or other secret hiding places for his purloined possessions.

Up until last week, the kappa had never been molested, played with, or taken. Then one night at about 2 am, I heard a dull thump. I got up with the immediate thought of, “What has that little four-legged gaki (brat) done now?” Ceramic Tono was missing (I found him two days later, buried under the futon’s wooden frame) and so was the kappa. There, on top of the large tansu chest (a stepped chest much like a Western dresser or “chest of drawers”) with a look on his face that said, “What? Why is it always me?” was Saito. Why indeed! On the floor, in front of the tansu, lay the body of the kappa, his right arm broken into two pieces. Now I strongly doubt that the kappa, in some mysterious way for some equally mysterious reason, took himself to the top of the chest and then ended his own existence by jumping off. Saito not only likes to touch things or carry them off, he likes to push things off wherever they might be: shelves, tables, cupboards, etc.

Up to now, you might well say that this is just another example of brat-cat mischief and you would probably be correct in your assumption; however, at that same time, over 8,000 miles away in Tajimi, a water valve broke in our Tajimi home and the resulting torrent flooded the laundry room, until Aoi was able to shut the water pipe off elsewhere on the property. Despite desperate telephone calls for help, no haikankō (plumber) could come to fix the problem. One would come, however, as soon as he could: an open-ended pledge.

The next day, the kappa, after my profuse apologies to it for Saito’s inconsiderate and painful (possibly) behavior, was repaired as best as could be accomplished. Have you ever noticed that once broken, things just never fit back together quite the same way again? Nevertheless, at that very same time, a haikankō miraculously appeared and fixed the broken pipe and valve at the Tajimi house.

It would certainly be easy to just attribute all of this to a bratty cat and coincidence; yet, we can’t help but wonder why, at the same time the kappa was broken, the water valve broke and flooded the laundry room, some 8,000 miles away in a town officially represented by a kappa? Why, at almost the same time the ceramic kappa was repaired, did the overworked haikankō (it was below freezing, snowing, and unprotected water pipes were breaking all over town) suddenly appear?

Aoi and I have been working on a project involving a new translation and interpretation of the Kojiki (古事記 ), or Record of Ancient Matters, the oldest existing recorded Japanese chronicles and foundation of much of Shintō’s beliefs and traditions. I’ve also been involved in editing some articles by Lafcadio Hearn on Shintō. Our combined experience makes us wonder if there is some connection beyond what seems obvious to Western eyes. Something tells us, even in modern Japan (and the West), the traditions and beliefs of that ancient religion cannot be pushed aside. Japan is just too mysterious a place for that.

Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

ON SIMPLICITY

I believe in simplicity; yet, it is surprising as well as distressing, how many inconsequential concerns even the wisest man thinks that he must focus on in a single day – how rare the matter that he thinks that he must pass over. When a man of science or mathematics wishes to solve a difficult problem, the first step would be to clear the equation of all impediments and distractions, all unnecessary data; thus reducing it to its most simple terms. We should do the same: simply the problems of life and distinguish what is actually necessary and real.

One should search within himself to see where ones actual roots lie.

THOUGHTS FROM A TAKAYAMA ROOFTOP: Musings on a View of History

Musings on a View of History

kishamichi ni
hikuku kari tobu
tsukiyo kana

low over the railroad
wild geese flying –
a moonlight night

-Shiki

The warm days of summer are now gone and the soft, gentle breeze that drifted through the open doors of my study and rustled the papers on my desk has grown teeth. In summer, it would make its way through this old “samurai house,” blending indoors with out, lending a certain tenderness and ease to life. Today, sweater replaces yukata, iced tea is now traded for steaming coffee. Last night the wind shook the closed shutters over our doors and windows, as though demanding entry: equal time with the zephyrs of mid-year. Now our warmth comes from the electric heater and the fire which crackles and snaps from the pit in the main tatami room, on which rides the smoky incense of oak rather than the perfume of flowers and fresh grass.

