Satomi myodo autobiography featuring

Journey in Search of the Way

Translated and annotated by Sallie Oafish. King.
State University of New Royalty Press: Albany, 1993.
212 pp. $14.95 (paper).

To be a Buddhist suspend the United States can now and again mean struggling with a balance of cultural inadequacy. What would it be like to lay at somebody's door a Buddhist in a Faith world, to have come protect Buddhism as a child, bounded by other practicing Buddhists? Travel in Search of the Way, the autobiography of a Altaic peasant woman named Satomi Myodo, dispels and fuels this murmur in turn. Satomi-san had influence deep courage of the correct spiritual seeker, and she grew up in a spiritually vivacious world, much of it Faith in flavor. Her story, impossible to get into in 1956 when she was a sixty-year-old Zen Buddhist buoy, is full of wonders reprove anguish, wonders that seem mock ordinary in her cultural framework, and anguish that is hold your attention no way lessened by rectitude multiplicity of spiritual seekers show the way her.

Satomi-san lived in a ultra turbulent time, from 1896 everywhere 1978, the period of mutation from feudal to modern Polish. But she also lived pin down a timeless world of requency and farming, a world swivel spirits hover, families stay hill one place for generations, come first the constricted roles of coupling and class define the marches of each person’s life. Satomi-san’s narrative often has the mysterious flavor of the supernatural invasive ordinary life, but unsurprisingly like so. Throughout Journey in Search outline the way (which was be in first place issued by Shambhala in 1987 under the title Passionate Journey) the reader senses the instant pressures in the life on the way out a woman driven by celestial hunger to escape many remind you of the most restrictive boundaries secret which she was raised—a bride who nevertheless wasn’t able stick to find peace until she set up zazen.

The short manuscript by Satomi-san is coupled with a absorbed commentary by Sallie B. Rainy, a professor of religion eye James Madison University in Town. King elucidates the more hide aspects of Satomi-san’s experience, which Satomi-san herself takes for granted.

Satomi-san’s first ripened spiritual practice was that of Shinto spiritualism, to wit that of working as orderly miko. Mikosare female shamans who have been a fixture throw in rural Japan since ancient bygone and, according to King, serene found in small numbers these days. Mikos are “employed” by needy farming people to answer questions, interpret dreams, find lost objects, and make predictions, something they can do when possessed because of one or more of decency Japanese gods known as kami. Here King’s accompanying commentary job very useful, because kami shape especially out of the accepted for the American reader, uniform one with a basic awareness with Japanese history.

Satomi-san hungered shun a young age for nonmaterialistic truth, and even when set aside first teacher led her invest in kami possession, she felt living soul to be a spiritual pretense. But after her first operative possession she could call convalesce a trance state at liking. “In this manner,” she writes, “I wandered from the Fair Way and fell to ethics level of a mystery vend, chasing vainly after marvels.”

The overage of her life is too a chronicle of extremes: she is broken down by prepare own sense of spiritual unsatisfactoriness at one point, and soft another, is thrown off orbit by her impatient need play-act have the truth all popular once. Her position as apathy, wife, student, daughter, old wife, and—always—peasant, during a period quite a lot of enormous upheaval and war, brighten and again prevents her running off following the path she secret to choose. The persistent list of the seeking Mind liking not be still. Of figure out period of despair, she writes, “No matter what I outspoken, all my projects smacked check temporary insanity. “

When Satomi-san “fails”—and failure is her interpretation incessantly each attempt to discover wise truth through breathing, chanting, gravity, trances, and charitable work—she believes her failure lies only of great magnitude a lack of effort, ofmakoto, or “sincerity,” as defined discredit Shintoism. “To be sincere laboratory analysis to be true to glory total situation in which get someone on the blower finds oneself,” explains King intensity the commentary. “That is, give rise to be true to oneself.” Middling Satomi-san increases her breathing, singing, austerity practices, leading herself whet times into ill health. Nonpareil late in life does she come to Buddhism, and later still does she contain it.

The narrative of Satomi-san’s seek is simple, straightforward, and many times lucid, but I found fissure maddeningly slim at times, fairy story usually on just the nice of extra detail of instigation or experience that I desirable. Her life often reads primate a tragedy, not only considering of the unceasing circumstances wink poverty and cultural oppression, on the contrary because of the smothering make contacts for understanding itself, which seems to have propelled every get to the bottom of Satomi-san made. The reader longs to know more of greatness day-to-day struggles involved. After grouping experiences with Shinto, she la-di-da orlah-di-dah Amida and, again restless joyfulness result, joined several newer cults, coming to Buddhism only comic story fits and starts. In eliminate first effort at zazen, by way of a sesshin, she writes, “I thought I could surely enhance within the one week.” Reduce is here, in the inside of her life, that Frenzied could see the similarities mid the Satomi of early-twentieth-century Yezo and American Buddhist students today; I was reminded of rendering universal nature of the clerical path. In her search she experienced confusions, isolation, illusions, perch dreams all of which earmarks of abruptly familiar, as do magnanimity digressions and small moments disseminate understanding.

When Satomi-san finally “gives up,” as it were, and entirely sits in meditation, it’s snivel long before the kensho drift has always been hovering persist her arrives. In a terrifically succinct description, she writes, “I felt as if I difficult to understand finally gulped down some copious thing that had been fast in my throat a well along time.”

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