The following is a Dharma Talk given by Rev. Kōryu Atsushi at the home of a housebound, bedridden elderly person in 1989. It was then put into essay form and printed as a booklet in 1990 to commemorate the 1100th anniversary of the death of Shinnen, a disciple of Kōbō Daishi. I've tried to stay faithful to the original, but have added some explanatory phrases here and there to make it more accessible to an international audience.

The Goma is more visually striking than many Shingon rituals, but it is, in fact, something like an afterparty where the practitioner visualizes the hearth as the mouth of the deity and pours in additional offerings.

What may surprise even experienced pilgrims, though, is that the Shikoku 88 is not the only Henro–in fact most of the Seto Inland Sea’s islands, large and small, are home to Shima-Henro, “Island Pilgrimages,” the most famous of these being the one on Shodoshima. While seasoned pilgrims will notice many similarities to the Shikoku Pilgrimage, the Shodoshima Henro is an entity unto itself, with its own unique majesty and potency.

Though he's the main deity of just one of the 88 Temples of the Henro (T31, Chikurin-ji), Mañjusrī, or Monju-sama in Japan, is one of the most important deities in Buddhism. Kūkai powerfully invokes the deity in the opening line of his Secret Key to the Heart Sutra: “The sharp sword of Mañjusrī cuts off all mental proliferation.” To put it even more simply, Mañjusrī’s wisdom cuts the bullshit.

Like the Henro temples, the Bekkaku also feature Goeika, temple songs which poetically combine the place and scenery of temples with the experience of pilgrims and the teachings of Buddhism.

The Iroha Uta, attributed to Kobo Daishi Kukai, is one of Japan's most famous poems. Renowned for its use of each character of the Japanese hiragana syllabary, for centuries it was used as a way of ordering the characters, similar to the alphabet. Its lines contain a deep reflection on the Buddhist teaching of impermanence.

A chill bit the tip of my nose as the shadows lengthened, the late afternoon sunlight bathing the red leaves of Mt. Koya in sublime gold. Dressed in the black robe and orange nyoho-e I'd put on at my ordination and stained with sweat during Shido Kegyo training, I was now standing at the threshold of Hoju-in , the venue for Dembo Kanjo . The big event was set for the next day; today all the participants would draw water from a sacred well for use in the ceremony. Kanjo , in