Author: John D. (Page 146 of 202)

Fuji: Seven Sacred Trails

March 31, 2013 / John D.

Pat Ormsby in her role as Shinto priestess

Green Shinto is very proud to present the following piece of original research by Shinto priestess Pat Ormsby. As is evident from the article, she is personally familiar with the ancient pilgrimage routes, which in modern times have fallen out of use. In the year when Mt Fuji comes up for World Heritage status, her work is of prime historical value.
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Reconnecting with the sacred paths of Mt. Fuji
by Patricia Ormsby

Mt. Fuji has been worshipped as a divine entity from as far back as anyone was keeping record, with pilgrimages undertaken to the summit in ancient times. These days paved roads can take you half way up the steep slopes, and the climb from there is more popular than ever, but the old pilgrimage routes around the base and up the lower slopes have been all but forgotten. There is not much of a view from the dense forests, and it takes real devotion to put in the long, hot climb required. The ancient routes are nonetheless notable.

The Yoshida Trail
According to the City of Fuji-Yoshida, “The original Yoshida Climbing Route starts from the Fuji Sengen Shrine, where the pilgrims of over 500 years ago came to pray before they started their climb up the sacred mountain. Today, traditionalists still claim that the only way to climb Mt. Fuji is from the Fuji Sengen Shrine.” (Ref 1)

This was the most easily accessed route from Edo, where the devotional Fuji confraternities (more on them later) were very popular during the Tokugawa rule. Since it is the route of a marathon to the summit each July, it is the best maintained of all the hiking trails below the 5th Station.

Signboard on the Fuji-Yoshida Trail below the First Station. Guides took pilgrims up the mountain at night, and they replenished the oil in their lamps at each station.

The Murayama Route
The Murayama Route is the oldest trail up Mt. Fuji, followed by the nearby Suyama Route. It was developed about 1000 years ago together with a temple complex in the village of Murayama, just south of the volcano, which became a lively center of ascetic Shugendo practice. The trail fell into disuse in 1903, but has been revived in recent years. (Ref.2)

Several years ago, I attempted to follow the Murayama Route, but got lost when it entered a summer home community which had well developed recreational paths heading off in all directions, obscuring the ancient route. Since then, however, more efforts to reestablish the trail have been made, and two years ago, accompanied by two Shugendo practitioners (ref. 3), I was able follow the entire route from the Murayama Sengen Shrine.

The route was well marked, with a few obstacles. At the 5th Station parking lot, it joins the crowded Fujinomiya Trail to the summit. My companions, in full yamabushi (mountain ascetic) regalia, were delayed several hours on the latter by hikers wanting them to pose for pictures.

Dedicated practitioners start their pilgrimage from the port of Tagonoura in Fuji City. Their journey has three sections, the first of which is the urban-suburban roadways of what once was a grassy plain, and represented “this world.” The forests of the Murayama Route represented a transition, and the bare slopes higher up, the world of the dead, to which the pilgrim could go and return.

A yamabushi mountain ascetic in full regalia, blowing a conch horn

The Suyama Route
Similar to the Murayama Route, the Suyama Route has recently been rescued from oblivion. It starts from the Suyama Sengen Shrine near Ashitakyama, an eroded volcanic remnant southeast of Mt. Fuji. Its lower reaches pass adjacent to a golf course and other tourist facilities that lend it a certain quantity of litter and noise, but it is geologically interesting. (ref. 4)

Mizutsuka, one of several old cinder cones along the way, is one of the few places on the mountain with reliable surface water. The trail gives views of all three of the Hoei-zan craters, site of Mt. Fuji’s most recent eruption in 1707, before reaching the Ochuudoh and Fujinomiya Trails at the 6th Station.

The Gotemba Route, which parallels it nearby, is the most difficult and picturesque route up Mt. Fuji, climbing through cinders from the Hoei eruption, but the trail appears to have no deep history.

The Subashiri Trail
From the vicinity of the Niihashi Sengen Shrine, established about 800 years ago in Gotemba (ref 5), east of Mt. Fuji, there is a trail going up to the small secondary peak of Kofuji near the Subashiri 5th Station. I can find nothing on the history of that trail, but have heard that in old times women were allowed access to a smaller peak on pilgrimages, and I have long thought that peak might be it.

The main Subashiri Trail currently rises from the 5th Station and meets the Yoshida Trail at the 8th Station. This causes confusion among hikers attempting to descend on the latter. If the Ochuudoh route were better known, it would be a cinch for lost hikers to return to the proper trail at the 6th Station, taking about twenty minutes along a level course.

