The Power to Live

Sen Genshitsu, the 15th-generation former grandmaster of the Urasenke School of Tea Ceremony, and cherished friend of our monthly magazine Chichi, passed away on August 14th at the venerable age of 102 years. After narrowly escaping death during the horrors of World War II, Sen Genshitsu devoted his life to sharing the way of tea ceremony, becoming a symbol of Japanese culture and hope in the postwar era. His legacy shines through his immeasurable achievements in transmitting the Japanese spirit to the world and unwavering life commitment to the pursuit of genuine peace. Master Genshitsu appeared at our company's New Year special lecture held on January 18th of this year. He delivered a passionate speech while standing for a full hour, creating a whirlwind of emotion in the venue with his youthful vigor that belied his age of over one hundred. Unexpectedly, this became his final magnificent appearance on stage. Here we present his final message left for readers of Chichi magazine and for the Japanese people.

Good day, everyone!
　I am Sen Genshitsu, as just introduced. Thanks to the support of everyone here today and beyond, I will turn 102 this April. (Applause)
　Chichi magazine’s president, Mr. Fujio, is an exceptional individual. His sincere and compelling qualities are what brought me here to attend this important New Year gathering of Chichi Publishing. Actually, I am currently in the middle of our New Year tea ceremony training sessions at the Tokyo dojo, but I couldn't refuse Mr. Fujio’s invitation and briefly excused myself from my duties to join you all here today (laughs). I am truly grateful and honored by this opportunity to meet you all.
　From the first day of last year, the Japanese archipelago faced numerous great trials of hardship. The great Noto earthquake struck on New Year’s Day, followed by torrential rains and floods that swept through our communities. Countless people lost their lives and homes, and now many are at a loss about how to continue living.
　For these people, we must act and do something to support them.

However, this desire to support people and society in the face of adversity doesn’t arise from external imposition, because someone told us to do it. It requires deep-hearted compassion rooted in human instinct. What I want to say is: we must nurture and enhance the intrinsic human potential that forms our foundation and driving force.
　Enhancing our human potential relies on our ability to recognize the value of human existence. And our intellect. Knowledge and wisdom all fall under the umbrella of intellect, and it is important to elevate ourselves by polishing this intellect through various experiences.How do you all think about and perceive the value of your own existence? I believe this is the most significant point of consideration.

　I have lived for a hundred years until today, and throughout this time, the words from the Analects (Sayings of Confucius)—“Reflect on oneself three times each day”—have guided me to look down at my own feet and reflect on my actions and thoughts. I reflect in the morning, reflect at noon, and reflect at night. Humans must reflect.
　When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is look in the mirror and say, “Good morning.” My mother taught me this habit when I was a child and I have been doing it ever since.
　My mother told me:
“You know, even if you're still sleepy from just waking up, saying ‘good morning’ with a grumpy face won't get through to others. From now on, every morning, say ‘Good morning’ to your face reflected in the mirror. And when you brush your teeth before going to bed at night, say to yourself in the mirror, ‘You worked hard today.’”
This is how my mother taught me the three daily reflections from the Analects.
　Thanks to these wise lessons, I can greet everyone and say good morning with sincerity, no matter where I am. I consider this the greatest gift my mother gave me in life. I further believe that I have lived this long because of this practice, which I have been doing since first grade.
　In the world of tea ceremony, there is a teaching about the ritual of rotating the chawan (tea bowl). Sometimes people ask, “Why do you bother rotating it? Once the tea is prepared, couldn't you just drink it as it is?” (laughs).
(When serving tea, the master will turn the chawan, facing the adorned “front” side to face the guest. In return, upon receiving the chawan, the guest will turn the “front” face away themselves, in a gesture of humility before sipping.)
　When one asserts themself forward, they collide with their surroundings in various ways. That's why when we greet each other, we don’t face each other directly, head-on, but take a slight step back in a show of humility and respect. Even when driving a car, trying to force your way forward will lead to a collision. But if you pull back a little, there's no collision. This is extremely important.
　The reason humans clash with each other and nations engage in abominable wars is because they don't understand this principle. If Russia steps back a little, and Ukraine steps back a little, such abominable wars will end immediately.

　I was born as the son of a tea ceremony house, but the Sen family was originally both a samurai family and a tea family. However, with the Meiji Restoration, all stipends were abolished. My great-great-grandfather, the 11th grandmaster of the Urasenke school, was the first to examine and study the traditional Iemoto school of tea ceremony, which continues to this day.
　In sword fighting and judo, learners are called disciples and train under a designated master. In tea ceremony, members of broader society establish organizations or “schools” and undergo training within these groups. We call this “shachu” (within society), reflecting the symbiotic relationship with greater society.

