ANDREW CHALUBEK, 38, A RIGGER FROM ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA

slowly, but decisively drooped before flopping flat. After repeating several times, Kimiko sensei – who is as hands-on as she is knowledgeable – came to the rescue of the soggy stabbed stem which was probably even more disheartened than me at this stage.

She chirpily showed me which side of the stem needed to face upwards “as though it’s growing towards the sun” and secured it to a spike as firmly as a ship’s anchor. It was a tricky act to emulate but the next hour or so passed in a surprisingly calm haze of clipping, prodding, spiking (and yes, watching them all fall down from time to time).

Finally, I finished (at least I thought I had – the abstract nature of ikebana made me a little unsure) and I presented to the class something more wild and wonky than spiritually enlightening.

Kimiko sensei, however, was unwaveringly sweet and polite – complimenting my efforts before working her floral magic. Moving just a handful of fronds, she somehow, inexplicably transformed the whole arrangement into something entirely natural and beautiful, and imperfectly perfect.

After an end of class cup of Japanese tea, I boarded the Shinkansen bullet train back to Tokyo, my dissembled floral arrangement wrapped in newspaper sheets on my lap.

At home, I didn’t even try to recreate it and instead wedged the blooms into a tall ceramic vase (from which they were unable to escape) – and savoured the sense of calm that has somehow lingered, along with the scent of myrtle, since the class.