DAY TWO: Night at the Temple–the two ends of a person make the middle shine.

I was looking for a place already. I can’t stay one more night on the beach, and it is so hard to camp in a city.

Four months earlier, someone I met at a dinner party in the City of Fujisawa told me about his bicycle touring. Immediately, I start recording in my head. I knew this person’s experience would be helpful. As the conversation develops (Shima San 76), he mentioned that he stayed in a temple during bike tours when he was around 20.

GD: temples, oh, yes, I love these places.

Shima San -76- a man who has been around and always carries a slight smile. Solid voice and happy memories. He worked and lived many years abroad. Shima San held his wife by the hand outside their house.

That same day, a friend I contacted a temple in Fujisawa.

With all types of signals and a translator, I could finally explain what I was doing there and ask to stay one night. Somehow, 30 minutes later, I got a yes.

So that evening, the rules of the Temple were explained to me. I found them not so hard and maybe a bit normal. A Trainee monk was assigned to me because he spoke some English. I call him Mister “N.”

To the reader-Make a drawing of a house plan.

The Temple and my room are beautiful. Wood all over, impeccable line design many, many years ago.

Already in the room. Ok, I have time now to figure out where to go the next day and where to eat, but also, I am thinking about how I can do interviews and collect letters for the Hikyaku letter project.

Making my art and some conceptual pieces from the road is fine, but I will have to use all my senses and find ways to communicate. The busiest places can become the quiet ones.

I must ask a question. Gabriel asks, “Mister “N,” may I ask you a question?” “Yes,” Mister “N” replied. 

GD: “Is it hard to be a full-time Buddhist priest student and live in a temple?”

N: “yes, it is hard.”

GD: “Do you have a family?”

N: “I do. Wife and kids.”

Mister “N” told me about his wife, some troubles, and how this life in the Temple is mixed with his other life.

GD: “How is she doing these days, your wife?”

N: “She was sick but now is ok and recovering. I spend time with her during a hard time, and now she is with her family.”

GD: “How do you feel about this?”

N: “Umm, not so sure. Maybe this is an escape.”

Of course, this last answer left my head spinning.

After the brief talk with Mister “ N,” I told him about the letter collection and asked if he would like to write the first one. Mister “N” said, “Yes, I would like to do that.”

And here is where the Hikyaku letter project began, inside the Temple in Fujisawa.

 All the students I met in the Temple (the “Yugyoji” is what this Temple is called) came from other temples to learn and practice the services to later return to their own. Some come from families whose parents run temples in different parts of the country.

They have a very organized and busy schedule in the Temple. Waking up at 4:30 and doing the first ceremony of the day at 5 am was the number one rule, which I had to assist as part of the deal for sleeping there.

Mister “N” came at 4:50 am to get me and take me to the ceremony. He explained to me my job. I was in charge of the incense, which was to be lit at a specific moment during the ceremony, right after the sound of a big wood bell called “wood fish.”

The doors are closed, and I am the only one there. On my knees, it is ok, not so painful, and strangely I felt normal in all of this. I am the only strange one in there among the priests this morning. It’s a fresh morning, and I hear the priest and student walking over the wood floor and tatami floors, getting ready to begin the prayers and chants of the morning.

The ceremony starts, chant fills the room, and the singing resonates against the wooded room. Bells and wood sticks are knocking. Tik tik tik tik, making the tempo. Around me, a beautiful space appeared when my eyes closed and expanded with the sound of the chants. My body feels lighter.

 Twenty minutes later, Tok, Tok, Tok Tok. Oh, here is the knocking of the wood fish. This is my time.

 Gassho is called the action of putting your hands together. Up off my knees, Gassho. I walk to the incense box, Gassho. On my knees, Gassho. I place incense on top of the burning charcoal, Gassho. Up from my knees, Gassho. I walk back to my designated area and kneel, Gassho.

The incense smell and the smoke filled the room rapidly like a long dragon flying, and the chants sped up. Namu Abi Namu, Buddha lives in the west, I hear.

The ceremony ends, and it is time for me to return to my room. I had no clue what was next, but for sure, it was to find a place and start moving.

After breakfast, mister “N” came to see me. I was asked many times what I would do and what my plans were. My plan? How do I explain this? It is too complicated. So I decided to ask for one more night and get more time today to document this place. I want to stay here longer.

Mister “N” later that morning came to my room.

N: “Gabriel, they say you can’t stay.”

GD: “Ok, no problem.”

Immediately I began to pack with no second thoughts.

At this point, I said to Mister “N,” “I need some time to pack and seek out my next destination.”

As I was packing, my mind was already out there. Survival process. “Do not let it affect you; move on, thinking about the next stop.”

About 30 minutes later, Mister “N” returned and said, “Don’t go yet. You can stay one more day.”

I knew someone had made a call. Someone I appreciated from before. From this point, the entire situation there changed. I was received in the joint temple activities and allowed to hang with the students, seeing the two ends of each.

To the reader: Burn incense, look out the window.

The corridors of the Temple are full of peace, disrupted by the squeaking noise of a wood floor after each step, and I am walking there by myself.

What I found interesting is that having so much time to write and think, I feel empty and relaxed, but I could not get my mind to focus on taking notes. It was more about feeling the point of sharing a reason if no one asks. I started feeling it was not much of an issue for anything. ( Um, am I exaggerating?)

Today, I will leave the Temple after the ceremony and breakfast. I asked to record the morning ceremony, and I got a “yes,” so I am bringing the sound recorder and microphones.

Time can make all better. Everybody at the temple office this morning came to say goodbye. All the students and priests went, “Bansai, Bansai, Bansai, Bansai.” The moment was too special to take a photo. It’s better in my memory. Thank you.

And the start of a new journey begins this day.

Note: If you ever visit Fujisawa, look for this Temple.

Note: Finding myself as my art medium, I decided to make my happening and leave the enclosed life of the studio. I had it. The church is outside, yes, on the streets and preaching in the digital realm, the most successful religion today. I have always been fascinated by the human condition. A human connection must be prized as well.