from the YojiroTakita movie "Departures"
When I was in Japan last year I learned that many of the Japanese have relaxed “pick and choose” attitude towards aspects of organized religion.
They have an innate regard for Shintoism and its practices of connecting with the deities that they believe reside in the mountains, rivers, rocks, trees, etc of the natural world. One month after birth babies are taken to a Shinto shrine for a baptism ceremony and gratitude is expressed for a new life.
The Japanese use Christian-like rites for weddings, though many times the “priest” is an employee who dresses us for the occasion.
They like Buddhist ceremonies for the end of life. See the 2008 movie “Departures” about a Japanese out- of- work cellist who finds employment in a funeral home and finds fulfillment in learning the rituals in preparation for burials.
I have a “pick and choose” mentally, myself, for some things and I have to say that I have an appreciation for Buddhist thoughts concerning the hard things in life. After my parents died, Pema Chodron’s “When Things Fall Apart” was a great comfort.
To help with my working as a volunteer in the palliative care units of two hospitals I’m reading “Stay Close and Do Nothing” by Merrill Collett, a practitioner of Zen Buddhism and hospice caregiver. The title says everything. I have tried this approach with the terminally ill; I walk into their rooms and I have no idea who I will meet and what I will say. By creating a space and doing nothing (not having my own agenda) I am taken on some surprising journeys.
On my last shift a few days ago I entered into the room of a dying man. The week before I had sat with him and listened to him as he explained that his daughter was arriving that afternoon from Toronto. He was so excited to be seeing her and his excitement was infectious. He showed me pictures and I hoped that I would have a chance to meet her. By the end of my shift she had still not arrived by the time I had to leave.
When I next came in I was happy to learn that the man was still a patient. I hurried into his room and there he was with his bright-eyed daughter sitting beside him; they both seemed happy as clams as they teased and savoured each other’s company in what they both knew was the last month of his life. I introduced myself and within a few minutes I felt part of the family.
The love that was present in that room was palatable and I ate it up!
In some mysterious way I am being fed in this kind of work.
