On Bicycle through Japan and South Korea
I arrived in Sapporo late in the summer, a few weeks after most Japanese had completed their vacation travels. The country roads were often free of cars and except for other hardy pilgrims, I had the high-mountain trails all to myself. During the next six months I bicycled over much of the country, from Hokkaido Island in the north to Kyushu Island in the south. I also spent three weeks cycling in the mountains of South Korea. Based on my research I had chosen some fifty religious sites to visit and photograph. These included various sacred mountains, hot springs and ancient temples. I had no more than a general idea of my route, usually planning only a day at a time. The lack of a fixed itinerary gave me the freedom to alter my direction at any time. In Japan, and also during my subsequent years of pilgrimage travel, I found this spontaneity and flexibility essential. A priest at a shrine might tell me of a little-known temple hidden in the forest. I might come upon local archaeological guidebooks that listed ruins I was not aware of. Or I might receive telepathic directions guiding me to an unknown energy point. A fixed itinerary would have prevented me from responding to these unexpected opportunities.
Walking is the traditional method of going on pilgrimage in Japan and many other countries around the world. It is not, however, the most efficient way to travel if one wishes to visit numerous places in a limited period of time. A bicycle is a superb alternative. Cycling allows one to move swiftly enough to cover long distances, yet slowly enough to really see and feel the lands one passes through. The bicycle I took to Japan was custom built to carry, in addition to my own weight, nearly fifty pounds of gear including two Nikon cameras with motor drives, eight lenses (from 15mm to 1200mm), two flash units, a small tripod, a tent, a sleeping bag and mat, a few guide books and maps, juggling balls, some clothes and other odds and ends. Conventional touring bikes are just not strong enough to handle this amount of weight, especially on rocky mountain roads. To solve this problem I had a mountain bike custom made by Ben Serotta, one of America's premier frame builders. The frame geometry was designed precisely for my physical dimensions, and the equipment racks were an integral part of the frame rather than the flimsy bolt-on type found on normal touring bicycles. Ben took months to design and build the bike, which was a work of art and one of the most intelligent long distance touring bikes ever conceived.
No matter how well designed a bicycle is, if you want to go anywhere, you still have to work hard. In Japan this effort turned out to be even more demanding than I had expected. Japanese road engineers construct their roads with steeper inclines than those in the United States. Many mountain roads required me to pedal in the lowest gear, and several grueling ascents lasted for three and four hours. But this suited me, for it kept me close to the Earth, it gave me vigorous exercise, which I so dearly love, and it gave me some feeling for the rigors that early pilgrims must have experienced on their travels to the sacred mountains.
The veneration of mountains as sacred places in Japan is so old that historians can only speculate on its origins. Stone Age sites dating from 7000 BC have been found at many of the sacred mountains. From such finds it has been inferred that originally the mountains, believed to be the private abodes of the spirits, were not climbed but were worshipped at their bases. With the influence of Buddhism, Taoism, and Indian mysticism during the fifth through tenth centuries AD, the Sangaku Shinko or ‘mountain beliefs’ of the indigenous cultures were slowly elaborated and systematized. Shrines were built on the summits of the sacred mountains, and the practice of pilgrimage to these peaks became common by the twelfth century. Highly influential in the development of this mountain pilgrimage tradition was the emergence of a little-known branch of Buddhism called Shugendo. Shugendo may be translated as ‘the way of mastering psychic powers and spiritual awareness.’ These abilities were understood to naturally develop in those individuals who lived in hermitage upon the sacred mountains. The early practitioner of Shugendo was called a Yamabushi, which means ‘one who lives and sleeps in the mountains.’ Itinerant sages, the Yamabushis spent their lives in meditation and mystical practice, seeking to attune their minds and hearts to the spirit of the natural world.
During my pilgrimage travels in Japan I endeavored to live a life similar to that of the ancient Yamabushis. As I did so, a wondrous thing occurred. Wandering from mountain range to mountain range and living upon the sacred peaks, I began to experience the Earth in a manner I had never imagined possible. The Earth became my teacher and guide, gifting me with visions and wisdom more beautiful than anything I had ever seen before. I had only to climb the sacred mountains and sit quietly in meditation upon their summits. The visions would simply flow into my mind.
The visionary material I received on the sacred mountains of Japan and Korea was concerned primarily with the consciousness of the Earth, the nature of power places, and the relationship between power places and human beings. I also received visionary messages specifically concerning my own life. What I would like to discuss here is how the visionary information comes to me when I am at a sacred site. As the size limitations of this book prevent me from describing many of the visionary experiences I have had, I feel it is important to discuss a few in some detail. The following story also serves to reveal deeper meanings of the earlier visionary suggestion that I "go upon a long journey to the sacred places of the ancient civilizations."
