Here is a very interesting article from the Japan Times about Daisetz Suzuki, a Zen Buddhist teacher, who died 55 years ago. D.T. Suzuki is one of the great Zen teachers in modern Japanese history.

Zen psychology: Daisetz Suzuki remembered

More than any other Eastern thinker in the 20th century, Suzuki catalyzed the rise of humanistic psychology, which has spurred today's interest in spirituality and well-being

By EDWARD HOFFMAN

Special to The Japan Times

Despite the gloomy global economy, the field of positive psychology is booming. Often described simplistically by journalists as "the science of happiness," it's actually a broad focus on our strengths and talents, virtues and peak experiences in daily living. The name for this specialty originated with Martin Seligman at the University of Pennsylvania a dozen years ago. With amazing speed, it has spawned courses at hundreds of colleges, best-selling books, websites and workshops on topics like mindfulness, and wide-ranging research on the links between mood and wellness.

Zen sage: The works of Daisetz Suzuki have inspired many in the West to study and learn from Eastern philosophy and Zen Buddhism. AP PHOTO

Yet, amid this flurry of excitement, it's shameful that so little credit is given to a key figure who helped shift the focus away from Sigmund Freud's gloomy fixations to a more optimistic view of human nature: Daisetz Teitaro Suzuki. More than any other Eastern thinker in the 20th century, he catalyzed the rise of humanistic psychology in the post-World War II era — and, indirectly, today's mounting interest in spirituality and inner well-being. As 2011 marks the 55th anniversary of Suzuki's death, the time is right to remember the remarkable man born in what's now Kanazawa, western Japan.

Suzuki was descended from a long line of physicians of the samurai class. He was expected to follow in their path, but when he was only 6, his father died and this goal became financially impossible. Academically gifted, he taught English in several small towns before initiating higher education at Tokyo Senmon Gakko (the predecessor of Waseda University) and the nonregular course at the Imperial University in Tokyo. But by his early 20s, Suzuki felt drawn to spiritual matters, and became a novitiate at the Engakuji Rinzai Zen monastery in Kamakura.

What was his motivation? As Suzuki later reminisced, "My thoughts (had) started to turn to philosophy and religion, and as my family belonged to the Rinzai sect of Zen, it was natural that I should look to Zen for some of the answers to my problems (about losing my father and our family's resulting poverty)."

At Engakuji, Suzuki's mentor, the aged Roshi (Zen master) Imagita Kosen, bestowed the Buddhist name Daisetz, meaning "great humility" on his pupil. Suzuki spent long hours in zazen (sitting meditation) and immersed himself in classic Zen texts. He was especially inspired by the "Zenkan Sakushin" (Whips to Drive You Through the Zen Barrier), an anthology of writings on Zen discipline and advice compiled by a Chinese master of the Ming dynasty. Decades later, Suzuki would vividly describe these formative years in his spiritual memoir, "The Training of A Buddhist Monk."

As he later reminisced, "In the way of moral effort, I used to spend many nights in a cave at the back of the Shariden building where the Buddha's tooth was enshrined. But there was always a weakness of willpower in me, so that I often failed to sit up all night in the cave, finding some excuse to leave, such as the mosquitoes."

Suzuki may have been exceptionally modest by temperament, but he was a brilliant linguist. Recognizing this talent was Roshi Kosen's cosmopolitan successor — Shaku Soyen, who arranged for young Suzuki to work near Chicago as a professional translator of Eastern texts for the Open Court publishing firm. There for 12 years, Suzuki enthusiastically introduced Americans to classic Chinese, Japanese, Pali and Sanskrit writings — starting with Taoism's seminal text, the "Tao Te Ching." In 1907, Suzuki authored his first book, "Outlines of Mahayana Buddhism," and thus began his subsequent, nearly 60-year career as a teacher and interpreter of Zen Buddhism to the West. During his stay in the U.S., he traveled widely including a visit to Europe — expanding his translation work and connecting with Theosophists and others interested in mystical teachings for the modern world.

Training ground: Daisetz Suzuki studied Zen at Engakuji monastery in Kamakura. YOSHIAKI MIURA PHOTOS

Late in his life, Suzuki insisted that he had never planned to spend so much time residing in the U.S., but "one year grew into the next and I wound up staying in America for more than a decade. After that, I traveled around Europe for a year before returning to Japan."

