Ask The Right Question for Happiness

“What can I contribute,” not “What’s in it for me”

After living for more than 60 years, I’m finally beginning to prefer asking myself “what can I do to contribute?” rather than “what’s in it for me?”


I was requested to conduct an ikebana demonstration for a group of 25 or so people. 

The duration of the demonstration is an hour.  It takes at least an hour and a half each way to drive.  In order to make 3-4 ikebana arrangements for the demonstration, I need at least several hours of preparation a day before.  I need to go get some materials also. 

What I get in return is an honorarium that may or may not cover the gas and the material cost, and the words of gratitude from the audience.

If I seek an answer to the question “what’s in it for me?” or “what would I get?”,  it’s hard to convince myself to say yes to this request.

But if I ask instead, “What can I contribute?”,  the answer is quite different. 

People who gathered are all interested in learning ikebana. Some are total beginners.  By seeing my demonstration, such beginners might be inspired and decide to learn ikebana regularly. Some practice different schools of Ikebana.  Such people might find it eye-opening to learn different techniques.  Those who have been studying Sogetsu ikebana, the same school as me, might refresh their memory by watching basic techniques taught by a different person.

Even in a minute way, I may contribute to making a change in the lives of someone out of those who watch my demonstration. 


The possibility of the answer to “what can I contribute?”, is enormous. Way more satisfactory than the answer I get by asking “what’s in it for me”.

The trick of making myself satisfied or even happy lies not in the answer, but in the question.  For too long I guess I had been asking myself a wrong question.  Hopefully it’s not too late.  Why don’t I keep asking myself, “what can I contribute?” 

Sharing The Joy of Learning Ikebana

There is no end to it

I began teaching Ikebana at Fran’s Chocolates 8 years ago.  My first class was filled with my dear friends.  They were interested in Ikebana, wanted to test the water, but they took my class mainly to show their support for me.  I’m so grateful for their generosity. 

When I started teaching, I had no idea how this endeavor would turn out.  I had no set of goals like “I will have xx students and generate $xx in revenue in three years.” The max size of the class was 12 students, due to the size of the large table at Fran’s.  I would hold one class on a Thursday afternoon and two classes on a Saturday a month.   At first, my classes were rarely filled.  More than once I had a class that only one person signed up.  I didn’t cancel any classes because of the low turnout.  I kept on teaching. 

I had my website iloveikebana.com, and posted photos of the arrangements that the students made.  Fran’s Chocolates created signage of my classes and placed it at all four retail stores.  I did no other advertising.


Gradually my classes began to be filled occasionally. Some people purchased a textbook, came back to the class regularly.

Then the pandemic hit.  The store was closed. Out of desperation or boredom, I created several Ikebana tutorial videos at home and posted them on YouTube.  Encouraged by my continuing students, I started to teach online.  Whenever a new student joined, I asked him/her which neighborhood s/he lived.  When one of my online students replied, “I’m taking your class from California,”  I realized there was a silver lining to the pandemic. 


In eight years, 586 people took my Ikebana at least once.  Most of them never came back, which is understandable.  They simply wanted to test the water or cross out Ikebana from their bucket list. 

Eight years later, 7 people have finished all five Sogetsu textbooks.    Twenty lessons on Book 1, 2, 3, and 4, and  plus 30 lessons on Book 5.   Finishing all five textbooks means that they took at least 110 of my Ikebana lessons. That’s a huge commitment and accomplishment! 

Then what’s next? 

Well, just as I did, my students go back to study Book 1 Lesson 1.  By the time we are used to making freestyle arrangements in Book 3, 4, and 5,  we pretty much forget the basics that we learned in Book 1 and 2.  As if we were a beginner, we try basic lessons again.  The second time around, we may notice things we never did the first time. Like many other traditional Japanese forms of art that are called “the ways of …,” there is no end to “the way of Ikebana.”  Not the goal, but the process of pursuing this “way of Ikebana” gives you the profound joy.


In late May, my students participated in our spring Ikebana exhibition.  Here are their individual and group arrangements.  I hope you enjoy them.  Kudos to all of the talented Ikebana arrangers!

I Bought Flowers for 24 People with A Little Hope to Change Their Lives

Just like it changed mine 30 years ago

This morning I went to the wholesaler to buy flowers for 24 people. Twenty-four people who will try Ikebana, the Japanese flower arrangement, for the first time tomorrow!

Each person will use only two kinds of materials: one kind of green branches and one kind of flowers.  With the minimum sort of materials, can you make something beautiful?  That’s the challenge.


The people who will take my workshop tomorrow all work for a large high-tech company.  I myself was working for a big IT company when I took my first Ikebana lesson, working hard every day, stressed every day.

On the day when I first walked into the Ikebana class, my teacher, who must have been younger than I am now, welcomed me with a warm smile.  She taught me how to hold scissors, how to bend a branch, and on which angle to place it onto the Kenzan, a pin frog. 

For my teacher, I was merely one of her many students.  She must have given the same instruction many times previously. 

But for me, it was an eye-opener.  My life has never been the same ever since I learned the joy of creating something beautiful with natural materials. 


