Mu-Mon
(The Gateless Gate )
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81 - 101
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Gasan was sitting at
the bedside of Tekisui three days before his teacher's passing. Tekisui
had already chosen him as his successor.
A temple recently
had burned and Gasan was busy rebuilding the structure. Tekisui asked him:
"What are you going to do when you get the temple rebuilt?"
"When your sickness
is over we want you to speak there," said Gasan.
"Suppose I do not
live until then?"
"Then we will get
someone else," replied Gasan.
"Suppose you cannot
find anyone?" continued Tekisui.
Gasan answered
loudly: "Don't ask such foolish questions. Just go to sleep."
^
Yamaoka Tesshu, as a
young student of Zen, visited one master after another. He called upon
Dokuon of Shokoku.
Desiring to show his
attainment, he said: "The mind, Buddha, and sentient beings, after all, do
not exist. The true nature of phenomena is emptiness. There is no
realization, no delusion, no sage, no mediocrity. There is no giving and
nothing to be received."
Dokuon, who was
smoking quietly, said nothing. Suddenly he whacked Yamaoka with his bamboo
pipe. This made the youth quite angry.
"If nothing exists,"
inquired Dokuon, "where did this anger come from?"
^
Hyakujo, the Chinese
Zen master, used to labor with his pupils even at the age of eighty,
trimming the gardens, cleaning the grounds, and pruning the trees.
The pupils felt
sorry to see the old teacher working so hard, but they knew he would not
listen to their advice to stop, so they hid away his tools.
That day the master
did not eat. The next day he did not eat, nor the next. "He may be angry
because we have hidden his tools," the pupils surmised. "We had better put
them back."
The day they did,
the teacher worked and ate the same as before. In the evening he
instructed them: "No work, no food."
^
A long time ago in
China there were two friends, one who played the harp skilfully and one
who listen skillfully.
When the one played
or sang about a mountain, the other would say: "I can see the mountain
before us."
When the one played
about water, the listener would exclaim: "Here is the running stream!"
But the listener
fell sick and died. The first friend cut the strings of his harp and never
played again. Since that time the cutting of harp strings has always been
a sign of intimate friendship.
^
Ikkyu, the Zen
master, was very clever even as a boy. His teacher had a precious teacup,
a rare antique. Ikkyu happened to break this cup and was greatly
perplexed. Hearing the footsteps of his teacher, he held the pieces of the
cup behind him. When the master appeared, Ikkyu asked: "Why do people have
to die?"
"This is natural,"
explained the older man. "Everything has to die and has just so long to
live."
Ikkyu, producing the
shattered cup, added: "It was time for your cup to die."
^
Zen masters give
personal guidance in a secluded room. No one enters while teacher and
pupil are together.
Mokurai, the Zen
master of Kennin temple in Kyoto, used to enjoy talking with merchants and
newspapermen as well as with his pupils. A certain tubmaker was almost
illiterate. He would ask foolish questions of Mokurai, have tea, and then
go away.
One day while the
tubmaker was there Mokurai wished to give personal guidance to a disciple,
so he asked the tubmaker to wait in another room.
"I understand you
are a living Buddha," the man protested. "Even the stone Buddhas in the
temple never refuse the numerous persons who come together before them.
Why then should I be excluded?"
Mokurai had to go
outside to see his disciple.
^
A Zen master named
Gettan lived in the latter part of the Tokugawa era. He used to say:
"There are three kinds of disciples: those who impart Zen to others, those
who maintain the temples and shrines, and then there are the rice bags and
the clothes-hangers."
Gasan expressed the
same idea. When he was studying under Tekisui, his teacher was very
severe. Sometimes he even beat him. Other pupils would not stand this kind
of teaching and quit. Gasan remained, saying: "A poor disciple utilizes a
teacher's influence. A fair disciple admires a teacher's kindness. A good
disciple grows strong under a teacher's discipline."
^
A well-known
Japanese poet was asked how to compose a Chinese poem.
"The usual Chinese
poem is four lines," he explains. "The first line contains the initial
phase; the second line, the continuation of that phase; the third line
turns from this subject and begins a new one; and the fourth line brings
the first three lines together. A popular Japanese song illustrates this:
Two daughters of a
silk merchant live in Kyoto.
The elder is twenty, the younger, eighteen.
A soldier may kill with his sword.
But these girls slay men with their eyes.
^
Zen teachers train
their young pupils to express themselves. Two Zen temples each had a child
protégé. One child, going to obtain vegetables each morning, would meet
the other on the way.
"Where are you
going?" asked the one.
"I am going wherever
my feet go," the other responded.
This reply puzzled
the first child who went to his teacher for help. "Tomorrow morning," the
teacher told him, "when you meet that little fellow, ask him the same
question. He will give you the same answer, and then you ask him: 'Suppose
you have no feet, then where are you going?' That will fix him."
The children met
again the following morning.
"Where are you
going?" asked the first child.
"I am going wherever
the wind blows," answered the other.
This again
nonplussed the youngster, who took his defeat to his teacher.
