Adventures in Siddham Script on the Interwebs

If you were wondering where I’ve been lately, my free time has been used up on a small side project that became an interesting challenge.

A couple years ago, I wrote this blog post about the Thirteen Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, including the mantras recited for funerary practices for the deceased in Japan. At the time, I posted the Japanese version of the mantras, which is based on Sanskrit, but not quite pronounced the same way. It’s like the way English speakers frequently mispronounce Latin because it’s been filtered through centuries of sound changes, history, etc.

But I digress.

I always regretted I wrote that page without including the Siddham-script version of the mantras though. But back then, I didn’t know enough Siddham to do that, and there’s not enough information online to find examples. A few years ago I picked up a book in Japanese about the Siddham script.

The Siddham script of Sanskrit is frequently used in Japanese-Buddhism, especially the esoteric traditions (Shingon and Tendai), even though it has long since been replaced in mother India. Thus, it is like a snapshot in time in the Buddhist tradition: a fascinating example of the fusion of Indian culture with Japanese Buddhism filtered through the Silk Road and Chinese history.

Here is a page from my pilgrimage book I think from Sanjusangendo in 2023:

In the center, in red is the syllable hrīḥ: 𑖮𑖿𑖨𑖱𑖾

This single letter 𑖮𑖿𑖨𑖱𑖾 actually comprises of five parts:1

  1. The Siddham-Sanskrit letter “ha” as its base.
  2. A “virama” to change “ha” to just “h” (drop the implicit “a” sound).
  3. The Siddham letter “ra”.
  4. Change the vowel from default “a” to “ī” (long “I” sound), and finally
  5. A breathy ending sound called an “anusvara”. In Siddham this is the double-dots on the right hand side. Sanskrit nouns often have this sound.

The book focuses on Siddham calligraphy for the esoteric-Buddhist traditions, and teaches you how to write it with brush and ink (i.e. Japanese calligraphy). Writing with pen and brush is one thing, but typing Siddham on a blog (like I was trying to do in the article above) online is actually quite difficult. Why? There is no native keyboard for Siddham. So, instead, you have to use Unicode blocks. For the example letter above, you need five separate Unicode blocks to make this work:

  1. The base letter “ha” : 𑖣
  2. A “virama” to change “ha” to just “h” : 𑖿
  3. The Siddham letter “ra” : 𑖨
  4. Add the vowel “ī” (long “I” sound) : 𑖱
  5. A breathy ending sound called an “anusvara” : 𑖾

So, if you edit the HTML code directly, put these five code blocks in this order, you will get 𑖮𑖿𑖨𑖱𑖾.

Now, try to do that for a lengthy mantra such as this one for the Medicine Buddha: 𑖄𑖼 𑖮𑖲𑖨𑖲𑖮𑖲𑖨𑖲𑖓 𑖜𑖿𑖚𑖯𑖩𑖰 𑖦𑖯𑖝𑖒𑖿𑖐𑖰 𑖭𑖿𑖪𑖯𑖮𑖯𑗃 or Oṃ huru huru caṇḍāli mātaṅgi svāhā. It took about 30 minutes to type all this out, based on the description in the book, and me carefully deconstructing each letter to figure what the Unicode code blocks were needed.

But, at last, I updated the Thirteen Buddhas blog post and added the missing Siddham-script mantras.

It was a pain in the neck, but I am happy to finally understand the process, and I learned a lot about Siddham script in the process.

So, that’s what I spent my free time this week doing.

P.S. I also updated the Mantra of Light post similarly.

P.P.S. Title is a joke based on the 1980’s movie Adventures in Babysitting.

“I am old, Gandalf. I don’t look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts….

J.R.R. Tolkien, Fellowship of the Rings

1 This is true with many other Indian-language scripts even to present day: they are “abugida” scripts where the vowel is implied, but then modified for certain vowels.

World Weariness

There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west and my spirit is crying for leaving.

Led Zeppelin, “Stairway to Heaven”

There comes a day for all of us when we world weighs really heavily on our hearts. We become weary, everything feels grey, or pointless.

