Mizuko Jizo
By TERRI KIRBY ERICKSON

October 2, 2011

On the days she makes amends,
a mother kneels beside her Mizuko Jizo.
There are thousands like it in the temple
at Kamakura, effigies of lost
children–miscarried, stillborn, aborted–
and parents who come there to care
for them. She pours water over the statue
to quench her child’s thirst, ties
a sweater around its shoulders to warm
the stone. It takes many hours
to knit these garments when the needles
tremble in your hands,

and your heart feels like a skein of yarn,
unraveling. She prays for safe passage
for the baby’s spirit, speaks a name that only
she among the living knows.
Then she rises like a wisp of smoke–
walks away alone.

Sometimes we just embrace traditions from other cultures because they appeal.  We exchange a few Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve because that’s how they do it in Germany or dress up on Halloween as they do in the U.S.

We’ve been borrowing different customs from different cultures for all time and of course our own traditions are based on the shared experiences or our ancestors.

As our global communication increases and we become more aware of other cultures I believe we will begin to embrace more ceremonies, traditions, rituals.  Sometimes these will be fun activities and other times more serious as is the case with the tradition of Mizuko Kuyo.

“Dear little Mizuko.  We release you into the water to live happily elsewhere.  You were wanted and loved and will always be part of our family”

“I am sorry.  I love you.  I miss you”

“You were conceived in love.  You are our Angel.”

“Every moment of our time with you was cherished.  We will always miss you, remember you and keep you in our hearts.”

“Your life was short and ended before we could meet you.  You will always be with us.  We will always be with you.”

“Your Father and Mother love you.  Be at Peace”.

One passage in Elizabeth’s book certainly made me think more about my research into Mizuko Kuyo.  Elizabeth writes this after conducting a small and private ceremony to acknowledge the end of her marriage.

“This is what ritual is for.  We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don’t have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down.  We all need such places or ritual safekeeping.  And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn’t have the specific ritual you’re craving then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising, fixing your own broken down emotional systems with the do-it-yourself resourcefulness of a generous/plumber/poet.  If you bring the right earnestness to your homemade ceremony God will provide the grace.  And that is why we need God.”

Elizabeth has written in a much more eloquent way about the need for ceremony and acknowledgement in order to heal.  I love that people are increasingly realising the need for spirituality.  I would add that borrowing from other cultural ceremonies only helps to increase the feeling of significance and that the experience is a shared one.