Suddenly reverberating and abruptly falling silent,
the drumbeat is like an alarm that drives away confusion.
The shock of the drumming and the tranquillity of the mind
have an inseparable relationship.

The thunder of drumsticks striking a huge drum sliced through the dark clouds and drizzle of the evening. A drummer wearing only a loincloth beats the giant taiko with two large bachi, the muscles of his arms and legs rippling with the strain, his sweat falling with the rain.

On the evening of May 17, Ondekoza, a group of ten young Japanese drum performers, gave their first charity performance at the Still Thoughts Hall in Hualien, Taiwan. The group was first formed in 1969 on the Japanese island of Sadoshima. In communal life on the island, young men and women previously unassociated with traditional performing arts underwent vigorous physical training in marathon running and technical training in the art of taiko, the great Japanese drums. In 1975, the company made a striking debut in the United States when all the members crossed the finish line of the Boston Marathon and immediately ran to the stage for a performance.

Ondekoza toured the United States between 1990 and 1993. In that time, its members ran a total of 14,910.4 kilometers [9244 mi] and performed 355 concerts in cities throughout the country, averaging two dollars per day for meals and wearing out 121 pair of shoes in their quest for the ultimate musical and spiritual experience.

Living Mindfully

Takakubo Yasuko, leader of Ondekoza, feels that rapid westernization often makes Asians lose their self-identity. "We must slow down and create the life that we are hoping for. In the process, we can often discover what modern people have forgotten, like a flower by the roadside... We want to redefine modern culture."

Although the taiko was originally used in religious ceremonies, the group's performances are now intended to express the mystery of the spirit. Ondekoza is an artistic group, but it is a unique group that preaches their spirituality through the disciplined rhythm of the drumbeats. The group departs from tradition to reach the minds of people around the globe.

When they eat, all the team members use their left hands, because even eating is a type of training. When striking the huge taiko, the performer's left hand will not be able to use the same force as the right hand without proper training. This practice also reinforces their mindfulness towards life. "People rush through their lives without any awareness at all," Ms. Takakubo observed. "The unfamiliar feeling of eating with our left hands makes us pay careful attention to what we are doing."

Not only do team members have to use their left hands to eat, but Ms. Takakubo also asks them to eat the meal with relish. This means that the meal itself is neither good nor bad, but every meal can be enjoyed through the awareness of one's mind.

Training and cultivating themselves through an ascetic lifestyle, how can the performers overcome the challenge of the desires? Ms. Takakubo pondered this question for a long time before answering. To people who are carrying out spiritual formation, such a question is meaningless, because it is not a problem at all for them. Their busy daily life has become natural to them, and they do not think it is anything special. "A thirty or forty kilometer training run can take up a lot of time for us," she finally answered, "and it is more practical to get a good sleep. We don't have time to think of anything else."

The spirit that Ondekoza wants to express, whether on the stage or in members' experiences, is to place the awareness of "living in the here and now" in their daily walking, standing, sitting and sleeping. When team member Kamimura Shigeru went for a stroll after lunch, I asked him why he didn't take a break or take a nap. He answered as though he did not understand my question: "I am taking a break."

This is similar to Master Cheng Yen's teaching: "'Rest' simply means doing some other kind of work." To the members of Ondekoza, resting means doing some other kind of training. "There is no such thing as 'resting,'" Kamimura said. "When we have time, we would rather train. Sometimes we read books or enjoy a kung fu videotape. We even walk around just to look at people."

The Primordial Sound

The taiko, the large Japanese drum, was very prominent in the creation of villages in Japan. Boundaries were drawn at the furthest distance the sound of the drum could be heard. At the center of the village stood tall towers called yagura in which a large drum was placed to warn villagers of impending disasters such as fires, floods and tsunamis. Farmers used the drum to ward off insects and to celebrate harvests as well.

Why is the beating of a drum so fascinating? Kurai Shuichi has over twenty years of experience in performing and teaching the taiko. He directed "Kui-hsin Drum," which was performed by members of the US branch at Tzu Chi's thirty-second anniversary earlier this year. He observed that the first sound that we hear as human beings is the sound of our mother's heartbeat in the womb. That is why babies are known to be lulled to sleep by the sound of the drum. The beating of our hearts is the very rhythm of life itself. Like breathing in Zen meditation, we follow a natural rhythm without consciously knowing it. Our moods and feelings depend on rhythm in our daily lives. People who have not been baptized by modern technology are naturally sensitive to tempo and rhythm. Maybe it is not because we have no talent, but because we have grown up in this society that we have lost that fundamental sensitivity to rhythm. Sometimes we go along with the beat, and other times we go against it. We suppress it into our subconscious without realizing it.

Merit and Power

The taiko has a very deep relationship with Buddhism. Bells and drums have been traditionally used to regulate time in Buddhist monasteries and to keep the beat for sutra chanting.

Besides being used for worship, bells and drums also have a special significance. The phrase "evening drum and morning bell" means that bells and drums symbolize the elevation of the mind. When a drum is beat perfectly, it has a power that can drive away confusion and indolence. A sutra says, "In the morning, the bell and drum break the long night and dispel sleepiness. In the evening, they bring clarity and banish darkness." Kurai observes that the sound of the taiko represents the voice of the Buddha, calling us to listen to the dharma. It seems that the sounds of bells and drums have great merit for spiritual formation.

Another sutra states, "When a bell is struck, all evil and suffering cease." There is another line, "When a dying person hears the sound of a bell, his mind turns to good and correct thoughts."

Since bells and drums can have such incredible merit and power, Buddhists respect them very highly. An ancient monk once said, "At the sound of the bell, you must get out of bed... If not, the guardian deities will be very angry. You will lose blessings and wisdom in this life and become a snake in the next life."

The Zen of Sound

Kurai remarked that playing the taiko well does not mean playing to an audience to receive attention and applause. The ultimate goal is to achieve oneness with yourself and the drum. Listening and playing is very much like sitting in Zen meditation. "Becoming one with the sound of the taiko means that there is no separation between myself and the sound-I am the sound and it is me."

White clouds need a blue sky as a background. Beauty also needs ugliness for contrast. In the same way, the shock of the drumming and the tranquillity of the mind have an inseparable relationship. "I am also the no-sound of taiko. Just like the empty space which gives shape to objects in a painting, the absence of sound gives shape and fullness to the sound. The no-sound allows the sound to resonate and achieve its maximum potential." When I recall these words, I come to understand that if you use a chaotic mind as the background for the drumbeat, then the drumbeat will only be so much noise. You may say that the background for the drumbeat is actually your own mind.

When playing the taiko, the player is communicating his energy and spirit to the audience or listener. When the listener responds, he or she communicates back to the player. So there is a constant communication back and forth between the player and listener.