The Ikigai Podcast
The Ikigai Podcast
Exploring The Wabi-Sabi of Haiku with Misako Yoke
Have you taken a moment to reflect and see the beauty of life?
The art of haiku is a wonderful way to be present and express your feelings in the moment. It allows us to savour each fleeting experience, capturing the essence of now.
In this episode of the Ikigai Podcast, Nick welcomes back Misako Yoke to explore the wabi-sabi of haiku.
Let's talk about your title Quiet Wonder. I imagine this represents the experience of writing and also reading or interpreting haiku.
Speaker 2:Exactly, you know me so well. This is just like your book Ikigai Kan. You added kan, that subtle. Just one letter changes the entire course of the book is about. We get the feelings of oh, ikigai-kan. This is not, as you probably specifically change the title from Ikigai, something often lost in translation. Kind of misunderstanding happens Ikigai-kan. I wanted to translation. Kind of misunderstanding happens Ikigai kan. I wanted to create that kind of precision into my haiku title While I was creating each haiku, it's humble invitation to my readers and I wanted to create that something you can expect from only two words. I challenged myself only two words to give the title and quiet portion gives my readers time to take a pause, the moment of quietness that sets the environment to enjoy their wonder like a kid, just like me, like me, oh my goodness, this is beautiful to enjoy immensely find your ikigai at ikigaitribecom.
Speaker 1:This is episode 84 of the Ikigai podcast, and author and haiku poet Misako Yoke returns to talk about exploring the wabi-sabi of Ikigai. Welcome back, misako, it's wonderful to see you again.
Speaker 2:Thank you for having me back, Nick. It's nice to see you again. Thank you for having me back, Nick. It's nice to be here again.
Speaker 1:It's my pleasure. It's been a few years. It was actually episode 15. We talked about taking heart with Genki Habits, so are you Genki today?
Speaker 2:Yes, I am as usual. I think that's my nature to be Genki, and I'm so grateful that you remember as my Genki word.
Speaker 1:That was a great episode. I got a lot of positive feedback on that episode. Thank, you. I'm really happy to have you back again. I can't believe it's been probably about four years, so the time goes by very quickly.
Speaker 2:Want to make me scream? Four years.
Speaker 1:And so in that time, you have just recently published your second book, Quiet Wonder, Haiku and Poet Reflections on the Pacific Northwest's natural splendor. So congratulations.
Speaker 2:Thank you so much. It was quite a journey for myself and it experienced let me experience a big shift in my mindset. And back in Japan, if anyone had asked me, are you going to create a haiku book? And I would have laughed it off hard. Oh, my goodness, what are you talking about? It's not me. It's always this idea. I still do have this idea.
Speaker 2:Haiku poets are trained and talented, highly talented and also approved by established organizations. I'm none of them, highly talented and also approved by established organization. I'm none of them. But when I changed my primary language from Japanese to English, it was already crazy idea and it can be trained, I realized. Then I started thinking huh, okay. Then huh became why not?
Speaker 2:Then I dove into the process of creating haiku. Then I, of course, start from the, studying intensively about haiku's history and rich episodes. Then I realized that haiku was originally used to set a longer poem. It's called renga. We are going to talk about it a little bit later. But to introduce poets, collaborative poems, to set a tone and theme and give them a guidance to the longer poem to be well-written. That's more of an invitation.
Speaker 2:So then I realized my role as a poet is inviting my readers to create their own imagery and their own journey. It's like my saying here's what I see From here, that's your journey, take on there, enjoy what you see, share it with me. That idea is really fascinating to me and I love the idea somewhere someone is reading my book and use my haiku as a springboard to create their own imagery or stroll down memory lane, and that kind of something unexpected exploring is fascinating idea and I always love that. That but. But there's a big but. As anything else it. Everything is worth trying.
Speaker 2:It comes with big challenges, right? My biggest challenge was that English is not phonetic. Japanese language is phonetic, and then 575 syllables means 575 letters, 17 letters. And then in English there's no such a thing exists and we have a lot of imported English word. In Japanese, for example, we have seaside we use quite often, but we say it shi-i-sa-i-do. It's five letters word, and in English, seaside and it's two syllables. How does that happen? I stuck there for like two weeks or so. I can't get it. I can't get it.
Speaker 1:I was going to ask you the challenge of how do you write haiku in English? Do you try and keep it in that structure of syllabary of 5-7-5 and have that rhythm, or do you allow yourself a bit more freedom?
Speaker 2:I try to set following the traditional structure of 5-7-5 syllables, but luckily haiku allows you to have, we say, jiamari jitarazu. It's a little margin. Of creative poets play around Sometimes 565 or 675, that's allowed, and that little window was a lifesaver for me to create on haiku poems. Each creation was, I would like to say, more than I. The effort I made was more than I. Would like to share it to anyone.
