Kin'yoku-inja Temple

 

 

            Bamboo trees towered on either side of the lane, and a cool breeze swayed the laden boughs, washing dappled light over the cobblestone walk. Ayaka advanced between the viridian bamboo until coming to the outer walls, where a torii gate-shrine loomed. The empty portal was formed of posts supporting slanted crosswise beams; all painted bright vermillion, cut by the clear sky. A guardian dragon was perched at either flank, wrought in gold and fearsome. Other people came and went, including monks in ochre kasaya robes. Before entering, everyone bowed at the torii gate, for it marked the transition from the earthly to the sacred.

            Beyond the threshold, across a courtyard, rested Kin-yoku-inja Temple; a massive, three-storied wooden structure, with pillared verandas, and crowned by a magnificent tiled roof. Near the stairs, Ayaka lifted one of the ladles from the purification fountain and rinsed both hands. Concluding the rite, she purchased a stick of aloeswood incense from a peddler, and ascended the steps. Standing before the temple's shrine, she tossed a coin into the offering box, bowed deeply twice, then clapped her hands twice, bowed once more, and prayed. She set her sandals in the hall. After lighting the incense in the brazier, she placed it in a soapstone burner, an offering to the gods.

            Though it was darker in the sanctum, Ayaka made out rows of people; mostly monks, but commoners and highborn as well. Pungent incense smoke rose to the echoinng chants of the kin-yoku practitioners.

            Every time she came to the temple, the words one of the monks told her the first time, returned unbidden to memory:

            In meditation we seek to clear the clouds of the mind. In so doing, the spirit of oneself and all things is revealed, and the illumination of eternity rediscovered.

            After soaking in the sanctum's collective presence several minutes, Ayaka conferred with one of the monks, a round man, about seeing the yoku master. The monk, who knew her from previous visits, granted her request. Down a corridor she went, to the back of the temple, where the building opened to a roofed veranda that overlooked the zendo gardens. It was a wide space, kept by low white walls, and interwoven with carefully trimmed bushes, evergreen bonsais, and several large rocks, isolated in their power. At the middle stretched an empty space of small white stones, immaculately swept, and raked in curving patterns. The yoku master was stooped in a corner among maples, tending to a potted plant. His shaven head gleamed a bit in the late morning light, and his beige robe shone brightly.

            "Good morning, Denka Soranoyume," he said, without shifting from his work.

            Ayaka hadn't made a sound. It was as if the gardens he'd tended so diligently over the years had sensed her presence for him. "Good morning, master Enzen," she said.

            "I'm glad you've come." He adjusted the plant a last time before looking to her. "I've been expecting you."

            Ayaka wondered how, but she did not ask.

            The yoku master crossed the gardens towards her. Although this man was the highest authority of Kin-yoku-inja Temple, and all yoku temples and monasteries in the South, he resembled so many old nomin mountain men, stocky and weathered to a toughness that spoke of forest, sand, and stone - and with a silvery, unkempt moustache and beard to match.

            "How nice of you to visit," he said, his smile clear as sunshine. "It's been three days, neh? How has your practice fared of late?"

            Rather embarrassed, Ayaka explained she'd been distracted with the festival and what not. It did not bother the yoku master. He stared at her, seeing something else.

            "You wish to talk." It was not a question. "How about on the veranda? We can see the gardens. The light at this hour looks particularly splendid."

            After Enzen mounted the scant steps Ayaka bowed to him. Under the roof's shade, the old yoku master sat down in relaxed lotus style, between a pair of bulky stanchions. Ayaka was too restless to sit, so she stood nearby, facing the zendo gardens with Enzen. It was a truly beautiful sight, yet her thoughts were faraway. The spring breeze brushed her pale turquoise kimono, and sifted the veranda's wind-chimes.

            Sensing the yoku master waited for her, she went ahead, "I have thought about it a lot, ... and, I've made a decision." She paused before the gulf her words would bridge. "I am going to find the source of Seishin-yodo."

            In the morning's stillness, a thrush of birds chirped among the camphor trees.

            "Have you come to say goodbye?"

            "No, ... I mean, ... yes... But first to ask your help." Realizing how absurd she might sound, her mind groped for the right words. "I was hoping that maybe you know, ... something, about where I can find this spring-source."

