Friday, May 24, 2024
Some places feel like an invitation to slow down.
Kennin-ji Zen Temple, tucked quietly in Higashiyama Ward, beckons the tired and travel-worn soul into a space of calm, silence, and gentle reflection. Founded in 1202 by Eisai—the father of Japanese tea culture and founder of the Rinzai school of Zen Buddhism—Kennin-ji is believed to be the oldest Zen temple in Kyoto.
The walk to the temple is part of the experience. From Gion Tatsumi Bridge, it takes only eight quiet minutes on foot. The bridge sits at the meeting point of Shinbashi-dori and Gion Shirakawa, in the heart of Gion—a neighborhood defined by lantern-lit streets, wooden machiya houses, ryokans, and the soft feeling that time moves differently here.
Before stepping into stillness, we made a brief and cheerful stop at Miffy Kitchen Bakery Gion for usagi—rabbit-shaped bread, cookies, and small trinkets. A light, playful pause before the quiet that awaited us.
Away from the steady flow of tourists in Higashiyama, Kennin-ji offers something rare: space to pause. A modest entrance fee is collected at the reception counter, after which shoes are left neatly on old wooden racks. Photography of people inside the temple is respectfully prohibited, allowing visitors to move freely without self-consciousness or interruption.
As I walked along the antique wooden corridors—my rented geta left behind—I felt the warmth of the aged floors beneath my feet. The temple opens itself slowly through framed views of its Zen gardens. Shoji screens reveal red pine, Japanese maple, moss, and carefully placed stone, each angle offering a different composition. Every window feels intentional, like a painting that changes with the seasons.
It was late spring during our visit. The trees were dressed in fresh greens—youthful, hopeful, and quietly alive.
Inside the tatami-matted meditation rooms, visitors may sit on floor cushions facing rock or moss gardens. Some rooms feature round windows, often referred to as Windows of Enlightenment, inviting reflection on wholeness, continuity, and the cyclical nature of life.
Square windows—known as Windows of Delusion—offer a different meditation altogether. Through them, one is gently reminded of impermanence: life, aging, illness, and death. Nothing feels heavy here. Just honest.
Outside, meandering stone paths encourage unhurried wandering. Sunlight filters through maple leaves. Water glistens on bamboo basins and stone. In the stillness, even the subtle flutter of bird wings becomes audible. Slippers wait near the steps leading down to the rock garden for those who wish to walk deeper into the greenery.
A refuge from movement and noise
Away from the steady flow of tourists in Higashiyama, Kennin-ji offers something rare: space to pause. A modest entrance fee is collected at the reception counter, after which shoes are left neatly on old wooden racks. Photography of people inside the temple is respectfully prohibited, allowing visitors to move freely without self-consciousness or interruption.
As I walked along the antique wooden corridors—my rented geta left behind—I felt the warmth of the aged floors beneath my feet. The temple opens itself slowly through framed views of its Zen gardens. Shoji screens reveal red pine, Japanese maple, moss, and carefully placed stone, each angle offering a different composition. Every window feels intentional, like a painting that changes with the seasons.
It was late spring during our visit. The trees were dressed in fresh greens—youthful, hopeful, and quietly alive.
Windows that ask you to look inward
Inside the tatami-matted meditation rooms, visitors may sit on floor cushions facing rock or moss gardens. Some rooms feature round windows, often referred to as Windows of Enlightenment, inviting reflection on wholeness, continuity, and the cyclical nature of life.
Square windows—known as Windows of Delusion—offer a different meditation altogether. Through them, one is gently reminded of impermanence: life, aging, illness, and death. Nothing feels heavy here. Just honest.
Outside, meandering stone paths encourage unhurried wandering. Sunlight filters through maple leaves. Water glistens on bamboo basins and stone. In the stillness, even the subtle flutter of bird wings becomes audible. Slippers wait near the steps leading down to the rock garden for those who wish to walk deeper into the greenery.
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
古池や 蛙飛び込む 水の音
The Old Pond
Old pond…
a frog jumps in
water’s sound
-Matsuo Basho
 |
Tea, memory, and lingering calm
A small temple café and gift shop offers carefully prepared Uji green tea and traditional biscuits—simple, grounding comforts. Souvenirs are understated, chosen not to impress but to remember.There is a particular kind of peace found in Zen temples—one that doesn’t demand effort. Faced with harmony, the chaotic mind seems to fall naturally into alignment. Kennin-ji is not just a place to see; it is a place to feel.
A garden not only of moss and stone, but of quiet clarity—for the mind and the soul.
 |
| Green light on tatami, even the heart slows its pace— nothing left to chase. |
Wednesday, May 22, 2024
Just like that, I’m back at Casitas de Palma for the weekend!
A quick escape to the mango tree island is just the best thing to do if you're tired of being slow cooked by the sweltering heat. On days when the heat threatens to fry your insides, being surrounded by trees, vegetation and staycationing in an air-conditioned hobbit house is just a literal breath of fresh air. In between hours when the heat index is at its peak, enjoy the art of being lazy. Have coffee. Read a book. Listen to your favorite music. Sleep. Do nothing. Enjoy the sound of the crickets in the evening.
