by Peter Haskel
The Master said: “That is your discrimination. Realize what is before discrimination.”
On yet another occasion, Jōsen said: “I feel fortunate that my determination has been particularly strong of late.”
The Master replied: “Such things too are bound to happen.”
Once the Zen teacher Tairyō8 said [to Jōsen]: “You seem to be earnest, but you’re always [repeating] the same thing.”9
Jōsen said: “Not at all. It’s simply something I never tire of hearing.”
Just then, the Master came out and took his seat. “Whenever you have the chance to hear this,” he said, “it’s worth hearing, no matter how many times; so don’t think it’s [just a repetition of] the same thing. When you feel something is valuable, then every time you hear it it’s valuable.”
(zenshū, pp. 131–132.)
The gambler
In Aboshi there was a man named Hachirōbei. He said [to the Master]: “As a member of the True Pure Land Sect, I rely wholeheartedly on the Tathagata Amida, and knowing his saving grace to be certain, I recite the nembutsu of gratitude.”
The Master replied: “If, praying for Amida’s saving grace, you constantly go around gambling and doing all sorts of evil things, that’s like cheating Amida.”
At the time, this Hachirōbei was a notorious gambler. Those present were all impressed.
(zenshū, p. 132.)
Miracles
On another occasion, Hachirōbei came and said: “The teachers of old performed all sorts of miracles. Can your Reverence perform miracles too?”
The Master replied: “What sort of things were these ‘miracles?’”
Hachirōbei said: “In Echigo, the founder of the True Pure Land Sect10 had someone hold up a piece of paper on one side of the river, and when he took up his brush on the opposite bank, he perfectly inscribed the six characters namu amida butsu, so that to this day everyone speaks reverently of the ’nembutsu that crossed the river.’ ”
The Master laughed and said: “If that’s the sort of thing you mean, people who practice magic and the like can do even better! Really, to bring up the doings of such people in a place for the true teaching of Buddhism is [like] trying to compare dogs and cats to men.”
(zenshū, p. 132.)
A visiting monk
Several visiting monks came, and at their interview with the Master each presented his understanding. Among them was one fellow who remained silent. The Master said: “Well, how about you?”
The monk said: “As for me, when cold, I put on more clothes; when hungry, I take something to eat; when thirsty, I drink some hot water; other than that—nothing.”
The Master said: “Well, in that case, can you tell the degree of understanding of the people who are here now?”
The monk replied: “Certainly I can.”
The Master said: “How does it look to you, then, the understanding of the people around you here?”
The monk said: “You show me my understanding.”
The Master replied: “Everything we’ve been discussing [shows] your understanding.”
The monk prostrated himself three times and went off.
(zenshū, p. 132.)
Being/non-being
A visiting monk came forward and declared: “It’s not in being, it’s not in non-being, it’s not in absolute emptiness.”
The Master said: “Right at this moment, where is it?”
Completely flustered, the monk withdrew.
(zenshū, p. 133.)
Why are we born?
A layman asked: “If we’re endowed with the Buddha Mind, why is it we don’t remain buddhas, but are born and experience all sorts of suffering?”
The Master said: “That you came to be born is your parents’ mistake.”
(zenshū, p. 133.)
The one who sees and hears
A layman asked: “For years now I’ve entrusted myself to the teaching of the old masters, [trying to answer the question] Who is the one who sees and hears?’11 What sort of practice can I do to find ‘the one who sees and hears’? I’ve searched and searched, but today I still haven’t found him.”
The Master said: “Since my school is the School of Buddha Mind, there’s no duality between ‘the one who sees and hears’ and the one who searches [for him]. If you search outside, you’ll never find him, even if you travel the whole world through. The One Mind, unborn—this is ‘the one’ that, in everybody, sees images in the eyes, hears sounds in the ears and, generally, when it encounters the objects of the six senses, reveals whatever is seen or heard, felt or thought, with nothing left concealed.”
(zenshū, p. 133.)
The woman afraid of thunder
A woman asked: “I’m uncommonly frightened of thunder, and the moment I hear it, I feel awful and suffer miserably.12 Please teach me how I can stop being afraid like this.”
The Master said: “When you were born, there was no sense of being afraid of things, there was only the Unborn Buddha Mind. Deluded notions of being afraid of things are phantoms of thought created after you were born. Thunder causes rain to fall on the world for the benefit of mankind; it’s not something that’s hostile to people. Your regarding that thunder as something to be afraid of is the doing of those phantoms of thought, it’s not due to anything outside. When you hear the thunder, you should have absolute faith in your own mind’s buddhahood.”
(zenshū, p. 133.)
Bereavement
A woman questioned the Master: “I am miserable over the death of my child. If I even see a child the same age, it reminds me of him, and then all sorts of things fill my mind and my deluded thoughts go on and on. Please teach me.”
The Master said: “When you recall things like this, it’s something you are doing. In the original mind, there’s not even a trace of different delusions. Have faith in what I’m saying, and you’ll become a person who’s originally free.”
(zenshū, pp. 133–134.)
