筠州洞山悟本禪師語錄
Chinese title:筠州洞山悟本禪師語錄
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The Master’s Dharma name was Liangjie. His family name was Yu, and he was a native of Kuaiji. When he was young, he followed his teacher in reciting the Prajnaparamita Sutra. Upon reaching the passage, “No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind,” the Master suddenly touched his face with his hand and asked his teacher:
“I have eyes, ears, a nose, and a tongue. Why does the sutra say there are none?”
The scripture teacher, astonished, said:
“I am not your teacher.”
The teacher then directed the Master to Mount Wuxie to pay homage to Chan Master Lingmo and request ordination. At the age of twenty-one, the Master went to Mount Song and received the precepts.
The Master then traveled in search of the Dharma, first paying a visit to Nanquan. It happened to be the day before the memorial meal for Mazu, and Nanquan asked the assembly, “Tomorrow we shall offer a memorial meal for Mazu. I wonder whether Mazu will come?”
No one in the assembly could answer.
The Master stepped forward and said:
“He will come as soon as he has a companion.”
Nanquan said:
“This fellow, though a latecomer, is very easy to carve and polish.”
The Master replied:
“Venerable Master, do not crush a good man and turn him into a scoundrel.”
Next, he went to study under Guishan Lingyou. The Master asked:
“I have heard that National Teacher Huizhong of Nanyang spoke of ‘insentient beings expounding the Dharma,’ but I have not yet penetrated its subtle meaning.”
Guishan said:
“Acarya, do you still remember the National Teacher’s words?”
The Master replied:
“I remember them.”
“Then try recounting them once.”
The Master accordingly recounted:
A monk once asked, “What is the mind of the ancient Buddhas?”
The National Teacher replied, “Walls, partitions, tiles, and stones.”
The monk said, “Are not walls, partitions, tiles, and stones insentient?”
The National Teacher replied, “They are.”
The monk asked, “Do they know how to expound the Dharma?”
The National Teacher replied, “They constantly expound it, ceaselessly and without interruption.”
The monk asked, “Why do I not hear it?”
The National Teacher replied, “It is you yourself who do not hear it; this does not prevent others from hearing it.”
The monk asked, “I do not know who can hear it.”
The National Teacher replied, “The sages can hear it.”
The monk asked, “Does the Venerable Master hear it?”
The National Teacher replied, “I do not hear it.”
The monk asked, “Since the Venerable Master does not hear it, how do you know that insentient beings know how to expound the Dharma?”
The National Teacher replied, “It is precisely because I do not hear it. If I heard it, I would be the same as the sages, and you would not hear me expounding the Dharma.”
The monk asked, “If so, do sentient beings have no share in it?”
The National Teacher replied, “I expound it for sentient beings, not for the sages.”
The monk asked, “What happens after sentient beings hear it?”
The National Teacher replied, “They are then no longer sentient beings.”
The monk asked, “On which scripture is the teaching that insentient beings expound the Dharma based?”
The National Teacher replied, “It is not based on any scripture whatsoever, nor is it a matter for a gentleman to discuss. Have you not seen it said in the Avatamsaka Sutra: ‘The lands expound, sentient beings expound, and everything throughout the three times expounds’?”
When the Master had finished recounting this, Guishan said:
“I too have this here, but I have not yet encountered that person.”
The Master said:
“I do not yet understand. I beg the Master to instruct me.”
Guishan raised his whisk and asked:
“Do you understand?”
“I do not understand. Please speak, Venerable Master.”
“The mouth born of father and mother can never explain it to you.”
“Is there anyone who sought the Way at the same time as you?”
“From here, go to You County in Liling, where stone chambers adjoin one another. There is a man of the Way named Yunyan. If you are capable of sweeping away ignorance and investigating the mysterious depth of the Buddhas and patriarchs, he will certainly be worthy of your esteem.”
The Master asked:
“I do not yet know what sort of person he is.”
Guishan said:
“He once asked this old monk, ‘May this student follow and serve the Master?’ This old monk replied, ‘Only when all leakage has completely ceased will it be possible.’ He said, ‘First of all, do not say that this old monk is in here.’”
The Master then took leave of Guishan and went directly to Yunyan. After recounting the preceding exchange, he asked:
“When insentient beings expound the Dharma, who can hear it?”
Yunyan replied:
“The insentient can hear it.”
“Does the Venerable Master hear it?”
“If I heard it, you could not hear me expounding the Dharma.”
“Why do I not hear it?”
Yunyan raised his whisk and asked:
“Do you hear it?”
“I do not hear it.”
“You cannot even hear me expounding the Dharma; how much less can you hear insentient beings expounding it?”
“In which scripture is the teaching that insentient beings expound the Dharma contained?”
