Old Buildings, Living Essence
- At February 01, 2023
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
Ever since I got to Sendai, I have been fascinated by old houses scattered around the city and countryside. At first, most were still lived in and held a charm and wonder that only old things have. In fact, my friend Shuhei told me that in Japan well used items are highly revered. They are considered almost sacred for the essence and history they bear.
Over the years, especially since the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, much of Sendai has been, and still is being, rebuilt. More and more new homes and developments are devouring the city. I find most are soul-less and depressing without gardens or even a tree.
In contrast, though, many old places remain. A large number of them are empty and falling to ruin. Others are appear lived in, as if the owner will soon return from work. And maybe they will. Sometimes it is hard to tell if a shack is still a home or once was.
(Actually, a precious 92 year old lady lives in this home. She has been there since she got married about 70 years ago. She is an anchor of the neighborhood. Everyone knows and loves her.)
Inhabited or not, all of these places emit a rather haunting feeling, a mystery, a long history of stories, both happy and sad.
I love exploring my neighborhood and beyond. It has many narrow, winding streets, which surely began long ago as footpaths. Of course, on these excursions of discovery, I take a camera and delight in adding to my collection of memories.
It seems I am not the only one who enjoys this pastime. I recently learned of a group of photographers who have been recording old buildings in this area for years. They are currently holding an exhibition called Sendai Collection.
And what a collection it is! Photo after teeny photo of black and white shots from 2000 to 2022. These are punctuated with ones a bit larger for variety and orientation. The show covers several rooms. At first the sheer number seemed overwhelming. But as I started looking closely at each picture, I found myself completely absorbed. Each building, each home contained a deep spirit that spoke profoundly and nostalgically. Who had lived there? What quiet wisdom does that building have to share?
To my surprise, I found several images of places I myself had photographed, some very close to my home. Some looked the same, others more weatherworn, yet still, more or less, intact. The literally thousands of photos in the show were a treasure trove, requiring many visits to appreciate fully.
What I appreciated just as much as the pictures were the other visitors. Many were huddled with friends around a photo, examining and discussing everything in great detail. Surely, they were the living history that those buildings now reflect.
Of course, the relentless rebuilding in Sendai will continue to march forward. And the Sendai Collection photographers will continue recording that evolution. For them, perhaps, part of their work involves both reminiscence and a looking ahead. But for me, it is more an ongoing discovery into the profound essence of this culture, with its stories, mysteries, and wonderment that never cease to captivate me to the core of my being.
Love,
Anne
Mashiko Town
- At January 13, 2023
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
One of my favorite persons in Sendai is Ito San, my travel agent. She has her own company now, but before that she was a tour guide. She held that job for almost twenty years. So, she knows every nook and cranny of this country. And she has an amazing memory of what she has seen and done. Plus, she knows her clients well and designs tours to suit their preferences. In other words, she is wonderful!
For years Ito San urged me to visit Mashiko Town. “It is famous for pottery. You will love it.” She always said, adding, “There is a long street lined with pottery shops. So, I know it will interest you.”
From her description, I envisioned shops, all pretty much alike, all selling the same sorts of things. I am not interested in that kind of experience while traveling, so have always politely opted out. However, when planning a recent trip for a friend and me, she slipped in Mashiko as part of the tour. I did not have the energy to resist, so went along with it.
I am glad I did.
What a euphoric surprise Mashiko was! Yes, there is a major road cutting through it, but otherwise, it is a charming town with traditional buildings, several with thatched roofs.
Everywhere the long history of pottery-making is promoted. There are posters with old photos throughout the town.
And each shop features unique, handmade pieces that can only be considered pure art. Shop after shop is a feast of artistic wonder.
Pottery masterpieces are everywhere: in restaurants, hotels, the train station, the museum, and even public toilets. It was magical to walk around the town, discovering one gorgeous item after another.
Mashiko’s pottery Master was Hamada Shoji (1894-1978). He was designated a Living National Treasure. Even today, his influence permeates every inch of Mashiko and far beyond. He is world renown.
In addition to pottery, there is one studio specializing in indigo dyeing. Everything there is natural. The building itself is traditional and all the dyes are plant-based. From beginning to end the process is done by hand. The results are gorgeous.
Our time in Mashiko was too short. There are temples and shrines still to visit. And the countryside is filled with fields and farms, so beautiful any time of the year.
When I returned to Sendai, of course, I visited Ito San. I humbly thanked her for planning a trip that included Mashiko. She smiled and said, “See, I told you!”
She knows me well. So, the next time she suggests a place, I am sure to agree right away. I know I will not be disappointed.
