Saturday, February 20, 2021

欄間 and a sacred space

"Your sacred space is where you can find
 yourself over and over again."
~ Joseph Campbell

欄間 (Ranma) is a transom.
Transom: ˈtran(t)səm | 
    Noun 
• strengthening crossbar, in particular one set above a window or door
The definition doesn't do Japanese ones justice though.  They're downright works of art. Chances of finding one in an old Japanese home are good; in newer ones not so much since most don't even have 和室 (washitsu)--traditional Japanese style rooms with 床の間 (tokonoma) alcoves, or tatami mats. I never was much of the "most folks" variety though, so the washitsu was my favorite room of our house even without having a ranma in it. I love it even more since Life gifted me one unexpectedly a couple weeks ago. 

Hand carved and way older'n me I'm guessing, which is pretty damned old!  The term "ranma" entered my vocabulary when I built a room addition over the stairwell. I wanted one in there so bid on a few on Yahoo Auction only to end up building one myself out of old shoji doors salvaged from an adult student's parents' home. His folks had passed away so he was having the home demolished before selling the land. It's the damnedest thing about Japan, empty lots sell for more than ones with traditional, well-constructed older homes. My California carpenter heart breaks every time I see one being destroyed, but that's life so take advantage of it when and how you can, like this:


Above is what was left of the house around the corner last week.  Upon hearing it'd soon be demolished I walked over to peek inside and spied two beautiful transoms. 

I returned to ask about taking some the wood. A worker said sure, I said thanks, hauled some 2x4s home then returned the following nights for more. I figured they'd remove the transoms so let them be until finding the big crusher parked outside one night. It'd already torn into the house and the transoms were still there in place so that's it! They're mine! A few days afterwards I saw a nice interior door that I almost took crushed in the rubble. Sooner or later folks int this land've gotta learn throw away and make new is unsustainable. I'll continue modeling turn trash into treasure behavior till they do. 

I knew it'd fit since all rooms in Japan are measured in "jo". A jo is the size of one tatami mat--1.8 x .9 meters.  The measurement system dates back many hundreds of years. In every house the shoji door opening widths are the length of one, 1.5 or two tatami mats, give or take a smidgeon, which is exactly how much I had to cut off the end of the transom for it to fit perfectly. That would come later though, because when I held it up against the drab green wall.... 
Ugh! I've gotta change that. 

Thus my obsession with salvaging building materials became coupled with one for painting. Days of masking, painting and salvaging between and after teaching classes ensued. 
            


 When the weekend arrived rescuing long wished for landscaping stones was added to the list. Alas transporting those required some improvising.  My Australian neighbor friend offered to help but even two men couldn't lift, let alone carry, the big ones, so what to do?  The solution is pictured below. I now know how the pyramids were built thank you very much. The Egyptians built carts out of old kids' bicycle wheels and scrap wood. 
Oh yes, and used slave labor! 


I didn't know laying eyes on the transom would lead to a retreat into the  sacred space, but that's exactly what happened. Getting lost in a project like this is always a first class ticket to the Promise Land for me and, make no mistake, the Promise Land is not a geographical location. Far too much blood has been spilt over that wrongheaded reading of the religious metaphor. The Promised Land is a place in the soul, and there are as many paths to it as there are people in this world methinks. 
I know this because time and again Life puts stuff like this in my path to guide me there. This time it was a demolished house with a transom. I've no idea what it'll be next but am certain something will come along by and by. 


The house is gone now. No more nights of donning the headlamp and walking what's left of its halls, picking through rubble for wood, removing hinges, doorknobs and the like. I scored enough to keep me busy with projects for some time. There's a certain pleasure in getting cheap building materials too. I couldn't help but think of Thorough's used materials price list for his house in Walden. I pulled it from the shelf to read before succumbing to exhaustion one night. Ah yes, here it is. I'm in good company.


And so I tell this tale as I gaze up at the 欄間  overhead. These past couple of weeks have been a reminder that Life has my back to the degree that I stay true to myself and go with the pull of it. When I get too frustrated with the mess of a world out there lo and behold It leads me back to my sacred space.  

"After" shot of Dojo/classroom/tatami room with transom,
recently salvaged interior post turned new heavy bag beam and white walls! 

Newly salvaged stones joined the countless bucketloads of beach pebbles.
Rock garden wall is currently in imagining stage ;) 

 

2 comments:

Tolladay said...

All that wood! Watching the destruction is so painful. I love the idea of a project being a path to the promised land. Oh so true.

I'm working on a project now. Its still in the mental stage, existing mostly as a couple of pages of sketches, and a tape measure used so much in my spare moments that rather than put it away I leave it on my work desk. There are lots of scribbles as I revise, revise, revise, each time making it simpler and cheaper to build. Each moment I spend thinking about it is a mini vacation to the promised land. And once I start, it will be one long extended stay, often interrupted by the real world, until its finished and installed. Then it will be enjoyed from afar like a trophy in a hunting lodge. A piece of furniture that tells the story of a struggle, and a journey, reminding us of the path out, and the time away, but also a reminder of how lucky it is to come back home.

caseysan39 said...

The mental stage is a sacred place in itself though isn't it! Being able to return and salvage stuff, all the while imagining what I could use this or that for, is definitely better than seeing a house being destroyed while driving by with no time to stop. Thanks for reading and the comment, can't help but smile and be intrigued with your "mini vacation". I look forward to seeing it.

About Me

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In late summer 1998 I moved from the place I grew up and spent most of my life (Central California) to a small town in Japan. I loved training in Shotkan and dreamt of training in Japan someday, I just didn't know someday would arrive when it did. I signed a one year English teaching contract, missed California life quite a bit but decided okay one more year then that's it. A few months into that second year contract I met a girl. You can probably guess the rest. The plan was return to California eventually but here I am still--still with that girl and now three awesome getting bigger every day kids to boot. Sometimes we pick the journey. Sometimes life does. I still enjoy doing martial arts. Still learning how to dad. Got a house, learned the word expat, etc. Oh yeah, and I love to write. Not that I know anything more about it than what I haven't forgotten that English teachers taught me. More that I find joy in doing it. Write for who or about what? The greatest American poet sums it up best: "One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that is myself".