Shibumi and wu-wei

On the Innermost House Facebook page the other day, Chris Johnson slipped into the conversation a word I’d never heard before: shibumi.  I found this article about it – and it made my heart sing.

Shibumi (or shibusa as it can alternatively be known) is an aesthetic going yet deeper than aesthetic to express a value system or inner wisdom.  The Wikipedia article says shibumi has seven qualities or aspects:

Simplicity

Implicity

Modesty

Silence

Naturalness

Everydayness

Imperfection

About the “Imperfection” aspect of shibumi, the Wikipedia article says this:

“Imperfection in shibusa, Soetsu Yanagi in The Unknown Craftsman refers to as ‘beauty with inner implications’. It is not a beauty displayed before the viewer by its creator; creation here means making a piece that will lead the viewer to draw beauty out of it for oneself. Shibui beauty, as in the beauty of Tea Ceremony, is beauty that makes an artist of the viewer.”

This means the beauty of shibumi becomes apparent only in use or interaction; that is, by "imperfection" is meant that which by itself is not complete - in use it is completed and its potential realised.  I can so relate to that.  I like to choose very plain and simple clothes in solid colours, and I prefer plates and bowls in stoneware without patterns or pictures on, just the stone colours of nature.  Similarly I like candleholders in pottery, wood or metal of very simple, unadorned design.  In this way, the beauty of the bowl comes into its own when the salad is in it, the garment does not compete with the person wearing it but they become one beauty together (even if the wearer is not conventionally beautiful, in a simple, plain, natural garment s/he will be attractive), and the candleholder steps back modestly to allow the beauty of the living flame to have centre stage.

It is the beauty that belongs with utility rather than ornamentation, and I love this.  In a conversation with the Badger recently, I found my way to expressing something about the objects in our home that is important to me: I like each thing to have meaning.  The meaning of a chair and table is relatively obvious – it is for utility, so someone can sit down and place a cup safely.  But I prefer that there is nothing purely ornamental – nothing that is simply about itself.  I do have some ornamental objects – for example, I have a painting of the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, a statue of St Francis, and a pair of etchings depicting the concept of light in John’s gospel.  But each of these things is draws the beholder beyond itself into a teaching, acting as a reminder of an aspect of faith and spirit.  I would not wish to have a painting of a girl with a cat or a vase of flowers – though I like to look at the real women curled up with the real cats in our home, and the small posies of real flowers that we bring in from the garden (again placed in unassuming containers that do not compete ornamentally with the flowers).

In some ways shibumi/shibui/shibusa reminds me of the concept of “wu-wei” from the Tao; the modesty or implicity that does not draw attention to itself, but by being what it is permits innate beauty to emerge and be seen. 

“Wu-wei” is a wonderful concept: it can be expressed as “the art of non-doing”.  As Lao Tsu puts it, “I do nothing and it all happens”.

When I try to describe wu-wei I am sometimes frustrated when others misunderstand me to mean a lazy or laissez-faire attitude.  Wu-wei is not the same as “que sera, sera”, or shrugging my shoulders and turning away hoping things will look after themselves.  Wu-wei is not inaction or non-intervention.  It is the fulcrum effect. 

Wu-wei, the art of non-doing, implies such focus and attention on Life itself that one is found in the right place at the right time doing the right thing, thus being perfectly aligned with the flow of Grace, the current of God’s purpose in continuing creation; so one maximises one’s effectiveness.  An example of this is Jesus stilling the storm.  The winds raged round the boat threatening to capsize them, and the disciples became terrified, but Jesus lay asleep.  When they woke Him, asking “Master, do you not care?” he rebuked their lack of faith (and faith is really understanding), then addressed the storm with simple words of quietness: “Peace, be still”, and it all stopped.  That’s wu-wei.  It’s like magic; it arises from centring oneself in the socket of God’s purposes so that with a small word or action change can be effected.

Wu-wei is an art of quietness, of a stilled, centred, unassuming soul.  It’s about what Yoda calls “using the Force”.

In the daily practice of Gospel simplicity there is also a heartbeat, a flame  like the pilot light on a gas boiler, from which all warmth and power are ignited.  This heartbeat is the discipline of abandonment to Divine providence, in the manner expressed by this prayer.     This abandonment to God’s love is what warms shibumi and wu-wei into loving-kindness.  It is identical with the Franciscan ideal.  I recognise this, but I am not very good at it yet, and it frustrates me that I waste time on being less than the person I could be, when it will take all the time and concentration I have to find my way into the simplicity of God’s kindness and humility.

I am walking towards a shibumi kind of home and a wu-wei path of living slowly but with determination, for these express the core of simplicity.

:0)  Time for breakfast.  God bless your day.  May His light rest peaceful upon you.