As I look through the sliding glass door of my refuge, filled with the volumes of Japan past which stir my imagination and answer my questions, only then give birth to new queries, I can see the cats at play in the garden; enjoying the day in their newly fluffed coats. The old puss perches high up on the gate, surveying her domain, as though she is some ancient daimyō watching over her han (domain). The two young ones dart here and there; games of hide-and-seek or perhaps imagining themselves as tigers in the wild; hiding in the now brown grass; waiting for some elusive prey to venture too close to their place of cover. Occasionally one cat ventures out to the edge of the pond and looks in. Yes, the koi are all still there in their places. Then he’s off again to pounce on his preoccupied sibling who just found a mouse. All too soon, the pond will be covered with ice, the ground will be blanketed in snow, and the garden mice will be safe in their nests below the porch.

One cannot help but to smile a bit at the moment, and then I look at the volumes of history that line the walls of my room and think about autumns long ago. Did Tokugawa Ieyasu look out his window at Edo Castle, or later at Sanpu in Suruga, and see similar scenes? Some might say no, he was without doubt too busy plotting and scheming. I think he did see such things and probably thought deeply upon them in his later years. Nevertheless, that is a difference in the viewing of history.



History is merely an attempt to write about events that belong to the past. What is written depends on documents: manuscripts, essays, and articles from the period being written about. Modern-day topics and events are often regarded as being too ordinary and thus, unworthy of documentation except as television newsbytes or a few short columns in a newspaper.
I often find myself wondering how historians, perhaps two or three centuries from now, will regard the last few years, and especially this year of 2009, in viewing Japan or the United States. Will they describe 2009 as a year when America began to once again find direction and to re-assume a position of world leadership, this time for the betterment of the world in general and in particular for its own citizens; or, will they perhaps hold 2009 up as enduring evidence that a once great notion grew too big to sustain itself and its ideals, and in the end failed?

Will they say that Japan continued its socio-political decline, and that its culture continued to erode, giving way to the forces of globalization, just as a beach is consumed by the waves of an approaching typhoon, or will they perhaps say that 2009 was a year when Japan, at last, broke free from the miasma from which it suffered, beginning at the end of World War II? Did Japan at last find its feet and stand up to demand equity with the United States among the nations of the world and cast off its acquiescence to Western domination?

Recently I wrote a short essay on the topic of Bushidō and its core. The article, much to my delight, stirred more than a little controversy and debate, which in itself, was a very good thing; for in my mind, such writing has little point unless it stirs thought and stimulates discussion. The essay and resulting commentary became the subject of conversations among myself and other Japanese with a more than passing interest in Japanese culture and history. Some were outraged by the views expressed by a group from the San Francisco Bay Area: others were simply dismayed. More than one comment was made that they should “admit their shame and end their life.” The comment was also made that some, whose samurai heritage had been insulted, would be more than willing to assist the group in the called for acts of seppuku. Some may indeed by surprised that one’s samurai heritage can be insulted, more than one hundred and forty years after the conclusion (note I did not say fall) of the Tokugawa Era. Most Japanese, even those who we might term as “liberals” are far more conservative than their American liberal cousins are. Most Japanese still attach great significance to their family histories: their clans and their samurai heritage. That is being Japanese.

Certainly, the group, Asians Art Museum, which parodies the San Francisco Asian Art Museum, has every right to express their views and opinions; indeed, I encourage it. Yet, the Japanese who read it and expressed their opinions to me, felt that the group’s views were tainted, that there was a certain “agenda” not too well hidden beneath their words: expressions marked with an irony that does not translate to Japanese thought. Among the Japanese students of Japanese history, none of my associates regard themselves as scholars but simply as students, sincehistory is an unending process of study and analysis– a process we often engage in over coffee, tea, sake and snacks (we try to do things with a bit of flair), the view was frequently expressed that aspiring or pseudo-historians tend to notice or to select records which match their own pre-conceptions of the past and support (or can be bent to support) their own personal, revisionist agendas; that is, they have an ax to grind.