…and lo! she was shrunken: a slender elf-woman, clad in simple white, whose gentle voice was soft and sad. ‘I pass the test’, she said. ‘I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel’.

J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

In my opinion, this melancholy is not something like clinical, medical depression. It is a pain that comes from seeing the cold, brutality of the world, the endless cycle of greed, violence, injustice, and ill-will, and the fleeting moments of joy that are soon gone. The shadow of life weighs down the heart, and it’s hard not to feel sad.

“The Shores of Valinor” by Ted Nasmith

This is why, I think, the Pure Land of Amida Buddha is such a vital part of the Buddhist tradition. Regardless of how you interpret it, the Pure Land represents something entirely different from the world we slog through: peace, goodwill, light, and so on. The Dharma of the Buddha is embodied in the many facets of the Pure Land:

“Moreover Shāriputra, in this country there are always rare and wonderful varicolored birds: white cranes, peacocks, parrots, and egrets, kalavinkas, and two-headed birds. In the six periods of the day and night the flocks of birds sing forth harmonious and elegant sounds; their clear and joyful sounds proclaim the five roots, the five powers, the seven bodhi shares, the eight sagely way shares, and dharmas such as these. When living beings of this land hear these sounds, they are altogether mindful of the Buddha, mindful of the Dharma, and mindful of the Sangha.

The Amitabha Sutra, translation by City of 10,000 Buddhas

As Shan-dao the 8th-century Chinese-Buddhist monk once wrote, the Pure Land and Amida Buddha call to us, and bring us away from the pains of this world. In the same way, the Parable of the Burning House in the Lotus Sutra shows Shakyamuni Buddha doing the same thing. The Buddhas have stepped out of the “burning house” into the cool safety of the forest, and call us to do the same.

How exactly one does this is up to the follower, but having a sense of direction, as embodied by the Pure Land that resides in the West is vital.

When the Elves in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-Earth became weary, they want went West across the sea. In the same way, the Buddha Dharma offers us a similar refuge if we choose to take it.

Namu Amida Butsu
Namu Shakamuni Butsu

The Future

T’POL: Neither of our species is what it was a million years ago, nor what it’ll become in the future. Life is change.

Star Trek: Enterprise, “Terra Prime” (s4:ep21)

One of my fondest memories in recent years was visiting the Museum of Natural History in Victoria, British Columbia, and watching the documentary about the geologic history of Antarctica.

There’s something strangely reassuring knowing that in the vast span of time, life will go on, as it adapts to changes on the ground one way or another. Of course, I won’t be alive to see it. Yet, knowing that life always finds a way, and that the problems of today will be ancient history in the future helps put things in perspective for me.

In the same way, it is also strangely reassuring to know that while we homo sapiens (humans) carry many instinctive throwbacks, and primitive behaviors, this is not always going to be the case. Some very distant future, far beyond myself and my descendants, there will be humans who will look and think differently. They will look at us as something curious.

I think this is also why so many of us are Star Trek fans too: that even a few centuries from now, society may be radically transformed in a way that replaces greed and profit for knowledge and exploration, peace replacing war, paranoia with openness and so on. Up until the 18th and 19th centuries, monarchies were just a default way of running a society. The “Divine Right of Kings” was just assumed by countless people, even if they hated it, but now seems backwards and antiquated. There are very few absolute monarchies now.

So, while our current society seems like something inevitable, it’s not. We can’t see the future, but the forces of history are already in motion and may surprise us someday (or maybe surprise our descendants) and people will organize societies that we can’t anticipate.

Time will tell, but as geologic history shows, nothing is static in the end.

I Finally Like Matcha

Matcha tea and biscuits for me

Ever since I was a college student in my twenties, I drank coffee heavily. In my youth, I drank a lot of Coca-Cola (now I very rarely drink it… too sweet), but when I met my future wife,1 she convinced me to try coffee and since we were living in sin near a Starbucks, I would go there every morning. They even knew me by name after a while.

But coffee is expensive. Espresso is fantastic, but costs money (especially now thanks to Climate Change), and making coffee at home takes time and effort, and money to purchase decent beans.

