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Just time for one last post before the end of the year methinks. There’s a fresh post up on Deep Kyoto of my favorite Irish pub in Kyoto: Gnome. Now for the last message of the year from Hozouji Temple:

It reads: 反省と感謝でおくる除夜の鐘

反省　- hansei = self-reflection
感謝 – kansha = thanks
おくる – okuru = send or give?
除夜 – jyoya = the watch night on New Year’s Eve
鐘 – kane = bell

As the old year gives way to the new in Japan, temple bells throughout the country are rung exactly 108 times. In Buddhist tradition this is the number of earthly desires. As the bell peals we are released from the regrets of the old year so as to greet the new year afresh. I wonder if the lack of a kanji for the verb おくる is so as to deliberately blur the meaning between sending and bestowing. The night-watch bell sends out the old year and bestows on us the new? Here is a rough idea of what this poem means:

In reflection
and in thanks
send out the old year
with the night-watch bell

That’s all from me in 2008. I had a good year. Lots of nice students and friends and good experiences to give thanks for. Especially I would like to thank Udo Bartsch and Fumi Hirai for giving me the trip of a lifetime in South Africa and I would like to thank M.T. for being my rock. A Happy New Year and see you again in 2009!

Update January 4th: Here’s a note from Masaya on the above:

Happy New Year, Mike.
I just looked at the poem. おくる is tricky.
I think it’s like おくる in 見送る(see somebody off).
When you 見送る, you are there to see other people leaving.
So, おくる is like let someone/something leave/go/pass while you are there to see that happen.
In the poem, it is more like “listening to”.
The poet listened to the bell and thought about the year that was about to end, and his mind was filled with self-reflection and thanks.
除夜の鐘 signifies the end of the year, so it can be that おくる has the idea of seeing off the year.
Does it make sense?
Take care,
Masaya

Actually, I looked a little closer at my dictionary entry for おくる today and lo and behold, when I scrolled down just a little bit further I found that very meaning and an example sentence too: 旧年を送り新年を迎える　～　See the old year out and the new one in!
However, my translation seems to hit the mark anyway, so I think I’ll leave it as it is. Thanks Masaya!

Some time ago I set my 3rd grade writing class students the homework assignment of writing about their ideal partner. What kind of qualities would such a man possess? Well, I was marking their homework yesterday and it seems the two most popular qualities are having heaps of money and caring about fashion. This could get depressing, I thought, as I read for the umpteenth time sentences like: I want to marry a rich man because I want to buy many things, or I want a partner who cares about fashion because appearance is most important. Then, like a beam of radiant light in a very dark place, came this thoughtful piece about wanting “someone who is a curious person and tries to do new things” because (and I kid you not) “Knowing one is ignorant of things is the starting point for a real desire for wisdom.” Wow, eh? It seems some of the students are taking in some of those Buddhist ideas I mentioned a while back.

And in that train of thought here is this month’s message from Hozouji:

自己を
亡ぼす
ものは
うぬぼれ心

自己　＝　じこ　＝ one’s self
亡ぼす　＝　ほろぼす　＝ ruin, destroy
うぬぼれ　＝ conceit, vanity
心　＝　こころ　＝ heart, mind, spirit

The thing
that destroys
one’s self
is conceit

A common theme in Buddhist thought is the search for one’s real self. Conceit, vanity, having too high opinion of oneself, is the easiest way to lose sight of who you really are. If only you could see yourself as others see you, you might be very surprised by who you really are. This story today on boingboing on the conceited brokers at Merrill Lynch, is a good example of how much damage conceit can do, not just to yourself but to those around you. Recently rescued by the Bank of America, it seems Merrill Lynch employees have a tendency to look down on their relatively lower class saviours:

Merrill Lynch is bullish on snobbery and status. These snobs, wearing more expensive suits, consorted to run their company into the ground. Now they look down on the company that rescued them and the people who work there as not being worthy, not sharing their own high status. It’s another sign that failure will not humble Wall Street or cause them to change their ways. LINK

It’s worth reading if only for the brief account of the broker who belatedly realised his whole life was a lie.

