Mt.Koya and the Beauty of Shingon Meditation

Posted on October 4, 2016 by antem

Our last night in Koyasan, I couldn’t help but to think about all the thoughts and details that are centered around such a small yet powerful and intimate space. We got to learn about Kongōbu-ji Temple and learn about Kobo Daishi spreading his learning and teachings of Shingoin Buddhism to Japan and being granted the opportunity to build a space that is on the mountain, Mt. Koya, that is sacred and essential to the peace and upbringings of various modes of support and faith in religious and spiritual paths among the community members. Imagery seems to be a powerful message in the stories to tell, and nature has been a powerful tool in conveying the essence and symbolism of Mt. Koya. Being able to reflect on how much I appreciate the space, my peers and I were granted the opportunity, on the first night, to witness monks passionately chanting the sutras on their last day of their ceremony. We were also given the space and opportunity to practice Shingon meditation as we learned from Professor Glassman’s colleague, who is a monk, that meditation is all about acceptance. Being able to realize the thoughts running through one’s mind and capturing one of these thoughts and observing that thought for what it is and not judging it. As beautifully mentioned, we learn more about ourselves and we deal with things much better when we learn not to suppress it, but to acknowledge and accept it, that is when we can overcome it.

Kongōbu-ji Temple-Headquarters

Selfie with Jenny after Shingon meditation

One of the monks who practices Koyasan’s Shingon Buddhism

The Zen of Sitting

Posted on October 3, 2016 by Michelle Francl

Students waiting for meditation session at Shunko-in in Kyoto.

We walked as pilgrims on the Kumano Kodo on our way into Kyoto, and trekked from Myoshin-ji to Kyoto through to Osaka, changing stations there, and are now at last on the train to Mount Koya, a Buddhist enclave up in the mountains. Pilgrims again, everything we own on our backs, trying not to lose the trail, threading our way through the commuter rush instead of through the cedar forests.

Rev. Taka Kawakami, vice abbot of Shunko-in give students a tour of the temple

In Kyoto we walked a lot, but we came here to learn to sit, to practice zazen. We stayed at the Shunko-in temple in the large complex on the outskirts of Kyoto, Myoshin-ji. On Saturday morning, we did a meditation training session in English with the vice abbot of the temple, Rev, Taka Kawakami. He talked about flexibility as a state of mind, reflected in the body. Stiff when you get up off the meditation cushion? It’s ok to sit in a chair. Be flexible. He spoke a bit about the intersection between neuroscience, psychology and Buddhist practice – perfect for this 360 which sits at that intersection point as well. There was a fun moment of connection when he referred to a longitudinal study, The Harvard Study of Adult Development, on which Marc Schulz is a co-investigator (and has a new paper out this week!) and one of the 360 students is using data from for her thesis.

From Shunko-in we went to Tenryu-ji, a 14th century Zen training monastery set in a historic garden (now a UNESCO world heritage site). There we met with Thomas Yuho Kirchner, an American and Zen monk who entered Shofuko-ji monastery in 1971. He gave us an introduction to the monastic schedule, and the training young monks would be given. We practiced zazen, sitting meditation, in the hall where the monks in training would practice, eat and sleep, wrapped in thick square futons.

Zen monk Thomas Yuho Kirchner with kaiseku

Attention could drift during long meditation sessions, and so the kaisaku was employed, a flat stick whacked across the shoulder blades, sometimes called the stick of compassion. Thomas Kirchner demonstrated its use on me. You bow to each other, then cross your arms and round your back for two quick slaps on each shoulder. It stings, sharpening your senses and much like a deep massage, refreshes. In my course we’ll talk a bit about the relationship between pain and contemplative practice. It’s a fascinating topic, criss-crossing psychology and spirituality.

Students sitting on the veranda overlooking the abbot’s garden at Zuiho-in

On Sunday we visited another large temple complex, Daitoku-ji, to tour Daisin-in and do a last meditation training before heading to Kyosan. The iconic Zen dry rock gardens, and nightingale floors – which squeak as you walk on them, were highlights of this temple. We also toured Zuiho-in, which I think might have my favorite rock garden, one with deep standing waves.

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A bit about Prof. Schulz’ paper: http://campaign.r20.constantcontact.com/render?m=1102398051702&ca=1a06f66e-a651-4127-bdf3-a5a2b4ab01ed

Hot Spots

Posted on September 30, 2016 by Michelle Francl

Tateishi Kosho

Hot. The weather has been hot and very humid, which made yesterday’s hike with Buddhist priest and mountain ascetic Tateishi Kōshō tough at times. There were periodic deluges of rain, so much so that our planned hike up the mountain to a waterfall was too dangerous to take. We crisscrossed the lower mountain, walking a bit on the Kumano Kodo, a world heritage pilgrimage trail (akin to the Camino del Santiago in Spain, in fact the city where we got off the train Tanabe, is a gateway city to the Kumano Kodo and a sister city to Santiago). By the time we arrived at Kōshō’s hall, we were drenched. Rain and sweat.

