It was the Zen that I stumbled across during my university days that led to a deep reading on the subject after graduation, which culminated in my coming to live in Japan. Ryoan-ji was a name that appeared again and again in those old books. Naturally I made an immediate beeline to the place the first time I went to Kyoto.
That initial visit was a disappointment, as it was crowded and noisy. I took in the famous garden for a little bit and wandered around to the back of the temple in a dark mood. There I discovered the tsukubai sitting mossy and green and alone by itself. And there I found the stillness that I had sought. It was only later that I learned, with great irony, that the characters on this famous stone basin can be read as “I am content with what I have.”
Since then I have returned dozens of times, most often as a guide. It never fails in being crowded and noisy. Like most of the iconic sites of Kyoto, I vowed I would never go as a paying civilian, except in times of great snow.
But the feeling still nagged me. I wanted to see the garden in the same way as the great Zenmen of old. And so it was that I woke with the sun and I arrived at the front gates not long before they opened.
And I finally got the garden to myself. For seven glorious minutes…
On the turntable: Levon Helm, "Levon Helm"
3 comments:
Your writing makes me want to visit Japan.
I too was drawn to Japan by Ryoanji. I have been there a dozen times, most often as first person in at 8 where a glorious 50 or 60 minutes of quiet can be had before the noisy, disrespectful groups pile in. I have learned that they remain maybe 15 minutes and it can be quiet again, for a period of time before the next. This is my very special place and I my special grouping of rocks, too.
Looking for tranquility, it's usually better to go to the smaller temples in the countryside.Even though they are smaller, they may well have nice gardens and more character than the touristy ones in the big metropolises.
And thee is a surprising number of them.
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