Blinding your eyes
A visiting monk asked: “Is there any merit in practicing zazen?”
The Master said: “Zazen isn’t to be despised, nor are reciting sutras, performing prostrations and so on. Tokusan used the stick, Rinzai uttered the katsu!, Gutei raised his finger and Daruma faced the wall—but, while different, all these were just the masters’ expedients, methods to confront particular situations and deal with the individual needs [of the students involved]. Right from the start, there have never been fixed rules. If you take these [temporary expedients] as invariable teachings, you’ll be blinding your own eyes. Simply have firm faith in what I say, remaining as you innately are without making idle distinctions, just like when things are reflected in a mirror, and then there’s nothing in the world you won’t penetrate through and through. Do not doubt!”
(zenshū, p. 134.)
Everything is smoothly managed
A Zen monk from Tamba asked: “It’s my sincere desire on this occasion to realize buddhahood and become a perfect person in all respects. Please let me have your instruction.”
The Master said: “You’ve come a long distance, but while these aspirations of yours are commendable, they’re all delusion. In original mind, there are no delusions, no aspirations. In the intrinsic, marvelously illuminating dynamic function, there aren’t any aspirations at all, and yet everything is smoothly managed. Even wanting to attain buddhahood right away is something artificial. When you realize that you’re producing all aspirations yourself and, without getting involved with particular things, remain just as you innately are, your own intrinsic nature will be revealed.”
(zenshū, p. 134.)
Where do you go?
A layman asked: “If you become a buddha, where do you go?”
The Master replied: “If you become a buddha, there’s no place at all to go. You fill the vast universe13 to its very limits. It’s when you become any other sort of being that there are different places to go.”
(zenshū, p. 134.)
Once the Master said: “Unlike the other masters everywhere, in my teaching I don’t set up any particular object, such as realizing enlightenment or studying koans. Nor do I rely on the words of the buddhas and patriarchs. I just point things out directly, so there’s nothing to hold onto, and that’s why no one will readily accept [what I teach]. To begin with, those who are wise and learned are obstructed by their own cleverness and calculation, so for them it’s impossible to accept. On the other hand, there are lots of ignorant women who can neither read nor write, who haven’t any special ability and can’t be pushed on to become Zen masters, but possess a truly heartfelt realization and don’t engage in intellectualizing.”
He added: “Even if there’s no one who accepts it completely, my teaching is like a golden ball that’s been smashed to pieces and scattered about, so that anyone who gets one piece has one piece of illumination, anyone who gets two pieces, two pieces of illumination, and so on, bit by bit, with no one who won’t benefit according to his own portion [of attainment].
(zenshū, pp. 134–135.)
Thinking
A layman asked: “I’ve heard that your Reverence is able to see into people’s minds. Right at this moment, what am I thinking?”
The Master said: “You’re thinking precisely that.”
(zenshū, p. 135.)
Women
A woman asked: “I’ve heard that because women bear a heavy karmic burden it’s impossible for them to realize buddhahood. Is this true?”
The Master said: “From what time did you become a ‘woman?’ ”
A woman said: “Because women bear a heavy karmic burden, they are forbidden from entering esteemed temples like Mount Koya14 and Mount Hiei.”15
The Master told her: “In Kamakura there’s a temple for nuns,16 and there men are forbidden.”
(zenshū, p. 135.)
The merchant’s dream
When the Master was staying at the Ryōmonji, a lay acquaintance of Zenkō17 from Ōmi18 came to the temple and remained for some time. At his first interview with the Master, he accepted the essentials of his teaching, and thereafter simply followed along with the others, listening to the Master’s sermons.
Once, when the Master was receiving a group of new arrivals in the abbot’s quarters, this layman came forward and said: “My home is such-and-such a village in the province of Ōmi. Originally I was a rōnin, and, taking what savings I had in gold and silver, I lent out money and grain to the people of the area and with the interest on these loans made my living. However, a little over ten years ago, I left my business to my son, and, building a retreat in my garden, devoted myself to performing zazen and reciting sutras. I also went to study with various Zen masters, practicing single-mindedly. Zenkō is well-acquainted with these things.
“However, last night, in a dream, I found myself back at home, reading sutras at the household shrine. Just then, a customer who had borrowed some rice came to pay his interest, and together with my son set about calculating the amount. In the midst of reading the sutras, I realized there was an error in their calculations, and just as I was telling them of it, I suddenly awoke from my dream. Thinking over this, [I realize] just how deep and difficult to destroy are the roots of karmic nature. What sort of practice can I do to destroy my basic sinfulness?”
The layman was moved to tears by the strength of his feelings. Everyone present was impressed.
The Master said: “Was this a good dream or a bad dream?”
The layman replied: “A bad dream. It was for this that more than twenty years ago I abandoned all mercenary affairs to dwell in oneness with buddhadharma, in circumstances of purity and tranquility, far from the tumult of worldly life. This is the sort of thing I [would expect to] see in my dreams; yet I’m afraid the fact that what came to me were my old concerns of twenty years ago shows these things have permeated my innermost mind,19 and that distresses me.”