So, I have tried to cut back on coffee, but I can never sustain the reduction in caffeine for very long. Sooner or later, the demands of work made me drink again.

I tried to switch to tea, but I never quite caught on to the flavor. Green tea was always too bitter,2 and while I do like Oolong tea, it is hard on the stomach. In fact, for years I had terrible heart burn and acid reflux. Sometimes it was so bad I had to vomit.

It turns out my particular problem was never acidity in my drinks but gallstones, which nearly killed me two years ago when my pancreas had become severely infected by the stones.

But now that I have no gall bladder, my acid reflux totally stopped, and I’ve been gradually trying foods and drinks that I was previously afraid to try. Matcha is one of them.

My firstborn loves matcha, and drinks it constantly. She won’t drink coffee much, though Ireland does have some excellent coffee shops, but she does drink matcha all the time. She always encourages me to try, but for various reasons I hesitated. However, once again, I wanted to reduce my dependency on coffee, so my wife got me some basic matcha tea bags from Japanese brand Ito En,3 and I fell in love immediately.

I read a fascinating article recently about how green tea and matcha had different caffeine levels (matcha > green tea), but also matcha is chemically different than coffee, so the caffeine is absorbed differently. The gist is that you get a smoother caffeine buzz than coffee, and other chemicals in matcha tend to promote calm and relaxation. I can see why Eisai, founder of Rinzai Zen, (reputedly) brought green tea to Japan in the first place.4

That said, I still love my morning coffee. But instead of drinking 2-4 cups a day, I started drinking matcha instead after one cup of coffee. I found the transition pretty easy after the first day or two. Plus, I discovered that matcha pairs very nicely with McVittie’s biscuits from England. which my daughter had brought back from Dublin on holiday.

Anyhow, if you haven’t tried matcha, definitely try it.

1 Married as of 22 years last month.

2 A long time ago, I studied abroad in Hanoi, Vietnam, and I remember that the green tea was so strong and bitter I couldn’t drink it. Even at my in-laws house in Japan, it was often too strong (though not Vietnam strong). My taste buds have adapted over time, but as a Westerner, I have my limits.

3 I won’t buy from Amazon, so we either buy locally in grocery stores, or online from Ito En directly.

4 Matcha as “shade-grown tea” didn’t emerge until centuries later. Green tea was imported in the more traditional form, which has less caffeine, but probably was the first source of caffeine to exist in Japan at that time.

The Goma Fire Ritual

My family and I visit a certain Shingon-sect Buddhist temple in the area for New Years tradition, and also for Setsubun rituals (namely mamemaki bean-throwing, plus good luck). Neither my wife nor I follow the Shingon sect, but Japanese-buddhist temples for the Japanese community (not Westerners) are rare, so we are glad to visit despite the lengthy drive.

Shingon Buddhism, one of two “esoteric” (mikkyō, 密教) Buddhist traditions in Japan,1 relies on a complex array of ceremonies, rituals, symbolism, and mantra chants that help awaken one’s Buddha-nature not through words, but through a kind of non-verbal impact. This requires a trained teacher to guide one through it, hence it’s called “esoteric” Buddhism (a.k.a. Vajrayana Buddhism). Years ago, I attended a “moon meditation” sitting once where each one of us sat and meditated before a hanging scroll showing a full moon. It was an interesting experience.

Anyhow, one ceremony that’s very common in Shingon is called the Goma-taki (護摩炊き) ritual, or “fire ceremony”. This is often called Goma in English. This is a video provided by Koyasan Temple in Japan which shows a complete ceremony: a priest creates a pyre within a sacred space, often before a statue of Fudo-myo-o (不動明王). Throughout the ceremony, the priest recites certain chants and uses certain hand-gestures. The fire is thought to purify one’s mental defilements, burn away past karma too, and also certain sticks are added to the fire with people’s aspirations and wishes written on them.

At our temple here locally, the priest conducts the Goma ritual as well, and people receive blessings from the ceremony one by one, and we also receive small o-fuda talisman that we place next to our Buddhist altar at home for protection. These are larger than omamori charms, made of wood or cardboard, and usually enshrined, not carried on your person.