“Have you not seen it said in the Amitabha Sutra: ‘The waters, birds, trees, and forests all invoke the Buddha and invoke the Dharma’?”
At this, the Master had an awakening and composed this verse:
Ye da qi! Ye da qi!
Wu qing shuo fa bu si yi.
Ruo jiang er ting zhong nan hui,
Yan chu wen sheng zhong de zhi.
Translation:
How wondrous! How wondrous!
Insentient beings expounding the Dharma is inconceivable.
If one listens with the ears, it is ultimately difficult to understand;
Only when the eye hears the sound can one finally comprehend.
The Master asked Yunyan:
“Have my remaining habitual tendencies not yet been exhausted?”
“What have you ever done?”
“I have not even practiced the holy truths.”
“Have you experienced joy?”
“It is not that there is no joy; it is like finding a bright jewel in a heap of refuse.”
The Master asked Yunyan:
“What should one do when wishing to meet face-to-face?”
“Ask someone versed in the matter.”
“I am asking right now.”
“What are you saying?”
While Yunyan was making straw sandals, the Master approached and asked:
“May I have the Master’s eyes?”
“With whom did you go?”
“Liangjie did not go with anyone.”
“If there was no one, where would you put them?”
The Master could not answer.
Yunyan said:
“Are the eyes you ask for truly eyes?”
“They are not within the eyes.”
Yunyan then shouted and drove him out.
As the Master took leave of Yunyan, Yunyan asked:
“Where are you going?”
“Though I am leaving the Venerable Master, I have not yet chosen a place to reside.”
“Are you not going to Hunan?”
“No.”
“Are you not returning to your native place?”
“No.”
“When will you return?”
“I shall return when the Venerable Master has a place to abide.”
“After this parting, it will be difficult for us to meet again.”
“It will be difficult for us not to meet again.”
As he was about to depart, the Master asked:
“After the Venerable Master has lived out your years, if someone suddenly asks me, ‘Can you portray your Master’s likeness?’ how should I answer?”
Yunyan remained silent for a long while, then said:
“Acarya Jie! In taking up this great matter, you must examine it carefully.”
The Master still harbored doubts.
Later, while crossing a stream, he saw his reflection in the water and attained great awakening to the meaning of the previous teaching. He composed this verse:
Qie ji cong ta mi,
Tiao tiao yu wo shu.
Wo jin du zi wang,
Chu chu de feng qu.
Qu jin zheng shi wo,
Wo jin bu shi qu.
Ying xu ren me hui,
Fang de qi ru ru.
Translation:
Take utmost care not to seek it elsewhere,
For then it remains ever distant from me.
Now I go on alone,
Yet everywhere I encounter him.
He now is truly me,
Yet I am not now him.
One must understand in this way
To accord with suchness.
On another occasion, while making offerings to the spirit of Yunyan, a monk asked:
“The late Master said, ‘Just this.’ Is that so?”
The Master replied:
“Yes.”
“What is its essential meaning?”
“At that time, how many people misunderstood the late Master’s meaning!”
“I do not know whether the late Master possessed true understanding.”
“If he did not possess true understanding, how could he have known to speak in this way? If he did possess true understanding, how could he have consented to speak in this way?”
Changqing Ling asked:
“Since he possessed true understanding, why did he speak in this way?”
The Master replied:
“Only after raising a child does one understand a father’s loving-kindness.”
During a memorial meal for Yunyan, a monk asked:
“What instruction did the Venerable Master receive while with Yunyan?”
The Master replied:
“Although I was there with him, I received no instruction.”
“Since you received no instruction, why hold a memorial meal for him?”
“How would I dare turn my back on the late Master?”
“The Venerable Master first paid a visit to Nanquan. Why then do you hold a memorial meal for Yunyan?”
“I do not esteem the late Master’s virtue or Buddhadharma; I esteem only that the late Master did not explain everything to me.”
“Although the Venerable Master holds a memorial meal for the late Master, do you acknowledge him as your teacher?”
“I acknowledge him halfway and do not acknowledge him halfway.”
“Why do you not acknowledge him completely?”
“If I acknowledged him completely, I would have failed the late Master!”
Toward the end of the Dazhong era of the Tang dynasty (847), the Master resided on Mount Xinfeng, where he received and guided the assembly of disciples. Later, his teaching flourished at Dongshan in Gao'an, Yuzhang. Provisionally revealing the Five Ranks, he skillfully received those of the three capacities—the great, middling, and lesser capacities.
He greatly proclaimed the One Sound and broadly propagated the myriad teachings. Drawing the precious sword crosswise, he cut down the dense forest of views; raising aloft the wondrous leaves of the teaching, he severed the myriad distortions. Moreover, Caoshan deeply illumined the essential purport, skillfully expounded the excellent path, and brought the Way into accord with Host and Guest, with the Relative and the Absolute turning back upon and interpenetrating one another.
