Kokoro | Mountain
A quick review of Beth Kempton's new book and a reflection
Beth Kempton’s Kokoro is a book I’ve been wanting since I first heard about it. When I started doing her deep journaling exercises drawn from the book, I knew I had to get a copy and I’m glad I did.
A Review of Kokoro
kokoro [n.] intelligent heart, feeling mind
Kokoro is a beautiful journey through the heart, mind, and spirit, set in the peaceful yet wild landscapes of rural Japan. This memoir combines personal grief, deep thoughts, and the beauty of Japan, giving readers a truly immersive experience of Kempton’s quest to confront life’s big questions. The book tells the story of a year filled with loss and change, as Kempton embarks on a journey through Japan’s sacred mountains, seeking guidance on navigating life’s uncertainties.
Kempton’s writing immediately immerses readers in the poignant and intense emotions that come with grappling with the complexities of grief. The structure of the book feels both deliberate and fluid, mirroring the unpredictable waves of sorrow and self-discovery. Kempton takes us on a symbolic journey through kokoro, the heart-mind-spirit connection. As she explores ancient forests, Zen temples, and meets different folks—from Noh actors to cab drivers—Kempton subtly contemplates impermanence, a fundamental belief in Japanese philosophy.
Through her conversations with locals and observations of daily life, she gives us a deeper insight into how Japanese philosophy tackles universal challenges like loss, uncertainty, and the passage of time. Instead of offering clear-cut answers, Kokoro encourages readers to embrace the uncertainty and find tranquility amidst life’s chaos. The wisdom she gains from her journey and the people she encounters emphasizes the importance of being still and present in a world that is always changing.
Kokoro goes beyond being just a memoir of loss and pilgrimage; it delves deep into the complexities of human emotions and relationships. Kempton’s gentle guidance leads the reader towards a mindful, heart-centered way of living, where even in darkness, beauty can be found and calm can be found in chaos.
I know that I’ll be digging in deeper into this book in the days ahead.
Reflections on ‘Mountain’
Every week, Beth shares a reflection on a word and a question to ponder on. Last week’s word was mountain and I want to ponder on these questions here today.
When, or in what area of your life have you been a mountainous presence for someone? Solid, grounded, reliable, steadfast? And who has been or is still a mountain for you?
I think back to moments in my life where I’ve been that solid, grounded presence for someone. The image that comes to mind is when a friend was going through a rough patch, feeling lost and unsure of what to do next. I remember sitting with her, not necessarily offering advice but just being there, steadfast and unwavering. It wasn’t about solving her problem, but rather letting her know that she wasn’t alone. It was offering reassurance that she could lean on me when everything else felt uncertain. In those moments, I became a mountain for her—a source of quiet strength and stability she could depend on, even if the world around her was shifting. Looking back, I realize it was my ability to stay present, grounded in my own sense of calm, that made a difference.
In my family, too, there have been times when I’ve been the anchor, the reliable one who stays composed when things got chaotic. I’ve noticed that, in those times, people tended to turn to me for reassurance. They trusted me to hold things steady, to keep a clear head. I don’t know if it’s always been intentional on my part, but there’s a sense of quiet pride in knowing that I can offer that kind of support. It’s like being a mountain—immovable, reliable, and always there in the background, offering a sense of security without needing to be the center of attention. This quality I imbibed from my Mum.
When I think about who has been a mountain for me, there are a few people who come to mind. When I was really young, it was my mother.
Since I’ve been married, José has been that steady presence in my life. Even when I doubted myself or felt overwhelmed, he was there, rooted in his own sense of self and right and wrong. His steadfastness in the face of uncertainty made me feel like no matter what I faced, I could come back to something solid and unshakable.
The strongest mountain for me has been God. My belief is a very personal one that has come through deep faith experiences. One the very day that I read Beth’s question, I came across these verses from Psalm 144:1-2 (MSG)
Blessed be God, my mountain, who trains me to fight fair and well. He's the bedrock on which I stand, the castle in which I live, my rescuing knight, The high crag where I run for dear life.....
Do share your response to Beth’s question in your comments.
PS: I’ll be back with the regular newsletter next week. I’ve been quite busy and am traveling this week.
This is so beautiful. It’s a great reminder that we don’t have to be the fixer or solver, we can be the one who sits, listens and just be there. 💕
Thank you Corinne for sharing your views on the book Kokoro. Yes, it made me reflect on the "mountains" in my life and I was filled with gratitude for their active supportive presence. Your Mum and Dad were such mountains during my early days of leadership. I will never forget their sound advice and faith in me. I could not agree with you more in declaring the rocksolid mountain consistently has been God who never failed to manifest Himself in the people he placed in the various phases of my life. I am now curious to read the book- will check if there is a kindle copy.