Tag: Spirituality (Page 1 of 2)

Japan by Train 23: Iki Island

For those interested in Shinto, Iki is a very special island. Palm trees and a Shinto torii greet visitors, and a welcome poster announces that this is ‘the island of kami’. A brochure promoting the island even claims that here lies the origin of Shinto. I was fortunate in my visit in that a Canadian friend Chad Kohalyk was living on the island and kindly offered to drive me around. He proved an excellent guide.

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The next day Chad had devised a custom-made tour for me. First and foremost was the island’s prime attraction, Monkey Rock. No prizes for guessing why. In fact the likeness was uncanny. Shaped by wind and salt water, the creature looks pensively towards the horizon, as if contemplating the future of monkeykind. It would make the perfect prop for Planet of the Apes. There is something too of King Kong in the formidable size, for it stands on a vertical piece of cliff that rises a massive twenty-five meters from the sea.

Nature’s artwork here reminded me of the large shamanic rock overlooking Seoul, which resembles a monk casting a protective eye over the city. On the slopes around it worshippers pray directly to the rock face. Sacred rock in Japan has long intrigued me, for it forms the essence of ancient Shinto. Most of the major shrines in the country originated with worship of a numinous rock (iwakura), yet curiously there is almost nothing written about it. The standard book on Shinto, by Ono Sokyo, does not contain a single mention of rocks. It is puzzling, but over the years I have pieced together my own understanding.

For ancient humans rock stood for permanence, in contrast to vegetation which was perishable. Humans were impermanent of course, but on death their spirit was thought to live on forever. Rocks were therefore associated with the dead, and came to be seen as a vessel into which spirits could enter. In other words they were physical containers for what was intangible and invisible, which is why they were revered as ‘spirit-bodies’ (goshintai).

Inari style torii tunnel. Iki island is full of atmospheric shrines.

Sacred rocks are particularly prominent along the ancient migration route leading from Korea to northern Kyushu, then along the fringes of the Inland Sea to the Yamato heartland in Nara. Since Korea had a formative influence on early religion in Japan, and since Korean shamanism derives from Siberia, it struck me that in prehistoric times Shinto-style shamanism too would have its origins there.

One day, while internet surfing, a picture popped up on my screen of an outcrop on the edge of Lake Baikal. My heart leapt up, and the minute I saw it, I knew with absolute certainty that I had to go there. It was located on the island of Olkhon in the middle of the lake, and contained a sacred cave venerated by the Buryat Mongols as the origin of shamanism. That summer I flew to Siberia, and sat on a slope overlooking the cave, which it was forbidden to enter. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind, and as I pondered the scene thoughts coursed through my mind. Could it be that within the dark mystery of the vaginal opening lay the origin of Japanese rock worship?

Shaman’s Rock in Lake Baikal

In shamanic thinking distinctive features are an indication of spiritual power. The leading shaman at Lake Baikal has six fingers, and in Japan rocks with striking shapes are attributed to divine creation. So I asked Chad if there was any evidence of rituals being conducted at the Monkey Rock, hoping for support for my shamanic theory. Disappointingly he replied, ’Not as far as I know,’ and though he had been to meetings of Iki’s official guides, there had been no mention of any religious connection.

There are over 1000 shrines in Iki, testimony to the very real presence of kami in the island life. You get the feeling that here is the true soul of Shinto, rooted in folk belief rather than the top-down imperial Shinto set up by the Meiji government. Iki shrines speak to a tradition of animism, and as we drove around the island the bond with nature was everywhere apparent.

Kojima island, with the torii immersed in water, though at low tide one can walk across

Some of the shrines are very special. Take Kojima Shrine, for instance, which stands on a small island and is only accessible at low tide. It has one of those evocative torii at the water’s edge, whose pillars are submerged by the incoming tide. It represents immersion in the life-force, as if to remind us of cosmic powers beyond our control. Or take Sai Jinja’s large wooden phallus which stands erect before the Worship Hall. Though demonised by Christianity, the male organ is here a powerful force for good, promoting fertility, conjugal harmony, easy childbirth, and protection from sexual disease.

The three monkeys, with a difference. Fertility symbols were a common feature of worship until the Meiji reforms decided they were an embarrassment and largely did away with them.

Japan by Train 20: Hagi

This series of extracts are spiritually related material culled from a longer account of travelling the length of Japan, from Wakkanai in the far north to Ibusuki in south Kyushu. The journey took three months in all, and one of the highlights was my discovery of the charms of Hagi, famous for its pottery. In this case, spirituality is linked with Japan’s dedication to craftsmanship.

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Masanori and the kiln he built

‘The first time I took an interest was in Paris, when my cafe au lait was served in a handmade mug. I thought, that’s artistic, that’s attractive. It made the coffee taste special.’

Masanori was talking, a forty-eight year old potter with an unusual life story. Unlike the hereditary lineages whose families have been potters for centuries, he was a vocational potter who had to struggle to survive. After university he took a job as a documentary cameraman, but there was a yearning for something different. One day he woke up and knew with absolute certainty he was going to be a potter. He was twenty-seven, an age at which in Japan’s unforgiving career structure a person’s fate is often sealed. But for Masanori there was not the slightest doubt.

