Visiting a Zen Buddhist Monastery – Eijeiji Temple

It’s been a stressful week, a rainy day road trip to “the temple of eternal peace” was exactly what I needed. Eiheiji temple is a thirty-minute drive through the 田舎 (county side) from my house in Fukui City. We pass through rows of rice fields along the way. The many hills are covered by cedar trees and speckled with orange deciduous trees. Thick fog hides parts of the landscape. Between rice fields, there are small creeks that parallel the road and clusters of traditional houses. The natural landscape reminds me of home, the rainy Pacific Northwest. However, the cedar trees differentiate the forest slightly from Canada; the lofty green branches grow much higher up on the trunk. The sound of the rain and the peaceful atmosphere set the scene before we reach the temple. Once we arrive, I’m surprised by the size of Eiheiji. There are multiple areas to visit, each with a different purpose for the monks. After taking a moment to appreciate the red Japanese maple leaves falling over the stream that flows through the temple, we wash our hands, remove our shoes and walk through the entrance. Eijeiji temple was founded in 1244 by Dogen Zenji. He encouraged the Zen practice of shikantaza or “just sitting.” This type of meditation does not involve concentration on one object but on everything you experience in the moment. Shikantaza encourages focusing on thoughts, feelings and surroundings without attachment. 

We walk up the stairs to the upper part of the temple. There are four lion sculptures guarding a large altar that stands before me. Golden chandeliers hang above as I kneel down in front of a saison box and toss a few coins in. Growing up in a non-religious household, I was never taught how to pray properly. I am unsure if it’s a request, a wish or just silence. I close my eyes and I hope that being here will help me let go of the anxiety and fear I’ve held onto since moving to Japan. I want to bring home some of the peace I feel being at the temple. After I’m finished, I bow to the alter and walk outside to join my friends again. We sit down and look out at the view in silence. Beyond the kawara roof of the lower temple is a forest draped in dense fog. Normally, I would consider the rain to be bad weather, but today it added to the calming atmosphere. 

We continue into a room that holds many memorial tablets of all the past abbots of the temple. A group of monks is talking by an altar. The monks still live, work, and practice Zen Buddhism at Eiheiji temple. There is a bathhouse where they bathe and shave their heads every five days. They pray multiple times a day and eat a vegetarian diet. I have never been to a place where people live so simply and presently. The Monks who live at Eiheiji are surrounded by nature all day and are devoted to the teachings of Buddha. In these teachings, they do not yearn for or loathe anything. They must have compassion for all living things. Buddhahood doesn’t include anxiety and distress. Seeing this way of life, even for just a day, reminded me that I can live much more peacefully if I let go of what is not in the present moment. So much of my anxiety being here revolves around what could happen and what I miss back home. Practicing letting go and focusing on the peace of the moment will help me feel fulfilled wherever I am.

We are born and die one time in this human life- How shall we live it? That is the fundamental question of the Buddha Dhaema. Is it a joyous thing to live long? Life is not that way. Is it sorrowful to die after a short life? Life is not that way. The question is how shall we live.

How Shall We Live