It was the fall of 1987, October to be exact, when Sherry and I first guided a group to Japan—Land of the Dawn (Rising Sun). On the contrary though, this beautiful volcanic island of sake and spirit was no stranger to me but an old friend, one that I had visited many times in the past, including other lifetimes. To attempt to understand Japan, one must first experience its sacred earth, a land that is permeated throughout with an enigmatic fragrance of tranquility and peace that on the surface belies its underlying martial past. It is on this island that the spirit of heart, commitment and honor runs deep within the people and the land.

Two months before we journeyed to Japan, Sherry and I had been to the land of the “feathered serpent,” Kukulcan—the Maya name for Quetzalcoatl, exploring pyramids long abandoned by humans, but home now to the green coverlet of the Yucatan jungles. It was also here that we experienced the magic and the myth of the Maya as well as the Shamanic medicine of the Jaguar. And again, this emerald splashed land was an old friend of mine, a spirit of place that echoed deep within my soul’s lineage. Mexico and Japan, seemly different but then…

Mexico like Japan is rooted in a spiritual past as well as a martial one. To both cultures, whether we are discussing the spirit of the Jaguar Knight or the soul of the Samurai, the martial and the spiritual were at one time one together, never to be separated. But as it so often happens, the ring of power holds sway over the flower of heart, teachings are forgotten and peace is abandoned for war and destruction, as it did for both of these cultures.

Mexico to an extent has also lost it’s original spiritual roots, the religion of peace and harmony that was brought to the people and to the land by the white prophet, Quetzalcoatl, so many Millennia ago. Over the past centuries, Quetzalcoatl’s religion of love was usurped by organized religion. Contrary to the loving teachings of Quetzalcoatl, institutionalized religion took hold of the peoples minds and hearts by poisoning them with fear, instead of opening the hearts and minds with love. And all though the centuries, around the world, this institution of Christianity caused others, as well, pain and suffering. Even though it sprouted words of peace, it stayed silent to various in-justices and wars, knowing that by speaking out, its power base and it’s bottomless coffers of earthly gold and silver would be diminished.

Japan, on the other hand, is one of the few remaining spiritual cultures, alive and well today, that is not grounded in religious dogma or doctrine, but in the belief of the divine—the divinity of the land and the spirit of the people. Their religion of spirituality is today called Shinto (from the Chinese shen meaning divinity and tao meaning way or path). However, the earliest form of this natural or pure religion, it’s roots deeply embedded within the mists of pre-historical Japan, was the way of the Kami (spirit, divine being, god/goddess), referred to by the Japanese word Kannagara. Kami, to the early Japanese, referred to the divinity within all things:

“Kami first of all refers to the gods of heaven, earth, and the underworld, of whom the most important are creator gods—all Shinto cults, even the earliest, seem to have had an extremely developed creation mythology. But kami also are all those things that have divinity in them to some degree: the ghosts of ancestors, living human beings, particular regions or villages, animals, plants, landscape—in fact, most of creation, anything that might be considered wondrous, magnificent, or affecting human life. This meant that the early Japanese felt themselves to be under the control not only of the clan's principal kami, but by an innumerable crowd of ancestors, spiritual beings, and divine natural forces. As an example of the potential for divinity: there is a story of an emperor who, while traveling in a rainstorm encountered a cat on a porch that waved a greeting to him. Intrigued by this extraordinary phenomenon, the emperor dismounted and approached the porch. As soon as he reached the porch, a bolt of lightning crashed down on the spot his horse was standing and killed it instantly. From that point on, cats were, in Shinto, worshipped as beneficent and protective kami…

The kami are more than just a plurality of gods or forces; since the world is a creation of Amaterasu, you might say that the whole world partakes of divinity. That is, although we translate kami as "gods," it may be more accurate to think of the word as meaning something like "kami-nature," or "the sacred in things." The life force in humans are kami, as are the spirits of ancestors, the organization of social groups, the forces that bring health, disease, longevity, and death, the gods themselves, geographical places, and the stars and planets. The whole of the universe for the early Japanese was suffused with the sacred, from one end to the other partook of kami nature. (1)

But there is also another form of religion in Japan that is extremely close to my heart and mind: Shingon (True Word) Esoteric Buddhism. The founder, Kûkai (774-835) and his mountain, Koyasan, drew me from the very beginning of my quests to Japan. And thus it was partly my desire to have others experience the magic of Koyasan that drove me to bring a group of pilgrims to this land. Esoteric Buddhism is based on the belief that Buddhahood or one’s divinity may be attained in this body, this life and this world. Kûkai believed in the divine human or Buddha human, and even though I had not yet awakened to my message of divine humanity, there was still a pull, an urge to study and to understand this messenger of True Word Buddhism and to explore and feel his mountain world of Koyasan.

