It was my husband’s birthday yesterday. We went to a nearby Italian restaurant for a celebration.
This morning, I’m recalling the time we spent together yesterday, as well as our first date over 28 years ago.
On our first date, my focus was all on him. What kind of person is he? Where is he going to take me? What drink does he like? Does he like what I’m wearing? I was trying to find every sparkle between us. He looked to be doing the same.
Yesterday’s main conversation was not about us. My husband got a message from the daughter of his best friend. Now she lives in Toronto working but is back in Seattle for Christmas. She was asking if we could get together for lunch before she heads back to Toronto. “When is a good time for you?” he asked. “What about 26th?” I replied. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. I will respond to her.”
My husband’s best friend, whom he had known before I met him, became our closest family friend. The friend’s daughter became like our own niece. Unfortunately, the friend passed away a couple of years ago, but our friendship is kept alive.
Over the 28 years, my husband and I accumulated mutual experiences. We met new people together, explored new places together, and faced new challenges together. Of course, we have many disagreements, and we argue a lot. We are still two distinct individuals. But the overlapping part of his and my experience has become larger.
And this overlapping part is becoming my treasure. How much larger will it become? To be continued…
Matcha Green Tea in Natsume Tea Container: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Matcha, sencha, genmaicha, hojicha, … Now I see a wide variety of green teas even here in Seattle. It seems to be a thing of the past that green tea used to be a signature drink of Japan.
What’s the difference between those teas? Are they made from different types of tea trees? You may wonder.
Actually, they are all made from the same species, Camellia sinensis. The difference lies in how the trees are grown and how the tea leaves are processed.
Tea leaves contain theanine, a kind of amino acid that generates its rich flavor. Theanine is known to suppress the stimulant effects that caffeine has. Once the tea leaves are kept under strong sunlight, theanine changes to catechin, which causes a bitter flavor.
Just before the new leaves come out, tea growers cover the trees for about 20 days to avoid strong sunlight. The new leaves that are grown under the cover retain the most theanine, yielding a sweeter taste. The new leaves generate more chlorophyll for photosynthesis to compensate for less sunlight, hence the leaves have a more vivid green color.
Only the first three or four leaves that were grown under the cover are handpicked, steamed right away to avoid fermentation, and ground finely to finally make matcha.
The extra process and care make matcha’s magical color, aroma, and flavor.
Sencha leaves are grown under normal sunlight. Most theanine turns to catechin, producing a more bitter taste. Much wider parts of new leaves are used, and the leaves can be machine-picked for sencha. Just like with matcha, the leaves are immediately steamed to avoid fermentation. Since the leaves and stems are larger and thicker than matcha, sencha leaves are kneaded during the drying process.
By adding brown rice, sencha becomes genmaicha. By lightly roasting sencha, hojicha is made.
Sometimes sencha is ground finely and sold as powdered green tea. As you can imagine, this type of powdered green tea is far from matcha. The color is not as vivid green as matcha, and it tastes much more bitter than matcha.
It is understandable why matcha is much more expensive than other kinds of green tea. If you would like to enjoy a bowl of tea simply by mixing with hot water, make sure to choose good quality matcha. Cheaper powdered green tea is better to be mixed in cookies or cakes.
Ikebana Arrangement with Poinsettia and Palm Leaves: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
When the day is the shortest and the air is biting our cheeks, plants with evergreen leaves and vivid red foliage are suitable to decorate our homes. They remind us that in spite of the harsh winter season, nature is full of life.
I love the combination of poinsettia and palm leaves, and I enjoy improvising to create Ikebana arrangements using these two materials.
With the first arrangement above, I tied two palm leaves to create a circle, and added the third leaf to support it. The narrow, tall glass vase helps emphasize the circle. The poinsettia in the middle is the focal point.
Ikebana Arrangement with Poinsettia and Palm Leaves: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
With the second arrangement, I bent two palm leaves in the middle, to create a horizontal movement. The sparse impression of the lacy palm leaves and the dense volume of the poinsettia foliage shows a stark contrast.
I’m not a Christian but I would like to join people who are praying for peace during this special holiday season.