Speaker 1:Okay we will get into all of the details of your haiku and how you overcome those challenges, but let's talk about your title Quiet Wonder. I imagine this represents the experience of writing and also reading or interpreting haiku.
Speaker 2:Exactly, you know me so well. This is just like your book Ikigai Kan. You added kan, that subtle. Just one letter changes the entire course of the book is about we get the feelings of. Oh Ikigai Kan book is about we get the feelings of oh Ikigai-kan. This is not, as you probably specifically changed the title from Ikigai Something often lost in translation, kind of misunderstanding, happens Ikigai-kan.
Speaker 2:I wanted to create that kind of precision into my haiku title While I was into my haiku title, while I was creating each haiku. It's a humble invitation to my readers and I wanted to create that something you can expect from only two words. I challenged myself only two words to give the title and quiet portion gives my readers time to take a pause, the moment of quietness that sets the environment to enjoy their wonder like a kid just like me. Oh, my goodness, this is beautiful to enjoy immensely. Before that, you have to have a quiet moment, not being rushed or not being pushed. You being there right there at the moment, be there here now. Moment is created by quiet. That's a set, the motion of wonder, and this combination came to me quite lovely way, after cut and paste and erasing and typing like crazy. It's a very lovely way and I love the idea of this quiet wonder. It represents Pacific Northwest kind of quietness and when you go into the forest it's a grandeur of the scenery of big waterfalls that contrast creates this book represents very well.
Speaker 1:I thought what a wonderful title. And I kind of instantly thought oh, that's such a fitting title for haiku, because haiku does require pause or reflection, or space, or utori, or this idea of quietness. And then, especially in the natural world, which your book does focus on, there is so much wonder and amazement and joy and you see life come alive and you need that quietness, you need to be observing with an empty mind or a free mind to really see the wonder. So I thought what a fitting title. And, yeah, I mean the title. If we're honest, it's also a way to market your book. Yeah, You're trying to say you should buy the book because of this title, almost.
Speaker 2:Right.
Speaker 1:Yeah, Really I thought, ah, that's a really impressive title.
Speaker 2:Well, thank you.
Speaker 1:So well done.
Speaker 2:Balancing the market. Bring it to the market because we put so much effort to create our entire book. It's a lot of work, no doubt I sometimes regret it. How have I started? But when you bring it to the market you want to be seen and the balancing between what you want to show. But this is all work for my readers to serve and it's marketing is included.
Speaker 1:Nowadays no one else does that, so the start from the cover and title is a lot of sweat behind the scene behind the scene yeah, the sometimes the marketing takes, you know sort of takes more energy or it's more stressful sometimes it is writing the book and yes, I think that's why I'm more of a writer than marketer, because I the temperature of my sweat is different.
Speaker 2:I feel it when I'm struggling with finding the best word for these five syllables. I sweat a lot, but it's a good like exercising good sweat. And when I start doing the marketing portion, my sweat is really cold, drenching and almost shivering. It's a fear of gripping I have to get better, but I learned this journey of riding a hike it's way out there in when I was in Japan, but I did it anyway, so everything is learnable.
Speaker 2:And then you mentioned you have to be empty-minded or empty your mind and of course it goes to ikigai kan, a sense of ikigai to allow ourselves to feel. When we identify our ikigai, to surround ourselves. I sensed that emotions a lot when I was creating it. My ikigai is explore the element of explore, whatever has an element of explore. I have these feelings of joy and enthusiasm. Energy comes out from somewhere and my body cannot catch up sometimes. Just keep on going, going. That's my ikigai, that sense of ikigai. Energy comes from happiness, comes from joy. When I look back, I can't get back to genki.
Speaker 1:The source of energy, yes, but it's also about, I think, creative expression. It is. You're expressing yourself creativity with this interesting structure of haiku. So let's touch on haiku, because I think most people know the word haiku most of our listeners, but maybe they don't really understand it fully, like me. So how would you define haiku?
Speaker 2:Haiku is traditionally. It is an enduring, time-tested form and it has gone through so many changes. It started from. You can trace back to 5-7-5, 7-7 syllables. That is very comfortable for Japanese ears, just like music. It sticks to your brain and you sing afterwards many times and you would sing afterwards many times.
Speaker 2:And 575 started from 8th century Nara period and it's just the first. It hasn't been called haiku yet, but the collaboration of 10,000 leaves. It started from nature of poets. Read 575, 777 called Tanka and it became one book in the 8th century. So it's embedded into our Japanese year 575. It's very comfortable. And then it became the samurai era, my favorite era, the Kamakura period of the 12th century. Favorite era, the Kamakura period of the 12th century. The haiku poet became more. It wasn't still haiku. That was the form of haiku was born, the era the poets gathered together and they take a turn of five, seven, five, seven, seven syllables to create a longer poem until each poet gets satisfied. And the first 575 was called Hokka and that became haiku, the standalone poem seven, five syllables.