　Prior to the Meiji Restoration, the samurai class dominated Japanese government and social life—samurai society—and participation in tea ceremony was prevalent among the samurai. Each daimyo family assembled distinguished tea utensils, and appointed a tea ceremony magistrate to serve them.
　This practice began in Oda Nobunaga's era, when tea utensils were used for economic exchange with China, Korea, and the Philippines. Items from China were called kara-mono (Tang dynasty items), those from Korea were called korai-mono, and those from the Philippines and other islands were called shima-mono, reflecting regional or temporal characteristics of these items.
　Recognizing this opportunity, Oda Nobunaga had my ancestor Sen no Rikyu appraise good utensils, which he then offered as rewards to retainers who distinguished themselves. Wise retainers, knowing that even if granted a domain and castle, it might be taken away in the next battle, requested to receive Lord Nobunaga's tea utensils instead. Items received from Lord Nobunaga would increase in value over time. This is similar to stocks of today.
　However, after the Meiji Restoration, daimyo families ran out of money and could no longer pay stipends to their retainers. So they sold off their collections to large family-owned business conglomerates—zaibatsu—like Mitsui, Sumitomo, and Fujita.
　In Japan's economic distribution system of that time, enterprise and store owners were called “danna,” implying head of the household, rather than “president.” The danna would delegate business operation to reliable “banto” (head clerks), who oversaw management on their behalf. This allowed the danna to pursue their own interests as they wished, subsequently expanding potential for business. Such practices spread throughout the Japanese archipelago as the key distribution mechanism, exemplifying Japanese capitalism.
　It was America that dismantled this system after the war. During the occupation, they dissolved the zaibatsu and transformed Japanese capitalism into American capitalism, thereby destroying Japan's traditional, family-oriented capitalism. The family system was also dismantled during this time, greatly changing the nature of society.

　The famous English historian Arnold Joseph Toynbee once said something wonderful: Each country has its own mythology and history. And traditions are what support them. Nations that lose these traditions will perish. This is a very important point.
　This year marks eighty years since the end of the World War. What is the state of Japan now? As Mr. Fujio always points out, and as I often discussed with my late close friend, Kazuo Inamori (Kyocera founder), Americanization may be fine, but haven't Japanese people today misunderstood the meaning of the word “freedom”? They have become unencumbered and apathetic to others, thinking only of themselves. Some even engage in activities bordering on illegal. I am truly frustrated by this.

　I mentioned greetings earlier, but how about it, everyone? Do you properly greet each other within your own family?
　Recently, I have felt that many Japanese cannot even bow properly or greet each other respectfully anymore. I teach several courses at university, and whenever I stand at the podium, I instruct the class to stand up (a customary way of acknowledging teachers and showing respect before a lecture commences). The students look surprised and stand up in a wobbly manner (laughs). In the old days, whenever a teacher or senior arrives at the lecture podium, everyone would rise in unison and bow, as a greeting of respect. Today's Japanese are truly living in an un-Japanese way. They're slovenly and lacking in vitality.
　Japanese people bow while standing, and they bow while sitting. This simple gesture of “rei”—courtesy bowing to show respect—is the foundation for elevating humanity, and therefore must be learned and practiced correctly.
　Nowadays traditional living of sitting on tatami mats has decreased and most Japanese use chairs and tables, like in the West. As a result, almost no one can bow while sitting properly anymore. There's even a saying “half a tatami mat when awake, one tatami mat when sleeping,” which demonstrates the spirit of modest and shared family living—a foundation which grounded them morally and in everyday living.
　Most Japanese homes had a small entrance area, called koma, where guests would remove their shoes or coats and place down any items that they were carrying before being shown to the main living room. In larger homes they would be shown to a guest room which featured a tokonoma (alcove) where people customarily hung a favorite calligraphy or flower arrangement. This tokonoma alone served as an anchor point around which people and families would center their livelihoods. The key point is that whether you are in the home or office, you can work effectively by remaining grounded with a firm understanding of your own place in the world.

　As you know, Japan rapidly westernized after the Meiji Restoration. Unlike the postwar era I mentioned earlier, this period was not marked by abolition of Japan's traditional history and culture. The Emperor Meiji wisely issued the “Charter Oath” as the nation's basic policy, seeking to protect Japan's national character and traditions. Such decisions made in the past are truly admirable.
　Japan’s origin story begins with the deities, Izanagi-no-Mikoto and Izanami-no-Mikoto who, following divine command, thrust a great spear given to them by the gods down into the ocean and stirred it to form the islands. As Toynbee observed, a civilization or nation of people must read and know their mythologies and histories. For Japanese people, this means reading the Kojiki (Records of Ancient Matters) or Nihon Shoki (Chronicles of Japan). Although modern people may dismiss these stories as mere myth, they form the very foundations of a nation’s history and cultural identity. The Kojiki and Nihon Shoki are accessible online, so I urge all Japanese readers, and anyone interested in Japanese history, to please search for them and read them, at least once.