During this period, Suzuki also found time for romance. In 1911, he married Beatrice Erskine Lane, an American social worker eight years his junior drawn to Zen and Theosophy. By then, he was back in Japan as an English lecturer at the Imperial University, and they wedded in Yokohama. The two would adopt a son and collaborate on many literary projects until her death in 1939, for Lane was an accomplished scholar in her own right — whose lucid book on Mahayana Buddhism still remains in print after more than 70 years. Sharing her husband's interest in psychology, she devoted an entire chapter in this work to the Buddhist concept of personality — and poetically declared that "The only definite teaching to be found in Zen is that . . . every man is a sleeping Buddha. Consequently, (one) has but to awaken his heart of wisdom by meditation to gain a direct insight into the nature of reality."

The 1920s and 1930s marked Suzuki's most productive years. Joining the faculty of Otani University in Kyoto, he taught both English and Buddhist philosophy, and received an honorary doctorate in literature. During this period, his major books included "An Introduction to Zen Buddhism," "Essays in Zen Buddhism," "The Training of the Zen Buddhist Monk," his translation of the ancient Sanskrit Lankavatara Sutra, and especially "Zen and Its Influence on Japanese Culture."

These works came to influence several major psychological thinkers of the 20th century including Carl Jung, Erich Fromm and Karen Horney. For example, Jung was fascinated by Suzuki's description of the Zen experience of satori(enlightenment) and argued that it showed that we have higher stages of consciousness beyond the ego. For Fromm and Horney, Suzuki's work pointed the way to an exciting new understanding of personality growth and psychotherapy based on the notion of a "real self" that can be nurtured through authenticity and "whole-heartedness."

Fromm admired Suzuki's Zen teaching that we grow spiritually in life not by mere words and intellect, but by involving our entire being. At the time, of course, Freudianism was the dominant approach in Europe and the U.S., and had nothing to say about such matters.

During the interwar years, Suzuki's writings also helped modern Japanese to appreciate the impact of Zen thought on their own culture. For instance, in his preface to "The Training of the Zen Buddhist Monk," Suzuki asserted that "It is impossible, as I maintain, in the study of the Orient, especially in the study of Japanese character and culture, to neglect — much less to ignore — the influence of Zen. "In Zen and Its Influence on Japanese Culture," Suzuki described Zen's impact on four different, long-standing traditions in his country: painting, literature, swordsmanship and the tea ceremony. Each of these domains is worth noting, though space constraint here necessarily make these brief.

A temple room within Engakuji monastery where Suzuki is believed to have meditated.

Artistically, the Sumiye is a kind of sketch in black and white, involving ink composed of soot and glue, a brush of sheep's or badger's hair, and thin paper designed to absorb much ink. As Suzuki noted, such frail material was intentionally chosen to make sure that the artist's inspiration was transferred onto it in the quickest possible time — allowing for no erasing, retouching or remodeling. In this way, observed Suzuki, "Sumiye attempts to catch spirit as it moves" — thereby embodying the Zen principle that in life, "Everything becomes, nothing is stationery."

As for literature, the haiku is a special product of Japanese genius, according to Suzuki, developed in its highest form by the 17th-century Zen devotee Basho. How so? Because he freed haiku from mere wordplay and connected it to the experience of ultimate truth with such poems as "A frog jumps into the water. Hear the sound!"

As for swordsmanship, Suzuki contended that in feudal times, Japanese warriors were taught by Zen masters not to learn scholarly doctrines, but to develop a specific mental attitude: fearlessness before their possible death in battle. The 16th-century Zen master Takuan also taught his disciple Yagyu Tajima no Kami (swordsmanship teacher to the shogun of his day): "What is most important in the art of swordplay is to acquire . . . 'immovable wisdom.' 'Immovable' does not mean to be stiff and heavy . . . It means the highest degree of motility with a center which remains immovable . . . You must leave your mind free to make its own countermovement without your interfering deliberation."

Finally, Suzuki contended that the Japanese tea ceremony, so integral and favored part of its culture — and similar to other long-standing artistic activities as flower arranging — embodies the spirit of sabi by emphasizing such elements as simplicity, naturalness, refinement and "familiarity singularly tinged with aloofness and everyday commonness veiled exquisitely with the mist of transcendental inwardness."