Thus the Chan tradition of the Caodong School spread everywhere, and eminent masters throughout the regions honored it together as the “Dong-Cao School.”
Yunyan instructed the assembly:
– There is a child of a certain household who, whenever questioned, can say nothing that is not correct.
The Master stepped forward and asked:
– How many books are there in his house?
The Master answered:
– Not even a single character.
– How, then, does he know so much?
– Day and night, he has never slept.
– May I ask him about one matter?
– Though he could speak, he does not speak.
The rector returned from Shishi's dwelling. Yunyan asked:
– You went to Shishi's dwelling; why have you returned so quickly?
The rector could not answer.
The Master answered in his place:
– Someone inside had already seen to it!
Yunyan asked the Master:
– Then how would you go?
The Master replied:
– Human feeling cannot be utterly cut off.
Yunyan asked a nun:
– Is your father still alive?
The nun replied:
– He is.
– How old is he?
– Eighty years old.
– You have a father who is not eighty years old. Do you know him?
– Is he the one who comes thus?
– You are still only a child or grandchild.
The Master said:
– Even if he were not the one who comes thus, you would still be only a child or grandchild.
The Master traveled to consult teachers in various places. When he reached Luzhu, he bowed, stood in attendance, and after a short while went out, then came in again. Luzhu said:
– Just thus, just thus; therefore, it is thus.
The Master replied:
– For the most part, there are people who do not accept it.
Luzhu said:
– How could it be discerned by your mouth?
The Master bowed and then remained in attendance for several months.
A monk asked Luzhu:
– What is speaking without speaking?
Luzhu replied:
– Where is your mouth?
– There is no mouth.
– Without a mouth, what do you use to eat rice?
The monk could not answer.
The Master answered in his place:
– He is not hungry; why should he eat rice?
The Master went to consult Nanyuan. Just as he ascended the Dharma hall, Nanyuan said:
– We have already met.
The Master immediately descended. The next day, he returned and asked:
– Yesterday I received the Venerable's compassionate instruction, but I do not know where the Venerable and I met.
Nanyuan said:
– Mind after mind, without interruption, flows into the stream of the nature.
The Master replied:
– Setting aside all that accords.
When the Master took leave of Nanyuan, Nanyuan said:
– Study the Buddha-Dharma extensively and bring benefit on a broad scale.
The Master replied:
– I do not ask about studying the Buddha-Dharma extensively. What is bringing benefit on a broad scale?
Nanyuan answered:
– Do not turn against a single thing.
The Master went to the capital region and bowed to Venerable Xingping. Xingping said:
– Do not bow to this old fellow!
The Master replied:
– I bow to that which does not grow old.
– That which does not grow old does not accept bows.
– Nor does it remain still.
The Master further asked:
– What is the mind of the ancient Buddhas?
Xingping answered:
– It is precisely your own mind.
– Although it is thus, this is still the place of my doubt.
– If so, go and ask a wooden man.
– I have one statement that does not rely upon the mouths of the sages.
– Try saying it!
– It is not I.
As the Master took his leave, Xingping asked:
– Where are you going?
– Following the current, without remaining in any fixed place.
– Is it the Dharma-body that follows the current, or the reward-body that follows the current?
– Ultimately, I do not give rise to such an interpretation.
Xingping then clapped his hands.
Baofu said:
Dongshan by himself constitutes a whole house. How many people like Dongshan can be found?
The Master and Mishi Bo went to consult Boyan. Boyan asked:
– Where have you come from?
The Master replied:
– Hunan.
– What is the surname of the Surveillance Commissioner?
– He has no surname.
– What is his given name?
– He has no name.
– Does he administer affairs or not?
– He naturally has a deputy official already!
– Does he come and go?
– He neither comes nor goes.
– Why does he neither come nor go?
The Master brushed off his robe and departed. The next day, Boyan entered the Sangha hall, summoned the two senior monks, and said:
– Yesterday, in my exchange with you acaryas, there was a turning phrase with which I could not accord, and so I was uneasy throughout the night. Now I ask the acaryas to offer another turning phrase. If it accords with my meaning, I shall invite you to have gruel and remain as my companions through the summer retreat.
– Venerable, please ask your question.
– Why does he neither come nor go?
– How supremely honored!
Boyan immediately invited them to have gruel and remain through the summer retreat.
Tiantong Jie said:
– Entering in the morning and according in the evening, he displayed every kind of skill. Without immediately transgressing, there is a way to turn the body. Under the gate of Caodong, this is sufficient to reflect the radiance; but if they were descendants of Linji, even after their staffs had broken, they still would not be spared. At that time, if I had heard him say that he did not know the name or surname, I would immediately have struck him once. If one can thrust the body forth and turn it here, not only may gruel be prepared and offered, but one may also be given a place beneath the bright window. Is there such a person? Is there? I proclaim: “Tongshan! Go to the Chan hall.”