We were greeted with towels to clean up with, and a hot pot lunch. Dumplings, noodles, vegetables all cooking in a salty broth, just right to replenish all those electrolytes we had lost in the morning’s hike. A bedraggled band on arrival, I watch fluids and a place to sit restore us all.
As lunch came to a close, Kōshō handed us gomagi, wooden slats with the seed character for Fudō-Myōō, the image in Kōshō’s hall, on one side. We wrote our names and ages on one side (now we know I’m the oldest on the trip!), and a desire on the other side. These would be burned in the goma, or fire ceremony, taking our prayerful desires up with them

In my class we’ve been talking about “spiritual technologies” – or the ways in which material objects, such as incense or bells, as well as bodily postures, such as bowing or walking, are often part of a meditative practice. From the familiar postures of meditators sitting on cushions to the Christian rosary beads, to the use of bells and chant, many traditions make use of material items or embodied practices to facilitate meditation. Kōshō’s fire ceremony let us see how a rich set of materials and practices could be employed: we rubbed incense on our hands, Kōshō used a big ringing bowl as well as blowing a ceremonial conch shell, the heart sutra was chanted ten times. In some ways, it reminded me of James Turrell’s “Light Reignfall” which I saw at LACMA two years ago and on which we saw a short film in class.

We are staying at an onsen, a traditional Japanese hot spring, which welcomes pilgrims on the Kumano Kodo. While there were the usual Japanese communal baths, both indoor and outdoor, Japan’s geology provided a more unusual opportunity. The bed of the river which ran past the inn was percolated with small volcanic hot springs. Dig into the gravel at the river’s edge, looking for hot spots and make your own hot bath. When it gets too hot, dip into the cool pools of the river. It felt quasi-baptismal after the day’s steep hikes.

The rain had caused the river to rise, but not so much we couldn’t find some hot spots at the edge and the students (with some help from the faculty) built a river bath, stacking stones to make an artificial pool where the hot water filters up and is trapped. It smells faintly of sulfur, adding to the sensory experience. The Bryn Mawr “hot spot” was still there this morning, and several students took advantage and went out for a quiet early morning river meditation. Me, too.

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On the way out to the onsen up the river from Tanabe, we stopped at a shrine, Kumano Hongu taisha, viewed by some modern Japanese as a spiritual power spot, pawaa supotto. Another sort of hot spot.

Read more about Fudo-Myoo here (http://www.penn.museum/blog/collection/125th-anniversary-object-of-the-day/statue-of-fudo-object-of-the-day-44/)

Watch a short piece on Turrell’s “Light Reignfall” (https://vimeo.com/75419053)

Reading silence in the city

Posted on September 27, 2016 by Michelle Francl

[Posted for Nazifa Tabassum]

The Ueno Park in Tokyo is a fascinating place. On one end is the Ueno zoo: a place filled with bright colors and joyful schoolchildren, who are amazed by the beauty and diversity of the animal kingdom . On the other end there are also seekers of beauty, but of a different kind. Littering the various shrines and temples are adults – office-goers, homemakers, senior citizens and tourists alike – who are looking for a quiet space to reconnect spiritually with nature, God or both.

This morning I found myself in one such place. Benten hall is situated in the middle of a pond filled with large, green water plants. The greenery formed a comfortable buffer, protecting the space from the hectic city life and providing people with a serene perspective of one of the busiest cities in the world. From what I gathered Benten Hall or Benten-do is a Buddhist temple dedicated to Benzaiten, goddess of fortune, music and wisdom (Wikipedia), which explained the temple’s popularity. However, I was more interested in the little sitting area on the side of the temple overlooking the surrounding pond. There were several people sitting there but it appeared to be a silent space. Some read, some listened to music and some just took in the view. One man had brought breadcrumbs with himself and spent hours feeding the pigeons in the park. A bunch of strangers sitting together in silence might appear strange to some (the trope of mysterious-silent-stranger-who’s-up-to-no-good coming into play here ) but the silence that was shared at the sitting spot was comfortable, even welcoming.

Thus I sat on a bench near the water, listening to the silence around me, the gentle lapping of water playing as a soft background music. My breaths became deeper and my mind emptied of all the anxiety-inducing plans I had of exploring all of Tokyo in one day. For a brief period of time, I just paid attention to the moment: the feeling of the breeze on my skin, the changing colors of the sky, the soft cooing of the pigeon roaming around me.
When I left the temple, I certainly felt very fortunate to have experienced that brief, unexpected moment of mindfulness in the little oasis of Benten-do.

