“Uketamo,” I whisper to myself with diminishing breath. Icy mountain water pierces me as my thin white garments of ritual attire float up in the swirling current. “I shall accept,” I repeat, and slowly, slowly, wade deeper into submersion. Here, within this frigid basin, under the watchful eye of the Yamabushi, I steadily immerse my self into death.
Amidst a relentless cascading waterfall, I cling to a wooden staff to stay upright while inching toward a mossy rock face shrouded by a veil of thundering water, before being thrust back out to the pool from whence I came. I am reborn.
My renewed vigour is immediate, rejuvenated by the defibrillation of the force of water. Deep in the cold beneath the waterfall my mind is hyper-focused on the present moment. It’s a hydraulic baptism in which I give myself over to nature.
This spiritual exercise, the ancient ritual of ascetic Shinto mountain-monks, (Yamabushi,) attracts the curious to don white robes, symbolizing purity and death, hike the lush green trail of Mt Yudono, dotted with wild hydrangeas and cleaved by a rocky river, culminating in the Waterfall Ascetic Training, called takigyo, that leads to an ego-less peace.
Yamabushi aim to overcome self-doubt by enduring extreme physical sensations to quiet the mind. Fire walking, starvation, self-mummification, sleep deprivation, and even being suspended over a cliff, test one’s courage and resolve. During training pilgrims learn how to commune with nature by surrendering to it, and by accepting the nature within one’s self. Their belief is that relinquishing one’s ego and harmonizing with nature is the only way to find peace and cultivate a better world.
There is a Japanese proverb, mizu wa hōen no utsuwa ni shitagau, which means that water takes the shape of its vessel, and that like water, we adapt to our situations. However, in takigyo, the image of this proverb is reversed: we become the vessel, and the waterfall becomes the force that reshapes what is inside of us.
When we stand beneath the waterfall, there is no negotiation; we cannot make the temperature or the force conform to our desires. The cold, weight, sound and pressure of the water dictate the experience, while we must yield to what is happening by breathing, concentrating and letting go of resistance. It is the sacred environment—the water, the cold, the rocks and the forest, as well as the physical challenge—that shapes our self.
Water can change its shape to adapt to its vessel without losing its nature. Similarly, ascetic training and subsequent transformation does not mean we become someone else, rather that we denude ourselves of the layers that prevent us from assuming the shape that the present moment requires. That is an essential part of the Dewa Sanzan idea of rebirth. Though we emerge from the waterfall physically the same as when we entered it, our relationship to our surroundings has changed.
Dewa Sanzan is the collective name of the three sacred mountain peaks in Yamagata—Mt. Gassan, Mt. Haguro and Mt. Yudono. Gassan represents both the past and the afterlife where believers atone. Haguro represents the present and the salvation we currently seek. Yudono represents the future and renewal. Yamabushi journey through each to achieve enlightenment.
Following the waterfall ascetic training, our Yamabushi guide leads us to an area of the mountain where nature seems to melt into a smooth yet ridged textured red rock that embodies feminine energy, dripping with heat. (Specific details must remain secret. Only those who visit are permitted to know what lies there.) We recite prayers to the goddess of hot springs and rebirth and, in a nearby cave, fill a cup with mountain water as an offering to nourish the souls of the dead. At once, I think of my father, and how I would like to provide him a cup of water on his journey, and I think of my son, and all the adventures that await him. Water reflects both our impermanence and the flow of life.
While Mt Yudono represents the future, its ascent is preceded by the 2,446 stone steps to the summit of Mt Haguro. No photo can adequately convey the steep pitch of the stone staircase. The deities of all three mountains are enshrined at the top, so the journey upward is not meant to be easy.
In the valley at the start of the ascent is the five-story pagoda of the Dewa Shrine, a national treasure, which stands amidst giant ancient cedar trees up to 1000 years old. A marvel of architecture, it’s like a wooden jigsaw puzzle without the use of even one single nail to connect the beams and wood-shingled roof. The Yamabushi blows his conch shell to purify the space and repel bad spirits. We follow.
Our stairway lies on the whispering wind. Known symbolically as the birth canal, the climb is laborious. We walk single file. If one pilgrim stops, the others behind must wait. The difficulty is part of the meaning, because physical exertion is intertwined with spiritual transformation. Enlightenment is not something to think about, it demands effort. The seemingly endless repetition is humbling and focuses our minds on the next stone, the next breath, the next step, so when we reach the top and face the Mirror Pond, a place of self-reflection, we see not how we look, but how we are.
After a day of physical, mental, emotional and spiritual transformation, the onsen of volcanic spring water in the shokubo (temple lodging) at Sankoin soothes every aching muscle from my hips to my legs. The intense heat of the water circulates the flow within me.
Comfortably seated, we're treated to a traditional plant-based Shojin Ryori dinner associated with the Yamabushi. Small dishes of mountain ingredients like resveratrol-rich itadori (Japanese knotweed), tofu, bamboo, salmon, soba, tempura-fried yam, green pepper and aubergine, and a luscious ripe melon are simple and nourishing.
The calming aroma of cut-grass and dried-hay from the tatami mats in my private room beckons me to stretch out on my futon and fall soundly asleep, before an early rise for the Goma Fire Ritual, a unique practice offered only at Sankoin.
Beginning at 6:30am, the priest of Sankoin lights a fire using a consecrated hearth in which to burn wooden prayer sticks. The fire represents the wisdom of the Buddha. The prayer sticks represent personal wishes and prayers to purify negative energies and alleviate struggles. We are mesmerized by the chanting and the crackling fire of this purification ceremony that carries spiritual energy and prayers to the deities, and enables us to begin our day spiritually cleansed.
Purity is a larger theme in Yamagata, as its mountains operate as enormous natural water filters. Heavy snow falls deep across the mountains and trickles slowly through forest and stone to emerge as some of Japan's most pristine spring water. There is even a "100 Famous Waters of Yamagata" list in which natural springs are assessed for quality, volume, conservation and natural surroundings.
The watershed and the rivers that flow from the mountains yield a sea of vibrant green rice fields with rolling waves in the breeze. It follows that the most beautiful water cultivates the most delicious rice, which is then used to craft the most elegant sake. It is from that same water that Yamagata produces 70% of all cherries in Japan, as well as premium Dadacha-mame soybeans known as the "king of edamame.” Even the local cattle feed on the high-quality rice and pure mountain meltwater to produce one of the top brands of wagyu in Japan, Yonezawa-gyu, renowned for its trademark fine marbling and sweet fat. The same water that nourishes the spirit of Yamagata becomes the essence of the land and its harvests.
The sacred mountains of Yamagata, ancient forests and verdant fields nourished by snowmelt, reveal the purity of a water cycle that shapes body, spirit and land, in physical transformations, the spirituality of Dewa Sanzan, and in agricultural abundance, without resistance or attachment, for which we can only whisper, Uketamo: I shall accept.