            The yoku master grinned. "You already know."

            Ayaka lacked for a response. Was it a trick? The monks often spoke in riddles.

            "Your vision." Knowingly, the yoku master gazed sidelong at her. "It and the source are one and the same."

            This was confirmation of what she hoped was true. Most was still misted in enigma however. "But how can I be sure?"

            "You can't be, unless you are. Certainty, in its most meaningful respects, is something which can solely be experienced. I believe in your vision though, Denka Soranoyume. You have a gift - the language of dreams. Often truth is bestowed in symbols." 

            Ayaka considered these things. Her entire life she had felt close to the edge of a mystery, the Seishin-yodo, perhaps. Nevertheless, she had failed for clearer understanding. She shook her head. "Maybe. I don't know."

            "When we're awake, we usually don't see the underlying significance of things. Sometimes asleep, the mind no longer stands in the way. Unknown profundities are revealed, secrets, of oneself and the world. In such a state, time itself can cease to exist. These are some of the reasons we meditate."

            Over the years Ayaka had had many dreams, some good, others bad. Of these quite, reassuringly, and startlingly, quite a few had come true, but most had not. If she really did have an innate ability, it had proven unreliable. "I believe in such things, but it isn't sufficient to show me how to find what I'm looking for."

            "Hmm." Enzen tapped the fingers of one hand over his knee. "There are indeed places where the spring-sources of Seishin-yodo emanate more powerfully. However, don't discount that a myriad of wellsprings exist. Remember, the Seishin-yodo reverberates and flows through everything."

            "Yes, it's true. However, I need to find this place, of magnified power. I can't say why. I simply know I must."

            The yoku master contemplated the zendo gardens, as if deciphering something there. A freshening current stirred the wind chimes.

            "Alright. I'll see what I can do to help. Tell me your vision again. Maybe there's a clue we overlooked."

            Ayaka described it; through mists, reflections of water, clouds and sky, a forest with snowfall. And further, a presence calling to her, which she searched for, until the vision dissipated, always before she discovered what it was.

            "You see, my vision isn't complete. Such a place could be anywhere."

                Enzen had listened closely, and was turning over the possibilities with singular focus. "That's not quite true. It's somewhere with snow. That's not likely to be south of Shenobi. And the trees you described sound like giant tanyosho pines, neh. If that's the case, it's north you must go." He pursed his lips. "That's not enough information either. There are dozens of realms north. Isodoro may be an island, but it's plenty big enough for someone to get lost in it their entire life."

            The lack of direction on the matter dispirited Ayaka. Was she to get no closer in narrowing down a destination? Looking to the horizon, she sighed. "Why must it be so difficult?"

            The yoku master raised a finger, an idea blossoming. "If this place is truly the originative source, then it makes perfect sense it's so hard to find. The Seishin-yodo sanctuaries have been kept secret since the Age of Heroes."

            "But how? By whom?"

            "By the First Gods' powers," he answered, "and the Senshin."

            Ayaka's curiosity leapt. "The Senshin?"

            "They stewarded the spring-sources in times of olden. One of the reasons people think the sanctuaries don't exist is because the Senshin's magic was purposefully used to conceal the locations from people."

            "So, you mean to say, the Senshin still exist?" She'd heard her share of tales, that the ancient order had not fallen into ages past, that remnants had hidden far from the eyes of the world.

            "Hmm. Can't say for certain, however ..." the wisp of a grin passed over Enzen's face; he chuckled. "... I may have met one once, long ago."

            It seemed he wasn't going to say more, so Ayaka waited, on edge with anticipation, until he continued. "It was before I'd started on the monastic path, when I was a young man yet. I was crossing a range of mountains with a mule-drawn cart, when a storm broke. The flood surge swept me into a steep ravine, and took both cart and mule. I was hanging on to a lip of stone for sweet life, with the waters up to my neck." Enzen fell into a lapse of solemn introspection. "I was sure I was going to die. But lo and behold, out of the woods someone came. He wore a white kimono, and a pair of jeweled swords at his belt. His hair was silver-white. I can't forget that, because he didn't appear old whatsoever. I had the impression he'd been hunting, and chanced upon me, for he tossed his bow aside and made his way swiftly down the ridge to me. He told me not to fear, that everything was going to be alright. For some reason, in that moment, I believed him."