Love,
Anne
A Japanese New Year
- At January 13, 2023
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
January 3, 2023
Dear Family and Friends,
Of course, everywhere people celebrate the New Year. But in Japan there seems to be an added dimension to honor that special occasion. お正月 (Oshogatsu) is deeply spiritual and marked by subtle, but highly significant rituals.
I was fortunate to experience this New Year with a visiting friend. Last year Izumi and I were together at her home. So, she took charge of what we did. But this time it was up to me to meaningfully present Japanese customs and traditions.
One very important part of it is New Year’s ritual foodおせち料理 (O-sechi). This beautifully arranged feast is first an offering to the Gods. Afterwards, it is for the family to enjoy with shared time together. There is always plenty, with enough for leftovers. Traditionally, that was a way to thank the women of the house by giving them a few days’ break from their never-ending household tasks.
And what a feast it is! O-sechi containers come in tiers, each with specific choices of fish, meats, cooked vegetables, seaweed, and sweets. Of course, each layer is both breathtakingly beautiful and highly symbolic.
O-sechi boxes are first opened on New Year’s Day. But midnight on the 31st is also highly significant. People who can go to Shinto Shrines to pray. They also buy charms so as to learn the direction of their fortunes for the year.
My friend and I headed out a bit early to see what was happening. We passed a lovely small shrine that was well lit up. Whether worshippers came or not did not matter. Honoring the Kami (God/desses) is always crucial, especially at times when Heaven is a bit more accessible, such as now, the New Year.
We finally arrived at Aoba Jingu, which is an important shrine in Sendai. To my surprise, it was almost dark and besides us, no one was there. Even so, we stood before the altar with its huge round Shinto mirror, bowed, clapped, prayed, and bowed again.
We were not ready to leave. Fortunately, we found a bench, so sat and immersed ourselves in the profound stillness around us. Gradually a few people arrived. Then a few more. And a few more, until there was a steady stream of worshippers waiting patiently for their turn to approach the altar and make their New Year salutations.
Aoba Shrine is in a very old area that has an arc of Shinto Shrines and Buddhist Temples lining the street. At exactly 23:30, a nearby temple sounded its gong. The deep vibrations reverberated across the entire neighborhood. The echoing sound was haunting and touched deeply into the core of being.
Soon after, another gong sounded and yet another. Each was from a different temple. Each had its own particular vibration, its own unique energy and message. Together they harmonized to promise a unified whole.
Even so, the sounds were uneven and irregular. Some were close and loud, others distant and faint. The darkness, punctuated by a few lights, plus the reverberating sound of the gongs, gave a profoundly sacred texture to the night. Indeed, the entire atmosphere was filled with deep mystery and unspeakable awe.
For me, that experience was probably the most spiritually significant. But honoring the New Year was far from over. The following day and the day after, people continued to flock to shrines. It is important to do so in order to let go of the past and to start the New Year with purity and grace.
Hopefully, those ideals and the generosity of spirit they promise will reverberate throughout the entire world and become a reality that everyone everywhere has the courage and maturity to share.
Love,
Anne
The Japanese Mind
- At December 04, 2022
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
Today in my advanced English class we talked about “the Japanese Mind” and how it differed from Western ways of thinking. Of course, we touched up “collective and individualistic cultures” and their differing mindsets. That led to natural disasters and their influence on the Japanese psyche. In times of emergency, the Japanese know they have to act collectively, literally to survive. And of course, being an island nation with a history of years of enforced isolation has also contributed to what could be considered a very unique mindset.
I have lived many years in Japan and have made great efforts to understand the Japanese way of thinking. Even now, I continually try and fit in to this society. However, I realize over and over again that the structure of my psyche will always be American. Let me give you a few examples.
I take T’ai Chi lessons in a program with about seven teachers. Each teacher specializes in one form and we students choose which group we would like join. I did one form for a year. But the teacher and I thought so differently that it was better for me to go elsewhere when the year was up.
Our differences came mostly because I raised my hand and boldly asked questions. The teacher was not used to that. She felt I was confronting her. I was not. I respected her knowledge, and therefore, asked her advice. The other students, without the teacher knowing, told me they appreciated my questions because they dared not ask themselves. For them, if they asked questions, they felt they would have stood out too much. That would have embarrassed them. It may have also brought shame to the teacher for not instructing in a way that made questions unnecessary. The teacher could never come to see the situation from my perspective. So, I felt it was better to change groups.
My next teacher was a university professor, so he was fine with my questions. But in this group, too, I stood out as very non-Japanese, but in another way. I had joined after the other members had worked on a particular form for a year. I came in a complete beginner. There were all levels of proficiency. So, the good students were in the front and the struggling ones in the back. I, of course, was in the very back row.