I’m starting with the man in the mirror I’m asking him to change his ways And no message could have been any clearer If you wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make a change
“Man in the Mirror” by Michael Jackson, lyric by Siedah Garrett
In college, I was a fan of Michael Jackson. The main media of my music back then were cassette tapes, not even CDs. You can guess how old I am. I used to play the tape so many times that the music eventually sounded quite different from the original.
I remember I once skipped going back to see my parents in Osaka for the New Year because I got a ticket for Michel’s concert in Tokyo on new year’s eve.
“Man in the Mirror” was undoubtedly my favorite song. It was different. It was not about a girl who claims the father of the child, zombies, or about street fighters. The song was down to earth and penetrated into my deepest emotions.
For the longest time I forgot about this song, until recently I came across the quote below:
It is easier to change your thinking than to change the world. Changing your thinking will definitely change the world.
by Sadhguru
Sadhguru is a yogi from India. I like his messages so much that I have his app downloaded on my phone and listen to his talks occasionally.
Sadhguru and Michael Jackson… It was a surprise to find out these different figures have a similar message. Today this message strikes a chord with me deeply, I just want to share it with you. How are those messages striking your chord?
Village Bookstore in Fairhaven, Bellingham was a magical place.
Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Fairhaven is an old part of Bellingham City, Washington State. It takes only two hours by car from Seattle, but I had never been there until this weekend.
The historic district of Fairhaven stretches no more than several blocks. After having lunch at the hotel restaurant overlooking Bellingham Bay and Lummi Island, my husband and I parked our car on 11th street and began meandering. Getting lost was our main purpose for this weekend’s getaway.
“I’m cold. I want a cup of coffee.” “Oh, it says there is a coffee shop upstairs. Let’s go in.”
We didn’t even know that the building was a bookstore. We got in the elevator and went up to the second floor. There on the left-hand side was a display of a huge chocolate cake and the counter for ordering drinks, and on the right-hand side were shelves and shelves of books.
While I was waiting to order our coffee, my husband went ahead to find a table for us. He got a small table by the window. Next to ours, I found a larger table with nobody sitting. Why not enjoy the larger space?
I walked up to the table and found the sign. It said, “THIS SPACE RESERVED for writing workshop tonight from 5:45 – 7:30.”
Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Beyond the large table was a counter also overlooking the window. It was “Writer’s Corner.”
Just because I’ve been writing on Medium for just over 70 days, I felt as if this coffee shop was MY place!
I just remembered somebody wrote on Medium that you have to read twenty times as much as you write. OK, it’s a sign. I have to buy books here!
Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
I have never been an avid reader of English literature. It still takes me twice as long to read in English compared to reading in Japanese. Fictions have never been my cup of tea. But my compulsive reaction was to purchase two classics by Mark Twain.
The shiny, vivid red of anthurium brightens up our living room all year round. For a long time, I thought the red part was a flower. Actually, its flowers are tiny clusters contained in spike-shaped spadix. The vivid red part is a special type of leaf.
Poinsettia: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Poinsettia
In this holiday season, how can you decorate your house without poinsettia? The high contrast between the velvety green leaves and the deep red flowers is stunning! Well, the red part is not a flower, either. That’s also a special type of leaf.
If the red parts are also leaves, do they have chlorophyll? Do they do photosynthesis? Why are they in different colors from the normal leaves?
Many questions aside, no doubt there exists such a stark contrast in a single plant. These plants are much more interesting, and they inspire my imagination to create various Ikebana arrangements. Thank you very much, Mother Nature!
Ikebana arrangement with anthurium: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Ikebana arrangement with poinsettia: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
My urushi lacquered jubako boxes: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Urushi lacquerware was all around me in my daily life in Japan. I loved urushi lacquerware then and I still love it today. I often use wooden jubako boxes and plates coated in Urushi lacquer to decorate food for parties.
Jubako with party food: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Appetizer on Urushi lacquered wooden plate: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
What is Urushi
Urushi (漆) is Japanese lacquer, a varnish obtained from the urushi tree (botanical name: toxicodendron vernicifluum). For so long Japanese people have been using items coated with urushi. Some items show a natural wood grain through a translucent urushi coating. Some items have a shiny black or red finish. Some have intricate designs decorated with gold and silver. Urushi lacquer is used in a variety of ways in Japan.
