 |  |  |  |  |
February 2012
Dharma Message
By Rev. Yushi Mukojima, Resident Minister
Dharma Message
By Rev. Yushi Mukojima, Resident Minister
My Grandpa Smell
Because of the winter’s chilly nights, my three-year-old daughter and I have been sleeping in her room for
several weeks. One morning when my daughter woke up, she said to me, “You and Mom smell different.”
When I asked her how our smells are different, she answered with a big smile, “Mommy smells nice like
shampoo, but Daddy’s smell is the same as Grandpa’s!”
When my parents visited us here in August of last year, my father shared Kurumi’s bed every night, so she
remembered the smell of her grandfather. It may sound like a heartwarming story on the surface, but her
casual remark that my father and I smell the same became a big problem for me.
I am very sensitive to my father’s smell. When I was little, on cold winter mornings, I used to get into my
parents’ warm bed and enjoy falling asleep again. But as soon as I got into their bed, I sometimes had a fit
of coughing because of the scent of my mother’s soap mixed with my father’s distinctive smell. As a child, I
wondered why my father smelled different. When I think about it now, I realize this musk is particular to the
aged and middle-aged.
I definitely don’t have a prejudice against such natural odors, but prior to my daughter’s innocent
comment I also had absolutely no reason to associate myself with being old or even middle aged. But when
Kurumi said that my father and I smell alike, I was deeply shocked by her observation. It told me that I am
growing old and I found this realization sad and painful.
When I told my wife these thoughts, she said, “Recently, whenever I wake you up, I get this longing for my
dad because you smell just like him.” But she also added gently, “You will be 40 this year, so it is very natural.”
Yet, told by my daughter that I smell like her grandpa and by my wife that I smell like her father, I was just
too stunned to accept the reality that I am leaving my youth behind.
I became so preoccupied by their remarks that they distracted me from concentrating on anything else
for a few days. I moped around in a depression. Finally my wife couldn’t stand my behavior any longer and
admonished me, “You always tell others proudly in your Dharma Talk to accept everything just as it is, but
you yourself can’t accept reality at all. I have always heard you say that Buddhism teaches us to treasure
each moment while living to the fullest.”
I thought that I understood more than anyone else around me that life means everyone gets old. But
when it was pointed out to me that I now have an “old” smell which I’d never associated myself with, I
simply couldn’t accept the thought of aging. Worse, I made a sorry display of myself, wast-ing each day
with a sigh. How shameful!
Certainly, as my wife says, to live life is to treasure the present time and each moment. To live life doesn’t
mean to live tomorrow or one year in the future, but to live now, in this moment. If we have a dream for the
future, it is most important to think seriously about what we should do from this moment on to realize our
dream. Buddhism is a true teaching which shows us how to live now.
Although I like to assume that I understand this most important teaching, I have learned once again
through this recent experience how difficult it is to live truly valuing each day.
This month, I would like to share with you a very meaningful story about a Zen master, Ikkyu. Ikkyu was a
very famous Zen priest, the resi-dent priest of the Daitoku Temple in Kyoto.
One day, when Ikkyu set off to a member’s house to conduct a me-morial service, one of his disciples
followed closely behind, carefully car-rying his master’s baggage. After a while, they saw an eel restaurant
ahead of them. The savory fragrance of eel being grilled wafted in the air.
The moment they passed the restaurant, Ikkyu said, “Wow, it smells so delicious!” When his disciple heard
these words from Ikkyu, he couldn’t hide his surprise. Zen priests were completely forbidden to eat bloody
things like eel.
The disciple sincerely respected his master as one who serves Buddha. But he began to wonder if the
reason his master had said loudly, “It smells delicious!” was to discreetly signal to him, “You must get some
secretly for me later…” But the disciple knew if he went home with grilled eel because he had
misinterpreted his master’s comment, he would surely be scolded severely. So the poor disciple was
completely at a loss. What to do?
All that day, although he continued to assist his master, the disciple’s mind was full of the eel. Even when
they arrived at the member’s house, he was thinking only about whether he should buy eel or not. This
preoc-cupied him during the Sutra chanting and even his master’s Dharma Talk.
That evening, when the disciple was preparing supper for Ikkyu, he dared to ask, “Master, today when we
passed the eel restaurant, you said something. Do you remember?”
Ikkyu said, “Did I say something?”
The disciple answered honestly, “Yes, you said, ‘Wow, it smells so delicious!’ Since then I have been
thinking about it but I still don’t under-stand what you meant. I’ve been worrying if you meant I should buy
eel for you.”
Ikkyu then admonished him. “Are you still hanging onto that eel? I already discarded it in front of the
restaurant!” After that, he said, “You must be really tired because you have thought too hard throughout
the day.”
This is my favorite story about Ikkyu. Do you understand why Ikkyu admonished his disciple like this?
