The First and Second Chinese Ancestors did not found monasteries, so they were not occupied by grass cutting. Nor did the Third and Fourth Ancestors. Thus they remained free of administrative duties. The Fifth and Sixth Ancestors did not build their own monasteries. Neither did Qingyuan nor Nanyue.
Shitou did zazen on a large rock where he had a thatched hut. He sat continuously without sleeping day and night. Although he did not ignore work, he did not fail to do zazen throughout the day. Nowadays the descendants of his teacher Qingyuan are spread throughout China, benefiting humans and devas. This is due to the great determination and solid, continuous practice of Shitou. The current Yunmen and Fayan lines are also descended from Shitou.
When Daoxin, who would later become Zen Master Dayi, the Fourth Chinese Ancestor, was fourteen, he met Sengcan, the Third Chinese Ancestor, and then labored for nine years. After inheriting the authentic teaching of buddha ancestors, Daoxin kept his mind gathered and did not sleep with his side on the mat for almost sixty years. In his guidance he did not discriminate between enemies and friends, so his virtue prevailed among humans and devas.
In the sixteenth year of the Zhenguan Era [642], Emperor Tai, in admiration of Daoxin’s flavor of the way, invited him to the capital, wishing to test the hue of his dharma. Daoxin respectfully declined three times, claiming ill health. At the fourth summons, the Emperor ordered the messenger to cut off Daoxin’s head if he declined again. The messenger saw Daoxin and relayed the imperial order to him. With complete composure Daoxin stretched out his neck and made ready for the sword. Extremely impressed, the messenger went back to the capital and wrote a report to the Emperor, who admired Daoxin even more. He expressed his appreciation by sending Daoxin a gift of rare silk.
Thus, the continuous practice of Daoxin, who was not attached to his bodily life as bodily life and tried to avoid becoming intimate with kings and ministers, is something rarely encountered in a thousand years. Because Emperor Tai was a just king, Daoxin had nothing against him. The Emperor admired Daoxin because he did not spare his own bodily life and was willing to die. Daoxin focused on his continuous practice, not without reason but with respect for the passage of time. Compared with the current tendency in this declining age when many people try to find favor with the emperors, Daoxin’s refusal of the three imperial requests is remarkable.
On the fourth day, the intercalary ninth month, the second year of the Yonghui Era [651] during the reign of Emperor Gao, Daoxin gave instruction to his students, saying, “All things are liberated. You should guard your mind and teach future generations.”
After saying this, he sat at ease and passed away. He was seventy-two years old. A stupa was built for him on the mountain. On the eighth day of the fourth month of the following year, the door to the stupa opened of itself, and inside it, his body looked as if he were alive. After that his students kept the door open.
Know Daoxin’s words: All things are liberated. It is not merely that all things are empty or all things are all things, but that all things are liberated. Daoxin had continuous practice before and after entering the stupa. To assume that all living beings die is a narrow view. To assume that the dead do not perceive is a limited idea. Do not follow these views when you study the way. There may be those who go beyond death. There may be dead people who perceive.
Xuansha, who would later become Great Master Zongyi, was from Min Prefecture, Fu Region. His family name was Xie and his dharma name was Shibei. He was fond of dropping a fishing line ever since he was little. Later he supported himself by fishing from a tiny boat on the River Nantai. At the beginning of the Xiantong Era [860–874] of the Tang Dynasty, when he was thirty, he had an urge to leave the dusty world. So he gave up his boat, went to see Furong, Zen Master Lingxun, and dropped his hair. He received the monk precepts from Precept Master Daoxuan of the Kaiyuan Monastery in Jiangnan. He wore a simple cotton robe and straw sandals, ate barely enough to sustain life, and sat zazen all day long. People thought him extraordinary.
Xuansha was originally a dharma brother of Xuefeng Yicun, but studied with him closely as a student. Xuefeng called him Ascetic Bei [Shibei] because of his rigorous practice.
One day Xuefeng asked, “Where is Ascetic Bei heading?”
Xuansha said, “He is not misleading anyone.”
Later, Xuefeng called Xuansha and asked, “Why doesn’t Ascetic Bei travel all around to study?”
Xuansha said, “Bodhidharma didn’t come to China. The Second Ancestor didn’t go to India.”
Xuefeng approved his words.
When Xuefeng became abbot on Mount Xianggu, later called Mount Xuefeng, Xuansha accompanied him as his assistant. Because of their collaboration, many excellent students assembled in the monastery. Xuansha continued to enter the abbot’s room to receive guidance from before dawn till late at night. Students who lacked decisive understanding would ask Xuansha to go with them to see Xuefeng. Sometimes Xuefeng would say to them, “Why don’t you ask Ascetic Bei?” As caring as Xuefeng, Xuansha would not hesitate to respond to Xuefeng’s request.
Without Xuansha’s outstanding continuous practice, such dedication would not have been possible. The continuous practice of sitting zazen all day long is rare. While there are many who run around after sound and form, there are few who sit zazen all day long. Those of you who come later should fear wasting your remaining time and endeavor to sit zazen the whole day.