Such insights by Suzuki helped to awaken broad Japanese interest in Zen Buddhism, especially as his reputation grew in the West.

When World War II erupted, Suzuki was under the suspicion of the Japanese government for his opposition to militarism. In his numerous wartime essays on Zen, he kept quiet about political matters, but in private letters as well as public speeches, he made clear his antiwar stance. For example, the day after Pearl Harbor was bombed, the 71-year-old Suzuki plunged Otani University's faculty meeting into uproar when he contended, "With this, Japan will be destroyed. What will destroy it is Shinto and the militarists."

Such shocking words, of course, proved prophetic — and in 1949, he was made a member of the Japan Academy and decorated by the emperor with the Order of Culture.

The postwar era marked the heyday of American Freudianism and its humanistic offshoots — and Suzuki, teaching Zen Buddhism at Columbia University in the 1950s, was at the epicenter of creative psychological thought. Only months before Horney's death in 1952, she accompanied Suzuki and colleagues on a tour of Japanese Zen monasteries and emphasized the importance of his notion of "whole-heartedness" as a vital feature of mental health. Fromm became close friends with Suzuki, and in 1957, sponsored him as a guest speaker for a conference on Zen and psychoanalysis held in Cuernavaca, Mexico. Several years later, the two coauthored an influential book on this topic; like many others, Fromm was greatly touched by Suzuki's personal warmth and kindness.

Abraham Maslow, guru of motivational psychology, was another humanistic thinker inspired by Suzuki during these years. Maslow, who pioneered in studying what he called "peak experiences" — that is, sudden moments of joy and meaning — was excited by Suzuki's concept of sono-mama or suchness, as an element of mystical awareness. Sponsoring Suzuki's lectures at Brandeis University, Maslow also regarded Suzuki's Zen teaching of muga, or total absorption, as vital for a psychology of well-being and growth.

It is an historical irony, though, that Suzuki had much less impact on Japanese psychology than on its humanistic development in the U.S. and Europe. Why so? Because during the postwar years, Japanese psychologists were eager to establish their field as a rigorous experimentalist science, akin to biology, and looked askance at philosophical or spiritual thinkers. As the Jungian scholar Dr. Shoji Muramoto of Kobe City University of Foreign Studies comments, "Unlike in the West, Suzuki's relevance to modern psychology has hardly been appreciated in Japan outside of a few journal articles. Nevertheless, he was perhaps the first Zen philosopher to deal with Zen as an object of academic study in its philosophical basis and psychological aspects, as well as its history."

After retiring from Columbia University in 1957, the elderly Suzuki returned to Japan, where he kept up an active, international schedule of writing, attending conferences, lecturing and receiving awards for his lifetime achievements.

Until his death in 1966 at age 95, he influenced a new generation interested in the relevance of Eastern thought — particularly Zen Buddhism — for contemporary civilization. For instance, his writings on Zen meditation later contributed to mindfulness training for health care professionals as a valued therapeutic tool — and now sponsored by dozens of medical schools in the U.S. and elsewhere.

As Suzuki astutely saw, the world was hungry for Eastern spiritual wisdom. His final words? "Don't worry. Thank you! Thank you!"

Jizo Bodhisattva: Guardian of Children, Travelers & Souls in Hell

The book, Jizo Bodhisattva - Guardian of Children, Travelers & Other Voyagers, written by American Zen teacher Jan Chozen Bays, provides an informative overview of the history of Jizo Bodhisattva or Ojizo-sama. For those who are familiar with or live in Japan, you probably have heard of Jizo Bodhisattva and you probably have seen many Jizo statues. It is a common sight in Japan.




I also had heard of Jizo but I did not know too much about what Jizo was or signifies. This book provided a good overview from a Zen Buddhist's perspective. The book also provided good information about some of the basic beliefs of Buddhism such as rebirth and the various hell realms.

Here are some of the interesting things I learned from this book.

A Bodhisattva is an enlightened being who vows not to enter nirvana, but instead works to free all others who suffer. Jizo's two most important vows are: "Only after the Hells are empty will I become a Buddha" and "Only after all beings are taken across to Enlightenment will I myself realize Bodhi."




