Cherry blossom in Kyoto

Cherry blossom has arrived in Kyoto!  The trees along the Kamogawa are out in glorious bloom, and people are flocking to the petals in Hirano Jinja, Kyoto’s special shrine for cherry blossom.  Today was a fine day for the emerging blossom, and the crowds were out in force.  Next weekend is sure to see a peak.

Hirano Jinja is one of thirteen Kyoto shrines in Cali and Dougill’s Shinto Shrines: A Guide to the Sacred Sites of Japan’s Ancient Religion (Univ of Hawaii, 2013).  From that we learn the shrine was founded in 782 in Nara, before being relocated to the new capital of Heiankyo (Kyoto) in 794.  The present buildings date from 1625, and with their unpainted wood and cypress-bark tiles they present an evocative rustic appearance.

The shrine has long been considered prestigious.  It may have been intended by Emperor Kanmu to guard the north-west of his new capital, and the Engishiki (967) mentions it as guardian of the imperial kitchen.  It was one of only 16 shrines to receive regular offerings from the emperor, and the hereditary priests were drawn from the powerful Urabe clan who specialised in tortoise-shell divination.  (The Urabe were one of the three ‘houses of Shinto’, who later divided to form the influential Yoshida lineage.)

The four Hirano kami are unusual.  According to the shrine, Imaki okami is a god of revitalisation; Kudo okami is a deity of the cooking pot; Furuaki okami is a deity of new beginnings; Hime no okami is a deity of fertility and discovery.  There are suggestions of links with Paekche (in ancient Korea) and that the last kami is in fact the ancestral spirit of Emperor Kanmu’s mother, who was descended from a king of Paekche.

The people who throng the shrine these days are little concerned with history, however.  Their concerns are with saké, picnic, conviviality and the brief glimpses of the moon appearing through clouds of pink blossom.  Within the compound are some 500 cherry trees, and the shrine was noted even in Heian times as a place to go for blossom viewing.  Now with lanterns dotting the grounds and a classical guitar strumming ‘Sakura’ in the Haiden, the shrine is a celebration of spring renewal and the touching brevity of life in this world.

Cherry blossom selfies are always popular

Even without cherry blossom the Honden (Sanctuary) has an attractive air with its gabled cypressbark roof, slender chigi crossbeams and goldplated details such as the imperial chrysanthemum

As evening falls, the stalls begin to do good business with people arriving after work for ‘hanami’ (blossom viewing parties)

For some, partying takes precedence over cherry blossom

For others the combination of moon and cherry blossom is enrapturing..

Paper lanterns painted by primary schoolchildren adorn the grounds

Hearn and cherry blossom

Yes, it’s that time of year again. Cherry blossom heaven has broken out in Kyoto. Over a hundred years earlier Lafcadio Hearn was one of the first foreigners to remark on the beauty of the occasion.

Hearn’s first shrine visit came in cherry blossom time in Yokohama, fresh after his arrival there by ship from Vancouver. It was in Hearn’s honeymoon period, when he was elated with being ‘in fairyland’ where everything was enchanting, elfish and curious. His writing conveys all the thrill of the new and exotic, when travellers ride a high of constant discovery.

In a way Hearn had been prepared for Shinto by his attachment to the pagan polytheism of ancient Greece. While still a schoolboy he had turned away from what he saw as the oppressive monotheism of Christianity, and influenced no doubt by the Greek heritage of his idolised mother he had been enraptured by picture books of Greek myth. While in Japan, Hearn opposed Christian missionaries as advocates for an unattractive Western modernism.  Whereas they ridiculed the worship of trees and snakes and rocks, Hearn had an instinctive understanding of how humans are an integral part of the environment around them.

At the time Hearn was writing there was no clear distinction as yet between (Buddhist) temple and (Shinto) shrine. The terms were often used interchangeably.  In the passage below Hearn had asked to visit another ‘temple’, but gets taken instead by his rickshaw man nicknamed Cha to a shrine.

There is a lofty flight of steps here also, and before them a structure which I know is both a gate and a symbol, imposing, yet in no manner resembling the great Buddhist gateway seen before.  Astonishingly simple all the lines of it are: it has no carving, no coloring, no lettering upon it; yet it has a weird solemnity, an enigmatic beauty. It is a torii.

Miya,’ observes Cha. Not a tera this time, but a shrine of the gods of the more ancient faith of the land, – a miya.