However, in that humble position I could not see the proper way to do a form. I really wanted to learn. So, I simply moved forward to be next to one of the advanced students. At first, the teacher looked rather startled. But he quickly figured out what I was doing. So, after that, every week he assigned me to the front. I appreciated his understanding and flexibility very much.
There is one thing that amazes me, though. And it might be considered another example of “the Japanese Mind”. The stumbling students in the back, despite being surrounded by only ill-performers, eventually learned how to do the form properly. They seemed to intuit the right way. I, on the other hand, despite the special treatment I am getting, am still struggling with basics.
Later this same teacher could not come to class. He left instructions what we were to do. We realized what he assigned would never fill the two-hour lesson. So, everyone seemed to panic. As they buzzed and fretted, I simply said, “We are adults. We can choose for ourselves. And Wako San is the best in our group, so maybe she can lead us today.”
As soon as I said that, everyone stopped talking and jumped back, staring at me as if I were some sort of monster. Some even had their mouths open in utter surprise. I just shrugged, backed off , and let them continue deliberating.
The following week, the teacher was again absent. Everyone turned to me and said, “What are we going to do today, Anne.” I was startled and said it depended on what everyone wanted. Again, they were surprised by my response. But eventually one man took over and since then he has been our leader. Everyone seems relieved that way.
But one unexpected addition to this arrangement is that now the more advanced students deliberately help those of us who are struggling. Instead of lining up by ability, we are mixed together. People ask questions and whoever can is delighted to assist. So, it really is a team effort. And that makes me feel happiest of all.
Love,
Anne
An Autumn Outing
- At November 04, 2022
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Andrew’s Visit
- At October 05, 2022
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
Andrew is retired now, so is free to do things he has always wanted to do. One is to study the Japanese language. His interest in Japan began when he and Janet lived in a rural area of Nagano Prefecture, teaching English, of course.
His stories from there are very interesting. Probably my favorite was of an older woman with her friend on a local train. When they arrived at her friend’s stop, they both went to the door to say good-bye. Both bowed deeply. Even after the train pulled away, the older lady kept bowing for at least another stop. Obviously, she was bowing her profound gratitude, rather than a good-bye.
Another was when their contract ended. Their train left early in the morning, but even so, the station was filled with all their young students. Each had a present to offer their two beloved teachers. Janet and Andrew’s bags were full, but they graciously accepted the gifts. Everyone waved, not bowing, good-bye as the train pulled out of the station.
Andrew has continued plugging away at Japanese for many years since then. As a retired language teacher, he knows that being here, taking a formal course, would be the best way to learn. So, he came to Japan, hopefully for six months.
And last week, he kindly came to see me. That provided good motivation for me to get out and visit some interesting places.
The first was for a massage.
Sushi that night for dinner.
There is a Basho museum up another hill. So, we headed there, too. It was small, but the calligraphy pieces were breathtaking in their subtlety of color and graciousness of brush strokes.
And of course, more food. Yamadera has excellent cuisine, so we indulged. Andrew told me it was maybe one of the best meals he had ever had in Japan.
Love,
Anne
Shinto Festival
- At October 05, 2022
- By anneblog
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
A friend told me about a Shinto festival at Sendai’s Osaki-Hachiman-Jingu Shrine today. I had not been to one of their events in a long time, so decided to go. My friend’s son would be there helping. That, of course, added to my eagerness to attend.
As soon as my friend’s son could crawl and make his wishes known, he demanded that his mom take him to the Shrine so he could spend time with the priests. They loved him, of course, and let him crawl around, exploring as he wished. He has been going there ever since, and now at age eleven is happy to serve when and now he can.
I was not sure what to expect today. Osaki-Hachiman-Jingu has a variety of festivals throughout the year. For example, there a special day to honor and protect firemen. And another that entails competitions on horseback. Riders gallop at full speed along a short, narrow pathway, shooting arrows at targets set along the course. Onlookers are alarmingly nearby. And of course, there is Dontosai, held in the dead of winter. For that, male participants wear only loincloths (woman a bit more), and walk through the city ringing bells as they head to the Shrine. There New Year decorations are burned in huge bonfires.
So, what should I expect today?
Several blocks away from Osaki-Hachiman-Jingu, I could already hear the continuous whining drone of flutes and the slow, steady beat of drums. I wandered past festival food stalls
In the first one I watched, the dancers were not professional. Rather they were ordinary men connected to the Shrine.
I stayed for two dances and then slowly wandered around the grounds. Several small side Shrines have recently been constructed.
If I were younger, I probably would have stayed to the very end of the dances. But I knew I had to get home before becoming too tired. And I had an hour to walk home. The shrill drone of the flutes, and even throbbing of the drums followed me until I could no longer hear them. Of course, I knew the dances were continuing without me.
Although leaving before the end was something new for me, I rather liked it. I found it symbolic of my aging. And an important reality that I am working to come to terms with, and to accept with grace.