Jizo is known to be the protector of children and travelers. You sometimes will see Jizo statues along roads or highways. At temples or cemetaries, a Jizo statue may be seen holding a child.

Statues of six Jizo's are often found at the entrance to cemeteries or temples. The six Jizo's represent the division of Jizo into six bodies, one to help suffering beings in each of the six realms. The six realms are the Hells, Hungry Ghosts, the Animal Realm, Human Realm, the Realm of the Asuras, and the Realm of the Gods.

There are actually many forms of Jizo. Below are some of them:

Emmei or Enmei Jizo - Jizo who prolongs life and provides benefits including watching over children and curing illness
Hara Obi Jizo - Stomach-wrapper Jizo who protects women during pregnancy
Hikeshi Jizo - Protects houses and harvests from fire
Indo Jizo - Saves humans after death and leads them to enlightenment
Meyame Jizo - Restores eyesight
Taue Jizo - Helps farmers plant rice
Mizuko Jizo - Water-Baby Jizo

There are many other Jizo's besides these above.

The popular Mizuko Jizo or Water-Baby Jizo is often portrayed as a monk with an infant in his arms and another child or two at his feet. In Japan, a ceremony called a Mizuko Kuyo is performed for grieving parents who have lost an infant either before birth or within the first few years of life. The Mizuko Jizo is a more recent creation. This Jizo and the Mizuko Kuyo ceremony arose in Japan in the 1960's.

The Jizo that is the special protector of Children arose during the medieval times in Japan. According to Japanese Buddhist beliefs, young children who have died are innocent souls who are unable to understand the teachings of the Buddha or to separate right from wrong. This also means that, through no fault of their own, they cannot become enlightened. They are stuck in a kind of limbo. Jizo protects the children in this limbo realm from demons.

Jizo statues often carry a pilgrim's staff. At the top are rings, usually four or six. Four for the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism or six for the six realms of existence such as the Hell or Human realms.

In the other hand of most Jizo statues is a cintamani jewel. The cintamani is the jewel that fullfills all wishes. The jewel is supposed to emit a warm brilliant light which illuminates the deepest reaches of the hells.

There were many other interesting facts I learned about the Jizo from this book. If you are curious about the many Jizo's located around Japan, I would recommend this book.

Pasadena teahouse sent to Japan for restoration, then returned to America

I like to periodically post Japan related articles that I find especially interesting and this is one from the Los Angeles Times.

The Japanese tea ceremony has a long history and was also popular among some of Japan's greatest samurai warlords such as the powerful Oda Nobunaga and the great unifier Toyotomi Hideyoshi of the late 16th century. The great tea practitioner from the late 16th century, Sen no Rikyu, was also an influential political confidant of Hideyoshi. But Rikyu somehow angered the great warlord, most likely some sort of political intrigue, and Hideyoshi ordered Rikyu to commit seppuku, ritual suicide. This is interesting because seppuku was generally performed only by a samurai, which Rikyu was not. This shows the important place in society that Rikyu held.

A Pasadena teahouse, falling on hard times, will be sent to Japan for restoration, then return to grace a new garden at the Huntington Library.

By Teresa Watanabe, Los Angeles Times

September 12, 2010

Japan's Grand Master of the Phoenix Cloud visited Los Angeles four decades ago and dedicated an exquisite teahouse to the public in the hopes of popularizing the sublime art of tea ceremony in the West.

Trained as a kamikaze pilot during World War II, the grand master saw tea as a way to promote peace, share Japan's cultural treasures and repair a national image battered by wartime militarism. The 400-year-old art expresses the values of harmony, respect, purity and tranquillity through the highly refined and ritualized making and serving of tea.

But the ceremony failed to catch on much beyond a small circle of Japanese Americans. The teahouse, given to the Pasadena Buddhist Church, declined in use. Termites began attacking the wood and paper structure, and the elderly couple who cared for the teahouse for decades no longer could do so.

The Huntington Library, Art Collections and Botanical Gardens in San Marino has stepped in to rescue the teahouse as part of an ambitious $6.7-million project to restore its Japanese garden and develop an authentic tea garden. In collaboration with the grand master's Urasenke School and the Buddhist church, the Huntington hopes to use the teahouse to expose the art to a broader swath of society and develop a premier program for Asian garden arts, including the tea ceremony, flower arranging, bonsai and stone viewing.

