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Diamond Sutra Master

The great sutra master Dok Sahn was very famous throughout China for his knowledge of the Diamond Sutra. For years he always carried it wherever he went, stopping at temples and lecture halls throughout the country.

One day, he learned that there was a temple in the south where the monks did nothing all day but sit facing the wall and sleep, and they still got enlightenment. "That's crazy," thought Dok Sahn. "They don't understand Buddha's teaching, Buddha's actions, or Buddha's mind. How can they get enlightenment? I'll go hit them, wake them up, and teach them the way of the sutras."

So he walked south several hundred miles. One afternoon he decided to rest for a little while at a small tea house. It was past lunch time and he was very hungry. The owner, an old woman, was honored to have such a great monk stop at her tea house. She bowed to him and said, "Good afternoon, great monk! Where are you coming from?"

"From the north."

"Where are you going?"

"South."

"Why are you going south?"

"I am a Diamond Sutra master," Dok Sahn replied. "At a temple in the south, the monks only sit facing the wall, sleep, and still get enlightenment. That's crazy! So I will go hit them, wake them up, and teach them the Diamond Sutra."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" the woman said. "You are a Diamond Sutra master! Well, I have a question for you. If you answer correctly, your lunch is free. But if you are wrong, I cannot serve you any lunch."

Dok Sahn grew very angry at this. "Shut up! You are speaking to a Diamond Sutra master! My knowlege of it is unparalleled throughout the land! Ask me anything!"

"Good," the woman said. "Now, the Diamond Sutra says, 'Past mind cannot get enlightenment, present mind cannot get enlightenment, and future mind cannot get enlightenment.' So I ask you, with what kind of mind will you eat lunch?"

Dok Sahn's jaw dropped. He stammered but could not answer and his face turned red. He was completely stuck. The old woman said, "You've studied the great Diamond Sutra for ten years! If you cannot answer this question, how will you teach the sleeping monks of the south?"

Commentary
As with the case in the last post, this kong-an (Japanese: koan) explores the intricacies of human relationship.

In fact, at its deepest, this case is about love. And, again, I'm not referring to romantic love but to the love that has no beginning or end. [Note that the Dok Sahn in this case is a different Dok Sahn than the one in the previous case.]

Today's kong-an is unique also because it is one of the few classical cases that include a woman as the protagonist. Without this "old woman's" keen-eyed wisdom, the case would never have appeared and Dok Sahn would perhaps have found greater problems on his travels south. In the postscript to this story, the woman sends Dok Sahn to study with the "well-known" master, Yong Dam (about whom we know nothing else), under whom Dok Sahn's mind opens. So this woman, although nameless, played an important role in the development of Chinese Zen.

This case touches on several important points. First, Dok Sahn hears about monks who awaken without the sutras and it outrages him.

How often do we experience outrage when we hear of something about which we have no direct knowledge? Once a day? Ten times a day? If you consume Internet news, you know the constant undertow of outrage that drives both the reporting and the subsequent dialog. So we might ask, what is the source of my outrage?

Second, and perhaps most obviously, this case reveals the arrogance with which Dok Sahn has cloaked his life.

How many of us, having won expertise in a field, use it as insulation from human relationship? To riff on Suzuki Roshi, In the expert's mind, there are few options; in the beginner's mind there are many options. We might observe how we use expertise to narrow our interactions with others. This behavior is rampant in the blogosphere, of course, but also in everyday interactions with people we claim to care about.

Third, the "old woman" starts sinking hooks into Dok Sahn right at the very beginning, although he doesn't feel their bite. All of us must have experienced something similar - times where we're lost in a storyline and fail to perceive the reality of the moment. How can we remain attentive to the world's many hooks, without shutting down to the loving-kindness that offers them?

Fourth, Zen students commonly hear teachers say "all things are always teaching you" or words to that effect. This woman began teaching Dok Sahn immediately but he remained blind until the end. Going beyond name and form, how can we remain open to the message? How can we honor those who are kind enough to stay with our confusion? Dok Sahn, humbled eventually, asked this woman for guidance. Good for him. Good for her.

Dok Sahn, of course, was an arrogant prick. Just like you. Just like me. But the old woman loved him nonetheless, enough offer help despite Dok Sahn's anger and asininity. She was willing to crawl through broken glass on her hands and knees to help him awaken. She never turned away. That's what love requires.

How many of us would go this far for a stranger? Or for someone we love?

Teachers in the Kwan Um School of Zen typically ask the following questions about this case:

1. The world is complete stillness. Where do north and south come from?
2. What is mind?
3. The woman asked,"Past mind cannot get enlightenment, present mind cannot get enlightenment, and future mind cannot get enlightenment. With what kind of mind will you eat your lunch?" If you were Dok Sahn, what could you do?