　I graduated from a prewar middle school, under the old Japanese education system. During the five years I attended, the teachers and students remained consistently the same. Among the seniors were fifth-year students around the age of twenty who had failed grades. These were people about to go to war. But such people would call out to us, “Hey, come here,” and teach us various things. “I'll give you this notebook, so study with it.”
　Eventually, the war intensified, and life became very severe in all aspects of society. There was no television like today, and the radio was the only source of information. Meals became very basic, consisting mostly of only pickled plums and rice balls. Yet our vitality was strong.
　After time, food became scarce and a rationing system was introduced. What would happen if food rationing were introduced in Japan, today? There would be riots. People of that time endured with the spirit of “until we win.”
　Eating. Food is vital for us to live, and while it is good to have an abundant food culture and options, this richness must be connected to richness of the heart and true-life force. But now we are so extravagantly indulgent, it's truly shocking. We are told that severe food shortages will come in thirty to forty years, yet whenever I watch television, I am bombarded with extravagant food shows, promoting items that are completely unnecessary. It’s excessive!
　I feel a growing sense of crisis. Unless Japanese people face stricter trials in various ways, we won’t regain our original mindset and cultural spirit. At the very least, I hope that the avid readers of the monthly magazine Chichi will feel inspired and motivated to action through wise words and insights by the various contributors here.

　I also read many books. I don't read in a way that goes in one ear and out the other. During the war, we had nothing else to do except study, study, study. We studied earnestly, finished middle school, and aimed for high school through the old education system. Those who wanted to enter the workforce immediately went to commerce school or higher commerce schools provided under the old system. Education was considered an earned privilege and everyone studied seriously with zeal and determination.
　I served as a member of the Central Council for Education for many years from 1960. I strived to revive the positive aspects of our pre-war education by restoring the old 6-5-3-3 system. Germany, who was also defeated in war like Japan, kept its pre-war education system and insisted on providing education in the German way without outside interference from America or Russia. But Japan conceded and changed to the 6-3-3-4 system as America dictated. I’m not saying this system is faulted, but it does lack the consistency of our pre-war system. Teachers also change with each grade advancement.

　Teachers in the old days truly had profound knowledge and studied tremendously. I learned the Man'yoshu (Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves)—the oldest existing anthology of Japanese waka poetry—when I was in the fourth year of the old-system middle school. The first thing I was taught was the poem of Emperor Jomei, the 34th emperor of Japan (AD 629–641):
“Countless are the mountains of Yamato / But perfect is the heavenly mountain of Kagu / When I climb it and survey my realm / Over the wide plain smoke-wreaths rise from hearths / Seagulls soar over the vast ocean / A beautiful land it is; the land of dragonflies, the land of Yamato”
　This poem used vivid imagery of the land of Yamato, the ancient imperial capital of the now Nara prefecture.
　When I heard this, I found it strange and raised my hand to ask the teacher a question. “You can't see the sea from Nara, and even if you climb Mount Kagu, I don't think you can see the smoke from people cooking rice. Why was such a poem composed?” The teacher said, “That’s a good observation and point,” and explained it like this:
　“This is Emperor Jomei singing of an ideal. That a peaceful and tranquil ideal country would be built together with the people. This beautiful and compassionate land of Japan was created in this way. You must understand that Japan's precious national character has been protected in this way until today, and you must cherish it.” The explanation made perfect sense, and we were all deeply moved.
　In this era of schooling, we were taught absolutely everything and what I learned then remains within me now. We read many books and sometimes we were even made to read English original books and give our impressions. So, we had to study diligently.
　Thanks to that, we were taught about building human character and the importance of human foundations. It was tough and strict, but I think it was truly a good system.

　In America, Donald Trump has become president again. Because of this, the whole world is now trembling with anxiety about what kind of future and global developments will emerge. Now, more than ever, I think we Japanese must double our efforts to regain our national and cultural pride and restore our humanity and resourcefulness.
　Of course, politicians must also get their act together. I recently had an opportunity to meet with a politician and give them a stern talking-to: “Are you doing real politics? Are you doing it with the determination to die for the country?”

