Aiko, a young woman, lived in Yomogita, a village in Japan. Her husband was the local tavern owner, and she helped him serve customers and maintain the books. Her gentle nature, soft looks, and delicate smile ensured that no patron ever left the tavern unhappy. 

Haku was a monk in the village temple. For the past eleven generations, all the firstborn children in his family have been priests in the Temple. He started practicing zen when he was five and was happy to be away from the material world and focused his mind on the teachings of Buddha. Since the local cemetery was on the temple grounds, he conducted death rituals and provided spiritual support to the bereaved family. 

Haku chanted the sutras as he watched Aiko gracefully grieve for the sudden loss in her life. He watched her courageously pick out one particular neckbone that appeared to contain a seated Buddha figure and transfer it to a small pot that she then released in a nearby stream. 

She was there in the Temple the following day, and he talked to her about Buddha, loss, impermanence, and other teachings. She came every day for the next fifty days of mandatory mourning, and it seemed that her soul was drinking the essence of every single Buddhist teaching he could muster. She understood and started memorizing the four noble truths within a few days. She laughed shyly and then joyfully at the tangerine lesson shared by Buddha. The Eightfold Noble Path was the next to be conquered as she seamlessly adopted them into her life. 

As the days progressed, Haku started witnessing small changes within himself. It was getting harder for him to concentrate. He felt her presence even when she was not in the Temple—the gentle smell of the Chrysanthemum perfume, the soft, almost inaudible breathing, the shy smile, and the long dainty fingers started intruding his zazen. He looked forward to meeting her and then pined for her after leaving. 

Meanwhile, she was progressing rapidly on the path. Devotion and detachment were her best friends as he read and practiced seamlessly while managing the tavern. Ideas that took him years to crystallize seemed to metabolize for her in a few days. 

He decided to use this opportunity to strengthen his focus and commitment to Buddha. He meditated on Buddha’s teachings of detachment before and after meeting her and found himself rapidly progressing in the journey. 

The fifty-day mourning period was complete, yet she came the next day. When this happened for one more week, tounges started wagging in the village. Maybe Haku wanted more from life than just priesthood. Maybe running a tavern interested him. Perhaps Aiko had cast a spell on him to move him away from the path. These poisonous thoughts rushed through the village and poured into Haku’s father’s ears. He called him and told him that he would go to Kyoto for further studies. When he protested and told him about his progress with Aiko and how she was helping him realize Buddha’s words, his father sneered and told him he had the soul of Gaijin. Haku was banished to Kyoto, and when Aiko came to study the next day, she was told in no uncertain terms that women had no place in the Temple, especially women who seduced younger men. 

She brushed her tears and walked away, focusing on her breath, as she felt a dozen eyes boring into her back. She reached the tavern to find a small book of Zen Haikus by Chiyo-ni on the table. The first Haiku of the book read “mikazuki ni hishihishi to mono no shizumarinu” or 

at the crescent moon

the silence

enters the heart

The teachings of Buddha and the time she spent learning from Haku eventually aided and healed Aiko. Every month she received a book from Kyoto, and every single day she deepened her practice. Three years later, on a misty morning, as the stars faded out and the clouds blushed orange, she sat in the lotus posture and began her practice of Zazen. A few minutes later, a gentle throbbing sensation emanated from her forehead, and an incredible silence enveloped her entire body cloaking it like fog encasing a mountain. As the feeling intensified, she closed her eyes, and suddenly her consciousness exploded. In Kyoto, she saw Haku sit with hundreds of other monks chanting the lotus sutra. She saw hundreds of ghostly chains that bound them and the sutra gradually unlocking each chain. She also saw their thoughts wander, and every conditioned thought created new chains around them. She was now in her village, where Haku’s father meditated in the temple. His aura was grey, and her heart melted when she saw how solid his chains were. The mantra barely stood a chance, and only grace could liberate him. She rose above and became the sky. All around, she could see men and women bound by the chains of their very own thoughts and ideas. Somehow the chains among most men seemed darker and sturdier. The very certainty with which they claimed that spirituality was their privilege, and they knew every single rule or ritual was binding them, almost choking them, yet they continued to pull the chains. The women seemed bound by transparent chains. They were loose, but the women lacked confidence or even will to shake them off. Unlike the men who were oblivious, the women knew they were shackled but simply refused to shake them off. Sometimes when you are a prisoner for too long, the idea of freedom is scarier, and the chains feel comfortable. 

In her heart, Aiko knew it was time to choose. She could keep rising, and she would merge with Buddha. Or she could come back and help people break their chains. The very people she helped would abuse her. Most of her work would be invisible, but she knew she would make a difference. It would start with a trickle, but it would be a Tsunami of change by the end. Every life mattered. Every person deconditioned was one less prisoner. 

Her consciousness descended back to her body, and she got up with a smile. The sun was shining, the dewdrops were melting, and she had a journey to make to Kyoto to liberate her first student. 

My Summary

Have you ever wondered my more people have not achieved liberation? Forget liberation, priests, scholars, and other people who practice organized religion don’t seem to find happiness. I know this because I volunteered in a large temple for many years during college and spent a lot of time hanging out with them. The priests who spent all day chanting the lord’s name, did abhishkham, dressed the lord up with sandalwood paste had the same issues as most people who visited the temple. The elderly scholars that made up the management committee were in the same space. The more I embrace spirituality, the one single lesson that matters more than anything is spirituality is about deconditioning yourself. You can do every Sadhana, chant every mantra, read every scripture under the sun, but you cannot achieve true liberation till you decondition your mind. Gender-based conditioning is one of the greatest threats to our liberation. 

Liberation demands we drop all conditioning and see ourselves for what we really are – Brahman. How do we do that when we consciously or subconsciously discriminate against half the human beings on this planet? That’s one of the most significant reasons why most seekers hit brick walls beyond a point. The chains of conditioning cannot be broken without grace. However, we can at least be aware that we are bound. The next time your wife, daughter, or mother expresses her desire to walk this path, just ensure they have the same opportunity you would give yourself. That’s literally all we need to do.