The Shoji Trail
The Shoji Trail is one of the most interesting routes, leading from Lake Shoji to the northwest of the mountain to the 5th Station, where it joins the Ochuudoh and Yoshida Trails. There is no shrine associated with it, and it bisects the haunted forest of Aokigahara, where families once abandoned their elderly to die, currently a destination for suicides.

Compasses often do not work in the forest due to geomagnetic anomalies. This is a shame, because otherwise, it is a most impressive route. Devotees piled up basalt rocks to make the route smooth and straight, and the dense forest has largely protected their work from erosion.

The road was broad enough to accommodate royalty and is still easily passable, despite fallen trees, and unmistakable for its entire course. The minimal signs are more than adequate. The two yamabushi and I hiked down it at night. This trail and the Ochuudoh provide a sense of the degree of devotion once shown by pilgrims, ascetic practitioners and lay followers alike.

The Ochuudoh
Literally, “the middle road,” this route circumscribes Mt. Fuji at the 5th to 6th Stations and was particularly beloved by the Fuji confraternity, who maintained at least one shrine along it which also provided lodging. Representing the Buddhist injunction to avoid extremes, it was nonetheless the most difficult pilgrimage route, with a hazardous crossing of the Ohsawa Kuzure, an erosional gully on the west slope.

Fuji from the west, showing the deep chasm of the Ohsawa Kuzure gully

The route fell out of use several decades ago when the gully became simply too dangerous to cross, but I have traveled nearly all of it and was able to ascertain its current status last October. The entire route on the Yamanashi (i.e., north) side is in good condition, passing through forests which protect it from rock slides. Parts of it near the Yoshida 5th Station parking lot have been paved with hand-hewn stones, presenting a broad, currently popular route. Like the Yellow-Brick Road, however, things get wild further on and care must be taken to stay on course.

The Fuji confraternity shrine is just short of the constantly rumbling chasm of the Ohsawa Kuzure in a dense foggy forest about 1.5 hours walk westward from the Yoshida 5th Station parking lot. Eastward, just short of where it intersects the Subashiri Trail, there are the remains of another shrine. Crossing over to the Shizuoka (i.e., south) side from there, however, the trail emerges onto bare slopes, where it was annually obliterated even when it had large numbers of travelers.

A sandy slog of about an hour, angling slightly upward takes you into view of the Hoei-zan crater, where the Ochuudoh is clearly marked and well traveled, running along the shoulder of the cinder cone, then descending into the crater, emerging at the Fujinomiya Trail 6th Station. Westward from there, however, it has been entirely obliterated by bulldozer roads, and its point of reentry into the forests beyond can be hard to locate. There is at least one brave soul, however, who makes the complete circuit regularly, descending to the base of Mt. Fuji to cross the Ohsawa Kuzure, and climbing again on the other side as a summertime exercise when his real passion of cross-country skiing is not possible.

An unnamed waterfall near a Fuji-kyo meeting house west of Mt. Fuji, where the basalt is picturesque. (This and above photo by Pat Ormsby)

Eight Inner and Eight Outer Lakes
The Fuji confraternity was a sect founded in the early 16th century by Hasegawa Kakugyo, an ascetic who bypassed the thriving Shugendo community at Murayama and undertook his own ascetic practice in the Hitoana lava cave to the west of Mt. Fuji. Highly popular as a lay organization promoting Fuji pilgrimages during the Edo period, it seems to have been bypassed by modernity, the most recent Hasegawa heir shunning the leadership. The remaining members are mostly old enough to remember the deprivations of World War II or its aftermath.

Their liturgy mentions “uchisoto hakko no ryuujin,” meaning the dragon gods of the eight inner and eight outer lakes. The inner lakes include the famous five lakes of Mt. Fuji and three other smaller lakes that are not famous. The first of these is Lake Osensui, where the Dragon King of hand washing is said to reside. That is the ritual of purification undertaken before entering sacred ground. The second is Lake Yamanaka, where dwells the Dragon King of medicine. The third is Lake Asumi, with the Dragon King of prophecies. The fourth is Lake Kawaguchi, with the Dragon King of irrigation. The fifth is Lake Saiko, with the Dragon King of green trees (that is to say, the haunted forest of Aokigahara), from where arise the seeds of our food. The sixth is Lake Shoji, with the Dragon King of success. The seventh is Lake Motosu, with the Dragon King of ancient origins from the mists of mythology. The eighth is Lake Shibire, with the Dragon King of future outcomes.