Changqing, Priest Huileng, was a revered teacher under Xuefeng. He visited and practiced with Xuefeng and Xuansha for almost twenty-nine years. During this time he wore out twenty sitting mats. Those who love zazen nowadays regard Changqing as an excellent ancient example. There are many who long for him but few who measure up to him. His three-decade endeavor was not without results; he suddenly had great awakening when he was rolling up a bamboo shade.
He did not go back to his hometown to see his relations or chat with his fellow students for thirty years. He practiced single-mindedly and continuously, questioning over and over without negligence. What a sharp capacity! What a great root! We learn from sutras about those who have solid determination. But those of you who seek what should be sought and are ashamed of what should be ashamed of need to encounter Changqing. Unfortunately, there are many who do not have way-seeking mind, are poor in conduct, and are bound by fame and gain.
Guishan, who would later become Zen Master Dayuan, went to the steep and rocky Mount Gui immediately after receiving a confirmation of enlightenment from Baizhang. He mingled with birds and beasts, assembled a thatched hut, and tempered his practice. While living on acorns and chestnuts, he was not intimidated by storms or snow. Without temple or property, he actualized continuous practice for forty years. Later this place became a monastery renowned throughout China, where excellent practitioners like dragons and elephants came to follow in his footsteps.
If you vow to establish a temple, do not be swayed by human concerns, but maintain the strict continuous practice of buddha dharma. Where the practice is tempered, even without a [monks’] hall, is a place of enlightenment of old buddhas. The teaching given outdoors under a tree may be heard afar. Such a place can be a sacred domain for a long time. Indeed, the continuous practice of one person will merge with the place of the way of all buddhas.
Foolish people in this declining age are consumed with erecting magnificent temple buildings. Buddha ancestors have never wished for such temple buildings. You uselessly decorate the halls before you clarify your own eye. Rather than making offerings to buddhas, you are turning the house of all buddhas into a pitfall of fame and gain. Quietly ponder the continuous practice of the ancient Guishan. In order to do this, identify yourself with Guishan.
The sobbing rain of deep night pierces moss and pierces rock. On a snowy night of winter when even animals are rarely seen, how could the aromas from people’s houses reach you? This kind of search is impossible without the continuous practice of taking your own life lightly and regarding dharma as precious. Without cu
tting grass or moving earth and lumber, Guishan was fully engaged in tempering practice of the way.
What a deep feeling we have for him! With what great determination the hardship was endured by the authentic heir transmitting the true dharma on the steep mountain! It is said about Mount Gui that there is a pond and a brook where ice accumulates and fog becomes dense. It is not an inviting place for retreat, but it is where Guishan’s practice of the buddha way and the depth of the mountains were merged and renewed.
Continuous practice is not something we should take casually. If we do not repay the gift of the hardship of Guishan’s continuous practice, how can we, who aspire to study, identify with him as if he were sitting in front of us? Due to the power and the guiding merit of his continuous practice, the wheel of air [a layer upon which the world is settled] is not upset, the world is not broken, the palace of devas is calm, and human lands are maintained.
Although we are not direct descendants of Guishan, he is an ancestor of the teaching. Later, Yangshan went to study and attend him. Yangshan, who had studied with Baizhang, was like Shariputra, who gave one hundred answers to ten questions. Attending Guishan, he spent three years watching over a buffalo. This kind of continuous practice has been cut off and not seen in recent years. Such a statement by Yangshan as “spending three years watching over a buffalo” cannot otherwise be heard.
Ancestor Daokai of Mount Furong is a true source of actualizing continuous practice. Offered a purple robe and the title of Zen Master Dingzhao by the Emperor, he did not accept them. His letter declining them upset the Emperor, but Daokai persisted in refusing these honors. When he had a hut on Mount Furong, hundreds of monks and laypeople gathered there. The flavor of his one daily bowl of watery gruel, which drove most of them away, is still talked about.
Once, Daokai vowed never to go to a feast and said to the assembly:
Home leavers should not avoid hardship. Seeking freedom from birth and death, rest your mind, stop worrying, and cut off dependence on relations. That’s why you are called home leavers. How can you receive luxurious offerings and be immersed in ordinary life? You should cast off this, that, and everything in between. Regard whatever you see and hear as a flower planted on a rock. When you encounter fame and gain, regard them as a dust mote in your eye.
It is not that fame and gain haven’t been experienced or known from beginningless time; rather they are like the head that cannot help seeing the tail. Why should you struggle and long for them? If you don’t stop longing now, when will you? Thus, the ancient sages teach you to let go right at this very moment. If you do so, what will remain? If you attain calmness of mind, buddha ancestors will be like something extra and all the things in the world will be inevitably flameless and plain. Only then can you merge with the place of suchness.
Don’t you see? Yinshan [Longshan] did not see anyone throughout his life. Zhaozhou did not speak one phrase throughout his life. Biandan picked acorns for his meals. Fachang made a robe of lotus leaves. Ascetic Zhiyi only wore paper. Senior Monk Xuantai only wore cotton. Shishuang Qingzhu built a hall and practiced with the assembly of those who sat like dead trees [without lying down]. What you need to do is let your mind perish.
