Last month the Los Angeles Chapter of the Ikenobo School of Ikebana, the school that I study, celebrated its 65th anniversary. Events such as this always include an exhibition of arrangements made by students and teachers, and there is a lot of preparation involved in planning and executing the display of arrangements. There’s a lot of stress as well, not the least, designing and then sourcing the right material for the arrangements. We are all scouring the wholesale flower markets in search of the most beautiful and unique material to highlight in our designs. But for this exhibition, I had decided early on that I would make an arrangement of the simplest of the five design styles using aging, yellowing leaves signifying the transition to autumn. This style, called Shoka Shimputai, uses only 3 different materials max. At first, I felt a bit guilty for taking the easy way out. I mean- only 3 different materials to gather, and no wiring or taping them as is done with the more elaborate styles. Instead of stressing out at the flower market, I just had to pay attention to a lemon grass plant on my patio, patiently waiting for the oldest leaves to wilt and turn color (which turns out to not be that easy to time for a scheduled exhibition I found out). I had a lot of other tasks required to support the event, including helping a student with her arrangement, so my guilt was very short-lived. 

But in all honesty, after many years of studying flower arranging, I have recently experienced a renewed appreciation for this most basic and natural of ikebana styles. I attribute this to both teaching Ikenobo where all students begin their study with this basic style, as well as the influence I see coming from my Buddhist studies.

My flower path has many intersections with my Buddhist path, and I’ve been much more conscious lately of how much they influence each other and continue to teach me many lessons. The art of ikebana is rooted in Buddhism. Like sentient beings, plants are part of the cycle of life and death. Withered and yellowing leaves and flowers suggest not just the end of life, but the future when it returns in the next season. The first thing beginning students are taught is the concept of shussho, the intrinsic, specific characteristic of a plant. Understanding the shussho of a flower or leaf is essential to present its true and natural beauty in an arrangement.  

There are many references to flowers and plants in Buddhist teachings and poetry. The lotus flower is symbolic of enlightenment and suffering as the flower blossoms above the muddy water. Basho, one of my favorite poets, wrote about the nazuna flower (shepherd’s purse) in this haiku

look carefully yoku mireba

I see the nazuna blooming nazuna hana saku

by the hedge! nakine kana

The nazuna is a small, white, ordinary flower that grows anywhere like a weed. Yet, Basho expresses amazement at the humble flower blossoming openly, and proudly, regardless of who sees or admires it.  But the significant message is that Basho is able to see this simple flower by looking with an open heart, to find beauty and perfection in the ordinary.   

It’s so easy, so human, to search for perfection in life. And there is nothing wrong at all with selecting the most gorgeous, perfect flower for an Ikebana exhibition arrangement. But society challenges us with so many comparisons and suggestions as to what is “perfect” or “good”. The influence of social media only makes these impressions more complex and transient.  What brand of car, clothes, appliance, etc. do you have? Where did you go on vacation, what college did you go to, on and on?  It’s easy to let these external factors influence and cause frustration.

In The Center Within, Rev. Gyomay M. Kubose wrote a wonderful essay titled “Perfection” which resonated with me based on my recent exhibition arrangement awakening. He described going to an ikebana flower exhibit and admiring an arrangement consisting of a single chrysanthemum accompanied by a worm-eaten leaf that held a prominent position next to the flower. I love how he describes the leaf as having no hesitancy, no inferiority complex despite it being “imperfect”. It was treated no differently than if it was “perfect”.  

He wrote that we tend to become attached to what we think are the good or perfect things in life. In this dualistic world, faced with right and wrong, perfect and imperfect, it’s difficult but important to look within ourselves and not let society and culture influence the perspective we have of ourselves. Kubose said that Buddhism teaches us that we create our own world and it is of our own making. Through self-inspection, we should accept that we, and all things in existence, have a place and are unique and perfect. Search within yourself to understand and question your values. Find what is perfect about yourself, and then how you can see perfection all around you if you look with open eyes – a lonely and simple flower by a hedge, or a yellow and withered leaf.