I am standing before a Shinto symbol. I see for the first time, out of a picture at least, a torii. How describe a torii to those who have never seen one looked at one even in a photograph or engraving? Two lofty columns, like gate pillars, supporting horizontally two cross-beams, the lower and the lighter beam having its ends fitted into the columns a little below their summits; the uppermost and larger beam supported upon the tops of the columns, and projecting well beyond them to right and left. That is a torii: the construction varying little in design, whether made of stone, wood or metal. But this description can give no correct idea of the appearance of a torii, of its majestic aspect, or its mystical suggestiveness as a gateway. The first time you see a noble one, you will imagine, perhaps, that you see the colossal model of some beautiful Chinese letter towering against the sky; for all the lines of the thing have the grace of an animated ideograph, – have the bold angles and curves of characters made with four sweeps of a master-brush.

Passing the torii I ascend a flight of perhaps one hundred stone steps, and find at their summit a second torii, from whose lower cross-beam hangs festooned the mystic shimenawa. It is in this case a hempen rope of perhaps two inches in diameter through its greater length, but tapering off at either end like a snake. Sometimes the shimenawa is made of bronze, when the torii itself is of bronze; but according to tradition it should be made of straw, and most commonly is. For it represents the straw rope which the deity Funo-tama-no-mikoto stretched behind the Sun goddess, Heavenly-handstrength-god, had pulled her out, as is told in that ancient myth of Shinto which Professor Chamberlain has translated. And the shimenawa, in its commoner and simpler form, has pendent tufts of straw along its entire length, at regular intervals, because originally made, tradition declares, of grass pulled up by the roots which protruded from the twist of it.

Advancing beyond this torii, I find myself in a sort of park or pleasure-ground on the summit of the hill. There is a small temple on the right; it is all closed up; and I have read so much about the disappointing vacuity of Shinto temples that I do not regret the absence of its guardian. And I see before me what is infinitely more interesting – a grove of cherry trees covered with something unutterably beautiful, – a dazzling mist of snowy blossoms clinging like cloud-fleece about every branch and twig; and the ground beneath them, and the path before me, is white with the soft, thick, odorous snow of fallen petals.

Beyond this loveliness are flower-pots surrounding tiny shrines; and marvelous grotto-work, full of monsters, – dragons and mythologic beings chiseled in the rock; and miniature landscape work with tiny groves of dwarf trees and liliputian lakes, and microscopic brooks and bridges and cascades. Here, also, are swings for children. And here are belvederes perched on the verge of the hill, wherefrom the whole fair city, and the whole smooth bay speckled with fishing-sails no bigger than pin-heads, and far faint high promontories reaching into the sea, are all visible in one delicious view, – blue-penciled in a beauty of ghostly haze indescribable.

Hirano Shrine in Kyoto is noted in particular for its cherry blossom celebrations

Spring and the Life Force

Spring is an exciting time of year. After the winter hibernation, nature reawakens in colourful and often spectacular fashion. Plum and cherry blossom are accompanied by daffodil and crocus. Farmers set about planting again, and Shinto hosts a range of festivals dedicated to fertility and success of the year’s new crops.

Promotion of the life force is a central strand of Shinto, sadly overlooked in books and by modern practitioners. One reason is that the reforms of Meiji times did much to sanitise the religion, stripping it of its earthier and uncontrollable elements in order to enforce conformity. Diversity in local practice was replaced by set rituals and an emperor-centred worldview that still prevails.

Phallus worship at Yaegaki Shrine in Shimane

One of the more obvious examples of the drastic change is the plight of phallic worship. Accounts of the country by Victorian travellers tell of the widespread practice in earlier times, but that many of the phalluses were being removed in the face of Christian criticism that it was primitive and offensive. Japan was intent on joining the Big Powers, not being embarrassed by them.

Yet phallic erection is one of the most vital affirmations of the life force that exists. For those who prefer the old pre-Meiji ways to the new, there are vestiges of the spring time celebration of the ‘life force’ all around Japan. They are manifest in the many shrines that still harbour phallic representations, where they serve not only as stimulants for birth, but as protectors against sexual disease or infertility. They can be seen too in rituals such as 7-5-3, which celebrate the development of children’s growth. They are evident too in cherry blossom parties, where the celebration of nature is enhanced by alcohol and communal feasting.