Incidentally, the word ほろぼす can be written two ways like this: 亡ぼす or this: 滅ぼす. They have pretty much the same meaning, but the second kanji contains the elements of water and fire (can you spy them?); water overthrows fire see. 亡 was developed from the image of a person (the top part) being concealed or hidden by something (the bottom part). We often see this kanji in the word 亡くなる or “nakunaru” meaning to die. In this case death removes the person from view. So this meaning of ほろぼす is made much stronger, I think. Conceit is in fact, the death of the soul.

A fresh post up on Deep Kyoto today for the cafe/bar Salut Ya. Top slogan they have there: Soup! Hamburger!!

Last weekend I went to see the long-awaited follow-up to Batman Begins (which I loved), The Dark Knight. I’d heard it was dark, but man, that’s a really dark movie. I think it’s less a Batman movie than a movie about three people (one of whom happens to be Batman) who decide to take a stand against the crime and corruption in their city and then are totally and utterly thwarted by a twisted psychopath called the Joker. Forget any other portrayal of the Joker you have seen, they were just cartoon characters. Heath Ledger’s Joker is a flesh and bones character you can believe in: creepy, scary, nasty, he lives for mayhem, pain and fear. And did I mention scary? He’s really scary. Oh, he also likes to corrupt people. He loves that. Moral quandaries – he likes those too. It’s a complex story and not for the kiddies. I’m wondering how they are going to follow that up.

On Sunday, I went to see the Ujigawa fireworks. Great display. I’ve always thought 花火 or fireflowers is a great name for fireworks. On Sunday, they had fireworks that looked like flowers, hearts, cats, smiley faces and Doraemon. Yet all I managed to take were these lousy pictures:
BubbleShare: Share photos – Create and Share Crafts

People weren’t kidding when they told me it would be packed though. It took ages to get home when it was over. Still I enjoy the summer festival atmosphere, the yatai stalls with their crap-but-tasty food, the girls in yukata, the street beers, the excited children…

Now, once again the Japanese festival of the dead, Obon, is upon us and it’s time for another message from Hozouji.

Obon
kono yo to
ano yo no
tsunagari wo
kakunin suru
kikai

Obon:
a chance to reaffirm
the ties between
this world
and the next.

During Obon, the traditional belief is that the departed spirits of our loved ones return to visit their homes. Families get together during this time to honor their departed relatives and visit their family grave. In Kyoto, they light fires on the hills around the city on the 16th, to guide the spirits back to deads-ville. I’ll be there watching on Saturday in my jimbei. And then I’m going to Joao for Masuda’s birthday party. I think that’ll be my last blast for the summer. Off to South Africa next Tuesday for ten days, and it’s winter there…

I want to get a couple of links out of the way first so…

There aren’t enough posts on bars on Deep Kyoto. This summer I aims to remedy that. God help my liver! Anyway, the first of many is up tonight: Bar Hawkwind. It’s a good place. I like it.

And this will make you smile if you haven’t seen it already: Where the hell is Matt?

Now on to tonight’s topic. The last meditation from Hozouji, if you remember went like this: すべてが割りけれぬところに人生の妙味がある
Which I somewhat lazily translated as: Not everything can be broken down into simple solutions, and therein lies life’s beauty.

Well, Masaya was good enough to write to me with some thoughts on it and here they are:

There are two tricky parts in the original, which are difficult to translate.

The first is 割り切れぬ（割り切れない, the opposite of 割り切れる）.

Maybe you know, but it’s originally a mathematical term.

If you divide 10 by 2, you get 5. That’s 割り切れる.

If you divide 10 by 3, you get 3.333333333333333333(and 3 continues forever). That’s 割り切れない（= 割り切れぬ）.

We use this idea metaphorically for something that you have to decide, you have to make choice, or even how you feel about.

For example, if someone ask you whether you like your job, and your answer is either ” Absolutely” or “Absolutely not”, then that’s 割り切れる.

If your answer is “Yes and no. I like it because such and such, but I don’t like it because such and such, but then …, even so …. but on the other hand … (arguments for and against continues on and on like the never ending decimal places)”, that’s 割り切れない.

It is also used to describe feelings. When you decide something or accept something, and you feel that something is not quite right about it, that feeling can be described as 割り切れない.

割り切れない indicates there is no simple solution, it’s not easy to find a simple answer.

