From Koyasan to Nikko

It was a crisp, clear morning on Saturday when we walked out of the Ekoin Temple gate and down the street to our bus stop. It was 5:55 a.m. But the sun rises early in Japan, and as we stood there, we could see the brightening rays in the west and the clear, full moon setting in the eastern blue sky.

Directly behind us, an aged monk was sitting in front of an altar, doing his morning ritual of chanting prayers. It was a perfect morning to say goodbye to Koyasan, where we had spent a remarkable few days.

(It will be necessary to turn the volume on your computer - and the YouTube volume - all the way up in order to hear the priest.)

As a side note, the goofy cartoonish monk character sign was ubiquitous throughout Koyasan. The community is getting ready to celebrate the 1200th anniversary of its founding next year, and this guy is apparently their "mascot." It is representative of something I've notice about Japanese culture, and that is the use of cartoon characters in signs, announcements, etc. I would expect to see this sort of thing for children, but not in adult society. Yet, it is. Along with child-like voices that make announcements at train stations, in elevators, etc., and music box music that is played when a train is approaching. I don't know if it is deliberate, e.g., to exert a calming influence on hordes of people - which I suspect it is in part - or is representative of some larger aspect of the Japanese psyche.

The bus picked us up at 6:06 on the dot, and we wound our way through the community back to the cable car station to descend to the train station below.

From there, we reversed our steps back to Osaka, arriving at Namba Station 90 minutes later and then taking a subway to Shen-Osaka station. Here, we caught a Shinkansen (bullet train) at 9:50, which took us back to Shinagawa Station on the south side of Tokyo, arriving at about 12:15. The highlight of the ride took place as we neared Tokyo and had an absolutely gorgeous view of the whole of Mount Fuji, except for a small ring of clouds that wreathed it about two-thirds of the way up.

We had seen a Buddhist art store in Kamakura when we were there that had some beautiful pieces, but we assumed that we would see something we liked better in Kyoto or Koyasan. That didn't happen, so we arranged to leave Koyasan very early in order to make a quick trip back to Kamakura before heading on into Tokyo.

When we arrived a the store, the owner told us that he would be closing in an hour for two weeks in order to do some remodeling. We couldn't believe our good fortune. We wanted to get a small painting for a friend of ours, and the guy had dozens of them - unframed - for us to look at. Finally, we chose one, and it wasn't until the fellow was rolling up the canvas and putting it in a tube that would fit in my suitcase that he said that it had been painted in Japan by Tibetans (presumably monks) and was based on Tibetan Buddhism. Again, we couldn't believe our good fortune because our friend is a practitioner of Tibetan Buddhism.

Then on to Tokyo, where we stayed at the same place where we had stayed when we first arrived in Japan. The next morning, we made some adjustments in our travel plans, deciding to go out on the west side of Tokyo and visit the American School in Japan, where Mark had gone to school for a couple of years in the 60's.

We had planned to leave for Nikko from a station close to where we were staying, but decided instead
to take a subway to Shinjuku Station, where we boarded a train to Musashi-Sakai Station, then
transferred to a small train that, two stops later, arrived at a station near ASIJ.

It meant a great deal to Mark to make this trip to ASIJ. I have tried to imagine from time to time what it must have felt like to him to have spent 10 years of his childhood in a foreign land, to which he had not been able to return until now. I haven't been back to the two towns in Illinois where I grew up in a very long time, but the fact is that I could have gone and still can without traveling halfway around the world. I can appreciate how much it has meant to Mark to see the places he lived. 

We weren't sure what we would be able to see at the school since it was Sunday. When we arrived, a security guard was reluctant to let us in. Mark told him that he had gone to school there as a boy, but the guard had apparently not understood. He said we needed to have an appointment. We asked if there was someone we could talk to inside the school. He handed us the directory, but said that all the offices were closed. Finally, in desperation, I tried to explain - again - that Mark had gone to school here as a boy, using my hand to indicate short height. "Ah!" he said. "Alumni?" "Yes!" we responded. That one word had made all the difference. He smiled and handed us the visitor sign-in sheet, gave us two passes, and off we went. Mark was able to see his old classroom and the campus and was thrilled.