Summer solstice at Futamigaura

The Fuji sect followers still undertake pilgrimages to these, but travel by car. The Tokai Shizen Hodo, established in recent decades from Tokyo to Osaka, passes fairly close to most of the lakes, making a pleasant trip on foot possible. It would be less strenuous than climbing Mt. Fuji—unless one undertook the traditional ritual bathing at each lake. Fed by Mt. Fuji spring water arising from deep below the surface, they are icy cold.

The eight outer lakes include Biwako, Ashinoko, Futamigaura, Suwako, Chuzenjiko, Harunako, Sakuragaike, and Kasumigaura. Of these, Futamigaura is not actually a lake but a sea coast in Ise. However, it shares with the others the distant visibility of Mt. Fuji, if not directly, then from a mountain nearby.

At Futamigaura, which has the famous married rocks joined by a rope of rice straw (ref. 6), the sun rises from directly behind Mt. Fuji at the summer solstice. Visiting all of these would have been a labor of great devotion in times prior to modern transport.

References
1 http://www.city.fujiyoshida.yamanashi.jp/div/english/html/climb.html
2 Rowlett, Roger (2005) “Murayama Kodo Trail Opens on Fuji” http://americasroof.com/archives/392
3 For detailed information see: http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/shugendou.html
4 For a fascinating geological account of Mt. Fuji see : http://www.vulcanospeleology.org/sym05gui/ISV5G04.pdf
5 http://city.gotemba.shizuoka.jp/ehp/sightseeing/12.html
6 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meoto_Iwa

Spiritual cocktails

March 29, 2013 / John D.

What part-time job could this priest be doing?

Many of Shinto’s 22,000 priests work in straightened circumstances. Their income from Shinto is not enough, and they are forced to do part-time jobs to survive. Some get by as best they can.

Britain’s Guardian newspaper carries a piece today about a possible role model….

“A Buddhist priest in Japan is breaking the mould by offering cocktails alongside prayers and sermons. Yoshinobu Fujioka hands out advice along with his ‘soul-cleansing’ cocktails, which include ‘perfect bliss’ and ‘infinite hell’. Japan’s religious leaders are concerned at the dwindling number of young people practising Buddhism.”

For a video of the Buddhist cocktail maker in action, see the video here.

Dirty money

March 27, 2013 / John D.

uk finance.com has recently come out with an article about how dirty money is. Nice irony for a financial website. Especially so in view of the banking crisis and the Cyprus disaster. It turns out that it’s all filthy lucre, quite literally…. It’s a symbol of a rotten, polluted world. No wonder the samurai would have nothing to do with it!!

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Purify and purificaiton lie at the hear of Shnto – and a concern to ensure that money is ‘clean’

New tests by Oxford University scientists have confirmed what many of us have long feared – cash is dirty, disgusting and riddled with bacteria.

The research found that European bank notes on average contain over 26,000 bacteria. Things are much better with newer, fresher notes and coins, with just 2,400 bacteria found on them.

Perhaps it’s no surprise, given a study by MasterCard found that a whopping 57% of us felt that bank notes and coins were the least hygienic item we come into contact with on a daily basis.

The sut timrvey asked people across 15 different European nations, and in each and every one cash was considered the least hygienic item of all!

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So which European nation boasts the dirtiest currency of all? Surprisingly, to me anyway, it’s the Danish krone with 40.266 bacteria. (Anything over 26,000 is apparently a health hazard.).

What’s all this got to do with Shinto, you may well ask?

Well, I think most people would agree that money in Japan is likely to be amongst the least bacteria ridden. All those fresh crisp notes, for example. It’s part of the culture of cleanliness in the country. Nowhere else I know of is as meticulous about hygiene as Japan (except perhaps for Singapore where it has to be enforced by law).

Examples abound about the Japanese obsession with purity. Banisters are wiped methodically on stairs and escalators. Public phones are wiped before use. Special slippers provided for lavatories, and woe to those who forget to take them off afterwards.

On a personal level I’ve had visitors inspect my cutlery, even when they weren’t going to eat. Dirty looks for not staying in the shower long enough. Reprimanded for chewing on a bit of unwashed grass.

