Ikebana and Sakura

Ikebana ("flowers kept alive", also known as kadō) is a Japanese way of creating a floral arrangement as a seasonal welcome for guests in the home. It wasn't necessarily designed for a small space but is something we can adapt and use. The tradition dates back to the 7th century when floral offerings were made at altars.  Later, they were placed in the tokonama of a home.  The is a raised alcove in the living room, used as a small stage. 

photo credit: https://japon-fr.com/photos-du-japon+tokonoma.htm

This link discusses the presentation of the tokonama in more detail. I'm no expert but was intrigued by it when watching a lovely TV programme "The Art of Japanese Life" presented by the art historian Dr. James Fox and it was really interesting to learn about the rules and traditions used.   I think it is much more than a floral arrangement, it is about the appreciation of the artistry, the nature of the arrangement itself and a meditation about nature and the changing of the seasons.  The space "ma" between the sprigs and blooms and lines of the arrangement is just as important as the items themselves, and provides space and a feeling of spaciousness to expand and think. This is a deliberate "pause" and can be applied to all aspects of life.   A hanging scroll (kakemono) may often be placed behind the arrangement.     
I think I was fascinated by the idea of ikebana and its traditions because it is a lovely way of introducing some seasonality, art, meditation and a bit of the outdoors into the home; particularly when we tend to have small homes in the city.  Of course it is difficult to recreate in our working homes but it is fun to learn the art of "less is more".  It provides a focal point to look at, particularly if we have few possessions cluttering the room (not much chance of that round here), and may create the feeling of extending the room out into the garden.  The very act of making the ikebana provides a step back from a busy life and can be a mindful way of creating something beautiful for the home.  By thinking about "ma" in a more general way in our lives, we can eliminate the unnecessary and focus on the important things which shine in that negative space, both literally and figuratively.

photo credit https://www.japancalligraphy.eu/wallpapers.htm

I was pondering this because the small fruit trees in my tiny garden have been demanding attention with their beautiful blossom.  The greengage flowers first in March, and the apple tree next to it answers with it's own blooms in April. 



                             Greengage blossom in the garden, March 2018

                                     Apple blossom in the garden, April 2018

The trees create a lovely focal point in the garden where there was once a damp, dark space covered in ivy. Because there isn't too much else in the garden at this time of year, they seem to shine with an internal light against the dark wall. They create  a real sense of enjoyment and impermanence just like the Japanese sakura (cherry blossom) season which is when locals and tourists alike celebrate Hanami picnics ("looking at flowers"); marking the arrival of Spring and new beginnings of the Japanese financial and academic years.  Here's a link to a Telegraph article describing the cherry blossom season.

Cherry blossoms in Tokyo CREDIT: AP

I was going to end this piece with a "who needs to go to Tokyo when we have our beautiful English blossom?" But it does look stunning. Let's enjoy them both!

Blossom in front of the house, April 2018

Seeing the Rainbow

Sometimes it's good to not analyse or try to control everything.  Just sit back and enjoy something for what it is.  It's all the more precious because it's impermanent. Flowers, pets, cake, rainbows, rainbow cake! friends, life.

Reaching out for for happiness doesn't seem to work.  Happiness, or contentment, is a by-product of doing what you feel is important to you.  I believe it's a feeling that life is full, you are comfortable, you are happy with what you have - you have no longing for "things". This leaves you free to be creative and feel a sense of accomplishment.  In "The Antidote" by Oliver Burkeman, he describes the "negative path": the idea that the more we strive for happiness and other feelings like security and confidence, the less we achieve them. So, paradoxically, it is by thinking more about the downers in life, such as the inevitability of death, the inescapability of suffering or the impossibility of security, that we achieve something like happiness. He concludes that although extreme insecurity is a bad thing, it provides one huge benefit: you cannot be worried about losing your security if you don't have any to lose in the first place.  This is quite a freeing way of thinking, and is certainly how I've felt since my cancer diagnosis.

That's why cancer makes you look at things differently.  The security you thought you had is taken away.  You are forced to face up to impermanence and embrace impermanent things.

I enjoyed making an ephemeral piece of art today. I was inspired to create some environmental art in the style of Andy Goldsworthy.  In the past, I don't think I would have understood the thinking behind this at all.  Spending a long time making something and knowing that it will just deteriorate?  But I was really absorbed in the work for a good couple of hours and enjoyed other people coming up to ask about it.  It was a very pure mindful activity, making something for the sake of it and creating something beautiful but non-lasting.  I made it in Bramford Community Garden and plan to do a similar activity for some Girl Guides we are working with tomorrow evening.  

What do you think?

Flourish is a word commonly used these days instead of happiness, When we flourish, we often feel happy, but that's simply an effect of the real goal, which is to live in accordance with our natures, doing the things we do best to the best of our abilities. Rather than seeing this as the indirect route to happiness, we should see it as the direct route to what it actually is. Happiness is neither the journey nor the destination, it's simply something we encounter on the path when we travel the right way.