Mark standing outside his 5th grade classroom

We then made our way back to Shinjuku station where we boarded a train for Nikko, arriving here about 3:00. We are off this morning to see some temples and shrines that are World Heritage Sites, the temple being the shrine to the first Tokugawa shogun who obtained power in the very early 1600's. This afternoon, we will board another train that will take us an hour north of here, further into the mountains, where we will spend our last three nights in Japan at an inn in a hot springs area.

While walking around yesterday afternoon, we had seen an Indian restaurant a couple of blocks from our hotel and decided to go there for dinner (particularly after we saw that the owner is Indian and there were Indian customers eating there). When we walked in later that evening, there was a group of four or five guys and a woman sitting at a table, and the first word that greeted us as we entered was "PFLAG" (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays - an American support group). 

As we heard bits of their conversation (in English) it became obvious that at least two of the guys are gay, and two were Caucasian. When they got up to leave, we couldn't resist. Mark told them we are here on our honeymoon, and they were all, "No way! How cool! Fantastic!" Turns out one of the Caucasian guys is from Boston and the other from Columbus, Ohio. Now what are the odds of us running into a group of American gay guys in an Indian restaurant in Nikko, Japan? Sometimes, as the saying goes, truth is stranger than fiction. (BTW, the food was *fantastic*.)

Koyasan: Okunoin Cemetery

Koyasan is regarded as one of the most sacred places in Japan, if not the most sacred; and it is certainly counted among the most sacred places on the planet. The most revered place in Koyasan is Okunoin Cemetery, and the tomb of the founder of Shingon Buddhism, located at the end of a two-kilometer walk, is the "holy of holies."

We made our first trip to Okunoin the first night we were here when an English-speaking monk from our temple took us on a night-time tour. The central walkway is lined with lanterns, plus there was a full moon out that night, making a magical place even more mystical.

At the end of the walk, after crossing a sacred bridge beyond which no photographs are allowed, is the lantern hall where thousands of lanterns are kept burning, both inside and out. The effect of this at nighttime was quite spectacular.

This hall is immediately in front of Kukai's mausoleum, where it is believed he entered "eternal meditation" in the year 835. Some 80 years later, so the story goes, a monk and imperial official entered the mausoleum and found that Kukai's body was still preserved, and his hair and beard had grown to enormous lengths. This event sealed the story that Kukai had not died but was in "eternal meditation." The mausoleum was closed again and, supposedly, no one has been inside it for over 1000 years. 

Mark and I made a return trip the following day to see it in the daylight. There are over 200,000 grave and memorial markers in the cemetery that date back for at least a millennium. As we walked through it on the central pathway, we really did feel a tangible sense of reverence. It is considered the most sacred place in Japan not only because of Kukai's mausoleum, but also because the ashes of so many are interred here amongst towering cedars, some of which are reputed to be almost one thousand years old.

Ubiquitous throughout the cemetery are stone stupas or pagodas, representing the five elements. There are literally thousands of them, if not tens of thousands.

There are all kinds of legends associated with various places in the cemetery. Next to a shrine of a "sweating Jizo" (which 'sweats' with the weight of the sins he takes upon himself) is a well. The legend is that if you can clearly see your reflection, you will live a long life. Mark looked down and saw his image clearly (as did I).

If you look very carefully, you can see the reflection of Mark's face toward the bottom right of the water.

There is a small stream that flows about 100 yards in front of the lantern hall. The bridge across this stream is considered sacred, and by tradition, one crossing the bridge must either cleanse themselves by bathing in the stream or by ritualistically throwing water on one or more of a group of Jizu statues lined up alongside the stream. We saw many Japanese going to each statue, throwing water, bowing their heads and offering respect and prayer.

