Author: John D. (Page 60 of 202)

Touring Mt Daisen

July 6, 2016 / John D. / 2 Comments

courtesy Houki Town website

At 1,729 meters, Daisen rises as the tallest mountain in western Japan. It’s in Tottori Prefecture, on the way to the Izumo province of ancient myth. In the winter, the area transforms into the Okudaisen ski resort, drawing ski fans from all over the country with its views of the Sea of Japan and the Shimane peninsula. Locals like to call it the Tottori version of Mount Fuji thanks to its perfectly conical shape when viewed from the south side. From the west, however, it’s all craggy rough-hewn peaks. In the article below, the mountain’s religious history is covered, including its Shugendo connections. For those interested in ‘spiritual tourism’ off the beaten track, this is a most attractive option.

Fiery nights on Mount Daisen

By Rebecca Quin Japan Today Jul. 01, 2016

I feel the heat before I see it as we wind our way in the dark along the stone paved approach up the mountain towards the shrine. A horn sounds and the orange glow of fire through the dark trees gets stronger. Turning the corner, I’m half expecting to see a legion of armoured samurai readying for battle – what’s waiting on the steps to the summit is less terrifying but just as impressive.   It’s the opening of the climbing season on Mount Daisen, known as “Okami-no-take” or “the mountain of the gods”, where climbers come to take part in an ancient festival to ask for safety and protection among its volcanic peaks – the highest in the Chugoku region. The festival is one of the area’s most popular, attracting more than 2,000 people over the first weekend of June.

The main event is a “Game of Thrones”-style torchlight parade down from the misty mountaintop guided by fur-clad “yamabushi” (warrior mountain priests) and the long, deep echo of their conch shells. This year, the invisible, steady patter of rain joins us.

The Shrine for the Mountain of the Great Spirit ‘Ogamiyama’ (from Houki Town website)

Crowds in brightly-colored rain jackets were jostling for shelter under the gray eaves of Ogamiyama Shrine where the parade began. We’d visited the shrine earlier that day and I spot the two “komainu” or lion-dog statues still guarding the stone steps up to the main hall, faces split into a half-grin at the shivering group of press stationed by the entrance gate. This morning there had been no one but now the forested grounds were buzzing with families, young couples and climbers decked out in full hiking gear, their excitement mounting as the priests began performing the first rituals.

Dating back to the Heian period, Ogamiyama Shrine, along with Daisen-ji temple which sits just below on the mountain slope, was once part of a thriving center of “shugendo” worship. Climbing the mountain was banned to normal folk before the Edo period, allowing for the natural conservation of an expansive beech forest that is now under the protection of the Daisen-Oki National Park.

Around 3,000 mountain ascetics came to train on Mount Daisen up until the Meiji era “shinbutsu-bunri,” when the large network of branch temples declined with the separation of Shinto and Buddhism.

Four worship halls and 10 branch temples are all that remain of the once bustling temple town. You can glimpse what it must have been like with a traditional temple stay at Sanraku-so, located just before the entrance to Daisen-ji.

Yamabushi

Ogamiyama Shrine is an incredible building; the tall crumbling steps leading up to the shrine are framed by towering beech trees and a mist resting poetically on the curled edges of a distinctive bark roof. Inside, the rooms lead into one another in the shape of an H according to the “gongen-zukuri” style, connecting the worship hall, hall of offerings and the main sanctuary together.

Suddenly, everything is silent. The sound of the head “yamabushi” sounding the horn cuts into the darkness and the parade begins. From where I’m standing at the bottom of the steps, I see a wave of fire emerge from the top and start to flow down like lava. It makes me think of medieval peasants on a witchhunt and is Hollywood-spectacular – just for a second, I slip through time into another world.

Mount Daisen is considered to be the home of the first Shinto god and ancestor of Japan. Its mythology permeates the towns and communities that surround it, detectable in the unexpected giant demon sculptures overlooking an isolated row of farmhouses or the smiling stone “jizo” statues that poke out of the grass along the curving roads.

During warmer climes, a three-hour hike will take you to the top via one of two main routes. Staff at the Daisen Tourist Information Center encouragingly claim that both are easy enough to be regularly tackled by local elementary school kids on geography trips. The center, in a Swiss-style chalet at the bottom of the hill leading up to Daisen-ji temple, provides advice on making the climb as well as other things to do in the area.