Speaker 2:And traditionally I say it has to have indication of the season and celebration of the nature and entwined with your feelings or emotions and some sort of atmosphere of the town or mountains and it's broad, subject and object and explore subject and object. Who is reading it or who is experiencing it? It's five, seven, five syllables, three lines. Let you travel into the area and you get somehow exploring. The poet created this scenery.
Speaker 2:That's the traditional haiku and we'll talk about a little bit more later. It's called kigo, seasonal war wars. It has to have it if it doesn't have it and it goes more black humor and satire and criticizing politics and so forth in the 575 syllables. That is called in Japan senryu. It is still very popular to this date and some people make a very sharp, very funny, very black humor. It's like, oh my ouch, kind of haiku style. And in Western culture the line between haiku and senryu can be very broad because senryu can have seasonal word. And how do you differentiate that? And I do not have someone clearly differentiate haiku versus senryu in a Western culture way, because Hawaii doesn't have winter.
Speaker 1:And then, how do you?
Speaker 2:get. That gets more. Internationally it gets blocked. So to summarize it, faiku is five, seven five syllables and traditionally it has to have the indication of the season. It doesn't have to be snow or element. It can be your melancholic feelings when you see the Ottoman is coming. That feeling can be used as indication. In Japan there are references. You can check if this Kigo is right or not. But in universal way it's more free.
Speaker 1:Yeah, I mean, I think with a lot of Japanese craft there's a subtlety, so vagueness, and I guess from context or life experience, japanese would understand. Oh that you know, even though they're not using specific words, they're talking about winter or they're talking about summer. Or they're talking about winter or they're talking about summer, or they're talking about a feeling of sadness. And actually I remember when I was studying Japanese in Japan, one day a teacher said you know, we're going to learn haiku, and she introduced me to probably Japan's most famous poem, matsuo Basho's the Old Pond, and I think this is considered to be the most important and famous haiku in all of Japanese history.
Speaker 2:Yes.
Speaker 1:And it depicts a very simple, yet beautiful image. So would you like to read this in Japanese, with the correct rhythm, of course, I'd be happy to Thank you.
Speaker 2:Oh, that's such an honor. Furui ikea kawazu tobikomu mizuno oto. Kawazu means frog right.
Speaker 1:Yes so it's an old pond. No-transcript, that's all. Yeah, I mean as someone first learning that, because I was like, oh, this is kind of what, Like a frog jumps into a pond. Okay, that's it, so what? Then Then, yeah, maybe we have a bit of you know, life, wisdom and understanding about Japan and spending more time reflecting on the poem and the imagery. Yeah, you gain a sense. Okay, there's this old pond. A frog jumps in and it obviously does make a sound, but after the sound.
Speaker 2:The plush.
Speaker 1:There's no sound. A sound, but after the sound there's no sound. So I've read up about this poem and what it could mean and there seem to be many interpretations. So what does this poem mean to you?
Speaker 2:Thank you for asking. This is one of my favorite poets and favorite poems. There are a bunch of variety of translated versions and the closest one is the frog does make a sound. The indication is the closest to my understanding. Haiku uses a cut word to let readers to allow to interpret how you like it and this shows a pocket of the cheerfulness of the summer an old pond.
Speaker 2:As a Japanese, I grew up in a little suburban and there was a shiitake farm forest there and there was an old pond there, a shitake farm forest there, and there was an old pond there and I pictured that. And surrounded by overgrown shrubs and everything, everything. No one is taking care of anything and most covered rocks around it and all the cheerfulness outside of the forest. It's creates a big contrast. You can almost see the pond reflecting the summer blue sky. No one's there, the stillness, almost powerful image of your being alone there and you can hear the frog, sudden movement of frog that cuts the stillness of the moment.
Speaker 2:That is a great imagery to me and for me, because I have that experience of me roaming around the shiitake mushroom farm to find the old pond, mirror-leaf pond. No one else was there. That lets me explore my childhood memory from there and that's why I really love about this haiku form to let you keep on going your version of a story, because of this, almost in indication only, and here we have ingredients, no recipe, go right ahead, that kind of brevity, you would say. And then I love about the shortness and conciseness of the summer. The contrast I would say the biggest impact of this haiku poem is to me, is a contrast between all the summer, cheerful summer, festival, summer vacation, family get together and go outside and kids laughing. Then you're there looking at the pond, so still and sudden movement of just one tiny frog can make a significant change in this three line poem. It changed the like a movie changed the direction of the camera. It becomes big in my brain.
Speaker 1:It is fascinating, as you have just explained. So for you what I understand, these poems are sort of open to personal interpretation. Yes, they create this image and this meaning and and context, and I guess the consistent idea is this, in this case, this connection to, to nature. So this is probably why it's very meaningful to to japanese, because they would have this association to oh okay, a frog's jumping into a pond. It could suggest it's a warm or hot day. Also, I know there have been interpretations that the pond might represent, you know, the conscious mind or unconscious mind Right?