Touzi Datong asked his students to wash the rice that he cooked together with them. Thus, what you need to do is to minimize your concerns. This is how the ancient sages encouraged themselves. Had they not thought their practices worthwhile, they would not have simplified their daily activities. Practitioners, if you have realization with your whole body, you will be a person of no lack. If you don’t hit the mark, you will waste your effort.
Daokai continued:
I have become head of this monastery in spite of having achieved nothing worth mentioning. How can I sit on this seat and neglect the trust of the ancient sages? I want to follow the example of the teachers of old who were abbots of monasteries. After consulting with all of you, I have decided not to go out of the monastery, attend feasts, or ask for donations. We will divide one year’s harvest from our fields into three-hundred-sixty-day portions and use them accordingly. But we will not reduce the number of monks in the assembly. When there is enough rice, we will cook rice. When there is not enough, we will make gruel by adding water. When there is less rice, we will make watery gruel. When we accept new monks, we will serve tea that is nothing special. Tea will be made ready in the tea room for all to serve themselves. We will do only what is essential, eliminating all the rest, in order to concentrate on the endeavor of the way.
Here, the livelihood is complete and the landscape is not dull. Flowers smile and birds sing. Wooden horses whine and stone oxen run. Green mountains far away are faint and spring water nearby is soundless. Monkeys on the mountain ridges chatter and dewdrops wet the midnight moon. Cranes caw in the forests and the winds swirl around the dawn pines. When spring wind rises, a dead tree roars like a dragon. At the time of falling leaves, the shivering forest scatters blossoms. The jewel steps delineate moss patterns. Human faces take on shades of mist. Sounds are serene. Remote from worldly affairs, this one taste is subtle—nothing in particular.
Today I am supposed to present the gate of the house to all of you. This is already off the track. Even so, I go on lecturing and giving instructions in the abbot’s room. I take up a mallet and swing a whisk. I shout to the east and strike the west. My face grimaces as if I were having a seizure. I feel as if I were belittling you students and betraying the ancient sages.
Don’t you see? Bodhidharma came from India, got to the foot of Shaoshi Peak, and faced the wall for nine years. Huike stood in the snow and cut off his arm. What hardship! Bodhidharma did not say a word and Huike did not ask a question. But can you call Bodhidharma a person of not doing? Can you regard Huike as not seeking a master? Whenever I speak about examples of ancient sages, I feel there is no place to hide. I am ashamed that we who come later are so soft and weak.
These days, people make offerings of a hundred flavors to others and say, “As I have fulfilled the four types of offerings to monks, I feel ready to arouse the aspiration for enlightenment.” But I fear that such people do not know how to move their hands and legs, and will be separated from the reality of birth and death of the world. Time flies like an arrow and their regret may be deep.
There are times when others have awakened me with their merit. But I am not forcing you to follow my advice. Have you seen this verse by a teacher of old?
Rice without millet from fields in the mountains,
yellow pickled vegetables—
eat as you like.
Otherwise, leave it to east and west.
Please, fellow travelers, each of you make an effort.
Take care.
These words of Daokai are the bones and marrow of the ancestral school, transmitted person to person. Although there are many examples of Daokai’s continuous practice, I am only presenting this talk. Those of us who come after Daokai should long for and study the continuous practice he tempered on Mount Furong. It was the genuine form and spirit of Shakyamuni Buddha at Jeta Grove.
Mazu, who would later become Zen Master Daji of the Kaiyuan Monastery, Hong Region, Jiangxi, was from Shifang Prefecture, Han Region. His priest name is Daoyi. He studied with Nanyue and was his attendant for over ten years. Once he was about to visit his hometown and got halfway there but turned around and went back to the monastery. When he returned, he offered incense and bowed to Nanyue, who wrote a verse for him:
Let me advise you not to go home.
At home the way is not practiced.
Old women in the neighborhood
would call you by your childhood name.
Respectfully receiving these dharma words, Mazu made a vow not to go in the direction of Han Region in this or any other lifetime. Not taking one step closer to his old home, Mazu stayed in Jiangxi and traveled all over the region. Other than speaking of “Mind itself is buddha,” he did not give any words of guidance. However, he was an authentic heir of Nanyue, a life
vein for humans and devas.
What is the meaning of not to go home? How does one not go home? Returning to east, west, south, or north is no more than the falling and rising of the self. Indeed, the way is not practiced by going home. Practice continuously, examining whether the way is practiced or not, either by going home or not going home. Why is the way not practiced by going home? Is the way hindered by not practicing? Is it hindered by the self?
Nanyue did not say, “Old women in the neighborhood might call you by your childhood name.” But he did say, Old women in the neighborhood would call you by your childhood name. Why did he say so? Why did Mazu accept these dharma words? Because when you go south, the earth goes south. Other directions are also like this. It is a narrow view to deny this point by seeing Mount Sumeru or the great ocean as merely large and separate from you, or to miss this point by using the sun, the moon, and stars as a measure for comparison.
Treasury of the True Dharma Eye Page 50