Throughout the year, cozy “minshuku” or guesthouses offer family-style lodging in the main town and at various points along the hiking trails. An even cheaper option might be one of the campgrounds run by the National Park Service near the Gouenzan Ski Area.

Spiritual high on Mt Daisen (Houki Town website)

As the ambassador for the region’s growing ecotourism movement, Daisen’s carefully preserved streets and traditional, sustainable architecture reflect the conservation of the often surprising natural landscape that makes up much of Tottori-ken. The sprawling sand dunes along the San’in coast are the first piece of the prefecture’s puzzle of geographic wonders when you arrive via Tottori airport, nicknamed Tottori Sand Dunes Conan after the manga hero (whose author is a Tottori native).

From the mountains to the sea, outdoor activities flourish. Tourist brochures are filled with photos of mountain biking, horseriding, snorkeling, boat cruising, paragliding and sandboarding, all set against jaw-dropping backdrops.

In the mountain’s foothills, the village of Houki is straight from a postcard, dotted with quaint holiday homes and picturesque rest stops. This is where we retreat to when the rain clears the following day, stopping for brunch in an adorable Totoro-themed cafe. Sitting in the sunshine I think of the climbers who gathered at dawn for the first summer ascent of the mountain and wonder if they made it ok. Seeing the majestic peak of Daisen soar into the sky in the distance, I can believe that they did.

External Link: http://www.tottori-tour.jp/en/

Tottori map

Tanabata 7/7

July 6, 2016 / John D. / 5 Comments

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My local station (Demachiyanagi in Kyoto) has put up this attractive looking arrangement next to its information rack. What’s that all about your may wonder? Well, thereby hangs a tale of star-crossed lovers…

Seven is a magic number, and double seven doubly so. In Daoism it’s part of the 3-5-7 odd numbers that denote dynamism. It’s said too to be related to the phases of the moon, with the lunar cycle of 28 days being split into quarters of seven days – hence the length of the week. Lucky seven is written deep into the culture: seven ages of Man, 007, seven dwarves of Snow White, seven brides for seven brothers, seventh son of a seventh son.

So why not make your 7/7 a little bit special this year? Read on, and you may find out how…..

7/7 sees decorations up around Japan to celebrate a celestial coming together

Stars and constellations had a close connection with the spirituality of early Man. ‘It’s written in the stars,’ goes the old saying. Tanabata is a clear example. It concerns two lovers represented by two different constellations, which are separated by the Milky Way but able to meet once a year. By way of celebration, people write poems or their wishes on strips of brightly coloured paper which are tied to bamboo.

Tanabata decorations around a sacred tree at Fuji Sengen Jinja

Like much of ‘Japanese tradition’, it has its origins in China. It was first mentioned in the 7th century, and later during the Tokugawa period it became established as one of the ‘five seasonal feasts’. These included New Year’s Day (1/1); Kyokusui no en (Poetry writing) (3/3); Boys Festival (5/5); and the Festival of Chrysanthemums (9/9). Things have changed since then, but the Tanabata tradition carries on.

Here is what the authoritative Kokugakuin encyclopedia has to say on the subject:

According to an ancient Chinese story, two lovers—the Herdsman (Altair in the constellation Aquila) and the Weaver woman (Vega in the constellation Lyra)—traversed the sky separately and could cross the Milky Way and be together but once a year provided the sky was clear. This day was called Qi Xi, or “seventh night” (read tanabata in Japanese).

A similar myth existed in Japan about the saintly maiden weaver, Tanabatatsume (lit. ‘girl of the shelved loom’), who awaits her annual one-night visit from a kami at her hut by the river (that is, the Milky Way), and this fused with the Chinese tale of the Weaver woman.

Prayers at Kitaguchi Hongu Fuji Sengen at Tanabata time

Also related to this celebration is a festival called kikōden, during which women pray for improvement in their weaving and calligraphy skills. At the court during the Heian period, they would skewer various foods from land and sea such as pears, peaches, and dried bream on seven gold and seven silver needles and threading them with five-colored string (blue, yellow, red, white, and black) to use as a tanabata offering. A banquet would also be held during which the emperor would observe the meeting of the stars, and performances of poetry, songs, and instrumental music would take place.