Go and come back

Posted on September 24, 2016 by Michelle Francl

Photo credit: Prof. Victor Donnay

At 6:45 this morning, my colleague Marc Schulz and I arrived at Pembroke Arch to find all fifteen of our 360 students gathered, packed lightly for two weeks on the road. It’s not our first trip this semester, early this month we spent two night at the Jesuit Center outside Reading, Pennsylvania, trying out silence, so we’re already a practiced traveling band. Now we’re headed out for a longer experience, 15 days on the road, traveling to contemplative sites in Japan.

“Carry-on!” and “Hand wash!” were our motto, after four weeks of reading about simplicity in my course, we’re trying it out in the field. What comforts are you willing to leave behind if you’re going to live on top of a pillar as the desert ascetics did, or, in our case, fly at 34,000 feet and be pilgrims when we arrive?

Marc Schulz is teaching the course on the Psychology of Mindfulness in this cluster. He noted that as we rushed through the terminal this morning the irony of not being able to stop long enough to look in the meditation room.

In my course, we’ve been talking about built space and how it might not only provide the conditions for meditation, but perhaps induce meditative states, as artist James Turrell hopes his installations might. So now we’re off to the field to experience spaces purpose-built for meditation, and places that foster meditation alongside daily life.

We begin in Tokyo, and will visit temples in Kyoto, Koya and on Tokushima, an island in the Sea of Japan. We’ll walk parts of the 88-temple Shikuko pilgrimage trail (a UNESCO heritage trail, like the Camino del Santiago in Spain.) We’ll talk about meditation and practice zazen with Buddhist abbots and monks, and visit communities that privilege simplicity of life.

One of the Augustinian friars from the community that lives down the road from the college, who lived for many years in Japan, wished me a good trip yesterday after Lauds. “Itte irasshai!” Go and come back. And so we’re off, to go and come back, to see and to experience.

I’ll be writing about the trip as we go, and if you want to follow our adventures in real time watch for #Japan360bmc and #BMC360 on Twitter and Instagram.
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Bound in

Posted on October 17, 2013 by Michelle Francl

Nakamura’s house above Kamikatsu

[Wednesday in Kamikatsu]

The weather is off and on rain today, as a typhoon blows itself out south of us. There isn’t much wind and the rain is more of a nuisance, increasing the humidity, rather than a difficulty. We drove back up to Nakamura’s this morning, the bundles of rice left to dry in the paddies looking forlorn in the damp, the persimmons virtually aglow on the trees. Our covers need to be cut and sewn onto our carefully folded signatures (the folded sheafs of paper that make up the pages of the book). The templates are cut for either a Japanese style book (opening left to right) or Western styles – we need to decide before we select the front cover.

Students bind books

The rhythm of measuring, marking, cutting and folding requires a focussed attention to detail, the making of art for many artists is a mindful, if not fully meditative, activity. I find that the mix of physicality and math (geometry) gathers up the strands of my attention and holds them loosely enough to not feel constrained, but tightly enough to keep my attention from wandering.

Kayla stitches the binding of her book

The act of making an everyday object, something that I have so many of in particular, makes me aware of how much I depend on the work of others to sustain my life. Would I still stack books on the floor with abandon if I had bound each by hand? if I knew they’d been bound by hand?

Nakamura-san talks with students about his art work

The students had time this damp afternoon to talk to Nakamura about his life, how does he sustain himself, why did he choose this quiet and simple life. Nakamura told them he finds joy in the creating, it is the process he cherishes, more so than the product. Hence, while he freely shares his art, he doesn’t sell it. Before he retired, he worked a few months a year to pay for his necessities, now, at 67, he is receives the Japanese equivalent of social security. He points out that while he lives alone, he is bound into his community in many ways (health care and social security, the radio broadcasts that alert him to bad weather, the bus he takes to Tokushima, the care of his neighbors).

They wondered if he had regrets about his choices and he said that there are always regrets in life, but he would rather regret the things he had done, then the things he hadn’t done. (Which Prof. Schulz pointed out is in line with psychological research on regret!) Students wondered how much contact he had with other people and he told them about his occasional (once or twice a year) trips to the small port city down the river, his letters to and from family, a weekly walk to the onsen (the hot spring baths about a 40 minute walk down the hill).

360 students with Nakamura-san

We finished off the day with a wonderful hot pot dinner, vegetables, noodles, and thin slices of meat to cook in soy milk. A challenge to some of our skills with chopsticks (I will admit to having lost control of a pile of noodles between the pot and my dish), but fun and delicious to eat.

Spaces in translation

Posted on October 11, 2013 by Michelle Francl

Japanese dance troupe performs at Kamikatsu.

