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Aikido

Higuchi sensei of Takemusu Aikido Kenkyukai

I’ve never been drawn to martial arts, but intrigued by the Shinto connections of aikido I decided yesterday to go along to a talk put on by the Kyoto Prefectural International Center.  It could be argued that the spread of Shinto abroad owes more to aikido than any other single factor, so I was naturally curious to learn more.  It was a horribly hot and humid day, which may explain why I was the sole member of the audience.  Lucky me: I got my own private demonstration.

The session started off with an analysis of the Chinese characters for aikido: meet – ki (or chi) – way.  Way of harmonising ki.  The analysis revealed that there was a moral component of helping one’s enemies, as if bending them back onto the straight and narrow.  There was then a brief demonstration on tatami with a woman throwing her opponent this way and that.  It reminded me of Steven Seagal shows I’ve seen on Youtube that looked patently fake, with attackers flinging themselves in various directions rather than actually being thrown.

Aikido founder, Ueshiba Morihei

The demonstration was followed by a 25 minute black-and-white film produced in 1961 featuring aikido founder, Ueshiba Morihei (1883-1969).  It showed practitioners at his dojos, as well as midnight training on a mountain.  The swirling patterns and constant turning had an almost hypnotic effect.  There was one scene in which an opponent was held down by a single finger, and a dramatic finale in which a genuine sword was used in a test of a pupil’s ability.

At the end I was able to ask questions, and the sensei gave me to understand that the spiritual aspect was crucial to the true nature of aikido and that without it the practice would be purely physical, much as yoga has become decoupled from Hinduism.  Though Ueshiba had taken inspiration from Shinto, it wasn’t necessary to be a Shintoist as long as one developed one’s spiritual side through self-discipline, honesty and respect for others.

For the final few minutes I had to take the mat and was expected to sit seiza, which unfortunately I can’t do because of an industrial accident damaging my knee bone.  On the whole it’s not a big problem, but in Japan not being able to do seiza has proved a major handicap, effectively debarring me from the tea ceremony for instance.  Did it mean it was impossible for me to do aikido? ‘Muri dewa nai….’ (not impossible) the sensei replied, but left the sentence dangling ominously.

Crosslegged, I was able to engage with one of the group’s members who showed me how to deflect pushes.  I got my first practice in the use of ki, with the admonition I needed to be more ‘sunao’ (honest, receptive).  It was something to do with harnessing the natural flow of energy.  After being thrown off-balance a few times with a flick of the wrist, I suddenly realised something: those guys in the demonstration sessions weren’t faking at all!!

The relationship of aikido to Shinto is a fascinating subject and raises the issue of Shinto’s influence on martial arts in general.  But that is a matter for a separate post… .

Mystery object: the soul of Soga no Umako

Inside the tomb of Soga no Umako

After communing with Emperor Jimmu at Kashihara Jingu, I went to see the ancient rock tomb of Ishi Butai not far away. Inside the tomb I was taking a picture when a friend took a picture of me. Down in the righthand corner appears a round disc of light. What on earth can it be? It certainly wasn’t any object in the tomb, so it could only be one of two things: a marvellous piece of trick light effects by a digital camera, or the soul of Soga no Umako (551?-626), who was buried in the tomb. In Japanese tama is ball but is also a homonym for spirit (as in tamashii) and I’ve been told that traditionally in China souls are thought to be round and bright!  Apparently there are many ghost stories or films where the soul comes whirling out after people, borne along by the wind….  I’ve also read that this is the traditional Shinto view of the soul too. ‘They may move in the air in the shape of balls shining in the darkness,’ says Joseph Spae in Shinto Man page 37. Spooky!

Timothy Takemoto of the Shinto mailing list blew up the disc, and below, amazingly, is what the soul actually looks like close up….  Wow, the colours!  Maybe the psychedelic movement of the 1960s had it right all along….

 

Shinto: The Way Home

‘Shinto: The Way Home’ by Thomas P. Kasulis  US: Univ of Hawaii Press,  2004 184 pages, medium size.  ISBN 0-8248-2850-X   $15.00

Kasulis is a philosopher.  Yet his book is free of jargon and far from being ‘difficult’.  The result is an overview of Shinto that is often informative and sometimes thought-provoking.  One of the ideas is that the torii gateway shows us ‘the way home’ and that there is something in the religion that resonates within all of us, regardless of race.  A little under half the book is devoted to history, particularly the ‘nativism’ of the eighteenth century when Motoori Morinaga and Hirata Atsutane laid the foundation for modern Shinto.   The author’s thesis is that the history reflects a tension between ‘existential’ and ‘essential’ belief: the former is a non-reflective description of values, whereas the latter is more ‘political’ in being explicit and clearly stated.  According to Kasulis, Shinto has vacillated between the two poles, and in a sense the tension is still playing itself out in Jinja Honcho (Association of Shrines) where there is debate about how far to pin down doctrine and beliefs to be more like a ‘normal’ religion.

