Something once said about Ryokan has been on my mind, something very touching if one understands the context, which I am unable to give adequately here. After reading so much of his poetry, I feel I know his heart, and I also have some idea of the austerity of his training as a Soto Zen monk. Yet it's occupied my thoughts recently and I would like to share it.
After almost 12 years of training at Entsu-ji in Tamashima (in addition to four years before that at a local temple, Kosho-ji, Amaze, Izumozaki), Ryokan was ordained a priest by his master, Kokusen, who gave him a walking stick and a piece of paper, confirming his ordination. On it, Kokusen wrote: "Ryo seems foolish, but the path is very wide."
A year later Kokusen died, and Ryokan set off on pilgrimage for five years. After learning of his father's death, however, he returned to his native place and settled on Mount Kugami.
Ryokan had been head monk at Entsu-ji, a prestigious temple, and could have expected to be an abbot of his own temple, but he chose a different path. Once when such an offer was made to him, he responded with the following haiku:
the wind brings me
enough fallen leaves
to make a fire
What Ryokan's master said, what Ryokan wrote ... these words must be felt. An explanation ruins their beauty.
When the Master (Lin-chi) was first in Huang-po's group, he went about his activities in an earnest and straightforward manner. The head monk expressed admiration, saying, "Though he's still young, he's different from the others!" Then he asked, "How long have you been here?"During the talk, a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees and swirling incense in the hall. And Sandy asked "What are the leaves saying?" He turned to Samana, a little 4 year old girl and asked her directly, "Samana, what are the leaves of the trees saying?" She answered without missing a beat, "Please give us some rain."
"Three years," said the Master.
The head monk said, "Have you been in to question the teacher yet."
The Master said, "No, I haven't been in to ask questions. I don't know what to ask."
The head monk said, "Why don't you go ask the Reverend who heads this temple, `What is the real basic meaning of Buddhism?' "
The Master went and asked, but before he had finished speaking, Huang-po struck him a blow.
When the Master returned from the interview, the head monk said, "How did the question go?"
The Master said, "Before I had even finished asking the question, the Reverend struck me. I don't understand."
The head monk said, "Just go ask him again."
The Master went and asked again, and again Huang-po hit him. In this way he went three times to ask his question and three times was struck.
The master came to report to the head monk. "Thanks to your kind instruction, I've been able to question the Reverend. Three times I questioned him and three times he struck me. To my regret, I'm impeded by bad karma and can't grasp the profound meaning in all this. Now I'll be going on my way."
I have been asked many questions in my life about poetry, religion, life, and I have given precisely the same number of answers, but I have never, I repeat, never, satisfied a single interlocuter. Why? Because all questioning is a way of avoiding the real answer, which is really known already. Every man knows he must love his enemies, and sell all he has and give to the poor, but he doesn't wish to know it--so he asks questions.
-- R. H. Blyth
Zen does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes.But how does one get there? Or, as I asked before, how does one find peace?
Public transportation is uniformly good (great?) throughout Japan, and I'm just as comfortable taking it in Bunsui (pop. 16,000) as I am in Tokyo (pop. 1 gazillion). I like not having a car here and yet being able to travel either locally in the city or anywhere in the country. Mike said he hasn't driven a car in ... well, I don't remember, but for many years.
That doesn't mean there aren't inconveniences, like getting from one mode to another or trying to get the timing right. So sometimes you see that "double time" type of walk or even a run to catch a bus or train, or the converse, people sitting around trying to kill some time.
And I've mentioned the occasional sardine experiences. And then, like this morning, I was heading out of the hotel for breakfast, but I took one step outside and immediately turned around and found a cafe in the hotel. It was already hot and humid in Tokyo this morning ... I don't mind hot and humid, but I'd rather get a little further into the day before feeling like I need another shower.
I've heard there's a festival happening in Tokyo tonight and tomorrow, and fireworks (?) tomorrow night. I need to find out more. And there's also that museum, the Yamatane Museum of Art, that was closed last time I was in Tokyo but it's open now ... it's on my itinerary.