In your translation, you use “simple solutions” to capture the idea, which is very good.

The next one is 妙味. This is an interesting word. It’s a combining 妙(strange) and 味(taste). “Strange taste” in 妙味 has a positive meaning. It’s strange, unusual, not boring, not common, so it’s interesting. Life is interesting because not every thing has a simple solution, and you have to find answers to many things. And even when you think you’ve found an answer, you have an uncomfortable feeling of unsettledness（割り切れない）.

I like this poem. Thanks.

Thank you, Masaya! Now the thing is, when I first translated this poem there was something, an uncomfortable feeling of unsettledness in fact about my translation that bugged me. That strong sense of life being “interesting” in 妙味 was completely lost in my translation because I stuck too closely to the dictionary definition of beauty. This despite the still small voice at the back of my mind telling me that something was amiss. Of course I could have gone with charm as my friend Osamu suggested, but that word didn’t seem to carry enough weight (not in it’s light and fluffy modern meaning anyway). So Masaya’s commentary got me thinking again and I think I finally hit on the right word:

Not everything
can be broken down
into simple solutions,
and therein lies
life’s fascination.

Seems kind of obvious now… Lesson learned: trust your instincts, not the dictionary!

I shall be posting a fresh meditation very soon.

Today’s message from Hozouji:

信頼は
最上の縁者
心の安らぎは
最上の幸福

shinrai ha
saijou no enja
kokoro no yasuragi ha
saijou no shiawase

Notice how the kanji for good fortune 福 has been squeezed into the word for happiness: しあわせ. This is from the Dhammapada (法句経). The story goes there was this king who used to eat a big old meaty lunch every day and then fall into a big old snorey food coma during the Buddha’s sermons. Unphased, the Buddha advised him to cut back on the fatty foods. The king did so, promptly lost a few pounds and became super alert and attentive. “Thanks Buddha!” said he, “I feel SUPREME!”, whereupon the Buddha intoned a few verses on “the supremes”: “health being the supreme attainment, contentment being the supreme treasure, blah blah blah…” and this time, miraculously, the king didn’t fall asleep! As for translating the Japanese, the biggest problem for me was how to translate は. Does the は in “信頼は最上の縁者” tell us to trust those who are “closest to us” or to make those we trust “our best family”? Jay Rubin has a good book on は and about where exactly it throws its emphasis. I cheated and looked up the Pali verses. This one’s for John Mulry (the laughing Buddha of Birmingham):

Those you trust
are your greatest kin.
Peace of mind
is the greatest joy.

Update May 6th: Some further thoughts from old pal Masaya Kanzaki:

I looked at the poem and had to think for a while.

The two lines are parallel to each other in terms of structure.

A は B. C は D (A= 信頼, B=最上の縁者, C=心の安らぎ, D=最上の幸福) is like “A is B. C is D.”

For me the beauty of the poem is this parallel structure, so I want you keep it in your translation, which would be something like:

Trust is the greatest kin.

Peace of mind is the greatest joy.

The first line is ambiguous but 「信頼は最上の縁者」 itself is ambiguous too, so you can leave the ambiguity in the translation.
My interpretation is “Trusting other people is good; it’s like the greatest kin.”

I wasn’t quite sure what 縁者 means so I looked it up in the dictionary.

It says that people used to make a distinction between 親類 and 縁者, both of which mean “relatives”.

親類 refers to relatives who are connected by blood, whereas 縁者 refers to relatives who are connected by marriage.

Going back to the poem, trust can’t create blood relations but it can create a strong bond like the one between 縁者.

Another interpretation is that 縁者 does not mean relatives. It can be seen as the combination of 縁（connection） and 者（person） to mean a person who connects you to others.

Trust is the greatest connection creator.

That’s all I can think of at the moment.

Well, I think that’s plenty. Thanks Masaya!

Tonight is party time at Joao for Nana and Eri (AKA: Janet Jackson) ‘s birthdays. Then I’m off to Ishikawa for the next two days to soak in outdoor hotsprings and eat crab. Lovely.

Before I go, there’s a fresh post up on Deep Kyoto of an old favorite Hiraganakan. Good value for your yen there, and tasty too. And here’s the latest meditation from Hozouji.

