佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄

Part 9

CASE EIGHTY-ONE

YAOSHAN SHOOTS A DEER

POINTER: Snatching the banner and seizing the drum, a thousand sages cannot fathom it. Cutting off delusion, the myriad workings cannot reach it. It is neither marvelous supernatural function nor the fundamental essence as such. Tell me, on what does one rely to attain such extraordinary distinction?

CASE: A monk asked Yaoshan, “On level ground where the grass is low, there are herds of deer. How can one shoot the deer of all deer?” Yaoshan said, “Watch the arrow!” The monk immediately fell down. Yaoshan said, “Where is the attendant? Drag this dead fellow outside and have a look.” The monk then departed. Yaoshan said, “When will fellows who play with mud like this ever be done?”

Xuedou remarked, “Though alive for three steps, within five steps he must die.”

COMMENTARY: In the Caodong school, this koan is called “asking by borrowing an affair.” It is also called “a question for discerning the host.” This kind of koan is used to elucidate the transformative working manifest in the present moment. Ordinarily, deer are very easy to shoot. But this particular deer constantly sharpens its antlers against cliffs, so its antlers are as keen as swords. It uses its own body to protect the herd, so that even tigers cannot approach.

This monk was also very alert. He brought up this matter to question Yaoshan and elucidate the first potential. Yaoshan said, “Watch the arrow!” He was indeed an expert master—utterly extraordinary, like a spark struck from flint or a flash of lightning.

Have you not heard the story of when Sanping first went to visit Shigong? As soon as Shigong saw Sanping approaching, he made as if drawing a bow and said, “Watch the arrow!” Sanping bared his chest and said, “Is this an arrow that kills, or an arrow that gives life?” Shigong said, “For thirty years, with one bow and two arrows, today I have managed to shoot only half a sage.” He then broke his bow and arrows.

Later, Sanping related this to Datian. Datian said, “If it was an arrow that gives life, why did you still rely upon the bow to distinguish it?” Sanping was unable to reply. Datian said, “Thirty years from now, it will be very difficult to find someone who can relate these words.”

Fadeng composed a verse:

Shigong’s strategy was exactly like Yaoshan’s. Sanping had eyes atop his head, so with a single phrase he struck the target. It was just like Yaoshan saying, “Watch the arrow!” That monk then pretended to be a deer and fell down.

That monk, too, could be counted an expert, but he had a head and no tail. He set a pitfall, intending to trap Yaoshan. But how could he succeed when Yaoshan was an expert who continued pressing him?

When Yaoshan said, “Where is the attendant? Drag this dead fellow outside and have a look,” it was as though the master had deployed his battle lines before him. The monk then departed.

It was right as far as it went, but he was not yet free and untrammeled; his hands and feet were still entangled. Therefore Yaoshan said, “When will fellows who play with mud like this ever be done?” If Yaoshan had not made this concluding remark at that time, he might have been criticized by everyone throughout the ages.

Yaoshan said, “Watch the arrow!” and the monk immediately fell down. Tell me, did he understand or not? If you say that he understood, why did Yaoshan call him one of those fellows who play with mud? This seems exceedingly severe.

A monk asked Deshan, “What is it like when a student holds the Moye sword and intends to take the master’s head?” Deshan extended his neck and shouted. The monk said, “Your head has fallen.” Deshan lowered his head and returned to the abbot’s quarters. Yantou asked a monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk said, “From the Western Capital.” Yantou asked, “Since the Huang Chao rebellion, has the sword been recovered?” The monk said, “It has.” Yantou thrust his neck forward and shouted. The monk said, “Your head has fallen.” Yantou burst into laughter. These koans are all mechanisms for trapping tigers, just like this koan. Yaoshan saw through that monk and thus simply continued pressing him.

Xuedou said, “Though alive for three steps, within five steps he must die.” That monk certainly knew how to watch the arrow, and so he lay down. Yaoshan said, “Where is the attendant? Drag this dead fellow outside and have a look.” The monk then departed. Xuedou said, “I only fear that he could not remain alive beyond three steps. If at that moment he had been able to leap five steps clear, no one in the world could have done anything to him.”

When experts meet, there must be an exchange of the positions of host and guest from beginning to end, without interruption; only then is there a measure of freedom and ease. At that time the monk was unable to carry it through from beginning to end, and so Xuedou criticized him. Finally, Xuedou again used the monk’s own words and composed this verse:

VERSE

The deer of all deer—

Your Reverence, look!

One arrow is shot;

He runs three steps.

If alive after five steps,

He gathers the herd and drives off the tiger.

The true eye has always belonged to the hunter;

Xuedou loudly cries, “Watch the arrow!”

COMMENTARY: “The deer of all deer—Your Reverence, look!” Patch-robed monks must have the eyes of the king of deer and the antlers of the king of deer; they must possess a mechanism and a strategy. Even if faced with a fierce winged tiger or a horned wildcat, the king of deer can still preserve his body unharmed. When that monk lay down, he meant, “I am precisely the king of deer.” “One arrow is shot; he runs three steps.” Yaoshan said, “Watch the arrow!” The monk immediately lay down. Yaoshan said, “Where is the attendant? Drag this dead fellow outside and have a look.” The monk then departed. Very fine—but he only managed three steps.

“If alive after five steps, he gathers the herd and drives off the tiger.” Xuedou said, “I only fear that he would die within five steps. If at that moment he had been able to leap five steps and remain alive, he could surely have gathered the herd and driven off the tiger.” The antlers of the king of deer are as sharp as spearheads; even a tiger, on seeing them, becomes frightened and runs away. This is the king of deer, who constantly leads the herd in driving tigers across to another mountain.

Finally, Xuedou versified Yaoshan’s way of emerging at that very moment: “The true eye has always belonged to the hunter.” Yaoshan was like a hunter skilled in archery, while that monk was like a deer. When Xuedou ascended the hall and related these words, he finally concluded in a few words, loudly crying, “Watch the arrow!” At that moment, neither those standing nor those sitting could move.

CASE EIGHTY-TWO

DALONG’S INDESTRUCTIBLE DHARMA BODY

POINTER: The tassel at the tip of the staff—only one with eyes can know it. The extraordinary transformative working—only an expert can discern it. But tell me: What is the tassel at the tip of the staff? What is the extraordinary transformative working? Try to present it.

CASE: A monk asked Dalong, “The physical body decays; what is the indestructible Dharma Body?” Dalong said, “Mountain flowers bloom like brocade; the waters of the ravine are clear as jade.”

COMMENTARY: If you rely upon words to seek the meaning of this koan, it is like brandishing a staff to strike the moon. It has nothing to do with the matter at all. An ancient clearly said, “If you wish to reach the intimate place, do not bring a question to ask. Why? Because the question lies within the answer, and the answer lies within the question.”

This monk carried in a load of foolishness and exchanged it for a load of confusion. By posing his question in this way, his failures were by no means few. Had it not been for Dalong, how could his error have covered heaven and earth? The monk asked in this way, and Dalong answered in this way: this itself is one whole. Dalong did not shift by even a hair’s breadth; it was like releasing a hawk upon sighting a rabbit, or driving a stake upon seeing the hole. Do the Three Vehicles and the twelve divisions of the teachings have such a moment? It is indeed exceedingly extraordinary: our teacher’s words never choke anyone under heaven. Therefore, it is said, “A single sheet of blankness stretches across the valley; how many night birds cannot find their nests?”

Some say that this was merely a clever reply. Those who understand it in this way are truly people who exterminate the lineage of the Buddha. They do not know that, with a single function and a single circumstance, the ancients cast off every fetter; each phrase and every word was pure gold and flawless jade.

One who possesses the eye and mind of a patch-robed monk sometimes knows how to grasp and sometimes knows how to release. Illumination and function operate simultaneously; person and circumstance are both alive, releasing and gathering at once, freely adapting according to the occasion. Without great function and great activity, how could one encompass heaven and earth in this way?

It is like a bright mirror upon its stand: when a Hu person comes, it reflects the image of a Hu person; when a Han person comes, it reflects the image of a Han person.