Certainly there exits confusion about the complexities of Japanese history, even among Japanese. In this particular case, however, we have Western historians giving interpretation to Japanese history. In the West, modern historians still are greatly influenced by 18th century theories of history and long-past Age of Enlightenment in Europe. They still regard the European medieval age as the “dark ages” and as a corollary, the age of Japanese feudalism: cruel, dark, dismal. Certainly some Japanese historians and intellectuals (such as Nitobé Inazo) are equally as guilty of this view, having themselves imported ideals of Western feudalism and overlaying them on unique, Japanese concepts. Add to that a certain taint of Marxism interlaced with the American penchant for political correctness, and the overall result becomes skewed. A result is the compartmentalization of Japanese history into Japan’s “Classical Era,” Japan’s “Feudal Era” or Dark Ages, and the Modern or “Post-Tokugawa Era”, when it is far more complex than that. This tends to perpetuate the selective (and often simplistic) reporting of history: ignoring the complexities of Japanese history, which can be likened to the weaving of some fine tapestry.

Nevertheless, the overall result of the discussions was twofold. First, that certainly, everyone should be free to express their thoughts and opinions, even though it may lack wisdom or good manners – expression is essential. The second conclusion was that Japanese history and its interpretation should be left to Japanese, since the West is not equipped to understand and appreciate Japanese thought and the depth of Japanese culture and the intricacies of its history.

(To be continued)

-Tokugawa H.

Copyright 2009 by H. Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

Sakura and Samurai

THOUGHTS FROM A TAKAYAMA ROOFTOP:

Some thoughts by Aoi Tokugawa-sensei on

Japanese Thought, Samurai, and Bushido.

I think of history as a series of lines, not dots. Many of the small things, the small day-to-day things that occurred maybe be regarded as dots, for example a fire, a storm, a flood; but not the major events (a war, a coup, a regime change, etc.). These things are connected to other events of the past with a straight line. The same can be said of the history of thought.

The evolution of thought definitely occurs at the various turning points in the history.
It does not pop into the mind as if God’s own voice. In order for thought to spread through society, it requires a background that people can accept. For example:

Why didn’t European Chivalry take root in Japan?
Why didn’t Islam religion take root in Japan?

I have never seen a Japanese who perform prayers five times in a day and abstain from food, nor do we accept Muslim dogma. Why? Because we Japanese have no background, no history which would permit us to accept it.

The “background” I mention could be anything from a shared history (and shared experiences) to a shared culture (shared thought, aesthetics, character). It could possibly extend to a shared DNA: Japanese DNA inherited from our ancestors – the ancient Japanese. Much of what we are is carried in our DNA; however, this is not something unique to Japanese but common to all the people in the world. No one completely understands the evolution of DNA or how national and social characteristics are passed along, but it would seem that they are. It is part of what makes a Japanese, Japanese, and all Japanese thinking, our viewpoint of the world and ourselves come, in part, from it.

Why do Japanese love Sakura? Because we are Japanese. That is all that needs to be said.

Samurai and Kamikaze pilots must have seen their life in Sakura. Yet, there are people who think that the Sakura is an icon of militarism. Certainly there is a relationship between Sakura and militarism: it is true so I won’t try to deny it. However, for the majority, when we see Sakura, everyone senses its beauty. No one thinks, “Oh! Militarism has blossomed. Oh! Sakura is terrible!”

What I want to discuss in this blog, in the future, is Japanese thought. But do not be too concerned, as I will not harp on the matter of DNA as I mentioned briefly above – it is too difficult a topic for most people, including myself.

The thought has form but no form; we cannot touch it or hold it, but the form reveals itself in human’s behavior.

When it comes to the Japanese thought, the first thing that comes to mind is Bushido.