The Master and Mishi Bo went to pay their respects and inquire after Venerable Longshan's health. The old monk asked:
– This mountain has no road. From where have you acaryas come?
The Master replied:
– Let us set aside that there is no road. From where did the Venerable enter?
The old monk answered:
– I did not come from clouds and waters.
– How long has the Venerable dwelt on this mountain?
– It does not adhere to spring and autumn.
– Was the Venerable here first, or was this mountain here first?
– I do not know.
– Why do you not know?
– I did not come from among humans or devas.
– What principle of the Way did the Venerable attain that you dwell on this mountain?
– I saw two clay oxen contending as they entered the sea. To this very day, all news of them has utterly ceased.
Only then did the Master arrange his deportment fully and bow.
While journeying on foot, the Master met an official who asked:
– May this disciple compose a commentary on the Third Patriarch Sengcan's “Inscription on Faith in Mind”?
The Master answered:
– “The moment right and wrong arise, the mind is lost in confusion” (Cai you shi fei, fen ran shi xin). How will you comment on that?
Fayan answered in his place:
– If so, this disciple will not compose a commentary.
When the Master first set out on foot, he met an old woman carrying water along the road and asked her for a drink. The old woman said:
– You may freely drink the water, but I have a question that you must answer first: “Tell me, how many kinds of sensory dust does the water contain?”
The Master answered:
– It does not contain any of the sensory dusts.
The old woman said:
– Go away! Do not soil my load of water.
While the Master was staying at Letan, he saw Head Monk Chu say:
– Most wondrous! Most wondrous! The realm of the Buddhas and the realm of the Way are inconceivable.
The Master then asked:
– I do not ask about the realm of the Buddhas or the realm of the Way. Who is it who is now speaking of the realm of the Buddhas and the realm of the Way?
Chu remained silent for a long while and did not answer.
The Master said:
– Why do you not speak quickly?
– Even if I contended, I could not succeed.
– You have not yet said anything at all. What do you mean, “Even if I contended, I could not succeed”?
Chu did not answer.
The Master said:
– Buddha and the Way are both merely names and words. Why do you not cite the teachings?
Chu said:
– What would you have me say?
– Attain the meaning and forget the words.
– You are still using meaning to teach; it has already become a sickness of the mind.
– Is speaking of the realm of the Buddhas and the realm of the Way a great sickness or a minor sickness?
Chu did not answer. The next day, Chu suddenly passed away. People called the Master “the One Who Questioned Head Monk Chu to Death.”
The Master, Shenshan, and Mishi Bo were crossing a stream when the Master asked:
– What is the matter of crossing the stream?
Shenshan answered:
– The heels are not wet.
The Master said:
– Old fellow, why utter such words?
Shenshan said:
– What about you?
The Master answered:
– The heels do not get wet.
Another version says:
The Master and Shenshan were crossing a stream. The Master said:
– Do not make a mistake beneath your feet!
Shenshan said:
– If I made a mistake, I could not cross.
The Master asked:
– What is the matter of not making a mistake?
Shenshan answered:
– Crossing the stream together with the elder.
One day, the Master and Shenshan were hoeing the tea garden. The Master set down his hoe and said:
– Today I have not the slightest strength left.
Shenshan said:
– If there is no strength left, how can one know to speak in this way?
The Master said:
– What strength do you suppose there is?
The Master was walking with Shenshan when suddenly they saw a white rabbit run past. Shenshan said:
– How excellent!
The Master asked:
– How so?
– It looks exactly like a white-robed one bowing in homage.
– Old man, why utter such words?
– What would you say?
– Having borne the hairpins and tassels of nobility all his life, he has momentarily lost his wits.
Shenshan was holding a needle and sewing. The Master asked:
– What are you doing?
– Holding a needle.
– What is the matter of holding the needle like?
– Needle after needle, mutually assisting.
– We have traveled together for twenty years, yet you still utter such words. How could this be the result of practice?
– What would the Elder say?
– The principle is like the great earth bursting into flames.
Shenshan asked the Master:
– Those whose knowledge has penetrated invariably go forth to spread the teaching. Concerning the direct point, I ask the Master for one word.
The Master said:
– How could the Elder Dharma-Brother's intent preserve any merit?
At these words, Shenshan suddenly awakened and uttered extraordinary words. Later, while crossing a log bridge with the Master, the Master crossed first, lifted the bridge pole in his hand, and said:
– Cross over!
Shenshan called:
– Acarya Jie!
The Master then lowered the bridge pole.
While walking with Shenshan, the Master pointed to a monastery beside the road and said:
– There is someone in that monastery speaking of mind and speaking of nature.
