The Trials of Growth in Zen

Soko Morinaga’s Struggle to Change
In the essay entitled “My Struggle to Become a Zen Monk” by Soko Morinaga, the author describes his journey from being a student in school to going to the doorstep of Goto Zuigan Roshi, master of Daishuin temple in Kyoto, to finally becoming a Zen monk at Daitokuji monastery. The journey that Soko experiences is one that demands patience, humility and perseverance—but above all it is one that demands conformity to tradition and submission to something higher than himself. It is this submission that helps Soko to overcome the feelings he has towards death and attain peace of mind. This paper will explain why Soko felt the need for a significant change in his life, the steps he took to effect that change, and how that change impacted him and helped him to achieve his goals.
Soko grew up during WWII and was a liberal arts student at the time. He was called to enter into military service at a time right when his parents died. He was forced out of one world that he knew well (academia and family life) and into a world he did not know or like very much—a world where Western powers were exploiting countries in the East and hanging and butchering enemies in Europe. His experiences in the War and immediately after when hyper-inflation hit Japan and his inheritance (family land) was taken away by the government only served to cause him to lose faith in everything. He no longer hand any sense of peace, no will to go on and study more, no desire to be part of the world really at all. He held no sense of anything other than that people are false and manipulative; his main problem, however, was that this sense would not help him to survive: he needed more. He admits that he could have become a criminal and joined a gang—but there was clearly some goodness in him because he chose instead to seek assistance from the Zen monks (even though he doubted their authenticity and wisdom). At least, he hoped they would give him some refuge. In this manner, Soko expressed his need for a significant change in his life. He gradually confessed to having no discipline, to needing experience, to needing a master—someone to follow. Of course, even he himself did not entirely know what this change was that he was seeking, for he entered into Daishuin on false pretenses—lying to Roshi about his trust for him. But eventually he did develop that trust—and more than that: he also developed love for Roshi and refused to ever quit his side, even when Roshi tried to expel him. At that point, Soko had transformed from a vagrant wanderer to a true disciple—and Roshi knew it: master and disciple at that moment wept together out of awareness of the bond that had been effected.
How had it been effected? Through experience. Soko did not trust the old Roshi at first but simply could not tolerate the thought of leaving the monastery so soon after arriving—which is why he lied about the extent to which he trusted the old monk. However, Roshi’s lessons quickly impressed upon Soko’s mind the importance and value of paying attention to one’s surroundings, of seeing goodness in all things. Soko states that the biggest lesson Roshi taught him immediately after Soko swept the floor was that, “Originally, there is no rubbish in either men or things” (Morinaga 17). This teaching is a stark contrast to what Soko had been believing since the War. He had learned to appreciate nothing, to be skeptical of everything, to view the world as a menace that was out to get one. He had no faith, no will, no peace of mind, and no way to make peace with the fact that he would one day die. Roshi began to change all of that, step by step—and the first step was to point out to Soko that men and things were not bad and corrupt by design, that there was some good in all things and that all things could be made whole again with just a little care and attention and discipline. The way that Roshi sifted through the leaves and dirt and rocks that Soko called “rubbish” after sweeping the floor so impressed Soko that the young student immediately saw how important discipline and patience was in life. The rocks went to fill divots left by the rain and the earth went to fill holes in the yard, while the leaves went into sacks to be used for the fire: everything had a purpose and a place—nothing was wasted. Soko was in awe of the lesson the old monk had just taught him—and it was the first of many. His daily experiences with Roshi accumulated more and more so that by the time Soko was ready to head to Daitokuji to become a monk, his entire perception of self and the world had changed. He had begun to realize the value of humility and the power of tenacity.
These two values—humility and tenacity—would prove essential to his gaining admission to the monastery at Daitokuji when finally Soko did leave Roshi. Even though he had not earlier wanted to leave Roshi, once he finally matured and knew that the next step in the total conversion of his life to a discipline (which he had lacked prior) was to become a monk, he saw that he must leave Roshi. He thought that his resolve was great, especially when the old monk tied Soko’s sandals and gave him a purse so that his corpse could be buried—but when he arrived at Daitokuji, his humility and tenacity were put to the test: he was told the monastery was full and that he should leave. He was beaten and scorned and told to get out of there—but for three days he refused to budge. It was bitterly cold and Soko’s limbs were freezing, but he remembered that in spite of what he was feeling (he even confessed to wondering why he didn’t just leave altogether and go find distant familial relations in another part of the country), he knew that humility and tenacity were required of him in order to finally be admitted. He trusted to the process—and sure enough he was finally admitted: the monks saw that he was committed to becoming a monk even in the face of great pressure. The trials did not stop of course but eventually they became easier and Soko attained the peace of mind he had lacked as a former student following the War. He had obtained discipline and his fear and uneasiness towards death was resolved: he had finally become a Zen monk and the structure of this way of life changed the way he thought about all things, himself, the world, life and death included.
In conclusion, Soko Morinaga’s essay “My Struggle to Become a Zen Monk” was really a story about his struggle to change—to change from a young man without friends or family or meaning or purpose or discipline in his life to a capable adult with peace of mind and structure and a place in the world. The significant change that he effected only came about, however, because he was willing to subject himself to new privations that he had never before experienced and to trust in the process of a new kind of education that was actually quite old and traditional. He submitted to the Zen master Roshi even when he inwardly expressed skepticism and merely admitted trust in order to keep from getting thrown out. But soon he saw that Roshi was indeed wise and could teach him something that would allow the young Soko to obtain the peace of mind he desired and effect the real change in his life that he could not otherwise achieve. Soko’s love of Roshi developed rapidly—but even with Roshi, Soko could not stay: in order to fulfill the total change he needed, he had to become a monk—and so off to Daitokuji he went. It was another process, another period that he had to endure—but the point of all his struggles and his re-telling of them was that no good is ever achieved without humility and tenacity and the desire to truly change oneself for the better.

Works Cited
Morinaga, Soko. “My Struggle to Become a Zen Monk.” In Zen: Tradition and
Transition, ed. by Kenneth Kraft. NY: Grove Press, 1988.