Illusion and enlightenment? Two sides of a coin.We hiked back down and then stopped by Otogo-jinja, which is somewhat lower in elevation than Kokujo-ji and Gogo-an, Ryokan's hut for about 10 years. Otogo-jinja is where the taxi dropped me off last year, in the rain ... I'll never forget the "lost" feeling I had, and the skinny little yellow frogs leaping out of my way as I descended the steps to the shrine.
Universals and particulars? No difference.
All day I read the wordless sutra;
All night not a thought of Zen practice.
An uguisu sings in the willows along the river bank,
Dogs in the village bay at the moon
-Ryokan
From the mountain paddiesThis time was just as special with Reiko and Yamata san, just different. If you look at the photos you'll get the feeling these structures are "all roof" ... they're massive. This area gets really heavy snows, and I remember reading last winter, I believe, that the equivalent of the national guard was sent in to dig people out.
near this gate
the sounds of frogs,
their voices precious to me
in the evening
-Ryokan
Coming and goingShe relayed that to her ... and she knew the location of the tree, which had a marker. So off we went. Some gentlemen were nearby playing crocquet, and when asked about the tree one said what's there now is "number three" since Ryokan's time. I snapped some photos anyway.
I have never tired of
the view
of that single pine tree
standing in the paddies of Iwamuro
Taking the 9:10 bus this morning to Izumozaki, south of here. It's a little closer to Kashiwazaki and apparently had some damage due to the earthquake. There's a little Ryokan museum there, Ryokan Kinenkan Mae, that I'd like to see again ... and a book I haven't been able to locate that I almost but didn't buy last time. I haven't seen it anywhere else.
Also I'd like to explore a little. From there I may head up to Washima and then Bunsui again, if there's time.
Before I go I'll pick up 3 rolls of natto sushi to keep me going. I'll explain later.
When I got to Bunsui I was welcomed in by Yuuko and Yamata-san for ocha while waiting for Reiko to arrive. This town is so closely knit. As I've watched people come and go from Yuuko's shop, or from other shops, customers and visitors alike are welcomed inside, urged inside, to sit and have tea. And it's not just for show, it's not just manners on display ... this is how they live. You welcome me, I welcome you.
Of course I'm not so naive as to believe there aren't squabbles or differences, but there are some things that just can't be faked. There's a lot of happiness here. They're doing something right.
Yesterday I gave a little gift to Yuuko, and when I did, she brought out the gift I had given her last year along with the wrapping. She didn't have to look for it, and of course a year has passed and she had no idea if she was ever to see me again.
Today while we had tea with her friends, she brought out a scrap of paper from last year on which I had written some things about Ryokan and North Carolina. I have to tell you I was really touched.
A little later Reiko drove up and we chatted more. I found out that one of the women in the store cleans and repairs Butsudan, Buddhist altars. So I took a photo of the altar in Yuuko's shop, which sits in a little tatami room (each tatami mat is 90 cm x 180 cm, and hers is an 8-mat room ... typical, she said).
Before heading to Yahiko we stopped by the woman's shop and saw her working, and had some coffee. These little interactions seem so typical and expected. Of course different altars are priced differently, but a typical one can sell for about $25,000.
Although clouds covered the peak of Yahiko Mountain it was a pleasant day to see the shrine ... so cool and breezy in the mountains. The large "jugs" with kanji characters on them are jugs of sake, Reiko said.
We took a lift to the top of Yahiko though the view was obscured by clouds. Back at the shrine we saw a museum that had a small sculpture of Ryokan-san, as well as a painting I liked that I (as usual) inadequately photographed, titled "Izumozaki" by Ryoichi Sasaoka ... wish I could get a print. (An aside: Izumozaki is nearby and is where Ryokan was born).
It's late in Nagaoka ... bedtime. Thanks for reading along.
I took the 9:40 bus to Bunsui this morning, arrived an hour later, and began walking, trying to get my bearings. Where was Yuuko's rice shop?
Without thinking or remembering precisely where to go, I walked right to her shop without missing a turn.
I have imagined what that moment might be like. As I approached the front of her shop, I noticed a man sitting there alone where I typically saw Yuuko sitting. I stood there for a moment and our eyes met ... after a long pause, I finally said "Yuuko?"
As I'm writing this, I now wonder why I didn't ask "Yuuko wa doko desuka?" (where is Yuuko?) That may have been more helpful because he and I wound up talking to each other in our respective languages with little convergence.