“Loyality” exists in Bushido thinking as a major principle. Did every samurai obey it? The answer is no. The actual, historical samurai is different from the popular image of samurai (cool and gentlemanly); an image we receive from movies and literature. Because the historical samurai is different from the “pop” samurai, some are inclined to say that Loyalty was a quality that didn’t exist in samurai.

They felt hunger, they felt pain when a sword cut them; and to die, was terrible. Some of them hated even the thought of hari-kiri: “No, no, I don’t want to die that way!”
The existence of such samurai is to be expected, because they were human beings: not supermen. A few were even brats; yet aside from them, we can see the form of Loyalty in the good, ethical behavior of the samurai.

Thanks to Nitobe Inazo and his book on Bushido and the film The Last Samurai, I think everyone has a bit of knowledge now about Bushido and the Hagakure. However, few seem to know about Shido, which is vastly different from Bushido as described by Nitobe or in the Hagakure.

Shido was born as Japan became peaceful society during the Edo Period, parented by such men as Soko Yamaga, Sorai Ogyu who were Confucians. How is Shido different from Bushido? Let me show you a bit of the difference through example.

In the film The Last Samurai, there are lines of dialog that clearly illustrate Shido. In one of the last scenes of the film, after the death of Katsumoto (Ken Wtanabe) in battle against the government forces lead by the Meiji Era oligarch, Omura; the central character Algren (Tom Cruise) has an audience with Emperor Meiji and presents him with Katsumoto’s sword.

“Tell me how he (Katsumoto) died,” said the Emperor.

“I will tell you how he lived,” answered Algren.

Here then, in these two lines,is the difference between Bushido and Shido, layed out for us. How to die is Bushido. How to live is Shido. It is said that Bushido is the philosophy of death; Shido is the philosophy of life.

There are those who regard Shido (those who even know of it) as the opposite extreme of Bushido; yet, I disagree. Bushido and Shido are bound together by the same core of thought: To die with honor, one must live with honor. As one lives honorably, one may then die honorably, just as the cherry blossom (Sakura).

There were many samurai who based their lives on the principles of Shido; such as Byako-tai, the men of the Shinsengumi, the 47 Ronin. In simple terms, they were the personification of loyalty and products of loyalty.

Later, I will tell you of the 47-Ronin and through their thoughts and behavior, I believe we will be able to see and better understand Japanese thought and Shido. We might even talk more about Japanese DNA!

*There are many terms in the Japanese language and thus in Japanese history which are difficult to translate into English. I will use the Japanese words and then attempt to explain their meanings and concepts to the reader. Also, please bear in mind that this is not an academic paper, but simply my thoughts, my blog, so I will write it in my own, humble style.

JAPANESE AESTHETICS (Bigaku)

JAPANESE AESTHETICS (Bigaku)

One of the most distinguishing characteristics of traditional Japanese aesthetic thought is the tendency to attach far greater value to symbolic depiction than realistic portrayals. Another attribute to be considered is the supposition that in order to be true art, a work has to involve a discerning representation of what is beautiful and an aversion from the crude and profane. As a result, artists have traditionally tended to select nature as their subject matter, steering clear of depictions of everyday, common life.
It was the Heian court, often described as having an exaggerated taste for grace and refinement, which exerted an enduring impact on subsequent cultural traditions, designating elegance as a key measure of beauty. Numerous cultural and artistic concepts, such as okashi, fūryū, yūgen, and iki carry with them a nuance of elegance.[1]
Another quality, one to which great value is attached, is impermanence or transience, itself a variation of elegance; exquisite beauty being regarded as both fragile and transitory. Metaphysical profoundness was provided through a merging of Buddhism, with its emphasis on the inconsistency and uncertainty of life, with this ideal. Numerous aesthetic conventions, such as wabi, sabi, yūgen and aware (with its subsequent amplification of mono no aware) all imply transience.
Over time, the presence of an artistically created void, in either time or space, became an important concept in aesthetic theory. The concept of simplicity became a culmination of the concepts of simulation and substitution, which stressed symbolic representation. Aesthetic concepts such as wabi, sabi, ma, shibui and yojō[2] are all inclined toward simplicity in terms of their basic inferences, consistently demonstrating distaste for elaborate beauty.
Simplicity denotes a certain naturalness or lack of pretense. In traditional Japanese aesthetics then, the separation between art and nature is considerably smaller than in Western art, stemming from the belief that the mysteries of nature cannot be presented through portrayal, but only suggested and the more succinct the suggestion, the more effective it becomes.