The rationale for all this is usually put down to the Shinto emphasis on physical and spiritual purity. It’s just one of many ways that the values of Shinto can be seen to underwrite the basic patterns of Japanese culture. People often ask me why I’m so obsessed with Shinto, and here is one of the prime reasons. As I wrote in my book on Hidden Christians, D.T. Suzuki claimed that Zen underlay Japanese culture, but I think there’s greater reason to claim that of Shinto. I hope one day to write a book explaining why.

Miko collecting ’dirty money’ from the offerngs-box at Futarasan Jinja at Nikko. Will she have to be purified afterwards?

Mountain worship (Fuji)

March 27, 2013 / John D.

From afar Fuji looks the picture of pristine

Jesus gave a sermon on the mount. Buddhists seek them out for monasteries. The ancients of the Far East used to worship them. What is it about mountains and spirituality?

The obvious answer is that they make you high. Literally. And figuratively. They’re as close as you come on this earth to heaven. And the lack of oxygen may well mean that they’re as close as you can come to passing into otherworldliness too. Climb a mountain and you ascend to a higher realm.

Mountains bring escape from the tedious trivialities of everyday existence into rare contemplation of the blessings of life. Mountains take you up, up and away. They make you feel awake, alert, alive to the wonders of the world. Mountains are simply magic.

Tourists jostle for photos in Seifa Utaki's sacred opening

Given the rare nature of mountains, it’s alarming then to hear of the sorry state of that most sacred of mountains, Mt Fuji.

Even as the vetting group for the World Heritage nomination write their report, the state of the holy mount remains sadly anything but conducive to spirituality, as a personal comment below makes clear, taken from a piece on mountain climbing in Japan Today…

Okinawa’s most sacred site, Seifa Utaki, has recently won the right to be closed on certain days according to the lunar calendar in order to preserve a sense of sanctity for worshippers.

Registration as a World Heritage site has brought Seifa increased numbers of tourists, but ironically a downturn in the very spiritual qualities for which it was registered. For believers it was not so much a blessing as a curse.

Will Fuji benefit from World Heritage status, or will it mark its final ruination? All to play for as the final decision is settled this June in the hallowed halls of Unesco….

Watch this space!

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From Japan Today….

a warning to those going to climb mt fuji in the official seasons.
beware of the following:

* rubbish
* elderly
* endless people, walking at a crawl.
* the entrance fee to actually climb the mountain.
* the glaring lamp lights of those attempting to reach the summit before the sunrise, especially a perfectly clear night with a full moon.. you can actually see more without the lamps on..

View from sacred Mt Miwa down over the mortals mired in the Yamato basin

Benten’s roots (Saraswati)

March 25, 2013 / John D.

She stands seductively at the water’s edge and speaks of poetry and music. In her hands a lute, and around her feet white snakes coiled in attendance. She brings good fortune to those who worship her, and she sails the high seas with a jolly crew of seven. She’s a goddess, a deity, a Muse. She’s Benzaiten, aka Benten, honoured by Shinto and Buddhism alike.

If you see a shrine on an islet, in all likelihood it will be that of Benten. In the midst of the pond garden, or haunting islands along the coast, it is Benten. Water is her medium, and the subconscious her realm. Benten moves in mysterious ways, like the wavy patterns of her dress. She’s an artist, who possesses knowledge of the hidden world and speaks to the eternal. She’s a higher truth in human form.

In a posting for her blog, Anuradha Gupta has written of the origins of this compelling deity, who made her way from ancient India across the vast expanse of China from where she passed into Japan sometime between the sixth and eighth centuries. To understand her spell, you have to travel back in time to the origins. Back indeed to holy Saraswati, incarnation of the river that feeds the well-springs of creativity within us all… (the piece below is an edited version; for the original, click here.)

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Saraswati is one of the three main Hindu goddesses. She is ‘Vac Devi’, the goddess of ‘speech’ or literature and is incarnated in all art forms. All knowledge and learning is believed to flow from Saraswati. While Brahma is the Lord of Creation, Saraswati his daughter is Creativity itself.

You can recognize her by her white and gold garments and pale complexion. She has four arms and holds in her hands the veena, a stringed musical instrument, a book ( the vedas), a mala of beads and sometimes a pot of water. She is often seen seated on a lotus flower or standing by a river. At times you will find peacocks or swans by her side.

