To Not be Enlightened – The Zen of Bashō

Just as today, in Bashō’s day there were many people who claimed expertise about things they really didn’t know much about. Bashō was a follower of Zen and it annoyed him that many people at the time pretended to know more about it than they did. He wrote:

稲妻にさとらぬ人の貴さよ
inazuma ni satoranu hito no tattosa yo[1]

one who sees lightning
without becoming enlightened
how admirable!
—Bashō[2]

Kamakura Shrine by Tokuriki Tomikichiro
Kamakura Shrine by Tokuriki Tomikichiro

All of you reading this likely know the stereotypical images of a Zen monk achieving sudden enlightenment (satori) upon something dramatic happening, such as him being slapped, or a bucket falling, or some such. A lightning flash is often used as a symbol of this satori. Bashō is playing off that popular image and attacking those people of his day who would learn a little about Zen or do a little meditation and suddenly start claiming deep knowledge of Zen and enlightenment; while at the same time praising those who don’t feel the need to boast about themselves or spread their own superficial knowledge.

Bashō wasn’t the only one frustrated by this trend. Before this haiku, he quotes a contempt Zen priest who remarked “A shallow knowledge of Zen leads to great harm”. Real Zennies who have followed the discipline for years and have some degree of knowledge and experience typically don’t talk much about it and downplay any profound experience they might have had. This isn’t usually due to modesty or any Zen rule that seeks to keep this knowledge a secret, but rather to avoid being misunderstood by those not studying Zen and to prevent these ideas of Zen being a mysterious art that can lead to enlightenment from spreading.

More generally, this haiku can be seen as praising all who realize their limited-knowledge and don’t go around promoting themselves. It’s very much in line with the statement attributed to Socrates, “All I know is that I know nothing”—or in modern terms, the Dunning-Kruger effect.

Butterflies on the Path with Chiyo-ni

Butterflies are with us all year, or at least for the warmer parts, yet they are most often used as a symbol for spring in haiku. Here Chiyo-ni, the most famous female haiku poet, wrote of them, saying:

蝶々やをなごの道の後や先
chōchō ya onago no michi no ushiro ya saki[1]

butterflies
ahead and behind
on the woman’s path
—Chiyo-ni[2]

Butterfly and Hydrangea by Inuzuka Taisui
Butterfly and Hydrangea by Inuzuka Taisui

Butterflies can have several usages in haiku. As I’ve mentioned a few times previously, they often are used as a shorthand for philosophical musings about the nature of reality and identity, a pointer to Chuang-Tzu and his famous question “Am I a man who dreamed I was a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he is a man?”[3]

At the same time, butterflies could also be used as a symbol for femininity and delicacy, and this is one that female poets like Chiyo-ni used often for this effect, to evoke a sense of lightness, grace, and sensuality.

In this haiku there may be some elements of both. The butterflies fluttering around the woman’s path might be representing femininity, yet at the same time they might also be suggesting a more philosophical reflection on the ephemeral nature of life. Like Chuang-Tzu’s dream, life ends soon, and perhaps we move on to another, changing and moving about just like the butterflies fluttering around.

Either interpretation or both are waiting there for the reader to decide on.


  1. See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

  2. See: a note on translations  ↩

  3. 俄然覺,則蘧蘧然周也。不知周之夢為胡蝶與,胡蝶之夢為周與。周與胡蝶,則必有分矣。
    When he awoke, Chuang Tzu became confused.
    “Am I a Man”, he thought, ”who dreamed that I was a butterfly?
    Or am I butterfly, dreaming that I am a man?
    Perhaps my whole waking life is but a moment in a butterfly’s dream!"
    trans. Richard Zipoli  ↩

Fleeting Beauty of the Cherry Blossoms and Life

The cherry blossoms came and have now almost entirely went. As Charlie Brown might have said, Another Cherry Blossom Season has come and gone. I have thoughts…

fallen already
like a passing dream on a spring night…
cherry blossoms

I wrote this only a day or two after the cherry blossoms reached full bloom. I was taking a time-out from the general hustle and bustle of the cherry blossoms area and escaping into a shrine for some quiet and a bit of space.

In the shrine area, I noticed that the cherry tree near the komainu statue had already lost half its blossoms and they were scattered on the statue. I suppose that tree is positioned just perfectly to be hit by a gust of wind that did the job. Looking at the petals, the above verse came to me.