The story begins with a Shinto religious festival at the old shrine of Izumo Taisha on the southwestern coast of Honshu Island. Shintoism, unlike many other religions, does not venerate gods, goddesses, or historical holy figures but rather nature spirits. Known as Kami, these spirits inhabit particular mountains, rivers, rocks, trees and other natural features. While there are a great number of individual Kami, each is understood to be part of the one vital essence that animates all creation. As found in nature, the Kami provide people with the opportunity to commune with the fundamental creative essence that different religions call God. Shinto shrines are found all over Japan. At certain sites a shrine may consist only of a simple rock or tree with straw ropes and colored paper hung upon it. Other shrines are enormous temple complexes like those at Ise, Usa and Izumo Taisha.
A major place of Shinto pilgrimage, Izumo Taisha is the oldest of the great Shinto shrines and the site of an important annual festival. The festival date varies by a few days from year to year and is determined by astronomical and astrological means. In 1985 the pilgrimage festival occurred on November 21. I had known about the festival since arriving in Japan and had looked forward to it with keen anticipation. It is a curious festival with a wonderful legend. According to an ancient Shinto myth, each year in the late autumn when the leaves have fallen and nature is preparing for her long winter's rest, all the Kami spirits leave their natural abodes to gather for a month of festivities at Izumo Taisha. What they do there is uncertain, but it seems to be a kind of vacation. The gathering of the spirits and the sharing of energy between them recharges the Kami for another year of service in their respective natural abodes.
When first I heard this legend, I thought it quaint and, I must admit, a bit silly. What were these Kami spirits? How did they simultaneously know when to leave their abodes and how did they travel so unerringly to Izumo Taisha? I did not imagine that many Japanese people seriously believed this legend and thus was quite surprised, upon arriving at the festival site, to find several thousand pilgrims assembled there. The setting was dramatic and the feeling magical. It was late in the evening, and we were gathered upon a long and sandy seashore. Everyone's gaze was directed outward, over the crashing waves, into the darkness of the night. We were waiting for the arrival of the Kami.
Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed in absolute silence, yet I could sense the anticipation of the pilgrims all around me. Soon it grew beyond the bounds of the individual and ignited the collective passion of the crowd. Bonfires were lit here and there in the sand, and the flames, fanned by the sea breezes, leapt boisterously into the night sky. Excited pilgrims pressed forward as white-robed priests glanced nervously around. Everyone could feel it coming. A few seconds more and then, suddenly, almost explosively, a presence came in from the sea, swept over the beach, and surged into the crowd. The feeling, the power, the vibration was undeniable. It electrified the pilgrims. Spontaneously, a great shout of joy arose from thousands of lips. The Kami had come.
The priests performed a short ceremony of welcome, and preparations were made to escort the Kami to the Izumo Taisha shrine a few miles away. Many young men came forward carrying palanquins on their shoulders. The palanquins were ornate, box-like mini-shrines, about three feet high, supported on two long poles. The pilgrims ceremoniously invited the Kami to enter these conveyances so they could be transported to the central shrine. Then began a long parade of pilgrims and priests through the village streets. Although the hour was well past midnight, the town buzzed with festive energy. Houses were brightly lit with colored lanterns. Firecrackers were constantly exploding, and hundreds of children raced about with wild abandon. The Kami, on their way to the shrine, were blessing the town with their presence, and the local people were simply drunk with delight. Roughly two hours later the parade arrived at the massive wooden doors of the ancient shrine complex. Elaborate ceremonies were then conducted, installing the Kami in a series of small wooden buildings encircling the temple courtyard. Around two in the morning, the ceremonies were completed, the pilgrims gradually dispersed and quiet came over the town.
I stayed at the shrine all through the night, hidden away in the shadows until everyone had gone, and then wandered around the temples on my own. In the quiet hours before the many thousands of pilgrims returned to the shrine for a day of ceremonies, I wanted to explore the site in silence, without distractions. I wanted to meditate and feel the energy of the place now that the Kami spirits had come. Immediately I noticed a change from the previous day. Everywhere I walked I felt a warm tingling in my body and a sense of playfulness, joy and vitality in the air. How could I explain these sensations? Even after experiencing the arrival of the Kami presence the night before, I still found it difficult to believe that the Shinto legends might indicate an actual reality rather than being simply a fanciful story passed down through centuries of spoken folk culture. Whatever the explanation, I still keenly felt the presence of an energy that seemed to be dancing all around the courtyard.
Intrigued, I decided to try to attune my consciousness to these nature spirits. First,
I reminded myself that my assumptions about what was or was not possible neither determined nor altered the nature of reality but in fact inhibited my full perception of reality. Then I emptied my mind of all thoughts by placing my attention on the natural flow of my breath. As I achieved a serene and clear state of mind and opened myself to receive any communications from the nature spirits, I began to see mental images of various natural objects and places. Visions of mountains, trees, waterfalls, caves, and lakes were clearly displayed in my mind, and I had the impression that these scenes were the homes of the Kami spirits. For a while I enjoyed the Kami's sense of playfulness but then this feeling changed and a sadness began to pervade my being. As I allowed the sadness to flow unhindered through me, I had the impression that the field or presence of the assembled Kami spirits was communicating with my mind. I began to sense that the sadness I was feeling was the sadness that the Earth was experiencing because so many humans have become alienated from the living spirit of nature.