"Ask him where he is
going if there is no wind," suggested the teacher.
The next day the
children met a third time.
"Where are you
going?" asked the first child.
"I am going to the
market to buy vegetables," the other replied.
^
Tangen had studied
with Sengai since childhood. When he was twenty he wanted to leave his
teacher and visit others for comparative study, but Sengai would not
permit this. Every time Tangen suggested it, Sengai would give him a rap
on the head.
Finally Tangen asked
an elder brother to coax permission from Sengai. This the brother did and
then reported to Tangen: "It is arranged. I have fixed it for you start
your pilgrimage at once."
Tangen went to
Sengai to thank him for his permission. The master answered by giving him
another rap.
When Tangen related
this to his elder brother the other said: "What is the matter? Sengai has
no business giving permission and then changing his mind. I will tell him
so." And off he went to see the teacher.
"I did not cancel my
permission," said Sengai. "I just wished to give him one last smack over
the head, for when he returns he will be enlightened and I will not be
able to reprimand him again."
^
91.
The Taste of Banzo's Sword
Matajuro Yagyu was the son of a famous swordsman. His father, believing
that his son's work was too mediocre to anticipate mastership, disowned
him.
So
Matajuro went to Mount Futara and there found the famous swordsman Banzo.
But Banzo confirmed the father's judgment. "You wish to learn
swordsmanship under my guidance?" asked Banzo. "You cannot fulfill the
requirements."
"But if
I work hard, how many years will it take to become a master?" persisted
the youth.
"The
rest of your life," replied Banzo.
"I
cannot wait that long," explained Matajuro. "I am willing to pass through
any hardship if only you will teach me. If I become your devoted servant,
how long might it be?"
"Oh,
maybe ten years," Banzo relented.
"My
father is getting old, and soon I must take care of him," continued
Matajuro. "If I work far more intensively, how long would it take me?"
"Oh,
maybe thirty years," said Banzo.
"Why is
that?" asked Matajuro. "First you say ten and now thirty years. I will
undergo any hardship to master this art in the shortest time!"
"Well,"
said Banzo, "in that case you will have to remain with me for seventy
years. A man in such a hurry as you are to get results seldom learns
quickly."
"Very
well," declared the youth, understanding at last that he was being rebuked
for impatience, "I agree."
Matajuro was told never to speak of fencing and never to touch a sword. He
cooked for his master, washed the dishes, made his bed, cleaned the yard,
cared for the garden, all without a word of swordmanship.
Three
years passed. Still Matajuro labored on. Thinking of his future, he was
sad. He had not even begun to learn the art to which he had devoted his
life.
But one
day Banzo crept up behind him and gave him a terrific blow with a wooden
sword.
The
following day, when Matajuro was cooking rice, Banzo again sprang upon him
unexpectedly.
After
that, day and night, Matajuro had to defend himself from unexpected
thrusts. Not a moment passed in any day that he did not have to think of
the taste of Banzo's sword.
He
learned so rapidly he brought smiles to the face of his master. Matajuro
became the greatest swordsman in the land.
^
Hakuin
used to tell his pupils about an old woman who had a teashop, praising her
understanding of Zen. The pupils refused to believe what he told them and
would go to the teashop to find out for themselves.
Whenever the woman saw them coming she could tell at once whether they had
come for tea or to look into her grasp of Zen. In the former case, she
would serve them graciously. In the latter, she would beckon the pupils to
come behind her screen. The instant they obeyed, she would strike them
with a fire-poker.
Nine
out of ten of them could not escape her beating.
^
Encho
was a famous storyteller. His tales of love stirred the hearts of his
listeners. When he narrated a story of war, it was as if the listeners
themselves were in the field of battle.
One day
Encho met Yamaoka Tesshu, a layman who had almost embraced masterhood of
Zen. "I understand," said Yamaoka, "you ar the best storyteller in out
land and that you make people cry or laugh at will. Tell me my favorite
story of the Peach Boy. When I was a little tot I used to sleep beside my
mother, and she often related this legend. In the middle of the story I
would fall asleep. Tell it to me just as my mother did."
Encho
dared not attempt this. He requested time to study. Several months later
he went to Yamaoka and said: "Please give me the opportunity to tell you
the story."
"Some
other day," answered Yamaoka.
Encho
was keenly disappointed. He studied further and tried again. Yamaoka
rejected him many times. When Encho would start to talk Yamaoka would stop
him, saying: "You are not yet like my mother."
It took
Encho five years to be able to tell Yamaoka the legend as his mother had
told it to him.
In this
way, Yamaoka imparted Zen to Encho.
^
Many
pupils were studying meditation under the Zen master Sengai. One of them
used to arise at night, climb over the temple wall, and go to town on a
pleasure jaunt.
Sengai,
inspecting the dormitory quarters, found this pupil missing one night and
also discovered the high stool he had used to scale the wall. Sengai
removed the stool and stood there in its place.
When
the wanderer returned, not knowing that Sengai was the stool, he put his
feet on the master's head and jumped down into the grounds. Discovering
what he had done, he was aghast.