Meaning and Origin Saraswati means ‘to flow’, as is the nature of knowledge and creativity. It cannot be contained and must flow freely. Saraswati is also the Goddess of Purity, for the true purpose of knowledge is to purify the mind and lead it to wisdom. It is also the nature of a river to flow, to purify and to nourish. And, ultimately to merge with the ocean.

No surprise then that the Goddess Saraswati as we know her today started off as the Rig Vedic river, Saraswati, which once flowed from the East to the West in northern India. Today only a small part of it remains as the Ghaggar River in Rajasythan; the rest of it long lost under the vast Marusthali desert.

However satellite images and geological mapping show that the Vedic Saraswati was indeed an enormous river, about 1500 kms long and eight kms wide in her prime. Archeologists believe she played a major role in sustaining the Indus Valley civilization. Which explains why Saraswati is praised so lavishly in all the Vedas with several hymns dedicated to her. One hymn describes her as the ‘best of the mothers, best of the rivers, best of the goddesses’. The river was an important part of all Vedic worship and rituals and continues to be an integral part of Hinduism even today.

Around 4000 BC when the Saraswati dried up, the people who had settled on her banks moved eastwards. Thousands of years later, by the time the Upanishads and Puranas were written, the River Ganges had become the most important river and the Saraswati had faded into a memory preserved in myths and stories.

This transformation in attitudes is clearly seen in the Upanishads wherein Saraswati now becomes the goddess of knowledge who leads man to the ocean of Truth. This idea of Saraswati was later incorporated into Jainism and Buddhism. Through Buddhism it spread beyond India to the far east.

In Jainism, she became Saraswati, the dispeller of darkness and ignorance. Tibetan Buddhists know her as Yang Chenmo who bestows wisdom and learning. In Mongolian she is Keleyin ukin Tegri, in Chinese she is called Tapien-ts’ai t’iennu or Miao-yin mu, and in Japan she is Dai-Ben-Zai-Ten, meaning ‘the great divinity of the reasoning faculty’.

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Benzaiten as a kami (From Wikipedia)

Benzaiten is a female kami to Shinto with the name Ichikishima-hime-no-mikoto. Also, she is believed by Tendai Buddhism to be the essence of kami Ugajin, whose effigy she sometimes carries on her head together with a torii. As a consequence, she is sometimes also known as Uga Benzaiten or Uga Benten.

The three big Benzaiten shrines in Japan are at Enoshima Island in Sagami Bay, the Chikubu Island in Lake Biwa and the Itsukushima Island in Seto Inland Sea.

Naked festivals

March 24, 2013 / John D.

Nakedness used to play a vital role in Japanese festivals and fertility rites. Under the influence of the sex-obsessed cultures of the West, it has been sadly downplayed or even thought shameful by some. But the so-called Hadaka Matsuri (Naked Festivals), in which men wear loincloths, have managed to survive. In an article in Japan Today, Heenali Patel considers the phenomenon and how it relates to modern youth.

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The naked truth in Japan by Heenali Patel
Japan Today MAR. 23, 2013

A heap of round bodies squirms and squeals as the chilly night air descends upon it. Its outer rim of pale exposed flesh shudders in the lantern light like an inflated over-plucked chicken. Rolling down the streets, it passes crowds of people who shuffle along under the shadows of rickety buildings, clutching steaming buns and sticks that drip with jammy sauce. Buttocks jiggle, arms flail, loincloths flash like crumpled smiles into the dark….

No, this isn’t a scene from a Heironymous Bosch painting. It is, in fact, the somewhat less infernal Hadaka Matsuri, or Naked Man Festival. Yes, that’s right, a festival for hoards of Japanese men to brave freezing temperatures in barely more than their birthday suits.

Loincloths and a religious frenzy (from Japanzine)

The Naked Man Festival has a long tradition in Japan, with a deep well of symbolism that goes beyond the surface of its wrinkled hindquarters. And if one were to flip through a Japanese history book, references to nudity would come hard and fast – from images of feudal peasants working fields unclothed, to public baths peppered with naked bodies. Given these aspects of Japanese history and culture, it would be easy to assume that nudity is commonplace in Japan, and not necessarily linked to sexuality as it is in the West.

In Pink Samurai, Nicholas Bornoff writes: “At the two extremes of female and male in popular culture, one finds the geisha and the sumo wrestler: the dainty living doll standing for femininity and the mountainous icon of macho flesh with the little porcine eyes.”

