Kyoto’s Garden of Origins and Journeys
- Kevin Warren
- Jan 18
- 4 min read
Updated: Jan 20
Saihoji Temple: A Garden Story of Ancient Kyoto
Saihoji Temple—better known as Kokedera, the “Moss Temple,” is the kind of Kyoto place that refuses to be rushed. It isn’t designed for a quick loop and a few photos. Kyoto’s Garden of Origins and Journeys is designed for practice, for quiet, for the old understanding that the best journeys begin with a steady mind.
On the temple’s own terms, Saihoji is “The Garden of Origins and Journeys.” The idea is simple and timeless: enter the garden, settle yourself, reflect, and return to daily life re-centered, ready for a fresh start.
A UNESCO World Heritage Property
Saihoji’s significance stretches far beyond its gates. The temple is part of the UNESCO World Heritage property Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto (Kyoto, Uji and Otsu Cities) (inscribed in 1994). That global recognition matters—but what stays with you is more intimate: Saihoji is built to help you slow down and listen.
In a city celebrated for what it has preserved, Saihoji preserves something even rarer: a way of being; patient, deliberate, and quietly awake.
Founded in 731, Renewed in Zen
Saihoji’s history runs long. According to the temple’s historical account, it was founded in 731 by Gyoki as a Hosso-sect temple. Over the centuries, it underwent changes in affiliation, and in 1339 it was restored as a Rinzai Zen temple by Muso Kokushi, who also shaped the garden tradition for which Saihoji is now known.
Saihoji’s reach into Kyoto’s cultural imagination is also part of its story. The temple’s history notes that the Golden and Silver Pavilions were later built in Saihoji’s image—an echo of influence that still feels present in the garden’s calm authority.
Two gardens: a pond below, a stone landscape above
Saihoji’s grounds are traditionally understood in two parts—lower and upper gardens—each with its own character.
The lower garden: A stroll around the Golden Pond
The lower garden is a strolling garden centered on a pond, with the Golden Pond (Ogonchi) at its heart. The temple describes the pond’s shape as resembling the Chinese character for “heart” (kokoro)—a fitting symbol in a place devoted to inward return. Along the walking route, you’ll find tea houses and details that hint at earlier eras, including the reminder that the pond was once appreciated by boat.
And then, of course, there is the moss: softening edges, deepening shadows, turning every surface into something gently alive.
The upper garden: Dry landscape and deep time
Above, the temple describes the upper garden as a dry landscape garden (karesansui) created by Muso Kokushi in 1339, with stones arranged to suggest cascading water in tiers. The temple presents this upper garden as exceptionally old in the history of dry landscape design, and it is also noted that the upper garden is closed to the public.
That closure, too, feels consistent with Saihoji’s spirit: not everything is for consumption. Some things are for preservation.
From Devastation to Flourishing
Saihoji’s beauty isn’t the fragile kind. The temple’s history records that its buildings were burned during the Onin War, and that flooding and natural disasters later caused further devastation. And yet the story turns in the most Saihoji way possible: after hardship, moss began to flourish.
That’s the lesson the garden teaches without speaking. Saihoji isn’t a postcard of perfection. It’s a living place shaped by time—where what endured became, in a way, more itself.
A Visit Structured for Quiet
Saihoji is clear about what it wants a visit to be: quiet, reflective, and limited in number. The temple introduced its reservation-based approach and small visitor limits in 1977, specifically to protect a calmer atmosphere and allow deeper attention.
Visitors generally choose between two approaches:
Nichi-nichi Sanpai (Basic Visiting Program): the classic format: copying a sutra in the main hall, then walking the garden.
Ori-ori Sanpai (Special Programs): limited, date-specific programs meant to deepen understanding of the temple and Zen teachings (including offerings such as seasonal visits and morning zazen sessions, among others).
That sequence, sutra first, garden second, matters. It’s not decoration. It’s an orientation. You don’t enter the moss to be entertained; you enter it having already practiced stillness.
Leaving With What You Came to Find
Saihoji’s official language keeps returning to origins: re-discovering yourself, returning to your true self, beginning again. That isn’t modern wellness talk—it’s an older idea with deep roots: that the mind can be restored through quiet, and that beauty can be a teacher when we approach it properly.
At Saihoji, the moss doesn’t shout. It doesn’t need to. You copy a sutra, walk slowly around a pond shaped like a heart, and let Kyoto’s centuries do what they’ve always done in places like this: steady you, soften you, and send you back out; re-tuned, and ready.
For more on Temple Grounds in Kyoto try our short story on Ninna-ji Temple.
Getting There
Saihoji also provides practical access guidance for travelers:
From Kyoto Station: Kyoto Bus Line 73 (about 60 minutes) to “Kokedera, Suzumushi-dera,” then a short walk; or taxi (about 20 minutes).
From Osaka: around 35 minutes via the Hankyu Kyoto Line, then a taxi from Katsura station (about 12 minutes).
Parking: Saihoji notes it has no parking lot, and nearby coin parking can be crowded, so public transportation or taxi is recommended.
All Photos are shot by and ©KevinWarren/KoiWaters 2026
The stroll garden and grounds of the Saihoji Temple, Kyot Japan. The surrounding community is a strong part of what makes the Saihoji Temple all that it is. If you need something to eat or a place to relax after your visit, go no farther than the local community.
