Ryōkan Taigu is remembered as both a Zen poet and a hermit, and these two aspects of his life are best understood as mutually illuminating rather than separate roles. As a Sōtō Zen monk, he chose a life of seclusion in simple huts, living as a hermit whose daily existence was stripped down to essentials. This solitary, ascetic way of life was not a retreat from the world in a narrow sense, but a deliberate embodiment of Zen practice through simplicity and quietude. His reclusive Buddhist life gave his spiritual search a concrete, lived form.

At the same time, Ryōkan is celebrated as one of Japan’s notable poets and calligraphers, composing both waka and kanshi. His poetry is renowned for its simplicity and depth, expressing Zen insight through images drawn from ordinary, unadorned life. Rather than standing apart from his hermit existence, the poems arise directly from it, reflecting the contemplative rhythm of his days and the clarity that solitude can foster. In this way, the hermit and the poet are two faces of the same spiritual endeavor.

Ryōkan’s reputation thus rests equally on his reclusive practice and his artistic contributions. His hut, his calligraphy brush, and his verses all served the same purpose: to manifest a mind grounded in Zen and a heart attuned to quiet compassion. The life of a hermit provided the conditions for his poetry, and the poetry, in turn, gave voice to the inner landscape of that life. To understand him fully is to see that neither label—poet nor hermit—can stand alone; each is completed and clarified by the other.