Yes this is the inscription in my Rakusu when I received my Buddhist name from Roshi many years ago, when I was participating in the Mexican sangha as part of the Rochester Zen Center where Roshi resided after having come back from Japan and brought to America the Zen Soto-Rinzai tradition.

I used to go to the Center frequently from Mexico city where I live and was working as an insurance agent at the time. There were sesshins (7 day silent retreats) at the Rochester Zen Center and in the more than 10 years that I was part of this, I used to go to 3 or 4 retreats a year.

I was very committed to the practice of Zen Buddhism, having meditation sittings during the weeks in “Casa Zen” here in Mexico city, where I became a leader after 8 years in the community. That lasted for 2 years and then I left the community.

I did all the paraphernalia needed to participate in those sesshins that mainly consisted in having the robe (kesa) besides following the specific rules and procedures to be in sesshin.

A Rakusu is a simplified version of a kesa that is worn around the neck and falls over one’s chest. It has a collar covering where it falls across the back of the neck to indicate denominational sects that, in this case, were Soto-Rinzai and it also had a large flat ring. Everything had sacred meaning.

Kesa was not just a garment, the kesa itself is zazen. It is the robe of zazen and the robe of true zen practice.

Since the time of Shakyamuni, all of the masters of the transmission received, respected, wore, taught and passed on the kesa. Though material, the kesa is infinite, and it tells us more about the Dharma than any explanation of sutras. “The kesa is the thread of zen”, Dogen.

I loved Zen, my whole practice had changed the way I saw and related to the world, myself and others. Roshi was a real inspiration to me and I looked forward every time to be there in the beautiful Center and in these intense, disciplined, very strict buddhist practices, in the middle of the very busy life I had.

I loved the daily delivery of the teachings by Roshi, and at some point of the day, the “Dokusan”. In Japanese, this was a student’s private encounter with the teacher centering on their grasp of an assigned koan.

My practice was with a koan, a succinct paradoxical statement of question used as a meditation discipline.

I worked with a first koan for some years. Each time I would demonstrate my understanding in front of Roshi, he rang his bell and that meant I was done for the time being, retiring from the room in a ritualistic way to go back to my seat in the zendo and continue meditating until the next encounter.

One day the unexpected happened, instead of the bell Roshi said: Take the next one. That meant exactly that, to continue meditating with the next koan. I went through the Mumonkan “The Gateless barrier”; 48 Koans that I explored during my zen training. Each time in dokusan … demonstration … bell … or … take the next one … forever on …

For times when I needed guidance and peace, I went to the Kannon room (he is Kanzeon in Japan). And Kuan Yin in China, the Goddess of Mercy and Compassion, she of course also helped me on my journey.

One night, after having meditated late hours in the night and went to sleep some hours later, I found myself in the most wondrous place. I was floating over the Fuji mountain … and then floating over the Iztlaccihuatl (a dormant volcano) when we did a sesshin at the mountainside here in Mexico with Roshi. Many journeys came after those first experiences.

I was living a parallel life. My mind was more disciplined, I was changing. My life was a great adventure and I was very grateful to have Roshi in my life. That meant so much more and opened me to whole new universes in the realm of spirit.

When he was semi-retired, I went to visit him in Florida where he was staying with his assistant, a good friend of mine.
One day, he comes into the kitchen, I was chopping carrots … he looks at me and says … “You are a real zen person, Adriana”
For me it was the best thing he could have said to me. I was so grateful.

The next day we were walking at the beach, I went into the ocean, the tide was receding, there were strong waves … I almost drowned … Roshi continued walking slower, I had all my drama going on … until I catched up to him and continued walking. Not a word was said.

When I left, he did not want me to say goodbye, and he gave me a beautiful original Japanese fan that he had received from his teacher Asahina Roshi. The design on the fan is in Japanese. Mu ichi motsu that means Not one thing.

I left. A little while after that Roshi left this world, and I use that fan in the hot days of summer and remember his sweet adorable smile.

Thank You Roshi! I love you!