The origins of the Goma-taki ritual are taken from Indian religious practices of the past, but gradually underwent “Buddhification” (absorbing practices, and making them Buddhist) and this is why, I believe, that esoteric Buddhism arose in later generations of Buddhism in India.2 The deities portrayed in esoteric Buddhism also have origins in India, but transformed as they were brought through China to Japan.

Goma-taki rituals are frequently held for the public in larger Japanese temples, so you can easily drop and just observe, but be aware they can take up to an hour or more. But it is a pretty interesting experience and well worth observing.

Namu Daishi Henjo Kongo
(Praise to the Great Teacher Vairocana Vajra, a.k.a. Kukai / Kobo Daishi)3

1 the other is Tendai Buddhism, which calls it taimitsu (台密), not mikkyo. What are the differences? Not sure. Both lineages come from the same Chinese-Buddhist tradition of the time, but beyond that, no idea.

2 Seen from one perspective, the earliest texts and traditions in Buddhism did not feature any esoteric practices and rituals, so if you’re looking for “pristine” Buddhism then esoteric practices don’t fit this. From another point of view, Buddhism continued to innovate across generations, first Mahayana Buddhism, then esoteric practices, so in that light esoteric Buddhism solves problems of practice and teaching that earlier Buddhism struggled with. I don’t know which viewpoint is the right one, personally. I am a big proponent of easy, accessible Buddhist teachings and practices (hence the nembutsu, precepts, etc), and esoteric Buddhism doesn’t make this easy. And yet, it is surprisingly popular in Japan (2nd only to Pure Land Buddhism), so maybe there’s something there that I’ve failed to notice all this time? 🤷🏼‍♂️

3 This is often recited in Shingon tradition the way namu amida butsu is recited in Pure Land traditions in Japan.

Civilization

Logic is the cement of our civilization with which we ascend from chaos using reason as our guide.

T’Plana-Hath, matron of Vulcan Philosophy1

What separates countries and empires from civilizations is not size or wealth, or military power. It is their cultural significance, their contribution to Humanity.

Cultures might conquer others, but also ascend above raw power and economic exploitation, and contribute to science, art, philosophy, literature, and so on. Such contributions leave a lasting mark on Humankind for the better, not worse.

Conquering other nations, exploiting other people’s resources, and such contributes nothing useful. No one will remember you when you are gone someday, except maybe historians.

Instead, if a nation is going to be remembered, it will be remembered for leaving violence behind, and embracing reason and goodwill. By lifting people up, not trampling them By elevating science and reason, not superstition and religion. This is true for empires long ago, but also for police-states now.

At least that’s my opinion… 🖖🏼

1 Quoted from both Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, and the Star Trek: Enterprise episode “The Forge” (s4:ep7)

The Onmyoji of the Heian Period

The Heian Period of Japanese history is a really fascinating period, both culturally and historically to me. I even made a whole side-blog devoted to it (15th anniversary this week!). When you read books like the Diary of Lady Murasaki or the Pillow Book, there are a lot of cultural allusions that are hard to translate into English, or even contemporary Japanese culture, and that includes the role of professional diviners called the Onmyōji (陰陽師).

The Onmyoji were not mere soothsayers, but were trained to read various signs and calculations, and compile calendars for the coming year to determine the movements of the gods, moon, stars, etc. This was then used by the aristocracy to make decisions, where to travel and so on.

Much of these calculations were based on practices imported from China: the Five Elements Theory, Yin-Yang philosophy, geomancy,1 and so on. When we think of elements: we think of earth, wind, fire and water,2 but in Chinese philosophy it was earth, wood, metal, fire and water. In the traditional calendar used today across Asia, these philosophies are still preserved. For example, this year (2026) is the yang-fire-horse: (丙午, hi-no-e-uma in Japanese)

The Crest of the famous Onmyoji, Abe no Seimei. The five points alluded to the Five Elements. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

But let’s look at a concrete example.