‘Pottery raises the human spirit. It is not just something for use, not just an object. It is organic, with its own character, and feel, and history. Once I sensed that, I couldn’t forget it.’

The light in his eyes showed that he still resonated with a youthful passion. It had moved him to drop his job and get apprenticed to Saka Kouraizaemon, a 12th generation potter whose family were descended from a Korean immigrant in the early seventeenth century. As in Zen and the tea ceremony, lineages matter.

The hereditary principle in Japan means more than just blood and DNA; it means being steeped from birth in the family business. It remains an important element in Shinto. You can see it most clearly in kabuki, where child-heirs appear on stage not long after they have learnt to walk. The principle is so rooted in the artistic and religious worlds that it survived the imposition of democracy after World War Two and continues to be widely accepted today. The emperor system is the supreme example.

As an outsider, Masanori had to start from scratch, meaning a low salary and menial jobs like packing or preparing clay. When his master died after just four years, he survived on low wages by working for a pottery company, all the while aiming to be independent – tough when Hagi alone has over 100 potters competing for a limited market.

‘How did you go about setting up on your own?’ I asked.
‘At first I rented a climbing kiln, which I worked on in my spare time, but there was a problem with firing it so I decided to make my own. It took a long time to find suitable land, and luckily there was an old house nearby in bad condition which we renovated.’
‘It looks good,’ I said, looking around at the renovated walls and neatly arranged shelves.
‘Thank you. It took a lot of time.’
‘How about the pottery?’
‘Well, I decided something crazy. I decided to make a traditional kiln. It is very difficult and took two years. That’s why no one does that any more. People called me “crazy potter”!’

Many modern kilns are automatically fired, using electricity. The traditional kiln, fired by wood, is not only less controllable, but needs more time and money to set up. By some estimates there are only around fifty in Japan. Though Masanori was told his idea was impractical, it simply made him more determined. Fortunately there was one person who supported him, emotionally and practically – Izumi, his devoted wife.

To make his kiln, Masanori needed a suitable piece of land, which was no easy task because of safety standards. It took a while, but eventually he found somewhere. Then the hard work began. First he cut down trees and cleared the vegetation. A professional was hired to do the levelling of the ground, and a professional carpenter constructed the roof. The climbing kiln was built with the help of a specialist team of three from Kyushu, possibly the last of their type, following which Masanori did the chimney and extended the roof on his own.

There had been several setbacks, but finally the big day arrived when the kiln was fired for the first time. It was a success. It lasted twenty-eight hours, during which he had no sleep because of the constant need to add wood (roughly every fifteen minutes). The result was the production of 1000 pieces. At the age of forty-seven Masanori’s dream had come true. It must have been a great feeling? ‘Yes,’ he said with a big smile. ‘It took a long time.’

Contrary to the popular image, shaping clay at the wheel is but a fraction of a potter’s work. It takes three minutes to shape a vessel; it takes months to prepare for a firing. Apart from the mixing of clay and preparation for the glaze, the traditional kiln necessitates masses and masses of wood. Where did it all come from?


‘Old houses and wood from timber merchants,’ he told me.
‘Why were you so determined to have a traditional kiln?’
‘Because the pottery is true,’ Masanori said. ‘It has more character, more colour and texture. Modern kilns are too controlled, so pieces look similar.’
‘What do you think makes Hagi pottery different from other styles?’
‘It is soft texture, plain, because it is fired at a lower temperature. The earth here makes it a reddish orange. It was made for the tea ceremony, for special occasions.’
‘And the glaze?’
‘Transparent, white. To show the colour of the clay. The white is from burnt rice straw. Sometimes it has a purple tint. Heat, amount of oxygen, position in the kiln, all can change the colour.’
‘Your pottery looks very traditional. Was that your intention?’
‘Yes, it’s strange. I am from outside but I try to keep Hagi tradition. But potters from Hagi, especially young ones, they want something new. For example, they sometimes add painting.’

Masanori and Izumi now run their own business, called Makino Hagiyaki Studio, which emphasises the product’s rootedness in Hagi. Masanori digs part of the clay himself, and the wood is sourced locally. He may not have been born here, but the pottery is Hagi through and through. ‘We believe that there exists an ethereal beauty in the traditional and simple Hagi pottery,’ states the Makino website.

Izumi offers me some green tea in one of her husband’s cups and tells me that because of the soft texture the liquid seeps into the cracks of the glaze. With the passage of time it affects the colour, and tea masters appreciate the nanabake (seven levels of change) acquired over long years of use. In this way the consumer shares in the creation. ‘When you drink, you too are adding to the colour,’ Izumi said, and the tea took on an extra tang.

The hours with Masanori and his wife had been edifying and transformed my view of pottery. I saw it now as a quest for perfection, as much a spiritual pursuit as a craft. As I looked at the cup I was drinking from, I thought of all the dedication and personal investment that had gone into it. ’Follow your bliss,’ said Joseph Campbell. It felt a privilege to meet someone who so thoroughly had.

Home-made shop display of the finished ‘Hagi-yaki’. To visit their website, click here.

What is Shinto?