When the disciple heard his master say, “It smells delicious!” in front of the eel restaurant, he continued to
think about the eel all day long. I do this often myself, worrying over the casual remarks of members or
friends. I get preoccupied by these worries and can’t turn my attention to other things. When I told by my
wife and daughter that I smell “old,” I was actually depressed for a few days. However, as we think or worry
about such trivial things, a precious day passes all too soon. Zen master Ikkyu teaches us that if we act
repeatedly in this manner, there is no mending our life.
Ikkyu told the disciple, “When I pass the eel restaurant, I breathe in fra-grance of the grilled eel, thinking
that it smells good. When I pass the flower shop, I am deeply moved by the beauty of flowers, remarking
that flowers are so elegant. When I pass the house from which I hear koto music, I calm my mind thinking
what a marvelous sound it is. In this way, I live my life to the fullest, enjoying everything just as it is at each
moment.
“Today, because we happened to pass an eel restaurant, I said, ‘It smells delicious!’ Yet because you
were confused by my words and spent time neglecting other things, you must realize that you didn’t fully
live to-day.”
What a precious truth this is. Certainly, if we are swayed by something and can only think about that one
thing, even if we manage to do anything else, it is done absent-mindedly and thus a waste of time.
Therefore, to live as Buddhism teaches means to try to do our best to enjoy, learn, and be impressed with all
our heart now, at this moment, while being grateful for the life we have received.
Although I am telling you this sincerely, I myself don’t make each day and each moment a full one. I tend
to become distracted. When studying or working, I think idly about playing. On the other hand, when I am
trying to relax, I start worrying over the preparation of my Dharma Talk for Sunday Service or Study Class. To
live without being able to devote oneself wholly to enjoying each moment is really tedious and stressful.
Several years ago, during a casual conversation with Bishop Ogui, he made several suggestions to me:
“When away from work, you should forget the Sunday Service and enjoy playing. But when it is time to
study, you should concentrate your attention to it. There is a beautiful ocean in San Diego. Stretch yourself
out on the beach and look up at the vast sky without thinking about anything. The hint of the Dharma Talk
will flash into your mind unexpectedly. We can concentrate deeply on our work because we play very hard.
It is the worst thing to leave everything half done.” His meaningful words settled deeply into my mind.
Everyone has had the experience of being unable to truly appreciate each day because we have been
distracted by something. But if our days pass as a series of distractions, we will live an empty and
meaningless life. We won’t get anywhere if we cling to past glories, are haunted by past faults or bad
memories, or if we are anxious about our future. We must realize that it is really important to enjoy and lean
greatly on each day. We must try our best to live fully our brilliant life in this very moment.
If having a grandfather smell is part of my ever changing life, it is em-barrassing to worry about it too
much. After gratefully accepting this gift, I should also like to devote myself to living with strength and joy
each day like my father who sincerely rejoices in the Nembutsu.
In Gassho.
several weeks. One morning when my daughter woke up, she said to me, “You and Mom smell different.”
When I asked her how our smells are different, she answered with a big smile, “Mommy smells nice like
shampoo, but Daddy’s smell is the same as Grandpa’s!”
When my parents visited us here in August of last year, my father shared Kurumi’s bed every night, so she
remembered the smell of her grandfather. It may sound like a heartwarming story on the surface, but her
casual remark that my father and I smell the same became a big problem for me.
I am very sensitive to my father’s smell. When I was little, on cold winter mornings, I used to get into my
parents’ warm bed and enjoy falling asleep again. But as soon as I got into their bed, I sometimes had a fit
of coughing because of the scent of my mother’s soap mixed with my father’s distinctive smell. As a child, I
wondered why my father smelled different. When I think about it now, I realize this musk is particular to the
aged and middle-aged.
I definitely don’t have a prejudice against such natural odors, but prior to my daughter’s innocent
comment I also had absolutely no reason to associate myself with being old or even middle aged. But when
Kurumi said that my father and I smell alike, I was deeply shocked by her observation. It told me that I am
growing old and I found this realization sad and painful.
When I told my wife these thoughts, she said, “Recently, whenever I wake you up, I get this longing for my
dad because you smell just like him.” But she also added gently, “You will be 40 this year, so it is very natural.”
Yet, told by my daughter that I smell like her grandpa and by my wife that I smell like her father, I was just
too stunned to accept the reality that I am leaving my youth behind.
I became so preoccupied by their remarks that they distracted me from concentrating on anything else
for a few days. I moped around in a depression. Finally my wife couldn’t stand my behavior any longer and
admonished me, “You always tell others proudly in your Dharma Talk to accept everything just as it is, but
you yourself can’t accept reality at all. I have always heard you say that Buddhism teaches us to treasure
each moment while living to the fullest.”
I thought that I understood more than anyone else around me that life means everyone gets old. But
when it was pointed out to me that I now have an “old” smell which I’d never associated myself with, I
simply couldn’t accept the thought of aging. Worse, I made a sorry display of myself, wast-ing each day
with a sigh. How shameful!
Certainly, as my wife says, to live life is to treasure the present time and each moment. To live life doesn’t
mean to live tomorrow or one year in the future, but to live now, in this moment. If we have a dream for the
future, it is most important to think seriously about what we should do from this moment on to realize our
dream. Buddhism is a true teaching which shows us how to live now.