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365 366 Day 38

Ah, these earrings!  I saw them in a shop and fell in love with them, wore them almost all the time last summer.  Then I saw that they are a bit too large and showy for me.  The ones made of real silver and freshwater pearls that Hebe gave me are much better.  Time to let these go.  

  

Emptiness Happiness

'Emptiness' is a word I associate with negative connotations - specifically, sad pop songs about someone whose baby has left him feeling blue because she has left him and is now in the arms of someone nue. (At least, she is nue. No doubt in the arms of someone nu. Tsk. What are they like?!)

In general, 'empty' goes with 'sad and', or is a synonym for 'lonely'.

But I love emptiness.

On the telly quite often there are adverts for products for people with constipation. With contorted faces they rub their bellies and discuss that terrible bloated feeling that they all seem to have - it's odd actually becaue they are usually lithe, active types as thin as rakes; somebody may not be being quite straight with us... What are they eating? What exercise are they (not) taking, that they are having such frightful problems with bloating?

Anyway, they all agree that if you knock back this probiotic yoghourt or high-bran cereal, or whatever it is that will go to work on the bowel, you will be renewed and re-energised - because you will have had a Really Good Poo.

And who can argue with that? Emptiness brings wellbeing and relief.

Lao Tsu wrote about emptiness:
Thirty Spokes share the wheels hub;
It is the center hole that makes it useful.
Shape clay into a vessel;
It is the space within that makes it useful.
Cut doors and windows for a room;
It is the holes that make it useful.
Therefore, profit comes from what is there;
Usefulness from what is not there.
(Tao Te Ching, 11.)

Getting rid of Stuff was a project that took three years to accomplish. Even now of course, Stuff still accumulates. It comes in different categories:

1. Things that seem to arrive by themselves. We had a large purple towel in our bathroom. We assumed it was Ben's. Then one day Badger asked him, and he said it wasn't his. So we assumed it was Miguel's. But he didn't have any towels when he came - and when Badger asked him, he said it wasn't his either. We have no idea where it came from. A previous lodger, maybe?
2. Things that people leave behind. When Miguel went back to Spain after several months in England, he had accumulated a few items that it was impractical to take - a straw hat, some bacon and a tin of spaghetti, some plastic coathangers; the tail-end of a stay. We didn't want them either.
3. Things that people give you for presents. This is, oddly, more difficult when you like them and when you want them than when you don't. The useless and hideous can simply go to the charity shop to await someone with a different point of view. It's the lovely things that are the problem. And the things given by people who visit often. And worst of all, the things you asked for. I saw this beautiful skirt in an expensive shop that sells gorgeous linen garments in Lavenham. It cost £72. Let me repeat that - £72! I had no money. My mother said she would buy it for me. My sister egged us on. Everyone was buying things. I got carried away and accepted it. I could never find anything that went with it - it looked odd with all my clothes. It needed a frilly shirt. I look DISASTROUS in frilly shirts. It was see-through and needed a slip underneath it. I hate wearing slips - they make me feel claustrophobic. I kept one slip just to wear under this skirt that I never wore because I had nothing that went with it and I hate wearing slips. So I thought I'd cut my losses and sell it on ebay. I did. It went for £3.31. My mother lives in Saffron Walden. So does the woman that bought it. Oh, no! Oh, glory! Ah well - I wrapped it up nicely and put the slip in with it. Ha! Another thing gone! :0)
4. Things that you thought you wanted. At one time when our house was over-run with the joyful guests of one of our lodgers, I began to get a bit desperate about the lack of privacy regarding the bathroom. I bought a Porta-potti plus associated chemicals and loo paper which altogether plus carriage cost me £100. I thought it was just the thing I needed and would make all the difference and revolutionise my life and make me happy and be fantastically useful in the Flophouse. It did none of these things and nobody else wants it either and at the present time it's advertised in the local paper for £45.
5. Flotsam and jetsam. The junk mail that includes an advertisement for something that seems relevant. Instructions for appliances. Metal bookends. Scart leads. Polyfilla. Unsuccessful shampoo. Really Good cardboard boxes - and bubble wrap. An extra telephone that still works. Ringbinders. Elastic bands. That sort of thing.
   

These are the items that accumulate to cause Household bloat. The entire building needs dosing with Allbran and Danone, it needs to do a massive poo - because IT IS THE SPACE WITHIN THAT MAKES IT USEFUL.

When the stuff levels are strictly monitored; when I start the day in this calm, uncluttered bedroom with its huge, airy window, drinking Earl Grey tea from a plain white mug, sitting up in bed with no throws or funky bedspreads, just a duvet in a calm cotton cover, wearing one of my three nighties (one to wear, one in the wash, one in the drawer); and look forward down a day in which there is time to do the tasks that belong to that day, time to write, time to think, time for people, nothing much to be cleaned and tidied in this uncluttered house - oh glory, I feel good!

Toinette Lippe says 'Problems arise when things accumulate'. Amen! Do they not!