Hokokuji Temple

My sights were set on Hokokuji Temple for my kids’ Kamakura day of spring break. We were not thwarted by a rerouted bus, weird train connections or the several-kilometer walk.

Hokokuji Temple hangs suspended in my mind, unchanging. I can see the stepping stones through the bamboo so clearly, hear the trickling of the mountain spring as I hold a bowl of tea in my hands. In fair weather or in rain, the roof over the tea benches offers protection from the outside world, from time itself. This temple, the green of early Japanese maple leaves, my jade bracelet: this green colors every memory of life here in my 20s.

At the entrance, I discovered the kids were free. I bought myself a tea ticket (¥900 for entrance and tea). Nothing could stop me now.

We crossed the stepping stones through the bamboo. Giggling faces appeared through the stalks as the girls turned and posed, photographing each other. The curve of the pavilion stretched over the tea benches. The mountain spring poured from a bamboo shoot to trickle down the rocks. Time ceased to hold meaning. It was as if all the times I’ve enjoyed tea with here with people I love—my parents, my brother, Chris—just happened the day before.

And yet this one moment, this encounter, will never happen again. A kind lady brought Isaac and Eloise two tea sweets and a bowl of tea, which they sipped. You can guess how they liked it—it might be the first time they’ve tasted matcha.

The World in a Bowl of Tea

“In my own hands I hold a bowl of tea; I see all of nature represented in its green color. Closing my eyes I find green mountains and pure water within my own heart. Silently sitting alone and drinking tea, I feel these become part of me.”

Hounsai Soshitsu Sen XV

It’s hard to effectively describe the complete tranquility—the feeling of floating on calm, translucent water—that comes with this combination of garden, sugar hit and caffeine. I think I could stay there forever.

But Isaac and Elo could not. We stepped over the stones back through the towering bamboo and headed off on our next adventure, having added another page to the file of memories hanging in timelessness in Hokokuji. Some things never change.

Ladies in kimono filled Kamakura this day, stepping softly through tunnels of sakura and waiting outside cafes