The second line is a reference to the poem leading off The Tale of the Heike (heike monogatari). The overall theme of the story is impermanence, specifically the impermanence of rule: how one family can rise to power, but that power ends before they know it. This theme is introduced by a poem so famous that every Japanese schoolchild has to memorize it.

祇園精舎の鐘の聲、
諸行無常の響あり。
娑羅雙樹の花の色、
盛者必衰のことわりをあらはす。
おごれる人も久しからず、
唯春の夜の夢のごとし。
たけき者も遂にほろびぬ、
偏に風の前の塵に同じ。

The ring of the bells at Gion temple,
echoes the impermanence of all things.
The color of the sala flowers,
reveals the truth that to flourish is to fall.
The proud do not endure long,
like a passing dream on a spring night.
The mighty fall at last,
like dust in the wind

Translation mine, which is why you see the exact same line that I used in the haiku. 😃

Influenced by Buddhism, many things in Japanese culture point to this acceptance of the transience of life and the embrace of its sad beauty. This idea is summed up by the phrase mono no aware, “The pathos of things”. You can find this idea everywhere in Japan, but probably the cherry blossoms are most often used as the best example of it. Here today, beautiful for a very short time, then gone, scattered to the wind.

Shakespeare famously said of the briefness of life:

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Of course Macbeth was somewhat depressed in that scene,[1] but in some ways this is very much the Western perspective: that this evanescence of life ultimately signifies the pointlessness of it; this might play in to the desire in the West to ignore that things are in fact not static and are changing. The Japanese response to this nihilism might be ichigo ichie (一期一会), literally “one time, one meeting”, but maybe better said as “once in a life”, an idea that every encounter is unique and beautiful, never to be repeated, and therefore treasured. No matter how fleeting something is, it should be cherished. Rather than a shadow signifying nothing, each moment is imbued with profound significance.

Anyway, after enjoying that brief respite in the shrine grounds, I rejoined the crowds enjoying the festivities. Those also would be gone soon, so I wanted to enjoy them as much as I could.


  1. Spoilers: His wife had just died.  ↩

No Mount Fuji For You

First a month or so ago, Kyoto made new restrictions on tourists in the geisha district, now the small town Fujikawaguchiko, near Mount Fuji, is building a barrier to prevent tourists from seeing the mountain from a certain view.

Evidently it has become popular to take a photo of the mountain rising behind a Lawson convenience store. The contrast probably is amusing, I suppose. So the town is building a barrier to prevent this view, hoping that it will cause misbehaving tourists to… suddenly start following the rules.

I can’t imagine this will have much of an effect. The misbehaving tourists will just find other spots to take the photo from and misbehave at.

This makes the second place in a relatively short time trying to fight against a few bad apples. I wonder what the next one will be.

LINK: Japan town to block Mount Fuji view from troublesome tourists

Woman vs Wind

It’s spring, a wonderful time to enjoy the myriad blossoms, especially the beloved cherry blossoms. That’s the highlight. One point, however, that is less than good for many people is the increased wind in this season. Not only does it spread pollen, triggering allergies for many, and colder temperatures every few days, but it also just generally annoys.

A scene similar to one you may have witnessed or even experienced yourself:

春風におさるる美女のいかりかな
harukaze ni osaruru bijo no ikari kana[1]

the spring wind
attacking a beautiful lady—
her rage!
—Kyōtai[2]

Young Woman Carrying an Umbrella in a Gust of Wind by Suzuki Harunobu
“Young Woman Carrying an Umbrella in a Gust of Wind” by Suzuki Harunobu

Maybe you can imagine a young woman with her best makeup on, hair all arranged, wearing her best clothes, going off to some event such as hanami (cherry blossom viewing), but then the wind attacks! She holds up her parasol to fend it off, but the battle leaves her in disarray: hair and clothes a mess.

We can imagine old Kyōtai seated somewhere, perhaps drinking some sake (as people often do at hanami), watching the scene with some amusement.

The spring wind is normally thought of a gentle wind, inviting the birds to sing and the flowers to bud, not to mention spreading their delightful fragrance far and wide. At the same time, the spring wind can be strong and cold. It calls to mind the Japanese saying sankan shion (三寒四温), “three days cold, four days warm”, which is always a pretty good description of the spring weather. The warm days are filled with the more gentle of the winds, but then when the cold rushes back it is brought by a much stronger and harsher wind. It is this second, strong and chilly wind that we might imagine is attacking the young lady in this haiku.

Kyōtai was born a samurai of Owari Province,[3] but later wandered for twenty years before returning to the area and building a hermitage in Nagoya where he devoted himself to haiku.

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