Shenshan asked:
– Who is it?
– The moment he was questioned by the Elder Dharma-Brother, he died tenfold.
– Then who is speaking of mind and speaking of nature?
– Within death, he attained life.
The Master asked Xuefeng:
– Where have you come from?
Xuefeng replied:
– From Tiantai.
– Did you see Zhizhe?
– Yicun deserves a blow from the iron staff.
Xuefeng came forward, bowed, and inquired after the Master's health. The Master said:
Upon entering the gate, you must have a word, but you must not say that you have already entered.
Xuefeng replied:
– I have no mouth.
– Set aside having no mouth for the moment; give me back my eye.
Xuefeng could not answer.
Yunju Ying offered an alternative reply to the preceding words:
– When I have a mouth, I shall speak at once.
Changqing offered an alternative reply: “If so, I respectfully withdraw.”
Xuefeng was carrying firewood. He came before the Master and threw down the bundle. The Master asked:
– How heavy is it?
Xuefeng replied:
– All the people in this world could not lift it.
The Master asked:
– Then how did it get here?
Xuefeng could not answer.
The Master wrote the character “ ” (“Buddha”) on the door. Yunyan saw it and wrote the character “ ” (“not”) beside it. The Master then changed it to the character “ ” (“non-”). When Xuefeng saw this, he wiped them all away at once.
Xinghua Xiang spoke in his place:
– I am not equal to you.
Baiyang Shun said:
– If I were Dongshan, I would simply have said to Xuefeng: “You are not one of my kin.”
Tianbo Yuan said:
– Dongshan and Yunyan raised a mound on level ground; old Xuefeng took this occasion to increase his wisdom.
Xuefeng served as head cook. While winnowing rice, the Master asked:
– Are you sifting out the sand and leaving the rice, or sifting out the rice and leaving the sand?
Xuefeng replied:
– Rice and sand are both discarded at once.
– What will the assembly eat?
Xuefeng immediately overturned the basin of rice.
The Master said:
– Judging from these causes and conditions, you are suited to be with Deshan.
Langye Jiao said:
– For Xuefeng to depart in this way was like cutting down a sweet peach tree to search the mountains for sour pears.
Tiantong Jiao said:
– Xuefeng ascended higher with every step, never expecting the heel of his straw sandal to split and break. Had Correct and偏 moved in harmonious interchange, with Sao and Chang proceeding side by side (1), their words and energies would naturally have accorded, and father and son would have been harmonious and dutiful. Tell me, what was Dongshan's intent in not accepting Xuefeng? Across ten thousand miles, the cloudless sky is at fault; in the clear pool, bright as a mirror, the moon finds it difficult to enter.
Xuedou Zong said:
– Phoenixes do not alight on crooked trees; the golden needle has already embroidered the paired mandarin ducks. Were it not for the Old Man of Xinfeng, it would immediately have shattered into fragments.
((1) Sao: the student knocks at the door of the Chan Master's chamber to inquire about the principle of the Way.
Chang: the Chan Master replies in order to receive and guide the student.
Sao and Chang are the house style of the Caodong School.
When the questions and answers between master and disciple continue without the slightest gap, this is called “Sao and Chang Proceeding Side by Side.”
This is one of the three essential principles of Dongshan Liangjie.)
One day, the Master asked Xuefeng:
– What are you doing?
Xuefeng replied:
– Hewing a trough.
– How many strokes will finish it?
– One stroke will finish it.
– That is still the matter on this side. What about the matter on the other side?
– There is certainly nowhere to lay a hand upon it.
– That is still the matter on this side. What about the matter on the other side?
Xuefeng silently walked out.
When Xuefeng took leave of the Master, the Master asked:
– Where are you going?
Xuefeng replied:
– Back into the mountains.
– By what road did you originally come out?
– I came out by the road where the apes fly across the mountains.
– By what road will you return now?
– By the road where the apes fly across the mountains.
– There is one person who travels without taking the road where the apes fly across the mountains. Do you know him?
– I do not know him.
– Why do you not know him?
– He has no face or features.
– Since you do not know him, how do you know that he has no face or features?
Xuefeng could not answer.
Yunju Daoying came for instruction. The Master asked:
– Where have you come from?
Yunju replied:
– From Cuiwei.
– What words and phrases did Cuiwei use to instruct the assembly?
– Cuiwei was making offerings to the arhats. I asked, “When offerings are made to the arhats, do the arhats come?” Cuiwei asked me, “What do you eat each day?”
The Master asked:
– Did he truly say this?
Yunju replied:
– He did.
The Master said:
– You did not visit an adept in vain.
The Master asked Yunju:
– What is your name?
– Daoying.
– Speak again from the standpoint of the transcendent.
– From the standpoint of the transcendent, the name is not Daoying.