Nowadays on Tanabata, people commonly write poems or wishes on fancy strips of paper (tanzaku) and cut stars and other shapes out of brightly colored paper, and use these to decorate a stalk of bamboo. The decorated stalks are customarily released into rivers, streams, and the sea the next morning. Some believe this practice is the product of the spread of lessons in reading and writing during the Edo period.

In some areas, horse-shaped puppets or other objects are substituted for bamboo stalks, and in others, the celebration involves a lighting of torches. Regardless of these variations, the celebrations that mark Tanabata are another example of an event wherein people welcome the kami and their ancestors for the occasion and send them away after they have spent the night.

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Wikipedia also carries a full page of information on the subject, including this rather interesting titbit…

In 2008, the 34th G8 summit in Tōyako, Hokkaidō coincided with Tanabata. As host, Japanese Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda invited the G8 leaders to participate in the spirit of the festival. They were each asked to write a wish on a piece of paper called tanzaku, to hang the tanzaku on a bamboo tree, and then to take the necessary actions to change the world for better. As a symbolic gesture, the actual writing and the act of hanging up that note is at least a first step.

The Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs made colored strips of paper and a bamboo tree for G8 wishes available in Roppongi during the summit. Protesting organizations in Sapporo during the G8 summit also tried to use the spirit of Tanabata to focus attention on a somewhat different set of wishes. Non-governmental organizations like Oxfam, and CARE International set up an online wish petition campaign to coincide with the G8 Summit and Tanabata.

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For one of the best and fullest accounts of Tanabata, please see Megan Manson’s neopagan-Shinto website.

This year astronaut Onishi Takuya, about to head off to the stars himself for four months, made the headlines by saying that he too was wishing on a star for Tanabata – see here.

ISSA fieldwork (Sudo and Sekizan Zen’in)

June 30, 2016 / John D. / 0 Comments

Keeping an eye on the north east
by Jann Williams (photos supplied by Jann)

On June 11^th 2016 the International Shinto Studies Association (ISSA) held its second fieldwork program. The afternoon program, which visited Sudo Shrine and Sekizan Zen’in Temple in north east Kyoto, was led by Reverend Yoshinobu Miyake, the Chair of the Board of ISSA. I learnt of the field day through Green Shinto and after contacting Reverend Miyake my husband Tony and I were accepted into the program. On the day we met at 1 pm at Kokusaikaikan Station and were taken by taxis to the two sites.

As Tony and I are both ecologists, we thought that a day of field work would involve some work in the field (e.g. helping tidy up the shrine/temple grounds), so we dressed accordingly. Next time we will know to wear different attire, with the other participants being dressed more formally. This is illustrated in the group photo taken at Sudo Shrine below. As the only participants who did not speak Japanese, we appreciated the Reverend translating some of the information for us.

Group photo Sudo Shrine June 11 2016

Even without hearing the full story, being able to visit these two sites was worthwhile and we appreciated the opportunity to do so. Both the shrine and temple are located on forested slopes which added to the enjoyment of the afternoon. The vibrancy of the vegetation in early summer was a sight to behold.

The original Green Shinto article advertising the ISSA event has links to more information about the Shrine and Temple we visited, including an informative interview with the priest at Sezikan Zen’in Temple. As a consequence I will limit this report to a few impressions of the field day with some accompanying images.

Sekizan Zen’in
The two sites were located to the north east of the original Imperial Palace in Kyoto, as shown in the next image. The spirit gate called Kimon, which is used by demons, is believed to stand in the north east. The Tendai sect temple we visited, established in 888, has been widely worshipped as the protector of people from bad luck coming through this gate.

Pointing out directions

A monk from the temple shared many stories with us, including about the monkey imagery at the temple (seen below on the rooftop behind the monk), the Mt Hiei thousand day practice the ‘marathon monks’ underwent, the origin of the pilgrimage of Kyoto’s Seven Deities of Good Luck, and the importance of the polar star. It was all fascinating and information that otherwise would be challenging to uncover. The ability to see inside some of the temple buildings at Sezikan Zen’in and take photos was appreciated.

