Bamboo and bento

Screens and gourd drum at Shunko-in

Screens and gourd drum at Shunko-in

Today was our last day at the temple complex of Myōshin-ji.  Last night there was a festival at the temple where the bell that hangs outside the Taylor Hall classroom I am teaching in this semester once hung.  We rang the bell before left on this trip, and many of the students went to the festival.

We did another round of meditation training this morning with the vice-abbot, Taka Kawakami, learning a bit more about how he sees the connections between psychology

Tea at Shunko-in

Tea at Shunko-in

(including MBSR, which the psychology class has been reading about) and traditional Buddhist meditation training.  We toured the temple’s gardens, and other spaces, encouraged to experience the spaces as they were designed to be enjoyed, by sitting on the floor in the rooms with only ambient light.  The gold screens are warmer in this light, and the garden becomes a carefully framed composition from this vantage point.

On the trolley in Kyoto

On the trolley in Kyoto

After the tour and meditation we enjoyed green tea and sweet rice cookies, and headed back one last time toward Tenryu-ji by trolley, this time to see the bamboo forest at Arayamashima. There is a small shrine there, which features in The Tale of Genji, and where students come to seek success in academic endeavors.

The forest itself has an amazing sound scape, particularly when it is windy as it was in Kyoto this morning.  There is the characteristic sound of the wind through the leaves, but also the sound of the trunks clacking against each other. The swaying motion of the trees is hypnotic, particularly from the top of the trail.

Bamboo forest at Arashiyama

Bamboo forest at Arashiyama

We took the trolley back to Myōshin-ji and picked up bentos to eat on the bus to Kumano.  It was a five hour trip through the mountains southeast of Kyoto, and we were glad of the bentos and the well packed snack bag carefully toted to the bus by the Snacks Mistress (chocolate and hard candies a hit, the salty rice crackers, not so much).  The view of the ocean on the far side was stunning, islands that seemed to float just above the water dotting the bay, then we wound our way back into the mountains.

Tomorrow the day starts with a visit to a Shugendo temple, a couple of hours of hiking and a conversation with Tateishi Kosho, then a three hour drive to Mount Koya.

Sitting zazen

Meditation instruction at Shunko-in

Meditation instruction at Shunko-in

The weather, which has been hot and humid seems to have turned, it’s cool and breezy this morning as I sit outside to write.  We are staying at Shunko-in, in the temple complex at Myōshin-ji.  Instruction is in English here, we had a short session yesterday, and will have a longer one this morning.

From Myōshin-ji, we went to Tenryu-ji – Temple of the Heavenly Dragon – a 14th century temple founded by Ashikaga Takauji, who also founded the Moss Temple (Saihō-ji) which we visited later in the day.  Tenryu-ji has a famous garden as well.

Thomas Kirchener

Thomas Kirchener

At Tenryu-ji we spoke with Thomas Yuho Kirchener, a Zen monk – an American who came to Japan many years ago.  He told us a bit about daily life as a monk, what in the Western Christian monastic tradition might be called the ordo.  The life at a Zen monastery moves between intense training periods and less intense periods, where the monks might travel from monastery to monastery.  The balance of this life reminded me of one of the Desert Fathers we read in my class, Abba Anthony the Great, criticized for allowing his monks to take time away from meditation, “If we stretch the brethren beyond measure they will soon break. Sometimes it is necessary to come down to meet their needs.”


Kaisaku – the stick of compassion

We discussed postures for meditation, finding a way to be balanced and comfortable for long periods.  Kirchener demonstrated the use of the keisaku, the stick of compassion. Two swift slaps of the stick on each shoulder blade can ease the tension in your back. While we sat for 30 minutes, he patrolled the zendo.  If you wanted relief, you put your hands up in gasho, then bowed together over the stick.  Bow in gratitude when you are done.

