The correspondence of a writer, a philosopher, often reveals itself beyond peculiar general views. Such is the case with this correspondence of Itsuo Tsuda from which we publish a few letters, courtesy of Andréine and Bernard Bel. It reveals answers given by Itsuo Tsuda, between 1972 and 1979, to this young couple as they began practicing the regenerating movement. Through these letters we will follow their desire to make this discovery widely known.
Saint-Maurice, February 24, 1972
I have in front of me one of the finest echoes in writing of the regenerating movement I’m trying to disseminate in France. A few years have passed since I started this work. I have received reactions from Japanese, American, Italian, Belgian, and French people. Naturally, there have been disappointments. But when the tuning fork vibrates precisely, I feel it.
I understand your eagerness to share with others the truth that you felt inside yourselves. But alas! The truth is too simple to be easy.
The tendency of Westerners is to reach the conclusion immediately. Yet, this tendency must be tempered by something further in order to achieve efficiency.
We do not harvest the very day we sow. It takes time for a conceived idea to turn to a gesture. Sometimes days, sometimes years.
One must wait. But one must not hesitate when the time comes, even for a split second. This is mindful indifference.
What you say about sexuality is completely right. All human creations are nothing other than transformations of sexual energy. These creations include the various arts, sciences, disciplines, cultures, and also diseases and wars. Altogether, this is not a new perspective. You will find its forerunner in Georg Groddek, a half-century ago.
The regenerating movement is an anti-discipline that melts ice in order to return it to the state of pure water. What one does afterwards with this water is another question: remaking the same ice cubes, or changing shapes.
However, there is a difference which is experienced as an act of creation when we practice the regenerative movement. It is serenity that saves us from destructive instincts, it is spontaneity that does not make us blind. In this sense the generative movement is not competitive with any other discipline. Rather it prepares a fertile ground.
To facilitate the dissemination of this practice, I first suggest the distribution of my booklets *. These are the seeds. Let us do as the farmers do who trample on the wheat to prevent it from growing too quickly.
A funny story. Mrs Beley, a member of our Katsugen-kai, told me once:
— What is the impact of movement, even in unexpected places? My mother lives in Aix-en-Provence. A young couple living in the same house, next floor, asked her not to worry if she heard screams in their home.
— Oh well, I said. Your mother lives in [la] Cortésine.
— This is it!
What a coincidence.