Tenryu-ji. Norris Brock Johnson
appeared in his imperial carriage amid the clouds then glided into the old compound of Go-Saga’s imperial villa near Turtle Mountain.28 Musō had dreamed of Go-Daigo seated within his imperial carriage as he glided into the compound; yet, rather than draped in his imperial regalia, in the dream Go-Daigo wore the clothing of a Buddhist monk! Go-Daigo died suddenly (August 16, 1339), in Yoshino, shortly after Musō’s pregnant dream. The dream was taken as a sign that the spirit of the emperor longed for the peaceful place important in his childhood.
Takauji of the Ashikaga especially was troubled by the death of Go-Daigo, because of his behavior toward the emperor. Takauji was preoccupied with his fate, with the still-present danger that the spirit of Go-Daigo posed to him.
People believed in ghosts (幽霊, yūrei) and in vengeful “hungry” spirits (餓鬼, gaki). The Record of Ancient Matters “reveals strong traces of a belief that certain deities and the spirits of the dead could lay a curse upon living men … The idea of possession by a vengeful spirit … was very prevalent.”29 In particular, a ghost abiding in the dwelling and habitat of its former life could be tormented by unease. It was desirable to try to put at ease spirits believed abiding in their former residences.
Takauji subsequently beseeched the spirit of Go-Daigo to find peace, and not seek revenge upon him for his treacherous behavior. “He [Takauji] knew that his conduct was reprehensible … He prayed for the mercy of Kannon [a Bodhisattva, a deity of compassion], asking that he should not be forced to suffer in the next world for his offenses in this. Life on earth was a dream.”30 In addition, Takauji thought to make an offering to compensate for his turning against the deceased emperor, conscripting his lands, and appointing himself shōgun. With the dream of Musō, and the solace-seeking behavior of Takauji, people of influence once again turned awareness toward the legendary regions west of Kyōto.
In an initial gesture of atonement, Takauji ordered the release of a number of prisoners, captives in war, as well as the release of a number of his political enemies. Further, Takauji ordered that cherry trees from Yoshino, where Emperor Go-Daigo had lived in exile, be replanted around the ruins of Go-Saga’s old villa at Turtle Mountain where Go-Daigo had lived as a child. Subsequently, the Bodhisattva Jizō (deity protecting travelers, especially children and pregnant females, through the realms of existence as well as saving souls from the torments of hell) came to Takauji in a dream. The Bodhisattva instructed that “thousands of small images [of Jizō] be cast,” intending that each statue “express his compassion for the soul of one man whose death in battle he had caused.”31 At the very least, sixty thousand people were slain during the war between the Northern and Southern Courts. In what we can interpret as an act of compassion, Takauji ordered the casting of a Jizō in commemoration of each life lost.
Still not yet at peace, Takauji sought out the venerable Musō Kokushi at Rinsen-ji, where Musō subsequently counseled Takauji to offer more substantive amends to the spirit of Go-Daigo. There was discussion of Musō’s dream of Go-Daigo entering into Go-Saga’s old imperial villa at Turtle Mountain as well as discussion of Takauji’s dream of Jizō.
Musō and Takauji increasingly became aware of their connection to each other. Both men, through dreams, indeed were connected to the land and landscape around the Mountain of Storms, with the old site of the imperial villa at the piedmont of Turtle Mountain, as well as with (the deceased emperor) Go-Daigo. Both men subsequently were struck by the idea, revealed through dreams, of resurrecting the deserted villa into an offering to Go-Daigo, a temple perhaps, “where the spirit of the emperor could be venerated and laid to rest.”32 Go-Daigo had loved nature, and he had spent much of his childhood on the grounds of the imperial villa at Turtle Mountain. After the reign of Go-Saga, the villa lay in mossy ruin. Buildings sagged with inattention and the grounds were deep brown and green, saturated with shades of neglect. Until the appearance of Ashikaga Takauji and Musō Kokushi, no one had attended to nor cared for the site west of the City of Purple Mountains and Crystal Streams.
