Three tea stories (3) — The merchant's pride

The stories I am telling here have few historical background. They are merely legends decorated by my imagination.  Just like anything that belongs to a fantasy of the past, they are as true as one would like them to be. But it is sometimes so comforting that a story could be true that it does not matter if it really is or not.

It is said that, in the Japanese world of warlords, merchants were traveling all the way to China and India to provide their masters with the greatest weapons and crafts. But as payment, they only received and handful of gold and despise. So, one day, a merchant well versed in Zen and tea desired to finally get respect. In order to do that, he decided to build quite a peculiar tea room.

When a lord arrived there, he would be met with a garden deprived of any splendor. At the back of it, a weak construction was waiting for him. At the entrance, he had to leave his sword and to enter through a small square door that none could pass without bowing. Hence, he felt bare of his titles and glory. Even the sole flower in the alcove was taking an important air and the lord, disarmed, was tightening his legs.

And then the merchant entered and served tea like a monk. With discretion, the two men exchanged briefly about the nature of their trade and then the lord would go out and take back his titles in the mundane world. As he bowed down again to exit through the small door, he would take a look at his sword and find it quite useless. The nature surrounding him was so deprived of any fashionable item that it looked like it did not bother to notice him. Nothing had fed the warrior’s soul except for the tea and the promise of merchandise. And yet, an agreeable feeling was passing through him, a feeling of simplicity. ‘Indeed, he thought for himself, I will have to get the favors of this merchant that goes by the name of Sen no Rikyu.’

The Japanese tea ceremony, I heard, comes from there.