Inscribing a shuoin book at Kiyumizudera

Inscribing a shuoin book at Kiyumizudera

Entrance to the Moss Temple is restricted, we wrote months before we left to secure a spot this afternoon.  And you can’t be late. We made it from Tenryu-ji to the temple with a few minutes to spare.  Several students left their shuoin books to be stamped and inscribed as a record of their visit to this temple. The Moss Temple has a particularly beautiful stamp and inscription.  We began our visit by listening to the heart sutra chanted and then inking our own copies.  Then we walked the gardens, where the moss deadens the sound of voices and footfalls.  The garden itself is a treasure, you have the sense of walking through a miniature world.

We ended the day by returning to Tenryu-ji to walk the garden there.  It was nearly closing, the light was gorgeous and the gardens almost empty.  A wonderfully restful way to end the day.


Borrowed landscapes


Students at Ryoan-ji

Our day began early again, at 5:30 am for those who walked up to Chion-in for the morning services.  We packed up, put our luggage on the bus and headed to Ryoan-ji, perhaps the most iconic of the karesansui, the dry Japanese Zen gardens.

These dry gardens were often constructed for night meditations in front of the abbot’s quarters, the purpose of the white stones is to reflect moonlight.  The garden at Ryoan-ji in the bright sunshine and heat of a Kyoto autumn day is a bit of a different space than at night, I suspect.  And the rich mix of tourists, from Japanese school children here on field trips to couples with tour guides, and us, makes it far less still and silent than it would be “in use.”


Practicing English and Japanese

The school children on field trips to these places have assignments from their English teachers to practice their English, generally with some prompts for questions to ask:  Where are you from?  Why are you here?  What is most important to you?  Our students enjoyed practicing their Japanese in return.  They got more practice in reading Japanese as they tried to negotiate the vending machines to find something cool to drink.

Will we get something cold to drink that we will enjoy?

Will we get something cold to drink that we will enjoy?

Daitoko-ji is a complex of Rinzai Zen monasteries on the edge of Kyoto.  We visited two of the cloisters within the monastery:  Daisen-in and Zuiho-in.  Both have beautiful dry gardens, though on some level these are less abstract than the one at Ryoan-ji.  You aren’t allowed to photograph the gardens at Daisen-in, so I had to stick to postcards. The garden wraps around the dojo, a stream that eventually opens into a garden that is just groomed white rocks, with two cones, the better to reflect the moonlight in the garden.

The main garden at Zuiho-in

The main garden at Zuiho-in

From there we went to Zuiho-in, which has to my mind the most beautiful of all the dry gardens I have seen.  The large garden is meant to represent a heavy sea with the sand all piled up to represent high waves.  It’s focussing on one level, despite the clear chaos you can sense underlying the stillness.  It reminds me of Marty Laird’s comment in Into the Silent Land that contemplation isn’t “snorting lines of euphoric peace” but a particular way of sitting with chaos.

Images of Japan

A gallery of images from the trip so far.

Mizu, Yuzu and Mitsu


The temple at Kiyumizudera.


Reaching out to get some water to drink at the Kiyumizudera.

We got up a bit after  5:00 am, to walk up to Choin-in up the hill from where we are staying for morning services.  It was a rich sound scape, the thunk as we kept the beat for the procession on gourds, the chant, the bells, the sharp clack-clack of the wood blocks, the chirping of the nightingale floor as we moved from one space to another, the ravens cawing in the pre-dawn stillness — and the roar of the motorcycle patrolling the grounds. IMG_0985



IMG_0973We had a beautiful breakfast at the temple where we are staying.  Little dishes of salty and savory tastes, miso soup and rice.  And of course, tea.

From there we went to Kiyumizudera, a temple built next to a beautiful spring and with an amazing view of Kyoto.  The streets are crowded with tourists and students, and lots of little shops.  It was hot, so the water (mizu) was incredibly refreshing and the sample of cold yuzu honey (yuzu mitsu) drink was amazing.  We practiced the ritual of washing your hands and rinsing your mouth at various spots.  In my course we have been discussing the body and prayer/meditation.  What are the connections between mind and body and the transcendent in different traditions?  How do we mark boundaries between dedicated contemplative time and daily life?

