The Old Tea Seller

 One of the books I took up the mountain was Norman Waddell’s account of Baisaō, the Japanese poet.

Baisaō means Old Tea Seller, so that’s what I’m going to call him. The Old Tea Seller lived from 1675 to 1763, under various names. (That’s another story for another day.)

I’m interested in him for two reasons.

First, he undermined the dominant paradigm of his culture, as scholars would say. Or, as the hippies put it, he undercut the Establishment.

Second, he changed his own life, at least a couple of times, when he was no longer young. Now that I’m old, I’m interested in people who can do that — who can look at changing themselves rather than trying to change the world.

The Old Tea Seller spent most of his life as a Buddhist priest. He lived during a period of military rule, the Shogunate. It was a period when conservative militarists were discouraging individual expression and encouraging order and conformity.

In all societies, respect for religious institutions ebbs and flows. The Old Tea Seller mourned that monks, who were once revered for seeking enlightenment, were despised as parasites.

The problem, he thought, was with the idea that seekers should be free to seek — that doing work takes them away from seeking.

If one monk in a community spends his whole life seeking, perhaps a village will love the idea and will feel charitable when the monk shows up asking for food. If 400 monks in a monastery hit the streets looking for food, the community sees a plague and feels something other than charity.

The Old Tea Seller was a Zen master. He was in line to be abbot of his monastery. When his teacher died, The Old Tea Seller found another candidate for the job and hit the road. He wandered for 10 years, learning from other teachers. He also wanted to think things through.

The Old Tea Seller eventually settled in Kyoto, the capital. Instead of begging for charity, he supported himself by selling tea.

Working for a living was strictly forbidden, and The Old Tea Seller resigned his priesthood and his Buddhist names. Old men who lived on the fringes of society by selling refreshments were called old tea sellers — and the Old Tea Seller appropriated the name.

Many people who have heard of Baisaō are interested in how he changed the way people thought about tea. At the time, people drank matcha, a kind of powdered tea, in elaborate ceremonies.

The Old Tea Seller brewed loose leaves, known as sencha, with little ceremony. The informal conversation at his stall attracted artists and writers. Can you imagine having a Zen master for a barista?

In an era when individual expression was discouraged and conformity was demanded, The Old Tea Seller ignored the social pressure and the rules. He took what he found valuable about Zen and spread it through the streets of the capital, a cup at a time.

• Source: Normal Waddell, The Old Tea Seller: Baisaō; Berkeley: Counterpoint, 2008. Waddell’s book is in two parts. The first is a biography, quoting heavily from The Old Tea Seller’s poems and letters. The second includes translations of The Old Tea Seller’s work.