Six Different Paradigms

In a paper delivered at the University of Oslo, Aike Rots considered the vexing question of defining Shinto and came up with six different concepts. It is one of the best and clearest overviews that Green Shinto has seen. The following is extracted from his lecture, with added paragraphing and bold font for emphasis. (For those who would like to see the original, please click here.)

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Aike Rots, Shinto researcher
(photos by John Dougill)

Aike Rots writes: In some ways, defining Shinto is even more difficult than defining Christianity, Islam or Buddhism. Those three religions all somehow trace their own history back to a legendary historical founder  –  Jesus, Muhammad or Gautama Buddha  –  and to the period in which this person lived. But when it comes to Shinto, there is very little consensus about when this religion started.

Famously, Shinto has no single founder, and it is not easy to trace it to one single period in history. Some argue that it is has existed since ‘time immemorial’; according to one of most famous and widely read English-language introductions, it is the Japanese ‘native racial faith which arose in the mystic days of remote antiquity’ (Ono 1962, 1).

Among Shinto  intellectuals, there is disagreement over the question whether the tradition goes back to the worship practices of hunter- gatherers in the Jōmon period (30,000 -300 BCE) or to those of  Yayoi-period rice farmers (300 BCE-300 CE). Many serious historians think the tradition was shaped much later, under the influence of Chinese ideology and rituals, and of Buddhism: in the Nara period (8th century), according to some; in the late-medieval period, according to others; or even in the 18th or 19th  century, as a modern invented tradition (e.g., Kuroda 1981).

In any case, it is important to realise that there is a difference between two things. On the one hand, there is the historical reality of shrine worship, of the worship of local deities (kami) by means of ritual sacrifice and prayers (norito ). These worship practices have always been characterised by great local diversity, constant change, and continuous interaction with Buddhism, Confucianism and Chinese cosmology and ritual. On the other hand, there is the abstract concept ‘Shinto’, conceptualised as a single and singular tra- dition, which symbolically unifies the Japanese people as a nation and which is often seen as intimately connected with the imperial institution.

Imperial burial mounds are sacred places

This is different from most insiders’ interpretations, and from most popular introductions to Shinto, which usually assert that Shinto is the indigenous religious tradition of Japan –  singular, ancient, uniquely Japanese, and with an unchanging core essence. That is why I call these approaches ‘essentialist’.  

In my dissertation, I have distinguished between six different paradigms, according to which Shinto has been conceptualised, defined and shaped in the course of modern history. The first of these was dominant from the second half of the nineteenth century until the end of the Second World War, but it still lingers on. According to this view, Shinto is a national ritual cult focused on the worship of the divine ancestors of the imperial family; it was seen not as a religion defined by belief and personal membership, but as a collective Japanese, non-religious ritual tradition in which all citizens should take part. I have called this the ‘imperial paradigm’.   

After the Second World War, this imperial ritual and ideological system (which is often referred to as ‘State Shinto ’) was dismantled; Shinto was subsequently established legally and politically as a religion. Accordingly, it was privatised, and it had to be redefined. According to the dominant post-war view, Shinto is the ancient, singular Way of ‘the’ Japanese people; it is an ethnic, racial faith, shared by all Japanese in the present and the past, by virtue of their nationality.  According to this view, Shinto encompasses the realm of religion, but it is much more than that: it is the essence of Japanese culture and mentality. As such, it is public and collective, not private or individual. Ono Sokyō, whom I quoted previously, is a representative of this paradigm. It has long been the view of many shrine priests. I call this the ‘ethnic paradigm’.  

There are several alternative views, however. One of these is the ‘local paradigm’. It goes back to the work of the Japanese ethnologist Yanagita Kunio, who wrote most of his works before the war; in recent years, it seems to have acquired new popularity. Proponents of this paradigm challenge the focus on the imperial tradition, and of national unity, that characterises the other two. According to them, the essence of Shinto cannot be found in powerful institutions; but, on the contrary, in local, rural worship traditions and beliefs, which have nearly disappeared. ‘Real Shinto’, according to them, can be found in the shamanistic and animistic traditions of the countryside –  accordingly, they profess a nostalgic desire for a nearly-lost rural Japan, characterised by social harmony and harmony with nature. This is the image of the popular film character Totoro, living in a grove near an old farmhouse, in a beautiful rural landscape (satoyama, as it is called in Japanese).

Totoro, from the Miyazaki Hayao film

In all these paradigms, Shinto is intimately connected with the land of Japan. But there is an alternative paradigm, which has also been around since the pre-war period, and which I call the ‘universal paradigm’. According to this view, Shinto may have emerged in Japan, but it is essentially a salvation religion, which has the potential to reach out to  –   and maybe even save  –   the rest of the world. This view is characteristic of many membership-based groups, so-called ‘ new religious movements ’ , which define themselves as Shinto. The aforementioned Yamakage Shinto is one of many examples. In recent years, this view has also been advocated by a number of Shinto priests outside of Japan, who have established shrines elsewhere  –   two well-known non-Japanese shrines are located in the state of Washington (US) and in Amsterdam. The last one, interestingly, was founded by a priest trained in the Yamakage tradition.