Speaker 1:yes, frog jumps in, could be a thought, a significant thought, a break in one's thinking, and then, as a result, they're left with this free mind or contemplation Right yes, that's the beauty of haiku.
Speaker 2:yes.
Speaker 1:So it's fascinating. And then what's also fascinating is the destruction of 575, and I think you've touched on how it came about. The structure reminds me of the maxim structure sets you free and if you have a firm structure, this allows maximum creativity within the structure. And knowing there's a pattern provides safety. But you can then express yourself and take you know, take creative risk and a lack of structure means like, oh, where do I start from? And you have this anxiety and you become overcautious. So structure really frees us to focus on the substance of our work. So I imagine for haiku poets having the structures very helpful and allows you to be creative. So it kind of sets you free creatively. So is that what you think and feel?
Speaker 2:Yes, exactly, I agree with you 100%. I used to think 5-7-5 syllable structure is just a set of rules you have to follow and when you think that way, it's a cage and it just restricts your expression. But when I actually start creating haiku and try to find the best word in three lines, it is actually like having a backbone as a vertebra instead of a crustacean. Because I have a backbone, I can go freely because I have something to hold on to, and that gives you just exactly what you said. Structure sets you free. Because I have backbone I have hold on to, I can go anywhere, I can let my imagination wild. And going back to the 575 syllables to check upon, it's something, a sense of grounding you don't get when you're writing something. You try to find some word from air and oh my goodness, and you see in front of the computer and the white screen staring at you back and now 575, I do have the set. Okay, so I put the first five. Okay, now, next seven, the five, next five doesn't make any sense. Okay, then it starts, but you still have the structure.
Speaker 2:There's such a comfort for me to create a haiku portion and it came to other writing style as well. I think when you write ikigai-kan, you have structure, well thought out structure for invite us in and explain it and let us soak in and some examples. That is a structure right and with that structure you have some place of start and you call it okay. That's it for now, for this portion that is distilled into five, seven, five syllables. It's a proven form from 8th century for such a long, rich history to rely on. As you just said, god will to keep me safe from falling off, I still fell off. I was amazed how 575 syllables gets me feeling lost. How do I get lost in 5, seven, five syllables but still has the structure situ free? Is true to so many things and it's the concise manner you can see in very short time.
Speaker 1:Is haiku, I would say this is so typical of japanese culture, this simplicity, and I mean it's only 17 syllables, so very short, but so much can be conveyed a season, a life, the feelings and emotions of, yeah, sadness or joy, or even both, within the one poem. So yeah, japan has this beautiful way of creating structure to express emotion, with this emphasis on season. And you mentioned earlier, haiku incorporates this device, poetic device known as kigo. So what is kigo and why is it important?
Speaker 2:Well, kigo, in English sense it's indication of the season, and in Japanese as well, and it was very much used everyday life. When I was in Japan and doing administrative job, taking those jobs, I wrote my boss's letters and you had to add Kigo in that business letter and greeting. And Kigo comes in. Then, subject of the letter comes in and greeting again. The Kigo is so much embedded into our everyday life in Japan.
Speaker 2:When it comes to haiku as a poetic device, it is nothing special. For someone who grew up in Japan. It's Kigo that each season we celebrate, so more celebration involved than other countries, involved than other countries. There are Kigo. The Saijiki is the reference book for the Kigo listed in there and you can actually use it for finding the right Kigo for the business letter or haiku. Yes, it's not right or wrong. Sometimes it goes off, someone gets too much power to it and you have to follow this kind of attitude. And when it becomes more of a cage instead of a backbone, I found it on that I'm on the fence of having the reference of Kigo in Japan. It's extremely helpful, but it also limits your imagination and the new finding of the words, of combination of the words. Haiku should be playful, can be playful and then evolve as we evolve human evolves so that references get updated every year, but I still think I'm on the fence. Is it a good thing or not good thing?
Speaker 1:Yeah, I mean kigo, which I guess we could translate to seasonal word. Yeah, it seems to be the go-to subject of you know, small talk.
Speaker 2:Right.
Speaker 1:I mean Japanese seem to be more conscious of nature and season, seasonal change, and I guess because of that, I think they have a more deeper awareness of time, how time changes, a more deeper awareness of time, how time changes, and I guess that's why it's expressed in haiku and sumi-e, like ink painting or in many crafts. And to quote from your book, you write my hope is that each haiku invites you to pause, as if experiencing each moment anew, from the lively wildflowers of spring to the stark slumber of winter. So you're clearly emphasizing seasons here, yes, but you're adding these words of the slumber, the stark slumber of winter, or the lively wildflowers of spring. So there seems to be, yeah, this deeper connection to season and winter. I don't know Japanese art and, obviously, how you express it so beautifully, and this leads us to wabi-sabi.