Onmyoji often calculated inauspicious directions of travel. The idea was that a certain Taoist god named Ten-ichi-ji (天一神) would wander in various cardinal directions. If you traveled in the direction that Ten-ichi-ji was dwelling on that particular day, you would suffer the wrath of that god and be cursed. Therefore, people had to avoid traveling certain directions on certain days. This would lead to convoluted efforts to reach your destination from another direction, a practice called katatagae (方違え). People would travel the night before (before it became inauspicious), or travel in a roundabout direction to get there.

In the Pillow Book, Sei Shonagon discusses the hassles of inauspicious directions:

[154] When Her Majesty [Empress Teishi] was in mourning for the previous Regent, she was required to leave the palace at the time of the Great Purification at the end of the sixth month. However, the Office of the Empress’s Household happened to be in a forbidden direction at the time, so she moved instead to the Aitadokoro [residence], which belonged to the Council of State.

Our first night there was hot and extraordinarily dark, and we spent it feeling cramped and rather anxious as we waited for the dawn.

Another example were abstinence days. Onmyoji calculated days that were highly inauspicious, called monoimi (物忌み), which required people to undergo a day of abstinence. People who were stuck at home on an abstinence days had to avoid anything impure: sex, travel, talking too loud, important work, certain foods, etc. They even had to wear special talisman in their hair or hat.

In the Pillow Book, Sei Shonagon recalls an incident with her lover Yukinari:3

[129] One evening, Secretary Controller Yukinari visited the Office of the Empress’s Household, and stayed talking far into the night. He finally left as dawn was approaching, remarking that he must return by the Hour of the Ox since he was obliged to stay at the palace all day owing to an Imperial abstinence.

Translation by Meredith McKinney

By the way, the passage above also contains Sei Shonagon’s famous poem which was later used in the Hyakunin Isshu (poem 62).

Further, she remarks how annoying abstinence days were:

[22] …. You’ve taken special care to send off a beautiful, carefully written letter, and you’re eagerly awaiting the reply — time passes, it seems awfully long in coming, and then finally your own elegantly folded or knotted letter is brought back, now horribly soiled and crumpled and with no signs reminaing of the brush stroke that sealed it. “There was no one in”, you’re told, or “They couldn’t accept it on account of an abstinence”. This is dreadfully dispiriting.

Onmyoji didn’t just make calendars, they also performed various purification rituals, and exorcisms that Buddhist or Shinto priests would not do. In the Diary of Lady Murasaki, the eponymous author4 writes about the commotion and rituals the Onmyoji would use to protect Empress Shoshi WHILE SHE WAS IN LABOR:

At the moment of birth what awful wails of anguish came from the evil spirits! Preceptor Shin’yo had been assigned to Gen no Kurõdo, a priest called Myoso to Hye no Kurõdo, and the Master of Discipline from the Hojüji to Ukon no Kurodo. Miya no Naishi’s enclosure was being overseen by Preceptor Chisan; he was thrown to the ground by the spirits and was in such distress that Preceptor Nengaku had to come to his aid with loud spells. Not that his powers were on the wane, it was just that the evil proved so very persistent. The priest Eiko, brought in to help Lady Saisho’s exorcist, became hoarse from shouting spells all night.

This mixture of Buddhist monks (trained in esoteric Buddhism) pairing with exorcists and mediums (Onmyoji) loud in yelling and chanting during a woman’s birth feels weird by today’s standards, but Shoshi’s father, the regent Fujiwara no Michinaga had everything riding on his daughter safely giving birth to a male who could inherit the Imperial Throne, so he spared no expense. Lucky for him, it worked.

Onmyoji gradually lost influence during later centuries of Japanese history, but never quite faded altogether. Technically, they were banned in the early-modern Meiji Period, but gradually reformed as a particular sect of Shinto to this day.

Title art for the anime Onmyoji on Netflix. I’ve watched a few episodes so far.

Next time, we’ll talk about a certain legendary Onmyoji named Abe no Seimei (shown above), who is a popular subject of Japanese movies, anime, manga, etc.

1 Geomancy (lit. “earth divination”) in Chinese culture today can be seen in practices like Feng Shui, the Ba Gua and so on. My wife is Japanese, not Chinese, but she does take an active interest in Feng Shui (called fūsui in Japanese). I am more ambivalent, but in spite of my “logical mind”, I am curious.