Paul de Leeuw at the Yamakage Shinto Saigu in Amsterdam

There is some overlap with the fifth paradigm, which I call the ‘spiritual paradigm’. I think it is worth distinguishing between these two, as not all proponents of the spiritual paradigm have an international agenda; some are downright nationalist. Simply put, according to advocates of this view, Shinto is a religion without doctrine, a primordial worship tradition; it can only be truly grasped intuitively, by means of a mystical experience of the divine, not intellectually. Politics, theology, philosophy  –   it is all peripheral, according to this view. (So basically this whole story shows that I have never really understood Shinto, because otherwise I would have argued that Shinto does have a core essence, but that this essence cannot be grasped in words.) Similar arguments can be found in other religious traditions, and they are often used as a strategy to discredit criticism – by suggesting that critics are ‘unenlightened’, for instance .

Universal and environmental?

Last but not least, in recent decades, a sixth paradigm has emerged  –  and it is this paradigm that has constituted the main focus of my dissertation. I have called this ‘the Shinto environmentalist paradigm’. It draws on the previous paradigms  –   in particular, I would say, the local paradigm, but also on the universal. In addition, it is influenced by the global trend to relate religious worldviews to environmental issues. Put simply, according to this paradigm Shinto is an ancient tradition of nature worship  –  sometimes called ‘animism’ –  characterised by respect for nature and the belief that elements of nature are sacred. This tradition, it is suggested, constitutes the foundation of the social-ecological equilibrium allegedly characteristic of ancient Japanese societies. Proponents of this view typically argue that Japan’s current environmental problems are the consequence of the fact that the Japanese people have ‘forgotten’ this tradition  –   or so the argument goes. Therefore, in order to solve these problems, they should relearn and re-embrace the nature worship of their ancestors. This is not just important for Japan, some of them add, but may actually serve to teach the world how to live in harmony with nature.

Advocates of these ideas argue that similar ‘animistic’, pagan traditions have existed all over the world, but unfortunately, most of them have by and large disappeared and given way to monotheistic traditions, which are blamed for justifying the exploitation of the natural environment. So according to proponents of this Shinto environmentalist paradigm, the answer to [the] question would be: most certainly, yes, Shinto does offer a viable model for environmental sustainability.

The Mitarashi Stream flows through Shimogamo Shrine and into the Tadasu no mori woods.

Free spirits and power spots

Photos by John Dougill

On a recent visit to the charming town of Tomonoura I was delighted to come across an alternative to mainstream Shinto in the form of the two ladies pictured above. It happened at a so-called ‘power spot’ on the island of Sensuijima, a ten-minute ferry ride from the Tomonoura port.

Because of the power spot boom in recent years, it is not uncommon these days to come across places advertising themselves as power spots, as in the poster below. Though it proudly proclaims Sensui Island to be a ‘powerspot’, the main image is of leisure activities. It shows how the spiritual frisson of ‘a powerspot’ gives an extra dimension to sightseeing attractions.

While walking around the attractive coastline of the island, I came across two females playing music on a sandy beach. They were facing out to sea and I recognised from the sound of the flute that they were playing music for the kami. What I didn’t recognise was one of the instruments – a handmade kinderharp, so I took the opportunity to ask about it (see top picture).

It turned out that one of the women was from Nara and the other from Izumo, and that they shared an interest in spiritual matters. This was of their own devising, based on intuitive response to place and person.

On this occasion the two women had come to Sensui Island because the island had the same kind of rock as Nushima, the small island off Awajijima where the primal pair of Izanagi and Izanami are said to have descended in the origin myth of Japan. (See here for details.)

Having sensed a spiritual power on Nushima, the women had learnt that Sensui Island had the same kind of rock formation and were exploring whether there was a similar energy. And to aid them in their endeavour, they were beseeching the kami of place to favour their cause by offering music on flute and harp.

Power spot Sensuijima, seen from the ferry boat to Tomonoura

When talk turned to the transmission of energy, one of the women claimed to have special ‘hand power’. She performed a brief healing ceremony by holding her hand over my heart while her friend played a musical accompaniment. It had a calming effect, and I felt a strange kind of internal warmth.

Being socially conservative, Japan is often thirty or more years behind the West in emerging fashions (smoking, gay rights and vegetarianism provide examples). The activities of the two women not only spoke to a New Age influence, but recalled the search for authenticity by the hippies of the 1960s who turned to standing stones and ancient sites – ‘power spots’.

But quite apart from the Western borrowings, I couldn’t help feeling that there was here too a throwback to the ancient Japanese tradition of direct communication with the kami by ‘miko’ shamans. As in the past, the women represent an unconventional and unregulated form of spiritual practice that is threatening to the male guardians of authority. It helps explain why the Association of Shrines is wary of endorsing the phenomenon of power spots. Clearly it is out of step with the ‘invented tradition’ of post-Meiji Shrine Shinto, with its emperor-centred policies and nationalistic leanings.

For those of us in search of communion with nature through heightened consciousness, the women offer a living alternative to the fossilised rituals of orthodoxy. They embody indeed an inspiring example of an independent search for truth conducted outside the narrow perimeters of religious dogma and prescription.

Here were free spirits on a power spot pilgrimage. It was a most liberating encounter.