[1] The aesthetic concepts of wabi, sabi, yūgen, aware and mono no aware will be discussed in subsequent articles.
[2] The aesthetic concepts of ma, shibui, and yojō will be discussed in subsequent articles.

Copyright 2009 by Hayato Tokugawa. All Rights Reserved.

Zen and the Art of De-cluttering

Zen and the Art of De-cluttering

The Wa-Dō Mind: Moving Toward Simplicity

How to De-clutter

One of the major foundations of Wa-Dō, The Way of Wa (Peace and Harmony) is Zen and its tenet of simplicity in life and aesthetics. Zen suggests that one should take care of themselves and those around us, just as Wa-Dō suggests the encouragement of harmony and peace within ourselves and our communities.

For most people, however, taking care of ourselves tends to be somewhere near the bottom of our “grocery list of life.” We have become used to chronically mistreating ourselves and we assume that stress is just part of what we are dealt in life. Nevertheless, we can control our lives and we certainly can control our levels of stress and distraction. To accomplish this, one has but to simplify their lives in whatever ways they feel are most needed. For myself, a major cause of stress and distraction was, and remains, clutter.

For decades, I had been a packrat. My house was cluttered, my office even more so. As I grew older (and hopefully wiser), I found that it was becoming increasingly difficult to live and especially to work in a cluttered environment. I could not find things, and that caused me stress. Visually things were disorderly and confused, often making it difficult for me to work well. Yet, I have found that one of the things that gives me the most peace, tranquility and clarity of thought is having a clean, simple home. I found that waking up in the morning and walking out into a living room that had been de-cluttered, that had a minimalist look and was not full of “stuff” laying round, was a calming experience that helped set the mood for the day. Before de-cluttering, when I walked into a room littered with toys, mine and the cats, books, papers, and plenty of extra “stuff”, the feeling was one of chaos: again setting the mood of the day.

I have also found that one must revisit their clutter from time to time, because, no matter what, it will creep up on them again.

Here are some de-cluttering tips:

n De-clutter in small portions. Set aside just 15 minutes a day to de-clutter just one shelf, one corner, one spot and when that place is cleaned up, celebrate a victory. Then tackle another place or spot for 15 minutes the next day. In addition, celebrate that victory. To conquer an entire room can be overwhelming, and certainly one does not want to “attack” an entire house in one day. First, it is impossible, secondly, it is too overwhelming, frustrating and discouraging. The end result would be that one would be inclined to put de-cluttering off forever. It is far better to approach the task of de-cluttering in “baby steps.”

n Set aside a couple of hours to do it. Yes, this is a contradiction of sorts of the idea of doing things in small steps; however, this suggestion is made as an alternative. One should do what works best for them. For many people, it is good to set aside part of a morning or afternoon to de-clutter a room or closet, but certainly not more than that. The feeling of accomplishment when the job is complete is quite gratifying.

n Take everything out of a shelf or drawer at once. Whatever approach one chooses, a “baby step” approach or to set aside one part of a day, one should focus on one drawer or one shelf or one spot and empty it completely. Then clean that shelf, drawer, or spot. Then, one should take the pile of “stuff” and put back just what they want to keep. After that, tackle the next shelf , drawer, or spot.

