Today, on a particularly gloomy evening, I am completing a project that will apparently be delivered soon. Reviewing all the material collected, the research carried out, and above all the mutual consultations between colleagues, I couldn't help but think about the importance of the process and all the steps we took to achieve the final result.
I admit that I devoted a lot of time to it, so much so that I was convinced I would not be able to meet the deadline, yet here we are. We are almost there, and I feel that I have done and given everything I could.
But the positive thing that has emerged from all this “hard work” and the enormous amount of time spent is the pleasant feeling of having concentrated and paid the utmost attention to every single step of the entire process. Because it is not just a matter of receiving praise, evaluations, or constructive criticism, but of recognizing firsthand the effort and individual commitment without which we could not have completed the task entrusted to us. In short, it has become a personal issue for me; I detest professional sloppiness and overly easy shortcuts.
For this reason, for some time now, I have been trying to commit myself to achieving the best results, or at least I try, without neglecting all those necessary actions that I used to deliberately avoid in order to cut the time in half.
Yes, I was in a hurry to finish and I missed many things, perhaps the most important ones. Lately, I have realized that all the actions I have taken and the energy I have expended have brought me exactly where I wanted to be. But regardless of this, the journey to get there has allowed me and my colleagues to establish a relationship of trust and mutual respect, which is quite rare among people who are forced to collaborate on a project.
All this preamble to tell you that lately, when I am about to start a new job, I often find myself thinking back to the ritual of the tea ceremony (don't ask me why, I honestly don't know how to answer that...). The tea ceremony (chanoyu or chadō) embodies the importance of the entire process as a path to perfection, where every action represents harmony and respect, all done in order to “feel” and be totally present.
For me, it represents the perfect synthesis of the elaboration and subsequent action for any project I have in mind. Clearly, this is my personal view of how a job well done should be carried out, because, to be honest, it is very easy to lose focus these days.
The tea ceremony is perhaps the most significant example for understanding the importance of the process as the focal point, putting the goal in the background. I believe that the ceremony is the right metaphor, where every action performed leads to a result of inner harmony, the same harmony we feel when we complete a task and derive satisfaction and positive feelings from it.
But let's try to remember something about the tea ceremony.
Four fundamental principles coexist within the ritual:
wa (harmony)
kei (respect)
sei (purity)
jaku (tranquility)
Through these steps, Japanese tea is transformed from a simple drink into an experience that invites introspection, a bond between guest and host, and an appreciation of the present moment.
But can these four principles really be applied in everyday life? Perhaps some people practice them unconsciously without knowing it. Let's try to think about it.
The first principle (wa), that of harmony, if implemented in everyday life, could consist of interacting with the environment itself and the people we find ourselves with in the present moment.
So, through simple actions, such as preparing meals for our family, we can try to connect with our surroundings (in this case, our home), perhaps by buying objects that give us a sense of “warmth,” the same warmth (if you will) that we feel when we hold a cup of hot tea, coffee, or something else with both hands, deriving comfort from it and feeling a sort of, allow me the term, ‘inner peace’.
The second principle (kei), which concerns respect, is perhaps the most challenging, because in a certain sense it would oblige us to welcome others, respecting them and encouraging kindness and listening.
In the workplace, how often do we talk to a colleague, listening to them without interrupting or dominating the conversation? I have seen unspeakable scenes... yet sometimes it happens, because everyone is in a hurry to speak and never to listen... So perhaps we should proceed by showing our interlocutor a dignified form of reverence, recognizing their dignity, like that of the tea ceremony master (Chajin), who handles all the ritual instruments with extreme delicacy and respect. It seems easy, doesn't it? But it is not easy at all.
The third principle (sei), that of purity, consists of taking care, and we practice this every day, when we clean our homes daily as a ritual with simple, automatic gestures that, once performed, make us feel good.
The fourth and final principle (jaku), that of tranquility, is achieved after much practice, doing everything effortlessly and with precision. This can be linked to the work of a chef who must “maintain” calm and precision, managing the entire kitchen in the chaos of service.
Now, according to common sense, in a work context, we can try to convert some of these principles into something more realistic.
When we are in the middle of a meeting or a coffee break, we engage in certain behaviors that seem trivial but can somehow destabilize future relationships. We must strive to be respectful of others, engage in more “honest” conversations as much as possible, allow each other to listen, and try to avoid futile criticism or heated discussions over easily surmountable differences.
However, a more welcoming and tension-free working environment is perhaps an impossible dream, but on reflection, it does not seem so unattainable.
How many of us have been lucky enough to find a tension-free working or school environment? Probably very few... complaints are the order of the day.
So how can we create favorable conditions for getting the job done well? For many, it is just theory; they focus solely on the result, and so the environment, even if sometimes oppressive, is only a side issue, and alas, what a side issue...
Not focusing on the process and all the necessary actions involved does not allow us to expand our support network, whatever it may be. And most likely, it would not bring psychological benefits and personal satisfaction.
In short, we should act intentionally to prepare the ground for the best possible result, whether in collaboration with others or individually.
In the field of education, in order to develop the difficult area of reciprocity, a whole series of steps and actions typical of the learning process are implemented in order to focus attention on how to study really well, and only then think about the final result.
These are stages that involve personalized learning methods to motivate the student, and all this includes the constant support of a guide, whether a teacher, an educator, or classmates, who, through group activities aimed at encouraging reflection and collaboration, can contribute to the achievement of the final goal.
This is what happens if we want it to happen. Until recently, I believed mainly in goals achieved quickly. But despite my commitment, I sometimes forget the beauty of the whole process, and it is at this juncture that I try to remember the stages of the tea ceremony. Because it is precisely with small steps that a process aimed at the final goal is built, with a series of actions performed consciously, in appropriate circumstances and, if possible, in a context free from distractions.
And you, in general, when you have to work towards a goal, how important is the entire process to you? Do you follow certain steps or do you proceed quickly to achieve it in the shortest time possible?
