The Japanese folktale of the selfish scholar Iseult Gillespie
In ancient Kyoto, a devout Shinto scholar
lived a simple life,
but he was often distracted
from his prayers by the bustling city.
He felt that his neighbors
were polluting his soul,
and he sought to perform
some kind of personal harae—
a purification ritual that would cleanse
his body and his mind.
He decided to travel
to the revered Hie Shrine.
The trip was an arduous climb
that took all day.
But he was glad for the solitude
it afforded him,
and the peace he felt upon returning
home was profound.
The scholar was determined to maintain
this clarity for as long as possible,
and resolved to make this pilgrimage
another 99 times.
He would walk the path alone, ignoring
any distractions in his quest for balance,
and never straying from his purpose.
The man was true to his word,
and as days stretched into weeks,
he walked through driving rain
and searing sun.
Over time, his devotion revealed
the invisible world of spirits
which exists alongside our own.
He began to sense the kami,
which animated the rocks underfoot,
the breeze that cooled him,
and the animals grazing in the fields.
Still he spoke to no one, spirit or human.
He was determined to avoid contact
with those who had strayed
from the path
and become polluted with kegare.
This taboo of defilement hung over
the sick and deceased,
as well as those who defiled the land
or committed violent crimes.
Of all of the threats to the scholar’s
quest for spiritual purity,
kegare was by far the greatest.
After paying his respects
for the 80th time,
he set out for home once more.
But as darkness fell, he heard
strained sobs in the night air.
The scholar tried to push forward
and ignore the moans.
But the desperate cries overwhelmed him.
Grimacing, he left his path
to follow the sound to its source.
He soon came to a cramped cottage,
with a woman crumpled outside.
Filled with pity, the scholar implored
the woman to share her sorrow.
She explained
that her mother had just died—
but no one would help her with the burial.
At that news, his heart sank.
Touching the body would defile his spirit,
draining his life force and leaving
him forsaken by the kami.
But as he listened to her cries,
his sympathy soared.
And so, they buried
the old woman together,
to ensure her safe passage
into the spirit world.
The burial was complete, but the taboo
of death weighed heavily on the scholar.
How could he have been so foolish,
to shirk his most important rule
and corrupt his divine journey?
After a tormented night,
he resolved to go back
to the shrine to cleanse himself.
To his surprise, the usually quiet temple
was filled with people,
all gathering around a medium
who communicated directly with the kami.
The man hid himself, not daring approach
in case anyone glimpse his polluted soul.
But the medium had other ways of seeing,
and called him forward from the crowd.
Ready to be forsaken, the scholar
approached the holy woman.
But the medium merely smiled.
She took his impure hand in hers,
and whispered a blessing
only he could hear—
thanking him for his kindness.
In that moment, the scholar discovered
a great spiritual secret:
contamination and corruption
are two very different things.
Filled with insight, the scholar
set himself back on his journey.
But this time, he stopped
to help those he met.
He began to see the beauty
of the spirit world everywhere he went,
even in the city
he’d previously shunned.
Others cautioned that he risked kegare—
but he never told them
why he so freely mingled
with the sick and disadvantaged.
For he knew that people could
only truly understand harae
through a journey of their own.