Zen Master Seung Sahn commented:

Silence is better than holiness, so one action is better than all the sutras. If you are attached to words and speech, you won't understand a melon's taste; you will only understand its outside form. If you want to understand a melon's taste, then cut a piece and put it in your mouth. A melon grows and ripens by itself; it never explains to human beings its situation and condition.

If you are attached to the sutras, you only understand Buddha's speech. If you want to attain Buddha's mind, then from moment to moment put down your opinion, condition and situation. Only help all beings. Then Buddha appears in front of you. This is enlightenment and freedom from life and death.

Photo by Shelisrael1. Used under Creative Commons license.

Dok Sahn Carrying His Bowls

One day, Dok Sahn came into the Dharma Room carrying his bowls. The Housemaster, Sol Bong, said, ”Old Master, the bell has not yet been rung and the drum has not yet been struck. Where are you going, carrying your bowls?” At this, Dok Sahn returned to his room.

Afterwards, Sol Bong told the head monk, Am Du, who then said, “Great Master Dok Sahn does not understand the last word.”

Later Dok Sahn heard of this and sent for Am Du. “Do you not approve of me?” he demanded. Then Am Du whispered in the Master’s ear. Dok Sahn was relieved.

The next day on the rostrum making his Dharma speech, Dok Sahn was really different from before. Then Am Du was very happy. He went to the front of the Dharma room, laughing loudly and clapping his hands, and said, “Great joy! The Old Master has understood the last word. From now on, no one can check him.”

Commentary
Most Zen kong-ans (Japanese: koans) arise from the natural back-and-forth of human relationship. A monk and his teacher are drinking tea when a question arises. A stranger "hits" a practitioner's mind with an unanswerable question.

A smaller set of kong-ans actually explore the intricacies and intimacies of human relationship. Today's kong-an, case 13 in the Wu Men Kuan, begins with an apparent mistake - the Zen master comes to eat a meal at the wrong time. Then another apparent error occurs - the head monk suggests that the teacher's understanding is not complete. Fortunately, things work out in the end. But what got worked out? And how?

All human beings make mistakes. We might wish it otherwise, but there ya go. It's a fact.

One of the things this kong-an reveals is that a mistake itself may not be very interesting; however our response to a mistake matters a great deal.

Today's kong-an might seem obscure, but most of us have encountered cases like this in daily life. The company president makes a mistake and the vice-president must respond. The husband errs and the wife cannot let it slide. A friend corrects a friend's behavior.

In these situations, mistakes get corrected out of  love. This love is not necessarily a feeling-state and certainly has nothing to do with romance; it's simply a genuine commitment to the well-being of another.

And isn't that the essence of human love?

In the Kwan Um School of Zen tradition, teachers typically ask four questions about this case:

1. What is the last word?
2. What did Am Du whisper in the Master's ear?
3. How was the Master's speech different from before?
4. If you were Dok Sahn, and Sol Bong asked you, "Where are you going, carrying your bowls?," how would you answer?

About this case, Zen Master Seung Sahn commented:

Three dogs chase each other's tails in a circle, following the smell, looking for food.

One Unicorn Is Enough

One day, Hsi-Ch’ien [who was a young monk under the Sixth Patriarch Hui-Neng and later become Shih-T’ou] asked Zen Master Hsing-Ssu, “Did the Great Master Ts’ao-Ch’i [Hui-Neng] know you?"

Hsing-Ssu responded, “First of all, do you know me now?”

Hsi-Ch'ien said, “If I know you, how could the Great Master Ts’ao-Ch’i [Hui-Neng] know you?”

Hsing-Ssu laughed and said, “Oh, however many horns there may be, one unicorn is enough for me!”

Commentary
One unicorn is more than enough.

Source: The Way of Enlightenment, an unpublished manuscript by Zen Master Seung Sahn
Photo by Eugene

Avalokitesvara

Avalokitesvara,

the Bodhisattva of Compassion,

who hears the cries of all the world,

resides within my one mind.

How can I express my gratitude?

Commentary
Recently Chong Go Sunim sent me a beautifully-produced version of Zen Master Daehaeng's verse translation of A Thousand Hands of Compassion*. This important sutra, also known as the 1,000 Hands & Eyes Sutra, has formed a cornerstone of Korean Buddhist practice for over 1,300 years.

As I read through Kunsunim's translation, I came across the passage above and its important question. Actually, there are several questions in this verse.