Speaker 2:Okay, how exciting.
Speaker 1:And that's another fascinating word and concept and you write. In haiku poetry we often encounter the quiet yet stirring presence of wabi-sabi and, like Kikigai, wabi-sabi has become popular and appreciated outside of Japan. But I think the West's understanding or the interpretation of wabi-sabi is quite narrow and it's often defined as the beauty of imperfection. But that's probably not enough.
Speaker 2:It is part of it, but it's not the whole idea of wabi-sabi. Just like ikigai you said it before it's not. You chase and get it like it's more of you, feel it and cherish the emotion around it. And wabi-sabi is very similar way. It is because of imperfection and fleeting moment. You naturally have this moment of reflection like ah, stop, pause. And that's the moment you wear kind of wabi-sabi lens to see something beyond. It's the imperfection, it's the little window to go beyond the element in front of you.
Speaker 2:And we are so trained and almost conditioned to see something is beautiful, has to check off these boxes, some stable, something colorful, something good contrast and like good layout, and it has to be go this way, that way. But why? We said it frees us to the imperfection, frees us to feel the sense of something behind it, something around it. In this digital era, we are just craving for the immediate answer yes or no? Black and white, zero one. We have to go check, check, check and go next thing. But it's the moment you free yourself to see, but it's the moment you free yourself to see, just like your father-in-law and you and your father-in-law's conversation was very fascinating. I would like to hear that more.
Speaker 1:It wasn't really a conversation, but yeah.
Speaker 2:Just you asked, and then he said it's not something to be explained, it's something you feel.
Speaker 1:Oh, he didn't even say that Actually I learned. It's actually from you that I learned. It's something you sense. So wabi-sabi is not just the aesthetic of something, it's something you sense. But yeah, from my father-in-law, who's a potter, he makes traditional tea ceremony cups, shinoyaki. He actually introduced me to the word and it was kind of strange because he'd been, he wanted to make traditional Japanese pottery in a mountain kiln. So it's a long story. But he purchased land and he, you know, hand kill and it was sort of a passion project and it was very difficult because the first two firings failed and they lost hundreds of pieces of pottery. Well, once he finally had, um, I think, on the third fire, you know know, they produced some pretty good pieces.
Speaker 1:And I was in the factory one day and he was, you know, busy wrapping things and he had two pieces up on the desk and he speaks Tonobin and he kind of he's a man of few words, but I think he was like he said something like which one do you think would sell for more or something, and one had that perfect kind of catalogue look, it was symmetrical, lovely looking. And then the other one was kind of off and wonky and I'm thinking, well, I should say the opposite to what I think. So I was thinking I should say it should be the wonky one. So I wasn't even really listening to my heart, I was thinking very objectively. But then I thought, nah, it has to be this one that looks like a catalogue, like the perfect. So I kind of chose the you know symmetrical perfect one. And he's gone chiao, like no, just chiao, and he's just pointed to the wonky one and he just said wabi-sabi, wabi-sabi, and then he left.
Speaker 1:So he didn't even explain.
Speaker 2:Have that chance to ask.
Speaker 1:And I'm like okay's, he said something very significant here, because he's never taught me anything. And then I'm, but I'm like he used the word wabi-sabi I asked my wife like oh, what's wabi-sabi?
Speaker 1:and she kind of stopped and just said like too hard. And then I remember going online this was a long time ago, this was like almost 18 years ago and looking it up and the only things in English were like these interior design or books on pottery, thing-ish yeah. So it took me a while after that to you know, having conversations with you and getting a feel for it that it's traditionally, it's related to the aesthetic of pottery and the feeling pottery generates, but it also obviously ties in you know, nature and, I guess, other traditional crafts.
Speaker 1:But it's, yeah, it's this fleeting moment where it seems to cut through your consciousness and you have this moment of pause and reflect and it's sort of just you and the world connected for a moment, consciousness, and you have this moment of pause and reflect and it's sort of just you and the world connected for a moment, or you and this reflection on nature or beauty. So it's almost like a little epiphany. When you have this sense of wabi-sabi, yeah, you're kind of lost in it for a moment. Yes, exactly.
Speaker 2:I think that's the essence. Yeah, that's the essence of wabi-sabi.
Speaker 1:Yeah, you're kind of exactly.
Speaker 2:I think that's the essence. Yeah, that's the essence of wabi-sabi and it is extremely difficult to explain because that's on us, how we interpret and then how we cherish it in our own terms. In our own terms means it's not general, it depends on your state or sometimes your mood. That affects the sense of wabi-sabi, how you feel about wonkiness of the cup. Sometimes you you're exactly right to choose the perfectly made portly. It's supposed to be good for the market. Everyone is looking for, someone is looking for wonkiness to see. This is interesting. It speaks to me. Something speaks to me. It's the conversation between, not the particular cup but the story behind it. You communicate with the elements. Essence of the element, you would say the wonkiness of the cup. You talk to the essence of the wonkiness.