Monk with monkey imagery

The temple is known for its syncretic nature, with many Shinto elements apparent at the site including torii, ema and shide. The rosary-shaped gate you walk through reminded me of the chinowa that are gracing shrines at the moment – although in the case of the temple the fixture is permanent. In the next image Reverend Miyake is explaining that you can only make one wish as you walk through the rosary gate. Recently I have visited the Hozanji Shingon Temple at Ikoma which also has a strongly syncretic nature. These places provide some sense of the intimate connections between Shinto and Buddhism before the shinbutsu bunri, the separation of kami and buddhas, in 1868.

Rosary gate and Reverend Miyake

In addition to the Shinto aspects of the temple, the links to China were a feature of the visit for me. For example, the importance of directions such as the north east stems from Chinese geomancy. According to the information board provided by Kyoto City the principal statue at the temple, Sezikan Myojin, was made by the high priest Jikaku Daishi as a double image of Taizanfukun (Dosojin, the guardian deity for the community, in the yin-yang philosophy) in Sezikan, China. I have a particular interest in yinyang and the associated five Chinese elements as part of the research I am undertaking on the elements in Japan.

Sudo Shrine
Sudo Shrine also has a long history. It was established to enshrine the avenging spirit of Prince Sawara Shinno after he died of hunger in 785 AD. On arrival we participated in a purification ceremony at the Shrine. The following image of the service was provided by Reverend Miyake. While I have been part of similar ceremonies at Oomoto, this was my first purely Shinto experience in an outdoor setting. It was one of many special program activities organised during the afternoon.

Purification ceremony Sudo Shrine

The two cones of sand in front of the main shrine (pictured below), each with a sakaki branch and shide in them, reminded me of similar cones I have seen at Kamigamo Shrine (which have pine needles in them) and at Zen Temples such as Myoshin-ji. I was told the cones at Sudo Shrine were related to mountain deities. At Kamigamo Shrine they represent yin and yang. At Zen Temples they have been linked to purification. It is interesting and important to contemplate the shared imagery and rituals between Buddhism and Shinto, as Green Shinto has recently done with Zen. As was shown, there is more that connects them than meets the eye.

The ISSA fieldwork program, while it was not what Tony and I were expecting, was an informative and enriching day. The pace was quick, with presentations given by two priests at the Shrine, a monk at the Temple, and Reverend Miyake at both locations. It was a lot to take in. In hindsight it would have been helpful to take some notes to record some of the finer details we were given. There was also limited time to take photographs, one of my favourite pastimes. All useful lessons if the opportunity to attend another field day arises. I would definitely recommend it.

Twin cones at Sudo Shrine

First clock festival

June 12, 2016 / John D. / 0 Comments

One of the functions of the shaman in ancient societies was as guardian of the tribe’s identity. This often meant memorising great chunks of mythology and history. Keeping a record of the past not only tells you who you are, but it honours the memory of the ancestors. In other words, it’s part of what is known as ‘ancestor worship’.

Modern Shinto fulfills the same role as ancient shamanism, carefully keeping the past alive in the countless festivals that occur in the country throughout the year. What’s interesting about this report below is that the festival was started in 1941 and the shrine in 1940. Was it connected to the patriotic spirit of the time? Was it simply a matter of exploiting local lore? Or was there some ulterior motive in picking up the subject of clocks?

Whatever the reason, I like the way Shinto acts to keep Japanese history a part of contemporary life. Each year the past is renewed. And each time the national identity is reinforced. It’s an important part of Japaneseness.

(30 second video of the ritual)

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Festival celebrating Japan’s first clock held in Shiga shrine

Kyodo Jun 10, 2016 Japan Times

OTSU – Women and men clad in ancient Japanese court dress took part in an annual clock festival Friday at a shrine to a seventh century emperor in Shiga Prefecture who is said to be the founding father of the clock time system in Japan.

As musicians played flutes and drums, the participants, including representatives of the clock industry, offered the latest products from Japanese clock makers to Omi Shrine to show its deity, Emperor Tenji (626-672), how clocks have developed.