2 Or just Earth, Wind and Fire. 😁

3 See poem 62 of the Hyakunin Isshu.

4 See poem 57 of the Hyakunin Isshu.

Mercy

Praise the virtuous and pity the virtueless.

The Shushogi, chapter 4, section 22

Frodo: ‘It’s a pity Bilbo didn’t kill Gollum when he had the chance.’

Gandalf: ‘Pity? It’s a pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play in it, for good or evil, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.’

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

We live around plenty of detestable people all the time, the Gollums of the world: in our neighborhood, workplace, etc, or in society at large. Some of us even have parents like this too.

It’s hard to put up with these people. Of course, we want to have goodwill toward them, but they just keep doing things that are annoying, rude, selfish, or directly harmful.

So, I like how Dogen in the Shobogenzo (recompiled as the Shushogi), suggests a realistic approach. Sometimes you simply can’t be friends with detestable people, or you can’t be around difficult family relatives. You can at least pity them, not hate them, though. They may never change, and that’s a tragedy, but it’s also important to avoid harboring ill-will. Easier said than done. But like Gandalf says, even terrible people have their part to play. So, at the very least, keep your distance for your own sanity, but also wish them well, even a little.

Confession: I starting writing this post before this one, and also before I had huge fight with my dad (again), and we are once again not on speaking terms, so I feel like a hypocrit for writing this post. but I still believe in those ideals. Because they are there, we can reflect, learn and grow. Myself included.

Quote This

Recently, someone decided to leave an uninvited comment, questioning my use of quotations in blog posts, and (therefore) my grasp of Zen.

This person has since been blocked.

Every one starts from somewhere, learns differently, and approaches things differently. People make mistakes, but they also grow. Constructive feedback is helpful, but “oneupmanship” is not.

Spock: Has it occurred to you that there’s a certain… inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you’ve already made up your mind about?

Star Trek, “The Corbomite Maneuver” (s1:ep10), Stardate 1512.2

The Light of Avalokiteshvara

I found this nice excerpt from the 25th chapter of the Lotus Sutra, better known as the “Kannon Sutra” for some, and just wanted to share:

All darkness is dispelled by the light of his wisdom
As spotless and as pure as the light of the sun.
The light destroys the dangers of wind and fire,
And illumines the whole world brightly.

His precepts out of his loving-kindess brace us up as thunderbolts.
His wishes out of his compassion are as wonderful as large clouds.
He pours the rain of the Dharma as sweet as nectar,
And extinguishes the fire of illusions.

Chapter Twenty-five of the Lotus Sutra, the “Kannon Sutra”, by Rev. Senchu Murano. You can find an alternate translation by Dr Burton Watson.

By the way, fun language-nerd fact: I noticed that my two books on the Lotus Sutra (Watson and Murano translations) both translate this passage using “he/him/his” pronoun, but both in the Lotus Sutra, and in popular culture, Avalokitesvara1 is frequently described as both male or female: a princely figure (male), a loving mother figure (female), etc. Here are just some examples from a Vietnamese-Buddhist temple in Lynnwood, WA:

In East-Asian Buddhism, the sutra is preserved in Classical Chinese, so I looked at the translated section above and it shows neither pronoun. Instead, the Chinese Character 観 is used which is the first character of Avalokitesvara’s name: 観世音.

This is hard to do in English: a pronoun is usually required, but in many languages, it’s not. In this case, the original text just abbreviated “Avalokitesvara” into a single character into the passage above.

Clever.

Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu

1 a.k.a. Guan-yin, Kannon, Gwan-seum, Chenrezig, etc. To confuse matters, how the Sanskrit name is spelled in English varies. The most phonetic spelling is Avalokiteshvara, but it’s often spelled the more Sanskrit-ey way Avalokiteśvara, expect that ś is hard to print sometimes. Thus, confusingly it becomes Avalokitesvara (no “sh” sound). Transliterating one language to another, especially languages so different like Sanskrit and Chinese is really tough…… but it’s also fun to see how different generations approached it.