n Sort through your pile of stuff, one item at a time. Make quick decisions. One should bring with them to the task, a trash bag – at least one. Part of Wa-Do is to take care of the needs of friends, family, and the community. One should also consider bringing to the job at hand, a give-away box; a box for things which one feels they no longer need or want, but which may be of some benefit to others – especially the poor in your community. We should always consider our good fortune and our neighbors in deed. When one pulls everything out of a drawer or shelf, for example, sort through the pile one item at a time. Pick up an item and make a decision: trash, give-away, or keep. Do not put it back in the pile; this is simply putting off a necessary decision. Be decisive. Do this with the entire pile and soon, you ewill be done. If you keep sorting thorugh the pile and resorting, it will take forever. Put back only what you really want to keep and arrange things nicely.

n Be merceiless. One may be a pack rat, just as I am, but truth be known, one will never use most of the stuff they have accumulated. If something has not been used in the last year, consider getting rid of it. It is as simple as that. If one has only used something once or twice in the last year, but they know that they will not use it in the next year, it should be gotten rid of. Toss it if it is unsalvageable. Give it away if someone might be able to use it.

n Papers: Show no mercy, unless it is important. Magazines, catalogues, junk mail, bills more than a year old, notes to one’s self, notes from others, old work papers: toss them! The only exception is with tax-related stuff, which should be kept for at least seven years and other important documents like warranties, birth, death, and marriage certificates, insurance papers, wills and other important documents like that. Such documents are easily recognizable, otherwise, get rid of them.

n The “maybe” box. If one cannot bear to toss something because they truly think that they might need it later, then they should create a box labeled “Maybe,” put those things that one cannot immediately decide on into the box, close the box, and put it in storage out of sight. Chances are that one will never open the box again. If that is the case, take the box out after six months and throw or give away the contents.

n Create a system to stop clutter from accumulating. There is usually a reason one has stacks of papers all over the place and big piles of toys, books and clothes. It is because one does not have a regular system to keep things in their place and to get rid of things they do not need. This is topic in and of itself and will be approached again. For now, it is something to consider as one goes about the process of de-cluttering. There is no perfect system, but if one will think more intelligently about how their house (or office) became cluttered in the first place, perhaps they can find ways to stop it from happening again.

n Celebrate when done. This should be a generally rule of life: always celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small. Even if one de-cluttered only one drawer, that is an accomplishment. One should treat themselves to something nice: maybe something delicious. Open the drawer, closet, or look at the place just de-cluttered. Admire it and its new simplicity. Breathe deeply and know that one has done a good thing. Enjoy the peaceful feeling.

Ten Kinds of Simplicity

Ten Kinds of Simplicity

Although the attraction toward more simple ways of living a strong for some, the attraction for the opposite can be equally as strong for others. It would seem that many people are not giving even cursory consideration to more simplicity in their lives because they see it as too great a sacrifice. Instead, they seek deeper resources of satisfaction that they perceive can be found in a consumerist life-style, one which in the long-term brings higher stress and fewer true rewards. In Japan until the recent recession, the percentage of the population reporting that they were very happy remained relatively unchanged: roughly 33%. At the same time however, divorce rates doubled and suicides have tripled. An entire generation tasted the fruits of an affluent society and is now discovering that money does not buy happiness. The present recession presents a special opportunity to take a new course in one’s life: to pull back from the rat race and move into a life that is, although materially more modest, rich with family, friends, community, creativity, and service.

To present a more realistic representation of the extent and expression of a simpler life-style for today’s complex society, here are ten different approaches to consider. Although they may overlap a bit, each expression of simplicity seems distinct enough to merit a separate category.

Simplicity by Choice

Simplicity means choosing a path through life consciously, deliberately and as a matter of one’s own choice. As a path or “way” that places emphasis on freedom, the choice of simplicity also means staying focused and not being distracted by the consumer culture. It means consciously organizing one’s life so that they can give their true personal gifts to the world: the essence of ourselves.

