On the way back, I decided to walk down and introduce myself as a Scots shaman. The drummer grinned broadly and announced she was a Korean shaman, and that this was a special ritual to call down the gods for spirit possession. Another morning, with winter frost on the ground, I watched as a young man performed the austere purification ritual under the icy cascade of the Biwataki waterfall. Living in Japan constantly reinforces my perception that the mysterious and the magical shimmer at the edge of our ordinary existence. The extraordinary or the supernatural is within easy reach.
When I began looking into the supernatural, I had not planned to write a book, and the proposal from Tuttle was both timely and welcome. On the other hand, I found that writing a book is a major undertaking that requires the help of many people, all of whom I am unable to name. I give especial thanks to Abe Yukio for his patience and translations; to Hans Laetz for his generous search for materials in America; to Matsufuji Tetsuo for his historical insights and help with photographs and meetings; to Hayashibara Ken and Mohammad Raees for revealing meetings and wonderful talks; to Tsunoda Yoshisue and other MITI people for showing me the worlds of ki ko and aikido; and last, but not least, to Nakamura Akira—also known by his monk’s name, Takuho—for his splendid imagination and sumi-e skills.
And now a word about my personal history. The oldest of five children, I am the product of the coming-together of two very different cultures. I was born in jakarta, on the Indonesian island of Java, to an Indonesian mother and Scots father. When I was four years old we returned to live in Scotland, where tales of Scottish ghosts and Indonesian demons became part of our family lore; thinking about the supernatural was natural. This background, perhaps, has bequeathed to me an abiding curiosity and adaptability. In this next step of my life, I am in Nishi Hachioji running QRQ, a healing center, and creating a worldwide network of healers, alternative thinkers, and futurists. Somehow, for me, the supernatural, superpower, ki, the mystic search, strange coincidences, and unlikely happenings have all become part of the same, and for me essential, journey.
For the reader unfamiliar with Japan’s supernatural, this book should provide a preliminary introduction to the shadowy world that lies behind Tokyo’s hard, commercial dazzle. There may be readers who are disappointed that I did not include more, but to cover all was not my intent. As an exploratory journey into otherworldly things in Japan, this book is meant to offer a starting point. I hope readers will enjoy reading its pages as much as I have enjoyed writing them.
Supernatural and Mysterious
Japan
CHAPTER ONE
In Search of the Supernatural
It is an eerie place. A barren moonscape of jagged rocks and no trees. Bubbling sulfur hot springs, some yellow, some blood-red, release the stink of rotten eggs into the gloomy air. Here and there, wisps of steam rise from cracks in stone that can be icy or hot to the touch. A short walk away, at the crater’s center, a stretch of water known as Lake Usori gleams dark and still. Perhaps it is mere fancy, but standing on the shore, aptly called the “shore of paradise,” the feeling is that if one were to set sail for the other side, there would be no return. In this murky water only one species of fish, a type of dace, can survive the acidic content. All around, the gray desolation, broken only by a few, hardy rhododendron bushes, could be a stage prop for an imagined scene from hell, or the most likely place for lost spirits to wander.
Such is the landscape of Mount Osore, a forbidding caldera (its name means “Dread”) located near the tip of the axe-shaped shimokita Peninsula in Aomori Prefecture, part of Japan’s northern Tohoku region. Long considered sacred, it is supposedly a spot where the living and the dead can meet. In local idiom, those who have died have “gone to the mountain,” and it is at this crater that contact can once again be made with family members who have long since left the human world. Today, this supernatural connection takes place during a special festival held twice a year. The main event is the summer Osorezan Jizo Festival, held in Mutsu City, from July 20–24, with a second festival held from October 9–11. At these times, Mount Osore is lit by some forty lanterns, which flicker ghostlike through the night.
People anxious to communicate with the spirits of dead relatives head here from all over Japan to consult with the area’s shamanistic mediums, traditionally blind, old women known as itako. Usually a girl novice enters itako training before her first menstruation. She then spends several years learning chants, prayers, and a form of fortunetelling. Once she completes the ritual known as kamitsuke, in which she goes into a trance, she is believed to have entered a holy marriage, shinkon, and is thereafter qualified to become an independent practitioner. At the July festival especially, many itako gather at Mount Osore’s main gate to perform for visitors as mediums in an activity called kuchiyose, or speaking in the voice of the dead.
Reasons why people come to this supernatural setting are numerous: a yearning tor remembrance, comfort from grief, psychological problems, or simply a desire for advice or reassurance. When she is given specific information such as a name, the medium begins keening in a singsong voice to initiate the trance that can transport her to limbo, where she will search for the designated soul and possibly bring back a message. Sometimes her voice abruptly changes, or her pattern of moving shifts, indicating that spirit contact has been made and a message is coming through. Unfortunately, any communications from the spirit world are relayed in a northern dialed so thick that even natives of this area have difficulty understanding. Nevertheless, many people leave Mount Osore satisfied that they have indeed reached the spirits of, say, a dead spouses or children.
What mysteries might lie across the water from Mount “shore of paradise”? (Photo courtesy of Aomori Prefectural Government)
Not that all requests are successful, of course. Some visitors, for instance, lose courage at the last moment and instead of calling up souls of dead people whom they knew personally, escape by asking about some well-known Japanese politician instead. One man reportedly asked about Marilyn Monroe, to whom he had no relation at all. Given the mystery of the afterlife, perhaps people feel it’s safer that way.
When the hectic festivals are over, the itako return to their village homes, where they continue to be quietly consulted throughout the year on tasks ranging from calling down household gods (families in this region have personal household gods), to healing the sick. If a person falls ill, an itako, as shaman, can attempt to identify the spirit that is causing the sickness. If she is successful, she rids the body of the intruder, thus curing the patient of the disease.
But shamanic traditions and ancient folk beliefs are not the only religions evident at this centuries-old holy spot. Mount Osore is also home to the Entsuji temple, established in 845, and now run by the Soto sect of Zen Buddhism. This major Zen discipline was founded in Japan by Dogen (1200–53) after his return from China in 1227. The temple buildings are dispersed among the sulfur springs and rock outcrops, and there are also wooden bathhouses, free for anyone to use.
Buddhist influence shows in the numerous Jizo (one of the Bodhisattva) statues encountered between the main temple buildings and Lake Usori. Jizo is the guardian deity of children, so when the summer visitor season ends, his statues are typically covered with offerings of infant-sized clothing, as well as food, drink, and small toys. These gifts are meant to aid him in taking care of children who have died and are struggling to reach the next world. One of his jobs is to make nightly rounds of the rocky riverbed which lies between this world and the next, a stretch of land known as the Sai no Kawara. As he walks around