I enjoy the oasis that is Casitas de Palma. In this semi wilderness of inexhaustible heatwave and urban weariness, I find my happy place.
Till then, we dream of rainy days.
Sunday, April 28, 2024
I used to count my years in summers (or Christmases) but ever since the weather guys declared there is no such thing as summer season in the Philippines, I no longer look forward to the characteristically unromantic “dry season” which conjures all sorts of negative connotations and emotions like dried up finances, droughts, dry spells, the Sahara Desert, the dry season of the soul. Growing up, summer evoked happy afternoons with golden hour light filtering through the trees, bicycle rides, birds singing on a cloudless day, watermelon slushies and picnics on the lawn. You’d find me on the porch reading a book while a radio station nearby blares Glenn Frey’s You Belong to the City. Ah, those were the days. By the tone of this post, you'd know this is major 80-90s climate change nostalgia. Indulge my bitchin’ and moanin’ as I whine about the normalized 36C temp and doomsday 44C RealFeel® this season. The human body can tolerate an ambient heat of 43C but higher than that bodily organs start to get stressed. Don’t be surprised if my neurons get disconnected in this heat. I simply cannot stand this preview to hell so screw this dry season 2024!!!!
I don’t know how long we can collectively tolerate this hellish season. The local weather guys are still adamant in calling these soaring temps a heatwave although I am already contemplating my climate change survival plan. My entire wardrobe needs to be overhauled to give way to heat deflecting clothes. I need to invest in less environmentally damaging air conditioner. Maybe I need to temporarily say goodbye to hot coffee which is a diuretic and not good on sweaty days. My habitat would need major renovation too—think wooden Balinese inspired house with high ceilings and airy ventilation. Maybe I need to move to North America. I’m really thinking of the longterm if we are to collectively survive as a specie in this tenuous climate scenario. Can you imagine how hot dry seasons will be in the Philippines in the next 5 or 10 years? If you can’t imagine I can’t either.
Weather whine session done. Now please hand me that strawberry creamsicle before I melt!
Thursday, April 25, 2024
I have spoken about how much much I adore Purr and Scibs in my earlier posts. These are two homegrown brands that specialize in whimsical and cute cat themed arts and crafts like hand drawn sticker sets, postcards, keychains and other special edition gift items. They were one of the vendors having a pop-up booth at the recently concluded Iloilo Mega Book Fair.
Scibs recently launched a stray cats range featuring felines like ginger, tabby, tuxedo, calico as well as black and white cats. Stray Cats aim to highlight the plight of homeless felines that also deserve a warm, loving home just like their pedigreed fellows. Too bad I was only able to visit the fair on the last day and all the stray cats merch were sold out!
Purr on the other hand had all of their adorable stickers available and I was able to get my hands on their everyday cats series. Too cute! If you love cat stuff, give these wonderful creators a visit on their social media pages. There will always be something catastic to brighten your day!
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
On a laidback Saturday evening, we escaped from the exhausting heaviness of a searing hot day by visiting the newest heritage house cafe in Jaro district. We fancied enjoying a light meal in view of a breezy, airy balcony overlooking the elegant, newly restored Graciano Lopez Jaena Park commonly known as Plaza Jaro. The Jalandoni-Montinola ancestral home, now rebranded as Agatona 1927 Museum Cafe is an iconic landmark heritage house at the entrance corner of Arguelles Street. It recently threw open its doors (and balconies) to the general public. Growing up, I've always been fascinated by this beautiful edifice with gorgeous gothic glass windows. Home to Iloilo's buenas familias, this ancestral house has been restored and transformed into a museum cafe, adding gravitas to the newly minted UNESCO Creative City for Gastronomy. True to form, the museum cafe has a cozy, feel at home ambiance that pairs wonderfully with heritage recipes and Filipino comfort food. If you want to feel like an illustrado in the first millionaire’s row in the country, the museum cafe is worth visiting. One of the grandsons of Donya Agatona heads the kitchen as its resident chef.
The museum cafe is inspired by its namesake Donya Agatona Escarilla Arguelles and it was built in neoclassical architectural style in 1927 during the height of the American colonial period. We enjoyed the guided tour that highlighted artifacts, rooms and collections in the house as well as bits and pieces of anecdotal history.
From someone who appreciates houses with high ceilings and wooden interiors, Agatona 1927 Museum Cafe is one of the best representations of architectural style and function that suited the dignified, gilded lifestyle of Iloilo’s old rich.
After our museum tour, sauntering under the moonlight in Jaro Plaza was the next best thing to do. We were surprised that Plaza Jaro just like Molo Plaza now has piped in jazz/classical music for the masses! How cultured!
To inquire about group or personal tours, the museum cafe can be reached via their Facebook page and QR code.
AGATONA 1927 MUSEUM CAFE
Jaro Plaza, Iloilo City
Mobile: 09125003883
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Social Media
Search