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Mikage Festival (Shimogamo) pt. 1

About half an hour ago, a large procession set off from Shimogamo Shrine here in Kyoto to head for Mikage Shrine, up in the hills near Yase.  It’s one of several pre-events for the Aoi Matsuri, Kyoto’s oldest festival.

The Aoi Festival takes its name from the aoi leaf (a kind of hollyhock), which decorates the heads of those in the procession.  Remarkably, the event is thought to date back to the sixth century, when disastrous rains ruined crops and led to the appeasement of the kami with processions and horse events.  Participants decorated themselves with the aoi leaves, which were thought to protect against disease.

In the Mikage Festival, held three days before the main Aoi Festival, a procession sets off from Shimogamo Shrine to collect the kami’s aramitama (rough spirit).  The aramitama is the aspect of the kami which causes destruction or natural disasters.  The nigimitama on the other hand is the peaceful or calming condition of the kami. (Spirits which appear as a aramitama can be tranformed into a nigimitama by pacificatiion and worship.)

In Shimogamo’s case the nigimitama resides in the main shrine, and the aramitama at Mikage Shrine on the outskirts of Kyoto.  Once a year the two aspects are brought together in the run-up to the Aoi Festival.  The coming together creates a power surge, in preparation for the main event on the 15th.  One way of seeing this is in the bringing of the ‘rough aspect’ down from the wilds and into the secular world.  Another way is in the merging of two elemental forces, as in the joining of yin and yang principles.

Before heading off to Mikage Festival, participants undergo ritual purification.  In years past they would have walked for a couple of hours to get to Mikage Shrine, but these days it is all done by coach and truck.  Even the kami hitches a ride down from the hills.

Sacred truck for a sacred ride

Purification of participating priests: notice the priest in red nearest the camera who is scattering what appeared to be confettil but must have been some kind of purifying substance (not rice or salt)

Interesting sartorial differences for male priest and female

Aoi leaves on the processional participants

Heading away to Mikage Shrine with a variety of purification tools - behind the brushes are long metal sticks used in the past to stave off evil spirits, now dragged along the gravel

Foxes

In a recent article in the Daily Yomiuri, naturalist and anthropologist Kevin Short has written of the role of the fox in Japanese folklore.  For Shinto, the fox looms large in the cult of Inari, and in The Fox and the Jewel (1999) Karen Smyers has written at length of the peculiar appeal of this liminal animal.

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Foxes are among the great perennial stars of Japanese folklore. To begin with, they are considered to be familiar spirits serving the immensely popular rice deity Inari. A set of two stone foxes stand watch in front of every Inari shrine.

Some folklorists believe that foxes became associated with rice farming because of their role in controlling mice, hares and other agricultural pests. In the past farmers would even leave out food to attract foxes to their rice paddies. Foxes are thought to be especially fond of abura-age, thin slices of deep-fried tofu soy bean paste. Pockets of abura-age stuffed with rice are known as Inari-zushi.

In contrast to this favorable agricultural image, foxes have also been traditionally imagined as clever tricksters and shape-shifters. These yo-gitsune can be encountered in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. Like cats and many other Japanese fairy animals, their magical powers grow stronger with age. After living for a century or two, yo-gitsune become able to possess people, causing illness or insanity, and also to temporarily shape-shift into incredibly glamorous women. Stories abound of men falling hopelessly in love with and marrying these “foxy ladies.”

In one famous story, a 10th-century nobleman saves a fox from a mob bent on killing it for its liver. A few days later, a beautiful woman mysteriously appears at his door. They fall madly in love, get married and have a son. Three years later, the woman suddenly disappears, leaving a note explaining to her husband that she was really just the fox whose life he had saved. Their son grows up to be Abe no Seimei, the famous Onmyoji Yin-Yang wizard who protects the imperial court and the capital city from all sorts of wicked spells and disasters.

After living for a full millennium, fairy foxes may attain a formidable style with nine tails. Nine-tail foxes, or Kyubi no Kitsune, are of Chinese origin, but have also been active in Japan as well. During the Edo period (1603-1867), motifs depicting heroes ridding the land of these often ill-tempered nine-tail foxes were widely adopted into traditional theater, literature and art.

Until quite recently, mental illnesses and emotional instability were frequently attributed to possession by fox spirits, especially in isolated rural villages. Even more frightening, there are families, called tsukimono-mochi, which are rumored to keep tiny fox spirits in vases or bamboo tubes. These spirits can be sent out on various missions, such as searching for gold or treasure, stealing, spying on people, or just causing all sorts of trouble and misfortune. The secrets of caring for and controlling these fox spirits, or in some cases similar dog or weasel spirits, are passed down from generation to generation among women of the household. Families which are rumored to possess fox spirits are feared and shunned.