Eventually I took out a scrap of paper and wrote down the names I knew there ... Yuuko (the rice shop owner), Reiko (the English teacher), and Nanzan (the sake shop owner).
And then I said "kyouju" (professor), and that seemed to ring a bell. So he got on the phone and called Reiko and she and I talked. She explained to me that the man is Yamata-san, Yuuko's husband, whom I had not met before.
So Yamata-san and I sat there and had tea and managed to exchange a thought or two with the help of my little English-Japanese dictionary. I still had no idea where Yuuko was or if I'd see her.
About 15 minutes later, though, she walked in the door and saw me sitting there. She paused in front of me and we both gave deep bows to each other, eyes misty.
A little later Reiko showed up and that moved the conversation along ... I heard Yamata-san telling her what happened when I first showed up. I could recognize "gaijin" (foreigner) and "sensei" (teacher) and from his expressions the confusion he had. As he was describing it we all laughed and laughed.
Several of her friends showed up during the next hour or so, coming and going, and I met an English-speaking engineer who works at Kashiwazaki and who knew firsthand of the damage there from the earthquake. Apparently Reiko had taught him English in her class 30 years ago.
After a stop by the Ryokan museum I got to enjoy the festivities: a Shinto celebration in Bunsui, the Bunsui Matsuri. I was dazzled ... so many smiling faces, so much happiness, a totally engaged community. Look at the photos ... they say it all.
In the photo, from left to right: me, Osamu (the engineer), Yamata-san, Yuuko, and Reiko.
Last night I spent a little time wondering around Nagaoka. The pace here is much slower than Tokyo, the dress more casual, and there's no waiting in lines to get on an elevator.
From "the brochure," as of March 2000 Nagaoka has a population of 191,174. There are a couple of museums and a technical university here that I'd like to see.
There's a summer festival on August 1 to commemorate the "rebirth" of the city after it was virtually destroyed during World War II.
After dinner last night, which was a real experience in trying to order something vegetarian, I came back to the hotel wiped out, and went to bed early.
Today? I have a timetable for the buses and will take the 9:40 one to Bunsui like I did last year ... leaving in 45 minutes.
I didn't get to write up yesterday's events, and I'm off again today to Kamakura. I met an American teacher yesterday who offered to take me to Hokoku-ji, the bamboo temple, and have green tea and talk with me about his experiences teaching in Japan. He did a "one year" thing that has turned into an 13-year one, so I'm curious about his perspective.
I also have to say briefly that yesterday was so amazing ... a cool breeze on a nice day, walking who-knows-where. I had the thought that there was no cell phone in my pocket, that I couldn't be found ... the only reality was the now, the moment I was living.
And what gems I encountered ... a tiny modern art musuem where I went from piece to piece, each one speaking to me. "Winter in Aizo" (1958 in a series) by Kiyoshi Saito almost brought me to tears. The image above is his "Remnants of snow" (1983). I couldn't find an image of the particular "Winter in Aizo" piece I loved.
There's so much I want to write ... alas, I have to buy my shinkansen ticket for tomorrow and get ready for the train to Kamakura. Mike said there's a hike he wants to take me on ... apparently there were only a few passes into Kamakura, and they played a role in its history. He wants to hike one of them with me on the way to Hokoku-ji.
In visiting Kamakura today, I spent probably 4 hours walking from place to place ... at a 20 minute per mile pace, that means I walked about 12 miles, not counting all the standing and walking around temple grounds, a museum, etc.
On the train ride back I found a "nap buddy" so to speak. A Japanese businessman who must have had a rough day began slouching in my direction, his head bowing and shoulder pressing into mine ... I was tired too and caught myself drifting off on the ride back.
I'm a little tired now but will give an update on today's events soon.
Catching a train now to Kamakura ... will see the Great Buddha and Enkaku temple, founded in 1282 and associated with Rinzai Zen. I should say this is my plan, barring any typhoons or earthquakes.
How can I contain myself? I'm off!
And I still have two unaccounted-for days in my itinerary ... hmm.
Today I had three museums on my list that were high priority. Alas, to a one each is closed:
Only the latter one will be open before I fly home ... it's near my hotel, which I re-booked for the last few days before my flight.