Leaving while the performances were continuing also allowed my day to come full cycle. It began it with Takemitsu Toru’s piece called “from me flows what you call time”. That is surely a prayer set to music and very much related to the eternal unfolding of life.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWipy3Q6gAI
Love,
Anne
New Life
- At April 16, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Last year I focused on the flowers themselves. Their suggestion of other dimensions, of ethereal realities goes far beyond words, to the realm of pure feeling. This year, however, my eye moved more to the people enjoying a day together, welcoming the joys of this hopeful season.
Their delight was in pure contrast to international news, which has absorbed much of my attention in recent months. There are so many worries and questions today. How can anyone applaud an escalation of war as a way to “mean business” and to solve very complex problems? How can people believe the intricately woven stories that divert us from the truth of human dignity, especially of those suffering the most?
The United Airline disaster is yet another example of “might as right”, but this time, thankfully, gone terribly wrong. Can we believe the apologies of CEO Oscar Munoz? Are they genuinely sincere, and not motivate by economic concerns alone?
It seems to me that if Mr. Munoz really wanted to express a change of attitude and values, he would do more than apologize and reimburse passengers the cost of that infamous flight. Has it occurred to him to use a percentage of his enormous salary (14 million dollars in 2016) and all of his bonus money over the years (He may receive yet another $500,000 soon) on an ongoing basis to contribute to organizations that work with victims of police brutality, domestic violence, and child abuse? Has he thought of including United Airlines, Inc. as part of that contribution to the betterment of society?
As I watched ordinary people today together celebrating the return of new life, I realized how truly beautiful our humanity is. And hopefully, the disturbing descent of our values to the lowest common denominator will find reason to change direction, moving us upward to embrace something both new and as old as the universe itself. Spring, the promise of new life for everyone, not just those at the top.
Love,
Anne
Moving Forward, March 11, 2017
- At March 11, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
The world has moved on from March 11, 2011: the era of The Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami. In fact, that time is a distant memory as the world plunges deeper and deeper into wars, chaos, uncertainties, and distrust. And sadly, each day the news is increasingly filled with more and deeper heart-stopping events.
So have we really moved forward?
What about other dimensions of human expression?
How has the world progressed on the level of the heart?
Compassion
Non-Violent Communication
Tolerance
Humility
Forgiveness
Can we honestly say we are making efforts to mature these traits in today’s complicated and confused world?
Surely in many small ways we try.
Carefully, attentively, profoundly.
Today March 11, we blessed our memories and our lives with deep reflection.
Michelle & JoJo, Photo by Ali Asaei
Love,
Anne
Moving Forward, March 11, 2017
- At March 11, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
The world has moved on from March 11, 2011: the era of The Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami. In fact, that time is a distant memory as the world plunges deeper and deeper into wars, chaos, uncertainties, and distrust. And sadly, each day the news is increasingly filled with more and deeper heart-stopping events.
So have we really moved forward?
What about other dimensions of human expression?
How has the world progressed on the level of the heart?
Compassion
Non-Violent Communication
Tolerance
Humility
Forgiveness
Can we honestly say we are making efforts to mature these traits in today’s complicated and confused world?
Surely in many small ways we try.
Carefully, attentively, profoundly.
Today March 11, we blessed our memories and our lives with deep reflection.
Michelle & JoJo, Photo by Ali Asaei
Love,
Anne
Sternness & Love
- At February 06, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Imai Sensei and Aoki Sensei do so much more than feed the homeless. They give them showers and wash their clothes. They help find jobs and inexpensive apartments. They schedule sessions with lawyers for legal advice – about their individual rights and how best to adhere to city laws.
Yomawari, Imai Sensei and Aoki Sensei’s group, have rules, but enforce them lovingly. They refuse any form of drunkenness. The other day one man arrived reeling from alcohol, stinking from not bathing, clothes torn, and socks so damaged that a web of filthy cracks and splinters peeked through the heels. This guest swayed in, shouting jokes, causing a huge uproar. Volunteers smiled and laughed politely at his antics, but Imai Sensei was not amused. He told the noisy, smelly man to leave immediately. Sternly, yes. But also lovingly.
“Here. Take this food. Take these clothes. Come back on Monday when you can get a bath and your clothes washed. But don’t ever come back drunk. Now good-bye.”
A ban, yes. But also fairness and an open door.
I gaze at an apartment near this park, and wish it were home.
Imai Sensei always says, “The homeless are human beings like you and me. The only difference is they have fallen on very bad luck. We must focus on their humanity and give opportunities for their very best to shine through.”