This case resembles the story of the flowering hedge (Case 39), yet its meaning is different. The monk’s question was unclear, but Dalong’s answer accorded with it perfectly. Have you not heard that a monk asked Yunmen, “What is it like when the trees wither and the leaves fall?” Yunmen said, “The body is exposed in the autumn wind.” This is called “two arrowheads meeting point to point.” Here the monk asked Dalong, “When the physical body decays, what is the indestructible Dharma-body?” Dalong said, “Mountain flowers bloom like brocade; valley waters are clear as jade.” It is just like, “You journey west toward Qin; I travel east toward Lu.” What others have done, I do not do.

Dalong’s answer is entirely contrary to Yunmen’s. When Yunmen acts in that way, it is easy to see; when Dalong does not act in that way, it is difficult to see. Yet Dalong’s eloquence is truly marvelous.

Xuedou’s verse says:

VERSE

The questioner does not know;

The answerer still does not understand.

The moon is cold, the wind is lofty;

On the ancient cliff, the pine is chill.

Joyful indeed to meet one who has attained the Way,

Who does not respond with speech or silence.

In his hand he holds a white jade whip,

Shattering the jeweled crystal cup.

If he does not smash it,

He adds another flaw.

The nation has its statutes—

Three thousand articles of offense.

COMMENTARY: Xuedou composed this verse with the utmost skill. Previously, when versifying Yunmen’s words, he said, “Since the question has a source, the answer must accord with it.” Because this case is not like that, Xuedou says, “The questioner does not know; the answerer still does not understand.” Even at a glance, Dalong’s answer can be seen as exceedingly extraordinary. His answer is so clear that those who questioned him in this manner had already failed before they even opened their mouths. With such an answer, Dalong was able to lower himself and accord with that monk’s capacities, saying, “Mountain flowers bloom like brocade; valley waters are clear as jade.” How do you now understand Dalong’s meaning? Even at a glance, his answer can be seen as extraordinary.

Thus Xuedou composed his verse to let everyone under heaven know that the cold moon and lofty wind stir the roots of the pine upon the ancient cliff. But tell me: how should his meaning be understood? Therefore, I said just now that it is a flute without holes striking a felt-covered board.

Four lines alone would have sufficed to versify it completely, but Xuedou still feared that people under heaven would fall into argumentation, so he said, “Joyful indeed to meet one who has attained the Way, who does not respond with speech or silence.” This matter is neither seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing, nor thought, calculation, and discrimination. Therefore, it is said, “Direct and unaccompanied—on what can solitary distinction rely?

If you meet one who has attained the Way, do not respond with speech or silence.” This is a verse by Xiangyan that Xuedou cited.

Have you not heard that a monk asked Zhaozhou, “If one does not respond with speech or silence, then with what should one respond?” Zhaozhou said, “Bring out your black lacquer bucket.” This answer is also like Dalong’s words; it does not fall into your emotional defilements and conceptual thinking.

What is it like? “In his hand he holds a white jade whip, shattering the jeweled crystal cup.” Thus the command of the Patriarchs must be carried out, cutting off all biased attachments throughout the ten directions. This is a matter on the edge of a sword; one must possess such courage and resolve. Otherwise, one betrays the sages from ancient times to the present. Having reached this point, one must be free of concerns; then its excellence naturally appears. This is precisely how one who has reached beyond conducts himself. “If he does not smash it,” he has already “added another flaw” to it. How utterly clumsy that would be!

In the end, what must you do? “The nation has its statutes—three thousand articles of offense.” Among the three thousand provisions of the penal code, no crime is greater than unfilial conduct. That monk committed all three thousand offenses at once. Why? Simply because he did not receive others with his true person. Had it been Dalong, he certainly would not have acted in this way.

CASE EIGHTY-THREE

YUNMEN’S ANCIENT BUDDHA AND PILLAR

POINTER: Yunmen instructed the assembly, saying, “At which function do the ancient Buddha and the pillar commune?” He then answered himself, “Clouds rise over South Mountain; rain falls on North Mountain.”

COMMENTARY: Great Master Yunmen trained more than eighty good spiritual friends. Seventeen years after he passed away, people opened his stupa and found that his physical body remained as majestic as before. Yunmen’s insight was lucid, and his function and responsiveness were swift. All his instructive sayings, alternative sayings, and substitute sayings were direct and lofty. This case, too, is like a spark struck from stone or a flash of lightning. It truly manifests with ghostly and divine unpredictability. Storehouse Master Qing said, “Are there words like these anywhere in the canonical teachings?”

People nowadays often rely upon biased views and say, “The Buddha is the teacher and guide of the Three Realms and the compassionate father of the four kinds of birth. Since he is an ancient Buddha, how could he commune with a pillar?” If you understand it in this way, you will never be able to grasp it. Some call Yunmen’s words “a proclamation issued from within nonexistence.” Little do they know that the words of the masters of the school cut off consciousness, cut off calculations based on biased views, cut off birth and death, and cut off the objects of mind. They enter the correct position, yet do not retain a single dharma. The moment you begin to reason and calculate, you bind your own hands and feet.

Tell me: what was the ancient’s meaning? You need only make mind and circumstances one suchness; then good and bad, right and wrong, can no longer disturb you. At that time, you may speak of “existence,” or you may speak of “nonexistence.” To have a function is acceptable, and to have no function is also acceptable. Once you have reached this point, everything whatsoever is a command. Wuzu said, “Great Yunmen and little Yunmen—after all, they turn out to be this timid.” If it were this mountain monk, I would simply have said to him, “That is the eighth function.”

Yunmen said, “When an ancient Buddha and a pillar commune with one another, what level of activity is this?” In a single moment, he gathered everything together and placed it before your eyes. A monk asked, “I still do not understand your meaning.” Yunmen said, “Each strand is worth thirty coins.” The master truly had the eye to judge heaven and earth.

Because no one understood, he later answered on their behalf, saying, “Clouds rise over the Southern Mountain; rain falls on the Northern Mountain.” He opened an entrance for later students. Thus Xuedou merely picked out the place where the master judged heaven and earth and held it up for everyone to see. If you give rise to a calculating mind, you immediately miss it, even though it is right before your eyes. You must return to the very source of Yunmen’s essential teaching before you can understand his lofty working of mind. Therefore, the verse says:

VERSE

Clouds over the Southern Mountain,

Rain over the Northern Mountain.

The twenty-eight and the six masters stand before you.

He once ascended the Dharma hall in Silla,

But never struck the drum in Great Tang.

Joy within suffering,

Suffering within joy.

Who says pure gold is like dung?

COMMENTARY: “Clouds over the Southern Mountain; rain over the Northern Mountain.” Xuedou buys a hat to fit the head and watches the wind to set the sail. On the edge of the sword, he adds a footnote for you. As for “The twenty-eight and the six masters stand before you,” do not misunderstand. This simply versifies the line, “When an ancient Buddha and a pillar commune with one another, what level of activity is this?” Xuedou then throws the road wide open, creating entanglements so that you may perceive Yunmen’s meaning. “He once ascended the Dharma hall in Silla, but never struck the drum in Great Tang.” Aiming at the place where thunder roars and stars shoot, Xuedou says, “Joy within suffering, suffering within joy.” Here Xuedou seems to pour out a whole heap of jewels.

Therefore, he concludes with the line, “Who says pure gold is like dung?” This line comes from Chanyue’s poem “The Road Is Hard,” which Xuedou quotes for his own use. Chanyue wrote, “Mountains are high and seas are deep—no one can fathom them; from antiquity until now, they have only grown more verdant. Do not associate with the shallow and frivolous; on low ground, only thorns remain to grow. Who says pure gold is like dung? Zhang Er and Chen Yu have vanished without a trace. The road is hard, the road is hard—you yourself can see!” Is this not a vast land with few people? Luohan of Yunju.

CASE EIGHTY-FOUR

VIMALAKIRTI’S DHARMA GATE OF NONDUALITY

POINTER: Although one speaks of “being,” there is nothing that can be affirmed as “being.” Although one speaks of “nonbeing,” there is likewise nothing that can be denied as “nonbeing.” Cast aside right and wrong, forget gain and loss; only then can you be free and at ease. But tell me: what is before your eyes, and what is behind your back? If a patch-robed monk were to step forward and say, “Before my eyes are the Buddha hall and the triple gate; behind my back are the abbot’s sleeping quarters,” tell me: does this person have eyes or not? If you can discern this person, I acknowledge that you have drawn near to the ancients.