Summary: Not essential reading, but certainly a worthwhile read for anyone wanting to reflect on the nature of Shinto.

Kami no Michi by Yukitaka Yamamoto

‘Kami no Michi; The way of the Kami’ by Yukitaka Yamamoto  USA: Tsubaki
America, 1987  124 pages, small size.  ISBN 1880656663.  Second hand about $10.00

This autobiography by the 96th head of Tsubaki Jinja is of interest because of his vital role in the spread of Shinto to America.  Though out of print, it is available online:

http://www.tsubakishrine.org/kaminomichi/index.html

The account tells of a remarkable life.  Though Yamamoto was not brought up to be a priest, he assumed leadership of the ancient shrine after the death of his elder brother and twin.  This followed his involvement in WW2: of the 2,200 men in his mission, only 12 survived.  When he took over the ancient Tsubaki shrine, it was in bad shape.  At a time when he could not afford a return fare to Tokyo, he embarked on raising Y150 million for reconstruction.  Miraculously he succeeded. Years of devotion and the practice of misogi brought him to

Yukitaka Yamamoto

realisation of deep truths.  One was a desire to further harmony with others, including his former enemy the US.  This was fired by a belief that Izanagi and Izanami did not create just Japan, but the world at large.  Amongst the principles he outlines is Kannagara – acting in communion with nature – and Sanmi-Sangen, based on a three-fold understanding of life.  He also stresses the practice of misogi and daily offerings to the kamidana.  A foreword by Stuart Picken pays tribute to a charismatic man with the gift of second sight  who ‘saw’ the death of both his elder brother and twin.

Summary: Valuable for those concerned with the spread of Shinto overseas.

A Year in the Life of a Shinto Shrine

‘A Year in the Life of a Shinto Shrine’ by John K. Nelson  US: Univ of  Washington, 1996 286 pages.  ISBN 0-295-97500-8  $17.50

The author teaches anthropology and religion (formerly Univ of Texas, now Univ of San Francisco).  Yet the book is free of academic jargon and is written in a clear manner with a lot of human interest.  It centres on Suwa Shrine in Nagasaki, with chapters about the history, the head priest, the set-up, the main festivals, and some of the rites. There is a variety of approach, including a subjective impression of what priests may be thinking or feeling.  Though the viewpoint is that of an outsider, it is concerned to convey both the sentiment behind the rituals and the significance in community terms.  The narrative takes a bemused stance at times (Where do the impurities being swept away go exactly?), but gets serious when Nelson addresses the right-wing leanings of Shinto and the revived nationalism of recent years.  In all, there is much interesting information on a miscellany of topics, ranging from the symbolism of rice to the rise of shinjinrui (new types of human) in postwar society.

Summary: A book for those wanting to learn in more detail about the life of priests and what part shrines play in Japanese life.

View from Suwa Jinja over Nagasaki

 

Kurama and Kibune

On Sunday I went with the Japan Foundation to visit two places of note on the hills to the north of Kyoto – Kibune Shrine and Kurama Temple.  The former is famous as one of the oldest and most venerable Shinto shrines; the latter as a power spot where Reiki was invented and where the warrior Yoshitsune was trained to fight by tengu monsters.

Tengu at Kurama

At Kurama Temple we were given a talk by the head priest, a lively eighty-year old woman.  She spoke of the preciousness of nature in the surroundings of the temple, saying that the lifeforce was evident, that it was clear everything had its place and purpose, and that the cycle of life produced a sense of reverence.  Like a net, all is connected and teaches us respect for others and the need for coexistence.  It struck me that her talk could well have been given by a Shinto priest!

The life force on Kurama hill

From Kurama we walked through snow flurries over the hilltop to the village of Kibune.  The shrine is sadly under reconstruction, but we were entertained in the priest’s quarters to a talk by the priest (I understood his name to be Miki which seems a curious coincidence given that ‘omiki‘ is the sacred sake of Shinto).

