Zen and the Pinhole Pace

Giant crows float above the bell tower calling the evening spirits. Cloud formations spread out matching the wing like roof of the pagoda. Last minute tourists with their disposable cameras circle the sacredly photogenic site. The sun sets like "a bucket falling into a well." The magnetism is too much to resist. I too set up and make a few exposures as the evening wind begins to stir.

In the tradition of the Buddhist "middle way", I waver between the two worlds of peaceful solitude and the excitement of humanity. At times, I feel the need to get away and visit a temple deep in the forest of Mount Hie near Kyoto. The atmosphere is so quiet I try to walk without being heard, a meditation in itself. From behind the closed shoji door of the small main prayer hall the wailing slow motion chant of one lone monk reaches out to the universe. The cadence of his prayer slows down my heartbeat. I feel the pain of the world as he intones the goddess of mercy and compassion.

Wooden temples mirror the beauty of the forests from which they come. The life energy of the trees mixes with the feelings and prayers of those who live or visit there creating a spiritual vibrancy.

Sitting in a temple I often feel as if I'm on a ship at sea. The building seems to spread its arms wide toward the horizon as waves of green and blue catch the seasonal sunlight or misty rains. It is this openness and closeness to nature that excites my spirit. Having nature close by brings balance to the often chaotic daily life.

1/2　next page