James Folsom, the Huntington's botanical gardens director, said the ancient Japanese art is as relevant to Americans today as it was to the Zen monks and warring samurai who practiced it four centuries ago.

"When life is so hectic, when you're rushing around looking at e-mails, how do you remind yourself to stop and be human again?" Folsom said. "The tea ceremony reminds us to step out of that, to appreciate silence and tranquillity in the presence of others and to enjoy the beauty of the moment. We would hope that tea helps lead people to a change in their own lives."

The Urasenke Tankokai Los Angeles Assn. offered a farewell bowl of tea to several guests in the Pasadena teahouse. The house, designed by the grand master's brother, Sen Mitsuhiko, is a light and airy structure featuring woven bamboo ceilings, white papered shoji screens, bamboo tatami mats and the all-important alcove displaying the day's carefully selected Japanese scroll, vase and flower arrangement.

The gathering's hostess, Soen Clarkson, performed the tea ceremony's ritualized acts: First, fold a silk cloth to wipe the tea caddy and tea scoop. Place the powdered green tea in a specially selected bowl. Pour in water heated over a charcoal brazier. Whip the mixture into a froth with a bamboo whisk. Then, offer it to the guests along with Japanese sweets.

As the guests sipped tea, Robert Hori, vice president of Urasenke's Los Angeles chapter and director of advancement at the Japanese American Cultural & Community Center, explained his choices in selecting the various accoutrements for the occasion. The careful consideration of such items is part of the tea ceremony's spirit of hospitality as the host aims to capture the gathering's treasured and irreplaceable moment.

The boat-shaped vase pointing outward symbolized the teahouse's departure from the Pasadena church, he said. A Rose of Sharon and bush clover, both short-lived blooms, reflect the transiency of life. The scroll of Japanese calligraphy was used when the grand master dedicated the teahouse, named the Arbor of the Pure Breeze, in Pasadena in 1965.

And for the day's tea scoop, Hori selected a utensil named "gratitude."

"We're really grateful for the opportunity to give the teahouse a new life," he said. "It's the end and it's the beginning."

Tea was first taken to Japan from China by a Buddhist monk in the 9th century. But it was not until the 16th century that Sen Rikyu perfected the Way of Tea by incorporating into it Zen elements of simplicity and oneness with nature. By designing a teahouse with an entrance forcing guests to lower their heads and crawl through, the tea master also sought to eliminate social distinctions.

Fourteen generations later, Sen's direct descendent, Tantansai — the Grand Master of Purity and Serenity — served tea to American Occupation forces in Japan. That, in turn, inspired his son Hounsai to move beyond his military training and lingering disdain for Americans and dedicate his life to international harmony through tea. In 1965, he visited the United States to officially dedicate the teahouse his father had bequeathed to the church.

Sosei Matsumoto, a 90-year-old tea master lauded for her accomplishments by President Clinton and the emperor of Japan alike, was the first to teach tea ceremony in the new Pasadena teahouse. The structure, she recalled Sunday, was used for classes every week, with special tea ceremonies for New Year's and the summer Obon festival honoring ancestors.

But the Pasadena tea group failed to expand and dwindled to about seven students, said Yaeko Sakahara, also 90, who took over the classes from Matsumoto more than three decades ago. One of the major obstacles, she and others said, is the traditional requirement to sit on bamboo mats with legs folded under, a position that can turn legs numb after a few minutes. Tea ceremonies can last from 20 minutes to four hours.

Another obstacle to sustaining interest in tea is growing acculturation among younger generations of Japanese Americans, said Irene Takemori, Pasadena temple president.

"The younger generation is more interested in sports and don't have a lot of time for this cultural stuff," Takemori said. "It's really a shame, because it's such a beautiful experience to drink tea and find peace of mind."

When health issues began to preoccupy Sakahara, the teahouse's future hung in the balance.

Enter the Huntington. The renowned cultural institute had been looking for a Japanese teahouse after one of its donors, Mary B. Taylor Hunt, bequeathed a $2.6-million endowment for an authentic Japanese tea garden and related cultural programs. The Huntington's nine-acre Japanese garden, designed by founder Henry Huntington and William Hertrich, reflects a Western interpretation of Japanese aethestics but is not considered authentic, Folsom said.

