From Justin Stone’s Climb the Joyous Mountain and available on (May 2019)

Who Am I?

Not all religious seekers find Ultimate answers. Some do, some don’t. I’d like to deal with both here. Rabindranath Tagore, the great 20th century poet of India who often wrote in English, expressed bewilderment of those who don’t find answers:

The first day’s sun has asked

At the manifestation of new being –

Who are you?

No answer came.

Year after year went by.

The last sun of the day

The last question utters

On the western seashore

In the silent evening –

Who are you?

He gets no answer.

The question “Who am I?” repeats itself over and over to the introspective mind. If a man has not asked himself this question at some time, and has not even been concerned with the meaning of existence, he has not lived. Like an animal, he has eaten and slept, and perhaps procreated, but he has made no effort to rise to true human status. Zen monks have always tried to penetrate the meaning of birth and death. Where there is birth, there is always death. Is there something unborn that does not die?

To those few fortunate ones who have received their answer, it has not come in words. It is an experience that is not describable, and so cannot be transplanted to another.

Perhaps the greatest saint Japan has known was the 12th century Shinran, persecuted and exiled to remote corners of the islands. Married at a time when monks did not wed, he was laughed at by many, but he eventually found his way in the belief in the saving power of Amida, the Buddha of Infinite Light.

During many years spent in meditation at the Tendai Monastery on the top of Mount Hiei (near Kyoto), Shinran found only despair. This was beautifully described by his grandson:

“Many moons passed as Shinran practiced contemplation on the moon of the three fold truth in the ten stage meditation. And the seasons’ flowers renewed their fragrance many times as he disciplined himself in pondering on the truth of one hundred words with one thousand modes of thusness. Then he reflected on the problem of emancipation and thought, ‘No matter how hard I try to calm the water of meditation, waves of consciousness arise to disturb it. However hard I try to contemplate the moon of mind-nature, clouds of illusion overcast it.’”

This is the description of a dark night of the soul. But eventually Shinran stopped trying, stopped using the power of Shinran, and gave himself up to a greater power: Amida Buddha. Long ago, at a time without beginning, Amida was a bodhisattva, an enlightened being on the way to buddhahood. At that time Amida made a vow to save all sentient beings, no matter how numerous they might be. That vow is still in effect. Giving up the self-power that had failed, Shinran (through his teacher Honen) learned to give way to the other power of Amida. From then to the end of his life, he was serene in the faith that Amida’s vow would surely save him. He died repeating the Nembutsu – the short Namu Amida Butsu (Hail to the Buddha of Infinite Light) – that simple believers say over and over each day, knowing that if they call on Amida and rest secure in his saving power, they will be taken to the Western Paradise. This is called Eko in Japanese, meaning that there is a merit transference from Amida, who endows us with merit power by crushing the egocentric and separative self of man. According to Jodo Shinshu Buddhism, constant repetition of the Nembutsu, said with firm faith, assures one of being reborn under ideal circumstances in the Pure Land, from where it will not be difficult (minus encumbrances) to reach complete Enlightenment.