Sacred Benten Island, en route to Sensui, dedicated fittingly to the female deity of music, creativity and the arts

Shugendo training

In the past five years, due to the rise in tourism there have been tremendous changes in Japan’s traditional culture. Aspects of the culture that were insular and hard for foreigners to fathom are increasingly opening up and advertising in English. This includes the geisha world here in Kyoto, along with Zen meditation and other Buddhist practices.

Like many traditions, Shugendo (mountain asceticism) was said to be in decline in recent times, but it seems that it too is turning to foreigners and spiritual tourism as a source of reinvigoration. Thanks to Green Shinto supporter Jann Williams, we have learnt recently of foreign participation in pilgrimages. Now comes news of five day and two day courses run in English.

For the webpage, please click here. The price for the five day course described below is not disclosed, but we are informed that it does not come cheap!

Full five-day experience that takes place on all three of the Dewa Sanzan: Mt. Haguro, Mt. Gassan, and Mt.Yudono. Includes waterfall meditation. Only limited places available.

Day 1 “Disconnection”

An opportunity to disconnect from the everyday world in preparation for your adventure. Connect to your inner self in an ancient Japanese monastery.

Day 2 – 4 Authentic Yamabushi practice

Day 5 “Post-Yamabushi Restoration”

Feel the sense of universe at the Yamabushi territory in the Sea of Japan.


Training Locations

Mt. Haguro, Mt. Gassan and Mt. Yudono, the three Dewa Mountains, considered highly sacred in Japanese culture. Traditionally and among select groups today, Dewa Sanzan is a unique hub of animistic Shinto and Buddhist fusion, where different forms of Japanese spirituality blend into one.

They represent the past, the present, and the future.

Mt. Gassan is the mountain for the souls of the dead. It is the highest of the three sacred mountains. It represents the past, the things that we want to let go of.

Mt. Haguro represents the present. The Haguro hike climbs 2,446 stone steps, which pilgrims have walked for more than 1,000 years.

Mt. Yudono represents the future, and the possibility of new potential after rebirth, and casting off the past.

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Mt. Haguro, stone steps
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Schedule

5 days, 4 nights

Schedule in 2018

(3 times a year only)

July 9-13
August 6-10
September 3-7

Other options are available. Feel free to contact us.


Master Hoshino

All Yamabushido Programs are supervised by Master Hoshino, a famous local Yamabushi priest, and the 13th generation of his family to follow this vocation. Master Hoshino lives in and runs Daishōbō, a pilgrim lodge located at the foot of Mt. Haguro.

He has dedicated his life to living as a Yamabushi, introducing many people from all over the world to its mystical power.

His approach to the Yamabushi tradition is grounded in deep tradition, but also made deeply relevant to the way we live our lives today.

* Master Hoshino may not be present with the group throughout the whole program

Accommodation

We provide accommodation at Daishōbō pilgrim lodge at the foothills of Dewa Mountains.

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Daishōbō Entrance

Day 1 Cozy western-style single room
Day 2-3 Daishōbō pilgrim lodge
Day 4 Yudono-an or Tamaya in Yutagawa Onsen

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Yudono-an
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Meals

On the first day, you will eat a simple meal at Zenpōji Temple and a smaller dinner to ready you for proper Shugyō training that begins the next day.

Day two to Day four is proper Shugyō training, and the meal for Shugyō training is very simple; rice, Miso soup, and small pickles.

Please be aware that allergy free meals will not be available at Zenpōji Temple and during Shugyō

On the fourth day, there is a special lunch with hand-made Shojin Cuisine and local Sake made by the landlady of Daishōbō. Please be aware that allergy free meals will not be available during Shugyō unless specially requested. The meals will include rice, miso paste (soybeans and rice), Tofu, Seaweed, Japanese herbs, mushrooms, and Fu (wheat gluten). Allergy free meal will be available.

On the fifth day, we will have a more substantial meal of meat, fish, or vegetables to help you adjust back to normal life.

Please be aware that we cannot change the content of the meals at Zenpoji Temple or during Shugyo Training. Feel free to leave behind things that you cannot eat.

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Limited meals will be served during the Training..
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Transportation Service

To / From Shonai Airport or Tsuruoka Station is included.


Minimum amount for running a program

1 people (Maximum : 20 people)


Price

make an inquiry


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Shugendo on Mt Ontake

Green Shinto follower Jann Williams, who is researching about the use of the five elements in Japan, has kindly allowed us to use her latest posting from her website, elementaljapan. We are grateful to her for the following insight into the particular type of shamanistic Shugendo practised on one of Japan’s most famous sacred mountains.

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Shugendo now – a winter pilgrimage on Mt Ontake, Japan

Mt Ontake is a sacred mountain 100 km northeast of Nagoya on the border of Nagano and Gifu Prefectures. At 3067 m it is the second highest volcano in Japan, after Mt Fuji. Pilgrimages to worship Mt Ontake and seek spiritual enlightenment have been made for centuries and continue today.

On 23-24 January 2018 I joined a winter pilgrimage on Ontakesan with the Wani-ontakesan community, led by three Shugendo masters. Undertaking ascetic practices on the mountain in extreme conditions reinforced that we are part of nature and the universe. Sharing this experience with others and hearing the word of Gods and ancestors through a medium – a hallmark of Mt Ontake worship – was profound and empowering.