Almost thirty years later, I no longer work in the IT industry, but I still continue learning Ikebana, now I’m on the teaching side. 

When picking flowers, I just wondered… Among the twenty-four people who will come to my workshop tomorrow, would there be one who might encounter Ikebana the same way as I did?  Who knows!

For that possibility, I continue to teach Ikebana.  Just like my teacher has changed my life, I might change some youngster’s life. Or not. All I do is to do my best to share the joy of creating something beautiful.   

Enjoy Present Moment

Before all the lives fade

Today I made an ikebana flower arrangement using whatever is left in my tiny backyard.

Sedum… The cluster of pink flowers is at its peak, enjoying the full attention.  In a month or so the cheerful pink will all turn to dull brown.

Lacy hydrangea… The once blue petals are now curled down, showing their backside.  The color once faded away to dull off-white and now has resurrected to dark pink.  Thick leave are still full vivid green.  In a month or so, both flowers and leaves will be shed.

A long lilac branch… Named as “Miss Kim,” this dwarf lilac blooms slightly pinkish flowers in the spring.  Today, all it has are leaves turning the color of almost deep purple.  In a month or so, the leaves will all fall to the ground.


Some are enjoying their youth, some are dwindling, and Some are barely alive.  Which one resembles me?  Definitely not the first.  I must be between the second and the third. 

This arrangement has made me melancholy.  It makes me realize that my time left is limited.  Cherish this moment.

Friendship through Flowers

The Northwest Flower and Garden Festival ended on February 18.  My forsythia, at first had only a couple of flowers blooming, ended up with more blossoms by the time I took it down.  This year the timing was just right!


On Sunday at 6 pm.  The show was over, and it was time to take down the arrangement.  All the Ikebana International members who made arrangements showed up at the booth to take down their own work. 

When I was disassembling my branches, one of the new members, a young man, came up to me. It was his first time to display his arrangement.  I complimented his work.  He thanked me for my words.  Then he said, “What is your yellow flower called?” 

“Forthythia.” I replied. 

 “In Vietnam, where I’m originally from, it’s called ‘xxx’ ( I couldn’t quite catch the name), literally meaning  ‘yellow flower’.  Such a popular flower in Vietnam, but I never knew it also grows around here.”

“You want one?  Take these branches with you.  Forthysia is so easy to propagate.”

“Really? Thank you so much!  I will definitely try that at home!”


This simple conversation made my day.  Now I know which country he is from.  Even a young guy like him from a country I have never visited fully enjoys Ikebana.  And my forsythia, rather than being thrown away, will start a new life under his care.

Why do I continue practicing Ikebana?  Because I would like to encounter more of these nice surprises. 

Excitement of Transformation

How this hard bud of forsythia will turn out next week

It’s cold here in Seattle.  My forsythia in the backyard doesn’t have a slight hint of blooming anytime soon.  The Northwest Flower and Garden Festival is coming up in a week, and I’m supposed to make an Ikebana arrangement for the Ikebana International Seattle Chapter booth.  Will I be able to use this branch for my arrangement?


Why not try it!  I will pick a few branches with interesting lines and shapes, cut them, put them in a large bucket filled with water, and bring them inside.  With warmer temperatures in the house, the hard buds may begin to open in a few days.

You cut out branches and flowers from nature, and you transform them into something different from their original conditions, shapes, and forms.  You add sprinkles of your imagination and creativity.  Sometimes it turns out to be beautiful, but sometimes it doesn’t. 

You move your point of view.  You improvise.  You do your best.  Yet you will never know what the outcome will look like. 

What is fun about Ikebana is the excitement of transformation. 


I will report to you how my arrangement will turn out.  Chances are that these forsythia will not blossom in time for the show.  In such a case, I will rush to the local florist to get alternative materials. That’s OK. It’s part of the game.


Underneath the bare forsythia, these tiny white flowers are already in full bloom.  So gentle… I don’t think I can create any more beautiful arrangement than this.  I simply bow down to nature!    


This is my arrangement from last year.

My Way of Saluting Japan’s National Flag

Snowy White with Baby Breath and Orchid

Japan – America Society of the State of Washington celebrated its centennial anniversary on November 28.  For that occasion, I was asked to make a large ikebana arrangement to welcome guests at the entrance. 


The first thing I decided was the colors of the flowers I would use – no other than bright red and snowy white!  The only two colors to represent Japan’s national flag.  At the wholesale flower shop, a bunch of amaryllis, just about to bloom.  That’s it for the red!  For the white, I chose orchid and baby breath. 

The next step was to select the vase.  The round container with a smaller mouth.  With this shape of the vase, you can place two long branches to cross each other inside it, enabling a large structure. 

The photo above shows when I placed two long branches in the round vase.  Both branches are dry, and I spray-painted one of them for a change.  These dry branches come in handy when creating a large structure, so I keep them in the garage.  My husband thinks I hoard so much junk in the garage.  Well, honey, somebody’s junk is a treasure for somebody else.

The arrangement was well received at the celebration party.  I really liked it too, so when I brought it home I rearranged it, took a photo, and also made this year’s greeting card. 

I Wish you a happy 2024!