The focus of the journey was not only spiritual but also martial in content. In fact, for the majority of participants, the primary motivation in coming to Japan was for the martial training. Even though I had been a martial artist since 1964, I was not the primary martial teacher on this journey. Sherry and I were here first and foremost for the spiritual, not the martial. And thus it was such that the Japanese guide that was assigned to our group was steeped, not in the martial, but in the spiritual and esoteric lore of Japan and India. 

Our guide, Keiko-san, was simply amazed at the design of our journey. We were going to places seldom ventured to by non-Japanese. And on top of this, we were also interested in various esoteric martial and spiritual traditions that many of the Japanese themselves would never consider studying.

I had planned this journey to be a true pilgrimage of heart. One of Kûkai’s beliefs was that “awakened,” one would see the world in entirely different terms, a transformational process from the profane to the sacred. And from this inner awakening of heart, one’s world would then become as a lotus blossom. Like Shinto, where divinities are invoked and visualized, Kûkai believed, in addition, that you could identify with these divine intrinsic vibrations, and that these Buddha’s could best be visualized, and identified with, only after one made various pilgrimages to the tops of mountains. As Kûkai said: “The Body of the Buddha is the body of all living beings, which in turn is that of the Buddha. Different, yet not different. Not different, yet different.” (2)

Humans are basically “wayfarers” or wanderers ever seeking, consciously or unconsciously, home, a return to paradise where our fathers and mothers came from—our ancestors, and the mountain where the ancient ones communed directly with heaven. Thus the first part of our pilgrimage was to the “hidden door” mountain—Togakushi and it’s three Shinto Shrines: the lower shrine Hokoji (Treasure of Light), the second Chusha (Middle Shrine) and the third Okusha (Deep Sanctuary).

Path to Okusha. Photo by Jim

“Hidden door” is an reference to one of the primary myths of Japan and of the sun goddess—Amaterasu-O-Mi-Kami or “August Person who Makes the Heavens Shine.” The myth basically involves Amaterasu—the sun goddess, her brother Susa-no-o—the storm god and Ame-no-uzume, the beautiful goddess of the dawn (Venus). As the legend is told, Susa-no-o, seemly always a troublemaker, was jealous of his sister’s status as ruler of the High Plains of Heaven, a position given to her by their father—Izanagi (the male half of the first couple). Amaterasu, concerned that her brother was plotting to overthrow her, confronted Susa-no-o. A contest ensued to prove who was the mightiest. And even though Amaterasu won, Susa-no-o, being who he was, felt that he had won and celebrated his victory by wrecking havoc on the earth. Not only did he destroy the rice fields but he also proceeded to harass his sister and her attendants in a most foul way. In terror, Amaterasu fled and hid in a cave. And thus the light was taken from the earth.

The evil deities were happy and rejoiced in the darkness, now able to do their wicked deeds without being detected. But the good gods and goddesses beseeched Amaterasu to return to the earth: “The goddess refused, and so the deities hatched a plot. They found the cock whose crow precedes the dawn and made a mirror strung with jewels. Then after setting the cock and the mirror outside Amaterasu’s hiding place, they asked the goddess Ame-no-uzume to dance on an upturned tub. The cock began to crow and the goddess began to dance…” (3)

Ame-no-uzume's dance, ecstatic and indecent as it was, caused the gods and goddesses to laugh. Inquisitive as she was, Amaterasu emerged from hiding in her cave, and transfixed by her beautiful reflection in the mirror, stayed outside of the cave restoring, once again, light to the earth. Ame-no-uzume, known as the fearless one, is the dawn goddess, the goddess of laughter and the guardian kami of marriage and entertainment.

Interestingly enough, these mountains, born of ecstasy and laughter, helped me give an important teaching to one of the participants the following year when I brought another group to these magical lands. This was not an oral or written teaching, but just the mundane act of running. As is commonly said: “Actions speak louder than words.” But often times, teachings, such as this, go over the head of the person or simply, they don’t get it! A good teacher is only a guide and a wayshower opening the door for others to step through. And it was such with this teaching.

One of the participants on this journey lived much of her life in fear. It had snowed the night before, unusual to say the least in October, and to most on the journey a novelty, but I knew that it was a spiritual sign. Two years later I discovered the significance of this snow: a Japanese Grandmaster of many old warrior and spiritual arts renamed my dojo—Hakusan, Sacred White Mountain. And three years after the naming, approximately the same date in October, I had my vision on the Big Island in Hawaii.