A group of monks making their way toward the sacred bridge from the lantern hall in the distance

Crossing the bridge

Koyasan: The Goma Fire Ritual and the Kannon

The Goma Fire Ritual is unique, so far as I am aware, to Shingon Buddhism in Japan, although a similar ceremony also apparently exists in Tibetan Buddhism. As I mentioned yesterday, both Shingon Buddhism in Japan and Tibetan Buddhism spring from the same source of esoteric Buddhism that was exported from India to China and then Tibet in the 6th and 7th centuries. In Tibet, it is apparently called the "Homa" fire ritual. Going even further back, the roots of the fire ceremony date back in India to Vedic times.

The temple where we are staying (Ekoin) offers a Goma ceremony daily at 7:00 a.m. in a special small temple in the corner of the temple grounds. Guests are invited to witness the event; photos are permitted as long as flash photography is not used.

Guests are seated on either side and behind the priest who sits in front of the fire

The handbook presented to Ekoin's guests offers the following explanation of the "Gomakito":

"The Goma (Homa) Ritual of consecrated fire is unique to Vajrayana (Tibetan) and Esoteric Buddhism and is perhaps also the most mystical and cognitively powerful. It stems from the Vedic Agnihotra Ritual and is performed by qualified priests and acharyas for the benefit of individuals, the state or all sentient beings in general. The consecrated fire is believed to have a powerful cleansing effect spiritually and psychologically. The ritual is performed for the purpose of destroying negative energies, detrimental thoughts and desires and for the making of secular requests and blessings."

As the priest sits in front of the fire, he has an array of bowls, tongs, and other ritual instruments in front of him. He uses tongs to stack small but carefully cut pieces of kindling. He uses long sticks with small cups at the end to place spices, seeds and other items on the fire, all of which are very symbolic. All the while, a monk is chanting in the corner while the priest mumbles words and whispers what one assumes are prayers and incantations.

The ritual, which lasts about a half-hour, builds in intensity. At one point, the monk in the corner begins striking a taiko (Japanese) drum in the corner. The monk is making all kinds of hand signs, I notice, as he goes through the ritual, each of which I am sure has an esoteric meaning.

He eventually gets to one part of the ceremony where he picks up many small pieces of kindling, each of which are carefully cut to approximately the same length and size. I later come to find out that there are 108 of these pieces of wood that are thrown on the fire, representing the Buddhist belief that there are 108 "attachments" in this world from which we need to free ourselves.

Meanwhile, the drumming continues, along with the chanting. The fire grows larger and larger, burning away both the wood and - symbolically - our impurities. The lead photo at the beginning of this post and the one just above capture a bit of the intensity of concentration of the priest. The picture below the size of the fire and some of the small 108 pieces of kindling.

It was a memorable experience.

The Kannon (Avolokitesvara)

In the process of doing research on the Goma fire ritual, I also ran across some information on the Kannon - a "thousand-armed" Buddha statue, of which we have seen many manifestations during our time here in Japan, such as the following one in a temple in Kamakura:

The most striking example that we have seen of Kannon statues was at the Sanjūsangen-dō Hall in Kyoto. The emperor had ordered a local daimyo to erect this hall/temple, which features a central Kannon flanked by 500 kannons on either side. Photographs were not allowed to be taken in the building, but I've found pictures on the Internet that others, ignoring the rule, have taken and posted.

Quoting from a couple of sites on the Internet:

"Esoteric Buddhism began in ancient India, was brought to China, and finally to Japan. In the Nara Period (7th-8th Centuries), statues of Kannon Bosatsu ["Bosatsu" being the Japanese word for Bodhisattva] (the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, one of the images used in Esoteric Buddhism) were worshipped in temples all over Japan. Also many practitioners went deep into the mountains to do spiritual training, as Esoteric Buddhist priests do. But Esoteric Buddhism as an organized religion did not begin till the Heian Period with two famous Esoteric priests named Kukai [the founder of Koyasan] and Saicho. These men left Japan in the early Heian Period to go to Tang Dynasty China. When they came back to Japan, they brought with them the religious system of Esoteric Buddhism."