In contrast to the strict adherence to correctness in shrine rituals, the Dionysian side of Japanese culture is manifest in the many wild and sake-fuelled festivals that still retain a local colour. Nothing could be more different from the carefully stipulated niceties of modern Shinto than the spontaneity and communal high spirits of the Japanese matsuri. Here in these unbuttoned festivals the affirmation of the life force can be seen in its most naked guise – sometimes, as in the Hadaka Matsuri below, quite literally.

Dosojin fertility statues were once common across Japan
Symbolic penetration at a Shinto festival of a rice straw phallus into a female vulva.
Parade of 32 year old childless women at the Hounen Festival near Nagoya

Stone Power

Readers of this blog will know of the fascination Green Shinto has with the sacred rocks of Japan, known as iwakura. No one I have asked, including several Shinto priests, can explain their significance, and books ignore them altogether. Yet they often stand at the heart of a shrine, and in many cases are said to be the very reason for the establishment of the place as sacred. The topic has been addressed in several previous postings, but an article in Sacred Hoop magazine covering the use of sacred stones in shamanism casts them in a new light. For one thing there is the historical background, stretching back to a time before homo sapiens even emerged. For another there is explanation of their origin as a natural ‘god-given’ phenomenon. A third point of interest is the suggestion some stones ‘flash’ to attract attention. I believe this may be tied to the mirror rocks in Japan (kagami iwa), which are often found at sacred sites. A fourth point is the commonality of Native American thinking with Shinto, unsurprising given the former’s supposed origins in East Asia. Finally, the last paragraph may help explain the tradition in Japan of keeping sacred rocks secret or hidden from view. In the past this would have been a powerful element of mystery, and still today the tradition is maintained in such shrines as the ancient Omiwa Jinja in Nara Prefecture, claimed by some as the oldest shrine in Japan.

Mt Miwa casts a protective eye over the settlement below it. The mountain is a ‘goshintai’ (sacred body) for Omiwa Jinja and worshipped directly. The sacred rocks on it are not to be touched or photographed.

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Extracted from ‘Stone Power’ by Nicholas Breeze Wood Sacred Hoop no. 123, 2024

The oldest example of a stone which had caught someone’s eye is the Makapansgat pebble, a naturally formed stone which resembles a
face, or a skull, around 8cm high, discovered in a cave in the Makapan
Valley, in South Africa. It was found in remains of human habitation which has been dated to around three million years ago.

The stone shows no evidence of having been worked, no tool marks, and is therefore a naturally formed pebble which someone found and prized. Naturally formed stones are the origin of the famous Zuni stone fetishes, from the Southwest of the USA, which are carved to resemble animals, the original one
however were ‘nature carved’ and highly prized as sacred stones.

Inland Sea natural rock said to represent the hawk sent by Amaterasu to help guide Jimmu in his voyage of conquest for the Yamato

Such stones – and also naturally shaped bits of wood or roots – have long been prized as sacred objects, within which a spirit resides, or which a spirit has touched in some way. They are natural treasured gifts from our Grandmother the earth. Of course, stones don’t have to be of a special or unusual shape, they can come in special circumstances which make them special.

In Native American traditions, the Lakota call such special stone woti, they are ‘rock friends’ powerful rock spirits who protect a person. They come in unusual
ways, often brightly flashing light at a person to draw their eye so the stone is found. Carried in small bags or suspended on cord, they are worn close to the body, specially in times of danger, and many Native American warriors – both historically and in modern times, will carry such a rock.

The Crow Nation, who lived close to the Lakota on the Great Plains, often made elaborate ‘nests’ for their medicine stones, which they wore on cords around
their necks. These nests were generally beaded and hung with larger glass trade beads, which provided additional decoration.

Stones can be used as a temporary home for a soul part during soul-retrievals; the shamanic practitioner carries the stone in some way while they are on their shamanic journey, and the spirit of the stone will then accompany them on their journey and be with them in the ‘dark world’ – the ‘spirit world’ – when they find the lost soul part of the client. Then, the soul part is ‘popped’ into the stone, and the journeyer returns to the ‘light world’ – the every day – and gives the stone to the client, who keeps it close to themselves while the soul part fully returns and is integrated. The client should really keep the stone close, perhaps putting it into a small cloth or leather bag which they wear around their neck.

In many traditional healing rituals the client avoids touching – or sometimes even seeing – the released energy container, so as to avoid taking back the heaviness again.

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For more on rocks, see here or click the button under Categories in the right-hand column.

Pair of iwakura at Achi Jinja in Kurashiki, Okayama Prefecture

Japanese animism

Interesting article in the Japan News by a former Japanese diplomat, Kagefumi Ueno. It begins by noting the recent upturn in the number of pet funerals, and widens out to conclude with observations about modernity and tradition in the Japanese mindset.

