By Kaz
About a month ago, I traveled to Tokyo. Whenever I make that trip, I try to carve out time to visit Engakuji, one of the head temples of Rinzai Zen in Kamakura, about an hour outside the city. Joining the zazen-kai there has become something of a ritual for me—a place to sit, breathe, and reconnect.
On this recent visit, something unexpected happened. After our meditation finished, one of the monks invited me for tea. I was honored and a bit surprised, but mostly just curious.
What followed was a wonderfully open conversation. We realized we had a lot in common as zazen-kai leaders. He even shared some of his own frustrations with hosting sessions at Engakuji. It was a very human moment, and we bonded over the shared realities of keeping a practice running.
A Tradition in Transition
At one point, the conversation took a more serious turn. He opened up about a real problem facing the monastic community: very few young people are entering training these days.
He explained that the Rinzai school used to ordain around 200 new monks every year. This year, they saw only 40. And he noted that it isn’t just Rinzai—the same sharp decline is happening in the Soto school, in Shinto, and across other older traditions. Younger generations simply aren’t drawn to the strict, traditional forms the way they used to be.
Listening to him, I felt compelled to share the story of our own community here at Hakone Zendo. I told him about how, after Rev. Ito passed away just before COVID, we had to make a conscious decision about our future. We transformed. We moved away from being a formal Rinzai training school and evolved into a community zazen-kai—a group that still honors the meditation Rev. Ito taught us, but without the traditional monastic structure.
I wasn’t sure how a monk from one of the great, historical training temples would react to our shift. But his response caught me completely off guard:
“Hakone Zendo is evolving. That’s a good thing.”
I didn’t expect to hear such an embrace of change from someone sitting at the very center of a 700-year-old tradition.
Embracing Mujo in Daily Life
When I returned to the U.S., that conversation stayed with me. It kept bringing me back to a core concept we talk about often at the zendo: 諸行無常, shogyo mujo.
Or, as we often just call it: mujo. Impermanence. The reality that nothing stays the same.
The great traditions are not staying the same. Hakone Zendo did not stay the same. We evolved. But it raises a deeper question for all of us: How do we apply this evolution to our own daily lives?
It is easy to do things simply because we are comfortable with them. It is easy to cling to the “old way” because we are afraid of change. But we have to ask ourselves: Is the way I am doing things still true to who I am? Does it still make sense?
If it does, that’s great. But if it doesn’t, we need to have the courage to adapt. If a monk deeply rooted in centuries of tradition can look at a small zendo in America and see its evolution as a good thing, we should be able to look at our own lives with that same grace.
Adapting isn’t the opposite of tradition; it is what keeps it alive. Let’s remind ourselves to move forward with an open mind. And an open mind means keeping open ears and open eyes. Let’s look closely, listen well, and see what we find.
Hakone Zendo 