"One prominent Buddhist story tells of Avalokiteśvara vowing never to rest until he had freed all sentient beings from samsara. Despite strenuous effort, he realizes that still many unhappy beings were yet to be saved. After struggling to comprehend the needs of so many, his head splits into eleven pieces. Amitabha Buddha, seeing his plight, gives him eleven heads with which to hear the cries of the suffering. Upon hearing these cries and comprehending them, Avalokiteśvara attempts to reach out to all those who needed aid, but found that his two arms shattered into pieces. Once more, Amitabha Buddha comes to his aid and invests him with a thousand arms with which to aid the suffering multitudes."

To confuse things even further, Kannon is also referred to as the goddess of mercy, i.e., she's a woman. In doing my reading, it appears that Kannon was earlier represented in male form, but eventually came to be represented more in female form. Once again, the whole subject quickly becomes bewildering - at least to me. But its nice to have a bit more understanding of what we have seen and are seeing.

Today is our last day in Koyasan. Tomorrow morning, we head back to Tokyo. The food here at the temple is strictly vegetarian, and, frankly, we are looking forward to having something a bit more substantial for breakfast in the morning.

Koyasan: Shingon Buddhism

Inside Ekoin's actual temple (Ekoin is where we are staying)

One of the things I have learned from this trip is that there are schools within schools within schools of Buddhism – and this is just in Japan. It becomes bewildering to try to distinguish between them all and understand what is going on, what the differences are and what they mean – even among Zen schools of Buddism. Eventually, I quit trying. 

What did become apparent fairly quickly, however, is that Japan modified the teachings of Buddha, as received primarily from China, in ways that made it a better fit for Japanese society, – not only in the 6th and 7th centuries, but also every century since then. One of the most obvious examples of that is Buddhism’s sync with Shintoism, i.e., Japan’s “natural” and “original” religion that continues up to this day. Most Japanese consider themselves practitioners of both Buddhism and Shinto. Most important events in a person’s life are marked by a visit to a Shinto shrine, whereas memorial services are universally held at Buddhist temples.

But Setsuko, our guide in Kyoto, made an interesting observation. She said that most people in Japan today are effectively secular, and one of the primary reasons why is because of how badly they were burned by the state religion of Shintoism and emperor worship that was instilled following the re-installation of the emperor in the 1870’s, culminating in the official state teaching that the emperor is/was a god. That is why so many Japanese were willing to sacrifice their lives during the Second World War, and they were devastated and disillusioned when Japan lost the war and Emperor Hirohito announced to the nation that he is not a god, but is in fact human.

Which brings me back to the place where we now are. The Buddhism practiced here, Shingon, is unlike any other to which we’ve been exposed since coming to Japan. It is an esoteric school of Buddhism that was brought to Japan from China. It is apparently similar to Tibetan Buddhism, though the whole subject – as indicated above - immediately becomes intensely complicated when one begins to learn about it. 

But a brief overview is necessary for what I am going to be blogging about over the next couple of days. To provide that, I’m simply going to quote from our temple’s information that it provides to its guests:

“Koyasan is home to an active monastic center founded twelve centuries ago by the priest Kukai (posthumously known as Kobo Daishi) for the study and practice of Esoteric Buddhism. 

“He sought to establish a monastery deep in the mountains, a retreat far from worldly distractions where Buddhist monks could practice their faith and pray for peace and the welfare of the people. As its mountainous name suggests, Koyasan is situated in a valley atop a highland (altitude 900 meters). It stretches 4km east-to-west and 2 km north-to-south, and the eight mountains surrounding it are often compared to the eight petals of a lotus flower. 

“Kobo Daishi (Kukai) was a renowned monk who established Shingon Buddhism during the Heian era. He entered into eternal meditation on March 21, 835 and is believed to be alive and continues to provide relief to those who ask for salvation. Kobo Daishi is also known as the father of Japanese culture. He is renowned for his talents as a teacher, engineer, inventor, poet, calligrapher.”