Speaker 2:What happened in Kirin and what happened to the journey of becoming dirt became a finely intricate process. You become dirt to a cup and became wonky and that has a rich depth of the story. I cannot get enough of it as a storyteller. It's just a that is a story opening piece, yeah, and when you see the perfect one, you can make it from the factory or whatever. It doesn't have to be handmade. It clearly shows more depth, and that's why I mentioned uneven cup in my book. It's remembering your story with your father-in-law.
Speaker 1:So thank you for that, thank you, thank you. Yeah, it's almost like you see the spirit of the object come alive. Yeah, it's talking to you, it's calling you. Thank you. Yeah, it's almost like you see the spirit of the object come alive. Yeah, it's talking to you, it's calling you. And you offer actually two metaphors of wabi-sabi in your book sakura and a fallen, dried brown leaf. So would you like to touch on those two metaphors?
Speaker 2:Thank you so much for asking me that question. Yes, sakura, the cherry blossom. It is, of course, very famous for Japanese. Everyone loves cherry blossom, and the moment we cherish the most is right after the peak season. The petals go like storm petal storms and fall into the river or make it a carpet of pink. And that moment, the fleeting moment. We see ourselves Not everyone when I say we, many of us we see it as a fleetingness of our lives.
Speaker 2:It's the cycle of life. It's simple we are born, we live and we're gone. And that brilliance of this flower petals, the way it goes away without any regret. We see it as a human, humanize it, and without any regret, it just leaves from the trees in the peak Without even wilting it's still the full blooming state and leaves petals just start leaving and create such a spectacular pictures of fallen petals everywhere. That is the way of ending our lives would be such a beautiful way of ending. A friend told me that when we went to Sakura Cherry Blossom Festival and she said, oh, I would love to end my way like Sakura Cherry Blossom, the other said, yeah. My father said that too. It's kind of embedded into Japanese way. I think it's too old, too old.
Speaker 1:It is a beautiful image because obviously there's Mankai, where it's full season and everyone goes out drinking, and there's this beautiful bright pink sakura in full bloom. But there is something, yeah, yeah, so beautiful about towards the end and yeah, you could just be walking home and you see three or four petals, just right, and there's. There's something magical to that.
Speaker 2:that's poignant about something, poignant about that moment, and it stops you and make a moment to come back to your state. And here and there we I repeatedly say so, but it's we're busy and somehow we're feeling pressure to go, move on, move on. But when you see just you beautifully created imagery of two or three petals dancing down, trailing down, it is a poignant moment. You go back to yourself oh, the world around us is still beautiful. Sometimes it's hard to find it's right there.
Speaker 1:Yeah, I mean someone religious. Might you know interpret that as oh, that's God talking to me, or that's how profound and meaningful you could interpret. So sakura is very beautiful, but also I love koyo, and so that relates to yeah, autumn leaves or leaves, so you touch on that as well, so would you like to speak about that?
Speaker 2:I'd love to. I'm a big fan of um unsung heroes and when you see those brown leaf it's spectacular. In the autumn Everything else becomes yellow and orange, bright, crimson red, but on the ground you see a brown, weathered leaf alone and I see it as extremely good example of wabi-sabi to let you see beyond the leaf. The leaf represents us a life well lived. So, whether it has no energy left, it's got life well used and I imagine this was from the new shoot in the spring, like light green and proudly becoming green and providing shade to the kids and families. And now everything else becoming yellow, red and everyone is admiring the direction. And it leaves its branch, ending its life and nothing left in that leaf. It's empty. Everything energy was used up and I see it as a very proud life, well-lived. And that's the beauty of Wabi Sabi and I cannot believe this character of me is thinking about the moment of this is the power of Wabi Sabi. This is not a Genki person, would think I'm just the next person, but when you see it and the wabi-sabi, I would say a sense of wabi-sabi lets you pause. And I found a different version, a different angle. The same me found a different version, a different angle, the same me, but different angle. It often overshadowed my genki, enthusiastic version comes out, let it come out and enjoying it oh yes, I enjoy this kind of thing too.
Speaker 2:That's the wabi-sabi and the power of wabi-sabi. I would say it's like a lens or invitation. It's a little pocket. You find it and you peek through it. It's up to you how you interpret. And there's such a freedom in there and it's just freedom. It's imagination, your memories, your experiences, your personality, all effects that's uniquely yours. That's what I love about giving the space. You said it in Ikigai, a sense of Ikigai. You have to have some space in your mind. So it's, I think, japanese philosophy connected to that's some level of we have to have some space to be ourselves.
Speaker 1:I mean that's appreciated and articulated by a few words. So yutori, or even ma, like the space between musical notes, or you know, after a clap, or in architecture, or in ikebana, you know.
Speaker 2:Right.
