A Life That Shone Brightly

A Japanese phrase, “a candle in the wind,” describes a life that shines brightly despite adversity. Few embodied this more than Dr. Genshitsu Sen, Hounsai Daisōshō, the 15th-generation (retired) headmaster of the Urasenke School of Tea, who lived with purpose and influence for 102 years.

When Dr. Sen passed on August 14, 2025, after a short hospitalization, the global tea community mourned. Testimonials, personal reflections, and accounts of his influence quickly appeared on social media, alongside long lists of his accomplishments. In truth, a full record of his achievements could fill volumes.

A Global Legacy

He offered ritual bowls of matcha in the name of “world peace” at venues as varied as the Vatican, the USS Arizona Memorial, ‘Iolani Palace—in honor of the Hawaiian royalty who first welcomed Japanese immigrants to Hawai‘i—and Kawaiaha‘o Church. He helped establish Urasenke chapters across the globe, funded the construction of authentic tea rooms (chashitsu) in multiple countries, and created scholarships for non-Japanese students to study the intricate art of chanoyu at Urasenke Gakuen in Kyōto. He also supported artists by sponsoring training with master craftspeople in Japan.

Hawai‘i in His Heart

Closer to home for Hawai‘i readers, Dr. Sen led groups of Urasenke practitioners to the islands for more than 43 years to take part in summer seminars on tea, Japanese culture, and Hawaiian culture—pausing only during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. His generous monetary gifts to the University of Hawai‘i established the Sen Sōshitsu XV Distinguished Chair in History and the Sen International Way of Tea Center within the Center for Japanese Studies at University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. He built four tea houses in Hawai‘i—the largest number in any state or location outside Japan. In fact, six were built in total, including two that burned down and were later rebuilt under his guidance. He also gave personal funds to community causes, including donations to Maui County to aid victims of the Lāhainā fire. Each year, up to two UH Mānoa students received scholarships and stipends to study at Midorikai, the Urasenke Gakuen School of Tea in Kyōto—consistently the highest number from any single state or nation. In every sense, Hawai‘i held a special place in his heart.

Dr. Sen’s personal and financial generosity seemed boundless. Yet he did not have to be so magnanimous, either locally or internationally. As headmaster of one of the three direct lines of tea from Sen no Rikyū—who once taught and served samurai leaders such as Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi—he could easily have rested on prestige and tradition alone. Instead, he chose to share the 450-year-old practice of chanoyu with the world.

Forged in War

That commitment to peace through tea began in the most warlike of circumstances. During the Battle of Okinawa, Sen’s unit was ordered on a final sortie. At the last moment, however, his commanding officer ordered Sen alone to stand down. “Why are you holding me back when all my comrades are going to their deaths?” Sen demanded. According to his account, the officer struck him hard in the jaw, knocking him to the ground.

“Bakayarō! (idiot!)” the officer shouted. He told Sen that, as surely as night follows day, Japan was destined to lose the war. When that time came, Japan would need to rebuild, and as the inheritor of one of the nation’s oldest cultural traditions, it was Sen’s duty to survive in order to help restore the country. That, the officer insisted, was his ultimate responsibility.

Even so, Sen must have carried the weight of survivor’s guilt, as nearly all his brothers-in-arms perished in that final, desperate sortie—perhaps with the exception of one other. The burden grew heavier as he returned home by train, traveling through landscapes scarred by years of bombing. Factories and cities lay in ruins. Only Kyōto, among Japan’s major cities, had been spared widespread destruction—protected by U.S. Army civilian advisors who argued fiercely for the preservation of its irreplaceable cultural treasures.

A Tea Revelation

When Sen arrived at his family home, he called out, “Tadaima! (I’m home!)” An assistant urged him to help his father, Tantansai, the 14th-generation Urasenke Tea Master, serve important guests in the tearoom.