According to the shrine in Otsu, Emperor Tenji introduced a water clock known as rokoku in Shiga’s capital, where the shrine is situated, on April 25, 671. The emperor is said to have believed in the importance of clocks to Japan’s development.

The ringing of the bell of the first clock in Japan was recorded in the “Nihon Shoki” (“The Chronicles of Japan”), an ancient book of history.

April 25 corresponds to June 10 in the solar calendar, thus June 10 was designated as Clock Day in Japan in 1920. The shrine, built in 1940, started holding the festival every June 10 in 1941.

New Folk Shinto

June 6, 2016 / John D. / 1 Comment

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Imagine my surprise when on my usual commute along the river Kamogawa in Kyoto, I happened to see the above scene. How very odd I thought. But then I remembered Green Shinto friend Roger Walch telling me something about his friends in an art collective in Osaka who organise an annual fertility festival in the Kamogawa. I guessed it must be them.

There were a couple of women accompanying the group along the river bank carrying banners, so I stopped to ask them about the event. They told me it was the Tentsuku Hounen Matsuri (Tentsuku being heavenly possession and Hounen meaning fertility and the name of the famous phallic festival held at Nagoya every year). Was it an artistic performance or a religious festival, I asked? It’s folk religion, they answered. A new addition to the tradition of Minzoku Shinto.

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This was the first time I’ve come across this in Japan. Green Shinto has carried reports of similar developments in the West, so for Japan this seemed something of a breakthrough. Japan is famously conservative, and in nearly every social movement over the past century it’s lagged something like thirty to fifty years behind the West. Think of smoking, gay rights, drugs, feminism, anti-discrimination…. you name it, and Japan will be the last to implement it.

In this respect I can’t help thinking that the Tentsuku Hounen Matsuri is Japan’s equivalent to the first neo-pagan events in the West, before words like Wicca had become part of the national consciousness. I recall taking part in an early Beltane festival at Glastonbury in the early 1970s that was very much on a par with the small group striding along the river in Kyoto.

I can’t speak for the intentions of the group, but the event was ‘pregnant’ with symbolism. Red is the colour of health and well-being, the phallus the organ of seed-giving. The impact of the red phallus is traditionally not only one of fertility, but of a way of scaring away evil spirits (in Bhutan they have them painted on their houses). This goes along with the white clothes to denote purity, and the troupe was led, I noticed, by a fellow with a big phallic nose indicative of Sarutahito, guide and leader.

The phallus was pointing at the triangular power spot where the rivers meet

The phallus was aiming for this triangular power spot

The route of the group was from Sanjo upriver to Imadegawa and the ‘power spot’ in the junction of the two rivers, Kamogawa and Takanogawa. Here the group enacted a very simple penetration by pushing the red phallus through a white sheet with a hole in it. (I’ve seen this done much more graphically in traditional style in a rice field.) I’m not sure if their intention was to bring fertility to the crops of the area, or to their own creative endeavours in the coming year.

The direction the group took towards the north is traditionally the correct way in which to approach sources of energy and authority. Rivers are well-known energy lines, and the meeting of rivers is a convergence of energy often denoted by ancient markers such as a shrine (in this case Shimogamo Jinja).

The classic shrine in the midst of a wooded copse has been compared to the female womb which is reached through a passageway via a torii opening. Within the womb takes place a magical ritual signifying impregnation, by which the kami descends and life is re-created. This is all the more evident in the case of Shimogamo, since the meeting point of the two rivers forms a V-shape.

It seems then that this New Age Folk Shinto has been very well conceived! Green Shinto truly hopes this is an early indicator of what is to come in the following years as a young generation turns to the past for inspiration, in the same way that neo-paganism has done in Britain and elsewhere.

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The Osaka collective pose for a photo by Swiss video maker and Green Shinto friend, Roger Walch

Zen and Shinto 16: Syncretism

June 4, 2016 / John D. / 4 Comments

Spanning the divide between the seen and unseen worlds

I happened to come across a short piece today that was a stark reminder of just how intertwined Shinto once was with Zen and other forms of Buddhism. It’s been nearly 150 years since the Meiji-era split between the religions, and we’re used to thinking of them as completely different. We talk of temples and shrines, of buddhas and kami, of foreign and indigenous, constantly reinforcing the division between them. Yet for so much of Japanese history this was far from the case, and in most people’s minds they were inextricably linked and indivisible. For some Japanese they still are.