First, how can Avalokitesvara reside in my mind, when - without doubt - I barely hear any of the cries of the world?

Second, what is my one mind?

Third, why should I express my gratitude?

And, fourth, how can I express gratitude for her residence?

Artwork by Hyo Rim, from A Thousands Hands of Compassion.

* Not available through Amazon.

Our Tendency

As you know, I've not dedicated attention to this blog for quite some time. That may (or may not) change in the near future, but for now I'd like to share this wonderful story and commentary from Robert Aitken Roshi's blog. Thank you, Roshi, for your sustained dedication on our behalf.

Case

Xuefeng Yicun called Xuansha Shibei a true ascetic. One day he cornered him and said, "You're a reborn sage. Why don't you go about on pilgrimage to meet enlightened masters?"

Xuan said, "Bodhidharma didn't come to China. The Second Ancestor didn't go to India."

Aitken Roshi's Commentary

Xuansha is our true teacher. We tend to go over there: to Zen and its many stories, to Vipassana, to all sorts of Hindu faiths, to Meister Eckhart and the various saints. Whatever happened to breath-counting? One...Two...Three...and so on up to Ten. That is our pilgrimage. Xuansha is smiling. Even Bodhidharma cracks his face.

If you visit Roshi's site, please also note Ted Biringer's fine comment on Roshi's post.

Review: The Sayings of Layman P'ang

In the 10th and 11th centuries, Zen teachers began compiling the "sayings" of various Chinese ancestors. Many of these collections record encounters between a well-known teacher and a nameless monk. The monk asks a fairly standard question (e.g. "What is the Way?") and the teacher responds; the monk either does or does not have a realization.

Among these compilations, the sayings of Layman P'ang stand alone. First, the Layman, uh, was a lay person, not a monk. He was not a recognized teacher. How remarkable that his stories would have been collected!

Second, the Layman's dialogues with the teachers of the time, including Great Master Ma-tsu, Shih-t'ou, and Tan-hsia, don't follow the usual pattern of a master responding to a confused monk. Far from being hapless, Layman P'ang was a peer of these teachers; his sayings contain some of the only examples of peer-to-peer encounters from the T'ang Dynasty.

Third, Layman P'ang was partnered by his wife (Mrs. P'ang) and daughter (Ling-chao) - an entire family of bodhisattvas! One can only imagine what their breakfast table conversation might have been like.

The sayings of Layman P'ang were first translated into English in 1971 as The Recorded Sayings of Layman P'ang by Ruth Fuller Sasaki, Yoshitaka Iriya, and Dana Fraser, with the help of other translators, including the poet, Gary Snyder. This book has long been out of print but hardbound copies are readily available for under $10. See here for a listing of available copies.

In 2009, Shambhala Publications issued a new version of the sayings, entitled The Sayings of Layman P'ang, translated by James Green (who also translated The Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Joshu).

Green's translation contains a foreword by Dennis Genpo Merzel, Roshi, and a preface by Keido Fukushima, Roshi. The introduction is by Jeff Shore.

Because the earlier translation of these sayings is widely available, we might ask:  What is the value of the new translation by James Green?

First, Green's translation provides supplemental notes to most of the cases. Similar notes are found in the Sasaki translation (which in some cases are more extensive), but Green frequently discusses the difficulties of translating 1,100 year old Chinese. I found this quite helpful.

Second, we might hope that Green's translation would bring out new meaning from these stories. Frankly, I haven't found this to be the case. Some of Green's versions differ only slightly from Sasaki's; others vary more widely, but don't affect the essence of the story. And a few  strike me as inaccurate in their rendering of the meaning. (I hesitate to say this, first because I'm ignorant of Chinese, and, second, because I rely solely on my untrustworthy sense of the "dharmic" content of an exchange. I may certainly be both incorrect and foolish.)

Here is a side-by-side comparison four famous stories from the sayings, as translated by Sasaki and Green:

Recommendation

If you're only going to own one copy of the sayings of Layman P'ang, I recommend the Ruth Fuller Sasaki translation. First, the Sasaki translations seem to more accurately convey the dharma of each encounter. (This impression may simply be the residue of many years of study and enjoyment of the earlier translation.) Second, the supplementary notes in the Sasaki translation generally seem more helpful and complete. Third, the shoddy print production of the Green version cannot compare to the quality of a hardbound version dating from the 1970s.

I'm extremely dissatisfied with the print quality of the Shambhala edition. In my copy, the typography on each page begins to break up about half-way down the page and, at the bottom, the type is completely broken. This book should never have passed quality control.

Image of Layman P'ang from the Sasaki translation.