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Nature-centric rock worship (photos by John Dougill)

Kagefumi Ueno writes: “Even in historically non-Christian Asian countries such as China and Korea, I understand that they seldom offer funeral services for pets, possibly for cultural reasons. In part they tend to notionally distinguish people from animals, which could be described as anthropocentric. In contrast, the Japanese, who are generally much less anthropocentric or more nature-centric, draw such distinctions less sharply.

Indeed, it is not only pets whose souls the Japanese revere. They revere or soothe the souls of many categories of dead animals — ranging from animals sacrificed for medical testing to fish or shrimps or whales that are caught and eaten, to police dogs and so forth.

They do this through religious ceremonies called kuyo — also held for deceased human beings — that are by and large officiated by Shinto or Buddhist clergy. They pay tribute to the animals’ sacrifice. Even today kuyo ceremonies for animals take place almost everywhere in Japan. For example, if you visit the Tsukiji Namiyoke Jinja shrine in Tokyo, you can see stone monuments for the fish, clams, eggs and even kombu seaweed that were once sold at the nearby Tsukiji Market.

Nor is the inclusion of kombu so unusual. The Japanese hold kuyo ceremonies even for inanimate objects — used utensils such as needles and kitchen knives, used medical syringes, used pens and brushes, used factory machinery and so forth — in order to thank these objects for the services they offered for a long time, just before they are disposed of. It is to soothe their spirits or souls.

While I was serving as the Japanese ambassador to Guatemala over 20 years ago, a Guatemalan government minister who was of Mayan origin told me that indigenous Mayan people similarly practice religious ceremonies to thank machinery for its hard work just before it is scrapped. Like them, the Japanese sometimes regard even lifeless things as people by sensing their souls. Moreover, they also sense divinity even in the lowliest insects or smallest plants. Many scholars call this mind-set animistic, pantheistic or polytheistic.

Below the surface of the popularity of pet funerals, one may perceive a very animistic or pantheistic ethos or sentiment at the basic stratum of Japanese culture. It is a trait the Japanese may share with Mayans or some of the indigenous peoples of North America.

This animism or pantheism has significant visible, tangible aspects as well as non-visible, abstract aspects.

Sacred waterfall at Nachi, in Wakayama Prefecture

First, at a visible, tangible level, the Japanese as nature worshippers adore mountains, springs, lakes, waterfalls, rocks, majestic trees, the observable planets, and so forth, much like the Mayans, Pre-Christian Celts or Australian Indigenous people. These things are deemed to be divine or sacred. That’s why many Shinto shrines are in the vicinity of those sacred things to facilitate the worship of their divinity.

Against this backdrop, many classic works of Japanese literature — notably the Manyoshu , a compilation of classic waka poems of the eighth century, and haiku by 17th-century poet Matsuo Basho — are not seldom manifestations of such animistic or pantheistic sentiment.

Second, at a more abstract or spiritual level, the Japanese tend to identify themselves with Mother Nature or the Universe and have a sense of unity with Nature or a sense of belonging to it. They believe that they can reach the ultimate spiritual stage only when or after they become absorbed by or melted into Nature by discarding their self or ego. A Mayan or a pre-Christian Celt might share a similar cosmovision.

It should now be clear that at the basis of today’s Japanese civilization lie two distinctive elements, namely the animistic ethos on one hand and modernism and rational thinking on the other. Hence, contemporary Japanese civilization could be interpreted as a hybrid of two very distinctive and sometimes contradictory things, namely, pre-modernity and modernity. Whereas their pre-modern half urges people to revere souls of waterfalls, trees or mountains in an animistic manner, their rational half urges them to take a scientific approach, setting aside animistic mentality. It is a kind of dualism or hybridity. The two halves sometimes clash. However, more often they coexist without conspicuous conflicts.

It may be a source of wonder or amazement that the 150-year process of modernization and industrialization of Japan did not substantially extinguish the people’s animistic mentality. Thus, even today, Japanese high technology is taken care of by those who abound in animistic ethos. Don’t take it as a contradiction.”

Collection space for the kuyo (soul pacification) of old dolls

Setsubun

Demon at Kyoto’s Rozanji temple

Feb 3 is Setsubun and a time for throwing beans at demons.  (Beans represent vitality, demons represent evil spirits that cause illness and ill fortune.) The event takes place at shrines, temples and in people’s homes.

