gwenonikki

Such amazing colours outside the train window on the way to Eiheiji. Short chartreuse fields, edged with tall, swaying, wispy-white grasses and cut across by a brown jacket on an ice blue scooter. Steel-blue waters bridged with rusty, industrial, pastel pipes. A feast of burnished saffron, pumpkin, cardamom leaves laid out over the rounded mountains.

For my two months here, I’ve been blissfully insulated from information overload. I’ve tuned out announcements and conversations because I can understand only a miniscule amount, and I don’t read because the few characters I do recognize don’t help the rest of them make any sense. So instead of reading signs and immediately having to process the function of buildings, I can simply appreciate their shapes, colours, lines, and textures. The train’s window was the perfect viewfinder.

One of Soto Zen’s two head temples, Eiheiji means “temple of eternal peace.” It dwells in the mountains of Japan’s west coast, near the city of Fukui. Eiheiji’s priests devote themselves to the practice of Shikantaza (just sitting). They also treat all their other actions—eating, sleeping, and bathing—as religious practice.

I’m excited that I’ll get to talk about Eiheiji. My small amount of time there was very special. Really remarkable. So it doesn’t seem right to try to pin it down into paragraphs. I maybe feeling that way because I’m awfully tired writing this. This morning’s meditation call was at 4:45 a.m.

Some fragments….

The entrance to the temple was all yellow leaves, orange lichen, and verdant mosses.

Because I was the only English-speaking visitor, I got to have discussion, meditation, and a tour with both a priest and a priest trainee, rather than solely a trainee. The trainee assigned to me, Kouzen, was just starting to learn English. I wish I had been told the priest’s name. I’ll always remember my time with him. He was calm yet animated. Benevolent and unassuming. I had expected our discussion would be him asking me questions as to why I had come. Not at all. In fact, I think I asked more questions. He was so interested in and so full of life. Like all Buddhist priests, he is upholding the tenet of finding happiness without greed, without causing anyone suffering. He wants peace to prevail. He made me very aware of how tiny we all are. And how we have so much to learn.

His and the trainee’s calm quietness made meditation easier. The three of us sat. I made it through the longest period I ever have – 40 minutes. The priest’s kind instructions, like his stories, made me feel honoured. And although I felt the usual relief at the end, I didn’t feel overwhelmed with thoughts as I often do.

I padded up the many cold steps to morning service, behind Kouzen in the brisk, predawn air. Feeling all of the sounds resonate in my chest – the shrill bells, the thunderous ones, and the deep and short twangs. All of them punctuated our approach and continued, and then transitioned into the monks’ deep chanting. Incredible, powerful sounds. The sight of several black and brown robes, and the glint of the altar’s gold.

We left morning service, stepping out of the temple—the highest building in the complex—and beginning our tour just as dawn was touching down. Immensely beautiful.

Once I checked out of my room, I had two hours to wait before the bus came. The other visitors and I were allowed to walk around and take pictures, but not of the priest trainees or the priests. Here are a few:

Must go and pack. See all of you very soon. Yay!