Speaker 1:In Ikebana they use very few flowers. So yeah, I think you're right. It gives us this moment to pause, to almost exhale and have a moment of like we're fully connected to something. And, touching on this idea of a life well lived and how that can be conveyed by a dead leaf, I found this other beautiful poem by a famous haijin, so a haiku poem called Yoko yeah. So would you like to read this one in Japanese, of course, what an honor. And then we'll translate it.
Speaker 2:Okay, this is by Ryokan Ura. Wo mise omote, wo misete chiru momiji.
Speaker 1:So short, but so much. Yes, so it's translated. Yeah, many ways to probably translate this, but I found this one. It shows its back, then its front, falling autumn leaf, and so, yeah, I guess you have this image of an autumn leaf spiraling down, but it's also had this life before this moment. So I think it speaks of this life well lived and the fleetingness of nature that you write about.
Speaker 2:This poem also speaks to me. It's such a we talked about. This structure sets us free. And this is such a short poem 575, three lines and gets the very simple truth we are born, we live and we will be gone. It's a simple truth, but the turning down, the showing, this side, the other side, tells you the complexity of our existence. And such a talk of a big world in one leaf is just this brevity and the brilliance of haiku poet work. And let us think about our life, if we let it, and we are so busy. But if we let it and we are so busy, but if we let it, there are moments of something that gives you a reflection or something. We try to notice that and be aware of that. And you wrote in your Ikigaikan book or was it Miyako-san's word?
Speaker 1:Miyako Kamiya.
Speaker 2:Being able to identify your Ikigai, that lets you enjoy the feelings around it and you can have the life with feeling, you said, and the vagueness of feeling we are so impatient nowadays. But having that feeling, let it vague something to explore more, something be curious about how far you can go, how deep you can do. The element, the keep it as is and keep exploring, is the beauty of both ikigai and Wabi Sabi and that lets us to go to the haiku of this ryokan. I love him.
Speaker 1:Yeah, it's amazing when you give yourself time to like I needed time to understand this, so I think we really need to.
Speaker 1:yeah, stop and be, contemplative and think, oh, what does this mean? It's okay, it's a falling autumn leaf, but it's obviously conveying something more than that. And, yeah, this 17 syllables, it sort of had a significant impact on my mind, you know, over the last week or so. And to think about this and prepare for this podcast and to sort of explore haiku again and just makes me think the creativeness of all these haijin, all these poets from hundreds of years ago, are impacting us now we're having this conversation about them. So haiku is this beautiful art and you write. The art of haiku, with its delicate craft, mirrors the principles of wabi-sabi. It captures fleeting moments, often intertwined with nature, and prompts us to embrace a deeper appreciation of beauty beyond the immediately visible. And I think that's, yeah, a perfect articulation of what we've been talking about. So let's dive into some haiku. In your book, to enhance your haiku experience, you obviously took and curated a collection of photographs.
Speaker 2:Yes.
Speaker 1:To serve as bridges, guiding the reader deeper into the haiku poems you wrote. So I recommend our readers purchase your book because then, they can enjoy reading haiku, but let's share some. So would you like to share several of your poems and and give us, I guess, a taste of what's in your book and maybe some detail all?
Speaker 2:right. My hike poem is an invitation for readers to create from there and I set the stage for the readers and this is one of my favorites in the early summer, a speck of hopeful blue In the deep still woods, a piece of Robin's eggshell, skyward, new life source. There. I was in a deep wood and I knew there was a Robin's nest and under the tree I saw a speck of eggshell. That is the sky blue and that tells this bird belongs to the sky, and at least the eggshell tells. I would like to think that way. It left the nest and now it's flying somewhere. We we don't have big snakes in this forest, so I hope they flew. But that's the beauty of invitation.
Speaker 2:I was there in a deep, very damp, dark forest floor looking at the white. So something is. It's sparkling. It was blue, teeny tiny blue. I pick it up and it's a blue eggshell and light, so teeny tiny. And I remember there was a nest. I come, I came here earlier in the summer. It was mother was feeding it furiously and now it's just a empty nest and an eggshell. And now my mind's flying with trying to see the robin. And that's a three-dimensional trip I'm trying to invite my readers to take with me.
Speaker 1:Beautiful, yeah, I mean, it also reminds me of you had to be kind of in the forest aware to see the shell, like maybe I imagine you're walking through the forest and you see something what's that? And you go and take a look and it generated this haiku. So how did the book come about? Did you go out looking for experiences, or were these experiences things you remembered and you record?
Speaker 2:Well, thank you for asking me. This was my. I came to the States my mouth try not to say, but it was 2011. So since then, I was walking around this hiking trails and little primitive trails everywhere, and I love taking photos and making notes and sometimes it became prose and it used to be. I love sharing it them with on Twitter. Now it's not so much, but that is my creating note. It's a seed of my haiku. It's 12 years of creation Me solo on a hiking trail and accumulation of trips I created. The stack was already there. The picture was I have gazillion photos in my hard drive and notes and everywhere. It's just a ridiculous amount of notes there and it became a book.