Historically, it is clothing that has traditionally suggested sexuality in Japan – a sumptuously dressed woman has tended to hold more sway than a bare one. In contrast, when one imagines a loin-clothed sumo wrestler, it is unlikely to be within a sexual frame of mind.

Nudity in Japan has been unlinked to sexuality, and the norm for centuries – but does this really continue to be the case for the younger generation of Japanese? How has their perception of nudity started to change, if at all?

An investigation on how the Japanese interpretation of nudity is changing inevitably involves a discussion about shifting sexual perceptions. My first encounter of this stemmed from the classroom. Having described my recent cultural escapades at the Naked Man Festival to a class of 14-year-olds, the instant reaction was: “Was everyone naked? Were there naked girls too? How much could you see down there?”

Naked souls and all in harmony (from Outsider Japan)

Perhaps this can be explained by the idiosyncratic nature of my students; or the social demographic to which they belong. But I couldn’t help notice how very stark the difference seemed between the traditional image that most foreigners have of Japanese nudity, and the reality lodged comfortably in the crevices of my students’ brains.

So when did this shift begin? Unsurprisingly, the clash between modern nudity in Japan and its traditional counterpart gleans much of its raison d’etre from politics. Toward the end of the 19th century, the Japanese government banned public nudity as a means of appearing more “civilized” to the West and repealing a series of unequal treaties. What eventually followed was a burgeoning pornography industry and a new sexual attitude towards the human body to go with it. As “Pink Japan” eloquently puts it: “Once the naked body had been legislated against and thus ceased to be commonplace, it took on an erotic and mystified meaning.”

Looking around, it certainly seems to me like recent generations have been exposed to nudity in a sexual context far more than the generations that came before them. Anime shows abound with top-heavy women dressed in garments the size of miniature tea towels and men that can barely contain themselves; pachinko parlor entrances are festooned with posters of tightly equipped characters smiling down from awkward angles; even the uniforms worn by most high school girls are becoming borderline fetish costumes.

And yet, despite an increase in exposure to sexually-charged nude imagery, Japan remains one of the least sexually active countries in the world. According to SSL International PLC, (the makers of Durex condoms), the Japanese, on average, have sex around 36 times a year, compared to the world average of 97 times a year. Furthermore, a government survey in 2010 revealed that one third of Japanese males aged 16 to 19 are not interested in, or even feel an aversion toward sex – double the figure of 2008.

Well, how does a growing exposure to sexual nudity, premature arousal and an increasing lack of real sex connect up? It certainly indicates that changes in perceptions of nudity are contributing to a profound change in the way young Japanese people are identifying with the human body and their own sexualities.

courtesy of papodehomen

The Japanese concept of the body has often been described as having fewer boundaries and substantiality than its Western counterpart. As pointed out in Japan Focus, the Japanese have traditionally associated the body with “the continuation of soft curved lines” found in ukiyo-e art. Whilst the Western body is often described as an opaque definitely edged mass, the Japanese have tended to view the body as “a form or husk, which the wind can literally pass through.”

This particular distinction between Western and Japanese culture seems to be becoming less and less the case. Bodies are turning into concrete forms, more hard-wired to their changing role in society as a visual and sexual stimulant. Against the backdrop of a growing pornography industry and decreasing sexual activity, the appearance of the nude body is being instrumentalised a great deal more than the nude body itself.

To many of the younger generation, intimacy is becoming less appealing. Referring to an increase in boys’ fascination with virtual online girls, a Japanese public health official reasoned: “They don’t want to get hurt [by being duped by human girls]. So they never advance past the 2D world.” How has their perception of sexuality and the body become so distorted? Perhaps it is down to the lifestyle they are encouraged to lead. In contemporary Japan, many children do not have time for quality human and physical contact.

Occupied with extra-curricular activities, training programs and juku (cram schools), leisure time often revolves around passive activity like video-gaming, watching TV and, in general, forming deeper relationships with 2D figureheads than with real ones. What follows is a connection with the human body that is rooted on the screen, distorted and inflexible.

As explained in a sexual study on Japan conducted by the University of Berlin, “While there is much information related to sex and sexual behavior on television and in comic books, exposure to this information is not sufficient when they have to use it on their own, cognitively and affectively.”

How is this likely to have an impact on the future society of Japan? Already we can see the beginnings of a society where an aging population has become a growing burden on younger generations that refuse to go forth and multiply. But just as disturbing is the mental impact the loss of the naked body in its actuality is having on the Japanese. Fueled by a society where nudity is becoming less and less real, more and more virtual – children are being opened up onto a world of “fan service” pornography; fetishisms of every shape and form; and other methods of arousal that nullify the need for physical human contact.