On the day of the snow, October 14 1988, the group walked up the steep, and now snow-covered, mountain path to the upper shrine. On the way back down, I had the opportunity to do the teaching on fear, ecstasy and laughter. This is the teaching as described in her own words:

"The hike back down was an exercise in balance as the packed-down snow had turned to ice. My smooth-soled shoes were particularly bad, and I remember that as I was clinging to something trying not to fall, the Mad Peruvian Shaman took my sleeve and said he'd help me. He then began to run. Well, I ran, too, scared out of my wits right up until I started having fun. I ran all the way back down."

And I still wonder if she got it.

On leaving picturesque Togakushi, we proceeded to our next mountain retreat—Yoshino in the north of the Kii peninsula. One of the goals of a true pilgrimage is to merge the sacred space with the pilgrim, where hopefully one becomes an immortal human being dwelling in the divine, as well as the realization that the divine also resides within the human being. Kûkai felt that the abode of the Buddha was within the heart-mind of each and every person. But the illusion of ego keeps one from this realization.

However, there is always a way. And the way may take the form of a mountain pilgrimage, which may help loosen the grip of this illusion. Sadly though, if a pilgrims heart is closed, due to greed and materialism, the illusion may only tighten producing an inflation of “see who I am, where I have been, and who I know.” Kûkai wrote, “Who is within illusion resides in a polluted space; he  (she) who awakens resides in a pure space, which is also called Pure Land.” (4)

The Yoshino area, noted for its spring cherry blossoms, is also well known as being the home of the mountain ascetics—the yamabushi. However, few realize that the area is, in addition, the physical manifestation of the Diamond mandala (Kongôkai) and the Womb mandala (Taizōkai) the two main mandalas, or roadmaps to the divine Oneness, of Kûkai’s Shingon Buddhism. From the Buchû shokanjô keihaku:

“This peak is the pure temple of the two realms: it is the original, noncreated mandala; the summits covered with trees are the perfect altars of the nine parts of the Diamond mandala, and the caverns filled with fragrant herbs are the eight petals of the lotus in the Womb mandala. Mountain and rivers, trees and plants are the true body of the Buddha Mahâvairocana; the wind over the crests, the peals of thunder ascending from the depths of the valleys all proclaim the Law of the Body of Essence…The natural mandala is made up of the many mountains where one practices the Three Mysteries.” (5)

It was here on Yoshino that our group experienced a goma fire ceremony at the Shinto shrine, Nôten Ôkami. As with all mandalas, as well as all other religious/spiritual space, one must first enter through a “gate” that separates the profane from the sacred, or from the lesser to the greater sacred. To reach Nôten Ôkami, we thus entered through a gate that descended down many steps, a steep journey of spirit. And for some, setting the stage for a possible re-birth of self, while for others it could have posed as an inconvenience. With the proper frame of mind, however, the journey down the steep steps could have been viewed as a mythological descent into the underworld, where once reached, the flames of the goma could possibly purify one’s heart and lead to a re-birth of spirit and purpose. But this would only be possible for the one’s open, aware, awake and in the moment.

Photo by Jim

Legend and myth have it that this sacred area was founded on the spirit of a serpent that was accidentally killed by a yamabushi. The serpent came to the yamabushi in a dream and commanded him to establish a shrine that would honor the serpent's guardian spirit. To honor the serpent is to honor re-birth. In a pre-ceremonial rite of engaku yuki, you may purchase, for a small fee, a cedar prayer (gomagi) stick, and as the name implies, write a wish or a prayer upon it. These are then presented to the priest, conducting the ceremony. And in return you are given a hard boiled egg to eat, symbolizing re-birth and new life. The prayer sticks are then fed to the fire in the belief that the smoke will carry the written intentions and prayers to the heavens, the Bosatsus and Myō-ōs, and the various guardians such as the Serpent Lord of this Shrine. The use of smoke to carry prayers to the Otherworld is a prevalent cross-cultural motif ranging from the esoteric Buddhists to America’s First People and their sacred pipe.

Continued in Part 2.

(1) www.wsu.edu by Richard Hooker. (2) Kûkui, “Sokushin jôbutsû-gi,” Zenshu, 1:56. (3) Eastern Mythology, Strom, pg. 179. (4) Kûkui, “Issaikyô kaidai,” Zenshu, 2-446. (5) Cited by Gaston Renondeau, Le Shugendo: Histoire, doctrine et rites des Yamabushi (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1965), pg. 110-111.