Here’s Wikipedia’s succinct overview of the custom and its origins:

“Setsubun is the day before the beginning of Spring in Japan.  The name literally means “seasonal division”, but usually the term refers to the Spring Setsubun celebrated yearly on February 3 as part of the Spring Festival.  In its association with the Lunar New Year, Spring Setsubun can be and was previously thought of as a sort of New Year’s Eve, and so was accompanied by a special ritual to cleanse away all the evil of the former year and drive away disease-bringing evil spirits for the year to come. This special ritual is called mamemaki (literally “bean scattering”). Setsubun has its origins in tsuina, a Chinese custom introduced to Japan in the eighth century.”

For an explanation of the beans, click here.
For some interesting facts about the festival, see here.
For a description of the festival at Kyoto’s Yasaka Jinja, see here.
For a photo story of Setsubun at Shimogamo Jinja, see here.

Purification of place prior to a Shugendo ceremony
The Shugendo ceremony involves smoke from burning pine as wooden prayer tablets are thrown into the flames to be ritually burnt
Maiko descend from the stage after distributing lucky beans at Yasaka Jinja in Kyoto
Geisha join senior parishioners to throw lucky beans at Heian Jingu in Kyoto
Demons personifiying all things bad appear at many festivals
Eating a specially fat sushi roll (ehomaki) in the year’s lucky direction is a Setsubun custom
Priests at Shimogamo Jinja show there’s a religious aspect to all the jollity

Related posts:

  1. Matsuo Taisha Setsubun (4)
  2. Setsubun is here (3)
  3. The Plague (3)
  4. Shimogamo First Zodiac Festival (Hatsuetosai) (2)

Shimogamo Sunday

Big queue for the little ‘hokora’ dedicated to the dragon, this year’s zodiac animal

A month has passed since New Year, so I was surprised to find Shimogamo bustling with visitors despite the cold of a 7C afternoon. There has certainly been a noticeable upturn in numbers and the reason is not hard to discern. It is one of three shrines recently highlighted on television as one of the few places in Kyoto to worship at a subshrine to the dragon, this year’s Chinese zodiac animal.

Watching the various activities and jolly atmosphere brings to mind questions about whether it is all religious in essence, or simply a custom, or even just superstition? The answer is far from clear. On the one hand is the sheer number of people evident on such occasions, nearly all of whom pay respects, toss a monetary offering into the collection box, and buy an amulet or votive plaque (ema). On the other hand there are surveys that suggest that only five percent or less actually “believe” in the kami to which they are nominally praying. More often than not, worshippers have no idea of the name of the kami.

Water brings to light the invisible ink fortunes

In Western terms a parallel can be found in the celebration of Christmas. In the UK for instance, nearly everyone takes part in some kind of festive activity, yet few would claim to be practising Christians. Indeed, for many if not most the celebration has nothing to do with a belief in Jesus or God. It is more a matter of custom, shaped by the culture in which it takes place.

So it is that certain things are taken for granted by Japanese visitors to a shrine. It is customary to wash your hands before entering the compound as a symbolic purification of body and mind. It is customary to pay respects by bowing as you enter through the torii. It is customary to make an offering, however little, and it is customary to give thanks to the presiding kami. It is customary too (though not obligatory) to purchase a protective amulet or other goods from the shrine office.

Queue at the shrine office to buy amulets and prayer tablets (ema)

Behind the Japanese shrine visits lies a strong respect for tradition and ancestry. The custom of kami worship has been practised for over a millennium, though standardisation only came after the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Participation in shrine visits is not so much about kami worship, however. It is more a matter of communal compliance, fosgtered by a sense of belonging and what it means to be Japanese.

Post-shamanic cultures take their form from the role of the shaman in ancient times. It involved not only contacting the spirit world, but preserving the tribal identity by knowledge of the history and mythic past. Shinto shrines perform a similar role, for the annual round of festivals and rituals honour the way of those who came before. How appropriate then that this year should be the turn of the dragon. Living in the watery depths, the mythical creature has wings which allow it to soar into the high sky. In this way it unites heaven and earth, a messenger from the gods and ancestral spirits that guide Japan even into the present day.

Wedding photo near the entrance gate to the shrine compound
Hatsumiya mairi – first shrine visit for the youngster, already being reared into the Japanese tradition
One of the shrine’s plum trees was in blossom, alarmingly early
The shrine’s large-scale ema showing what all the commotion is about
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