Another peculiarity of fairy foxes is that they tend to emit strange lights at night. One very famous spot for kitsune-bi fox-fire is the Inari shrine at Oji in Kita Ward, Tokyo. Every New Year’s Eve foxes from all over the Kanto region are believed to assemble here under an ancient hackberry tree. The local farmers predict the yields of the coming season’s crops by the number of glowing lights they count.

Ubusuna (birthplace) Shrines

In an article for the Daily Yomiuri, naturalist and anthropologist Kevin Short has written of the tutelary shrines in the Chiba countryside where he lives.  These are based on attachment to place, and in ancient times they contrasted with the ujigami shrines which were based on clan and blood ties.  (Ubu- means birth, so Ubusuna Shrines have to do with one’s birthplace.)

There were consequently two important types of kami: the ubusugami who presided over one’s brithplace, and the ujigami to whom one was attached by clan loyalties.  With the passage of centuries such differences tended to fade away, and few nowadays make any distinction.

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The basic settlement pattern in these agricultural districts [in Chiba] is small, concentrated villages, usually called mura or shuraku. Typical mura consist of several dozen farmhouses clustered tightly together, sometimes in a thin line running along the edge of a narrow valley, and sometimes in a wider settlement on top of the high ground.

Each mura is a tight-knit social and cultural unit. A village association, or chonai-kai, is responsible for disseminating information throughout the households, and also for representing the opinion of the villagers when dealing with outside forces such as the municipal government.

Despite the intrusion of the immense residential complex into the area, the surrounding villages have for the most part managed to preserve their unity. As farmers, the villagers are held together by a core of shared interests and cultural values, which differ significantly from those of the people in the housing complex.

Another powerful force holding the community together is the spiritual element. Each individual mura is guarded by its own special Shinto shrine, called an ubusuna jinja, which houses a tutelary kami deity that watches over the interests of the villagers. As might be expected, the countryside landscape is packed with these small shrines.

Ubusuna shrines do not have a full-time priest or caretaker. Cleaning and maintenance is performed by villagers on a rotating basis, and priests are invited in to serve during festivals. The shrine buildings themselves are locked, but the grounds are not fenced or gated. Anyone can visit anytime day or night. At most times the shrine precincts are quiet and deserted, perfect for relaxing, thinking, practicing yoga, or doing whatever people do to calm and energize their spirits.

Ubusuna precincts often contain an assortment of smaller shrines and memorials dedicated to various local spirits…  As an added bonus, almost all these shrines are surrounded by substantial sacred groves. These groves tend to be dominated by native evergreen broad-leaved species such as chinquapins and live oaks. One shrine in my area, however, features several immense Japanese torreya trees.

Torreya, sometimes called nutmeg-yew in English, are conifers usually classified in the Taxaceae or Yew Family (Ichii-ka in Japanese). There are a half dozen species known worldwide, including four in Asia and two in North America. The Japanese species, kaya (T. nucifera), grows from southern Tohoku through Shikoku and Kyushu. The favored habitat of these trees is mountain slopes, and they do not usually grow wild in the lowlands of the southern Kanto. When planted, however, they can easily reach 20 meters in height and two meters in diameter.

Jizo rocks !

A Jizo rock in a small riverside Buddhist shrine

 

Walking down the Kamogawa river the other day in Kyoto, I passed a wayside Jizo shrine (see above). Nothing very unusual – you see them all over the place.  Jizo has to be the most popular deity in Japan, for his statues easily outnumber all others.  Not only is he a guardian of travellers, which is why he’s often found at roadsides and crossroads, but he helps guide dead souls on the tricky passage into the next world, children in particular.

Jizo in his guise as a monk

Mark Schumacher’s excellent page about Jizo describes the deity’s Indian origins and the first recorded appearance in Japan in the Nara period.  Jizo rose to prominence in the Heian period, when fears about the end of Buddhist Law (Mappo) were rife. Later in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when Pure Land preachers frightened audiences with the horrifying hell awaiting lost souls, Jizo was championed as a saviour.  It was around this time apparently that he became represented by the rock figures that are so numerous throughout Japan.

As a boddhisattva, Jizo is understood to have vowed to stay on in this world after death to help save fellow mortals.  He’s often pictured as a simple wandering monk, with staff in hand, which made poor villagers feel an affinity for him.  He was accessible, approachable and all too human.  No doubt the image helped spread his cult, as did the notion that he could be represented by a mere rock rather than a sumptuous gilded statue.  As such he would have fitted in with the dosojin rock figures which acted as border guardians in rural areas.