To his shock, Sen found American Army officers respectfully waiting to experience a bowl of tea. “Here we were,” he later recalled. “A few months ago, we were sworn enemies, ready to kill each other and die fighting each other. Now they were honored guests in a tearoom! I realized then that war is senseless. I decided to use the tea ceremony to create wa (peacefulness) in a bowl of tea—using it to bridge cultures and create understanding between people around the world.”

Hawai‘i: The First Step Abroad

That revelation marked the beginning of his mission, though his first real steps came in Hawai‘i. While classes in chanoyu had been taught locally—most notably by the late Sae Tachikawa, a pioneering Japanese language school teacher—no formal chapters existed outside Japan.

Reizō Fujikawa, a successful Hawai‘i businessman whose wife loved tea, sponsored the 29-year-old Sen to leave Occupied Japan. By day, Sen attended the University of Hawai‘i, and in the evenings and weekends, he taught tea at the Fujikawa residence in Mānoa, where a room had been renovated for instruction.

Thus, Hawai‘i became the site of the first official overseas branch of Urasenke, serving as the model for all future chapters worldwide. Sen was welcomed with open arms. When he stepped off the plane, he was draped in lei upon lei, as if he were a local graduate. The Nisei community treated him like a rock star—and he looked the part: tall, slim, and movie-star handsome. His charisma charmed his students, and their husbands took him to parties and dinners, where he discovered Hawaiian music, learned to be gregarious, and grew comfortable in any setting, even among non-Japanese at a time when such ease was rare.

He embraced island life. He learned to play the ‘ukulele, wore aloha shirts and slacks when not teaching, and enjoyed the freedom of walking around incognito. At UH Mānoa, he struggled at first with English, but professors were patient. Once, a local Chinese American student noticed his unease in class and offered to tutor him—for free. “Because in Hawai‘i,” Sen later said, “people do things like that.”

Beyond Hawai‘i

Sen’s success in Hawai‘i emboldened him to venture farther. One of his first stops was San Francisco, where a wealthy hostess invited him to stay. “I thought my English was pretty good,” he laughed. “Until I opened my mouth and she gasped, ‘What are you saying?’ ‘I’m speaking English!’ I replied. She scolded me: ‘That’s NOT English! I have to teach you proper English!’”

He realized that Hawai‘i’s unique culture—and its Pidgin English—had deeply shaped him. “I thought I was speaking English all this time,” he joked. “But I was speaking Hawaiian Pidgin! I was saying things like, ‘Wassamatta you?’ ‘Bumbye,’ ‘Okole maluna’?’ Those weren’t English!”

While he relearned “proper English,” the deeper influence of Hawai‘i remained. The openness, warmth, and aloha spirit he experienced became central to his ability to share the Way of Tea beyond Japan. His gregariousness, graciousness, and openness to non-Japanese drew countless students into chanoyu.

The Gift of Aloha

Sen never forgot the gift of aloha he received as a young man, only a few years removed from the devastation of war. He repaid that gift many times over. Even as he spread his message of “peacefulness in a bowl of tea” across the globe, he returned to Hawai‘i every summer, bringing Urasenke members to share in Hawaiian culture. He bought a home in the islands, making it his second residence and place of refuge. When he married, he brought his wife Tomiko to Hawai‘i, and as his family grew, he often brought them to share in the islands’ tropical warmth.

Welcomed as a 29-year-old newcomer, Sen never forgot the aloha he received. In turn, he shared friendship, peace, and generosity with people all over the world during his 102 years. The candle in the wind that was the life of Genshitsu Sen may have gone out, but the countless candles he lit in others continue to shine.

In 1984 Wayne Muromoto received a scholarship as a student at the University of Hawai’I at Manoa to study chanoyu at Midorikai, in Kyoto, Japan. He was a writer for The Hawai’I. Herald, and  is currently a retired school teacher and professor who taught journalism, fine art, digital art, and digital photography at the high school and college levels. He continues to study chanoyu.