Love,
Anne
I think we can do
- At January 25, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Living overseas as an American these days is extremely interesting. It is also unsettling, confusing, and challenging. Many friends ask me what is going on it my country. They want reassurance and hope. I am never quite sure what to say. But I talk about the resistance to Trump, happily gaining momentum daily. I try to reassure them that America knows the importance of a good relationship with Japan. Even so, people are very uneasy. Yet being thoughtfully Japanese, they think of my feelings, too. And so, they give me reassurance — mostly because they themselves are seeking it.
And after Trump’s election, a friend wrote to me.
I wish USA would be greater than ever.
And the Great USA would help other Countries like Mexico or Japan.
I think “GREAT” means SOFT, KIND, THOGHTFUL, CALM, and WARM ! ! !
It does not mean “A LOT OF MONY”, I am sure.
“Mr. Trump wa, GREAT no imi wa hakkiri saseteimasen.”
(Mr. Trump, the meaning of GREAT is not to decisively cut and pierce.)
So, do not worry!
Mr. Trump could change America better than ever.
I hope so.
In a later e-mail she said:
But half of the number in USA chose “America first”.
I think many people would find out soon that “Together” would be better than “America first”.
I wish he would be good person . . .
Let’s try we can do.
Even as we resist, let’s try.
I think we can do.
Anne
Dontosai
- At January 14, 2017
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Dear Family and Friends,
On that sacred day people gather their decorations and flock to the nearest Shinto shrine. There they toss their offerings into bonfires that roar and hiss as the flames are fed into full abundance.
What makes this festival unique is not so much the bonfires, however, as the people. Participants join colleagues, dressed in thin cotton outfits and straw sandals. They walk together through the city ringing bells and shivering their way to the nearest shrine. They carry lanterns and hold paper in their mouths to control their chattering teeth and to give them a focus beyond the piercing cold. Once at the shrine area, they circle the bonfires, rejoicing in the warmth, as other worshipers throw their decorations into the flames.
Regular worshippers, fully dressed for winter’s bitterness, also head to the altar to pray. They, too, ring bells, bow, ask for blessings.
Japanese say they are not religious, and maybe they are not. But they all recognize the power of superstitions and live by them. People of all ages go to shrines on Dontosai. They pray, they eat, they buy expensive decorations and Daruma dolls, immediately throwing them into the fire.
God bless the world as we, Japanese or not, strive for purity and humility, as we seek forgiveness and start this year with endless courage to endure.
Love,
Anne
A Soothing Cup of Tea
- At December 18, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Despite the upcoming holidays, the world is bleeding deeply and tragically. A profound sense of foreboding is seeping in everywhere. It would be easy to succumb to the uncertainty of these times, even as they bring values into acute focus.
I could be overwhelmed. But one reassuring thought has emerged in these past tumultuous weeks. “You are not in this alone. Small groups can birth a flexible strength to keep freedom of thought and expression alive. Don’t give up. The work is just beginning.”
I try to relax.
Kon-Sei-En Tea Shop (今清園) is indeed harmonious and soothing. It has tatami floors, huge earthen pots, and well loved wooden tea boxes. “We don’t use these anymore,” the owner explains. “Tea is well packaged now, so these boxes are no longer necessary. But they are beautiful, aren’t they? They are like old friends, so we keep them.”
Yayoe Konno and her sister-in-law, Noriko Konno, were both born in Shizuoka, the tea growing area of Japan. They came to Sendai as young brides and now are the only ones left honoring the shop’s old ways.
It is indeed a ceremony. Or maybe better a ritual. An ancient and sacred one. I savor the vivid green bitterness, and my soul is indeed soothed. Tea’s continuity through war and peace, through poverty and riches, through hard times and prosperity holds a profound reassurance. We are making dangerously ignorant choices at the moment. But as we “little people’ join together and work relentlessly for freedom of thought and expression, there is surely hope for a better tomorrow.
Love,
Anne
Sharing Communities
- At November 04, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Recently I had the pleasure of reading an article in The Catholic Worker about one of its Hospitality Houses, St. Joseph’s. It was written by a volunteer, Megan Townsend, who regularly goes there to serve and to socialize with the many others who grace St. Joe’s with their unique and important presence.
The more I read this short, but profound article, the more I realized it reflected much of what Imai Sensei’s Yomawari does for the homeless here in Sendai. Let me quote a few excerpts to illustrate what I mean.
“As I volunteered more often and got to know this … interdependent community, it felt a lot less like service and a lot more like sharing . . . As I watched people on the house at St. Joe’s greeting people . . . I observed this casual ease of giving.
“. . . I admired the way they would act as if giving away whatever they could was just something they should do. It is natural . . . I would watch volunteers at St. Joe’s ask someone their name, shake their hand, and then joke with them as if they had known each other for years (which in some cases they have!) . . . Asking someone their name is just the beginning of the relationship, an invitation to community.