CASE: Vimalakirti asked Manjusri, “What is the bodhisattva’s entrance into the Dharma gate of nonduality?” Manjusri said, “In my view, with regard to all dharmas, there are no words, no speech, no indication, and no cognition; one is free from all questions and answers. This is entrance into the Dharma gate of nonduality.” Manjusri then asked Vimalakirti, “Each of us has now spoken. Benevolent sir, please tell us: what is the bodhisattva’s entrance into the Dharma gate of nonduality?”

Xuedou said, “What did Vimalakirti say?” He also said, “Exposed!”

COMMENTARY: Vimalakirti had each of the great bodhisattvas speak about the Dharma gate of nonduality. At that time, thirty-two bodhisattvas each took dualistic views—conditioned and unconditioned, ultimate truth and conventional truth—combined them into a single view, and regarded this as the Dharma gate of nonduality. Finally, Vimalakirti asked Manjusri.

Manjusri said, “In my view, with regard to all dharmas, there are no words, no speech, no indication, and no cognition; one is free from all questions and answers. This is entrance into the Dharma gate of nonduality.” Because those thirty-two bodhisattvas used words to negate words, Manjusri used wordlessness to negate words. In a single moment, he swept everything away, admitting nothing whatsoever, and explained this as the Dharma gate of nonduality.

Little did he realize that this was like the sacred tortoise dragging its tail to sweep away the dust: though the dust is cleared, traces still remain. It is like a broom that sweeps away the dust but leaves the marks of its bristles behind.

In the end, traces still remained as before. Manjusri asked Vimalakirti, “Each of us has now spoken. Benevolent sir, please tell us: what is the bodhisattva’s entrance into the Dharma gate of nonduality?” Vimalakirti remained silent. No living person would enter dead water and drown there. If you hold such an understanding, you are merely like a mad dog chasing a clod of earth. Xuedou did not say that Vimalakirti remained silent, nor did he say that Vimalakirti sat composed upon his seat. He simply said directly, “What did Vimalakirti say?” When Xuedou spoke in this way, did he see Vimalakirti? Even in a dream, he could not have seen him.

Vimalakirti was an ancient Buddha of the past who had his own retinue and helped the Buddha proclaim and spread the teaching. Vimalakirti possessed inconceivable eloquence, an inconceivable realm, and the inconceivable wondrous functioning of spiritual powers. Within his own chamber alone, Vimalakirti accommodated thirty-two thousand jeweled lion thrones together with a great assembly of eighty thousand, yet the room was neither enlarged nor constricted. Tell me, what principle is this? Can it be called the wondrous functioning of spiritual powers? Do not misunderstand. If this is the Dharma gate of nonduality, only those who have attained and realized it together can know it together.

Only Manjusri was able to answer. Even so, could he escape Xuedou’s criticism? For Xuedou to speak in this way, he too had to meet those two face-to-face. For Xuedou to speak in this way, he too had to meet those two face-to-face. Xuedou said, “What did Vimalakirti say?” and “Exposed!” Tell me, where was he exposed? This matter is not confined by gain and loss and does not fall into right or wrong. It is like standing atop a cliff ten thousand fathoms high: only if you dare relinquish your life and leap can you meet Vimalakirti. If you cannot let go, you are like a goat butting against a fence. Xuedou was, of course, one who dared relinquish his life; therefore, he composed this verse:

VERSE

Bah! This old Vimalakirti,

In his compassion, grieves in vain.

Falling ill in the city of Vaisali,

His entire body withers away.

The teacher of the seven Buddhas comes,

Having utterly swept the single room clean,

And asks about the Dharma gate of nonduality.

At once, leaning upon it, he falls.

Yet neither leaning nor falling—

The golden-maned lion is nowhere to be found.

COMMENTARY: Xuedou said, “A shout for this old Vimalakirti!” Why does he begin by shouting at Vimalakirti like this? From the very outset, Xuedou wielded the Jeweled Sword of the Vajra King and cut everything off. Vimalakirti ought to be given three thousand blows in the morning and eight hundred blows in the evening.

The Sanskrit name Vimalakirti is translated into Chinese as “Stainless Renown,” or “Pure Name.” He is also called the Tathagata Golden Grain of a former age. Have you not heard that a monk asked Master Yunju Jian, “Since he was already the Tathagata Golden Grain, why did he still have to listen to the Dharma in the assembly of Shakyamuni Tathagata?” Master Jian said, “Because Vimalakirti did not contend over self and others.

One who has attained liberation is not constrained by ‘becoming a Buddha’ or not becoming a Buddha.” If you say that such a person practices in an effort to become a Buddha, it is even further from the point. The Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment says, “If, with the mind of samsara, one gives rise to samsaric views and seeks to enter the Tathagata’s great ocean of quiescent cessation, one will never succeed.”

Yongjia said, “Whether it is right or wrong, no one knows; whether one goes against or with the current, even heaven cannot fathom. Going with the current, one enters the fruition of Buddhahood; going against the current, one enters the realm of sentient beings.” Chan Master Shou said, “Even if you refine yourselves and reach this point, you still cannot act entirely as you please. Only when you realize the undefiled body of a sage can you begin freely to go with or against the current.” Therefore, Xuedou said, “Compassion does not bring vexation.” The Vimalakirti Sutra says, “Because sentient beings are ill, I too am ill.” Xuedou said, “Ill in the city of Vaishali,” because Vimalakirti manifested illness in the city of Vaishali.

“His whole body withered away.” Vimalakirti used his ailing body to expound the Dharma extensively: “This body is impermanent, without strength or power, without solidity, and swiftly decays. It cannot be relied upon. It causes suffering and affliction and is the gathering place of all manner of illnesses. It is merely assembled from the skandhas, ayatanas, and dhatus.”

“The teacher of the Seven Buddhas came.” Manjushri was the ancestral teacher of the Seven Buddhas. Obeying the instructions of the Blessed One, he went there to inquire after Vimalakirti’s illness. “Was the room swept utterly bare?” Vimalakirti had everything removed from the room, leaving only a single bed. When Manjushri arrived, he asked about the Dharma gate of nonduality. Therefore, Xuedou said, “He was asked about the Dharma gate of nonduality.” “He immediately leaned over and fell.” Vimalakirti’s mouth was bent like a carrying pole. Students of Chan today say, “Saying nothing means leaning over and falling.” But do not mistake the balancing point of the scale beam.

Xuedou drives you up to a peak ten thousand fathoms high and then says, “He did not lean over and fall.” Truly, with one hand he presses down, and with the other he lifts up. He possessed this ability and employed it with exquisite subtlety. This verse comments upon the capping phrase, “What did Vimalakirti say?”

“Nowhere can the golden-haired lion be found.” It was not only so then; it is the same even now. Do you still see old Vimalakirti? Even if all the mountains, rivers, great earth, grasses, trees, and dense forests were transformed into golden-haired lions, you still could not feel him out.

CASE EIGHTY-FIVE

THE HERMIT OF TONGFENG’S TIGER

POINTER: To hold the world fast without the slightest gap, causing everyone under heaven to lose their sharpness and become tongue-tied—this is the command of patch-robed monks. To emit light from between the brows that illuminates the four quarters of the world—this is the vajra eye of patch-robed monks. To touch iron and turn it into gold, touch gold and turn it into iron, suddenly seizing and suddenly releasing—this is the staff of patch-robed monks. To leave everyone under heaven tongue-tied, with nowhere to breathe out, compelling them to retreat three thousand miles—this is the mettle of patch-robed monks. Tell me: if one is not like this, then what kind of person is one after all? Try to present one.

CASE: A monk came to the Hermit of Tongfeng and asked, “If one suddenly encounters a tiger here, what should one do?” Tongfeng roared like a tiger. The monk made a show of being frightened. Tongfeng burst into loud laughter. The monk said, “You old thief!” Tongfeng said, “And what can you do to this old monk?”

Xuedou said, “As far as it goes, that was acceptable; yet these two wicked thieves only knew how to cover their ears while stealing a bell.”

