Ono Jinja

Ono Jinja.

In a quiet residential neighborhood of Tama, on the western edge of Tokyo, sits a small shrine that few tourists ever find.

It is one of Tokyo's few First Shrines — meaning, in the old categorization, the most prestigious shrine of the ancient Musashi Province. The other Musashi First Shrine, Hikawa Jinja, is enormous, with a two-kilometer avenue of trees. This one is small. A short path. A modest hall. Houses just beyond the wall.

For centuries, this asymmetry has been a quiet local conversation. Why is one so grand and the other so small? Why does this shrine, also a First Shrine, stay hidden?

The answers are lost. The shrine has stood since at least the year 942. Whatever larger structure may have once been here, the centuries have eroded.

But the trees are old. The path is well kept. The water from the small stream that runs nearby is clear. The Tama River, just a few minutes away on foot, still flows the way it did when this shrine was new.

The deity here is associated with rivers and with the act of cleansing.

Walk down to the river after visiting. Watch the water move past, on its long way to Tokyo Bay.

Most things written or spoken — including most worries — flow downstream like this. The shrine, behind you, simply watches.

Some places remind you that you, too, are something that flows.