Escaping noise: My Zen retreat in Kyoto suburbs

As I travel the world, I discover the charm of each country and also come to appreciate the beauty of my homeland, Japan. In spring, cherry blossoms dance gracefully at a rate of five centimeters per second. In summer, watermelon, wind chimes and sparklers stir the heart. Autumn brings leaves that glow red under the moonlight. In winter, I long for hot springs and sweet sake on snowy days. The ever-changing seasons and the vibrant beauty of Japan’s nature offer endless enjoyment throughout one’s life.

When I return from my travels, I quietly say to myself, “I’m home.” As I savor a bite of Japan’s perfectly white and glossy rice after a long absence, I think, “This is home, a place I always want to come back to.”

Speaking of rice, in Japan, it has long been believed that even a single grain of rice contains a deity. There are mountain gods, fire gods, water gods, wind gods and rice field gods. Even the “Toilet God” in Kana Uemura’s song is a deity called “Mizuhanome-no-Kami.”

Japan has a tradition of worshiping eight million gods (Yaoyorozu-no-Kami), and the belief that everything in this world holds a deity is quite rare to find anywhere else in the world.

Alongside Shinto, which is unique to Japan, Buddhism has coexisted and thrived. At the heart of all Japanese cultural practices, such as tea ceremony, martial arts and flower arrangement, lie the indigenous Shinto beliefs and Japanese Buddhism.

Distancing myself from the noise and reflecting on myself

In our modern lives, overloaded with information, we live constantly exposed to various types of noise. Social media feeds, LINE and emails are updated every few minutes. Notifications now appear on our phones, tablets, computers and even watches, making us feel like we’re missing out if we don’t check for updates frequently.

Unconsciously checking social media timelines constantly can make us feel left behind by the world, dissatisfied with our own experiences in life, and unfulfilled. I’ve had this slightly gloomy experience several times and started practicing “digital detox” gradually since last year. As I reduced the time spent on digital devices, I found myself spending more time just being idle. I also became better at focusing on the conversations with the people around me.

Thanks to technological advancements, we can now know what’s happening on the other side of the world in real-time and even feel like we’re traveling without actually going anywhere. It’s a very convenient world. However, it has also become more challenging to create “margin time” to face ourselves and sharpen our senses in the present moment. That’s why, although I may not go as far as to lead a hermit life completely away from worldly desires, I wanted to escape a bit from the noise and the world to reexamine myself.

Taking a breath, entering the world of Zen

The place I visited this time to take a breather was the “Nagaoka Zenjuku” in Nagaokakyo City, Kyoto. “Nagaoka Zenjuku” is a Zen dojo that accepts residents for Zen training free of charge. Initially, it only accepted students, but recently it has started accepting working adults as well. This change was prompted by the declining interest in Zen among young people.

Zen, originally a sect of Japanese Buddhism, places the highest importance on the state of “nothingness” — free from desires and attachments, with a clear mind. To achieve this state of nothingness, one practices zazen (seated meditation). While practicing zazen, one does not cling to thoughts or things, nor is one caught up in worries about the past or future, instead focusing solely on “the present moment.”

“That drama I watched last night was really interesting.”
“What should I do today?”
“My legs are falling asleep.”

During my first zazen session, I realized how my mind was filled with distracting thoughts. Nervously, I glanced at the unsui (Zen trainee) beside me with narrow eyes. His back was perfectly straight, and he sat in zazen with a dignified profile. While I couldn’t discern his thoughts, it’s believed that one’s inner state often manifests outwardly. I quietly averted my eyes and refocused my attention on myself.

The chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves gradually faded away, replaced by the sound of my breathing and the beating of my heart echoing within my body. Adjusting my posture, I took a deep breath. The faint scent of incense wafted through the air.

Slowly, I exhaled, imagining the distracting thoughts leaving my mind. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I focused solely on breathing.

As my breathing settled, my posture naturally aligned. The anxiety and tension I had felt about my first stay at the temple now felt like a calm, wave-free sea. Simply being here felt comfortable.
…Chiiiiing…
The clear sound of a bell (rin) echoed through the zendo, signaling the end of the zazen session, breaking the silence. I looked up at the sky outside the zendo. The dark night sky had transformed into a purified, soft blue.

Pulling weeds with total absorption

After finishing zazen and having breakfast, we cleaned the temple. The cleaning tasks varied by day, such as picking up fallen leaves in the bamboo grove on the premises, cleaning the zendo or pulling weeds. That day, all the guests were assigned to weed the courtyard.

When I stepped into the courtyard, I gasped at the sight of the beautiful garden. Pine trees soared freely into the blue sky, and beneath them spread a magnificent pond where koi swam freely. The deep green moss felt like a plush carpet to the touch, and the dry landscape garden of raked gravel undulated in serene waves. It was clear that every corner was meticulously and lovingly maintained.

From the breathtaking scenery before me, which seemed to encapsulate the essence of Japanese aesthetics, I lowered my gaze to the ground and saw the vigorously growing weeds gently swaying in the breeze. I squatted down and slowly pulled each weed out by its roots. When was the last time I touched soil? Ants were busily carrying their harvest back to their nests, and grasshoppers occasionally hopped about.

Life was thriving and ecosystems were unfolding in places we usually don’t pay attention to. “This one has quite deep roots,” I thought to myself. “Oh, there’s a flower blooming. Did a bird drop its seed here?”

I kept pulling weeds while murmuring these thoughts in my mind. Tap, tap. Someone tapped my shoulder and informed me that cleaning time was over. At that moment, I realized I had been completely absorbed in the simple act of pulling weeds without any distractions. As I removed the weeds, I also felt a sense of joy in clearing away my inner distractions.

At that moment, the words of the master who had said, “Cleaning the temple is also a part of Zen practice,” resurfaced in my mind. In our complex modern world, it seems natural to experience joy and worry with each change in circumstances. However, by creating a foundation that allows us to maintain a space of “inner peace” no matter where we are or what we are doing, we might be able to focus on the present and live in the moment with a clear and serene mind.

This was a valuable time for me to take a breath and gain an important insight for living a contented life.

Nagaoka Zenjuku
Address: 2-16-1 Tenjin, Nagaokakyo City, Kyoto Prefecture
Official Website: https://nagaokazenjuku.or.jp/

Originally published on Livhub.