Japanese kanji characters are ideogramic. The names of trees have a kanji character that means tree “木” on the left side. For example, 桜cherry, 松pine, 楓maple, 梅plum, 柳willow.
The kanji for urushi 漆 tree, however, has the character for water on the left. It is the only exception among trees. The character indicates that it is the sap of the urushi tree that is most important.
Some people might say that anything civilized in Japan originally came from China. But the facts tell a different story when it comes to urushi. The oldest urushi object in the world was discovered at Kakinoshima “B” Excavation Site in Hokkaido, Japan. It is a decorative item woven with red thread, coated with urushi. The object is over 9,000 years old, about 2,000 years older than the oldest urushi object found in China.
It is widely thought that the urushi tree originated in China and came to Japan. However, the urushi branch discovered in Torihama Shell-Mound in Fukui Prefecture is about 12,600 years old, making it the world’s oldest record of an urushi tree. We can’t eliminate the possibility that urushi trees didn’t come from China but originated in Japan.
Benefits of Urushi
Urushi sap, known as Urushiol, causes an allergic reaction in many people. Only after urushi has hardened completely does the danger of a skin rash disappear. How and why did the people in ancient times start using urushi in their lives? There are several reasons.
Durability: Once hardened, urushi is such a durable coating material. The fact that we can still trace a 9,000-year-old object is powerful evidence. The woven decorative item found in Kakinoshima survived from decomposition because the threads were protected by urushi. Research shows that urushi is highly resistant to both acidity and alkali.
Adhesiveness: Urushi is a powerful adhesive. Have you heard of kintsugi? It’s the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi dusted or mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. Neither gold nor silver has the ability to glue together broken pieces. Urushi is what glues together the broken parts.
Antibacteria: It is scientifically proven that hardened urushi is antibacterial. Place e.coli bacteria on a surface coated with urushi, and the bacteria eventually disappear. In the subtropical and temperate climates of Japan, when no easy refrigeration was available, food containers coated with antibacterial urushi were valuable.
Its durability, its adhesiveness, and its antibacterial nature…. I’m still awed by the intelligence of ancient human beings for having discovered the wonderful utility of this rather poisonous sap. And I’m awed by the creativity of human beings in making so many beautiful things out of this useful material.
The Future of Urushi
Sadly, both consumption and production of Urushi lacquerware is decreasing in Japan. Many craftspeople are getting old, and they are having a hard time finding young people to take over their centuries-old skills.
Why is this trend a problem? Why does it matter to preserve such old crafts? What can we do to avoid such crafts from extinction?
Those questions occupy my thoughts. I’m hoping Medium is the right platform to share my thoughts.
Thanks to Mr. Sen Genshitsu for his devotion to promoting “Peacefulness through a Bowl of Tea”
View of Seattle: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
As long as I was growing up and living in Japan, the Japanese tea ceremony was a synonym for “outdated” in my perception. Just like Ikebana, I started practicing tea ceremony only after I moved to Seattle.
You may wonder how it’s possible to learn such a traditional culture in a city so far away from Japan.
I’m forever thankful to a person for giving me and many people such an opportunity.
His name is Sen Genshitsu, 千玄室, the fifteenth-generation grand master of the Urasenke School of Japanese Tea. Now that his son has taken over as the current grand master (Iemoto), we call him “Daisosho.”
In 1923, Daisosho was born in Kyoto as the first son of the 14th-generation grandmaster of Urasenke. During World War II, he served in the air force division of the Japanese navy. His division was also called “Kamikaze Tokkotai,” a special brigade of suicide pilots.
His colleagues in the division took off on a mission of no return. Daisosho would serve a bowl of tea to his colleagues before their last flights. Daisosho was also ready to die, but the war was over before he took off his own last flight. Among his division, only he and another person survived.
After the war, Daisosho took up his mission to promote world peace through a bowl of tea. In 1950 he visited Hawaii and established the first Urasenke overseas study group. Since then, he has made more than three hundred trips overseas and visited over 60 countries. Daisosho also established a training course for the tea ceremony for foreign students in Kyoto. More than 500 alumni returned to their home countries and many are spreading the Urasenke teachings worldwide.