Though essentially Buddhist in origin, Jizo has been incorporated into the syncretic world of Japanese deities.  He had already taken on Taoist qualities in China, and to my friends in Japan he’s ‘the kami of children’.  It’s because of his role as a protector of children that he often gets a red bonnet and bib (red drives away illness, caps and bibs because of his role in saving children).

Rock, pure and plain

So here’s what I wondered as I wandered along the River Kamo. Why on earth is Jizo depicted as a rock? Usually a human face is drawn on it, but not always. Often Jizo appears as just a rock, plain and simple.  Pure rock.  No other Buddhist deity gets treated in this way, not surprisingly since they are considered to have been human at some stage.  So to paraphrase Groucho Marx, why a rock?

There’s only one explanation that I can think of: Jizo has been absorbed into Japan’s shamanic folk heritage. In East Asian shamanism, rocks are associated with the spirits of the dead.  Dust to dust runs the Christian refrain, and in death we return to the earth (which is after all a great big rock hurtling around in space). Corpses were left in ancient times on mountain sides to rot or were buried in tombs, and the spirits of the dead were thought to seep into the adjacent rock.  In this way they became part of the durable, permanent, everlasting world after death. It stood in contrast to this transient life of perishable matter.

On his website Mark Schumacher points out that Jizo translates as ‘Earth Womb’. Ha-ha! Here then is the vital key to understanding the phenomenon.  Jizo’s association with death and rebirth in the Pure Land means that he represents the womb-tomb to which we all return. Death is our inevitable fate, and Jizo is a rock on which we can all depend.

Rock solid.  Rock hard.  Rock for ever…  Jizo rocks on as a syncretic, shamanic reminder of Japan’s deepest spiritual impulses.

Jizo guarding the neighbourhood in which I live

One of Jizo's roles is saving the souls of aborted and miscarried babies, hence he is often surrounded by baby goods

Jizo at Mt Osore, symbolically guiding the souls of the dead across the Sai no Kawara (dry river bed) that separates this world from the next

Wayside Jizo, in his guise as guardian of travellers

Array of Jizo at Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto

Princess priestess at Ise

Nonomiya Shrine at festival time

The Japan Times today carried an article about the appointment of an Ise special priestess (see below), which relates to the old custom of ‘saigu‘ (unmarried royal princess}.  The practice probably started in the late seventh century, around the time of Emperor Tenmu (r. 673-86), and finished in the early fourteenth century.  The princess was chosen by divination, and had to undergo a period of abstinence, avoiding taboos, impurities and – interestingly – Buddhist rites.  One of the places she stayed in Kyoto before heading off to Ise was at the shrine of Nonomiya, and in The Tale of Genji (c. 1006) there’s a dramatic episode there involving Genji and Rokujo.   

The procession of the saigu to Ise was a grand affair involving several hundred people, and her palace was served by a Bureau staffed by hundreds of officials and female attendants. (The site of the palace near Ise can be visited, with a museum all about the saigu institution.) She only entered Ise Shrine three times a year, and the rest of the time was holed up in her palace doing rites and austerities much like the ancient shaman-queen Himiko.  (The ‘virgin priestess’ was no doubt a carry-over of the female shaman tradition of ancient times.)  She served in office until the accession of a new emperor, though death of relatives or poor health could also precipitate retirement.  The practice came to an end during the reign of Emperor Godaigo (1318-39).  The present appointment can thus be seen as part of the imperial nostalgia fostered by Jinja Honcho and the Ise hierarchy.

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Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Emperor’s daughter becomes special priestess 

Sayako Kuroda, ex-princess and special priestess

(Kyodo) TSU, Mie Pref. — Ise Shrine said Monday that Sayako Kuroda, 43, the daughter of Emperor Akihito and Empress Michiko, has assumed the post of special sacred priestess it established for a notable event next year.

Kuroda, who was known as Princess Nori before she married commoner Yoshiki Kuroda, took the post on April 26 in order to assist 81-year-old Atsuko Ikeda, the Emperor’s older sister and the most sacred priestess at the Mie Prefecture shrine, which honors the ancestral gods of the Imperial family, in presiding over rituals.

Kuroda will serve until the October 2014 end of a series of festivities for the Shikinen Sengu event, in which symbols of the gods are transferred to a new shrine building that is reconstructed every 20 years. Ikeda took up her post in 1988. The new post was created to help her due to her advanced age.

Kuroda, who was also formerly known as Princess Sayako, left the Imperial family when she got married.

The most sacred priest or priestess serves the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu Omikami, on behalf of the Emperor and leads Shinto priests at the shrine. The post has been held by current or former Imperial family members.

