The Lesson
by
Grey Coyote
Takase-Sensei methodically finished laying out the materials that he and his student Yanase-san would be using to finish their shodo calligraphy project. It was the most important piece they would work on that year, as it represented the culmination of the blooming talents of the apprentice and the subtle, guiding hand of the master and how well they had been married together through their relationship. It was to be judged by Takase-Sensei’s peers, for Yanase-san was in his final year with Takase-Sensei and would advance in seniority and move on to study at another temple if all went as it should. This is, at least, what Takase-Sensei expected.
Satisfied that all was in place, Takase-Sensei attended to the preparation of the making of the tea and sat to await Yanase-san’s arrival. As he watched the kettle start to slowly steam, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind in preparation for the final lesson.
`Yanase-san is not yet ready. My way is clear,’ he thought, then meditated upon the image of a waterfall.
Soon, he heard soft footsteps approach.
“Takase Sensei imasu ka?”
“Hai. Dozo…”
Yanase-san, seated on his shins, slid open the door to his master’s office, bowed, slid himself in and forward with his hands, and slid the door closed again. Then, the handsome youth leaned forward, bowing and touching his forehead against the ground in respect towards his master, and then slid himself forward with his hands until he was seated across from Takase-Sensei.
“Are you prepared to do your best?”
“Hai.”
“Then I will pour some tea and we will begin.”
It was a large piece comprised of long poems that the two had written earlier that year. The readiness to brush a line in one’s own stylistic hand, the preparation of the ink and the execution of each kanji required much practice, trial and error and clear-headed confidence. One did not simply put down a poem and expect the shapes of the words to shimmer with life. It was a lifelong challenge of which there were limitless possibilities.
Takase-Sensei and Yanase-san began the long process of preparing their inks, grinding their sticks against their river slate in a figure eight motion, going back and forth and back and forth from the reservoir of ink to the grinding surface. After carefully adding the exact amount of water needed, they were ready to begin.
They usually worked mostly in silence, but today Takase-Sensei had some final questions for his apprentice…
“How is Kumamoto-san coming along under your tutelage?”
“He is very slow with his history – which is why he could probably do with two tutors.”
“Not everyone has your memorization skills Yanase-san. Kumamoto-san’s strength is in his kabuki writing. He is a natural actor. He has already been chosen by a top Kyoto master.”
“Clowning and frowning will not make him a well-rounded literati. He needs more discipline with his studies.”
“Is he really so bad at his work that he needs to be insulted with degrading words and struck with your stick on the head?”
“So he went crying to someone did he?”
“No. Two other students saw it and word spread.”
“His ego gets in the way of his learning. I was teaching him the rule of the stick. If he can’t be disciplined, he will not know the way.”
“Well, I fear that you may think my way too soft and easy to manipulate. Maybe that is not good for you.”
“No Sensei. You are an excellent teacher.”
“Is that so? Even if I tell you that I am disappointed of your beating of younger students? Even if I tell you that I don’t think that you are as smart as you think you are because you can’t find better ways to express your teachings than through anger?”
There was a short pause as Yanase-san stiffened and his intense gaze focused upon his master. Takase-Sensei stared back emotionlessly.
“You are entitled to your methods and beliefs Sensei. You have done well here in the lower levels and you are well respected. I’m sure that you will live a long, peaceful life. If I hit a student I do it for a very good reason indeed.”
“Whereas I can’t see any good reason to ever hit anyone unless you are defending yourself, but then you come from a different school of martial arts than I do, and I have only lived three times as long as you.”
“True. Though I am sure that despite your small stature, you could defend yourself if need be.”
“Thank-you for the compliment. Such flattery deserves a drink. I have prepared some tea. Shall we drink?”
“Certainly. -Best to forget our differences.”
“Indeed. Time to move on.”
Takase-Sensei gracefully went through the motions of preparing tea while Yanase-san made practice strokes on a separate piece of paper. Takase-Sensei, finished, turned with the full pot of tea and started over to their workspace. Almost there, the toe of his slipper seemed to catch on a corner of the tatami bamboo mat and he tripped. Yanase-san watched in horror as the pot of tea came slowly tumbling in the air towards him and then landed with a great splash in the middle of their work, ruining it instantly.
There was a long pause as the two of them drank in the severity of the accident. Their pieces were now useless. There would be no choice left now but to work through the night to have them ready for the next days judging.
“You… you… I can’t believe it! How could you do it! You did it on… You did it on… aaah!”
“I am so terribly sorry. My eyes aren’t what they used to be…”
“You old fool! You’ve ruined everything!”
“Ohhh, no-no-no… it’s impossible to ruin everything. You are overreacting.”
“Overreacting? Overreacting? Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Certainly. I ruined some good work, but it is easily replaced. Why are you so upset?”
“Why? You’ve ruined my whole night! I’ll be up all night redoing this!”
“Well, so will I… What’s so hard about that? You are letting your emotions get the better of you.”
“Ohhhhh… I am am I? Hmmm… Very clever… Very clever…”
“You see, I am not upset because I know that all I have to do is drink half as much sake as I usually do, concentrate a little harder and keep myself focused and enjoy the work I have to redo because it is enjoyable and I have a chance to do it differently now, which is always rewarding. Remember… misfortune means opportunity.”
“Yes… and everything is imperfect. Except some people are more imperfect than others. Well… enjoy working by yourself. I will work in my own chamber and we’ll paste the new pages together tomorrow. I can’t work here anymore. It’s a good thing that I’ll be leaving soon. I am assured a place with much more prominent men than you as you well know and it will be a blessing to be among them.”
“And I’m sure that you’ll go on to be a much more famous monk than I am… or maybe someone higher up than you will think you stupid and beat you down…”
Yanase-san froze for a moment as he looked at his master, then cast his gaze at the floor, collected up his ink and brushes, and slid his way out of his master’s chamber, pausing very briefly to touch his forehead to the tatami bamboo mat before sliding the door open, sliding himself out, and then bowing quickly again and sliding the door shut.
Takase-Sensei smiled softly after his ex-apprentice and then slowly and methodically cleaned up the mess he had made. Then, he went to the shelves where he kept his best work, and from between to large protective sheaves, pulled out his completed half of the project that would be glued to his apprentice’s tomorrow morning and laid it out so that he could look at it. He was quite satisfied with it, as he was with most things. There were weaknesses in the brush strokes here and there, but they were all part of it’s charm.
Feeling that he had done as best he could, Takase-Sensei closed his eyes and again meditated upon a grand waterfall rushing from it’s very heights to its lower depths… it’s mists floating in the air and falling gently upon his face.
Then, he poured himself a full tokkuri of sake and toasted the gods.