Sengai
said: "It is very chilly in the early morning. Do be careful not to catch
cold yourself."
The
pupil never went out at night again.
^
Bassui
wrote the following letter to one of his disciples who was about to die:
"The
essence of your mind is not born, so it will never die. It is not an
existance, which is perishable. It is not an emptiness, which is a mere
void. It has neither color nor form. It enjoys no pleasures and suffers no
pains.
"I know
you are very ill. Like a good Zen student, you are facing that sickness
squarely. You may not know exactly who is suffering, but question
yourself: What is the essence of this mind? Think only of this. You will
need no more. Covet nothing. Your end which is endless is as a snowflake
dissolving in the pure air."
^
A Zen
master named Gisan asked a young student to bring him a pail of water to
cool his bath.
The
student brought the water and, after cooling the bath, threw on to the
ground the little that was left over.
"You
dunce!" the master scolded him. "Why didn't you give the rest of the water
to the plants? What right have you to waste even one drop of water in this
temple?"
The
young student attained Zen in that instant. He changed his name to
Tekisui, which means a drop of water.
^
In
early times in Japan, bamboo-and-paper lanterns were used with candles
inside. A blind man, visiting a friend one night, was offered a lantern to
carry home with him.
"I do
not need a lantern," he said. "Darkness or light is all the same to me."
"I know
you do not need a lantern to find your way," his friend replied, "but if
you don't have one, someone else may run into you. So you must take it."
The
blind man started off with the lantern and before he had walked very far
someone ran squarely into him. "Look out where you are going!" he
exclaimed to the stranger. "Can't you see this lantern?"
"Your
candle has burned out, brother," replied the stranger.
^
Kitano
Gempo, abbot of Eihei temple, was ninely-two years old when he passed away
in the year 1933. He endeavored his whole life not to be attached to
anything. As a wandering mendicant when he was twenty he happened to meet
a traveler who smoked tobacco. As they walked together down a mountain
road, they stopped under a tree to rest. The traveler offered Kitano a
smoke, which he accepted, as he was very hungry at the time.
"How
pleasant this smoking is," he commented. The other gave him an extra pipe
and tobacco and they parted.
Kitano
felt: "Such pleasant things may disturb meditation. Before this goes too
far, I will stop now." So he threw the smoking outfit away.
When he
was twenty-three years old he studied I-King, the profoundest doctrine of
the universe. It was winter at the time and he needed some heavy clothes.
He wrote his teacher, who lived a hundred miles away, telling him of his
need, and gave the letter to a traveler to deliver. Almost the whole
winter passed and neither answer nor clothes arrived. So Kitano resorted
to the prescience of I-King, which also teaches the art of divination, to
determine whether or not his letter had miscarried. He found that this had
been the case. A letter afterwards from his teacher made no mention of
clothes.
"If I
perform such accurate determinative work with I-King, I may neglect my
meditation," felt Kitano. So he gave up this marvelous teaching and never
resorted to its powers again.
When he
was twenty-eight he studied Chinese calligraphy and poetry. He grew so
skillful in these arts that his teacher praised him. Kitano mused: "If I
don't stop now, I'll be a poet, not a Zen teacher." So he never wrote
another poem.
^
Tosui
was the Zen master who left the formalism of temples to live under a
bridge with beggars. When he was getting very old, a friend helped him to
earn his living without begging. He showed Tosui how to collect rice and
manufacture vinegar from it, and Tosui did this until he passed away.
While
Tosui was making vinegar, one of the beggars gave him a picture of the
Buddha. Tosui hung it on the wall of his hut and put a sign beside it. The
sign read:
Mr.
Amida Buddha: This little room is quite narrow. I can let you remain as a
transient. But don't think I am asking you to be reborn in your paradise.
^
Shoichi
was a one-eyed teacher of Zen, sparkling with enlightenment. He taught his
disciples in Tofuku temple.
Day and
night the whole temple stood in silence. There was no sound at all.
Even
the reciting of sutras was abolished by the teacher. His pupils had
nothing to do but meditate.
When
the master passed away, an old neighbor heard the ringing of bells and the
recitation of sutras. Then she knew Shoichi had gone.
^
Buddha
said: "I consider the positions of kings and rulers as that of dust motes.
I observe treasures of gold and gems as so many bricks and pebbles. I look
upon the finest silken robes as tattered rags. I see myriad worlds of the
universe as small seeds of fruit, and the greatest lake in India as a drop
of oil on my foot. I perceive the teachings of the world to be the
illusion of magicians. I discern the highest conception of emancipation as
a golden brocade in a dream, and view the holy path of the illuminated
ones as flowers appearing in one's eyes. I see meditation as a pillar of a
mountain, Nirvana as a nightmare of daytime. I look upon the judgment of
right and wrong as the serpentine dance of a dragon, and the rise and fall
of beliefs as but traces left by the four seasons."
^
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Contents
[1 -20] [21-40]
[41-60] [61-80]
[81-101]
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Update : 01-12-2002
