by Reishin Denise Leong
Zen River Sangha
Appleton, Wisconsin
Along this way
Goes no one
This autumn evening
-Basho
On a mountain, in the woods overlooking a lake, a fire was lit to beckon and welcome the spirits of our ancestors and deceased loved ones.
It is O-Bon, the traditional Japanese celebration to honor and pay respects to the dead who are said to visit this earthly realm once a year in August.
After years of wanting to attend O-Bon at our root monastery, Dai Bosatsu Zendo in the Catskill Mountains of New York, I finally arrived, not knowing what to expect but with an eager inner child curiosity. How comforting it was to hear Chigan Roshi, Abbot of Dai Bosatsu Zendo, say that there are no words to explain the O-Bon experience, that we should just let it happen. He also encouraged us to light a fire to our spirits and re-engage with our loved ones and all they shared with us … and to engage in life fully, right now.
My fear that re-engaging with my dead loved ones might also bring the difficult concomitant grief, some of it still raw and sharp. But not so. As the entire sangha worked diligently, quietly in creating the magnificence of this shared ritual, I had a felt sense that all of our ancestors and loved ones were indeed here with us, once again lending their support, love, and care.
And then the lanterns. Wooden supports with a centered candle, wrapped in rice paper. Paint and brushes to decorate, to honor and express gratitude.
This was my most poignant time. To sit in spirit with the loved ones that I thought I had lost … remembering, cherishing, appreciating, and like a nova, reconnecting to the great love that will forever bind us.
Love from my boundless heart down to my brush tip manifested onto the empty rice paper lantern into form. No separation, ever. No birth, no death. The love borne from the flow of one heart to another, beginningless … endless
After dark, ceremonies, shakuhachi music, chanting, offerings to our hungry ghosts, and a silent procession.
On a mountaintop, in the woods overlooking a lake. Full moon. Lanterns placed on the water, glowing… floating in kinhin back to the spirit realm.
Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end
in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be
gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment,
and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp
to light you on your way.
-Rabindranath Tagore