Commercial Simplicity

A more simplistic life would mean that there is then a more rapidly growing personal market for healthy and sustainable products and services of all kinds; from home design, building materials and energy systems to food. There exists the potential for an enormous expansion of conscious economic activity toward sustainability.

Compassionate Simplicity

With simplicity in one’s life can come a kinship, a bond with the community and a desire for reconciliation, even with other species as well as a strong desire to be of true service to others and a stronger desire for cooperation and fairness, which seeks a future which is beneficial to all and decreases the gap rich and poor.

Ecological Simplicity

Simplicity mans to choose ways of living that tread far more lightly on the earth, reducing one’s “ecological footprint.” An ecological simplicity brings with it a deep interconnection with all life and a consciousness of threats to its well-being (such as climate change, species extinction and resource depletion) coupled with a desire to do something about it. Ecological simplicity cultivates a type of “natural capitalism:” economic practices that value the importance of natural ecosystems and which can impact the community in terms of its health and productivity.

Elegant Simplicity

Simplicity can mean that the way one lives their life represents a work of unfolding artistry. It is an understated aesthetic that contrasts with the excess of consumerist lifestyles. Drawing on the influence of Zen, Confucianism, and Taoism, it celebrates natural materials and clean, functional expressions of simplicity found in the hand-made arts and crafts from the community.

Frugal Simplicity

By cutting back on spending that is not truly serving one’s life, and by practicing skillful management of one’s personal finances, one can achieve greater financial independence. Frugality and careful financial management bring increased financial freedom and the opportunity to more consciously choose one’s path through life. Living with less also decreases the impact of our consumption on the earth and frees resources for others.

Natural Simplicity

Simplicity in one’s life can signify a remembrance and reconnection to one’s deep roots in the natural world. It means to experience one’s connection with the ecology of life in which one lives and to balance their experience of the man-made environments with time in nature. It means to celebrate the experience of living through the seasons.

Political Simplicity

Simplicity means to organize one’s life in ways that enable people to life more lightly and sustainability, which in turn, involves changes to the life of the community: from transportation and education to the design of our homes, town, and workplaces. Such can also be a media politic because mass media can be the primary way to reinforce or transform the community’s awareness of consumerism. Political simplicity is a politic of conversations within the community that builds local, face-to-face connections: networks of relationships, which enable others to make conscious decisions about change in their lives as well.

Spiritual Simplicity

One may approach life as a meditation and cultivate their experience of intimate connections with all that exits around us: plants, animals, friends, and neighbors. Spiritual simplicity is more concerned with consciously enjoying life in its unadorned richness rather than with any particular standard or manner of material living. By cultivating a spiritual connection with life, one tends to look beyond surface appearances and to bring their inner self into relationships of all kinds.

Uncluttered Simplicity

To live an uncluttered life means to take charge of a life that is too busy, too stressed and too fragmented. It means cutting back on inconsequential distractions and focusing on the essentials, whatever those may be for each unique life.

SIMPLE LIVING

Simple Living

We live in a fast paced, consumer oriented society; indeed, we are constantly under pressure to consume. The mantras of the 21st century are: “More is better” and “New is better.” We are bombarded, twenty-four hours a day, by advertisements that tell us we are less than successful if we don’t own the latest luxury Lexus, or the 50-inch plasma TV and home entertainment center. We are told that we are less than acceptable if we do not possess and wear the latest designer fashions, the newest make-up, or don’t eat in the trendiest new restaurants. We need bigger and better computers, video games, cell phones capable of texting around the world, taking photographs, videos, playing games, and keeping us constantly on the Internet. All these things are wonders to behold, the best our technology can give us – for now. In two year, a year, six months, some of our “cool stuff” will be totally outmoded, obsolete. What are we told we must do, in order to be successful? We need to discard what is outmoded and replace it with what is now “new and improved.”