Although I like to assume that I understand this most important teaching, I have learned once again
through this recent experience how difficult it is to live truly valuing each day.
This month, I would like to share with you a very meaningful story about a Zen master, Ikkyu. Ikkyu was a
very famous Zen priest, the resi-dent priest of the Daitoku Temple in Kyoto.
One day, when Ikkyu set off to a member’s house to conduct a me-morial service, one of his disciples
followed closely behind, carefully car-rying his master’s baggage. After a while, they saw an eel restaurant
ahead of them. The savory fragrance of eel being grilled wafted in the air.
The moment they passed the restaurant, Ikkyu said, “Wow, it smells so delicious!” When his disciple heard
these words from Ikkyu, he couldn’t hide his surprise. Zen priests were completely forbidden to eat bloody
things like eel.
The disciple sincerely respected his master as one who serves Buddha. But he began to wonder if the
reason his master had said loudly, “It smells delicious!” was to discreetly signal to him, “You must get some
secretly for me later…” But the disciple knew if he went home with grilled eel because he had
misinterpreted his master’s comment, he would surely be scolded severely. So the poor disciple was
completely at a loss. What to do?
All that day, although he continued to assist his master, the disciple’s mind was full of the eel. Even when
they arrived at the member’s house, he was thinking only about whether he should buy eel or not. This
preoc-cupied him during the Sutra chanting and even his master’s Dharma Talk.
That evening, when the disciple was preparing supper for Ikkyu, he dared to ask, “Master, today when we
passed the eel restaurant, you said something. Do you remember?”
Ikkyu said, “Did I say something?”
The disciple answered honestly, “Yes, you said, ‘Wow, it smells so delicious!’ Since then I have been
thinking about it but I still don’t under-stand what you meant. I’ve been worrying if you meant I should buy
eel for you.”
Ikkyu then admonished him. “Are you still hanging onto that eel? I already discarded it in front of the
restaurant!” After that, he said, “You must be really tired because you have thought too hard throughout
the day.”
This is my favorite story about Ikkyu. Do you understand why Ikkyu admonished his disciple like this?
When the disciple heard his master say, “It smells delicious!” in front of the eel restaurant, he continued to
think about the eel all day long. I do this often myself, worrying over the casual remarks of members or
friends. I get preoccupied by these worries and can’t turn my attention to other things. When I told by my
wife and daughter that I smell “old,” I was actually depressed for a few days. However, as we think or worry
about such trivial things, a precious day passes all too soon. Zen master Ikkyu teaches us that if we act
repeatedly in this manner, there is no mending our life.
Ikkyu told the disciple, “When I pass the eel restaurant, I breathe in fra-grance of the grilled eel, thinking
that it smells good. When I pass the flower shop, I am deeply moved by the beauty of flowers, remarking
that flowers are so elegant. When I pass the house from which I hear koto music, I calm my mind thinking
what a marvelous sound it is. In this way, I live my life to the fullest, enjoying everything just as it is at each
moment.
“Today, because we happened to pass an eel restaurant, I said, ‘It smells delicious!’ Yet because you
were confused by my words and spent time neglecting other things, you must realize that you didn’t fully
live to-day.”
What a precious truth this is. Certainly, if we are swayed by something and can only think about that one
thing, even if we manage to do anything else, it is done absent-mindedly and thus a waste of time.
Therefore, to live as Buddhism teaches means to try to do our best to enjoy, learn, and be impressed with all
our heart now, at this moment, while being grateful for the life we have received.
Although I am telling you this sincerely, I myself don’t make each day and each moment a full one. I tend
to become distracted. When studying or working, I think idly about playing. On the other hand, when I am
trying to relax, I start worrying over the preparation of my Dharma Talk for Sunday Service or Study Class. To
live without being able to devote oneself wholly to enjoying each moment is really tedious and stressful.
Several years ago, during a casual conversation with Bishop Ogui, he made several suggestions to me:
“When away from work, you should forget the Sunday Service and enjoy playing. But when it is time to
study, you should concentrate your attention to it. There is a beautiful ocean in San Diego. Stretch yourself
out on the beach and look up at the vast sky without thinking about anything. The hint of the Dharma Talk
will flash into your mind unexpectedly. We can concentrate deeply on our work because we play very hard.
It is the worst thing to leave everything half done.” His meaningful words settled deeply into my mind.
Everyone has had the experience of being unable to truly appreciate each day because we have been
distracted by something. But if our days pass as a series of distractions, we will live an empty and
meaningless life. We won’t get anywhere if we cling to past glories, are haunted by past faults or bad
memories, or if we are anxious about our future. We must realize that it is really important to enjoy and lean
greatly on each day. We must try our best to live fully our brilliant life in this very moment.
If having a grandfather smell is part of my ever changing life, it is em-barrassing to worry about it too
much. After gratefully accepting this gift, I should also like to devote myself to living with strength and joy
each day like my father who sincerely rejoices in the Nembutsu.
In Gassho.