COMMENTARY: From the lineage of Daxiong—that of Baizhang Huaihai—came four hermits: Damei, Baiyun, Huxi, and Tongfeng.

Look at these two: how keenly their eyes saw and how deftly their hands acted! Tell me, where does the complication lie? Though an ancient’s single device, single scene, single word, or single phrase emerged only in response to the moment, it was exceedingly alive, because the ancients’ eyes always encompassed everything and were exact.

Xuedou added his capping phrase to help everyone discern the deviant from the orthodox and distinguish gain from loss. Even so, one who has attained the Way may dwell amid gain and loss without there being any gain or loss at all. If you view the ancients in terms of gain and loss, you are entirely beside the point.

People today should understand gain and loss thoroughly, and only then use gain and loss to discern. If you keep employing your minds in the comparison and calculation of words and phrases, when will you ever succeed?

Have you not heard Great Master Yunmen say, “Traveling monks, do not merely wander wastefully from place to place, hoping only to compare and calculate words and phrases. The moment some old monk opens his mouth, you ask about Chan and the Way, ask about matters above and below, ask ‘What?’ and ‘How?’ You write thick volumes of commentaries and stuff them into your bellies. Wherever you go, you gather in groups of three around the hearth and chatter endlessly: ‘These are words of eloquence; these are words referring to the person; these are words about things; these are words proceeding from the essential nature.’ You seek to comprehend the patriarchs of your own school.

Once you have swallowed a mouthful of rice, you concern yourselves only with talking in your sleep, saying, ‘I understand the Buddha Dharma.’ If you travel with such notions, you will not be finished even by the Year of the Donkey.”

The ancients provisionally picked things up and played with them; how could they have held views about victory and defeat, gain and loss, right and wrong? Tongfeng had once met Linji. At that time, Tongfeng had built a hermitage deep in the forest.

This monk came there and asked, “If one suddenly encounters a tiger here, what should one do?” Tongfeng roared like a tiger; he acted in accordance with the situation. This monk also knew how to meet error with error, and so he made a show of being frightened. Tongfeng then burst into loud laughter.

The monk said, “You old thief!” Tongfeng said, “And what can you do to this old monk?” Right though it was, neither of them penetrated it completely. Therefore, from ancient times to the present, they have often been criticized by people everywhere. Xuedou said, “As far as it goes, that was acceptable; yet these two wicked thieves only knew how to cover their ears while stealing a bell.” Although both were thieves, when they encountered the pivotal moment, they could not employ it; thus they resembled thieves who covered their ears while stealing a bell.

These two old fellows were like commanders deploying a million soldiers, yet in the end they merely fought over a broom.

If one wishes to discuss this matter, one must possess the ability to kill without blinking an eye. If all along you have known only how to release but not how to hold fast, only how to kill but not how to bring to life, you will hardly escape the ridicule of people everywhere. Even so, the ancients were not meddlesome. Look at these two: both perceived the opportunity and acted. The Fifth Patriarch spoke of the samadhi of the play of spiritual powers, the samadhi of the torch of wisdom, and the samadhi of the King of Adornments. It is only because people of later generations have their heels off the ground that they criticize the ancients, saying there was gain and loss. Some plainly say that the hermitage master Tongfeng stumbled, but this is entirely beside the point.

Xuedou said, “When these two met, both had a place of release.” That monk said, “If one suddenly encountered a tiger here, what then?” Tongfeng thereupon roared like a tiger; this was precisely a release. When he went on to say, “What can you do to this old monk?” this too was a release. Each action fell into the secondary mechanism. Xuedou said, “If you wish to employ it, employ it.” When people nowadays hear this, they say that Tongfeng was carrying out the command at that moment. Yet one must not blindly impose punishment.

Deshan struck anyone who had just entered the gate; Linji shouted at anyone who had just entered the gate. Tell me, what was the intention of the ancients? In the end, Xuedou simply composed his verse in this way. Tell me, ultimately what must one do to avoid “covering one’s ears while stealing a bell”?

VERSE

Seeing but not seizing,

Thoughts a thousand miles away.

Truly gaudy,

Yet lacking claws and fangs.

Have you not seen the sudden meeting below Mount Daxiong?

Sound and radiance shake heaven and earth;

Do great men see it or not?

Grasping the tiger’s tail—ah!—stroking the tiger’s whiskers.

COMMENTARY: “Seeing but not seizing, thoughts a thousand miles away.” Precisely at the critical moment, that monk was unable to make use of it. When Tongfeng said, “What can you do to this old monk?” the monk should have struck back. If at that moment he had displayed his skill, he would surely have had the final word. The two knew only how to release and did not know how to draw in. If one “sees but does not seize,” it has already become white clouds a thousand miles away. Why then must it also say, “Thoughts a thousand miles away”?

“Truly gaudy, yet lacking claws and fangs.” It is right, to be sure, but a tiger also knows how to conceal its fangs and retract its claws. What can be done when it does not know how to bite people?

“Have you not seen the sudden meeting below Mount Daxiong? Sound and radiance shake heaven and earth.” One day Baizhang asked Huangbo, “Where have you come from?” Huangbo said, “I went to gather mushrooms and have come from below the mountain.” Baizhang said, “Did you see a tiger?” Huangbo thereupon roared like a tiger. Baizhang drew the axe at his side and made as though to chop. Huangbo firmly seized the staff and struck Baizhang. That evening Baizhang ascended the hall and said, “Below Mount Daxiong there is a tiger. When coming and going, all of you should look carefully. Today this old monk himself was bitten by it.”

Later Guishan asked Yangshan, “What is the meaning of Huangbo’s tiger story?” Yangshan said, “Venerable sir, what is your meaning?” Yangshan said, “At that time Baizhang should simply have struck him with the axe; then matters would not have come to what they are today.” Yangshan said, “It is not so.” Guishan said, “Then what do you think?” Yangshan said, “Our master not only knew how to ride the tiger’s head, but also knew how to grasp the tiger’s tail.” Guishan said, “Huiji truly has many exceedingly lofty sayings.” Xuedou cited this to elucidate the preceding case.

“Sound and radiance shake heaven and earth.” This is transformation in complete freedom. Xuedou wished there to be a path of emergence within the words. “Do great men see it or not?” Do you see it? “Grasping the tiger’s tail—ah!—stroking the tiger’s whiskers.” It must be one’s own proper responsibility. Even if you can grasp the tiger’s tail and stroke its whiskers, it will still be difficult to avoid having your nostrils pierced one day.

CASE EIGHTY-SIX

YUNMEN’S RADIANCE

POINTER: Firmly grasping the world, without the slightest opening. Cutting off all streams, without leaving a single drop. To open one’s mouth is already wrong; to deliberate is already mistaken. Tell me, what is the eye that sees through the barrier? Bring it forth and see.

CASE: Yunmen instructed the assembly, saying, “Everyone has radiance. When you look for it, you see nothing, but only utter darkness. What is the radiance within everyone?” Yunmen himself answered, “The kitchen pantry and the main gate.” He also said, “A good thing is not as good as no thing.”

COMMENTARY: In his chamber, Yunmen gave an instruction to receive people from throughout the world: “Every one of you standing right here has a brilliant light that from the beginning has never ceased and that transcends knowledge and views. Although it is radiance, when questioned about it you do not understand. Is this not utter darkness?” He taught in this way for twenty years, yet no one understood.

Later Xianglin asked Yunmen to speak on his behalf. Yunmen said, “The kitchen pantry and the main gate.” He also said, “A good thing is not as good as no thing.” Ordinarily, a saying spoken on another’s behalf consists of only one phrase; why are there two here? The first phrase merely opens a road for you to see. If you are true fellows, the moment you hear it mentioned, that alone should be enough to rouse you to action. Yunmen feared that people everywhere would become entangled here, so he said, “A good thing is not as good as no thing.” As before, the master swept everything away for you.

Nowadays, as soon as people hear radiance mentioned, they widen their eyes and say, “Where is the kitchen pantry? Where is the main gate?” But this is entirely beside the point. Thus it is said, “Know how to preserve the meaning before the words; do not take the point halfway down the handle.” This matter is neither in the eyes nor in objects. If you wish to understand, you must cut off knowledge and views, forget gain and loss, and be free and at ease; each person must experience it personally.