After months of consideration, the Pasadena Buddhist Church decided earlier this year to donate the teahouse, clearing the way for the transfer.

The Huntington plans to close the current Japanese garden next year for several months of renovation, including restoration of its ponds and a traditional Japanese house. The new two-acre garden will be installed behind the house, along with the Pasadena teahouse. The grand reopening is expected to occur in 2012, in time for the garden's centennial anniversary, Folsom said.

This week, carpenters from Japan are scheduled to fly to Los Angeles and begin dismantling the teahouse. The pieces will be shipped to Kyoto, restored, then sent back to the Huntington.

Folsom said the Huntington, working with the region's tea schools and the Buddhist church, will seek to popularize the Japanese art, possibly using more ceremonial forms that allow practitioners to sit in chairs rather than on folded legs, among other ideas.

For the longtime guardians of the teahouse, Sunday's farewell was bittersweet.

"The teahouse has been an integral part of the temple, so it's a little sad to have it depart," Takemori said. "But it's in the best public interest and for the best use of the teahouse."

teresa.watanabe@latimes.com

Zenshuji Temple, Los Angeles

This is a statue of Kannon Bodhisattva outside the Zenshuhi Zen temple in downtown Los Angeles. Once a week I visit Kannon here at Zenshuji.

Kannon is the Buddhist bodhisattva of compassion or goddess of mercy. Kannon is often pictured next to Amida Buddha. In the crown on Kannon can be seen an image of Amida Buddha who was Kannon's spiritual teacher before Kannon became a Bodhisattva. Amida Buddha is the principal Buddha of the Pure Land sect

Above are six Jizo statues outside Zenshuji. Jizo is also a Bodisattva and the name is translated as "Earth Treasury", "Earth Store", or "Earth Womb". Jizo is known for his vow not to achieve Buddhahood until all the various hells are emptied. In Japan, Jizo is one of the most beloved of deities and you will see Jizo statues all over Japan. Jizo is considered the guardian of children and travelers but there are actually dozens of other various Jizo's who provide protection for many different people. Since Jizo is the savior of souls, you will often find him in cemeteries in Japan. Also, since he provides protection to travelers, Jizo is a common site along the roadsides of Japan.

A large lantern outside Zenshuji temple.

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Zen advice

Here is some good advice for myself. It comes from Zen master Dogen's Shobogenzo Zuimonki. Dogen is the founder of the Soto Zen sect of Buddhism in Japan.

Once, after a discussion of the doctrine, Dogen instructed: It is not good to overwhelm another person with argument even when he is wrong and you are right. Yet it is also not right to give up too easily, saying, "I am wrong," when you have every reason to believe that you yourself are right. The best way is to drop the argument naturally, without pressing the other person or falsely admitting that you yourself are wrong. If you don't listen to his arguments and don't let them bother you, he will do the same and not become angry. This is something to watch carefully.

I am pretty sure that Dogen is not saying that if you think you are right, then you should ignore what the other person is saying and not listen to them. My belief is that when you feel strongly about something, you should not continue to argue with another person who may also feel strongly. But Dogen says you should not lie to yourself or to them by simply giving in and saying, "I was wrong". Rather, you should just let those types of arguments go away naturally.

An ongoing lesson in the extent of my own stupidy

No, this is not a post about how I came to realize my own stupidity, this is a post about the book of that title.




I recently read this book on the recommendation from i, cjw ~.::.~ hiking and climbing in japan, and I really enjoyed it.

The book is written by Zen Master Soko Morinaga and details his training as a novice monk. Morinaga humorously explains how naive he was when he was training to become a Zen Buddhist monk. Some of his stories had me laughing out loud on the bus home from work.

Here is a funny excerpt from his book which both shows his sense of humor and indicates how much he had to learn when he was young. Morinaga's Roshi (Zen teacher) has directed Morinaga to sweep up the leaves in the temple garden :

Here I was, inside my heart denouncing this "old fool" and balking at the very idea of trusting so easily; yet, at the same time, I wanted this old man to notice me, and so I took up that broom and swept with a vengeance. Quite soon I had amassed a mountain of dead leaves. Eager to show off my diligence, I asked, "Roshi, where should I throw this trash?"

The words were barely out of my mouth when he thundered back at me, "There is no trash!"