Kibune is one of the oldest shrines in Japan, more than 1600 years old.  The most startling  thing the priest said was that it was the place where ema (votive tablets) originated.  The emperor used to offer to the shrine a white horse for fair weather and a black horse for rain, but the practice transmuted over time into the offering of ema instead.

In his talk the priest said that Shinto has three main characteristics: 1) harmony with nature;  2) tolerance;  3) ancestor worship.  In terms of nature, he pointed out that  the original shrines were the forests.  As for ancestors, he said that they can be regarded as a kind of kami because they gave us the gift of life – a godlike creation.  Shinto’s tolerance, he said, was due to its polytheism and readiness to embrace other kami or deities.  Rather than one all-mighty kami, there were many who could coexist harmoniously with each having its own role.  Therefore people should visit shrines housing kami governing the aspects of life with which they are concerned.  Kibune for example houses Okami governing the cycle of water and weather conditions (there is a separate kami for water itself).

Sacred water

Important qualities for Shinto he said were purity, integrity, and fun (!).  He also said that whereas Buddhism was for individual salvation, Shinto was for the communal good.

I asked him about the founding of the shrine, and he told us of the legend of Princess Tamayori in the time of the 18th emperor who came up river from Osaka as far as the source of the Kamo River and stopped where the spring bubbled up out of the ground.  The shrine was built at that point to mark the mysterious gift of water.  It is a place to seek a good relationship (i.e. marriage) because of the unifying nature of water.

Finally, he told of how the hillside water was guarded by a deity called Gyuki, who was very talkative and inadvertently disclosed the secrets of Heaven.  As a result Kibune is very conscious of the use of words, and of always paying attention to what one says.  He quoted a Japanese proverb along the lines of ‘You should save your words’.

I’ve said too much already!

 

The Three Imperial Regalia (Sanshu no Jingi)

The Imperial Family is identified with three sacred objects — the mirror, sword and curved jewel, or magatama.  According to mythology, they were handed by Amaterasu, the sun goddess, to Ninigi when he descended from heaven and then passed along the imperial line.  Historically, however, when exactly the three objects became symbols of the emperor’s family is not clear.  They were already important religious symbols by the Middle Yayoi Period, and are abundant in the tombs of the Kofun Period.  At some point they coalesced to indicate supreme authority.  Now the mirror is supposedly in Ise Jingu, the sword at Atsuta Jinja and the magatama in the imperial palace in Tokyo.

The Three Sacred Treasures (photo courtesy of cyber shrine)

 

Bronze mirror (reverse side)

The roots of the mirror lie in China. Han Chinese mirrors were common in northwestern Kyushu by Middle Yayoi, though these were preceded by mirrors from Korea a bit earlier.  It might have been simply a talisman to ward off evil.  Mirrors were a major burial object in Kofun Period tombs, especially the earlier ones, but they were not necessarily associated with the other symbols.  It is not known whether the ideas surrounding the mirror were imported from the continent together with the mirror, or whether the Yayoi people simply saw the mirror as a useful symbol for ideas they already had.  At any rate in the Yamato age it became associated with the supreme goddess, Amaterasu, ancestor of the emperor.

 

Yayoi sword

The sword (or weapon) would seem to be a symbol of male virility with origins in the stone phallic symbols of Jomon times.  By late Jomon the symbols looked more like stone swords than phalluses.  Bronze swords and spears were imported from Korea from the end of the Early Yayoi period.  Later ritual forms of the weapons were manufactured in Japan and are common in Yayoi sites — spears in northwestern Kyushu and swords in western Honshu and Shikoku.  Swords are common in Kofun Period burials, especially the later ones.  In Europe too they were symbols of spiritual authority (think of Excalibur), and Mircea Eliade has written of the religious significance of metal to early humans as a precious gift from a livinig earth.

 

The magatama’s origins are more controversial. These curved jewels of jadeite are common in Kofun Period burials, and are common also in Korean sites of the same age.  This fact seems to have led archaeologists to conclude that the magatama originated in Korea. but magatama are found in Yayoi sites, too.  No one seems to know what the shape represents exactly, but It is said to represent the soul.  Tama in Japanese means jewel or ball, but originally also meant soul (as in tamashi, the Japanese word for soul or spirit).  Some people say it’s a reduction of yin-yang to a single element, as if to signify the most basic element of life.  I asked a leading archaeologist at my university about it, and he told me something rather surprising – he suspects it represents a hook, to ‘hook evil’ as it were.  In other words a Yayoi era omamori!  Look at the magatama in the bottom row below and you can see what he means…

Magatama collection at Kokugakuin University Museum

 

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