What a Friend We Have in Jizōs 2

From the earliest recorded poem, to the oldest Japanese narrative, in the last scene of the tenth century Taketori monogatari,  Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, Princess Kayuga left behind an elixir of immortality for the emperor, as she returned to her home on the moon. The heartbroken Mikado ordered the potion to be burned at the summit of the mountain closest to heaven, not only hoping that his message would reach the distant princess, but because he couldn’t live forever without her. The word for immortality, fuji, became the name of the mountain, and its kanji character, literally ‘Mountain Abounding with Warriors’, derived from the Emperor's army ascending its symmetrical slopes to carry out his order. The vapor from the burning still rises.

                                      ‘Trailing on the wind,
                                       The smoke from Mount Fuji
                                       Melts into the sky.
                                       So too my thoughts-
                                       Unknown their resting place.’
                                                  Priest Saigyo (1118- 1190)

Shugendō was the combined mystical-spiritual Buddhist-Shinto tradition of pre-Feudal En no Gyoja, a mountain wizard who made night flights to the summit. Experiential awakening comes from the interaction of humanity and nature, centered in a yamabushi mountain ascetic. 
“Like the sense of place of our own Mount Benson.” Robyn said.
“Like what we feel on the slopes of Mount Benson.” I agreed. To Shugendo pilgrims the plains and villages at the foot of Fuji represented this world of mundane concerns; the deep, dark mossy forests on the black lava fields of its middle reaches, the transition to death; and the bare slopes, rarefied air and ethereal views from the summit, enlightenment.
The first successor to his pure Fuji asceticism was Matsudai Shonin, who, in the mid twelfth century, climbed the volcano over a hundred times, and erected a chapel to the Dainichi Cosmic Buddha on the summit. The second would appear in the Warring States period, to help Tokagawa Ieyasu unite the country, through the worship of Fuji as the Godhead pillar of the world.
The mountain did abound with warriors. Ancient samurai used the base as a remote training area, near the town of Gotemba. After 1600, when Edo became the capital, the mountain was visible to travelers on the Tōkaidō Road, and later inspired both Hokusai and Hiroshige to create their unique Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji ukiyo-e woodcuts. 
Fuji has been sacred since antiquity, forbidden to women until the Meiji Era, why Aokigahara became the prime location for suicide, and why Shoko Asahara established his Aum Shinrikyo cult headquarters at the foot of the cone.
The highest mountain in Japan at 12,389 feet, Fuji-san is an active stratovolcano. It last erupted in 1707. A recent increase in magma chamber pressure may lead to an eruption ‘in early 2015 or sooner.’ 
There is a well-known Japanese saying suggesting that anybody would be a fool not to climb Mount Fuji once- but a fool to do so twice. 

                                       ‘O Snail,
                                        Climb Mount Fuji
                                        But slowly, slowly!’
                                               Kobayashi Issa (1763-1828)

The first dream that one has in the New Year is called Hatsuyume. Of the three best things to have in your first dream, the first is Fuji.
Robyn and I were late, because of the perfect beauty outside our window, and the fascinating new experimental bottom sprays we had discovered beyond the pink plastic toilet slippers. We checked out and, under the pink morning sky, on our way out of the grounds, stopped to take in the Zen garden sand trap, green fingers invading grey gravel. The hotel clerk ran after us, to bow again. Beyond the beach below us, Enoshima’s high island cliffs pushed out of the water in Sagami Bay. The Japanese word for blue, ao, is the same as the Japanese word for green. There is no difference. In the first hours of our Kamakura morning, we could clearly see why.



   ‘Each and every master, regardless of the era or the place, heard the     
   call and attained harmony with heaven and earth. There are many    
   paths leading to the top of Mount Fuji, but there is only one summit-       
   love.’
                                                                        Moriheo Useshiba