– Your answer resembles mine when I was at Daowu.
Yunju asked:
– What is the meaning of the Patriarch's coming from the West?
The Master said:
– Acarya! In the future, when you go forth to serve as an abbot, if someone asks you this, how will you answer?
Yunju replied:
– Daoying is truly at fault.
One day, the Master asked Yunju:
– I have heard that Great Master Si was reborn as the king of Japan. Is this so?
Yunju replied:
– If it were Great Master Si, he would not even become a Buddha.
The Master nodded.
The Master asked Yunju:
– Where have you come from?
Yunju replied:
– I came from treading the mountains.
– On which mountain could you abide?
– On which mountain could I not abide?
– If so, the whole country has been completely occupied by the Acarya.
– It is not so.
– If so, you have found the road of entry.
– There is no road.
– If there is no road, how did you come to meet this old monk?
– If there were a road, I would be separated from the Venerable by a mountain.
– In the future, not even a thousand or ten thousand people will be able to hold this fellow fast.
While crossing a stream with Yunju, the Master asked:
– How deep is the stream?
Yunju replied:
– Not wet.
– Crude fellow!
– Master, please speak.
– Not dry.
Wuzu Yan said:
– In speaking this dialogue, was there any superiority or inferiority between the two? Today this mountain monk moves his arm and explains it for you: with the phrase “crossing the stream without getting wet,” the storehouse is piled high with genuine pearls; with the phrase “crossing the stream without getting dry,” would one without even an awl be considered utterly destitute? Neither the dry path nor the wet path adheres to anything; let him speak as he will of clear waters and green mountains.
One day, while Yunju was working, he accidentally killed an insect. The Master said:
– You evil demon!
Yunju replied:
– It did not die.
– What did the Second Patriarch go to Yezhou for?
Yunju could not answer.
The Master asked Yunju:
– When a great icchantika commits the five heinous offenses, where does filial devotion lie?
Yunju replied:
– Only then is filial devotion fulfilled.
The Master said to Yunju:
– Long ago, Nanquan asked a monk who lectured on the Sutra of Maitreya's Descent: “When will Maitreya descend and be born?” The monk replied, “He is presently still in the heavenly palace and will descend and be born in the future.” Nanquan said, “In heaven there is no Maitreya; on earth there is no Maitreya.”
Following these words, Yunju asked:
– If so, there is no Maitreya in heaven and no Maitreya on earth. Then I wonder, who gave him that name?
This question caused even the Master's meditation platform to tremble. He then said:
– Acarya Ying! When I was staying with Yunyan, I once asked the old man a question that caused even the stove to tremble. Today, one question from you has made my whole body break out in a sweat.
Later, Yunju built a hermitage at Sanfeng. For an entire week he did not come to the refectory. The Master asked:
– Why have I not seen you come to take your meals lately?
Yunju replied:
– Every day a heavenly deity brings me food.
– I thought that you were still giving rise to conceptual understanding. Come here again this evening.
That evening, Yunju came. The Master called:
– Hermitage Master Ying!
Yunju answered:
– Yes.
The Master said:
– Not thinking of good and not thinking of evil—what is it?
Yunju returned to his hermitage and sat silently and still. From then on, the heavenly deity searched everywhere but could not find him. After three days of this, the offerings ceased.
The Master asked Yunju:
– What are you doing?
Yunju replied:
– Blending the ingredients.
– How much salt are you using?
– Turned inward.
– What flavor are you making?
– Attained.
Shushan arrived while the Master was giving the early-morning instruction. He stepped forward and asked:
– Before any such words have arisen, I ask the Master to instruct me.
The Master said:
– If it is not granted, there is no one to receive it.
– Can merit be attained or not?
– Have you attained merit now?
– If merit cannot be attained, then there is nothing to avoid.
One day, the Master ascended the hall and said:
– If you wish to understand this matter, you must be like a withered tree blossoming; only then will you accord with it.
Shushan asked:
– What if one does not go against it anywhere?
The Master said:
– Acarya! This is a matter on the side of meritorious achievement. Fortunately, there is the merit of no-merit; why do you not ask about that?
– Is not the merit of no-merit precisely the person on the other side?
– Most people would laugh at you for asking in that way.
– If so, it is already far away.
– Far away, yet not far away; not that it is not far away.
– What is far away?
– You cannot call it the person on the other side.
– What is not far away?
– There is no place for discussion.
The Master asked Shushan:
– In the age of emptiness, when there are no people, whose dwelling place is it?
Shushan replied:
– I do not know.
– Does that person have an essential meaning or not?
– Why does the Venerable not ask him?
– I am asking him right now.
– What is the essential meaning?
The Master did not answer.
Qinglin Shiqian came to consult the Master. The Master asked:
– From where have you just come?
Qinglin replied:
– Wuling.
