by dawna Foreman

The temple bell stops.
But the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.
~Matsuo Basho

What is the sound that comes out of a flower?

A world of grief and pain:
Flowers bloom;
Even then … Issa

At the San Francisco Zen Center, we make an offering of flowers, greens, branches of blossoms, whatever is seasonally and locally available to us. A small group of us known as flower chidens, gather on Wednesday morning to make arrangements and place them in the main altars. Then in the afternoon residents make smaller arrangements for guest rooms, offices, the bookstore and for their own abode.

The floral materials, the vase I select for the location and the proportions that will be right for each place, are just a few of the elements that together bring into being something that never existed before.

Sometimes, releasing all the materials from the whole, I begin again and maybe something I learned in the first creation assists me in seeing relationships between shapes and space that make a more vibrant and interesting display. I enjoy every aspect of this kind of art and I take a photo of each piece so I can track progress that comes with the experiences over time.

February, 2012, I began taking classes with a Japanese Ikebana master, Keiko. I have a long road of learning ahead of me! The Japanese aesthetic has been an attraction and a mystery with no words to describe the ease and flow that I see in the art of placement. Through Zen practice and my study of Ikebana, words are beginning to form, but it’s too soon to write them down.

I do know that Zen practice and being a beginner student in  Ikebana are intimately connected. My relationship with the natural world began when I was a toddler and has been one continuous thread in my life. As this sacred relationship becomes more intimate in this last chapter of my life, I am at play and learning the art of living as if for the first time.