No trash, but...look here," I tried to indicate the pile of leaves.

"So you don't believe me! Is that it?"

"It's only that, well, where should I throw out these leaves?" That was all that was left for me to say.

"You don't throw them out!" he roared again.

"What should I do then?" I asked.

"Go out to the shed and bring back an empty charcoal sack," was his instruction.

When I returned, I found Roshi bent to the task of combing through the mountain of leaves, sifting so that the lighter leaves came out on top while the heavier sand and stones fell to the bottom. He then proceeded to stuff the leaves into the sack I had brought from the shed, tamping them down with his feet. After he had jammed the last leaves tightly into the sack, he said, "Take these to the shed. We'll use them to make a fire under the bath."

As I went off to the shed, I silently admitted that this sack of leaves was perhaps not trash; I also told myself that what was left of that pile out there in the garden was clearly trash, and nothing but trash. I got back, though, only to find Roshi squatting over the remains of the leaf pile, picking out the stones. After he had carefully picked out the last stone, he ordered, "Take these out and arrange them under the rain gutters."

When I had set out the stones, together with the gravel that was already there, and filled in the spaces pummeled out by the raindrops, I found that not only were the holes filled but that these stones, too, failed to fall into the category of trash. There was still more, though: the clods of earth and scraps of moss, the last dregs. Just what could anyone possibly do with that stuff I wondered.

I saw Roshi going about his business, gathering up these scraps and placing them, piece by piece, in the palm of his hand. He scanned the ground for dents and sinks: he filled them in with the clods of earth, which he then tamped down with his feet. Not a single particle remained of the mountain of leaves.

"Well?" he queried, "Do you understand a little better now? From the first, in people and in things, there is no such thing as trash."

This was the first sermon I ever heard from Roshi. Although it did make an impression on me, unfortunately, I was not keen enough to attain satori (enlightenment) as a result of simply hearing these words.

From the first, in people and in things, there is no such thing as trash. These words point to the fundamental truth of Buddhism, a truth I could not yet conceive in those days.

This statement certainly has meaning in todays world.

I definitely recommend this book, whether you are interested in Buddhism or not, it is an entertaining and "enlightening" book to read.

Jizo Bodhisattva - Guardian of Children, Travelers & Other Voyagers

This book, written by American Zen teacher Jan Chozen Bays, provides an informative overview of the history of Jizo Bodhisattva. For those who are familiar with or live in Japan, you probably have heard of Jizo Bodhisattva and you probably have seen many Jizo statues. It is a common sight in Japan.




I also had heard of Jizo but I did not know too much about what Jizo was or signifies. This book provided a good overview from a Zen Buddhist's perspective. The book also provided good information about some of the basic beliefs of Buddhism such as rebirth and the various realms such as the Hell realms.

Here are some of the interesting things I learned from this book.

A Bodhisattva is an enlightened being who vows not to enter nirvana, but instead works to free all others who suffer. Jizo's two most important vows are: "Only after the Hells are empty will I become a Buddha" and "Only after all beings are taken across to Enlightenment will I myself realize Bodhi."




Jizo is known to be the protector of children and travelers. You sometimes will see Jizo statues along roads or highways. At temples or cemetaries, a Jizo statue may be seen holding a child.

Statues of six Jizo's are often found at the entrance to cemetaries. The six Jizo's represent the division of Jizo into six bodies, one to help suffering beings in each of the six realms. The six realms are the Hells, Hungry Ghosts, the Animal Realm, Human Realm, the Realm of the Asuras, and the Realm of the Gods.

There are actually many forms of Jizo. Below are some of them:

Emmei or Enmei Jizo - Jizo who prolongs life and provides benefits including watching over children and curing illness
Hara Obi Jizo - Stomach-wrapper Jizo who protects women during pregnancy
Hikeshi Jizo - Protects houses and harvests from fire
Indo Jizo - Saves humans after death and leads them to enlightenment
Meyame Jizo - Restores eyesight
Taue Jizo - Helps farmers plant rice
Mizuko Jizo - Water-Baby Jizo

There are many other Jizo's besides these above.