– What does the Dharma taught at Wuling resemble here?
– In winter, bamboo shoots grow in the land of Hu.
– Cook a special pot of fragrant rice as an offering to this man.
Qinglin brushed off his robe and walked out.
The Master said:
– Later, this fellow will kill everyone under heaven.
Gushan Yong said:
– With such an exchange, even a single drop of water would be difficult to digest. Why cook a special pot of fragrant rice?
One day, Qinglin took leave of the Master. The Master asked:
– Where are you going?
Qinglin replied:
– The golden carriage leaves no trace; throughout the realm, the red dust is cut off.
The Master said:
– Take good care of yourself.
Qinglin bade farewell and went out. The Master escorted him to the gate and said to Qinglin:
– How would you express such a statement?
Qinglin replied:
– Step after step treads upon the red dust, yet the whole body leaves no shadow or trace.
The Master remained silent for a long while. Qinglin said:
– Old Venerable, why do you not speak quickly?
The Master said:
– You have acquired such a quick disposition.
Qinglin replied:
– I am at fault.
Qinglin immediately bowed in homage, bade farewell, and departed.
Longya asked Deshan:
– I hold the sword of Moye(1) and wish to take the Master's head. What then?
Deshan stretched out his neck and said:
– Oh!
Longya said:
– Your head has fallen.
Deshan laughed, “Ha! Ha!”
Longya came to Dongshan and recounted the preceding exchange. The Master asked, “What did Deshan say?”
Longya replied:
– Deshan said nothing.
The Master said:
– Do not say that Deshan said nothing. Bring me Deshan's fallen head and let this old monk see it.
Longya then awakened and asked for forgiveness.
Later, someone recounted this to Deshan. Deshan said:
– Dongshan does not know what is good and what is bad. That fellow has already been dead for so many hours; what use is there in saving him?
((1). A famous sword of antiquity.
During the Wu period in China, there was a renowned swordsmith named Gan Jiang, whose wife was named Mo Ye. The two served King Helü of Wu and forged two swords: the yang sword was named Gan Jiang, and the yin sword was named Mo Ye. The Chan school borrowed this term to indicate the wisdom inherent in every person, or the prajna insight that a Chan master freely and unhinderedly employs in guiding students.)
Baofu Zhan commented:
– Longya knew only how to advance; he did not know how to withdraw.
Cuiyan Zhi said:
– Should Longya have cut or not cut? Right now, how would he cut?
Dongchan Guan said:
– Longya embraced the sword and wounded himself, thereby bringing guilt upon himself. Deshan was mastered by the head. Fortunately, when a token of Deshan's pivotal working was suddenly exposed by Dongshan, his tail naturally showed.
Longya asked:
– What is the meaning of the Patriarch's coming from the West?
The Master replied:
– When the waters of the Dong River flow backward, I will tell you.
Longya then awakened to the essential meaning.
Huayan Xiujing asked the Master:
– This student does not know the path of principle and has not yet escaped being dragged about by discriminating consciousness.
The Master said:
– Do you see the path of principle or not?
– I see that there is no path of principle.
– Where are you caught by discriminating consciousness?
– This student is asking sincerely.
– If so, you must go to the place where, for ten thousand miles, there is not a single inch of grass.
– Will you allow me to go to the place where, for ten thousand miles, there is not a single inch of grass?
– You must go in just this way.
While Huayan was carrying firewood, the Master seized him and held him still, asking:
– What is it like when we meet on a narrow road?
Huayan replied:
– Treachery! Treachery!
– Remember my words: “If you reside facing south, you will have one thousand people; but if you reside facing north, you will have only three hundred.”
Qinshan came to consult the Master. The Master asked:
– From where have you come?
Qinshan replied:
– From Daci.
– Did you see Daci?
– I saw him.
– Did you see him before form or after form?
– I did not see any before or after.
The Master nodded.
Qinshan then said:
– I left the Master too soon and therefore could not fully fathom your meaning.
Qinshan, Yantou, and Xuefeng were sitting together. The Master prepared tea and brought it to them, whereupon Qinshan closed his eyes. The Master asked:
– From where have you come?
Qinshan replied:
– I have come from entering samadhi.
The Master asked:
– Samadhi fundamentally has no gate. Through what place did you enter?
An old adept answered on his behalf:
– Many people understand it in this way.
Xuedou Xian said separately:
– At that time, I would merely have pointed at Yantou and Xuefeng and said, “Doze off and drink tea with those two fellows.”
Beiyuan Tong came to consult the Master. The Master ascended the hall and said:
– Sit and cut off the master within; do not fall into a second view.
Tong stepped forward before the assembly and said:
– You must know that there is one person with whom you should not become companions.
The Master said:
– That is still the second view.
Tong immediately overturned the meditation platform.