Yunmen said, “Coming and going in broad daylight, discerning people in broad daylight. Suddenly, at midnight, there is no sun, moon, or lamplight. If it is a place you have already reached, there is no problem; but if it is an unfamiliar place, will you be able to grasp and hold on to anything?” Shitou wrote in the Cantong Qi: “Right within light there is darkness; do not regard it as darkness. Right within darkness there is light; do not regard it as light.”

If you cut off all biased attachments to light and darkness, tell me, what is it? Thus it is said, “The flower of mind emits radiance, illuminating all lands throughout the ten directions.” Panshan said, “Radiance does not shine upon objects, and objects do not exist either. When both radiance and objects are forgotten, what is it?” It is also said, “This seeing and hearing are not seeing and hearing; there are no other sounds and forms to present before you. If you understand that there is nothing to be done, essence and function naturally distinguish themselves without distinction.”

You need only understand Yunmen’s final phrase, and then you may freely roam and play among the preceding phrases. Yet ultimately you must not cling there. Vimalakirti said, “Taking non-abiding as the basis, establish all dharmas.” You must not rely on that and sport with radiance and demons. Yet it is still better to give rise to a view of existence as great as Mount Sumeru than to give rise to a view of nonexistence as small as a mustard seed.”[1] Those of the Two Vehicles[2] often fall into one of these two attached views.

VERSE

Shining alone by itself,

For you, he opens a single path.

Flowers fall, the tree casts no shadow;

When looking, who does not see?

Seeing, yet not seeing,

Riding the ox backward, ah, entering the Buddha Hall.

COMMENTARY: “Illuminating alone by itself.” Right beneath your feet, where you stand, this radiant light has always been present; it is only that your ordinary functioning is dark. Therefore, Great Master Yunmen spread the light directly before your faces. But tell me, what is your radiant light? “The kitchen and the main gate.” This is precisely where Yunmen displayed this solitary radiance. Panshan said, “The moon of the mind is round and solitary; its radiance swallows all phenomena.” This is truly the solitary revelation of the eternal truth.

Then, “for your sake, he opened a pathway.” Yunmen was still afraid that people everywhere would cling to “the kitchen and the main gate.” For the moment, let the kitchen and the main gate be; but when the morning flowers have fallen and the trees cast no shadows, when the sun has set and the moon is dim, and heaven and earth are utterly dark, can you still see? “When looking, who does not see?” Tell me, who is the one who does not see? When you reach this point, where “within light there is darkness, and within darkness there is light,” as though one step were ahead and another behind, you must see for yourselves.

Xuedou said, “Seeing, yet not seeing,” and also sang, “Something is not as good as nothing.” When joined with seeing, there is no seeing; when joined with light, there is no illumination.

“Riding the ox backward, ah, entering the Buddha Hall.” Our teacher has gone into the black lacquer bucket. You must yourselves ride the ox into the Buddha Hall before you can see what he means.

CASE EIGHTY-SEVEN

YUNMEN’S MEDICINE AND DISEASE CURE EACH OTHER

POINTER: A clear-eyed person has no fixed pattern. At times, atop a solitary peak, the grasses stretch endlessly; at times, stark naked, he stands in the bustling marketplace. At times, he manifests three heads and six arms, wrathfully shouting. At times, he appears as Sun-Face Buddha and Moon-Face Buddha, radiating compassionate light that embraces all. Within a single mote of dust, he manifests every body, responding according to the capacities of sentient beings. He mingles with mud and water. When he points out the path of transcendence, even the Buddha-eye cannot perceive him. Even if a thousand sages appeared, they would still have to retreat three thousand miles. Is there anyone who has attained and realized the same thing? Let us bring it up and see.

CASE: Yunmen instructed the assembly, saying, “Medicine and disease cure each other. This entire heaven and earth is medicine. What is the self?”

COMMENTARY: Yunmen said, “Medicine and disease cure each other. This entire heaven and earth is medicine. What is the self?” Do you have a place from which to emerge?

Throughout the twenty-four hours of the day, contemplate the phrase, “Standing sheer like a cliff ten thousand fathoms high.” Deshan’s staff falls like rain, and Linji’s shout resounds like thunder—but set these aside for the moment. Shakyamuni is himself Shakyamuni; Maitreya is himself Maitreya. Those who have not understood the essential point commonly call this “medicine and disease corresponding to one another.” Throughout forty-nine years, in more than three hundred assemblies, the Blessed One established teachings according to circumstances.

This is precisely prescribing medicine according to the illness, exchanging sweet fruit for a bitter gourd. He cleanses the roots of your karma, enabling you to be free and liberated.

“This entire heaven and earth is medicine.” Where can you get your mouth into it? If you can get your mouth into it, I acknowledge that you have a place to turn around and express yourselves. Then you can personally meet Yunmen. If you merely keep looking around and hesitating, you will never be able to get your mouth into it. Yunmen is right beneath your feet.

“Medicine and disease cure each other.” This is merely an ordinary comment. If you cling to existence, he will speak of nonexistence to you; if you cling to nonexistence, he will speak of existence to you. If you cling to both existence and nonexistence, he will manifest the sixteen-foot golden body for you right atop a heap of refuse, appearing and disappearing.

At present, this entire heaven and earth, all the myriad phenomena, and the person of your own self are simultaneously medicine. At that very moment, what do you know to call the self? If you keep calling it medicine, then even when Maitreya descends to be born, you still will not see Yunmen, even in a dream. Ultimately, what is it? “Grasp the hook at the end of the line; do not cling to the balance beam.”

One day Manjushri sent Sudhana to gather medicinal herbs, saying, “Bring back anything that is not medicine.” Sudhana searched everywhere but found nothing that was not medicine. Sudhana then returned and reported to Manjushri, “There is nothing that is not medicine.” Manjushri said, “Then try bringing back something that is medicine.” Sudhana plucked a blade of grass and handed it to Manjushri. Manjushri held it up and said to the assembly, “This medicine can both kill people and save people.”

This saying that medicine and disease cure each other is extremely difficult to perceive. Yunmen often used these words in his chamber when receiving people from everywhere. One day Elder Jine came to visit Xuedou. Jine was an adept in the Linji lineage. The two discussed this saying about medicine and disease curing each other throughout the night, and only at dawn did they exhaust its subtleties. Once this point is reached, no amount of intellectual knowledge, thought, or calculation can be applied. Later, Xuedou composed a verse to bid Jine farewell:

“Medicine and disease curing each other is exceedingly hard to perceive;
Ten thousand layers of locked gates are utterly without basis.
The man of the Way, Jine, came to inquire;
In one night, the waves of the ocean of learning ran dry.”

Xuedou composed the final section with the greatest skill. His meaning occupies both the position of guest and the position of host. See it for yourselves.

VERSE

The entire heaven and earth is medicine—

How have past and present gone so far astray?

Shut the gate, but do not build a cart;

The road is naturally broad and open.

Wrong, wrong!

Even a nose towering to heaven is still pierced.

COMMENTARY: “The entire heaven and earth is medicine—how have past and present gone so far astray?” If you call it medicine, then from ancient times to the present you have all been mistaken. Xuedou said, “There is a kind of person who does not know how to cut off Damei’s heels, but merely says that Damei walks too quickly.” Xuedou knew how to cut off Damei’s heels.

This single saying of Yunmen bewildered people throughout the world. Yunmen said, “My staff is a wave; you may freely range across it. This entire heaven and earth is a wave—let us see whether you sink or float.” “Shut the gate, but do not build a cart; the road is naturally broad and open.” Xuedou spoke to open a road for you. If you shut the gate and build a cart, then bring it outside and try to fit it into the old ruts, what will you have accomplished? Here, I shut the gate but do not build a cart; when I go outside, the way is naturally broad and open. Here Xuedou revealed a little for people everywhere to see.

Xuedou then hastily continued, “Wrong, wrong!” The beginning is wrong, and the end is wrong. Who knows that Xuedou opened a road? Is that wrong as well? If your noses already tower up to heaven, how could they still be pierced? Do you want to understand? Devote thirty years to investigating Chan. If you have a staff, I will give you a staff; if you have no staff, you can hardly avoid having your nose pierced by someone else.