　At the start of the second year of university, we received a sudden notice from the Tojo Cabinet to undergo conscription examinations as part of student mobilization. Science and engineering students were exempt, but all liberal arts students were forced to take the exam, excluding those with health problems. About 100,000 are said to have been mobilized, and those conscripted by the army were sent to the mainland of China and the southern front. I was selected by the Navy, passed the reserve student examination, and was sent to two and a half months of officer training at the Tsuchiura Air Corps.
　The training was rigorous and being hit and kicked was the norm. We were told, “Listen, the navy is 3Ss: Smart, Steady, and therefore Silent.”
　And at twenty-two, I received deployment orders and was scheduled to take off for the waters of Okinawa as a special attack unit carrying two 250-kilogram bombs. May 21, 1945—I truly think that day should have been my death day. But just before takeoff, a standby order was issued. If it wasn’t for that issue, I don’t think I would be standing here alive today.
　We lost many comrades—411 souls in all. These were truly outstanding Navy second lieutenants and lieutenants conscripted from universities, now resting in the waters off Okinawa. After the war, I watched every survivor devote their entire body and spirit to establishing new professions and helping to restore Japan. Among them were Mr. Inamori, whom I mentioned earlier; the founder of Wacoal, Koichi Tsukamoto, and the many other friends who have now passed away before me. Their plight was far from easy.
　Thinking of these people, affirms our need to reinvigorate Japan as a nation filled with deep humanity and richness of spirit. Each person must grow as genuine and warm-hearted compassionate human beings. I ask everyone to please lend your strength. Let us make Japan once again a wonderful country where we help each other and are filled with kind, compassionate hearts.
　I crawled up from the horrors of war, so I really hate people who just say “peace, peace,” preaching with nothing but their mouths. We don't need to speak of peace. We simply must live each day with gratitude for being allowed to live on this peaceful earth.
　When we choose to step back from confrontation and approach each other with humble humility, much like the gentle ritual of offering tea, our hearts reveal their true humanity. That humanity will pass on to the next person. Even with a bowl of tea, we invite the other to go first, saying, “Please, you first,” or in English, “After you.” If everyone in the world embraced this small but powerful spirit of yielding, all conflicts would dissolve. Don't you agree? (Applause)

Wa-kei-sei-jaku is a four character idiom expressing the central principles of tea ceremony: Wa (和) expresses harmony, Kei (敬) refers to respect, Sei (清) reflects a state of water or air being clear and unclouded, and Jaku (寂) resonates a state of stillness.
　I believe we are truly being wasteful while being allowed to live on this wonderful Earth. AI, rockets, and such things have a place of importance. However, the seas that were once beautiful have become polluted, and now even outer space is being ravaged with waste. It is humans who are polluting them.
　We are very grateful for the benefits of scientific advancement. But we must not rely too easily on it. Let us take better care of the Earth while being thankful for such modern conveniences.
　Through selfish development, precious forests are being destroyed one after another, and precious lives like insects and birds are being lost. We should cherish the living beings that share this Earth with us and nurture the power to live. With the spirit of “Please, you go first” as we slightly turn the tea bowl, we should reflect on our daily lives. I want Japanese people to regain this way of life once again.

　Sen no Rikyu taught Oda Nobunaga the words “wa-kei-sei-jaku.” He taught: “Wa” is peace, harmony, and gentleness. Gentleness is truly important and if we drink tea together peacefully; we will not fight.
　“Kei” means respecting each other without discrimination or distinction. All people are the same for as long as they live on this Earth. There should be no discrimination. Even if countries, languages, and customs differ, if everyone becomes one without discrimination, we can lead a wondrous life on this Earth.
　And “Sei,” denotes purity. The human heart is polluted. Buddha taught that even those who appear virtuous are polluted with impurity. Therefore, we should constantly strive to achieve a pure heart and take quiet action.
　The final “Jaku” is unwavering conviction. Not swaying and looking around hesitantly. Once seated, to remain still and unmovable like a rock.
　Sen no Rikyu taught such mental attitudes to the notable shoguns, Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Ieyasu, through a single bowl of tea.
　Let us all reconsider this traditional Japanese mindset and the spirit of tea, which plays a key role in restoring our humanity and resourcefulness. By regaining the spirit of tea, we can nurture our individual and collective power to live and cultivate our humanity to a higher level. Let us all join hands together and unite in this endeavor. I sincerely hope that you will find great value in such notions.

　Having been invited by Mr. Fujio, though my words may be insufficient, I will conclude my talk here. Thank you for your kind attention. (Applause)

(Editorial responsibility: Editorial Department)