“The importance of humanizing each other . . . (allows each of us to) feel known and loved . . . My greatest joy is . . . making acts of serving (be) . . . familiar rather than impersonal.”
Last week I had the privilege of taking two students to volunteer at Imai Sensei’s soup run. One had been before, and since the experience impressed her so deeply, she asked a friend to join her. It was lovely watching them interacting with the men and women, both volunteers and guests. They treated all the people there with great kindness and respect, just as they themselves were treated.
Love,
Anne
Arahama & Mosul
- At October 18, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Every morning when I greet the dawn, I wish that I were by the sea. As I watch light slowly unfolding the day, I can easily sense the ceaseless rhythm and energy that only waves, tides, and the vast expanses of sky can bring. Today after my morning ritual, I went inside and listened to the news. I learned of the well-planned offensive to recapture Mosul from ISIS’s relentless strangle and grasp. I thought of the ensuing, bloody tug of wars, ferocious between all sides. Each has strong beliefs and accepts that death is a necessary part of change. The more it dawned on me what lay ahead for Mosul, for all concerned, the more I felt the literal pull of the sea.
The coast is easy to get to from Sendai and does not take long. So, I heeded my intuition and went. I passed newly built homes, sadly with no grass, no trees, no gardens. I wondered what sort of mental and emotional world we have been creating since Tohoku’s life-altering events of 2011. Where is the famed Japanese connection to nature and to land? But thankfully, further on we passed newly harvested rice paddies and barns filled with tools to work our precious earth.
Arahama, the shore area, had not changed much since last March when I went there to pray for the soul of the dead. Huge trucks still lumber by, explanatory bulletin boards dot construction sites, and the tsunami-damaged school is still standing, and will continue to do so as a memorial to what people lost or left behind.
Pulled by the cyclical call of the tides, I worked my way to the beach. Once there I thought about Nature and death, of war and death. I pondered whether at this stage in humanity’s eternal evolution we need to fight, to have a life-threatening challenge to pull us decisively away from noise and glut and even wisely given counsel, so as to discover our own unique voice and the ground of who we are. Are we yet consciously our core?
The waves rolled and I felt the eternal dance of earth with moon. I watched the resultant tides, smooth today, but always harboring the possibility of turbulence and destruction within. I also deeply felt the horror of misplaced idealism, coupled with tribal wars: Mosul today, the world past and tomorrow.
Conflict and destruction are innate in all expressions of existence. But equally so, maybe more so, are harmony and efforts to transform the past and shape a world that is fair and honors all.
Love,
Anne
Yasukuni Shrine, Part II
- At October 02, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
War is something that I cannot get my mind around. It is completely incomprehensible to me. But precisely because wars are so prevalent today, I feel an urgency to try and understand why people resort to violence to solve their controversies. And coupled with that questioning is the universal tendency to highly revere soldiers who die in combat, no matter how alarming or questionable the conflict may have been. This effort to understand is not to condone war, not at all. It is rather a desire to get a glimpse into the psychology behind that unfortunate choice of behavior.
I wandered slowly and found monuments in honor of all those who sacrificed in war: from combat horses to mothers and wives grieving their slain loved ones. The sincerity and devotion of worshippers struck a deep cord, as one after another bowed, clapped twice, prayed, and bowed again. There was a sense of being absolved, of purifying one’s inner and outer being in order to move out into the world with greater clarity and purpose.
The energy at Yasukuni Jingu was intense, but subtle. Even though the shrine is relatively new, the long stretch of history could be felt everywhere, rising from the rich black earth of the complex itself. The accompanying museum depicted this land’s wars for literally 1000s of years as it struggled with shifting identities and changes in power.
Earlier eras seemed to express the “Art of War” with magnificent armor and breathtaking swords made by master craftsmen. As history worked its way closer to the 20th century, however, the horrors of conflict became more apparent and relentless.
What touched me most deeply in recent wars was a replica Kamikaze airplane. It was suspended graciously from the ceiling, a delicate Sakura blossom on the tip, a round red sun behind. I could sense the vulnerability and resolved determination of those highly intelligent, acutely aware young men, consciously flying to their deaths.
I thought of today’s terrorists and wondered what contrasts and parallels will be found as research opens up some of the unanswered complexities of past and current wars stemming from people’s troubling beliefs and actions.
Yasukuni Jingu is indeed a very meaningful Japanese memorial.
Anne
(1) Even though the friend who told me about his meaningful visit to Yasukuni Shrine equating it with the Budou Mind, other Japanese friends challenged that belief. They pointed out that the Budou Mind existed long before Yasukuni Shrine was built. And in fact, its purpose was in direct contrast to it.