So we spend what we earn, and then we spend what we don’t have but will earn – maybe. We owe on our homes, our cars, our appliances, and our futures. We suddenly wake up to find that we have mortgaged our entire lives; and for what? Are we happier? Do we now have peace of mind? Are we more secure in our lives? Probably not!
To quote Confucius: Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated. How true! Amatai-no-Shugo-Ryū offers a simple tenet, in line with Wa-Dō, by which one is able to change the course of their personal consumerism, to in effect, get off the “consumerist merry-go-round.” The principle is itself simple, so simple in fact, that for our intents and purposes, it is referred to as “simple living.”

One may also refer to the principle as “voluntary simplicity,” although, simple living sounds better. It is a lifestyle which is distinguished by minimizing the modern ethic of contemporary “more-is-better” pursuit of wealth and consumption. Advocates of simple living may chose to do so for a variety of personal reasons such as: spirituality, health, increase in “quality time” for family and friends, stress reduction, personal taste or frugality. Other people may allude to more socio-political goals that are aligned with other anti-consumerist movements, including conservation, social justice and sustainable development. All worthy causes and reasons in of themselves to simplify one’s life. One can describe voluntary simplicity as a manner of living that is outwardly more simple and inwardly more rich: a way of being in which our true and active self is brought into the light of our consciousness and applied to how we life as individuals and as members of a community or society.

Simple living is a concept far different from those living in forced poverty. It is a voluntary choice of lifestyle. Although asceticism generally encourages living simply and refraining from luxury and indulgence, not all supporters or parishioners of voluntary simplicity are ascetics.
The recorded history of simple living can be found in the teachings of Taoism, of Confucioius and Mencius. Buddha was an ascetic. In Japan we find a strong advocacy for simple living in the teachings of Zen Buddhism and Bushidō, which made the ways and means of simple living something distinctly Japanese.

Some people practice simple living to reduce the need for purchased goods or services and by doing so, reduce their need to, in effect, sell their time for money. Some will spend the extra free time helping family and friends. During the holiday seasons, such people often perform forms of alternative giving, such as volunteer work with the poor and homeless. Others may spend the extra free time to improve the quality of their lives by, for example, pursuing creative activities such as sadō, shodō, or studying a martial art.

One approach to adapting a more simplified way of living is to focus more fundamentally on the underlying reasons and motivation of buying and consuming so many resources for what we are led to believe is a good quality of life. Modern society tells us that me must, in essence, buy happiness; however, materialism and consumerism frequently fails to satisfy us and in the long-term, may even increase the level of stress in our lives. It has been said “the making of money and the accumulation of things should not smother the purity of the soul, the life of the mind, the cohesion of the family, or the good of society.” Quite simply, the more money we spend, the more time we have to be out there earning it and the less time we have to spend with the ones we love.

Some simple suggestions to help simplify our style of living are:

• 
  Stop buying things that are not necessary. Yes we may feel having a television is important; indeed it really seems to be a necessity these days. The question is do we need the 50-inch home entertainment center or is there something lesser, which does the job just as well. If our neighbors the Yamadas buy a new TV, do we need to buy the same one or a little better? If our boss at work buys a new car, do we need to cast aside our car and mortgage our lives more to buy the same car, or one just a little bit better? Probably not. One should buy what they need: what gets the job done and not necessarily anything more than that.


• 
  Throw away, or better donate to someone in need, what you, yourself don’t need.


• 
  Focus on what is truly important.


• 
  Listen to the voice within you and pay attention to it.


• 
  Obtain what you really do need (food, shelter, company). It’s nice, it’s great to have “stuff”, but perhaps we should think about what is really needed as to what we are told we want.


• 
  Keep a sense of perspective and humor about what you see and hear.


• 
  Keep in touch with your friends and family.


• 
  Don’t try to keep up with everyone else, especially because you are told you have to.


• 
  Have fun.


• 
  Grow as a person


• 
  Remember, everything will be alright!