Speaker 1:I see. So these are reflections of you've had over the last decade and you've taken some of them and you've turned them into haiku.
Speaker 2:Yes, some of them are too Pacific Northwest. I cannot help but share that moment. I have to share those moments for creating haiku, to share that. I picked those moments for creating haiku. That's another batch of baking bread or something it takes a lot of intricate.
Speaker 1:Well, let's share some more. So would you like to share? All right.
Speaker 2:Thank you. It's my memory of Japan and it is sorry for the interruption. You mentioned we are talking about poets hundreds of years ago of Japan, and it is sorry for the interruption you mentioned. We are talking about poets hundreds of years ago and we are talking and you are in Australia and I'm in the Pacific Northwest and in between us is the Pacific Ocean, and I always love to think of wherever you are, we are still on the same planet and that is this haiku poem and a harmony at horizon.
Speaker 2:Mountain layers fade Bluer with each distant peak. Sky and earth unite. That's where I went to the very high mountain and see I was able to see all the way to the Pacific Ocean In the distance. I saw the glistening Pacific Ocean above the mountain peaks and the horizon became blue and the moment I realized that my husband is a fisherman, so he was somewhere over the ocean, and I often have to think we are still on the same planet, yet I haven't been to anywhere else.
Speaker 2:So this is one of my themes to create we are still in it together. Wherever you are, we are still connected. We can be connected with using this word. Going up the mountain takes a lot of effort. This is a perfect invitation for someone who cannot travel to the mountains like I do. I'm very close to the mountains, on just one hour drive, but someone has to take an airplane and it's a whole lot of effort. This is an invitation for them to imagining the mountains lining up to the Pacific Ocean. It's still all the blue and the shades of the blue. That's what I try to make a stage for the readers now.
Speaker 1:This actually reminds me of my recent trip to japan, last month actually, and I went to oshino and the day before we, or on the day we arrived, it was very overcast and couldn't even see mount fuji. And you know the one of the locals saying, uh, it's not looking good. You know tomorrow's gonna be cloudy. And I was thinking, oh no, like I've come all this way to see mount fuji and I probably won't see it because the weather's gonna be bad anyway. The next day was a beautiful, clear day and.
Speaker 1:I saw. It was probably the first time I really had time to really look at Mount Fuji, and I understand why it is a source of imagination and inspiration for so much art in Japan, whether that's, you know, woodblock art or haiku. Right, ukiyo-e, yeah, you kind of I think you've touched on Fuji kind of does unite earth and sky, exactly. It kind of does unite earth and sky Exactly. There is something about you feel the presence of the mountain just by looking at it. So I think observing nature and spending time to experience the wonder of nature is certainly powerful, and obviously Japanese came up with this way to articulate that through haiku.
Speaker 1:So I'd like to end this podcast with a quote from your book. Together with this collection, we celebrate the haiku not just as a literary form but as a living conversation between past and present, poet and reader, tradition and innovation. May these haiku serve as stepping stones for your imagination and may your journey through them be as revealing and profound as the centuries-old path they continue to illuminate. So I think that's a wonderful piece of writing and wonderful poems, haiku poems and beautiful photos that you're sharing with the readers. So where can our listeners purchase your book Quiet Wonder?
Speaker 2:It is available on Amazoncom and it is going to be worldwide in a few weeks. Awesome, and right now I could invite listeners. I'll give you the link and then, if someone can get interested, if you under my website, misakoyokcom, quite one of the sample request. That's the page, so I will share the link with you and I'll be happy to taste my sample of buffet of pacific northwest with the beauty of. I cannot get enough all right, well, I will.
Speaker 1:we'll put that in the show notes, all the links, thank, you. To your sample to Amazon and, if you want, we can publish those poems you read out, maybe with the photos as well.
Speaker 2:Oh, that would be fantastic. I'll send you the photo, the perfect photo for this.
Speaker 1:Awesome. Well, it's been lovely chatting. Congratulations on your book, Thank you. It's good to catch up and hopefully one day we'll catch up in person and we can, who knows, maybe take a walk and observe the beautiful nature.
Speaker 2:I would love to see Mount Fuji. I love Japanese pottery and I cannot get enough of the traditional Japanese pottery, especially wonky ones. I would love to see that.
Speaker 1:Indeed, there's so much to enjoy about life. So it's been an ikigai moment for me to catch up with you, Misaka. Thank you.
Speaker 2:Well, thank you so much. It's wonderful to be back, and thank you so much for inviting me again.
Speaker 1:My pleasure. We'll do it again with your third book.
Speaker 2:Oh, your next book.
Speaker 1:Okay, thank you.
Speaker 2:Thank you.