The Budou Mind has been used for centuries for physical, mental, and spiritual training. The Boshin War ended the rule of the Shogunate, ushering in the Meiji Era in 1868. At that time Japan wanted to reestablish the Emperor system and become more like the West. She wanted to do away with traditional, “outdated” forms of military and mental preparedness that the Budou training represented. Therefore, the fine art of Budou was downplayed in order for Japan to become more “forward thinking” and to “catch up” with Western powers.
More specifically, Yasukuni Shrine is devoted to Japanese who fought and died for the Empire of Japan, which existed from 1868 to 1947. That is, from the reestablishment of the Emperor system in the Meiji Era through the Taishou and part of the Showa Periods.
Other buildings in that complex honor non-Japanese who served Japan. And yet another building commemorates all those who died in WWII, no matter their nationality. There is also a museum that depicts the history of conflicts in this archipelago for over 2300 years.
By equating Yasukuni Jingu with the Budou Mind, my friend has blended Budou with Japanese nationalism. However, they are actually very distinct, even directly opposed to one another. In fact, in today’s Japan, religion and politics are separate. No Japanese Emperor has ever visited Yasukuni Shrine since WWII, although several Prime Ministers have.
In 1952, over 40 million’s signatures were gathered by Japanese people in order to acquit A, B and C class war criminals. The number of signatures were about half of the population at the time. Then the Japanese government decided that they weren’t criminals anymore at least in Japan. Although it doesn’t mean Asian neighbors think the same way and the Tokyo Trial is overturned, it is no doubt about the half of Japanese at that time forgave them. I personally think the militaristic government are responsible for the war as a top, but I want to value the decision by the Japanese people.
Yasukuni Shrine, Part I
- At September 24, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Yasukuni Shrine is extremely controversial. It is a Shinto Shrine that was built to commemorate Japanese war dead. Every country honors its fallen soldiers. So in that way Yasukuni Shrine is not unique. But what makes it questionable is that WWII convicted Class-A war criminals, performing crimes against humanity, are also interred there. And in the past few years, several Prime Ministers have gone to pay their respects to fallen heroes, not distinguishing between those who served the country honorably and those who abominably abused their positions of power. (1) Understandably, countries neighboring Japan are furious by the overt display of nationalism that these visits by Prime Ministers seem to suggest.
I personally detest war. Of course, I recognize any body’s need for an immune system, and a country’s obligation to protect itself. So, I understand the necessity of a military, even though I would love a world where the armed forces were obsolete: a world mature enough to dialogue solutions to conflict, and willing to work for the whole of humankind, not narrowly focused on national self interests. But that is wishful thinking, and I know it.
The other day a friend, a man who has practiced Kendo for years, told me of his recent visit to Yakukuni Shrine.
“Because the Japanese Mind is so strongly felt there.”
“The Japanese Mind?”
“Yes, Budou, ‘martial arts’, as you say in English. But that is not a good translation. It only touches the surface. The Budou Mind covers so much more, is so much deeper. It entails every ounce of our being, our keen focus, our complete Heart, our total Mind.
“But it is more than that, too. It is a discipline, a training that guides us to become not only single-mindedly focused, but also very intuitive. It is as if our whole being is open, listening, receptive. And in that state, we give, even as we receive what our surroundings have to offer and what we ourselves emit. It is a sacred experience. It is the unique Japanese way of being in the world.”
“Sorry, I don’t understand.” I said in wonder, “Is this allowed only to Japanese, or can others develop it also? Are Japanese born with it, or must it be trained into them?”
He went on to say, “We are this from before we were conceived. It is our soul. It is all around us. It is part of our traditional culture. It is how our society operates.
“One everyday example is gift giving. Whenever we meet someone, we take a gift. It is a way to honor that person. It shows our humility and respect for them. It is also a subtle way of honoring the gods. ‘I recognize the god in you’, as we bow before that person, offering our gift. In turn we receive the joy that can only come from giving.”
“But . . . but what does this have to do with your need to go to Yasukuni Shrine?” I asked, still uncertain.
“Everything.
“Budou energy is highly concentrated there. Even though it is often full of people demonstrating against war, the place is profoundly peaceful. Silent, deeply silent. Going there put me in touch with what it means to be Japanese in the truest sense of the word.”
“As a Japanese? Is that where you place your identity?”
“I place my identity not in this country, but in its Mind. It is subtle, it is deep, it goes to the core of my being. While at Yasukuni Shrine, I feel that power with every part of who I am.”
