Over zen en leven
The Entrance
The path up the hill to Tofukuji is not perfect. It’s a strange combination of plain concrete and a number of beautiful big rectangular grey granite stones. Look to the right, you see a hedge, and behind it, some temple buildings. Look to the left and you see a fence. Why is it so, why can’t you see something?
The garden next to the path, before your eye reaches the fence, is near perfect though. A few trees are scattered on the sand. No fallen leaves give the garden an almost extraterrestrial atmosphere. There’s an untangible silence and it seems to have a power of its own.
The first time I walked up that path and saw that garden I knew this was the place. I was dead nervous nevertheless.
After entering, I could put my luggage in the lay people’s room. ‘If they want to have me out of here, they will have to carry me out’, I thought. Right after, November sesshin would start. Fukushima Roshi allowed me to stay.
That first time, I stayed for 3 months, enough to experience Rohatsu in December and bitter cold in January. In winter, the sound of crowes only emphasizes the barren loneliness of life in the monastery. The little fire in the morning heats up only one side of the body, making one even more aware of the cold.
I returned several times, never did another January though. After I got married and wasn’t able to come for a few months at a time anymore, the Roshi advised me to come at least for Rohatsu, which I did.
Ron Sinnige, 19-12-2005
The garden next to the path, before your eye reaches the fence, is near perfect though. A few trees are scattered on the sand. No fallen leaves give the garden an almost extraterrestrial atmosphere. There’s an untangible silence and it seems to have a power of its own.
The first time I walked up that path and saw that garden I knew this was the place. I was dead nervous nevertheless.
After entering, I could put my luggage in the lay people’s room. ‘If they want to have me out of here, they will have to carry me out’, I thought. Right after, November sesshin would start. Fukushima Roshi allowed me to stay.
That first time, I stayed for 3 months, enough to experience Rohatsu in December and bitter cold in January. In winter, the sound of crowes only emphasizes the barren loneliness of life in the monastery. The little fire in the morning heats up only one side of the body, making one even more aware of the cold.
I returned several times, never did another January though. After I got married and wasn’t able to come for a few months at a time anymore, the Roshi advised me to come at least for Rohatsu, which I did.
Ron Sinnige, 19-12-2005