One of the things that Koyasan is most known for is its huge cemetery, Okunoin, the entrance of which is just down the road from where we are staying. A broad walkway extends two kilometers through a cedar forest to Kobo Daishi’s mausoleum, which is considered the holiest spot here. 

A picture taken in Okunoin (Internet)

Among the trees are over 200,000 gravestones and memorial pagodas for people ranging from important historical figures to ordinary people. The entire walkway is lined with lanterns, which were lit last night as we took a night tour of the cemetery with an English-speaking monk at our temple.

It is about that experience, and about the experience Mark and I had there this morning, that I will write about in my next post.

From Kyoto to Koyasan

We left Kyoto yesterday morning, ready for a few days of rest and contemplation. We enjoyed Kyoto, but we were a little exhausted of all the "seeing" of things. 

When we were arranging the itinerary of this trip back in May, Mark said that one of the things he wanted to do was go on a meditation retreat. So in Googling what might be available, we came upon Koyasan - a mountain community that is the headquarters of the Shingon sect of Buddhism, founded over 1000 years ago. There are dozens of working temples there, many of whom offer lodging as well as temple experiences for their guests. It sounded like a cool experience, so it was put on our list.

We are very glad we came here.

To travel here to Koyasan, we took a train to Osaka, then a subway across the city to another station where we boarded a train for Koyasan. This was yet another one of those aspects of our trip that I had been a little anxious about, i.e., purchasing tickets, making sure we made the connections, etc. But as has been the case all along, as result of a little advance planning, we had no problems at all.

The train ride was about 90 minutes, and the second half was spent climbing up through heavily forested, very hilly terrain. We went from being a little about sea level in Osaka to approximately 2800 feet here in the little mountain valley where Koyasan is located. Upon arriving at the train station at the "foot" of Mount Koya, we took a cable car up a very steep incline to a bus station at the top, then traveled 15 minutes or so by bus to reach our destination.

Entrance to Ekoin Temple, our home for the next few days

The head priest here, to whom I think the temple actually belongs (since many temples in Japan are passed down from father to son), speaks excellent English. He took us to our room, which is typical Japanese style, and a bit bigger than our room in Kyoto - which had only six tatami mats, whereas this one has eight. We also have a little "porch" off our room where we can sit in chairs and gaze out at the lush garden outside of our room.

In the above picture, Mark is tracing a famous teaching of Buddha called the Heart Sutra. The characters are Chinese, and we are given a calligraphic pen to trace the characters. Mark finished his in less than two hours. I haven't had the guts to tackle mine yet after the trauma of the other night's calligraphy lesson.

The meditation hall as seen through the trees from our porch

The mail hall leading from the front office toward our room

After resting in our room for a while, we went out for a walk before heading to the meditation hall at 4:30 for a meditation session/lecture about the Shingon method of meditation, called Ajikan. It was quite the setting - a long hall with sliding doors on each side that were opened to let the air in as well as the beautiful wooded scenery. 

The explanation of the meditation was interesting, and I have to say that it was inspirational to listen to the head priest explain the purpose and method of meditation. For example, he compared thoughts that crop up in meditation to one leaf that falls in a forest. We simply let it drop, instead of focusing on it and letting it distract us. He also suggested a different method of breathing, both in and out through the nose, whereas other methods to which I have been exposed call for breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. And finally, he suggested counting to ten over and over in one's mind instead of trying to count as far as we could. That method, he explained, leads to attaching to how long we can meditate rather than allowing us to focus on things that matter.

Dinner was brought into our room shortly after the session. Rather than have a central dining hall, monks bring the meals - dinner and breakfast (which are included with the cost of the room) - to each guest room, whereupon the stackable trays are set out, as pictured below.

After dinner, we went on a nighttime tour of the famous cemetery here in Koyasan, but I'll write about that later.

It's amazingly beautiful, calm, peaceful and quiet here. We love it.