Long range kinhin

 "Intimate with the essence and intimate with the path, one embraces the territory and embraces the road." -- Jewel Mirror Samadhi 

We mentioned earlier that kora in Tibetan means both circumambulation and pilgrimage. Kinhin offers relief to bodies that have been practicing zazen. Our Soto kinhin, as practiced inside zendos, is generally a short circumambulation and may be regarded as a very short pilgrimage. 

Some Tendai monks engage in a practice of performing a nineteen-mile circumambulation of Mount Hiei, visiting 260 sites, for, in the extreme instance, up to one thousand days, to be completed within seven years. "Part of Tendai Buddhism's teaching is that enlightenment can be attained in the current life. It is through the process of selfless service and devotion that this can be achieved, and the kaihōgyō is seen as the ultimate expression of this desire." -- Wikipedia

Famously, some pilgrims walk clockwise around the entire island of Shikoku, a circumambulation of some twelve hundred kilometers. "The Shikoku Pilgrimage or Shikoku Junrei (四国巡礼) is a multi-site pilgrimage of 88 temples associated with the Buddhist monk Kūkai on the island of Shikoku, Japan." -- Wikipedia

 These can be explicitly secular, even if one chants sutras and wears the clothing: "Five young men from around Japan, once withdrawn from society - a phenomenon known as hikikomori - embark on a 1,200-kilometer pilgrimage around the island of Shikoku, on a journey of self-discovery." -- NHK 

And yet the effects are often similar to what one might expect from religious pilgrimage. Many travelers, tourists and long distance hikers talk about how the journey changed their lives. The Way of St. James (Camino de Santiago) is noted for this: "Pilgrims follow its routes as a form of spiritual path or retreat for their spiritual growth. It is also popular with hikers, cyclists, and organized tour groups."

I have noticed the effects of secular long-distance hiking along trails or roads not associated with religious observances can be at least self-revelatory and uplifting. The psychological effects are similar to those sometimes reported by those who have crossed oceans, or circled the world, on small boats, or those who have climbed mountains. I sometimes think there is little difference between such experiences and spiritual awakenings. To move is to seek dharmas; on a sliding scale, this segues into seeking Dharma.

It is on the strength of such findings that shinrin-yoku has become an accepted form of therapy. "Not only is "forest bathing" a magical way to explore nature, decades of research has shown that it's good for your health. It can boost your immune system, lower blood pressure and help with depression. It can also reduce the stress hormones cortisol and adrenaline and turn down the dial on your body's fight-or-flight response." -- NPR

My doctor has told me to resume long walks, within my current constraints, as not walking much is a risk factor. At the same time, I'm involved in a sangha's Ango, or 90 day retreat, during which my long walks can be regarded as a form of meditation -- in effect, a kora pilgrimage. The two can be combined by means of intentionality.

From one end of my street to the other is 0.3 mile. If I cross at each end and come back to the house, it is 0.6 mile. This is a circumambulation. Namu Shakyamuni Butsu.

It's a start. Loooong range kinhin!

-- shonin

In Place 50

 

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt as it rushes past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel

 

 

With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.

Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

 

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

In Place 22

A quiet fellow waits out

morning service, anxious

for his daily walk along

green country ways, reading sign





Shown here at age seventeen, this cairn terrier is mostly blind and deaf, but can find warm sunny spots and lives by scent. The old woman thinks of their walks as a kind of kinhin, or walking meditation.

On either side of the footpath rises a row of green pines.
Over the valley, the scent of a wild plum is wafted to me.
Each visit to this place yields me a fresh spiritual gain.

-- Ryokan (tr. Nobuyuki Yuasa, The Zen Poems of Ryokan 57)

 

learning to walk

It's not that she hasn't been doing this all along:
She'd walked to school as yellow lozenges, oozing screams,
fumed past her along hot asphalt. She'd splashed the creek,

anxious for a path, then built it herself, kenning
to use her father's axe without lost blood.
She'd walked from Springer Mountain north, chatting in

her offhand way with bears, a big cat and a ghost.
She'd walked the halls of academia and then the hills,
big ones, bringing seedling trees to snug up to

the raw stumps of firs machines had eaten.
She'd walked to a job for decades, block after block
of homes with eyes of black glass inching

past her tired, angry shoes. Now, late in life,
she keeps a small dog bereft by her parents'
breathing stopped. The dog has taught much:

when to stop and sniff; how to attend with one's
whole being the business of squirrels. Bound
by the leash, that necessary thing, they two as one

take in, absorb, imbibe, inhale, entaste
all the arriving and leaving of living things. 

nothing can stand still

Nothing can stand still. If it were to do so
absolutely, I could not see it; if I
were to cease scanning, I could not then see;

therefore change is all. These were my thoughts
as I walked a dog, watching my year run down.
Apples were falling; I chose one to eat.

Hips blushed fiercely; I stuffed my pockets full.
Ash and maple and willow turned and turned.
Restless mice and voles risked their all

for seeds. We reached the river; a trout rose, an
osprey plunged; they met and flew as one.
An osprey will turn a trout head first in flight,

you know -- for improved aerodynamics. I
disbelieve it; surely the bird is kind.
It turns the trout to show it what's to come.

it is quiet out there

It is quiet out there now. She
Takes her hat, stick and forage bag,

Into which she slips her pruners, then
Slides her feet into green clogs, feeling

Quite exurban-agrarian, ready to look
Under brush piles and into cottonwoods --
In every place that might consent to harbor
Even a hint of birds' music. They have flown,
The silence tells her; those that haven't died.

Out along the roadside she waves to cars,
Understanding her neighbors have to drive,
Then pockets up crabapples, berries, leaves

That now are turning away from green: cat's ear,
High mallow, chicory, plantain, sow thistle, her
Ears pricked for passing flights of geese.
Really, thinks she to herself, there ought
Even now to be more birds. There are

Not so many feral cats round here as that.
Or could it be the sprays? She supposes
War has been declared. A war on song.