simonhlilly

Today is a day of rain, the Tokyo crows silent in the downpour. It is rain that surrounds, that one can hear from all directions at once – a tent of sound enclosing the world…..

There are places that seem to thresholds, where we can stand on tip-toe and almost see beyond the horizon; where the air is different, where things are not quite what they seem; edgy places, dangerous places, where the still and the moving, animate and inanimate, dead and living all dream similar dreams……

Japan sits on a line where the upper world slides into the lower world, a continuous spiritual and material escalator of recycled matter, of fire exploding into the sea, rising again as a ball of sun from the distant waters…..

Mount Fuji is the axis, the gnomon, the guardian, the protector, the landlord, the central focus; indicator of the connection still with the gods who dropped, raised, shaped the islands of Japan from the ocean mud….

Within the doors are other doors, other entrances, other sensitive spots. Enoshima is one such place. A microcosm, as they all inevitably are. Small outcropping of rock where river slices the black curve of sand. A small green hill rising from the sea, not quite an island, like many holy places. Small, bejewelled with trees, all steep steps up and down, a maze of shrines and sacred stones all dripping with rain. The shop keepers and food vendors had given up…..

Exposed rock is like frozen, fractured dragon skin, scaly, animate, sharp and smoothed at the same time. Up and over the hill to the seaward side, the symbols begin to come alive: a deep cleft descending to the sea, then a low curve of flat rock, tongue or tail, sweeping out into the waves…

The place resounds with the whispers of dragons. Dragon house shrine, small and dark, bright mirror sending to those waiting outside, acknowledgement, beneficence, amusement…..

The stories, a delight for Freudians no doubt:
Story One: fierce dragon eating the people falls in love with beautiful maiden who will only marry him if he stops eating the relatives. Eventually he calms down and settles to family life.

Story Two: a fisherman rescues a turtle from teasing children, is given a ride to the Palace of the Dragon King under the waves, spends a nice time with dancing girls. When he gets a ride back home, he’s been away for a hundred years….

Dragon caves, long and low, a slow descent to the shore, roaring water, full of snake imagery and patient boddhisattvas….

Beloved of poets, shoguns and lovers, melancholic watchers of distant Mt. Fuji (who as usual, was busy and not available to attend in person)…….