May 17th, 2019
Kiso-Fukushima -> Matsumoto
Imagine watching an epic sport-ball match without an intermission. The athletes, in their prime physical embodiments, would start the game with fire and force. Ten minutes in, they would be looking to Coach on the sidelines: Could I get a sub out here? But that goes against the intermission-less rules, and so they press on and on and on. Players slow down, shadows of the performance they entered the field with. Some even sit down, looking at the nonsensical scoreboard thinking: Maybe more isn’t always better?
Silly? Yes. Absurd? Probably. Can we do better than this? Most definitely. Rest makes us stronger for whatever we face next - whether it’s burnout at home, on the road, or on the sport-ball pitch.
Travel can be a lot - a lot of work, a lot of experience, a lot of doing! It easily lends itself to go, go, go - every moment filled with more, more, more. I’ve learned the hard way what it’s like to get saturated. For all the work it takes to get to distant places like this town of Kiso-Fukushima, I know that it’s wise to slow down and appreciate it when I’m actually here rather than be perpetually focused on the next destination.
At least that’s the philosophy I’m working on.
I’m sitting on a wooden bench in the Kozen-ji temple complex, taking time to smell the flowers - both literally and figuratively. A blooming lattice of white wisteria hangs above me, suffusing the sunlight to a comfortable glow. The largest sand garden in all of Asia sits in front of me, freshly raked with this morning’s rising sun. And, if that wasn’t enough, behind me is the most immaculate wall of tended greenery I’ve ever beheld.
It has been two hours and I’ve had the gardens entirely to myself - well, me and the bumblebees. Is this normal? Gawds, I wish this could be normal.
This is the first practicing temple I’ve visited on this trip. It stands in stark contrast to the ones I dipped into in Tokyo - and promptly dipped out of. Perhaps it was all the selfie sticks and influencers marauding for the best camera angles, but they felt like museums, replicas of the original thing. The vibe was more Disneyland than a sanctuary of contemplation. Zen is about deep appreciation and, if I can’t join the monks to sit zazen today, I can at least embody the practice by quietly appreciating their gardens.
I am following the breadcrumbs. Eihei Dogen (1200-1253), the founder of Soto Zen, is the beginning of the lineage of my teacher’s teachers. He was adamant on the idea that anyone can practice (not just the rich and privileged). Incense, charms, status, and power…none of it is necessary to waking up. What’s most important is that we live the practice.
I’ve been reading the journals of Peter Matthiessen, who made a similar pilgrimage route to mine alongside Bernie Glassman (the late abbot of New York City’s Zen Centre) back in 70s. They not only have influenced my journey in Japan, they’ve been influencing my sense of being since before I stepped on the plane to come here.
Roshi Glassman says:
The one way to be truly universal is to be very particular, moment by moment, detail by detail. If you are merely ‘universal,’ you lose the feel of life, you become abstract, facile…But if the emphasis on everyday detail is too rigid, our existence loses the religious power of the universal.
You attend to your sitting practice. You attend to your garden. You attend to these little things intensely, so that you build strength in honing your attention. Then - and this is the point - you step out into the world and all of your relationships, bringing this attention and care to all aspects, no matter how trivial or mundane or earthly. This is practice embodied - a way to enter your life, instead of leaving the world behind as you suspend in some abstract levitation / enlightenment.
At least that’s the philosophy I’m working on. As Bernie also likes to say: But hey, that’s just my opinion, man.
Indeed, you do have to eventually leave the monastery. And I do. It’s time to hop on a train for a brief intermission from hiking the trail.
Welcome to Matsumoto! Today’s ryokan is all about the WIFI! This is a highlight, because otherwise it’s pretty run down and filled with a plethora of characters I can hear through the paper thin walls. There’s Stompy McStomperson killing bugs upstairs, Tele McTeleviseur who just can’t miss any of his daily soap operas to my left, and Phony McPhonerson closing what sounds like a big deal to my right. And, completing this chorus, a percussion of banging doors across the hall.
Functional but not much more, this ryokan feels like the Japanese version of an American motel. So, after pulling in my email, it’s out into the streets I go.
First stop: a wooden castle. Second: ramen. Third: attempting sleep at Ryokan Noisy. Wish me luck.
A haiku:
Step by weary step
The ground rises to meet you
Always supportive
D