            Enzen exhaled. "After he hauled me over the bank, it took awhile before I could rise. By then there was no trace of the stranger, except for bamboo flask, which contained a sweet water that helped me complete the journey afoot." The old yoku master shrugged. "Maybe he was just a woodsman. However, to this day, I sense there was something more in the encounter, like I'd caught a glimpse of another realm."

            A gentle wind set the chimes to trickle soothing melodies. Sunlight touched a passing tuft of brilliant cloud. Enzen smiled in remembrance. "I don't know if the Senshin still exist. Maybe yes, maybe no. Even if they're gone, it could be their magic yet lives, neh. That could explain why the spring-sources are nearly impossible to find."

            Though the anecdote had caused Ayaka to wonder and hope, it did not bring her any closer to knowing what path to follow.

            "There are some legends I've heard over the decades, nothing certain," he spoke conciliatory. "That doesn't mean the spring-source doesn't exist. I believe you have a gift, Denka Soranoyume. If you feel the Seishin-yodo calling, then somehow or other, you must answer the call."

            "Yet how will I ever know what it is telling me to do?"

            "Hmm." He pressed his lips together, pondering until he frowned. "There may be another place where you can find more answers than I can give, but I'm not sure I should be encouraging this venture of yours."

            "Please master Enzen. I won't tell anymore you helped. I promise."

            "Bah, don't worry about that. I guess I'd of told you sooner or later anyhow, and only because in great measure, I believe in your quest for the spring-source." He pointed beyond the zendo gardens - since the temple was on a hill, it was one of the few locations in Shenobi aside from the palace where one could see over much of the cityscape - and he pointed beyond the walls, to the hazed wilderness of forest and mountains afar. Enzen sounded reluctant, and at the same time inspired. "You should go north, to the Blue mountains. On the range's western side, two days above the river town of Okina-tansui, up through the Valley of Shizoku, there's a dojen monastery called Tenkaidoko. Go there, to the temple of Kinterasa, and seek out master Nishijo. He knows a far sight more than me of the olden lore. Indeed, among all dojen and yoku priests, or starseers for that matter, he has the greatest knowledge of the Senshin and ancient histories. Some claim he's even met the Senshin, and gained many of their secrets."

            Ayaka nodded slowly. The Blue Mountains? That was very faraway. It didn't matter. Finally the path was taking shape. She looked past the garden's walls, the tall trees, across Shenobi's roofs, to the azureous-purple outline of the low mountains. Gauging the distance to this nearest wildernesses, Ayaka felt small, realizing how enormous the task before her loomed. She'd never even been as far north as Ao-kuraoudo, and the Blue Mountains were a good leg further than that. It was like contemplating an ocean she must cross, and not knowing how to sail a boat, nor if there even was another shore that could be reached, or solely interminable waters. Uncertainty shrouded everything.

            "Following your vision will not be easy," said Enzen, noting her disquiet. "It will be a great challenge, Denka. I should not lie to you - it will be dangerous as well, especially now."

            Ayaka knew it to be true. Much of the countryside teemed with bandits, clans warred, assassins wreaked havoc, and there were rumors of darker things. And all could plummet for the worse, depending on how events unfolded between the lords of the South and their rivals to the east.

            "What will happen, master Enzen?" asked Ayaka. "With the kingdoms, and the Shogun?"

            The old yoku master let our a tired breath. For the first time that morning, he appeared downcast, a dark cloud passing over his visage. "I cannot say, Denka. I do know things in this world seem permanent, yet reality is that almost everything in our lives is ever changing." He shook his head apologetically. "There's no certainty here, not even in the most powerful kingdoms that ever reigned."

            His words made Ayaka falter within, as if she were standing on a slowly sinking island, with nowhere to go.

            "Everything is a risk," the old yoku master went on. "Doing nothing, even more so. It might seem safe to stay among the familiar, to do what is expected - yet nothing is assured us."

