Priest Danjo: The time spent with Zen Master Mori was always pleasant and peaceful, though occasionally events occurred that made me think, “Huh?!”

Zen Master Mori juggled work at a Zen temple in Hiroshima and a temple in Kyoto. As the 25th of each month approached, he would routinely drive himself back to the Kyoto temple. As his disciple, I would help clean his car and check the tire pressure as the 25th drew near.

One time, even after the 25th arrived, the Master showed no sign of returning to Kyoto. Unable to hold back, I said, “Master, it's about time to head back to Kyoto.” He replied firmly, “I can't go back today.” When I asked why, he said, “Because I haven't visualized the journey to Kyoto yet.”

Looking back, Zen Master Mori would always begin sitting meditation two or three days before returning to Kyoto. He would mentally trace the route to the Kyoto temple, and only depart once he could visualize arriving safely. Until he was ninety-five years old, he never once had a traffic accident.

Jakusui: Ah, I see! Is this what the Master meant by ‘connecting with the gods and buddhas’? Connecting with the gods and buddhas, making a request, and when that wish becomes reality, that's the true meaning of ‘it's okay,’ right?

Priest Danjo: Yes, that's correct.

Jakusui: So, when you, Priest drank the mountain water, experienced unprecedented joy, and shared your personal experience of feeling you couldn't return to ordinary social life, that's when zazen began. And when consulted about the water not flowing at SAIKOUZENJI, he gave the crucial advice to 'connect with the gods and buddhas.'

Priest Danjo: When I was training at a temple in Kyoto, I first learned that Zen Master Mori was a very distinguished figure among Zen monks. I felt ashamed. Because Zen Master Mori never spoke about himself at all.

Jakusui: I see. For Zen Master Mori, spending peaceful time with his disciple, who was unaware of things like “he's a great monk” or “he attained enlightenment young,” must have been a warm experience that freed his heart. By the way, please tell us about your memorable encounter with Zen Master Mori and the events surrounding your farewell.

Priest Danjo: Well, I met Zen Master Mori one month before his passing. Knowing his health was failing, I went to the temple to pay my respects before my lecture in America.

He passed away on May 16th. Actually, just two hours before his passing, I had a dream early that morning in my San Francisco hotel. I was sleeping soundly when Zen Master Mori appeared in my dream. He looked like he was in his sixties, still young. In the dream, he was vibrant, full of smiles, and spoke to me.

“Ken, are you doing well?”

“Zen Master Mori, what brings you here?” I asked him.

“Ah, you're doing your best, aren't you? I'm off somewhere.”

“Master, where are you going?”

“Well, never mind. You just keep doing your best,” he said, and then vanished right before my eyes. His voice sounded incredibly youthful, and that impression stayed with me deeply.

I jumped up, thinking, “Oh, it was a dream...” and remembered I was lying in a hotel bed in San Francisco. When I'd last seen him, there hadn't been any sign he was about to pass away. Could this be a message from Zen Master Mori? Thinking this, I called the temple office in Hiroshima.

The temple attendant answered and said, “Zen Master Mori passed away in his room two hours ago.”

I was in America for a zazen retreat at the time and couldn't return immediately. When I did come back, I had the opportunity to chant sutras for the late teacher (Zen Master Mori) at the temple. Standing before his portrait, memories of past events and various experiences came flooding back.

I went to the temple office and asked if there were any of the teacher's personal belongings left. I thought I'd take even just a single item—a kasaya robe or a folding fan—back with me to cherish.

The temple administrator told me, “Nothing remains. Zen Master Mori's will instructed that nothing be left behind. I never heard him say he would leave anything for Priest Danjo.” I replied, “Ah, I see. Well, Zen Master Mori was such a straightforward person, so I suppose he didn't leave anything for me,” but deep down, I felt a lingering thought: “I really wanted something.”