Say Good-bye with Flowers

Thank you and Good luck, Consul General

For a change, I didn’t have a problem choosing flowers.  Chrysanthemum was the one I picked at the wholesaler.


The Japanese Consul General in Seattle is going back to Japan at the end of this month, and a farewell party was scheduled with a short notice.  As the current president of Ikebana International Seattle Chapter, I was asked to create a couple of Ikebana arrangements.  My pleasure!

Although no formal law exists, chrysanthemum is widely accepted as Japan’s national flower.  On the front of the passport as well at the entrance of the Consul General’s official residence, the emblem of the chrysanthemum flower occupies the prominent space.

I chose white and yellow chrysanthemums, to be the main characters for my arrangements.  For the arrangement placed next to the podium in the garden, as shown in the photo on the top, I added lily buds to add an accent color.  The oak branches shaped the basic structure of the arrangement, horizontally spread.

Next to the gold screen inside the room, I used the long calla lily to accompany the yellow chrysanthemum, to match the shape of the vase.


Thank you, Consule General, for all the work in Seattle.  Please have a safe trip, and wish you the best of luck in the new assignment!

Pros and Cons of Group Thinking

What I Learned from my Ikebana collaboration experiment

I’ve done it only twice, but what I found from the collaborative Ikebana experiment is interesting enough to share with you.


Last October I was invited to participate in an event to celebrate Color of Biodiversity at Frye Art MuseumThe detail of the event is posted in my previous post.

Since my program was quite popular, Frye Art Museum asked me to come back at their Community Day event earlier this month.  I was more than delighted!

This time the event had no particular theme as to which color to stick with, so I chose the color on my own: Blue!  That’s because I wanted to wear my favorite summer kimono and obi.  All the flowers, although in a variety of kinds and shapes, should be either blue or white in color to match my kimono!

Just like I did last October, I made a smaller arrangement on my own, just to show the visitors as an example. 

For the main arrangement for each visitor to collaborate upon, I only created a platform with branches and a couple of flowers.  My intention was to maintain the basic structure of the arrangement (horizontal), and the focal point (a large hydrangea).

The event started at 11 am.  The door opened, and visitors came in.  Just like I did last October, I asked each visitor to pick one flower and add it to the platform.  Which flower to pick, where to place it in which direction… I left it all to each visitor.  I merely helped them whenever they had difficulty in placing it. 

Nobody said no to my offer.  Everybody picked one flower (sometimes two!), contemplated for a moment (sometimes a long time!), and placed it on the spot they thought the most appropriate. 

By the time the event was over at 2 pm, the bare platform was filled with so many flowers.  About 100 people collaborated to complete the arrangement.  Thank you and congratulations, everyone!


Can you tell the similarity between the collaborative arrangements last October and this month? 

When I prepared the platform, both in October and this month, I intentionally placed the two branches so that the whole structure would be asymmetric.  The overall structure is horizontal, but one side is shorter than the other side.  The horizontal line is a little tilted, from down left to upper right.

The basic structure I intended, however, gradually disappeared.  The wide space initially created with two branches, was evenly divided by long lines of flowers.  White flowers and blue flowers were distributed evenly.  The overall shape of the arrangement looked more and more symmetric. 

By a majority of the people, symmetry and even distribution in the space seem to look most comfortable.  No wonder the two arrangements ended up looking alike.


When I create a flower arrangement, on the other hand, symmetry and evenness are the last thing I want to see, because they look boring.  Break the symmetry, break the evenness.  Can I still create something beautiful? That’s the challenging, and fun part of Ikebana.

The Ikebana arrangement I created by myself lacks that smooth, evenness.  The rough angle, and the asymmetry, might intrigue some but tick off others.  But I dare push to the limit.  That’s my creativity. 

The collaborative Ikebana, gradually smooths out the edge, and eventually becomes a work that the majority of people admire with ease. 


There is nothing wrong with the collaborative work.   But if you want some breakthrough, you might want to work alone first… 

Inspired by the Bamboo Container

My Ikebana arrangement with the theme of weaving

The jasmine vine in my backyard shows healthy growth in the summer.  Too healthy that it almost overwhelms the spiderwort flowers blossoming nearby. One of my summer garden chores, therefore, is to trim the excessively long jasmine vines once in a while.

The vines don’t go to the compost bin right away.  They are usually parked in one of my bamboo basket containers for a week or two.


This bamboo container has a small round opening on the top and a rectangular bottom. The handle is rather long, with two rods twisted into one.  Meticulously hand-woven, this bamboo basket container is a regular that accompanies my jasmine vines every summer.

Inspired by the impeccably woven surface of the container, I try to weave the jasmine vines on and around the basket.  Sometimes I successfully create beautiful curved lines that look like they are almost floating.  Sometimes the lines end up sloppily dangling from the basket. 

I try to replicate the most successful curved lines I can remember, but none of the vines are exactly the same.  That’s the wonder of nature, and I have no choice but to accept the different lines each time.


So here is the Ikebana arrangement I did this summer.  I accompanied lisianthus and lysimachia flowers, both of which have graceful curved lines.  Hopefully the jasmine vines are happy with the company.