Seattle is one of the cities that benefited Daisosho’s dedication to promoting “peacefulness through a bowl of tea.” Urasenke donated the tea house in Seattle Japanese Garden as well as in Seattle Art Museum. There are active teachers and study groups here in Seattle. Chado Urasenke Tankokai Seattle Association, or Seattle Tankokai for short, has just celebrated its 50th anniversary this summer.
About 10 years ago I joined one of the study groups, then joined Seattle Tankokai. There people with various backgrounds gather regularly and learn the way of tea, a simple act of serving a bowl of tea.
At the age of 99 this year, Daisosho is still actively hosting dignitaries from many countries.
By serving another person a bowl of tea, we realize that we are all humans, regardless of nationality, race, or ethnicity. Thanks to Daisosho’s life experience and the mission he has taken up, I am able to learn the essence of the tea ceremony here in Seattle.
Only a day after I visited my doctor for an annual checkup, I received an email from her.
The email was encrypted, and I could read it only after I logged in to my health vault. On the website, there was a list of test results. Thirty-five items altogether.
Three items were flagged. Two of them were about my cholesterol. Both values are high, which makes the ratio to be normal, so it’s not a concern. My white blood cell level is a little low, but it has been low for over several years. It might be due to my genetic tendency, so don’t worry.
Thank God that my doctor interpreted them all. The list is all Greek to me. Without my doctor’s message, I would have had no clue how to read any of them.
Once again, my health has been assured, thanks to my doctor. I assume I’m healthy until another checkup occurs next year.
These test results are vital to detect any symptom of disease, I understand. But looking at this long list of incomprehensible terms acronyms and numbers, I started to wonder about my own health.
Years ago, the list must have been a lot shorter. As time goes by, more research will find more things to be measured. And I’m sure they will find some “abnormal” values in my result. The longer the list becomes, the more possibility that I’m categorized as “unhealthy”?
What is the definition of “being healthy”, then? Do I have to rely upon those numbers to prove to me that I’m healthy?
So I began consciously asking myself if I’m healthy. How?
Every morning when I wake up, I silently ask myself, “am I healthy today?” If I’m full of energy and ready to get out of bed to start a new day, I tell myself “Yes, I’m healthy.”
I may be tricking myself. But, you know, I’m a control freak. I want to be in the driver’s seat about my health, too. What’s wrong with trusting my own sense to check if I’m healthy?
Once a year, I rely on so many numbers of different components in my blood to tell me if I’m healthy. But every day, why don’t I rely on my own sense to declare my health?
This morning I stretched my arms, and I heard my inner voice telling me, “Yes I’m healthy today.” I trust this inner voice.
The Sunset on July 16: Photo by the Author Akemi Sagawa
The large window in our living room is facing west.
Weather permitted, from this window, I can see the roofs of the neighboring houses, evergreen trees that have grown so tall in the last 25 years, the quiet surface of Puget Sound, the shore of Bainbridge Island, and the snow-capped Olympic Mountains.
Enjoying the sunset from this window is one of my secret joys. I love traveling and am always mesmerized by the beautiful sceneries of every exotic place I visit, but the sunset from our living room remains top of the list.
In Seattle, whose latitude is 47.60 N, the sun doesn’t set until 9 pm on the summer solstice, and it sets at 4 pm on the winter solstice. The contrast between the long days in the summer and the short days in the winter is so much greater than that of Osaka, my hometown (the latitude is 34.68 N).
Not only the length of the daytime but the contrast of where the sun sets is also drastic.
I wish I had better photos, but I hope these three photos taken from the same window in my living room help you get the idea.
When the days are long, the sun sets further north in the mountains, on the right side of the photo. (See the photo above taken on July 16.)
The sunset on September 19: photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
Near the equinox, the sun sets in the middle, due west.
As the days are getting shorter, the sun sets further south in the mountains, on the left side of the photo.
The sunset on October 27: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa
The ever-changing position of the sunset with the change of the season reminds me of the impermanence of life. For billions of years, this cycle of sunset has been continuing.
Compared to this almost eternal cycle, my life on earth is so minuscule. How lucky I am to be able to experience this awe, considering how minuscule my existence is.
