Sept. 9
I left Nara with an aching foot, shoulder, shin, and kneecap. Not to mention the equally injurious hangover. Let’s skip to something good…we were headed to Mt. Kōya! The beautiful mountain scenery on the trainride cleared my bad mood. I looked out at ancient tombs and wrote poetry. Civilization gradually turned to mountain vistas, and we passed through at least ten tunnels on our way up the mountain. The final push to the top required a short but impossibly steep cable car ride. I had another of those how-the-hell-did-anyone-establish-a-temple-complex-here moments.
Short bus ride to Henjōkōin where Takayama-san, head temple administrator, greeted us with rosy cheeks and a huge smile. One of my favorite things about visiting temples in Japan is the happy-go-lucky demeanor of most people who reside therein. Inner peace and contentment really shines in their faces. We were led past an unbelievable garden that rose into the steep hillside to our tatami rooms on the second floor. My room overlooks another garden. Appreciation and gratitude, to say the least. Henjōkōin’s head priest joined us for tea and sweets and was kind enough to give us a short introduction to Mt. Kōya and this temple’s rich history. Apparently the name Henjōkō comes from Kūkai (founder of this mountain complex) seeing shimmering light while sitting at this garden. Lovely (even if not totally historically accurate).
Took a short walk before 6 o’ clock dinner to a small shrine that lies down a tori-lined path. Window shopped blackened carvings of wood-blocked bodhisattvas. Perused a hall of paintings illustrating the story of a young many losing his parents and finding himself on this mountain (I thought of my father a lot, and Cynthea noticed this and lit a candle and said a prayer for him at the Jizo statue). A nice soak in Henjōkōin’s lovely bath before dinner provided the perfect medication for my less-than-wonderful morning. I entered the bath just behind two older Japanese women, pilgrims to Kōya-san. I was about two feet taller than them. They were all smiles, especially when Tracy came in with a head of bright pink hair! Post-dinner I donned my yukata, which we all wore to dinner. Dinner was held in the room the Emperor of Japan from medieval times used to dine in. How’s that for impressive! Gold leaf sliding doors with Kano-school paintings provided the perfect (if not over the top) ambience for our wonderful dinner of shōjin-ryōri (vegetarian food served at Buddhist temples with no garlic, meat, or onions).
I fell into my cozy futon and breathed in the chilly mountain air from outside. Listened to next door’s conversation through the paper thin walls before putting my headphones on and drifting into Phish dreamland. Yes-I.
Sept. 10
Today was my perfect day! I awoke at 6:00am for morning services at Henjōkōin, and was first to enter the main hall. Night was hanging on ever so slightly, and golden lantern light filled the room. There I was, all alone, in front of an adorned altar, paintings of the twelve esoteric devas, and countless gold memorial plaques that told silent stories. I knelt on the carpet and others slowly trickled in until the whole room was full. Lastly, the head priest and another priest, Kōyō (who is so great!), entered the space and ritually bowed three times to begin the service.
There was chanting of Buddhist texts, clapping of dense cymbals (the sound of which carried the pain of the whole world, I thought), shaking of various ritual implements, and then incense offering by all attendees. The morning light slowly filtered in and illuminated bronze images of Fudō myō’ō (central Shingon deity, very wrathful looking) foregrounded by a dragon spearing sword, Dainichi Buddha (also central to Shingon, center of the universe), and a seated image of Kōbō Daishi Kūkai (founder of the Shingon tradition in Japan). Now, it is almost impossible to sit on your feet without having them go to sleep after about ten minutes, and it had been almost thirty, so when it was my turn to approach the Kūkai altar and offer incense I seriously wondered if I could move my legs. Thank you, legs, for you did work and I did not ruin the morning affair!
Breakfast in the Emperor’s room then we headed right out for a long hike I had planned and been excited about for months! For hundreds of years (officially until 1906) women were not allowed to ascend Mt. Kōya or utilize any of the temples. Rather than idle by and accept their exclusion, however, women established their own pilgrimage route around the central space past Kōya’s seven former entrances (only one still exists). This route, suitably known as nyoninmichi (women’s path), is still accessible, and the remnants of former rest stops for women pilgrims are marked. I gave a short lecture at the nyonindō (women’s hall) before we headed down the 6.9 km path, which immediately ascended almost straight up!
The trail twisted and turned up and down peaks and valleys and, for the most part, our whole group really enjoyed the experience, which made me all the more happy (I, for one, believe that sharing experiences makes them that much more meaningful). I photo-documented the entire three hour journey with great delight, and treaded the same path that so many women had before me.
Tired feet finally came to a much needed rest at the entrance of Mt. Kōya’s Okunoin, a HUGE cemetery tucked into the woods where moss covered stone tombs and statues crowd together in about two square kilometers. Lunch of udon noodle soup, pickles, rice, and gomadōfu (sesame tofu) provided the perfect nourishment to continue the day. We strolled slowly through the solemn yet indescribably beautiful grounds back in the direction of Henjōkōin, taking many pictures and breathing in the fresh, fresh air.
This was all accomplished by 2:30pm, and in the afternoon we were scheduled for special meditation and sutra/image copying. Takayama-san greeted us at the front and would not let us step inside before ascending a rickety wooden ladder to the roof of the main entrance to see firsthand what traditional roofing consisted of (thin sheets of hinoki bark attached by bamboo nails). I was able to squeeze in a four minute nap before meditation. Kōyō-san instructed us to stare at a wall hanging of the Sanskrit letter “a” atop a lotus flower in front of the moon. For twenty minutes we were to meditate on this image (until it was imprinted on our retinas), then we closed our eyes and let the moon become one with you and the whole universe. My timing was slightly off and both my legs were completely numb by the end, but it was a really thought-provoking endeavor I look forward to trying again tomorrow. I copied my first sutra immediately after, the short Heart Sutra. The rhythmic motion of the ink pen helped slow my racing mind, as all actions inside a Buddhist temple are intended to do, and before I knew it I had completed the whole thing. Takayama-san will present the papers at tomorrow’ morning service. I feel accomplished. Another lovely bath to soak my weary bones, then a short moment of relaxation, sake, and snacks in Cynthea’s room before dinner. Tonight’s dinner was equally delicious. Something boiled, something fried, something pickled, something sweet. Everything tasty. Catching up on ye old blog before closing my eyes, only to arise several hours later at 5:00am to set out for a fire ritual.
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