CASE EIGHTY-EIGHT

XUANSHA RECEIVES BEINGS AND BENEFITS LIVING CREATURES

POINTER: The methods of our school are like this: breaking two into three. If you wish to penetrate the principle through inquiry and discussion, you must also undergo drilling and polishing. Confront the transformations of circumstances and act as their pivotal master; shatter the golden chains and all the abstruse barriers. Act in accordance with the command and sweep away every trace. Tell me, where does one become entangled? Let us bring this up for those who have eyes atop their heads to see.

CASE: Xuansha instructed the assembly, “The venerable adepts everywhere all speak of receiving beings and benefiting living creatures. If you suddenly encountered three kinds of afflicted people, how would you receive them? If you met a blind person, then even if you raised the mallet and held up the whisk, he would not see. If you met a deaf person, then even if you spoke of samadhi, he would not hear. If you met a mute person, then even if you told him to speak, he would be unable to do so. How, then, would you receive such people? If you cannot receive them, does that mean the Buddha-Dharma has no efficacy?”

A monk asked Yunmen about this matter. Yunmen said, “First make your bows.” After the monk had bowed, he stood up. Yunmen prodded him with his staff, and the monk stepped back. Yunmen said, “You are not blind.” Yunmen then called him to come closer, and the monk approached. Yunmen said, “You are not deaf.” Yunmen asked, “Do you understand?” The monk said, “I do not understand.” Yunmen said, “You are not mute.” The monk then awakened.

COMMENTARY: Xuansha investigated Chan to the point where he had cut off all conceptualization concerning sense objects and ideas; he was free, unfettered, and utterly at ease. That is why he knew how to speak in this way. At that time Chan flourished, and monasteries looked to one another for guidance.

Xuansha often instructed the assembly, “The venerable adepts everywhere all speak of receiving beings and benefiting living creatures. If you suddenly encountered three kinds of afflicted people, how would you receive them? If you met a blind person, then even if you raised the mallet and held up the whisk, he would not see.

If you met a deaf person, then even if you spoke of samadhi, he would not hear. If you met a mute person, then even if you told him to speak, he would be unable to do so. How, then, would you receive such people?

If you cannot receive them, does that mean the Buddha-Dharma has no efficacy?” If people today understand this in terms of literal blindness, deafness, or muteness, they will ultimately never feel their way to the truth. Thus it is said, “Do not die in words.” You must understand Xuansha’s meaning.

Xuansha often used these words to receive people. There was a monk who had stayed with Xuansha for a long time. One day, when Xuansha ascended the hall, that monk asked, “May I offer my reasoning concerning the saying about the three kinds of afflicted people?” Xuansha said, “You may.” The monk then bowed in farewell. Xuansha said, “Wrong, wrong!” Did that monk understand Xuansha’s meaning? Later, Fayan said, “When I heard Master Dizang recount the words of that monk, I first understood the meaning of the saying about the three kinds of afflicted people.” If you say that the monk did not understand, why did Fayan speak in this way? If you say that the monk understood, why did Xuansha say, “Wrong, wrong!”?

One day Dizang said, “I have heard that the Master has a saying concerning three kinds of afflicted people. Is that so?” Xuansha said, “It is.” Dizang said, “I possess eyes, ears, nose, and tongue. How will the Master receive me?” Xuansha then desisted. If you understand Xuansha’s meaning, could it possibly lie within words and phrases? Dizang’s understanding was indeed extraordinary.

Later, a monk recounted the foregoing story to Yunmen. Yunmen immediately understood his meaning and therefore said, “First make your bows.” After the monk had bowed, he stood up. Yunmen prodded him with his staff, and the monk stepped back.

Yunmen said, “First make your bows.” After the monk had bowed, he stood up. Yunmen prodded him with his staff, and the monk stepped back. Yunmen said, “You are not blind.” Yunmen then called him to come closer, and the monk approached.

Yunmen said, “You are not deaf.” Yunmen asked, “Do you understand?” The monk said, “I do not understand.” Yunmen said, “You are not mute.” The monk then awakened. If that monk had been a capable fellow, the moment Yunmen said, “First make your bows,” he would at once have overturned the Chan seat; then we would have seen whether there could still have been so many entanglements. But tell me: are Yunmen’s understanding and Xuansha’s understanding the same or different?

The understanding of those two men is of one and the same kind.

See how the ancients set forth thousands upon thousands of skillful means. Their intent lies at the tip of the hook. All that wearisome effort was undertaken solely to enable people of the present day to understand this matter. Old Master Wuzu said, “One person can speak but does not understand; another understands but cannot speak. If these two people came for an interview, how would you distinguish them?” If you cannot distinguish these two, how will you untangle the entanglements of people throughout the world? If you can distinguish them, then the moment you see them enter the gate, you will already have walked several circuits through their bellies in your shoes. If you yourselves have still not awakened, what sort of bowl are you seeking?”

Do not understand this in terms of literal blindness, deafness, and muteness. If you reckon it in that fashion, there is already the saying, “The eyes see forms yet are as though blind; the ears hear sounds yet are as though deaf.” It is also said, “Though forms fill the eyes, no form is seen; though sounds fill the ears, no sound is heard. Manjusri always covers his eyes; Avalokitesvara forever stops his ears.” Once you have reached this point, you must see forms as though blind and hear sounds as though deaf; only then can you avoid contradicting Xuansha’s meaning. Do you understand the meaning of those who are blind, deaf, and mute? Listen to Xuedou’s verse:

VERSE

Blind, mute, and deaf,

All functions and deliberations cut off.

Above heaven and beneath heaven—

What joy! What sorrow!

Li Lou cannot discern the true colors;

How could Shi Kuang comprehend the subtle strings?

How could that compare with sitting idly beneath the window,

Where leaves fall and flowers bloom, each in its own season?

Again he says: Do you understand or not?

An iron hammer without a hole.

COMMENTARY: “Blind, mute, and deaf, all functions and deliberations cut off.” Everything you see and do not see, hear and do not hear, say and do not say—Xuedou sweeps it all away at once. Even discriminatory interpretations based on blindness, deafness, and muteness are suddenly cut off and can no longer be employed. This matter of transcending can be called truly blind, truly deaf, truly mute, without function and without deliberation.

“Above heaven and beneath heaven—what joy! What sorrow!” With one hand Xuedou lifts up; with the other he presses down. Tell me, what is there to rejoice in? What is there to sorrow over? What joy, because the mute are not mute and the deaf are not deaf; what sorrow, because those who are plainly not blind are nevertheless blind, and those who are plainly not deaf are nevertheless deaf.

“Li Lou could not discern the true color.” If one cannot distinguish blue, yellow, white, and red, one is blind. Li Lou was a man from the time of Emperor Huan (three thousand years before the Common Era); even from more than one hundred paces away, he could see the tip of a single hair, so exceedingly keen were his eyes. When the Yellow Emperor went traveling along the Red River, he lost a pearl and ordered Li Lou to search for it, but Li Lou could not find it.

He ordered Qi Hou to search, but Qi Hou also failed to find it. Finally, he ordered Xiang Wang to search, and only then was it found. Thus it is said, “Xiang Wang searched and found it.” Thus it is said, “Xiang Wang is ever radiant; Li Lou’s activity is like towering waves.” At this lofty place, even when Li Lou fixed his eyes upon it, he could not discern the true color.

“How could Master Kuang understand the mysterious strings?” During the Zhou dynasty (one thousand years before the Common Era), Duke Jing of Jin had a man named Master Kuang, whose style name was Ziye, and who was skilled at distinguishing the five notes and the six pitch standards. Master Kuang could hear the sound of ants fighting on the far side of a mountain. At that time, Jin and Chu were contending for supremacy. Master Kuang needed only to play his lute and sound the gong mode to know that Chu could never prevail. Although Master Kuang possessed such ability, Xuedou still said that Master Kuang did not understand the mysterious strings. Those who, though not deaf, are as if deaf—with regard to this sublime and mysterious sound, even Master Kuang could not understand it.

