{Shikoku Hachijūhachikasho Meguri}

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Kōbō Daishi

I remind you of this because i was watching Gerald Koll's film about the henro trail, 88 — pilgrimage in japanese , last night, and decided that among those that do go to the island as a pilgrim, those that don't speak Japanese have the potential for the greatest experience. Like other henro i have known, Gerald spoke no Japanese when he got to Shikoku; nor could he read anything or understand anything said to him. In a sense, once he started walking, he was walking blind, deaf, and mute.

Walking the henro trail in this condition lays you bare. It forces to to rely on the kindness of others. It forces you to acknowledge your dependence on others. It knocks your ego to the ground and smashes it flat. You are at the mercy of everyone. In this condition, you learn to notice and appreciate even the smallest of kindnesses offered by others.

Over the years, i have defined the henro trail as many things. Before this year's walk, i wrote that the trail can be epitomized by the six Buddhist paramitas of generosity, morality, perserverence/patience, zeal/enthusiasm, meditation, and wisdom. After my first trip, i summarized it as simplicity, frugality, and determination. I'm not sure there's much difference between the two lists. Henro that live their lives based on the six paramitas, will undoubtably find that their lives are defined by simplicity, frugality, and determination.

As i wrote several years ago, by simplicity i don't mean living a simple life, although that will certainly also be true, but how utterly simple it is, when you open yourself to the henro trail, to find out who you really are. Life on the henro trail is a frugal life. You carry nothing more than the basic necessities, your daily routine is pared down to the simplest of routines — get up, eat, walk, eat, walk some more, bathe, eat, go to bed, then get up and do it again. Day after day after day. And this requires determination and perserverence.

I bring all of this up because having now finished my second trip around the trail i marvel at the change in my attitude over the years. When i finished back in '99, i was clearly disappointed and thought the walk was a waste of time. {sheepish grin.....} I obvioulsy don't thing that anymore. :-)

So what's the difference.

When i walked the trail the first time, i walked with an ego the size of Rhode Island. Of course i would have denied it, and it wasn't obvious then or now, but it was there — as evidenced by the massive brusing it received over the course of 54 days. I didn't need anyone's help. I didn't need help asking directions. I didn't need help reading signs. I didn't need help making room reservations. But at each of the 108 temples, when i got no more than: Stamp, Sign, "Hai, sanbyakuen desu" (Stamp my book, sign it, "there you go, that's 300 yen"), i was disappointed and disillusioned to no end. Each stamp pounded my ego a little deeper into a hole. "I" wasn't being given the experience "I" had expected and wanted.

As i read the poem by Kōbō Daishi at the top of the page, i marvel at how beautifully appropriate it is to my pilgrimage. If only i could have understood those words before i left for Shikoku back in '99. I went to Shikoku looking for something. Didn't think i was at the time — but i was. That has become evident to me over the years. I went to Shikoku in search of ... of ... well, in search of what you find when you walk a pilgrimage; whatever that is.

Intellectually i understood what Daishi-sama was talking about. On the surface of my life i knew that what he says is true, and had adapted my life accordingly. Yet i now know that below the surface i was still looking. Well, not exactly looking, that isn't the best way to phrase it. What i think i was doing then (and still am to a certain extent) was passively watching. I had this gut feeling that if i just watched long enough i was going to, some day, see ... see ... something. I didn't know what, i didn't know when, i didn't know where, and i didn't know why. But i think i was thoroughly convinced that i would see it when the time was right to see it.

You see, i went around the trail that first time with my focus on the temples themselves, where i thought i would find that something, and they turned out to be nothing but money making organizations. Their sole focus is/was getting all the money they can from henro while offering the least they can get away with. (Hence their attempt to become a World Heritage Site — which i oppose.) They are closed to the public. You have no access to anything. The only people you will meet will be those that sign your book and take your money. There is no attempt by the temple to interact with henro, unless you are a bus henro who has paid a lot of money to a bus company that has financial connections with the temples. Walking henro are expected to pay their 300 yen and move on.

The second time around, my focus had nothing to do with the temples. The second time around my attempt, over the course of each trip, was to end each day with fewer thoughts of myself than the day before and to appreciate each day's experience to the maximum extent possible. That meant learning to recognize even the smallest kindness and saying thank you. That meant learning to see the good in everything and everyone and acknowleding it. That meant learning to accept, allow, and accomodate. That meant putting my ego in a self-storage locker at the airport when i got to Japan and leaving it there while walking.

And, this is exactly what is required of those that walk with no Japanese language abilities, which is why i enjoyed Gerald's movie so much. It's not just the marvelous scenery he shot, but the fact that, whether he intended it or not, he very clearly shows what it means to be a henro — traveling to a site considered sacred by many and leaving yourself open to the gifts that site can and will offer. Accepting the trail's generosity and generously giving yourself in return. Dealing with adversity with patience and good humor. Perservering each and every day. And letting go of more and more of that Rhode Island-size ego while letting wisdom take its place.

Reminds me of what could be my all time favorite quote. It comes from a novel called The Warlords, but is definitely not fiction:

	Whoever or whatever it is that gives such things gives us our essence at birth.
	That essence then begins to unfold.
	To watch it unfold is to live.
	To watch it unfold with confidence and good humor is to follow the Way.

What makes the henro trail such a powerful experience for many people, i think, is that it offers you the chance to live in a state of perfect acceptance. Because of the nature of the walk, it forces you to simply walk, day in, day out, accepting whatever comes up and whatever happens. For most henro that walk, there is no structure other than to go from Temple 1 to Temple 1. To go from the beginning to the beginning. To go from the anticipation of setting off to the anticipation of arriving back at the same place.

The henro trail offers the chance, the first chance for many, to live in just this state. To just be. To simply live. To live simply, with no demands, no expectations, no promises of reward and no threats of punishment for what you do, or don't do, each day. For two months you experience what it is like to just live. To exists at the basic, get up, eat, walk, and go to bed level of existence.

This is also, i think, the allure of the monastic life for many. A chance to explore the quiet areas of your mind. To explore the silence that comes when you finally put a stop to the nonstop ramble of thoughts that life in the modern world forces through your brain. The henro trail, like the monastic life, allows you to explore the solitude that makes life sacred. Not only have the Buddhists always understood this, but so have the Christian mystics like Eckhart, St. John of the Cross, St. Theresa, and the modern Thomas Merton.

And that's why Shikoku calls to so many people. Silently, but with a deafening roar that sometimes drowns out all other thoughts.

Comments, criticisms, questions, and the like are always welcome. In fact, i would love to receive them. (Contact Information). Have a good day.

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