Lhikan & Keiko
Lhikan
Keiko, I’ve been thinking about how a disciplined ritual can hold a legacy while still allowing for subtle change. How do you decide when to cling to the ancient steps and when to let a new idea seep in?
Keiko
When I watch a hand lift the tea bowl I pause, and I ask myself two questions: Is the gesture echoing a line from the old book, and does it still make the present feel complete? If the answer is yes, I keep it. If the answer is no, I note the difference in my journal and let the new idea taste in the pot. The ritual is the spine; the fresh breath is the paper between the ribs. I only let a new step in when it sings with the same quiet reverence, otherwise I lock it away for a future season.
Lhikan
Your method is steady, like a good old drum. You honor the past, yet you give room for growth. Keep noting the changes, for the future will thank you.
Keiko
Thank you, the drum keeps its steady pulse, each note caught in the margins of my journal, each change a gentle echo that will help the next ceremony find its own breath.
Lhikan
You have a clear path, Keiko. Keep listening to that pulse; it will guide every future ritual.