By this time, pilgrims had begun to enter and mill about the courtyard of the shrine. The serenity was disturbed and therefore I decided to go into the woods beyond the temple walls. Exiting through a side gate, I walked into the forest and climbed to the top of a small sacred hill overlooking the temple. As I sat down to meditate, my consciousness was quickly reconnected to the energy and knowingness that had been so vivid in the courtyard a few minutes earlier. For approximately thirty minutes I went into a trance-like state in which I had little awareness of the forest surrounding me. My concentration focused on a vision that began with a tingling sensation, similar to a low-voltage electric current, flowing through my body. This sensation was pleasurable, with a sensuous, almost erotic feeling to it. The tingling current calmed my body and mind, and dispelled my resistance to the reception of visionary information. I then noticed a wave of energy/awareness passing through my mind. Something flowed into me from the ground to form pictures and words. At first they were over in a ‘corner’ of my mind until I noticed them. When I concentrated on these images, they moved from their peripheral location to occupy my inner field of view. All this happened while my eyes were closed
The content of this vision was even more extraordinary than the manner in which it occurred. For several weeks prior to coming to Izumo Taisha, I had been wondering about the purpose of my travels to the power places. I was near the end of my pilgrimage in Japan and had not received directions concerning further travels. Should I return to my business in the United States or continue traveling in Asia? My visionary experience at Izumo Taisha answered these and other questions. I learned that the power places on the Earth are in certain respects similar to the acupuncture points on the human body. The power places are particular geographic locations where a unique energetic dynamic allows for a mutually beneficial relationship between the planet and human beings. Humans may assist in the energy balancing and thereby the healing of the Earth by visiting these places. Humans may also benefit from the various energies radiating from the sites. Given this information, there were three reasons why I would be visiting the power places.
One reason concerned the Earth-healing effect generated by people visiting the power places. This was the first time I learned of the practice of planetary acupuncture whereby a human being with a loving heart may function somewhat like an acupuncture needle for the Earth. My Izumo Taisha vision revealed that large numbers of people around the world would begin to visit the power places for this purpose in the early years of the twenty-first century. Some people would be drawn to a few sites, or perhaps only one, while others would visit dozens in numerous countries. Additionally, a much smaller group of people would be drawn or directed to visit hundreds of power places in particular geographic areas. These people would be Earth healers, their presence at the power places transmitting an essence of love and gratitude to the planet as well as a spark of vital energy that would stimulate the planet's entire energy field.
During my Izumo Taisha visions I was given the revelation that I could serve in this way. Furthermore, I was shown the geographic regions of the world in which I should focus my travels and the order in which I should visit them. The regions where I would be visiting power places, besides Japan and Korea, were Hawaii, the Caribbean, Mexico, western and Mediterranean Europe, Israel, Egypt, India, Southeast Asia, China, Tibet, and Central and South America. As I will discuss later in this chapter, the specific order in which I would visit these regions was as important to my spiritual development as were the regions themselves.
The second reason I was to "travel the pilgrimage routes of the ancient religions" was quite practical and easy to understand. I would be visiting power places on many continents in order to study and photograph them. This material would be compiled into a book identifying the locations of the power places and discussing the benefits of visiting them. This book would assist those people who were attracted to visit the places but did not know where the sites were located or the appropriate response to their attractions.
The third reason for my worldwide journey to the power places was exciting but mysterious. I did not understand the full import of this information until I had traveled far beyond Japan and visited hundreds more sacred sites around the world. The visionary communication indicated that there are many people living today who have accepted what could be called an opportunity, an assignment or a directive, to play teaching, healing, inspirational, and leadership roles during the crisis times at the beginning of the twenty-first century. These assignments had been accepted by the individuals' souls prior to birth. Presently, however, few of these individuals have a clear recollection of their assignments, while the majority have a kind of amnesia. These amnesia-affected individuals have a strong and recurring feeling that their lives have a certain purpose beyond their ordinary activities, yet they do not know what it is. For these people, the power places have two important functions. First, the energy fields of the power places have the capacity to awaken an individual to his or her destiny assignment. In other words, the power places stimulate a re-cognition of our deeper purpose in living. Second, the power places have unique energetic characteristics to assist people in their mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual development, and thereby to empower them to fulfill their life purpose.
Earlier in this chapter I have spoken of my own yearning for a sense of purpose, a meaning and service in my life. My first vision indicated that I should go to Easter Island to "find the answers to my prayers," and on both Easter Island and at Machu Picchu I received directions about making a pilgrimage to ancient sacred places. Traveling to the sacred mountains of Japan, I entered into a passionate love relationship with the Earth. Finally, at Izumo Taisha, I learned how I could assist in nurturing the Earth by continuing my pilgrimage to the power places. Truly, the time I had thus far spent at the power places was awakening me to a realization of my life's purpose. It seemed logical to continue my pilgrimage, for by doing so I would both benefit the Earth and gain a clearer picture of my particular service. I felt no hesitation in doing this, even though it would require me to leave my thriving business and live for some years as a wandering pilgrim. I needed only to return to the U.S. to conduct the necessary research on pilgrimage sites in other parts of the world.
