Zen in Stone - The Craft of Tosei Shinabe
© Tosei Shinabe
It all starts with a stone. Smooth, worn down by the passage of time, yet flawed—a quiet reminder of nature’s persistence. At first glance, these objects may seem unremarkable. But in the hands of Tosei Shinabe, they become meditations on impermanence—reminders to let go of what weighs us down. His work bridges the ancient and the modern, proving that ideas centuries old can still shape how we live today.
Stones wrapped in delicate hemp cords. They do not demand attention—but they do not need to. Each one seems alive with purpose, as if holding a secret only revealed in stillness. Their weight, both physical and symbolic, invites you into a world where nothing is rushed, where the simplest things carry the most meaning.
These objects are Kekkai Stones.
A Monk’s Path to Creation
Shinabe did not plan to become a monk. His journey, as he describes it, was “a series of ordinary moments that, in hindsight, were all connected.” His first step came through zazen, the traditional practice of seated meditation, which taught him the power of stillness. That stillness became his anchor—transforming his life and, in turn, his creative vision.
On Awaji Island, off the coast of Hyogo Prefecture, Shinabe gathers his materials, searching for stones shaped by tides and time. He does not seek perfection. Instead, he chooses by instinct. “The right size, a shape that speaks to me”. Each stone becomes a canvas, its final form dictated by its natural contours and the path of the cord he wraps around it.
What is Kekkai?
In Buddhism, Kekkai refers to a sacred boundary—a line where the ordinary ends and the extraordinary begins. Shinabe’s stones embody this idea. By binding each one with hemp cord, he creates both a physical and symbolic boundary.
“The cord does not last forever. It loosens over time, and the stone returns to what it was.”
That is precisely the point. The unraveling is not a loss, but a realisation—a gentle reminder that the boundaries we create, between ourselves and others, are illusions. Letting go of them does not weaken us; it frees us. “It’s a striking idea—one that lingers.”
© Tosei Shinabe
Simplicity at its Core
Shinabe’s process is quiet, deliberate. The materials are simple: refined hemp string, woven by hand, sourced from domestically produced hemp skin. There are no unnecessary embellishments or patterns.
“The stone already has its own story. My job is not to rewrite it. It is to honor it.”
The final product appears minimal—but when you hold one of his stones, it’s impossible not to notice its weight, its texture, its quiet presence. It is not something to be owned. It is something that invites you to pause, reflect, and simply be.
Finding Stillness in a Restless World
The modern world moves too fast. Noise—mental, physical, emotional—surrounds us. Shinabe’s stones offer something rare: a moment of stillness. They resonate with those seeking grounding, those tired of the relentless pace of life.
“It is not about the stone. It is about the space it creates.”
That space—a mental shift, a moment to breathe—can exist anywhere. On an office desk in Tokyo. On a windowsill in New York. In the quiet corner of a London garden.
More Than a Stone
Shinabe insists his craft is nothing special. “It is just tying a cord around a stone.”
But those who encounter his work would disagree. Through an object so simple, he brings Buddhist philosophy into the modern world—making it tangible, accessible. Something you can hold in your hand.
“I’m not a craftsman. What I do is something anyone can do. The value is not in the object—it is in the act. Slowing down. Paying attention. Being present.”
And yet, what he does is clearly more than “just tying a cord.” His stones act as bridges between tradition and modernity, offering a quiet, unspoken connection to something deeper.
An Invitation to Let Go
To encounter a Kekkai stone is to confront impermanence—not as something to fear, but as something inevitable, even beautiful. These stones remind us of the strength in simplicity, the power of letting go, and the freedom found in surrender.
“You do not need a stone to practice this. Just stop. Look around. Notice your life as it is, without judgment. That is enough.”
And yet—when you hold one of his stones in your hand, you can feel its quiet gravity. It asks nothing of you but your attention, grounding you in the present moment. Then, inevitably, the cord will unravel. The stone will return to what it was—simple, unadorned, complete.
Perhaps, in that moment, you will realise: so have you.
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