The rituals and prayers associated with the pilgrimage were a sign of deep respect and reverence for Mt Ontake and its Gods, and the ancestors memorialised on its volcanic slopes. This transformative experience deepened my understanding and appreciation of the elements in Japan and Japanese culture. It is a pleasure to share my impressions of the two days spent with this remarkable community of faith.

Mt Ontake viewed from Mt Hakobuto. Unlike Mt Fuji the volcano is currently active, most recently erupting without warning in 2014. Many lives were lost and the mountain top is now out of bounds to pilgrims and hikers. The eruption is a reminder of the elemental forces that continue to actively shape Japan. Source: Wikipedia Commons

Shugendo has been practiced on Mt Ontake for centuries. It is a highly syncretic and ancient religion found only in Japan. Shugendo practices and teachings draw on Shinto, Esoteric Buddhism, Taoism and shamanism, and the rituals incorporate both godai (the five Buddhist elements) and gogyo (the five Chinese elements). Nature and the elements are a fundamental part of the religion and way of life of the practitioners who seek spiritual power and enlightenment through ascetic training in the mountains. My first experience with a major Shugendo ceremony was at Kinpusenji in Yoshino in July 2016. It made a deep impression that is recorded in the post Fire up, Water downGoing from an observer of a ceremony there, to participating in a pilgrimage on Mt Ontake, took my understanding and appreciation of Shugendo to another level.

Until the late 1700s, Mt Ontake was the exclusive reserve of Shugendo ascetics who undertook severe austerities before their annual pilgrimage.  Around this time two ascetics – Kakumei and Fukan – opened pilgrimage paths on Mt Ontake. These are referred to as the Kurosawa and Otaki routes, respectively. By opening access for lay people to Ontakesan the nature of worship changed, leading to the formation of numerous and widespread pilgrim groups (kou). Fukan was a great Shugendo master and has special significance for Wani-ontakesan. The Mt Ontake faith they practice differs from Ontakekyo, a Shinto sect with which other pilgrim groups are associated.

A kakejiku (hanging scroll) of Mt Ontake. Source: Doukan Okamoto

In the popular kakejiku shown above, Mt Ontake comes alive as a place of worship and home to the Gods.  At the top of the scroll Kunitokodatai-no-mikoto, Oonamuchi-no-mikoto and Sukunahikona-no-mikoto are represented – these Gods are enshrined at the base of the mountain.  The three main Gods of the mountain are depicted in the middle section with Ontakesan-zaou-daigongen in the centre, Hakkaisan-daidura-jinnou on the right and Mikasayama-touri-tengu on the left. Kakumei and Fukan are shown at the bottom right and left, respectively, either side of Fudo Myoo (‘the Immovable Wisdom King’). On the kakejiku, the latter three figures are shown located around a sacred waterfall, of which there are several on Mt Ontake.

Yasunari (centre), Motoshige (left) and Doukan Okamoto – the Shugendo masters that led the winter pilgrimage.              ( Source: Doukan Okamoto)

Wani-ontakesan made a pilgrimage to Mt Ontake twice a year, in both winter and summer. Winter is considered the more challenging because of the snow and extreme low temperatures. The Okamoto family has been leading the mountain pilgrimages for over 100 years. The head of the family and Wani-ontakesan community, Yasunari Okamoto is shown in the middle of the above image with his sons, Motoshige and Doukan. The brothers are twins and share a strong bond. The symbol on the hachimake (headband) worn by these masters represents Mt Ontake and was designed by Fukan. Motoshige and Doukan are wearing the distinctive clothing of the Shugenja, those who obtain spiritual powers through hardship on the mountains. Each item of clothing is symbolic and has deep meaning. The mudras – energising, symbolic hand gestures – performed by Yusanari, Motoshige and Doukan are an essential and focal element of Shugendo rituals.

Reijinhi (Stone memorials), Mt Ontake. January 2018.

One of the striking features of Mt Ontake found nowhere else in Japan is the stone monuments known as reijinhi. It is estimated that there are over 20,000 of these memorials on Ontakesan. They are the spirit abode of reijin, the title given to ascetic practitioners and devotees of Mt Ontake after they have died. Reijin are an important part of the Wani-ontakesan faith, as they are to other pilgrim groups who visit the mountain. The monument sites have an overwhelming spiritual and mystical ambience during winter. The grey of the reijinhi and deciduous trees, in combination with the white of the snow, directly connects one to nature and is a powerful reminder of the depth and significance of worship at the mountain.

Takigyo, Mt Ontake. January 2017. (Source: Kei Shima).

Both takigyo (waterfall practice) and kangyo (practice in winter) are part of the winter pilgrimage on Mt Ontake. Takigyo is one of the best known ascetic practices associated with Shugendo. It is a form of meditation designed to cleanse the body and mind – one that is not commonly performed in the extremes of winter. Splashing water on your body before standing under the sacred falls, and reciting the Fudo Myoo mantra (an important deity in Shugendo and Esoteric Buddhism) while in them, are components of takigyo on Ontakesan. Seiji Inagaki, who I shared the 2018 pilgrimage with, is shown in the image above standing under the falls reciting the mantra. Doukan and Motoshige Okamoto are present and have their backs to the photographer. Women undertaking the practice wear a white top and pants under the waterfall. Whilst undertaking takigyo I was oblivious to the cold. The combination of the sacred falls, impact of the cascading water on my head, and chanting of the mantra focused my mind and senses exclusively on the moment.

