The art of the daily routine: Why Sado is genius
Have you ever experienced a Japanese tea ceremony (Chadō or Sadō)? Me? Never, although I’ve been Japanese since I was born. The most notable feature of Sadō is its formalized beauty. In essence, it is simply a ceremony where a host makes powdered green tea (matcha) and guests drink it. What makes it unique is that every single move of making and and drinking tea is strictly prescribed.
The ceremony originated in the 15th century, with a major merchant developing the basic style in the 16th century. Though I haven’t experienced it, I am utterly amazed by the creativity of that merchant. Let me reiterate: It’s just making and drinking tea. The merchant must have been a true genius to elevate such a daily routine up to a stylized, spiritual ceremony. For example, I frequently have munchies, but I just gobble them up and have never once thought to stylize the act of snacking.
The core of mindfulness: Seeing things as they are
The Japanese tea ceremony is always associated with the Zen Spirit. These days, the Zen Spirit seems to be gaining popularity, particularly in Silicon Valley, as the origin of “Mindfulness.”
It is admittedly very difficult to explain what the Zen Spirit truly is. Let me exemplify its essence. Suppose there is one big rock in a garden, appearing old, dark, and rugged. People might judge it as “dirty” and hope it would be removed.
The Zen Spirit, on the other hand, strives to see things as they are and avoids making immediate judgment. From the viewpoint of Zen, the rock is simply covered in moss and black mold, having been exposed to the weather for a long period of time. It embodies a quiet, objective view—an inquiring mind that seeks the nature of things without imposing a subjective standard.
The grand contradiction: Seeing everything in nothing
Although it may sound contradictory to the objective stance mentioned above, imagination to see something in nothing is another essential feature of the Zen Spirit. This is where the profound paradox of Zen lies.
Let me tell you a very famous story expressing this imagination. One day, the then Shogun visited the merchant’s garden (the one who formalized Sadō), having heard that the morning glories were reaching peak bloom. The Shogun expected to see a spectacular field of flowers, but to his anger, he found that almost all the flowers had been mown off. He went into the tea ceremony cabin in the garden, only to find a single morning glory carefully placed in a vase for him.
The Shogun was deeply impressed. He realized that the field of morning glories, stirred up in his imagination by that one perfect flower, was far more beautiful than the field itself. In this same logic, the Zen Spirit encourages you to find the essence, the potential, and the expansive beauty in something simple or minimal.
The Zen of furniture: Simple beauty, vast imagination
Where does this intellectual exploration of Zen’s two contradictions—objective observation and imaginative emptiness—lead us?
It leads back to the design philosophy of our furniture. Our products are intentionally simple, clean, and minimal. We hope that the Zen Spirit in you will encourage you to look at our furniture not as just wood and fabric, but as a quiet, objective presence that allows your imagination to supply the rest.
If you can see the beauty of an entire forest in the curve of a single wooden armrest, then we have succeeded. (And unlike me, who can only gobble snacks, you will have successfully mastered the profound art of simple appreciation.)
I may be a man who lacks the spiritual discipline to turn snacking into a ceremony—I just see cookies and eat them—but I’ve finally found a way to let Zen into my living room without having to give up my munchies. Our Hatsune Miku Art Chair is the ‘single morning glory’ of the furniture world: a minimal masterpiece that invites your imagination to see an entire forest in its curves. We’ve stripped away the noise so you can find the essence, proving that even a snack-gobbling mortal can appreciate the profound beauty of ‘seeing things as they are.’ Sit down, quiet your mind, and let a digital legend lead you to your own moment of mindfulness. (Just try to keep the cookie crumbs off the Zen.) —— The Hatsune Miku Art Chair.
Shungo Ijima
Global Connector | Reformed Bureaucrat | Professional Over-Thinker
After years of navigating the rigid hallways of Japan’s Ministry of Finance and surviving an MBA, he made a life-changing realization: spreadsheets are soulless, and wood has much better stories to tell.
Currently an Executive at CondeHouse, he travels the world decoding the “hidden DNA” of Japanese culture—though, in his travels, he’s becoming increasingly more skilled at decoding how to find the cheapest hotels than actual cultural mysteries.
He has a peculiar talent for finding deep philosophical meaning in things most people ignore as meaningless (and to be fair, they are often actually meaningless). He doesn’t just sell furniture; he’s on a mission to explain Japan to the world, one intellectually over-analyzed observation at a time. He writes for the curious, the skeptical, and anyone who suspects that a chair might actually be a manifesto in disguise.
Follow his journey as he bridges the gap between high-finance logic and the chaotic art of living!