As it stands, I'm to check-out tomorrow (Thu, July 19) and check-in to a hotel in Nagaoka on Sat, July 21.
One possibility is the Takayama area in the Japanese Alps, but it takes about 4-1/2 hours to get there from Tokyo, and I have to return through Tokyo to get to Nagaoka, meaning it's another 6-1/2 hours from Takayama to Nagaoka.
What little planning I did is now totally out of whack. And the hotel in Nagaoka is very inflexible on its dates, though I may try calling again.
Another more practical alternative is Kamakura ... temples and a giant bronze Buddha, among other sights to see. But that doesn't sound as picturesque and exotic as Takayama.
About Nagaoka ... thanks for all the well-wishes and (mostly) concern. But I think it will be okay ... I can't not go.
How often I changed my place
looking for a better spot.
But could I find a better one
than Mt. Kugami? No!
-Ryokan
The death toll has risen to 7 ... hundreds of homes and buildings were flattened, and troops were sent in to assist in relief efforts. Here's a link:
http://www.asahi.com/english/Herald-asahi/TKY200707170208.html
So no, I'm not going today.
But I re-booked my hotel in Nagaoka for Saturday, July 21, hoping by then that it will be okay to visit Bunsui and Mt. Kugami. So I'll be in Tokyo for another two nights, possibly longer, until I can figure out where to go and what to do in the mean time.
My rough idea had been to see Kugami for 5 days and then venture down to the Japanese Alps and see Iiyama, a remote town that has a small temple, Shoju-an, to which I feel some connection: first, it was established by Hakuin's master, and second, it was restored many years later by a local zen teacher's teacher ... and he recommended it to me as a scenic stop in the tranquil Japanese mountains.
Okay, I have to do my homework.
And I'm just now starting to come to terms with the possibility I won't see Mt. Kugami or the little town of Bunsui ... if you read the following post you'll understand why ... predictions of aftershocks, mudslides, etc.
Of course, of all the reasons I wanted to come to Japan, this was the warm fuzzy one that compelled me here.
Last year I missed Tiantai-shan, Han Shan's mountain in China ... I hope Mt. Kugami is still possible.
An earthquake Monday jolted Niigata and Nagano prefectures, killing at least two people, injuring more than 250 and causing emergency shutdowns of nuclear reactors.
The 10:13 a.m. quake registered upper 6 on the Japanese seismic intensity scale of 7, Japan Meteorological Agency officials said.
The magnitude 6.8 quake's focus was about 17 kilometers below the seabed some 60 km southwest of Niigata city.
Aftershocks were felt in the Kashiwazaki area of Niigata Prefecture in the afternoon. Meteorological agency officials warned that aftershocks of up to upper 5, or even lower 6, could continue in some areas for about a week.
They also warned of landslides following torrential downpours from Typhoon No. 4, which swept out to the Pacific Ocean on Sunday.
Police said an apartment building collapsed in Kashiwazaki, trapping three people who were rescued by prefectural police around midday.
More than 15 houses collapsed in Kashiwazaki, trapping the occupants, according to police.
The jolt caused a transformer outside the No. 3 reactor of the Kashiwazaki-Kariwa Nuclear Power Plant operated by Tokyo Electric Power Co. to catch fire. Black smoke was visible, and the fire was brought under control by noon.
Four workers suffered minor injuries, company officials said.
The plant's four reactors in operation automatically shut down when the earthquake hit. Three other reactors were not operating because they were undergoing inspections.
Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, who was in Kyushu campaigning for the July 29 Upper House election, canceled his speeches and flew back to Tokyo to deal with the crisis.
Some Shinkansen train services were suspended and a JR Shinetsu Line train derailed at Kashiwazaki Station. (IHT/Asahi: July 16,2007)
Nagaoka won't happen today ... I'm at an internet cafe typing this blog entry.
I got to Tokyo station this afternoon only to find out that there was an earthquake near my destination, Nagaoka, at 10:13 this morning, July 16. From what I can gather it was a magnitude 6 earthquake killing 2 people and injuring 150. Trains were off the tracks in Kashiyazaki, the place I changed trains last year when I was going from Nagaoka to Washima, where Ryokan met the nun Teishin in his final years.
