Cedar Cannon Teachings
In the warmer months when the daytime is longer, we would hold the evening chant outside the zendo by standing in a circle on a nearby patio on the large lawn in front of our main building, with a big pond in it, the forest right beyond, and mountains in the distance, under the expansive sky at dusk where the sun is often lighting up clouds in the distance with brilliant colors.
One role in the chanting ceremony is the cedar burner, which I currently hold. On such occasions, the cedar burner used to light a small piece of coal, put it in a repurposed food storage can with a metal mesh put inside, in which they’d sprinkle dry shredded cedar leaves. As the leaves burn, they make crackling sounds and give off a beautiful aroma as they make smoke. It’s not only a way to make an offering to the Buddhas, but also a way to bring everyone into ceremony, as the cedar burner brings the can around to each person for them to smudge themselves, which can look like directing the smoke around their bodies using their hands. Each person does it in a unique way.
One day in June 2024, our head teacher, Soryu Forall, pulled me aside after evening chanting, and told me that the can wasn’t big enough to produce enough smoke to last through the ceremony. He said that bugs fly upwind to where we are, and smoke can deter them, so there needs to be more. He tried pulling up some grass to put into the can, but not much fit in there. He asked me to make a bigger vessel. I agreed, not knowing how exactly to do it.
A day or so later, I asked our property manager, Tsültrim, for help, since she’s handy and skilled in areas such as metalwork and carpentry. Together in the workshop we have here, through some trial and error, we made something using a large can (one that might hold many crushed tomatoes), a bigger mesh, and a vice grip clipped to the rim for carrying it. She also provided some tips on how to make a smoky fire that could last a while.
That very evening, before the ceremony, I was able to make more smoke by putting in four pieces of coal, some lit waxed cardboard, moistened stems of grass, and moistened cedar leaves. When I brought the whole thing out to the group, many people laughed delightedly, though I didn’t know why. At the end of that week, when we could talk after evening chanting rather than keep Noble Silence, a friend said we could call it the Cedar Cannon—a wordplay on many levels—and the group agreed.
Soryu was away that week, but joined us again soon after. Over the next few weeks, I continue to experiment with how to make the smoke last longer, with much feedback from him.
At one point, much of the smoke would be gone near the end of the chant, so he asked me to try making a real fire. I was apprehensive if the cannon was big enough for that, but thanks to advice from a friend, I was able to do so by finding thin twigs in the nearby forests to feed the fire before adding moist grass.
The day it worked, I kept a small fire burning in the cannon while I brought it around to people. The flames looked menacing, but they didn’t burn my hand, and I didn't notice much change in people's behaviors.
When I brought it to Soryu, he whispered to me that I can wait until the fire goes out, then take it around. “No need to incinerate people,” he said.
After I implemented that feedback, he didn't given any other ones, but simply let me keep learning on my own from each trial.