Tesshin Roshi opened his talk this week with a note of gratitude to the Sangha, thanking everyone for giving him the opportunity to study the Dharma more deeply as he prepares these weekly talks. He then continued our exploration of the Samurai koans.

Last week, Roshi spoke about the founding of Enkaku-ji, the “Perfect Mirror Temple.” This week he noted that, around the same time, a convent for nuns was also established: Tokei-ji. Within this convent was a famous “Mirror Hall,” where the sisters were required to gaze into a mirror until they realized their true nature. Just as a mirror reflects everything—beauty and ugliness, joy and sorrow—without clinging to any of it, the “true self” should also remain clear and free of attachment. By staring at their reflection until the distinction between “looker” and “reflection” dissolved, the nuns sought to directly experience their own original nature. Many wrote down their realizations, and over time these insights themselves became koans.

Roshi noted that Tokei-ji still exists today, though its purpose has changed many times. After serving as a convent, it became known as a “Divorce Temple.” In historical Japan, women could not legally initiate a divorce, but if they lived in a convent for 1,000 days, they became monastics and were released from marital obligations. When modern legal reforms made divorce accessible, the temple’s role shifted again, and it now functions as a standard Rinzai Zen temple. Roshi also mentioned that D.T. Suzuki is buried there.

Roshi then explained that this tradition came to be known as “Mirror Zen.” The mirror symbolizes our own true nature—utterly reflective, making no judgments. This approach is closely connected to “Instant Zen” or “In-the-Moment Zen,” a style introduced by Chinese masters in the Kamakura period to teach directly without requiring literacy in Chinese texts.

Roshi then shared a poem by Runkai, the second abbess of Tokei-ji:

“Various the reflections, yet its surface is unscarred;
From the very beginning unclouded, the pure mirror.”

This koan invited the nuns to realize that although the mind reflects the “ten thousand things”—joy, grief, trauma, memory—the mirror itself remains untouched. Roshi encouraged us to contemplate this deeply: life constantly changes, but the mirror of our true nature is pure and unchanging.

Roshi also shared a poem from the temple’s fifth abbess:

“Heart unclouded, heart clouded;
Standing or falling, it is still the same body.”

Again, the teaching is clear: conditions shift, clouds come and go, but our fundamental nature does not change. Just like the mirror that remains unscarred despite the chaos it reflects, our true self remains whole. Roshi wrapped up by connecting this teaching to our own practice. We arrive at Zen as ordinary people. Over time, we may experience breakthroughs—even kenshō moments—but in the very next moment we are still the same person who first walked through the zendo door. The same person, always complete and always perfect.