            Ayaka sought respite in the quiet; she took in her surroundings, thinking of the city, the kingdoms of the South, and beyond. Better than most her age, she was aware of how everything one held dear and trusted in as secure, with a false sense of permanence even, could be uprooted like trees in the onslaught of an unexpected typhoon. She had learned this as a girl, when her small but beautiful world came crashing down like building in an earthquake, never to be rebuilt.

            She cast her gaze amid the garden, seeing nothing; and spoke, more to herself, "What am I supposed to do?"

            "I can't tell you that," answered the yoku master. He eyed her shrewdly. "But I can ask you a question Why do you want to find the Seishin-yodo's source?"

            The question was so simple, yet Ayaka was hard-pressed to gather the right words to explain herself. A part of her already felt adrift, on that endless ocean.

            Holding back a churning of sorrow, she lowered her brow.

            "Because, ... I feel lost," she said.

            Enzen continued to look at the gardens, though she knew he listened to her. It required great effort on Ayaka's part to stifle the grief; her words were taut. "I just know, ... that I never want to come back here ... I mean, to this world. Many of the spiritual schools believe we are to be reincarnated." She shook her head. "I don't want that. I don't want any of it. It's been, ... too difficult." She closed her eyes, and tightened her fists against an inner trembling. "Maybe, if I can find this source, then, ... maybe I can be free, of this, ... of everything." In the minutes that followed, Ayaka fought back the threat of tears.

            "Mono no aware" Enzen whispered to the wind. When he spoke to her again, his empathy had grown. "In some way, at some point, everyone feels like that, Denka Soranoyume. What you had to undergo quickened such realizations. Nevertheless, I want you to understand, that although your family was taken from you, that does not mean you are lost, nor alone."

            Ayaka could not even nod to acknowledge it. She wanted to believe him. There was kindness in the old yoku master's words; enough to assuage her so she could speak evenly again. "It's not only for those reasons I want to find the source. There's something more, something I can't define."

            In the space of quiet Enzen gave, her words seemed to billow, sifting through the wind-chimes. "What is most important is that you follow your dream. To this end, your heart is your surest guide." He paused, squinting into the morning sun. "I believe you have a wonderful gift. You wonder why I believe this? Well, one of the reasons is because long ago I had a similar vision. Ah, so why didn't I follow it? That's a long story, and not very interesting. Let's just say the preoccupations of life got in the way." He gave a wry grin, which showed little sign of regret. "That is karma. Nevertheless I continue to hold faith in that vision. What is necessary now, is that you believe in it, Denka Soranoyume."

            Ayaka gave a tepid nod. "I do," she said, though underneath she was not so sure.

            "You know, it's said that aside from using tsukai birds to call to one another from afar, the Senshin also used visions. Maybe their power calls to you now? Mayybe that is your karma."

            The yoku master and Ayaka shared a meditative silence, basking in the tranquility of the zendo gardens. They spoke of lighter things. A mountain breeze from the north swished a faint song in the wind chimes, a song like silver water.

            I could stay here, in this moment, and I could stay in Shenobi. It was better not to delay though. She must push forth into that daunting ocean. What better time to strike north than at the start of spring? If she wavered overlong, the season would pass to summer, and summer yield to fall. Early snows could make the Blue Mountains impassible. And if what was foretold was true, the oncoming winter would be unlike anything seen. Therefore she might not have another chance. I will leave in five days. Just enough time to see the sakura.

            After thanking the old yoku master for his counsel, Ayaka took her leave. As she departed the temple's main sanctum, she lingered on the stairs, listening to the chanting. She prayed: Help me Amaterasu, to know which path is best. Please don't let me fail. 

            She exited the Kin-yoku-inja Temple, feeling lighter, clearer than she had before entering. The day was promising. First she'd find Noribuko and Harumi at the Bathhouse Inn, then they'd go have lunch together at one of their favorite stalls in the market. After that, in the evening, she'd meet with Akemi, Midori, and several daiymo. The Spring Festival was in full swing, and there were a plethora of entertainments and events to partake of. But I will not see the sakura yet. I will wait, a few more days, until they have bloomed in full.

            Ayaka left the temple grounds by way of a large, outer garden. The path threaded between bamboo and maples, and through a series of smaller torrii gates, all vermillion. She thought she sensed the Seishin-yodo, a living thing, like a current from the ocean she had never seen, beckoning toward a destination still lost amid clouds.