Worship

This little fella is standing in a pond in the Hasedera Temple Complex in Kamakura.  I don’t know how long he’s been there himself but the complex dates back to the 8^thCentury. There were plenty of other Buddha’s there, round ones, angry ones, happy ones and serene ones, all of them had bald heads and round bellies. But this one caught my eye because as I walked past it, two rather attractive young women were taking their time using the ladle thing you can see in the photo to wash the buddha, rubbing its head and its belly with a tenderness I have only ever seen before from mothers with their first born (sorry second and third borns but we all know after the first born wonder and tenderness is replaced by the need for speed.) Once the cleansing was done, I took this photo and then another woman arrived and started to cleanse the statue from scratch. It’s just been cleaned, I said but it didn’t stop her from showing the same tender loving care to the statue as the previous ladies had done. It was then that the idea struck me. The bald head, the rounded tummy, the bad choice of clothing, there was something about that buddha that reminded me of me. I had a plan, I found myself a spot, placed a ladle at my feet, put the palms of my hands together and waited. Surely, it was only a matter of time before the ladies mistook me for a buddha and started to bathe me. I stood and stood, just a matter of time, I told myself, just a matter of time. Eight hours I stood there, eight hours, not one belly rub, not one shine of my head. Nothing. I don’t understand it. 

Here are some more of the Buddhas from Hasedera.