The Master said: “This is what’s known as being had by a dream.”
The layman rose and prostrated himself. “Today for the first time,” he declared, “I have been freed from endless kalpas of birth and death!” And, reeling with joy, he went off.
(zenshū, p. 136.)
It’s fine just to feel that way
A layman said: “I sometimes feel startled when I’m surprised by some sound, such as a clap of thunder. Is this because I’m not in control all the time? How can I guard against this so that, no matter what happens, I won’t feel startled?”
The Master said: “If you feel startled, it’s fine just to feel that way. When you try to guard against it, you’re creating duality.”
(zenshū, p. 136.)
Using the three inches
A monk asked: “Tokusan has his stick, Rinzai, his shout20—all the old masters employed the stick and the shout, but your Reverence doesn’t use them at all. How do you explain this?”
The Master said: “Tokusan and Rinzai knew how to use the stick and the shout; I know how to use the three inches [of my tongue].”
(zenshū, p. 136.)
Koans
A monk asked: “[Former masters] such as Engo and Daie21 used koans in teaching their students. How is it your Reverence makes no use of them?”
The Master said: “How about the Zen teachers before Daie and Engo, did they use koans?”22
(zenshū, p. 137.)
The great doubt
A monk asked: “The men of old declared that with a great doubt one will experience a great enlightenment. How is it your Reverence doesn’t make use of the great doubt of the masters?”
The Master replied: “As to what’s meant by ‘great doubt’: long ago when Nangaku23 went to see the Sixth Patriarch, he was asked by him, ‘What is it that comes thus?’ Nangaku was utterly flustered, but puzzling over this for eight years, [finally] answered: ‘As soon as you speak about a thing, you miss the mark.’ This is the real great doubt and great enlightenment. For example, when a monk loses his only kesa24 and, searching and searching, can’t put it out of his mind for even a moment—that’s real doubt! People nowadays go stirring up doubt just because they say the old masters did, so what they produce is an imitation doubt. Because this doubt isn’t genuine, they won’t have any day of awakening. It’s just as if they were to search all over, thinking they’d lost something that had never been lost at all.”
(zenshū, p. 137.)
Is this buddha?
[When the Master] was at the Gyokuryōji25 in Mino, a layman came forward, gave a shout and demanded: “Is this buddha?”
The Master took his fan and pressing it against the fellow’s head, [said]: “Do you know what this is?”
The layman replied: “This is buddha.”
Once more taking up his fan, the Master poked it into the layman’s cheek, saying: “You only know the name buddha.”
Utterly taken aback, the fellow withdrew.
(zenshū, p. 137.)
Layman Chōzen
Chōzen,26 father of the monk Jiton of the Osaka Kanzanji27 and [formerly] headman of the village of Taima in Washū,28 lived in retirement and was known as a longtime student of Zen. For many years he had been a follower of the Ōbaku Zen Master Ryūkei29 and was famous as a lay Buddhist. He would also come frequently to visit the Master at the Kanzanji, but they knew each other so well that [the Master] had never engaged him in dialogue to actually test his understanding. Once when the Master was at the Jizōji in Kyoto, Chōzen came to see him, and in the course of his visit, the Master said: “Well, Chōzen, how is your practice?”
Chōzen replied: “I’ve been completing my practice in a rather extraordinary way: I regularly eat fish and meat, I drink wine, I gamble at go; I go to sleep, I get up—my world is free and easy and without constraint.”
The Master said: “You probably won’t listen, but let me tell you my style [of Zen].” And, so saying, he instructed [Chōzen]. Chōzen withdrew in silence and stayed the night, sharing the quarters o
f the monk Soboku,30 who reported that he seemed agitated the whole evening and had not slept at all.
At that time, it was the turn of the Zen Master Bokuō31 to assume the abbacy of the headquarters temple,32 and the Master set off before daybreak to pay his respects. A servant came back with word that the Master would return at sundown. Just as Soboku and Chōzen came out together to the entryway to meet him, the Master passed by, [going] directly into the abbot’s quarters and proceeding to the inner room, where he seated himself. Chōzen immediately went before the Master and prostrated himself three times.
The Master joined his palms and said: “I accept the bow [that acknowledges] the constant observance of religious abstention.33 This is the way it must be for one who takes refuge in the buddhadharma.”
Once again Chōzen prostrated himself three times.
The Master said: “I receive the bow [that acknowledges] abstention from wine. This too is the way it must be, since it is the rule established by the Buddha.”
Chōzen said: “Master Reigan always praised you as a clear-eyed teacher, but I couldn’t believe it. The men of old were like this, but I never dreamed that among the teachers of today there could be anyone whose eyes were clear. ‘Disgusting!’ I thought skeptically. Now I’ve seen how wrong I was, having met with this undreamed-of opportunity.” And, shedding tears, he became the Master’s disciple.
Some time after this, when the Master was once again stopping at the Kanzanji, Jiton and Chōzen came to see him, and Jiton humbly expressed his gratitude, saying: “Because of your Reverence’s kind instruction, Chōzen has become a man of perfect freedom in all his daily activities.”34