Kurosawa Hakkaisan Shrine, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

A significant ascetic practice during the pilgrimage involved traversing steep terrain in the fresh snow during the day and night to visit spiritual sites. Our first destination was the Shrine dedicated to Hakkaisan, one of the three main Gods of Ontake. A small group of pilgrims prepared the Shrine in advance (image above) by lighting candles and incense and positioning items on the alter to be blessed by the Gods. The offerings included food, drink (sake, beer) and personal items that were subsequently removed.  This practice was repeated elsewhere on the mountain over the course of the pilgrimage. The service at the Shrine included mantras for Hakkaisan Daizura-Sin Nou, Kakumei-Reijin, Ebisu-Ten, Daikoku-ten (Ebisu’s father) and Kobo-Daishi. After the outdoor service was completed we took tea in a nearby hut before moving lower on the mountain.

The spectacular late – afternoon view from Kurosawa Hakkaisan Shrine, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

Shugendo masters Motoshige (left) and Doukan Okamoto, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

Oza, or mediated spirit possession, occurred three times on the pilgrimage beginning on the first evening after the service at Kurosawa Hakkaisan Shrine.  Along with reijin, the trances are considered the defining feature of Mt Ontake worship. The first description of the ritual in English was by Percival Lowell in 1895 in his book on occult Japan. A number of academic treatises and popular articles have been published since that time. Probably the best known coverage is in The Catalpa Bow (1975), a comprehensive study by Carmen Blacker of shamanistic practices in Japan.  Experiencing the ritual first hand, several times, I find has given me a connection that no written words can provide.

Extensive ascetic training was and continues to be undertaken by Motoshige and Doukan to perform the seminal and demanding Oza roles of nakaza (medium) and maeza (who provides vital support), respectively. Motoshige is transformed during these sessions. On the first night the deities who spoke through him were Hakkaisan, one of the main Gods of Ontakesan, and Evisuten. The words of the Gods were received by all Wani-ontakesan followers. The words were heard by all, providing a strong bond between those present. The advice to me related to the soul of my mother Edna who passed away in late December 2017. My feeling is that the intimate spiritual connection between nazaka and maeza is enhanced because of the close twin brother relationship of Motoshige and Doukan. The intensity and effectiveness of the trance and spirit possession I observed was extraordinary.

Otaki Satomiya Shrine, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

Both the Kurosawa and Otaki pilgrimage routes have a Satomiya Shrine at the base of the mountain that acts as a gateway. The stairs in the above image lead to the Otaki Satomiya Shrine where the Gods Kunitokodatai-no-mikoto, Oonamuchi-no-mikoto and Sukunahikona-no-mikoto are enshrined. The first major service on the second day of the pilgrimage was held at the Shrine, led by Yasunari Okamoto. Recitation of mantras and sutras occurred throughout the pilgrimage including chanting the Hogyo-in-Dharani as we walked. The call and response nature of that chant was invigorating and strengthened our connection to Ontakesan.

A small group of pilgrims walked the higher reaches of Mt Ontake on both days. From the left are Noritoshi Nakata, Takao Takenaka (with the black glove), Keiji Okushima, myself, Motoshige Okamoto and Doukan Okamoto. It was Keiji who introduced me to Wani-ontakesan. The friendship and support he and his wife Kaori have shown me has been immeasurable. Seiji Inagaki, who was also part of the group, took the photo.

Shintaki, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

The two kakejiku (hanging scrolls) illustrated in this post reflect the great importance of the sacred waterfalls on Mt Ontake to worshippers. Although most of the water had turned to ice, Shintaki was still flowing during our visit on the second day of the pilgrimage (image above). While walking through fresh snow was hard going at times, especially up challenging terrain (image below), the embodied energy I could feel from the waterfalls, surrounding snow-clad slopes and forest, and my fellow walkers provided much inspiration and sustenance. The mountains and nature are viewed as teachers in Shugendo. There is much to be commended in this belief.

The imposing snow covered stairs to Omata Sansya, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

Prayers at Omata Sansya, Mt Ontake. January 2018.

The final Shrine visited on the pilgrimage was Omata Sansya. In this important place the three main Gods of Mt Ontake are enshrined (image above). Doukan and Motoshige led the prayers to Ontakesan-zao-daigongen (centre God in image), Hakkaisan-daidura-jinnou (God on right) and Mikasayama-touri-tengu on the left. Doukan stated that these Gods show ourselves (Ontake), water (Hakkaisan) and fire (Mikasayama). He also said that Ontakesan-zao-daigongen can change appearance to Fudo Myoo or Marishiten at certain times. My hope is to learn more about these deities and their significance. A number of offerings were presented to the Gods before the service and collected afterwards. These included sacred branches protected in the plastic bags (shown in the above image and illustrated below), that were blessed at each sacred site we visited on the mountain.

