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By Root 178 0

preoccupied with mysticism, despite the mood of the times, which had little use for such interests. For all my exertions, however, I became increasingly aware that I could only approach these esoteric writings from the outside; and though I knew how to circle around what one may call the primordial mystic phenomenon, I was unable to leap over the line which surrounded the mystery like a high wall. Nor could I find exactly what I sought in the extensive literature of mysticism, and, disappointed and discouraged, I gradually came to realize that only the truly detached can understand what is meant by “detachment”, and that only the contemplative, who is completely empty and rid of the self, is ready to “become one” with the “transcendent Deity”. I had realized, therefore, that there is and can be no other way to mysticism than the way of personal experience and suffering, and that, if this premise is lacking, all talk about it is so much empty chatter. But—how does one become a mystic? How attain the state of real, and not just imaginary, detachment? Is there still a way to it even for those who are separated by the abyss of the centuries from the great Masters? For the modern man, who has grown up under totally different conditions? Nowhere did I find anything approaching satisfactory answers to my questions, even though I was told about the stages and stations of a way that promised to lead to the goal. To tread this way, I lacked the precise methodical instructions which might substitute for a Master, at least for part of the journey. But would such instructions, even if there were any, suffice? Is it not more probable that, at best, they only create a readiness to receive something which even the best method cannot provide, and that the mystical experience therefore cannot be induced by any disposition known to man? However I looked at it, I found myself confronted by locked doors, and yet I could not refrain from constantly rattling at the handles. But the longing persisted, and, when it grew weary, the longing for this longing.

When, therefore, I was asked — I had in the meantime become a lecturer at a university— whether I would like to teach philosophy at the University of Tokyo, I welcomed this opportunity of getting to know the country and people of Japan with especial joy, if only because it held out the prospect of my making contact with Buddhism and hence with an introspective practice of mysticism. For this much I had already heard, that there was in Japan a carefully guarded and living tradition of Zen, an art of instruction that had been tested over the centuries, and, most important of all, teachers of Zen astonishingly well versed in the art of spiritual guidance.

Scarcely had I begun to find my way about in the new milieu when I set out to realize my desire. I at once met with embarrassed refusals. Never yet, I was told, had any European seriously concerned himself with Zen, and since Zen repudiated the least trace of “teaching”, it was not to be expected that it would satisfy me “theoretically”. It cost me many wasted hours before I succeeded in making them understand why I wished to devote myself specifically to the non-speculative form of Zen. Thereupon I was informed that it was quite hopeless for a European to attempt to penetrate into this realm of spiritual life — perhaps the strangest which the Far East has to offer — unless he began by learning one of the Japanese arts associated with Zen.

The thought of having to go through a kind of preparatory schooling did not deter me. I felt ready to go to any length if only there were some hope of my getting a bit nearer to Zen; and a roundabout way, however wearisome, seemed better to me than no way at all. But to which of the arts named for this purpose should I subscribe? My wife, after a little hesitation, decided for flower arrangement and painting, while the art of archery seemed more suitable for me, on the — as it later turned out — completely erroneous assumption that my experiences in rifle and pistol shooting would be to my advantage.

I begged