[Ed: This post was written on Monday evening, translated forward in time!]

Mathematically, a translation takes a set of points and moves them without rotation or distorting their spatial relationships. Today we translated from Koyasan to Kamikatsu, taking five different means of transportation (taxis, funicular, five trains, ferry and a bus )and almost ten hours. We seem to have arrived at the other end with a minimum of distortion.

We took our leave from the temple just before 10 am, waving a formal good-bye to the head priest’s mother who came to see us off. We piled into taxis to the mountaintop station where we rode a funicular to the bottom and dove into Japan’s rail system. We counted off 1 to 15 to make sure we hadn’t lost anyone between changes of trains from Hashimoto to Wakayama to Wakayamashi to Wakayamako. The weather was hot and humid, cold drinks at Hashimoto were welcome, as was the chance to explore the department store food court at Wakayama station for snacks. (The dumplings were great.)

Riding the funicular down from Koyasan

The two hour ferry ride from Honshu (Japan’s largest island) to Shikoku (an island bordering the Japan’s Inland Sea) offered a chance to get a sense of the geography of Japan, and see some gorgeous views of the sunset over the water.

The bus wound its way up the Asahi-gawa River to Kamikatsu, where both dinner and a performance by a local traditional Japanese dance group awaited us. The river is rushing by out the window, the baths are hot, there is a washing machine and we are looking forward to visiting with Nakamura-san tomorrow.

Bamboo and bento

Posted on October 3, 2013 by Michelle Francl

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

(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

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

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.

Mizu, Yuzu and Mitsu

Posted on September 30, 2013 by Michelle Francl

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.

Breakfast!

We 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.

Water flowing over a carefully aligned leaf at Honen-in

Dragon water spout at Kiyumizudera

Van cleanses her hands at the shrine near Kiyumizudera.

A different kind of luxury

Posted on October 6, 2011 by Michelle Francl

The morning dawned clear and warm and after breakfast we headed up to visit Nakamura-san, an artist who lives a deliberately simple life up the mountain from Kamikatsu proper. The bus driver was a champion, the road is narrow and winding and there were a couple of spots where it was more than a tight fit to get us around a curve or across a bridge. (The fit was so tight that tomorrow we will walk the last bit — at the driver’s reqest!)

We had brought Nakamura a gift, a piece of stained glass we had commissioned from an artist (Wayne Stratz) in Pennsylvania. Wayne designed the piece at Wernersville, where we had done our first experiment in silence, riffing off of pictures I had taken when Hank, Marc and I visited in June. The result was a tea pot in glass, evoking the mud hearth and cast iron pot with which Nakamura had made us tea on that visit. The style of Wayne’s piece is very similar to the style of some of Nakamura’s work. Later in the afternoon Nakamura showed the students some of the ways in which he creates these stained glass like pencil drawings, and helped the students create some of their own.

The main activities of the day were to begin making bound journals, using traditional Japanese binding techniques. Nakamura showed us how to bind cloth (prints in patterns traditionally used by Nepalese women for their underblouses) to paper, so that it would be easier to handle, and then how to bind the equivalent of the folios to which we will attach the covers tomorrow. For some students this was the first time they had threaded a needle.

We also helped make lunch. Atsko Watanabe, a member of Kamikatsu’s town council and a friend of Hank’s and Nakamura’s had brought the makings of lunch (vegetable soup, tofu, bread and fruit) up with her. When she asked for help with lunch, the first thing she needed was someone to get the fire started in the mud hearth. With a little help from Nakamura and Atsko, two students managed to get a good fire going and water heated to make a wonderful vegetable soup. We ate in shifts of 5, as that was the number of bowls and chopsticks we had — no disposable plates and bowls. (Kamikatsu strives for zero waste, and comes pretty close.)

Despite the simplicity of Nakamura’s life, it seems deeply luxurious as well. At what point do we have so much stuff that we can no longer manage it? Several of us had hermitage envy and I confessed to Nakamura-san that I was eyeing the hollow across the valley, which seemed to me a perfect spot in which to nestle a small house.

We finished the day with a short visit to the Zero Waste Academy, Kamikatsu’s project to limit the amount of trash they produce. There are 36 different waste streams (plastic bottles and their plastic caps are two different streams), and a room where you can pick up goods for free (some students will be coming home with beautiful tea cups that someone else no longer needed).

It was an extended meditation on what goes into making the heat to make lunch, rather than just turning on a burner; what goes into making a blank book in which to keep your notes; what happens to what we put into the trash here (every yogurt container will have to be washed, the orange juice cartons broken down, washed and folded just so).

Contemplative Traditions

Exploring contemplative practice, meditation and mindfulness

Tag Archives: Mindfulness