Not sure when I'll post another entry but it will likely be once I get to Nagaoka tomorrow, if that's even possible ... first a hurricane, now an earthquake. I guess I'll just take events as they come, moment by moment.
Stay tuned.
Typhoon Man-yi is nearing Shikoku island and is projected to pass over Tokyo tomorrow at noon, the time at which I planned to take shinkansen, the Japanese bullet train, to Nagaoka.
See here for tracking:
http://205.85.40.22/jtwc/warnings/wp0407.gif
Do I give it a go, or wait it out? Just called the front desk and had them extend my stay another night with the option of checking out earlier. Hmm ...
Tokyo works in a way that seems consistent with my own temperament, so things make sense to me. This time I feel even more comfortable than last year here, and the thought of spending more time in Tokyo is compelling.
When I lived in the Pacific Northwest, everyone complained about the rain, but I never thought it was bad when I was in Seattle, and I wondered if it was just a way to keep a rapidly growing area from growing too rapidly ... just tell everyone it rains too much.
Everyone in Tokyo says it's too crowded, but like I wrote last year, every system seems to be robust or "over designed" enough to handle snafus or an occasional surge in volume. On my way to Ueno in the morning yesterday I barely managed to get into a subway car before the doors closed, and once they were closed it was clear that not a single human body could be added into that space ... we were that close together.
And as I was standing there trying to breathe and letting the claustrophobia sink in, and as all these jostling bodies were speeding forward, my single thought became ... try not to think about the two egg mcmuffins niku nashi ni I just consumed a little too quickly.
Gozan literally means "five mountains" and it's a term that's used to describe the five schools of zen that migrated from China to Japan. There is a special exhibit at the National Museum in Tokyo by the same name, showing the artwork and calligraphy associated primarily with the zen schools in Kyoto. Alas, it opens on July 31, the day after my flight back to the US.
Yesterday was my second day in the Ueno area with a number of museums. The first day I overslept when napping because I'm still somewhat jet-lagged, and I wound up getting there after many were closing. Yesterday I went earlier in the day but found I wouldn't be able to see the exhibit I was most intererested in.
That said, I also saw a collection of ukiyo-e art of Japanese women collected at New Otani, the hotel where I'm staying. Ukiyo-e was created during the Edo era (1603-1867) and it's name literally means "pictures of the floating world." The above is by Kudo Shunman and titled "two beauties walking in the snow with an umbrella." The image here doesn't do justice to the original, which I loved.
Before venturing out yesterday, I again stopped by the local McDonald's for breakfast. Okay, so it's not traditional Japanese, but it's an easier way to ease into the day with something familiar and satisfying.
That said, I still had to learn a phrase in Japanese to get what I wanted (after a mistake the first go round). The phrase? "Two egg mcmuffins niku nashi ni" ... or "... meat without." I have to admit it felt so cliche to be walking into McDonald's the first morning, but I've managed to overcome that mild sense of embarrassment for a comfortable way to start the day.
Planes, trains, and subways ... and now I'm in my hotel. It took 2.5 + 13 hours in flight to get here, and another 2:35 to get from Narita to my hotel via the Narita Express train and the Marunouchi line of Tokyo's subway system.
Walking around Tokyo tonight I kept thinking to myself, "why don't more people live here?" It just seems that good. Of course, I understand the irony of that statement.
I've had very little sleep the last few days though ... time to hit the hay. Tomorrow will have to take care of itself.
I have to admit I love this scene from the movie Airplane! in which Striker, at the cockpit, is thinking to himself in an echoey voice:
I've got to concentrate, concentrate, concentrate. I've got to concentrate, concentrate, concentrate. Hello, hello, hello. Echo, echo, echo. Pinch hitting for Pedro Borbon ... Manny Mota, Mota, Mota.
It's been a while since my last blog entry so that scene came to mind when I thought of the audience for these words.
(crickets chirping)
So, what does it mean that I'm writing this? There's the philosophical question about a tree falling in the woods and sound and whether anyone's around to hear it. Another quote, this time from N. David Mermin, Professor of Theoretical Condensed Matter Physics at Cornell:
We now know that the moon is demonstrably not there when nobody looks.
What am I saying? Not what you think I'm saying, which brings to mind the final quote for today:
Hofstadter's law: it always takes longer than you expect, even when you take into account Hofstadter's law.