A path to paradise in the lush moss garden of Saiho-ji

The item that prompted my thoughts concerns the World Heritage Site of Saiho-ji, a Zen temple more popularly known as Kokedera (Moss Temple). The temple was founded in the eighth century by a monk called Gyogi. By the fourteenth century it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned. This was a matter of concern to Fujiwara Chikahide, chief priest of nearby Matsuo Taisha. In 1338 he confined himself in prayer in the inner room of the temple, where he had a revelation that he should invite Muso Soseki, a monk at Rinsen-ji, to preside over Saiho-ji and lead its restoration. (Muso later became the founder of Tenryu-ji.)

Muso consented to the invitation and took up residence in Saiho-ji, and he constructed a garden based on two levels: a lower pond garden with path to stroll around, and an upper area with a dry landscape and place for meditation. Muso’s lower garden was apparently spread with sand; only in the nineteenth century, after flooding, did the moss grow for which the garden is now famous.

The collaboration of Fujiwara Chikahide and Muso Soseki shows just how tight were the ties of Shinto and Zen in those days. For us post-Meiji folk, it seems odd for two men of ‘different faiths’ to collaborate in such manner. But no doubt for the two men involved nothing could have been more natural, since the idea of ‘separate religions’ would have seemed quite absurd to them. [John Nelson, professor of Japanese Religion at San Francisco University, suggests that it might be equivalent to music, where what we would term as just music today might be divided tomorrow into quite distinct genres with their own peculiarities. Or to extend the analogy, perhaps it’s like thinking Country and Western is a genre, and then having the two parts split apart and the differences between them emphasised and enforced.]

Shinto shrine in the grounds of the Zen temple of Saiho-ji

A Zen rock garden – at Matsuo Taisha! (Created by famed designer, Shigemori Mirei)

Meiji marriages

June 1, 2016 / John D. / 0 Comments

Jonathan Madrid, 24, and Nao Sasaki, 30, are led by priests to the wedding hall at Tokyo’s Meiji Jingu on Saturday. | YOSHIAKI MIURA

Meiji Jingu a Tokyo shrine that’s popular for nuptials

by Yoshiaki Miura May 31, 2016

One bright Saturday afternoon in the fresh green of spring, priests led a bride and groom toward a wedding hall at Meiji Jingu, a renowned shrine in Tokyo’s Shibuya Ward.

The Shinto shrine is dedicated to the souls of Emperor Meiji and his wife, Empress Shoken. It was established in 1920 and stands in a 700,000-sq.-meter enclosure planted with 100,000 trees donated by people in Japan and others overseas.

Gagaku musicians lined up to accompany the newly-wed’s procession

Today, the shrine is a popular site for marriage ceremonies. On busy weekends, it carries out around 15 weddings a day.

Last Saturday, Nao Sasaki, 30, and Jonathan Madrid, 24, walked nervously and silently toward the hall to pray, make their wedding vows and become a family. Madrid works at U.S. Army Camp Zama in Kanagawa Prefecture.

Photographs were not allowed during the ceremony, but the rituals included a norito (prayer recitation) by a priest, drinking nuptial sake together, exchanging rings and pledging wedding vows before kami. This word refers to the Shinto notion of myriad divine spirits, as compared with the monotheist tradition of Christianity and Islam.

“In Shinto, some divinity is found as Kami, or it may be said that there is an unlimited number of Kami,” the shrine’s website says. “You can see Kami in mythology, in nature, and in human beings.”

Smiling newlywed Madrid said: “I felt very happy about the wedding. It was pretty different, but a happy experience.”

“It was actually where my wife and I came on our first date. . . . We didn’t know at the time we would decide to get married and decide to have our ceremony here,” said Madrid. The couple now live at Camp Zama.

Tomohiro Isogai, priest at the shrine, said of his job: “I feel the gravity of leading a once in a lifetime event for the couple. They have made their vows before kami and went though a ceremony to live their lives according to their vows.” He wished the couple eternal happiness.

Wedding pose