The Most Precious Thing

A monk asked Ts'ao-shan, "What is the most precious thing in the world?"

He answered, "It is the skull of a dead cat on the ground."

The monk was surprised by this answer and again asked, "Why is the skull of a dead cat the most precious thing?"

Ts'ao-shan said, "It is beyond any value and price."

Commentary

In the preface to Case 2 of the Book of Serenity, Hongzhi Zhengjue wrote:

A man presented a jewel three times, but didn't escape punishment. When a luminous jewel is thrown to anyone, few do not draw their sword. For an impromptu guest, there is no impromptu host; what's appropriate provisionally is not appropriate for the real. If unusual treasures and rare jewels cannot be put to use, I'll bring out the head of a dead cat - look!

The "way-seeking mind" can wander forever in search of something special. Fortunately, keen-eyed teachers occasionally appear to pull us out of the weeds. Unfortunately, we usually resist these efforts.

Kong-an source: November/December 2009 Water Wheel (newsletter of Zen Center of Los Angeles)

Photo by Sydney Wired

Failure

Case 42 of the Wu Men Kuan describes a bizarre situation in which Manjusri - a first-order bodhisattva - fails to awaken a woman from samadhi, whereas a bodhisattva of the lowest order, Ensnared Light, awakens her with a snap of his fingers.

This post isn't concerned with that story, but with Wu Men's verse comment on the case. Here several versions of that verse:

Robert Aitken, Roshi:

One can bring her out, the other cannot;
both of them are free.
A god mask; a devil mask -
the failure is an elegant performance

Zen Master Seung Sahn:

Come out, not come out,
Both are already free.
God's head and demon's face.
The failure, how elegant.

Yamada Koun Roshi:

One can awaken her, the other cannot;
both have their own freedom.
A god-mask here and a devil-mask there;
Even in failure, an elegant performance.

Eiichi Shimomissé:

Whether the one who could bring her out of meditation, or the other who could not,
Both of them obtained freedom.
The one wore the mask of god, the other, a devil's mask in that theatre,
Even the failure is artistic indeed.

Gregory Wonderwheel:

Able to bring forth, not able to bring forth.
In a ditch, you are able to, by yourself.
A god's head and a devil's face,
In defeat and deficiency, be distinguished and accomplished.

Commentary
Wu Men's poem describes the world of discrimination and distinction (one could, one could not) as a place in which failure becomes elegant and artistic. Is that how you experience failure?

Source: Inspiration (and content) for this post came from Zen Master Wu Kwang's article, "The Elegant Failure" in the Fall 2008 Primary Point.
Photo: Waka 

In The Mountain

Lately I've spent my time reading outside traditional Zen literature, so not many interesting koans have come my way. I appreciate the steady support of everyone who reads Go Drink Tea - I do expect, within the next week or so, to begin posting on a more regular basis.

Here's a poem by Su T'ung-Po (1037-1101 C.E.):

WRITTEN ON THE WALL AT WEST FOREST TEMPLE

From the side, a whole range; from the end, a single peak;
far, near, high, low, no two parts alike.
Why can't I tell the true shape of Lu-shan?
Because I myself am in the mountain.

Commentary
We enjoy clear vistas while hiking on a mountain. How is it that Su T'ung-Po cannot see the true shape of Lu-shan while in the mountain?

Source:  Roaring Stream, edited by Nelson Foster and Jack Shoemaker
Photo of Lu-shan by mars

My Eyes Are Not Blind

Dharma Master Chih saw Dharma Master Yuan on the street of butchers and asked, "Do you see the butchers slaughtering the sheep?"

Dharma Master Yuan said, "My eyes are not blind. How could I not see them?"

Dharma Master Chih said, "Master Yuan, you are saying you see it!"

Master Yuan said, "You're seeing it on top of seeing it!"

Commentary
Yuan's place in the Chan lineage has only recently become known. He was most likely a student of Bodhidharma and a dharma brother to Hui-k'o. The only records of him come from the Bodhidharma Anthology, itself the only document known to contain authentic teaching of Bodhidharma.

In this passage, Chih and Yuan encounter one another at the entrance to the butcher's street - the slaughterhouse. The Vinaya prohibits monks from witnessing such things, and so Chih is shocked that Yuan would allow himself to see the slaughter. Yuan notes that Chih is engaged in double vision.

By the way, when I was in China in 1993, we visited the site of the temple in which the 6th Ancestor, Huineng, was alleged to have spoken the Platform Sutra. The site now hosts a market in which animals are slaughtered.

Source: The Bodhidharma Anthology, by Jeffrey L. Broughton
Photo by Max Westby