Recreation of the saigu procession from Nonomiya to Ise at the annual festival in October (photo courtesy of Kyotovisitors.blogspot)

 

Shamanic connections 4) Mongolians

If one can presume that ancient Japanese had close links with Korean shamanism, and that Korean shamanism derived from that of Mongolian/Siberia through southern migration, then it would be surprising if there were not close affinities between Shinto and Mongolian shamanism. Below are just a few of the similarities. The list could be easily extended, but I think it suffices to show how closely Shinto is bound to East Asian shamanism.

The cave at Takachiho into which Amaterasu supposedly withdrew

Worldview
Mongolian shamanism, indeed shamanism in general, is animistic, polytheistic, and aims at living in a state of harmony or balance with the world. There are countless deities and spirits, including ancestral, spirits of place, and beings that live in the upper world (tenger in mongolian is cognate with tenjin in Japanese). There’s no fixed doctrine and no holy books. Ancestor worship blends into nature spirits. In Mongolia ancient legend tells of the sun goddess Naran Goohon becoming sick and making the world dim but being restored after a meeting of the gods.  In Shinto Amaterasu retreats into a cave, making the world dim, but light is restored after a meeting of the gods.

3 worlds
In Mongolian shamanism there is an upper world, this world and a lower world where the dead go. The
lower world is dimmer than ours and can be entered through caves and tunnels etc. Human souls awaiting reincarnation can be found there, and it operates with only half a sun and half a moon. The upper world is brighter than ours and is where the chief deities reside.  In Shinto mythology there is an upper world called Takamagahara (High Plain of Heaven) where the chief deities reside, as well as earth and an underworld (Yomi) where the dead reside.

Izanagi and Izanami on the floating bridge of heaven

Bridge to heaven
In Mongolian mythology a rainbow connects the upper world and this world.  In Shinto mythology the two worlds are joined by Ama no ukihashi, the floating bridge of heaven, commonly thought of as clouds or a rainbow.

Dreams
In both Shinto and Mongolian shamanism dreams are messages sent by the spirits. They often disclose sacred sites or events of special significance. The location for many Shinto shrines and the identity of kami were ‘revealed’ in this way.

Mongolian ritual 'minaa' used to whip away impurities (courtesy of 3worlds website)

Pollution and Purification
Both Mongolian shamanism and Shinto believe that spirits are offended by disrespect, lack of hygiene, the violation of taboos, or contact with blood and death. Merit accumulates through an upright life, religious acts and sacrifices. Before rituals, purification is carried out with such means as smoke, salt, fasting and washing.  A ‘spiritual cleaner’ is used to sweep away impurities (minaa in Mongolian, haraigushi in Japanese).  The minaa can be used like a whip to clear negative energy, and is also applied to the body as a means of healing.

Sacred tree with shimenawa at Omiwa Jinja

Sacred trees
Trees are seen as a manifestation of the earth’s power, and remarkable trees represent a special mark of the lifeforce. Ribbons or silk scarves are tied to their branches in Mongolia; in Japan sacred trees are marked with a shimenawa rice rope.

Ancestral spirits
In both Mongolian and Shinto traditions, human spirits are thought to remain behind after death as protector and helper of the household. After several generations they no longer remain as individual entities but merge into an anonymous whole.  Those who exhibit exceptional power, such as Chingis Khan and Tokugawa Ieyasu, are worshipped as deities regardless of anything to do with morality

Angry spirits
In both Mongolian and Shinto traditions, people who die too young or unjustly may plague descendants and need placating.  Also those who are too strongly attached to things in this world may linger on unrequited.

Animal familiars
In Mongolia animal spirits are used by shamans as aides in their otherworldly journeys. Totem animals play a symbolic role as ancestors of various clans, and deities may be associated with a particular animal.  In Shinto animal spirits once also served as figureheads for clans and deities.  Deer for the Fujiwara clan; crow for the Kamo clan; fox for Inari; dove for Hachiman, etc.

Spirit bodies
In both Mongolian shamanism and Shinto, objects made of material such as wood and rock, or simply a doll or a paper drawing, are used as a ‘spirit body’. The spirit is drawn into the object in a special rite conducted by the shaman/priest.

Shinto drum on display during a ritual at Yoshida Jinja

Drums, bells and rattles
In shamanism the rhythmic repetition of the drum, quickening in tempo, leads to an altered state of consciousness.  In Shinto the drum is a treasured item.  In Mongolia bells and rattles are thought to attract the attention of the spirits.  In Shinto a bell is rung at the shrine to attract the kami, and miko use a kind of rattle (suzu) when dancing in order to catch the kami’s attention.