We walked through Tainaimeguri – pilgrimage through the womb, a short descent beneath a hall in complete darkness.  We’ve talked about James Turrell’s work in my class, about the ways in which light and darkness can be manipulated to change the texture – the set and setting – of a contemplation.

We then went to Honen-in, where we walked through a beautiful moss garden, with many water features and a much quieter spot than Kiyumizudera.

From there we walked up to Ginkakuji, the Silver Pavilion.  We walked up and above the temple precincts, looking down on the gardens below.  Each view elicits a different reaction.




leaf flower water

Water flowing over a carefully aligned leaf at Honen-in

dragon water

Dragon water spout at Kiyumizudera

van water

Van cleanses her hands at the shrine near Kiyumizudera.


Dawn departures

944577_664366267614_236631823_nWe gathered at Pembroke Arch at 3:45 in the morning.  I watched as groups of students materialized out of the mist, carrying just a single bag.  We had 24 hours of travel in front of us, two bus rides, two plane rides.

We are now tucked away just below Chion-in in Kyoto. Dinner was at a small Japanese place, leave your shoes at the door, sit on a cushion on the tatami.  Then it was a quick walk back, and a chance to try a Japanese bath.  Now we are all looking forward to sleeping horizontally, and (at least some of us) then getting up at dawn again to walk up for a morning ceremony on the temple up the hill.  Konbawa!

Defining silence

wernersvilleWhat does it mean to be mindful, and can we measure it? In Psychology of Mindfulness, we took the Five Facet Mindfulness Questionnaire (FFMQ – an online version can be found here) this week.  The five facets are: observing, describing, non-judging of one’s inner experiences, non-reactivity, and awareness.

Along the same lines in the class on contemplation in the West, we are considering what constitutes elected silence.  Is silence a necessary pre-condition for contemplation?  We have been reading the 4th desert fathers and mothers, including Abba Moses who tells a supplicant “sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything;” while Amma Syncletica suggests exterior location isn’t the issue, but the interior landscape is: “It is possible to be a solitary in one’s mind while living in a crowd; and it is possible for those who are solitaries to live in the crowd of their own thoughts.”

We are off to mindfully explore silence at the Jesuit Center, a retreat center located about 60 miles northwest of Bryn Mawr, on the grounds of an old Jesuit novitiate. We will spend parts of each day in silence, seeing if we can grasp what is so alluring about silence that for centuries people have left everything behind to seek it.  When we return, we will be reading some narratives of silence.

Poetics of space

Poetic space 2 Poetic spaceThis week in the course on contemplation in the Western tradition we are reading excerpts from Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics of Space.  What is the connection between the spaces we inhabit and our minds? our souls?  How can we read what a space has to tell us? Do spaces have memories? Subtexts? Bachelard is developing a frame for thinking about  such questions.

Class moved outside, testing the ways in which the space shaped our conversation.  This outdoor space was bounded subtly by rugs and chairs, no hard edges.

Later this week, we are off to read a quite different space, a silent monastic experience.

Always we begin again

It seems like just yesterday I was shelving the books I’d used for this course and moving the pointers to the folders off my favorites list on my computer.  The monastic rule of St. Benedict suggests that we are always beginning again. Another day, another round of psalms, another academic year.

As part of Bryn Mawr’s 360 program I’m once again teaching a course on the history of contemplation and mindfulness in the Western tradition in collaboration with two colleagues, Marc Schulz in psychology and Hank Glassman (from Haverford).  The three courses each have their own structure, but intertwine through shared readings and shared experiences, including field trips to a silent retreat house, Buddhist monasteries in Japan and MBSR (mindfulness based stress reduction) training.