Xuedou said, “I do not act as Li Lou, nor do I act as Master Kuang. What could be better than sitting idly beneath the window frame? Leaves fall and flowers bloom, each in its own season.” If one reaches this realm, though hearing, it is as if one does not hear; though seeing, it is as if one does not see; though speaking, it is as if one does not speak. When hungry, eat; when tired, lie down and sleep. Let leaves fall and flowers bloom as they will. When leaves fall, it is autumn; when flowers bloom, it is spring. Everything has its own season.

After sweeping everything clean for you, Xuedou again opened a path, saying, “Do you understand or not?” Xuedou’s strength was exhausted and his spirit wearied; he could only say, “An iron hammer without a hole.” You must look closely at this statement before you can see it. If you attempt to reason about it, you will immediately miss it again.

Yuanwu raised his whisk and said, “Do you see?” Then he stamped once upon the Chan platform and said, “Do you hear?” Then he stepped down from the platform and said, “Can you speak?”

CASE EIGHTY-NINE

THE HANDS AND EYES OF THE GREAT COMPASSION BODHISATTVA

POINTER: The whole body is eyes, yet it cannot see. The whole body is ears, yet it cannot hear. The whole body is a mouth, yet it cannot speak. The whole body is mind, yet it cannot illuminate. For the moment, set aside the matter of the “whole body.” If suddenly there were no eyes, how would you see? With no ears, how would you hear? With no mouth, how would you speak? With no mind, how would you illuminate? If here you can open up a path, you may study together with the ancient Buddhas. For the moment, set aside the matter of “studying together”; with whom do you study?

CASE: Yunyan asked Daowu, “What does the Great Compassion Bodhisattva do with so many hands and eyes?” Daowu said, “It is like someone in the middle of the night reaching behind to find the pillow.” Yunyan said, “I understand.” Daowu said, “How do you understand?” Yunyan said, “The whole body is hands and eyes.” Daowu said, “You have expressed it most intimately, but you have said only eighty percent.” Yunyan said, “Then how would you put it, elder brother?” Daowu said, “Throughout the body are hands and eyes.”

COMMENTARY: Yunyan and Daowu both studied under Yaoshan. For forty years, Yunyan never slept lying down. The Caodong school originated precisely from Yaoshan. The Dharma flourished through three men: from Yunyan came Dongshan; from Daowu came Shishuang; and from the Boatman came Jiashan. The Great Compassion Bodhisattva (Avalokiteshvara) has eighty-four thousand arms. The Great Compassion Bodhisattva has so many hands and eyes. Do you have them? Baizhang said, “All words and written expressions turn gracefully and return to oneself.”

Yunyan frequently followed Daowu, consulting him and seeking explanations. One day Yunyan asked Daowu, “What does the Great Compassion Bodhisattva do with so many hands and eyes?” From the very beginning, Daowu should have struck Yunyan across the back with his staff; would that not have spared all the entanglements that followed? But Daowu was compassionate and could not do so. Instead, he explained the matter carefully, intending to make Yunyan understand. Daowu said, “It is like someone in the middle of the night reaching behind to find the pillow.” In the depths of night, with no lamp, one reaches behind to find the pillow. Tell me, where are the eyes?

Yunyan immediately said, “I understand.” Daowu said, “How do you understand?” Yunyan said, “The whole body is hands and eyes.” Daowu said, “You have expressed it most intimately, but you have said only eighty percent.” Yunyan said, “Then how would you put it, elder brother?” Daowu said, “Throughout the body are hands and eyes.”

Tell me: is “the whole body” correct, or is “throughout the body” correct? Though it appears like sodden mud, it is nevertheless supremely free and unfettered. People nowadays are prone to understand it through one-sided attachment, saying that “the whole body” is wrong and “throughout the body” is correct.

They concern themselves only with chewing over the words and phrases of the ancients. They die within words and phrases. These are merely expressions that had to be used because there was no other choice.

People nowadays add footnotes and establish rules, saying that if one penetrates this koan, there is no further need to study. They grope all over the body with their hands and feel the lamps and pillars, understanding it in the sense of “throughout the body.” If you understand it this way, the harm you do to the ancients is by no means slight.

Thus it is said, “Our teacher investigates the living phrase, not the dead phrase.” You must cut off the dust of emotion and conceptual thought, becoming free and unfettered, before you can understand this saying concerning Great Compassion.

Have you not heard how Caoshan asked a monk, “What is it like when the Dharma body responds to things and manifests forms, like the moon’s reflection in water?” The monk said, “It is like a donkey looking into a well.” Caoshan said, “You have expressed it most intimately, but you have said only eighty percent.” The monk said, “Then how would you put it, Venerable?” Caoshan said, “It is like the well looking at the donkey.” This has the same meaning as the koan above.

If you attempt to see it by relying on language, you will never escape the snares of Daowu and Yunyan. Xuedou was an expert who no longer died within language, and he immediately composed this verse:

VERSE

The whole body is right,

Throughout the body is right.

Take it up, and still you are a hundred thousand miles away.

The Peng spreads its wings and soars through the nine tiers of clouds.

Stirring winds that send the waters of the four seas surging,

Where could a mote of dust suddenly arise?

Where could a single tuft of hair remain unstilled?

Do you not see—

The jeweled net hangs down, its reflections layer upon layer?

From where do the eyes at the tip of the staff arise?

Kaatz!

COMMENTARY: “The whole body is right; every part of the body is right.” To say that reaching behind one’s back to feel for the pillow is right, or that feeling about the body with one’s hands is right—if you entertain views such as these, you are all living in a demon’s cave. Ultimately, neither “the whole body” nor “every part of the body” is right. If you attempt to use discriminating consciousness to perceive the meaning of this statement concerning the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion, you are still a hundred thousand miles away. Xuedou plays with a single phrase and revives the dead, saying, “Even if you pick it up, you are still a hundred thousand miles away.”

In the lines that follow, Xuedou eulogizes what is extraordinary about Yunyan and Daowu: “The Peng spreads its wings and soars through the nine layers of cloud, stirring winds that churn the waters of the four seas.” The great Peng bird swallows dragons and, with its wings, raises winds and waves; the waters divide, and from three thousand miles away the Peng seizes dragons and swallows them. Xuedou says that if you can stir up winds and waves like the Peng, you are indeed exceedingly majestic.

If one contemplates with the thousand hands and eyes of Great Compassion, this matter is merely like a speck of dust rising, or like a tuft of hair still being blown about by the wind. Xuedou says, “If you regard hands feeling about the body as the hands and eyes, what use could that possibly be?” Even speaking correctly in this way does not come close to that statement concerning the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion. Therefore Xuedou says, “What speck of dust has suddenly arisen? What tuft of hair has still not come to rest?”

Xuedou himself claims to be an expert who wipes away every trace in an instant. Yet in the end he remains as clumsy as ever, still making comparisons and distinctions, and thus remains caught in the snare as before. “Do you not see the jeweled net hanging down, its reflections layer upon layer?” Xuedou cites Indra’s jeweled net as a doctrinal framework. Tell me, ultimately, where do the hands and eyes come to rest?

The Huayan School establishes four Dharma-realms. The first is the Dharma-realm of principle, elucidating the equality of the one flavor. The second is the Dharma-realm of phenomena, elucidating how the entirety of principle manifests as phenomena.

The third is the unobstructed Dharma-realm of principle and phenomena, elucidating the mutual interpenetration of principle and phenomena, with great and small unobstructed. The fourth is the unobstructed Dharma-realm of phenomenon and phenomenon, elucidating how one phenomenon enters into all phenomena, while all phenomena everywhere encompass all phenomena, simultaneously interpenetrating without obstruction. Therefore it is said, “When a single mote of dust arises, the entire great earth is contained within it; a single mote of dust contains boundless Dharma-realms.

As it is with one mote of dust, so it is with all other motes of dust.”

This jeweled net is the jeweled net that hangs before the Hall of Excellent Dharma in Indra’s heaven. In each jewel are reflected hundreds of thousands of jewels, and all those hundreds of thousands of jewels appear within each single jewel, reflecting one another layer upon layer, with host and guest inexhaustible. This is used to elucidate the unobstructed Dharma-realm of phenomenon and phenomenon. Long ago, National Teacher Xianshou used mirrors and a lamp as an analogy. The National Teacher arranged ten mirrors around a lamp placed in their midst. When one looked into a single mirror, one would see the lamp reflected in the other nine mirrors, all appearing distinctly. Whichever of the ten mirrors one looked into, it was the same.