In October of 1339, Emperor Kōmyō issued permission for Takauji to begin construction of a temple on the site of the old imperial villa at Turtle Mountain. By imperial decree, the future temple was a chokugan (a temple dedicated to an emperor) to the spirit of Go-Daigo as well as to the spirits of those who died during the war between the Northern and Southern Courts.
Deeply affecting landscapes often are constructed on a foundation of powerful emotions such as anger and love.33 Both Takauji and Musō felt connected to the old imperial villa at Turtle Mountain through a desire for peace, harmony, and compassion. “If one just forgets this self,” Musō wrote, “and rouses the intention to benefit all living beings, a great compassion arises within and imperceptibly unites with Buddha-Mind.”34 Musō felt compassion not only for the spirit of Go-Daigo but also for all those who died in the fighting between the Northern and Southern Courts; indeed, for all forms of being. Placing emphasis on compassion, Musō also sought to honor the spirits of the many animals, horses and oxen mostly, that suffered violent deaths during the war. Takauji, as well, sought peace of mind.
Services commemorating initial construction of the temple were held on January 5, 1339. At this time, a service also was held for Musō to honor his counsel to Takauji and to serve notice that Musō was to become the first abbot of the Buddhist temple. Musō reminded the assembled that, “everything the world contains—grass and trees, bricks and tile, all creatures, all actions and activities — are nothing but manifestations of the Law [the Dharma experienced by Buddha].”35 Musō declared that the temple initially would be a family temple for the Ashikaga, promote the Rinzai school of Zen Buddhism, and function as a place within which Buddhist priests would be trained.
It was the custom at the time for a newly constructed Buddhist temple to have an honorary name (山号, sangō) referencing a venerated mountain to which it was linked. Reikizan (霊亀山, Mountain of the Spirit of the Turtle) was the mountain-name of the new complex, with respect to the long-standing veneration of Kameyama (as well as Ogurayama to the northwest). The formal name (寺号, jigō) of the temple was considered carefully as the name also would embody and participate in the spirit of the temple. The complex initially was named Precious Zen Temple of the Spirit of the Ryakuō Period (霊亀山暦応資聖禅寺, Reikizan Ryakuō Shisei Zenji). Shortly thereafter, though, the name of the complex was changed to Precious Zen Temple of the Heavenly Dragon (天龍資聖禅寺, Tenryū Shisei Zenji). The slight change in name was meant also to commemorate the temple as embodiment of the spirit of a dragon.
The Dragons of Dream
People at the time believed in the reality of dragons. People saw dragons. Dragons had long been associated with growth and fecundity as well as with benevolence and protection. The bones, teeth, and horns of dragons were apothecary treasures. The blood of a dragon was believed to congeal to amber, and the saliva of a dragon was the most potent of perfumes. Dragons were believed capable of transformation in form, and a dragon could be as large or as small as it wished. The appearance of a dragon, either in the life of dreams or in waking life, was a harbinger of good fortune.
The name “Temple of the Heavenly Dragon” accommodated the portentous appearance of dragons appearing in the dreams of Go-Daigo as well as Tadayoshi of the Ashikaga. Before his death, Go-Daigo had a portentous dream of a dragon that came to protect his life. Tadayoshi’s dreams were frequented by benevolent dragons of sky and water.
During the time of violent challenges to his rule, a dragon had appeared to Go-Daigo in a memorable dream: “In 1335, Emperor Go-Daigo had been invited to the house of Dainagon Saionji Kimmune, one of the Fujiwara. This invitation was given with the intention to kill His Majesty, who would have stepped upon a loose board of the floor and dropped down upon a row of swords. Fortunately, the Emperor was saved by the dragon of the pond in the park [Shinsen-in, Sacred Spring Park, a precinct of the Imperial Palace in Kyōto], who, in the night before he intended to go to the fatal house, appeared to him in a dream in the shape of a woman. She said to him: ‘Before you are tigers and wolves, behind you brown and spotted bears. Do not go tomorrow.’ At his question as to who she was, she answered that she lived for many years in the Sacred