According to the Japanese calendar, spring this year started a day early on February 3rd. You might be baffled to think that spring has arrived during the coldest month of the year, but please just accept it because the Japanese have to do things ahead of time, never after the fact.

While I should be feeling cheerful and beginning to look for signs of spring in my garden every February, I have been quietly dreading the arrival of this month since I started learning the Way of Tea a number of years ago. Why? Because February is the ‘Opposite Month’. This is the month when guests sit on the left-hand side of the host instead of the standard right in the tearoom.
You might think what is the big deal. Well, it kind of is because everything in the tea preparation has to be done in reverse. Starting from entering the room with the left foot instead of the right, to placing the tea container on the left of the tea bowl that is usually positioned on the right.
There are many differences, but the movement of the feet is especially tricky. So the first day of practice is like being in the Monty Python sketch of the “Ministry of Silly Walks” in a kimono. This can be devastating for beginner students because the muscle memory they have painstakingly acquired over many months gets completely messed up come February.

The inverted tea preparation method was created by the 11th Grandmaster of Urasenke Tea School, Gengensai (1810-1877), who devised the procedure to be able to use a large sunken hearth called ‘dairo’ in the tearoom. Contrary to what I suspected, this reverse practice was not created to literally keep the tea students on their toes, but to use the large hearth that would keep the tearoom warm for guests during the coldest time of the year.
The first-ever dairo practice I did was all a blur, and come March, I was guaranteed to step into the tearoom with the wrong foot. When I whined about the dire consequences of opposite month to my teacher, I remember her saying something like “it’ll start to make sense after 5 years.” Of course, I thought, everything in tea takes so long.
But surprisingly when the dreaded February came last year, which was much longer than the 5 years that my teacher had mentioned, I had a strange feeling of not struggling as much as years past. After the practice, I thought about what was different because I still made a lot of mistakes. Then I realized that it was maybe because I was able to imagine the guests on my left. For many years, there were no guests in the tearoom in my mind because I could only focus on what I was doing with my body. Movements made more sense when I envisioned what should be done in the sight of guests, and what should be done out of their sight.
Recently, as dairo season approached once more, I pondered how amazing it must have been for the guests to have been invited to the first dairo tea gathering by Gengensai. How surprised they must have been when they got into the tearoom and all the utensils were set in reverse. How thrilled they must have been to see tea preparation from the other side, and to realize it was all devised to keep them warm.

For the record, I’m a big fan of Gengensai because he was also the first tea master to introduce the ryu-rei style, which allowed myself and Westerners to be served tea comfortably sitting in chairs. It’s a shame that I can never meet him, but how great that I can share his story with you here in America.
My tea teacher has not taught in person or remotely during the pandemic, so for the last few months the elder of my school has been graciously helping me practice at home via Zoom. And this week I’ll be starting my dairo practice. So why don’t you join me for opposite month? It could simply be by folding your clothes in a different way, or setting new rules to your daily walk. You might think it’s a bit childish, but introducing a different set of rules to my ritual and focusing on them have given me a new perspective, and a new way to feel. The effect is very similar to the feeling of being awakened after encountering a beautiful work of art.
Beautiful post. Ah, there’s always an underlying thoughtfulness. (The Groundhog might contest this, but makes perfect sense.)
Thank you for your comment Bruna. Did you ever practice dairo? I think children do this kind of thing naturally, they know that getting into the alternate mode is good for their mind!
I can imagine it is so hard to do once you’ve learned so many times to do it the other way around! I can just imagine the silly walks look of the first attempts 🙂 but as I always find February the hardest month of the year you’ve given me another way to liven it up a bit and I’m going to think of some practices to reverse (or do differently) for the month – and also that I need to get a flowering plum in my garden!
Aside from opposite tea, I’m currently experimenting different ways to peel/cut/eat citrus fruit… but I’m totally with you about February Joanna. So just imagine me in a kimono doing a silly walk 🙂 I love your garden, and a flowering plum in it would be perfect!
Lovely story Ai and very interesting. It also reminds me of doing every day tasks with your opposite hand to keep your brain sharp. Maybe this was also part of the intention of opposite month. As always, thank you for educating us in the ways of tea and Japanese culture.
Thank you Merle! I can’t do anything with my left hand, so I should think about using it more. There is always a reason for any movement in the way of tea and in the beginning it’s very frustrating, but it’s fascinating to realize what your body can do and how your brain can be stimulated through body movement!
It was refreshing to read the romantic fluidity of spontaneous and honest comments. I got here following a post of one of the students in our tankokai association.
The reverse and upside down folklore accompaning the month of February might root itself in some undeniable facts.
I dare though propose a less romantic story.
The left versus right muscular distrophy and cleverly concocted torture for students may have nothing to do with a ‘reverse’ concept. There is no change, no reverse as a rule here. It is the simple maintenance of a single concept: “when entering a room or crossing tatami do that always with the foot toward the guest”. This is a taoist and later samurai adopted principle underlining the respect for guests and the protection from the mizuya space.
That is all.
My sincere thanks for the pleasure reading your exchanges.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and for your comment and insight Gabriel sensei. When I first started learning tea, everything in dairo seemed “reversed.” Then only in the last year or so, it started feeling slightly more natural because of where the guests are seated. So as you said, I think I’m beginning to understand what the concept of hospitality towards guests entails. I never knew that entering the room with the foot toward the guest originated from a taoist concept to become a shield for the guests but it makes perfect sense. This year I placed a tape to show where the actual dairo robuchi ends, and understood why the futaoki needs to be moved. All of these spacial things I could not pay attention to for many years are also gradually catching my attention, and it seems that the more I practice tea, I feel that I know nothing. Thank you for your guidance and kind words!