Are we seeing the rise of a new kind of mass mentality that is likely to favor Japanese society? Possibly, though I doubt it. Perhaps it is time to re-evaluate the way in which the naked body is represented before it is too late. Perhaps it is time for the Japanese to re-prioritise reality. And perhaps, on a wholly practical level, it is time to put the “together” back into “in the altogether.”

Thumbs up all round (thanks to Issuesnideas)

Vernal equinox

March 21, 2013 / John D.

The spring equinox is celebrated in Japan with Shunbun no hi, a national holiday. It was established in 1948 as a day for the admiration of nature and the love of living things. Prior to 1948, the vernal equinox was an imperial ancestor worship festival called Shunki kōrei-sai, which shows how animism and ancestor worship overlap in Japanese consciousness.

The equniox is a reminder of the commonality of pagan religions, and the article below from a neo-pagan perspective, courtesy of the Huffington Post, puts forward some compelling thoughts about the nature of the season.

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Spring Equinox 2013: May You Be Like the Sun
by Teo Bishop

There is a reason that on Imbolc, the February High Day, we place such an emphasis on light and fire. When we say I keep vigil to the fire in my heart, we are acknowledging the real and present challenges of winter, as well as the feelings of stasis and stagnation that can occur during the colder, darker months.

We tended that fire because we had to; because it was imperative that we be mindful of the fact that the darkness is not a permanent state. It is only a season.

Example of how nature lends itself to celebration

And now we find ourselves on the precipice of a new season. Here in the Northern Hemisphere we observe the Spring Equinox, the moment when the light of day and the darkness of night are equal. Today, if but for a single moment, there is perfect balance.

And there is meaning in the balance.

The Equinox is more than just a scientific fact, an observable reality; it points to the shift that we are making toward a time of new growth and new life. The outer world — the thawing soil under our feet, the budding branches of the trees, the new sounds of the new offspring mingling with the bustle of the city — is all an indication to us that we are changing, too. We are breaking open and coming to life again.

That is, we can be. It is a mindset for us to embrace, should we choose to.

Paganism is made up of many experiential traditions. We come to know by doing. We do not typically act on blind faith, but instead seek to work our way toward a deeper understanding through our actions. We are willing to question our assumptions (or the assumptions handed down to us by others), and we are willing to think expansively about the ways we are connected to the world around us. It is in our experience of living that we come to wisdom about living.

And now, standing at this moment of balance, we have the opportunity to demonstrate these characteristics. We can embody this experiential ethos by asking ourselves:

Are we in balance? Are we willing to thaw, to soften, to allow for new growth in our lives? What does that look like? How does that feel?

Celebrating in harmony with nature

Will we stand in our own sovereignty on this day of balance and accept that there is a good and meaningful work for us in the coming weeks and months? This is the opportunity offered to us on the Equinox.

Whether we are gardeners, or farmers, or city dwellers, there is a planting to be done in the spring. This is a time to take the plans you made while waiting for warmer weather — those ideas about new projects, new endeavors, new steps toward a realized dream — and begin to put them into action. It is a time to start doing.

The world is an example. It is showing you how to start. You need only open your awareness to its unfolding, and you will see how you might begin to manifest the changes of spring in your own life.

“Manifestation,” a much over-used word in some circles, is not a parlor trick. It is a series of steps one takes toward a goal. Each step is important, including those small, unseen, internal shifts we make on days like today. Those questions listed above are worth spending time with, especially if the answers are not ready on your lips. They are meant to propel you forward into new action; and through that new action, new growth.

This is the blessing I offer to you on the Spring Equinox:

May you be like the soil.
Become ready for turning,
And welcome new life.

May you be like the bud.
Recognize your potential,
And expand into color.

May you be like the river.
Receive the new waters,
And move forward with power.

May you be like the sun.
Go forth into spring
And bring light to the world.

Pray with a good fire, my friends. Celebrate the Equinox with a full heart, and go into the world with confidence and clarity of purpose.

If you are a solitary Pagan or Druid and are looking for support around your practice, consider the Solitary Druid Fellowship. The Fellowship provides free, customizable High Day liturgies based in ADF Druidry, as well as daily, lunar and seasonal devotionals.

Plum blossom spreads some joy at Koysan’s Jison-in last weekend