Pilgrimage 73 - Ichijo-ji, Part 2

After praying a little longer, I climbed up the steps to the next level. To the right is a three-tiered pagoda, a national treasure, to the left a small temple building used to keep sacred texts.

In front of me another flight of steps, leading up to the main temple building. There is a barrier across the steps, because the building is being renovated. I take the steps leading down into the valley, to the right. My destination is the temple dedicated to founder, the priest from India who came here so long ago and made this place his home.


Dark and still,
in shades of green as shadows
beckon
water glistens on the path
higher into the valley.


Coming down the steps I see to my right a small pond with a little temple in the middle--to Benzai-ten (Sarasvati) no doubt. I bow in respect. Along the pathway by me and further down small shrines--most probably 33 of them, one for each of the Saikoku pilgrimage temples. Across the pond a pathway leads into a grove of bamboo sprinkled with cedar and birth. I remember from an earlier visit that this leads to a Kumano shrine, beside which is an area for lighting a small fire and performing the necessary rituals associated with the Kumano ascetic tradition. Today I go to the left, further up the valley.


Your hand in mine,
the breeze wafting the mists,
as a bird's call
echoes through the trees
we walk over slippery stones.


Up another flight of steps is the Oku no In (literally, the temple at the back, or the temple in the recesses), the small temple building that has been set aside for worship of Houdou Sennin (Hermit of the Way of the Law), the founder of this and several other temples in the area.


A lone crane
flies across land and ocean
searching
for pure sweet water,
a place to settle, and teach.


Beyond the Oku no In, to the right, is a path. I wonder if it leads down to the other temple, the one dedicated to the worship of Jizo Bosatsu (Kshitigarbha Bodhisattva, the Earth Store Bodhisattva), but decide instead to take the steps that lead up behind the Oku no In to the left. There is a sign pose that says the path leads to Sai no Kawara.

The rain has not stopped but I do not bother with an umbrella. The cedars provide enough shelter and at first the pathway is made of stones large enough to serve as steps. But then they stop. Ahead of me, for perhaps as much as fifty feet, the valley floor rises to an abrupt end. I go up slowly. The stones are much smaller, but pathway indistinct. To left and right are little piles of stones -- maybe six, maybe a dozen piled one on top of the other. Here and there, beside them, maybe a pair of baby shoes, some candy (still wrapped up), miniature cars (the wind-up variety), a little plastic doll . . . . and at the end of the valley a slightly overhanging wall of stone, at the center of which, on the ground, was a small altar. "Homage to Jizo Bosatsu," I whispered when I saw it.

Sitting on the stones, I let the place fill me. Anguish. Crying. Pain. Whispers of peace, of encouragement, eyes of gentle love. Anger. Fear. A whirlwind of emotions. A rainbow of hope, a shadows of despair. I prayed for the babies and children whose souls I felt, and for their parents. I prayed that their suffering would be relieved, and that they would find peace.


Still lost
a baby crawls on and on
through the mists
his mother calls after it,
then the darkness covers all.


At that time, I was not really very familiar with Jizo Bosatsu. Oh, I knew he was one of the most popular figures in Buddhism, along with Kannon Bosatsu, and that he was the protector of children, pilgrims, and travellers, but I had not sat down with the sutras on Jizo, or read at any length about him. I knew that Sai no Kawara was a place by the river between the worlds of life and death, where babies and young children go after they die. A kind of purgatory, in that they are sent there as punishment for some "sin" they have committed. I realized it was time to learn.



Far down the valley
a bird begins to sing again.
Looking up
I see that the rain has stopped,
sunlight filters through the trees.


As I walked back down the Sai no Kawara part of the little valley, I prayed again and again for the suffering of small children, and of their parents and loved ones. The suffering of children is especially sad and painful, because they are so blameless, so pure, so loving.

When I came to the Benzaiten, I bowed and prayed that the pure waters would continue to flow here, and that I might receive the words to continue to tell the story of the Saikoku Pilgrimage. Then I head towards the temple beside Ichijo-ji which is devoted to the worship of Jizo Bosatsu. On the way I discovered a Kumano shrine, beside which is a space for performing the esoteric rituals associated with that tradition. Then I reached the temple and prayed to Jizo Bosatsu. I learned that the mantra for him is "On kakaka bisanmaei sowaka," and repeated it along with the other mantras which I say regularly.


"Suffer the children
to come unto me," He said
so long ago;
within the smile of Jizo
the eyes of the Holy Shepard.



A dragonfly
waits on the pink daisy
observing me
as I walk slowly by,
then lands briefly on my shoulder.


After getting lunch at the little restaurant across the road from the temples, I set out for Enkyo-ji, Shoshazan, the next of the temples of the Saikoku Pilgrimage, with my new companion. I have a feeling that I will come to love Jizo as much as Kannon; they are, after all, both manifestations of the teaching of Buddhism. As you will see from the long note below, what I learned was that Jizo Bosatsu came to me there, slipped up beside me, right through the defenses I had built to keep out Kannon because of my guilt. Came right up to me, gave me safe haven, and nudged me back towards the right direction. Amazing.


Your voice
in the wind through the leaves
in the rain
your smile in the mists,
as I walk along the road.



Note:
Later I discovered that there is a hymn which describes the Sai no Kawara and what takes place there, called the Sai no Kawara Jizo Wasan. There are several different versions of the hymn, one, which was translated by Lafcadio Hearn in Glimpses of an Unfamiliar Japan, is available on the internet [ http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/sai-no-kawara.html "Jizo, Sai no Kawara & Judges of Hell (Underworld). Japanese Buddhism A-to-Z Photo Dictionary Project" ] There page is a branch of the main entry on Jizo Bosatsu, http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/jizo1.shtml "Jizo Bodhisattva (Bosatsu) Savior from Torments of Hell, Patron of Expectant Mothers, Protector of Children & Aborted Souls, Others," last updated August 2006.] An English translation of one of the sutras pertaining to Jizo Bosatsu, the "Sutra of the Past Vows of Earth Store Bodhisattva," is available at http://www.drba.org/dharma/earthstore.pdf ]

The half dozen or so versions of the hymn which I have read all describe basically the same situation. Children of three or four, under ten or eleven, have died are in a kind of purgatory (some say "limbo"). They miss their parents, and their families greatly, and pile up stones one on top of another, making little towers by which to build up merit which they want to transfer to their loved ones in the world of the living, to ease their suffering there. They work very hard at this, cutting their hands and feet in the process. Devils (in some cases an old hag) come and deride them, saying that the towers are too poorly built to deserve any merit, and proceed to knock them down. The children cry out and fall down with grief. Jizo Bosatsu appears and gives the children protection and comfort, and the devils flee.

The Sutra of the Past Vows of Earth Store Boddhisattva explains that in an earlier incarnation, Jizo was a young woman who was a devout Buddhist. She grieved for her mother, who was not and who, in addition, committed various sins. As a result of this, when her mother died she was sent to hell. The woman goes searching for her mother, to try to save her from the terrible suffering she is experiencing. Eventually she reaches the place where he mother is supposed to be, only to learn that the woman's virtue and faith have caused a change in her mother, who has repented, and as a result has been admitted to one of the many Buddhist heavens. (Jizo Bodhisattva seems to be primarily a woman in the Sanskrit and Chinese traditions, but in Japan is usually (but not always) a man.) Jizo (literally earth storehouse, from the Sanskrit for earth womb) thus also has a deep concern with those who are suffering for sins that they have committed, exhausting all resources possible to help them find the path from their suffering to peace.