Some time ago I heard of a great zen master sculptor from Japan who created, after many years of hard work, an entirely new kind of masterpiece. So when I was told that one of his lineage would be teaching in my home town I ordered my stone slab and immediately began preparing it.

I purchased books, DVD’s, and a hammer and chisel in anticipation of the zen master sculptor’s seminar. Though I worked very hard in the weeks and days preceding the seminar my slab was only moderately prepared when zen master sculptor K arrived.

Many others, each one with a more or less prepared slab, came for the seminar. Although we differed from each other in degree of slab preparedness, that wasn’t a problem for zen master sculptor K. He observed our differences and worked within the limitations of our individual slabs, without missing a beat.

“I am here to teach you, no, to facilitate your realization of your own masterpiece,” he said in his introductory statement. “Each of you has masterpiece within and I want help you manifest it in slab you have before you.” He smiled and paused.

“I want show you way to bring out your masterpiece. You all will have masterpiece but it won’t be same masterpiece. Each masterpiece will be colored with individual, personal characteristics.” His smile was assuring and ever-present. His charm was irresistible. “Each of you will chip away at your slab and, bit by bit, reveal your wabi-sabi masterpiece.

“First, locate center of gravity of slab. Begin there and always work from there. Though you may create visual asymmetry as you chip away at slab, you will always have balance if you work from center of gravity.

“Envision your masterpiece in your mind. Patiently, chip-chip-chip away at your slab using mental picture as template. As understanding grows of what ‘masterpiece’ mean, template will change. Allow this to happen. This change is aspect of realizing masterpiece and will give smoothness and articulation to slab, to masterpiece.

“As you progress, you will notice that slab will have natural beauty that is simple and unadorned. You will see that what you chip-away are the distractions from its inherent beauty. Now you will begin to recognize masterpiece taking shape and form.” He looked around the room and into the eyes of each one of us.

“And when you have completed masterpiece it will have legs and feet that dance and wings that fly, and it will have light within that shines forth. But, of course, you will have to work hard and long to manifest such a masterpiece.” He surveyed the room again, walking left and right as if gliding over the floor, radiating positive energy with his smile. Then he stopped.

“O.K. Place chisel and raise hammer this way. And please keep weight underside, o.k.? Now, bring hammer down.”

He taught us so many things that weekend; I hope that, as time goes by, I’ll remember just a few. He taught us exercises in levitation, limbo, tight-rope walking (backward and forward), baseball, ballet, sword-swallowing, juggling, bullwhip cracking, chicken and duck walking, and extremely low altitude aeronautics (ELAA) that included sky-diving without a parachute. And, of course, singing, dancing, and laughing. And yet all of these fun activities, which he brought together with masterful skillfulness and magic, served as just a warm-up for the work ahead: revealing the masterpiece in our slabs.

Halfway through Saturday morning he saw that we all were working too hard at levitation. “O.K. O.K. Every one stop and sit down, please,” he said, clapping his hands twice.

“Most important is you relax,” he said softly, smiling broadly. “Relax, and everything come to you – you don’t have to chase or reach or struggle. Allow everything come to you. To do this relax completely; be cool. Remember: wabi-sabi, not wasabi.” What a sense of humor!

Periodically during the seminar, zen master sculptor K would show us his masterpiece. Wow! On one or two occasions, he placed his masterpiece next to my slab to give me a sense, a feeling of what it should be like. It was a very high honor but, I must confess, painful at times. It inspired me, and reminded me that I have a long way to go.

There are many teachers, many kinds of teachers, and many kinds of teachers teaching many kinds of disciplines. But there is a subtle, difficult-to-notice ability that some teachers have, especially in the zen master sculpture discipline, which separates the masters like K from the good and even the very good. A slab is both inert and unruly, having been subjected to various environmental influences. How does one manifest the masterpiece in the slab? How does one communicate with a mind the proper way to chip-chip-chip away with chisel and hammer? How does one inspire a mind to work hard enough on a slab that, eventually, natural beauty can take form? How did he take us from duck walking in one moment to skydiving in the next? These are questions I will ask zen master sculptor K next year when he returns. My feeling is that his response will be natural, simple, and beautiful, because it’s what he is and what he does.

If you missed zen master sculptor K, you missed a lot, but he’ll be back. So start today preparing your slab.

(P.S. A heartfelt “Thank You” to Kashiwaya sensei from AAKS for a masterpiece of a seminar.)

Bill C