This sixteen-line letter addressed to Yamada Tokō is dated the eighth day of the twelfth month of Bunsei 11 (1828). Mounted as a handscroll, it bears at the beginning an inscription in horizontal script by Saeki Jōin, “Kōmyō mu haimen” (Light has no reverse side) (on silk, with the seals “Jōin” and “Futō”), and at the end a colophon by Kushikawa Gyorō (nineteen lines on silk, dated October 1918). Originally in the collection of Kobayashi Jirō (pen name Shūkō), a poet from Niigata, it later passed into the possession of the nihonga painter Yasuda Yukihiko.

The letter consoles Tokō (a sake brewer in Yoita, present-day Nagaoka City, Niigata) following the Sanjo earthquake that occurred on the twelfth day of the eleventh month of Bunsei 11. The earthquake, originating near Sanjo City in Niigata, is believed to corresponded to a seismic intensity of 7 on the modern Japanese scale. Tokō was a cultured individual who enjoyed haikai poetry and painting and was particularly close to Ryōkan. In the letter, Ryōkan conveys his own safety while consoling Tokō in his grief over the loss of family members, and expresses his thoughts (myōhō, wondrous method) on confronting disaster. The myōhō is as follows:

“When the time comes to meet with disaster, it is best to meet with disaster. When the time comes to die, it is best to die. This is the wondrous method for escaping disaster.”

This passage is well known as a succinct expression of Ryōkan’s view of life and death. Though termed a “wondrous method for escaping disaster,” actual disaster cannot be avoided; here he attempts to teach a state of mind that accepts disaster as disaster yet is not captive to grief. In essence, he says that the wondrous method for freedom from sorrow lies in not clinging to the self, not resisting death or disaster, but accepting them as they naturally occur. Such thought, given that Ryōkan was a monk of the Sōtō Zen sect, may be understood as rooted in the Zen teachings advocated by the sect founder Dōgen, such as “casting off body and mind” (shinjin datsuraku) and “the three realms are mind only” (sangai yuishin).

This letter dates to Bunsei 11, when Ryōkan was seventy years old; as he passed away three years later, the calligraphy represents a style established towards the end of his life. The line quality is slender and supple, not at all strained, utterly natural, and within an austere flavor of old age, so that a quiet radiance can be deeply felt. There are roughly three slips of the brush, yet the corrections are made without the slightest concern, harmonizing with the whole. Both in calligraphy and in content, this is an impeccable masterwork.

Saeki Jōin’s inscription at the opening, “Kōmyō mu haimen” (Light has no reverse side), conveys the sense that light brings compassion universally to all, without shadow or partiality. Here it may express that Ryōkan’s pure heart equally nourishes the hearts of all. Kushikawa Gyorō’s colophon records that the former owner, Kobayashi Jirō, visited him and showed him this letter scroll by Ryōkan, which greatly impressed him, and that he was moved by Kobayashi’s efforts to honor Ryōkan’s memory.

Ryōkan (Zen priest, poet; 1758–1831)
Zen priest, poet, and calligrapher of the late Edo period. Born in Echigo Province (now Niigata Prefecture), Ryōkan trained as a monk at Kōshōji temple in his home province, and later at Entsūji in Bitchū (now Okayama Prefecture). Leading an itinerant life for many decades, Ryōkan counted as a something of an eccentric even for Zen standards, yet his contributions to waka (Japanese-style) poetry and calligraphy remains highly regarded.