Totoro Taught Me My First Buddhist Lessons
By Koki Atcheson | She/Her/Hers | Honpa Hongwanji Hawaiʻi Betsuin
Revised from a Dharma talk shared at Moʻiliʻili Hongwanjiʻs Earth Day Service, 4/30/2023
Today I want to focus on the most important facet of my identity: a lifetime Studio Ghibli fan! Are there any other fans of Hayao Miyazaki here?
Thank goodness, the fandom is present!
My love for Studio Ghibli started with VHS tapes, then moved to DVDs, then to a short-lived Blu-Ray phase, then to the select theater screenings of the films, and most recently, on Max. I was raised on these stories. Ghibli movies were a Nikkei-jin yonsei dream as they allowed us to keep in touch with Japanese culture without physically going to Japan. I learned how to read English from subtitles in the extended version of Nausicaa Valley of the Wind, even though my mom probably would have wished I could have learned to speak Japanese from these movies instead.
This year, I was feeling nostalgic and looking to make the most of my underutilized Max subscription, and I wanted to investigate the intersection of Studio Ghibli and environmental themes that hold my professional interest today. Plus, I wanted to force the fairytales of my youth upon my non-Japanese friends. Pom Poko was up first in my movie marathon, which has some very obvious anti-development, pro-forest themes. It seems to be a less popular Ghibli film, but I personally rank it number one.
Watching it again, 15 years later, made me realize how imagery and storytelling can encourage us to take care of the Earth in ways that scare statistics and finger-wagging fall short.
But, the real surprise came to me while re-watching Tonari no Totoro or My Neighbor Totoro, a movie that always seemed to come on at family parties, or when our friends from Japan came to visit.
I was amazed by the pure and deep Jodo Shinshu and environmental themes in Totoro that displayed even richer nuances when I revisited the story as an adult. Before I dive into specific examples though, I need to share a disclaimer that my study of Buddhism is mostly Sangha- and Dharma school-based. Although I’ve been going to temple with varying consistency since I was 8, I still am new in my Dharma journey. Of particular note with this movie is that Totoro’s Shinto themes are often mentioned, and I only have a very surface level understanding of Shinto philosophy. So, I welcome any disagreement or additions to the connections I saw in this movie. For me, preparing for this essay was an opportunity to think about my earliest exposures to Buddhist principles even outside of temple spaces.
I’m going to assume that many of you are familiar with the plot and visuals of Totoro, but I’ll give a quick synopsis for those who are not. Also, this is your warning to stop reading if you don’t want spoilers. I promise not to be offended. So, in this story, sisters Mei and Satsuki are the lead characters. The story begins with them and their father relocating to be closer to their mother while she recovers from a long-term illness. Through the sisters’ innocent and human process of exploration in the forest, the sisters meet friendly spirits including Totoro, and their human neighbors who serve as physical and emotional guides. With that, let’s jump into these memorable screenshots.
This screenshot shows Mei meeting Totoro for the first time. She had curiously followed some other spirits into the forest until finding a large, hollow tree with Totoro resting inside. She climbed on Totoro’s belly and took a nap. Totoro here represents safety from harm - and in Mei’s case, a reprieve from the stress of having an ailing parent. Once Mei wakes up Totoro is no longer there, but she knows that she experienced the security of his compassion. This is the imagery I’m going to have in mind from now on whenever I recite the Three Treasures. It is a perfect representation of taking refuge. Picturing it in this way deepens my understanding of the unconditional love and embrace of the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha.
2. This scene shows one of the most slept-on characters of Totoro in his best light. Kanta, a neighbor boy, says very few words throughout the movie but seems to show up at just the right time – first with a bread basket, and next with this umbrella. To be honest, I just love this character because I see so much of myself and my friends growing up in him – doing the right thing can be embarrassing and vulnerable! I wanted to include Kanta’s character even before I saw the connection to Jodo Shinshu. However, I would like to suggest that Kanta is a good example of someone living the Eightfold Noble Path even when it feels scary. Through a nervous grimace and pre-teen awkwardness, Kanta manages to take the Right Action in sharing his umbrella, and Right Speech in not saying hurtful words - even if that means saying nothing at all.