Therefore, when the World-Honored One first attained perfect awakening, without leaving the Bodhi Seat he ascended directly to the Trayastrimsha Heaven, as well as appearing at all the places of the seven locations and nine assemblies, to preach the Avatamsaka Sutra.

Xuedou uses Indra’s jeweled net to teach the unobstructed Dharma-realm of phenomenon and phenomenon. The meaning of the six characteristics is very clear: the characteristics of totality, distinction, identity, difference, integration, and disintegration. When one characteristic is raised, all six characteristics appear.

Because sentient beings in their daily lives do not understand the meaning of this principle, Xuedou presents the image of Indra’s jeweled net as a comparison with that teaching concerning the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion. The meaning is this: if, through this jeweled net, you can understand the meaning of the staff, its wondrous functioning and spiritual powers, freely entering and emerging without obstruction, only then can you see the thousand hands and thousand eyes.

Therefore Xuedou says, “From where do the thousand eyes at the tip of the staff arise?” This is intended to enable you to attain awakening when struck by the staff and realization beneath the shout.

Deshan struck people the moment they entered the gate; Linji shouted at people the moment they entered the gate. Tell me, where are the hands and eyes? And tell me, why did Xuedou shout? Investigate this through Zen.

CASE NINETY

ZHIMEN’S ESSENCE OF PRAJNA

POINTER: A phrase before the sound, untransmitted by a thousand sages. A thread before your face, never severed through all eternity. Free and unfettered, transcending the sacred—your hair stands on end and your ears listen intently. Tell me, what is it? Let us bring it up and see.

CASE: A monk asked Zhimen, “What is the essence of prajna?” Zhimen said, “The oyster holds the bright moon in its mouth.” The monk asked, “What is the function of prajna?” Zhimen said, “The rabbit becomes pregnant.”

COMMENTARY: Zhimen’s statements, “The oyster holds the bright moon in its mouth,” and “The rabbit becomes pregnant,” both draw upon the symbolism of the Mid-Autumn moon. Although this is so, the meaning of this ancient master does not lie in the oyster or the rabbit. Zhimen was a venerable master in Yunmen’s assembly.

Each of his phrases had to contain all three phrases: the phrase that contains heaven and earth, the phrase that cuts off all streams of thought, and the phrase that follows the waves. Moreover, it accorded with the occasion without any prior arrangement. Thus he entered dangerous ground to answer the monk’s question, revealing a little of his sharp edge.

Zhimen was indeed extraordinary. Although this is so, this ancient master was not playing with luminous reflections; he merely pointed out a road to help you see.

That monk asked, “What is the essence of prajna?” Zhimen said, “The oyster holds the bright moon in its mouth.” In the Han River there is a kind of oyster containing a luminous pearl. At Mid-Autumn, when the moon appears, the oyster rises to the surface of the water and opens its mouth to hold the bright moon; thereby a pearl is formed within it. The pearls of Hepu are of precisely this kind. If there is a moon at Mid-Autumn, there are many pearls; if there is no moon, there are few pearls.

The monk also asked, “What is the function of prajna?” Zhimen said, “The rabbit becomes pregnant.” The meaning of this answer is no different from that of the preceding answer. The rabbit belongs to yin, as does the moon. At Mid-Autumn, when the moon appears, the rabbit opens its mouth and swallows the moonlight, thereby becoming pregnant and later giving birth through its mouth. Here too, if there is a moon, many young are born; if there is no moon, few are born.

There is nothing contrived in this ancient master’s answer; he merely borrowed the imagery of the story to respond concerning the light of prajna. Although this is so, Zhimen’s meaning does not lie in words. It is only because later generations gathered around and became entangled in those words. Have you not heard Panshan say, “The moon of mind is solitary and full, its radiance illuminating the myriad things. The radiance does not shine upon objects, and objects do not exist either. When radiance and objects are both forgotten, what is this?” People today merely open their eyes wide and call that radiance; they only give rise to interpretations from their own biased attachments. This is truly like driving nails and stakes into empty space.

The ancients said, “From your six sense faculties, throughout the day and night, a great light shines forth, illuminating the mountains, rivers, and the vast earth. It is not only the eye faculty that emits light; the faculties of the nose, tongue, body, and mind all emit light as well.” Having reached this point, you must cleanse your six faculties so thoroughly that not a single thing remains; only when you are free, at ease, sacred, and unfettered can you understand the essential meaning of this koan. Xuedou’s verse expresses it in this way as well.

VERSE

A single expanse of empty space beyond sense-objects,

From this, humans and devas behold the Unborn [3].

The clam enclosing the moon, the hare conceiving—profound is the hidden meaning;

Brandishing his staff, he wages war against the Chan masters.

COMMENTARY: “A single expanse of empty space beyond sense-objects.” With this one line alone, Xuedou has versified it exceedingly well, naturally revealing the meaning of the ancients. What does it mean for the six faculties to be clear and pure? It is nothing other than this single expanse of luminous emptiness, still and silent. You need not ascend to heaven to seek it, nor need you seek it from anyone else. The constant light is always manifest before our eyes. Right here, it towers aloft like a cliff ten thousand fathoms high, transcending language and perception.

Fayan wrote in his Verse on the Nature of Perfect Accomplishment: “When principle reaches its utmost, feelings and sense-objects are forgotten; how then can discourse and function be established? Everywhere, the moon on a frosty night falls upon the stream before us. Ripened fruit weighs heavily amid the troop of monkeys; distant mountains seem like a road gone astray.

Raising my head, I carry the waning moon upon my back, westward toward my home.” Thus it is said, “Mind is the faculty, phenomena are its objects; both are like marks upon a mirror. When grime and dust are exhausted, the light appears; mind and phenomena both forgotten, the nature itself is true.” It is also said, “Dwelling forever within three thatched rooms, one path of wondrous light leaves the myriad scenes at peace.

Do not judge me in terms of right and wrong; the fabrications of this floating life have nothing to do with me.” The essential purpose of these verses is simply to enable you to see the meaning of the line, “a single expanse of empty space beyond sense-objects.”

“From this, humans and devas behold the Unborn.” Do you not know the story of Subhuti sitting in meditation upon a cliff while the devas scattered flowers and offered praise? Subhuti said, “Who is it that scatters flowers through the sky and offers praise?” The heavenly being said, “I am Brahma.” Subhuti asked, “Why do you praise me?” Brahma said, “I revere the Venerable One for skillfully expounding the Prajnaparamita.” Subhuti said, “I have never spoken a single word about prajna; why then do you praise me?” Brahma said, “The Venerable One does not speak, and I do not hear; this is the true Prajnaparamita.” Then he continued to make the earth tremble and to scatter flowers like rain.

See how skillfully Subhuti expounded prajna without needing to say anything about essence or function. If you can see this point, you will understand Zhimen’s sayings, “The clam encloses the bright moon,” and “The hare conceives.”

Although the meaning of the ancients does not lie in words and phrases, how profoundly meaningful their answers are, causing Xuedou to say, “The clam enclosing the moon, the hare conceiving—profound is the hidden meaning.” At this point, “brandishing his staff, he wages war against the Chan masters.” Students of Chan throughout the world still keep avoiding the commotion, yet not one of them understands it, even in a dream. If you wish to investigate Chan together with Zhimen and Xuedou, you must cast a discerning glance.

Notes:

[1] “Varam khalu puna kacyāpa sumerumātra pudgaladrstirāsrita na tvevādhimānikasya cūnyatādrstimālinā.” Quoted from Chapter 64 of the Kasāpaparivarta, published by Baron A. von Staèl-Holstein, reprinted in 1977.

[2] The Two Vehicles are the Vehicle of the Hearers (Sravakayāna) and the Vehicle of the Solitary Buddhas (Pratyekabuddhayāna).

[3] “The Unborn” is the Chinese expression used to translate the name “Subhuti” (Tu Bồ Đề).