Bring a still, calm voice, to the Garden . . .

“And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake;

12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.

13 So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 1 Kings 19:11-18 (New King James Version)

Last year we visited Venice. It is a deeply spiritual place – not just because of the intensely atmospheric architecture and juxtaposition of buildings and sky with the lapping waters of the canals and sea, but also the sheer scale and number of churches. In one such church I was deeply moved by the singing of a catholic priest as he started an afternoon service for visitors with a rendition of “All people that on earth do dwell” (the Old One Hundredth in Anglican parlance).

A few weeks ago we had the privilege of observing Buddhist monks leading congregations in prayer in Kyoto, and again, it was the singing from the front – the person leading the service – that captured my spirit and sent me soaring on a spiritual high!

Since then I have been exploring the internet for more evidence of what Thomas Moore has described as “Zen Catholicism” (see Writing in the Sand). There is plenty, and all of a sudden my fascination with the symbolism and purpose of the Zen Gardens of Kyoto, the role that they play and why they are suddenly so attractive to an enquiring western mind such as my own, has come crashing together in a noisy cacophony of thoughts and ideas much as poor old Elijah must have had to deal with in his mountain side cave. (Did Elijah exist? I don’t care – if he did, that’s great; if not, his story is suitably apocryphal to explain to what I am currently experiencing: oh for a still, quiet voice, and calm!)

In my recent, limited, readings on Zen and Christianity, I am starting to recognise a universality in their paths, their messages of love and peace, their explanations on where to find the Kingdom of God and so on. It does not matter one iota whether we are brought up as Buddhists, or Christians, or Muslims or Shintoists! All seek the same relationship with God, all seek to better Mankind and, if Zen is about thinking deeply about religion and the nature of all things (quite apart from just Man), then we can all can learn from it!

In the bustle of everyday life we never seem to find the time, or the place, to sit and be quiet, to listen to the still calm voice from within: and if we do, the noise from our own minds comes crashing in with everyday concerns and worries. Zen Buddhists use devices such as “koans” (answerless questions – “mu” - and intensely deep ideas to ponder) and gardens on which to focus their minds as they practice the emptying of trite and everyday concerns from their minds as they perform “zazen”.

Jesus said, "If your leaders say to you, 'Look, the (Father's) kingdom is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the (Father's) kingdom is within you and it is outside you. When you know yourselves, then you will be known, and you will understand that you are children of the living Father. But if you do not know yourselves, then you live in poverty, and you are the poverty." The Gospel of Thomas.

What am I doing here?

How poor, am I!

Kyoto

My first visit to Japan has proven to be an absolute triumph. Not only do I have a massively higher estimation of the Japanese people - all of whom I found extremely polite, helpful, courteous, but also of their culture and outlook on life. It would be impossible to gain anything but a minuscule of knowledge in the week or so that we spent in Japan ... but wow! what people, what a place, what a culture!

The greatest highpoint for a gardener was obviously the temples and gardens of Kyoto.

I found myself every day trying desperately not to say: things have better as the trip unfolded. With the benefit of several hundred photographs (500+) and distance, I can confidently point out "equal bests" from every day, and that has been gratifying. Jeff and I saw so much and yet there remains so much to see. At the end of this blog is a list of the sites dipped into - and I mean dipped as we wanted to see as much as we could in preparation for, yes, a return visit soon.

Whenever I visit a new gallery or museum, I try to glance into every room in order to get the flavour of the place. I then reflect and return to maybe three or four rooms or galleries for a more studious visit. And so it was and will be with Kyoto. So what impressed me:

The cleanliness - My God how clean is the whole of Japan? It's amazing.

The spirituality of the people - particularly in Kyoto. In one of our guide books it made light of the reverence of the Japanese for their Shinto and Buddhist roots and said that these were no longer of importance. Where-ever we went there was clearly a very strong observance of religious ritual and while I accept that these two traditions are inter-observed by most or many Japanese, I can see no wrong in that: they are clearly acknowledging what I believe is a universal fundamental to all religions. Somewhere in the root of all the world's faiths can be found the truth! The smell of incense, the rich tones of the Buddhist monks leading people in prayer through the day; the shrines along the paths and roads or in gardens; the dressed statues of Buddha; the Zen gardens and their abstract spirituality encouraging a moment if not life of contemplation - all these are the heady essence of a living faith.