Divination
In Mongolian shamanism, as well as ancient Japan, the shoulder blade of a sheep or deer was burnt in order to interpret the burns and cracks.  Divination remains an important part of Shinto and shamanism.

Communion
At the end of rituals in both Mongolia and Shinto, participants partake in food or beverage as a means of communing with fellow humans and with the spirits.

Mirrors
Mirrors play a very special part in shamanism. Ancient mirrors are thought to possess a spirit, and they act as important sources and absorbers of energy.  Shamans wear round mirror discs on their robes.  In Shinto the mirror was elevated into a central focus of worship, as representative of the spirit of Amaterasu.

Shaman costume (courtesy of the Danish National Museum)

Manchurian shaman's costume

The pictures here come from a site called Mongolian Shaman, which has this to say on the subject of the shaman’s mirror. “The heavy shaman’s mirrors act in a double capacity – they protect the shaman by deflecting harm, while revealing what is normally invisible to the human eye. The number of mirrors on the costume indicates the shaman’s powers and maps a geographical cosmos. By wearing the costume, the shaman is located in the centre of this cosmos. During performance, a shaman is seized by one or more ancestral spirits, so that what is inside the mirror-costume is the spirits, rather than the shaman’s body. Here, the body is something open to forces that can control it, inhabit its form and shape its physical features.”

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Information draws on two books by Mongolian shaman Sarangerel – Riding Windhorses (2000) and Chosen by the Spirits (2001). The author was born in the US of Mongolian stock, and went to Siberia for training then worked closely with the shaman centre in Ulan Bator. Sadly she died in 2006, aged just 43.

Shamanic connections 3) Navaho

Navaho shaman

In Navaho cosmology all beings have a natural place, and when they are in balance the universe is a place of beauty. However, aspects of the universe have a tendency to fall into disharmony, and ceremonies need to be held to restore the natural balance. Any form of disturbance has to be controlled in this way, particularly those caused by the dead (angry ghosts). Even good people can become vindictive after death and need to be dealt with.

Shinto too has traditionally been much concerned with the pacification of hungry spirits, and the Tenmangu cult is one such famous instance when it was believed that the angry spirit of Sugiwara no Michizane (845-903) needed to be placated by deification and worship. The Japanese preoccupation with spirits is seen above all in Noh and in the annual Obon return of the dead. Indeed, a belief in ancestral spirits may be the most fundamental Japanese mindset. (See here.)

For the Navaho, contact with certain animals is considered a source of impurity and disharmony, and there are many taboos about them. In Shinto it is rather contact with blood and death. In both cases the potential contagion seemed to ancient cultures as threatening to the life force.

As animists, both the Navaho and Shinto imagine the universe to be teeming with spirits. As well as those of natural phenomena, there are the ancestral spirits and cultural gods. For the Navaho the greatest of the latter is the Changing Woman, who has two children by the Sun – Monster Slayer and Born for Water. This is echoed in Shinto mythology by the primacy of the shamaness-weaver Amaterasu and her brother, the monster-slaying Susanoo associated with the sea.

Masked drama, Shinto style

There are other spirits in the Navaho cosmology, known as yei. As with the kami, the yei are not necessarily benevolent to humans and have to be placated in order to maintain harmony. In Navaho ceremonies they are sometimes portrayed by masked dancers, reminiscent of the kagura masked dance-drama of Shinto.

Navaho culture is full of taboos, to do with rules of social contact, sexual activity, treatment of the dead, sacred objects, being untidy or dirty, etc etc. Breaking a taboo is not a sin as such, but a cause of disharmony necessitating a ceremony to restore balance. Correct performance of rituals is absolutely crucial in terms of effectiveness, a trait which characterises Shinto too. Any mistake may cause the spirits to be offended and harmony will not prevail. Perhaps here lies the famed Japanese aversion to making mistakes!

A major component of Navaho ceremony consists of requests for blessing. These ‘blessingways’ are individual rather than communal, and may be to do with childbirth, marriage, a new home, the protection of livestock or a departing soldier, etc. Shinto too offers individual rites of this type. But the spiritual healing ceremonies that are prevalent among the Navaho are absent from modern Shinto, presumably because in the transition from shaman to priest the practice was lost. Something of the old ways remains in Shugendo, however, and practitioners of mountain asceticism still carry out spiritual healing to this day.

Shugendo practitioner applying some spiritual healing

 

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Information draws on Sacred Hoop Issue 73, article by Nicholas Breeze Wood, as well as Shamanism, An Encyclopedia of World Beliefs, Practices and Culture by Marko Namba Walter et al

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