Shitsurai in March
Jōshi no Sekku (Peach Festival / Hina Matsuri)
Traditionally, early spring was marked by Tōsei (踏青)—a custom of venturing into the fields, mountains, rivers, or seaside. The practice was believed to release the stagnant energy accumulated during winter from the earth, home, and body, making way for fresh, circulating vitality through deep breaths and immersion in nature.
As part of Omnicent’s Shitsurai lessons, we followed this tradition by stepping onto the cold earth, foraging for young greens, and then enjoying a bento from Café Jingoro at the garden of Riverwild Ham Factory. Preparing meals outdoors and using fire and water for tea or coffee is also considered a way to engage in the natural cycle.
During Tōsei, we collect both fresh green leaves and dried elements such as tree bark, stones, and fallen branches, following the ratio of about 1:9 visible in nature at the time. Participants gathered these materials directly from the land—untamed vines, shed bark, acorns, and stones—before arranging them into ikebana compositions in the afternoon.
Each arrangement was strikingly unique, reflecting the individuality of both the person and their chosen materials. One unforgettable moment was when a child’s red rubber band from their lunchbox was repurposed by the teacher as part of the tokonoma display—an unexpectedly bold and stunning accent.
Another key element of Tōsei is expressing the season through poetry. Alongside the gathered materials, we collect what we see, hear, and feel in words. This time, with children also participating, they were encouraged to observe carefully and write 31 syllables. To our delight, their collected words naturally formed a waka poem:
🌿 Wakana | Bamboo | Tsubaki & Sazanka | Moss | Caterpillar
☁️ Sky | Stone | Hanagoke | Pigeon | Pine Cone
Originally, after enjoying a meal or tea outdoors, people would sing their poems aloud in celebration of the season. Perhaps, at the very root of Japanese music, there lies this act of harmonizing breath with the outside world—a reciprocal cycle between nature and self.
One of the most thought-provoking discussions was on the delicate balance of “withered beauty” (kare). There is a refined dignity in graceful imperfection, in wabi aesthetics that avoid darkness while embracing transience. Achieving this balance requires an acute sensitivity, a deep aesthetic discernment that perhaps only deepens with time and experience.
It was a day of a lesson in stillness and abundance—within the quiet landscape of withered fields.