Ancient kakejiku showing the three main Gods of Mt Ontake and Fukan.                       Source: Doukan Okamoto

The three main Gods of Mt Ontake are splendidly illustrated in colour across the top of the ancient kakejiku shown above. Fukan is located below them to the right of the scroll. The hanging scroll was painted by his disciple Kouzan. The prominence of the sacred waterfalls in the image is striking. The scrolls act as a window to Mt Ontake, as does the Ofuda shown below. The kakejiku and Ofuda evoke images for pilgrims of their experiences and path to spiritual enlightenment at Mt Ontake.

The Ofuda (left) and Osagiri from my winter pilgrimage on Mt Ontake.

At the end of the pilgrimage I was given one of the sacred branches blessed at each Shrine we visited on Mt Ontake (image above). The branch is called Osagiri or Tessen in Japanese. It is dedicated to meals, foods and snacks for the Gods. As described earlier, the Ofuda acts as a window to the spiritual mountain. Both the Ofuda and Osagiri will be an enduring reminder of my pilgrimage on Mt Ontake.

Late night Karaoke on the return to Wani. Winter 2018.

The Wani-ontakesan community has a strong sense of fellowship formed through the deep and shared reverence for Mt Ontake and the family ancestors. On the pilgrimage I felt very welcome and was included in all activities, including karaoke on the return bus trip (image above). It was a first for me and a lot of fun – one of many new experiences that made the pilgrimage such a transformative experience. Yes, even Karaoke can be transformative! It provided a good balance to the deep philosophical and spiritual lessons on the mountain.

Shugendo Now DVD cover.

The title of this post was inspired by the documentary ‘Shugendo Now‘ released 11 years ago. The documentary tells a compelling story and is recommended viewing. It explores how a group of modern Japanese people integrate the myriad ways mountain learning (through asceticism) interacts with urban life. The  focus is on Mt Omine (south of Nara), shown on the cover of the DVD, which along with Dewa Sanzen (west of Sendai) is the location of Shugendo practice apparently best known outside of Japan.

My experience with Wani-ontakesan is a vivid example of how Shugendo is practiced more widely and diversely across Japan than may be appreciated. As well as the twice yearly pilgrimages to Mt Ontake this community of faith undertake ascetic practices on several other mountains including Mt Omine and Mt Fuji. Monthly visits are made to Fushimi-Inari in Kyoto and regular services are held at their place of worship in Wani on Lake Biwa where I have participated in services involving goma (fire) and other Shugendo rituals. For those wanting to discover more, their website and associated blog can be found here (Japanese only). The rituals and practices of Wani-ontakesan are highly syncretic, intimately related to the elements and have a deep history. Shugendo ‘now’ also encompasses the future and the past.

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Click here for a youtube video of just over 5 minutes telling the story of the Ontake faith in visual fashion, particularly the role of Kakumei and Fukan in opening the pilgrim route.

Are Japanese religious?

Does taking part in a festival make one religious?  Does celebrating Christmas make one Christian?  The boundaries between religion and tradition are far from clear.

Does taking part in a festival make one religious? Does celebrating Christmas make one Christian? The boundaries between religion and tradition are far from clear.

People often describe the Japanese as not religious.  Indeed, the Japanese themselves often say as much.  Yet social life in Japan is undeniably characterised by religious behaviour and religious institutions carry great weight.  Take the multitude of religious festivals, for instance, or the role of lucky charms and Buddhist funerals.  It’s something that perplexes many observers and the graph below provides an example of the conundrum.

The importance of religion in our everyday life  (OneEurope website)

On a graph of 56 countries, Japan stands at the absolute low point of religious “belief”

This infographic was made on the basis of a survey meant to determine the importance of religion in people’s everyday life. The factors considered were, frequency of regular religious services attendance, frequency of prayers, participation in religious activities, visits to the church (any house of worship) during childhood, existence of religious objects in the home and so on.

The study concluded that in 36 out of 56 surveyed countries religion is ‘very or rather important’ to the majority of its people, regardless of the type of faith they believe in. The numbers differ a lot from one region to another, with 100% of Jordanians and Egyptians considering religion very important in their life, while only 20% having the same answer in Japan and China!

A family performing the 7-5-3 ritual.  A religious event, or a Japanese custom?

A family performing the 7-5-3 ritual. A religious activity, or a Japanese custom?

However, without more information on the technique and questions used the results of this survey can’t be trusted.  It begs the question, what is “religion”? The survey refers to “organised” religion not beliefs per se, and Western norms are used as the determining factor.

For example, few Japanese people go to church/temple/etc. regularly but most have a Buddhist altar and often a Shinto kamidana in their house. Visits to graveyards once or more times a year are common, and there are numerous memorial services too. Life in Japan is framed by customs and festivals that are religious in origin but no longer perceived as “religion”.

It’s all a matter of definition.  At shrines and temples one will invariably see a devout worshippers, which is enough to suggest that far from being irreligious Japanese have a strong sense of the spiritual.  They may not classify this as belonging to a religion however, more a matter of custom and tradition.

Paying respects to the kami, reading a fortune slip and buying an amulet do not necessarily imply the ‘worshippers’ are Shintoist.  But they do show conformity to Japanese tradition and the practice of their ancestors.

Shinboku, sacred tree

Though this person shows deep respect for the spirit of the tree, she does not call herself a Shintoist.

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