The popular Mizuko Jizo or Water-Baby Jizo is often portrayed as a monk with an infant in his arms and another child or two at his feet. In Japan, a ceremony called a Mizuko Kuyo is performed for grieving parents who have lost an infant either before birth or within the first few years of life. The Mizuko Jizo is a more recent creation. This Jizo and the Mizuko Kuyo ceremony arose in Japan in the 1960's.

The Jizo that is the special protector of Children arose during the medieval times in Japan. According to Japanese Buddhist beliefs, young children who have died are innocent souls who are unable to understand the teachings of the Buddha or to separate right from wrong. This also means that, through no fault of their own, they cannot become enlightened. They are stuck in a kind of limbo. Jizo protects the children in this limbo realm from demons.

Jizo statues often carry a pilgrim's staff. At the top are rings, usually four or six. Four for the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism or six for the six realms of existence such as the Hell or Human realms.

In the other hand of most Jizo statues is a cintamani jewel. The cintamani is the jewel that fullfills all wishes. The jewel is supposed to emit a warm brilliant light which illuminates the deepest reaches of hell.

There were many other interesting facts I learned about the Jizo from this book. If you are curious about the many Jizo's located around Japan, I would recommend this book.

Strange Coincidences of Life

I recently read the book, The empty mirror : experiences in a Japanese Zen monastery by Janwillem Van de Wetering.

It was an ok book. The author traveled to Japan in the 1950's to learn about Zen Buddhism and live in a Zen monastery. From my reading, my view is that he did not learn much. It seems he was feeling the interest in Zen based on it's new popularity within the new 50's lifestyle of beatniks and others.

Although I understand how difficult life is in a Zen monastery, the author clearly did not want to partake fully in the requirements of the Zen monastery. He gave a hint of this in the book by revealing how he often slept in late or pretended he was sick in order to avoid the daily early morning zazen sessions. My feeling is his slacking was probably much more then he revealed in the book.

Here is something strange or bizarre. I finished reading the book about July 1st or 2nd 2008. On July 5th, I decided to look the author up in Wikipedia. As you can see from the Wiki article, the author had just passed away the day before on July 4th 2008. Just one of those bizarre little coincidences in life I guess.

Book - Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind

I am currently reading the book Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Shunryu Suzuki. The book comes from a series of talks by Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki.

The book is broken up into three parts, Right Practice, Right Attitude, and Right Understanding. They refer roughly to Body, Feeling, and Mind. I have just started the first section, Right Practice. This section describes the practice of Zazen or meditation.

Things I've learned:

The book focuses on Shojin, or beginner's mind. To me that means to keep an open mind and a fresh mind. To someone who is a beginner, everything they learn is new and fresh and has special meaning. The idea is to maintain that feeling, the beginner's mind, throughout Zen practice.

The explanation of correct posture, breathing, etc. in zazen. By concentrating on your breathing or your back, you are organizing yourself. Which leads to order for our mind. It is impossible to organize things if you yourself are not in order. When you do things the right way, at the right time, everything else will be organized. You are the boss. When the boss is sleeping, everyone is sleeping. When the boss does something right, everyone will do everything right, at the right time. That is the secret of Buddhism (p. 27).

Book - Living and Dying in Zazen

I recently finished reading a book called Living and Dying in Zazen – Five Zen Masters of Modern Japan by Arthur Braverman. I am not a Buddhist. I am not that familiar with Buddhism and just wanted to learn a little about it. I have also read a little about Pure Land Buddhism, particularly the Jodo Shinshu or True Pure Land School.

This book is about the author who went to Japan to study Zen in the early 70’s practicing at a small temple called Antaiji in Kyoto. The five Zen teachers are Kodo Sawaki, Sodo Yokoyama, Kozan Kato, Motoko Ikebe and Kosho Uchiyama. The book talks a little about life at Antaiji which was an unusual Japanese temple in that it welcomed foreigners to practice and live there.

The book is an interesting read and gave some insight into Zen Buddhism and specifically zazen, the act of sitting in meditation. But what the book did the most was give the feeling wishing I could have met some of these Zen teachers, especially Uchiyama and Yokoyama. It is rare that I will read a book more than once but that is what I did with this book. After finishing the book I wanted to read about these individuals again and about their strong devotion particularly to zazen.

I won’t get into a full explanation of the book here but if you are at all interested in Zen Buddhism or just want to read about this aspect of Japan in the early 70s, then I highly recommend this book.