I thought about what my friend said, but was still very uncertain. I realized that my attitude was strongly influenced by what I had read of Japan in WWII. One small aspect of that complex and controversial issue was the plight of Kamikaze pilots. The militaristic government had taken the cream of what Japan had to offer — the best educated, the most cultured, the most intelligent young men — and had forced them to commit suicide for its own distorted purposes of nationalism, ego, and power. It covered over this vile abuse of the Budou Spirit by comparing those young men to the gracious, ephemeral beauty of cherry blossoms. How can Yasukuni Jingu be a spiritual place if such poisonous energy is an integral part of it?
“Anne, Anne,” he said to me, “the men at the top of the military government during WWII were the epitome of evil. Their sick minds and actions caused tremendous suffering. There is no doubt about that. But you have to look deeper. If you go down to the very foundation of life itself, you do not find evil. You find purity. You find goodness. You find an openness that can only express the essence of God, manifested in the very soul of humanity.
“The Kamikaze pilots did what they had to. They were forced to do it. If they had resisted, not only would they have been tortured and killed, but their families and anyone connected to them would have been severely punished, most probably murdered. The Kamikaze pilots did what they did in order to protect those they loved and who loved them. That is where they were great. That is where they were heroes. That is where they manifested the Budou Spirit.”
My friend’s words fascinated me. And because I always wish to test my own beliefs, I have decided to go to Yasukuni Jingu and see for myself what the place has to offer.
Love,
Anne
(1) For Japanese anyone who died for the country immediately becomes a “Kami”, or a god. In fact, according to Japanese Buddhism, when we die, we shed our human element, and become pure, divine essence.
The Bridge Under My Feet
- At September 11, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters, Uncategorized
- 0
9/11/2016
Dear Family and Friends,
9/11 burns and sears through the world psyche. Far from over, it rages relentlessly with no margins of forgiveness. And that is precisely why, now more than ever, it is essential to focus on what uplifts, what gives hope, what builds and rebuilds in the face of tragedy almost beyond the limits of our human capacity to grasp or to understand.
And sure enough, as you know well by now, rebuilding has been of prime importance these past five years in Tohoku. Reconstruction includes pretty much everything from the ground up. Roads, office buildings, and homes may be the most overt of these many changes. But there are others happening as well.
Right below where I live there is a small stream that winds its way between homes and gardens. The bridges over it are old and the water pipes under it are rickety. The narrow bridge nearest my apartment is one small structure, in one small neighborhood. Even so, the government realizes the importance of keeping it solid and strong. Hence repairs have been underway there for the past few months.
Signs let us know what is happening. “Please excuse the inconvenience as we install new, strong water pipes. We are doing this so that when the next earthquake comes you will be sure of having water.” Or “This bridge is being reinforced so you can go over it with confidence.” And “We care about your neighborhood, so are doing our best to make it safe for you.”
I either walk or ride my bike down that street daily, so the workmen know me, the lone foreigner in the area. I am often stopped so oncoming work vehicles can get by. And as I am waiting, one of the signalmen likes to chat. It turns out he speaks some English. “Hi. Where you from?” “I been to Niagara, Miami, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. America I like. My name is Asano Takashi, but please call me Hank.”
When I told him I wanted to write an article about the work he and his men were doing, he said, “Really? You crazy. This job very small, very, very small.” I asked him what would be better to write about. “Highways, big office buildings, the subway,” he said gesturing with wide-open arms.
“I know,” I replied, “but my theme is a bit different. I want to show the everyday life of people. I want my friends to know the many, many small things that are being done to rebuild this entire area of Tohoku. I think all these tiny repairs separately and together are very important.”
“I think you crazy,” he said with a beaming smile.
Maybe so, but precisely because of all the small, seemingly unimpressive repairs occurring everywhere, living here now can be very positive and uplifting. Of course, rebuilding is making life muddy and inconvenient; but it is also filling our psyches with hope. It gives a tremendous sense of security knowing the government cares enough to come to small neighborhoods to stabilize the very foundations upon which we live.
So indeed, the repairs happening on all levels, from the most impressive to the least significant, are all coming together to fortify our lives: our bodies, our minds, and our hearts. And that, in turn, allows us to look to each day positively and to the future with confidence that no matter what may come, we can and will endure.
Love,
Anne
Obon: Union of Heaven and Earth
- At August 15, 2016
- By anneblog
- In Annes Letters
- 0
Every year in mid-summer when rice paddies are poignantly green and fields are joyous with produce, three very special days, called Obon, are set aside for worship and for prayer. During that period, ancestors make a sacred and special pilgrimage to this earth’s dimension. They long to commune, to bless, and to be with those they left behind.
In return, the living flock to graves, adorning them with flowers, incense, sake, and prayer. Cities vacate as people return to hometowns, to the beloved land that holds generations of family devotion, duty, and bonds.
At night in particular the souls of the deceased come alive, haunting graveyards and temples. They are seeking loved ones, hovering close, eager to give needed assistance and care.
Anne