3. Ah, the umbrella again! This is a classic pay-it-forward from Kanta, to Satsuki, to Totoro. If you pause and consider this umbrella, what could it mean in a context of global issues and environmental crises? To me, the umbrella represents an imperfect shield against a barrage of suffering, whether that’s the news cycle or natural disasters.
Our shields could be innovations like algal biofuels and renewable energy sources, or they could be spiritual shields like the Four Noble Truths.
Regardless, to me this scene represents sharing of resources regardless of status, and being open to new ideas even if your existing system (in this case, Totoro’s leaf) seems to work ok.
4. Totoro doesn’t take the umbrella without offering something in return. For this gift of shelter, he shares acorns and other seeds with Satsuki. In this next scene, Totoro and his friends support Satsuki and Mei to plant the seeds and they grow suddenly under the moonlight. Although this planting is outside of Totoro’s forest home, and restoration projects take a few years rather than a few hours, this interaction points to a seriously important take-home message:
Humans are a part of the forest. Trees are not something that exist far away, they are part of our Golden Chain of Love.
5. This next slide was a reminder to me that while humans have the power to cut down a tree, we also have the responsibility to plant the right trees in the right places. This is an issue of protecting all who are weaker than ourselves, which we recite in the Golden Chain of Love. As a quick aside, I used to feel uncomfortable about this word “weaker” since trees are so much stronger than people. They have trunks that can make our shelters, and they can produce FOOD using only sunlight! However, they cannot operate a chainsaw or choose where their seeds are planted with as much precision as we can. So, strengths and weaknesses are relative, and caring for trees is an opportunity to show gratitude for all the services they provide to us.
6. This tense scene comes from the peak of the story when Mei is lost after having gone independently to bring some corn to her mother at the hospital. While out-of-towners just stop by the frantically searching Satsuki and wish her well, the neighbors jump right into action using whatever tools they have. The friendly neighbor obaachan even recites the Nembutsu, which I only noticed on my recent watch. Although this is much more chaotic than the sleepy Totoro scene, to me this represents taking refuge in the Sangha. The community shows up for each other in times of need, which is exactly the kind of energy that we can channel to honor Earth Day.
7. Finally, Totoro and the CatBus show up as valuable Sangha members as they promise to take Satsuki right to Mei. It’s actually worth a rewatch just to hear the CatBus groan to announce “Meeeeeiiiiiii” as the next destination. This felt like a moment of entrusting Totoro with your whole heart. To me, it reminded me of some of the hardest moments in my life when I turned to the Nembutsu for guidance. One of the striking things about this heroic moment was how natural it seemed for Totoro to call upon the CatBus to save the day. While other superheroes have to struggle to find the right path or solution, for Totoro it was as simple as his usual public transit option.
8. Finally, this scene reminds me to appreciate the present moment. Mei and Satsuki visit their mother for a second time and get to see her laughing with their father in the hospital room. To me, this represented the two young girls seeing the truth of their mother’s illness and coming to terms with it in their own way. Although the movie leaves the viewer with questions unanswered about the fate of their mother, it has a somewhat satisfying ending in that the daughters have found a way to accept the outcome, whatever it may be, with the support of their friendly forest Totoro.
Over time, my understanding of Totoro’s character in this movie has changed. As a young kid, I saw the character as a scary villain-turned friend, to a distraction, to a friendly spirit. But with this closer re-watch, I am starting to view Totoro as an omnipresent, all-embracing, physical manifestation of imperfect compassion. If you look beyond the whimsical nature of a fluffy, gray, nonverbal forest creature who flies with an umbrella, Totoro’s character serves as a reminder that Buddha’s light is in all of us, from the smallest forested seed, sprout, or sprite to the largest flying cat bus.
References:
Miyazaki, H. (1988). My Neighbor Totoro. 50th Street Films.