The gorgeousness of the colour in the autumn sunlight - even the few cherry trees still in leaf brought something to the mix of Acers and Ginkgos, the reds, golds and pale yellow tree leaves against which the moving palate of green mosses and grasses contrasted in sumptuous compliment with each other. To that could be added the blue sky, the unseasonal warmth of the sunlight and the bird song in some of the temple gardens. Magic.

The artifice and art of both the gardens and beautiful Ikebana flower arrangements. The amazing topiary and shrub pruning. The symbolism of every element used in the design - the significance or meaning of of which I could only hazard a guess.

The War Memorials - not just to the Japanese dead and missing from the Burma Campaign in which my father fought but all so to the Unknown Soldier of the World in Worlds War II. We were there when the Allies remember their dead - 11th November - how poignant to reflect upon the sacrifices and bravery of the enemy of my parents' generation. What an opportunity for personally re-appraising the futility and ghastliness of warfare - man upon man.

The amazing food - we didn't see sushi once - but we had some amazing tempura, sashimi, tepenyaki, kaeseki ...

The Bullet Train ride between Tokyo and Kyoto. Looking out of the train window at Mt. Fuji with its snow-dressed cap.

Oh, and did I mention the Americans? When we returned to the Okura Hotel in Tokyo at the weekend, the Obama delegation had taken over a wing of the hotel (the Embassy is located right next door). A little over the top on the number of policemen , secret service agents from both countries and airport style security screening ...

So where did we go?

Nijo Castle and grounds.

Arashiyama: Togetsu-kyo bridge; Tenryu-ji; Bamboo forests; Kameyama Koen; Okochi Sanso Villa (a private garden); Jokakuko-ji; Gio-ji (fantastic moss garden); Adashino-nembutsu-ji; Atago torii (lovely old thatched roofs).

Northern Higashiyama: Tenju-an (Zen garden); Konchi-in (Zen garden); Nanzen-ji; Kotoqu-an; Eian-do; along the philosopher's walk to Honen-in and Ginkaku-ji (Zen garden with the Mt. Fuji structure).

North west Kyoto: Kinkaku-ji (the Golden Temple; Ryoan-ji (possibly the most famous Zen garden, war memorial to Burmese campaign).

Southern Higashiyama: Taini Neguri (where we entered the absolute darkness of the womb of the Bodhisattva); Kiyomiza-dera; Ishibei Koji (spectacular side street); Ryozen Kannon (war memorial to all unknown soldiers killed in WWII); Chion-in (the Vatican of Buddhist complexes in Kyoto); Shoren-in (spectacularly decorated rooms over-looking a lovely garden.

Daitoku-ji: A huge complex of working temples into which we went: Daisen-in (Zen Garden); Ryongen in (a 400 year old Camellia - the oldest in Japan?); and finally Koto-in (a sublime Zen garden amongst others and impressive Ikebana display).

SUMMER, SAISHO-IN

The evening bell, solemn and bronze

in the grandfather temple down the hill,

sounds dimly here.

Slow beat of the mountain's heart, perhaps,

or determined pulse of pine tree (gift of the birds)

growing out of the crotch of the slippery mountain tree.

All one, perhaps - -

bell, mountain, tree . . .

and steady cicada vibratto

and little white dog

and quiet artist-priest, carver of the Noh masks,

fashioning a bamboo crutch, symbol of strength, symbol of concern.

All cool under nodding crowns of the vertical forest,

all seeking this place,

all finding in this place - -

hidden yet open to all - -

the spirit in the cedar's heart.

(Anon)

___ ___ ___

Verse seen at the entrance to Saisho-in: a small, Eighth Century Buddhist temple in a mountain gorge near Kyoto.