Today, I awoke early, as the morning sit for meditation at Karme Choling is at 7:00 in the morning. After an hour of meditation and a small breakfast, I spent the day learning about different Japanese arts that are central to the practice of Shambhala Buddhism.
Essentially, these arts are meant to be aids to focusing the mind, physical activities which allow for awareness and concentration.
One of the first things I experienced was an Orioki-style lunch, a highly stylized and choreographed way of eating that the practitioners described as a “dance.” The meal they ate was relatively small, and would normally take ten to fifteen minutes to eat, but in all, took almost an hour.
First, they began with a series of chants, which continued before, during, and after the meal, invoking the spirits and sanctifying the meal.
It is hard to describe how scripted the meal was. Everything, from the unfolding of the napkins to the placement of the chopsticks, was precise and distinct, highlighting the purpose of each action.
There were many intriguing aspects of the practice, such as the genuflection of the servers to the deities before service and the way each person’s set of bowls was cleaned using only a tiny bit of water in an exacting, precise manner. But part of what I most enjoyed was the offering that was made to the hungry ghosts, or spirits that are cursed with an insatiable desire:
Each person at the beginning of a meal puts a few grains of rice aside for the hungry ghosts, which is collected at the end of the meal. The part I loved the most was the humility, a constant practice in orioki. As each person placed their offering into a larger bowl, both the diner and the server looked away, so as not to see what anyone else had given.
From there, I went to see Anthony, a long-time Buddhist who has been practicing the ancient Japanese art of archery, or Kyudo, for nine years, although he calls himself a beginner:
Kyudo, when used as Buddhist practice, involves many stances and pauses, constantly focusing on the moment and the surrounding world. After a few minutes of preparation and a dropped arrow, he released an arrow towards the small target across the field.
It didn’t come close to reaching its destination. It veered somewhere to the left, diving into the grass and almost spearing a small bird.
But Anthony said it’s not about hitting the target, and it’s not about not hitting the target. “I don’t even know why the target is there,” he said. In fact, he only aims for it in one of his first stances, and afterwards is concentrating on other things. The purpose is to clear the mind. The outcome of where the arrow goes is inconsequential.
Anthony lives for Kyudo, as he says that it is one of his most powerful forms of meditation. And recently, he was offered a great honor, to live and study with Kanjuro Shibata Sensei XX, the premier kyudo master in the world. The sensei left Japan and now lives in America, where he says that the real art can be found; kyudo in Japan has become so popular that its focused spirit has dissipated.
Anyhow, before this post gets too long-winded, I spent the rest of the day swimming in a stream with a group of Buddhists. Some people had arranged long stones on their sides to look like an impromptu stonehenge, with driftwood in the shape of a dragon as protection. It’s the one time I didn’t bring my camera, unfortunately.
And I closed the day with a crash course in Tibetan, which I barely understood. I did learn “hello,” however, which is “tashi delek.” It means “auspiciousness, happiness, and excellence,” all in four syllables.