Here it is in kanji and then romaji:

大自然や
多くの人に
支えられて
生きる私

daishizen ya
ooku no hito ni
sasaerarete
ikiru watashi

And here’s a rough translation:

The world of nature
And a host of people
Sustain me
And I live

Isn’t that a nice message now for Easter: the ancient spring festival of Eostre, goddess of the dawn? Let us give thanks and praise, now that winter is over, for the continuing bounty of Mother Earth, and for those people near and dear, who help us to celebrate the continuing renewal of life. Happy Easter to you! Now somebody pass me an egg!

Related Article: Cadbury’s Cream Egg Day (Easter 2006)

My goodness! The snow was coming down in sheets today! I don’t think I’ve seen such a snowfall in Kyoto before. After finishing my stint at the clinic today, I slopped through the slushy streets to check out the latest meditation at Hozouji. It’s a simple one this month. Simple kanji, simple words, simple message. But it’s no less important for all its simplicity.

Here it is again in Japanese script, romaji and then my translation:

人間は不完全
良くなろうと
思う心が
救いの根

ningen ha fukanzen
yoku narou to
omou kokoro ga
sukui no ne

People aren’t perfect
But the heart that wills itself
To be better
That’s the root of salvation.

Like so many of these meditations, the message is one of simple common sense. As my friend Masaya Kanzaki writes: “My interpretation of the poem is that we are imperfect and never achieve perfection, so we should value the attempt to be better itself; the intention and process, not the final results.” But still knowing this is true and keeping it in mind are two separate things. This will to betterment is the “root” (根) of salvation; something we must foster and tend, to let it grow, first in our own hearts as we learn to grow beyond our simple human frailties, and then perhaps in our relations with those around us as we strive to live for a better world.

Here’s a New Year meditation from Hozouji. It’s a very positive one I think.

Here it is in kanji and then romaji:

迎春
私たちの人生
あらかじめ
決められた
道はない

geishun
watashitachi no jinsei
arakajime
kimerareta
michi ha nai

Quite an easy one this one, (for a change). Here’s my translation:

Welcome in the New Year
The path of our life
Has not been pre-determined.

I read this as a positive message: our lives are full of potential, nothing is decided in advance and it’s all up for grabs. In other words, as my friend Paul Sparks keeps telling me: “Go for it!” (which I fully intend to do!)

Here’s the last meditation of the year from Hozouji, (I took this just a few days before heading home):

Now, I can’t type up the kanji for you because I’m using my sister’s computer (no Japanese script on here see) so you will have to make do with romaji. I think this is right (not sure as the calligraphy is a little funky):

Nenmatsu
Owari wo
Tsutsushimukoto
Hajimenogoto to nareba
Yaburerukotonashi

“Tsutsushimu” can be translated as “being careful”, “prudent” or “moderate” but it also can have the meaning of “temperance” (as in not overdoing the booze, fags and mince pies) which seems very appropriate as the Christmas party season commences. I am not sure however, what the “yaburerukotonashi” at the end is saying. Yabureru means to be defeated, to lose, to be beaten. As this is a Buddhist meditation, I’m assuming it’s referring to the self, in a very personal sense, some kind of self-defeat or failure. But is it referring to the future, in the sense of being undefeated (and thereby successful) in future endeavours? Or is it referring to past failures as in starting afresh with a clean slate? Or both? And if both – how the heck am I going to translate that? Masaya? Help!
Oh well, I think it might mean something like this:

At Year’s End
Finish things with care
To start afresh
Without regret

The latest meditation from Hozouji on Uradera Dori:

苦も楽も
心
ひとつの
おきどころ

ku mo raku mo
kokoro
hitotsu no
okidokoro

苦 is suffering or anxiety and 楽 is relief or ease. It is a part of buddhist teaching that whether we are happy or unhappy, anxious or at ease is in large part up to us as individuals. How we choose to react to the world around us and “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” it throws at us, pretty much determines how content or dissatisfied we are with our lives. That decision takes place in the human heart (心), and we must accept responsibilty for whatever emotion we choose to put in that place (おきどころ）. With that in mind, here’s my attempt at translation:

Both suffering and relief
are stored
in one same heart