The Master asked:
– Elder brother, what do you say?
Tong replied:
– When my tongue has rotted away, I will tell the Venerable.
Later, Tong took leave of the Master, intending to enter the mountains.
The Master said:
– Take care! The flying ape returns to the mountains—pay attention.
Tong remained silent for a long while.
The Master called:
– Acarya Tong!
Tong answered:
– Yes!
The Master said:
– Why do you not go into the mountains?
At this, Tong experienced an awakening and did not enter the mountains.
Daoquan asked the Master:
– What is the essential meaning of liberation?
The Master replied:
– Smoke arises beneath the Acarya's feet.
Quan immediately awakened in accord and never went elsewhere.
Yunju said:
– I shall never fail the Venerable: “Smoke arises beneath the feet.”
The Master said:
– Each wondrous step is the arrival of meritorious achievement.
At the Winter Solstice, Head Seat Tai and the Master were sitting and eating fruit. The Master then asked:
– There is a thing that supports heaven above and upholds the earth below, black as lacquer, always present within activity and function, yet within activity and function it cannot be grasped. Say, where does the fault lie?
Head Monk Thái replied:
– The fault lies within activity and function.
Đồng An Hiển said separately:
– I do not know.
The Master called the attendant to clear away the tray of fruit.
Lang Da Giác said:
– Were it not for the Old Man of Động Sơn, how could this have been revealed? Even so, Động Sơn was still lacking one maneuver.
Qui Sơn Triết said:
– Do you know Động Sơn’s place? If you do not, you will forever give rise to interpretations of right and wrong, gain and loss.
This mountain monk says:
– Not only was the Head Monk unable to eat that fruit, but no one in the entire world has the true eye with which to behold it.
Vân Cái Bổn said:
– Though Động Sơn had hammer and tongs capable of smashing empty space, he had no needle and thread with which to mend it. When the monk said, “The fault lies within activity and function,” he needed only to say, “Head Monk, please eat some fruit.” If Head Monk Thái had been a true patch-robed monk, after eating it he would still have had to vomit it all out.
Nam Đường Tĩnh said:
– Động Sơn sat behind the curtain and determined victory a thousand miles away; Head Monk Thái’s whole body was a mouth—he had the principle, but it was difficult to express.
Qui Sơn Quả said:
– Động Sơn falsely accused an innocent child and made him into a thief. Head Monk Thái had the principle, but it was difficult to express. This mountain monk, seeing such injustice, feels ashamed. At the time, upon hearing such a question, I would merely have said, “Even the prophecy bestowed at the assembly on Vulture Peak did not go so far as this.” Then, while he was pondering, I would have seized the fruit and thrown it in his face. This would not only have stopped up his throat, but would also have kept later people from giving rise to deluded conjectures.
Tịnh Từ Xương said:
– Though Động Sơn managed to clear away the tray of fruit, he could not stop Head Monk Thái’s mouth.
Seeing Senior Monk U arrive, the Master rose and went to stand behind the meditation couch. U asked:
– Why does the Venerable turn away from me?
The Master replied:
– I thought that the Ācārya did not see this old monk.
While the Master was tending the glutinous rice, he saw Senior Monk Lãng approaching. The Master said:
– This ox must be carefully watched, lest it damage other people’s rice seedlings.
Lãng replied:
– If it is a well-trained ox, it will not trespass upon other people’s rice seedlings.
A monk asked Master Thù Du:
– What is the conduct of a śramaṇa?
Thù Du replied:
– It is not that there is no conduct, but the moment there is awareness of it, one goes astray.
Another monk related this to the Master. The Master said:
– Why did you not ask, “It is not yet known what conduct this is?”
The monk then related these words to Thù Du. Thù Du said:
– The conduct of a Buddha, the conduct of a Buddha.
The monk returned and related this to the Master. The Master said:
– U Châu resembles Khả; Tân La suffers most of all.
Đông Thiền Tề commented:
– Is there any doubt or error in these words? If there is, say where they fall short. If there is not, why did he then say that Tân La suffers most of all? Can you examine this and bring it forth? He said, “It is not that there is no conduct, but the moment there is awareness of it, one goes astray.” When asked in return, “What conduct is it?” he again said, “The conduct of a Buddha.” Did that monk ask after understanding, or did he ask before understanding? Please judge and see.
A monk asked the Master:
– What is the conduct of a śramaṇa?
The Master said:
– A head three feet long and a neck two inches long.
The Master sent his attendant to ask Venerable Tam Thánh Nhiên this question. Tam Thánh pinched the attendant’s hand once. The attendant returned and related this to the Master, who nodded.
Venerable Mễ of Kinh Triệu sent a monk to ask Ngưỡng Sơn:
– In the present age, is there cultivation and awakening?
Ngưỡng Sơn replied:
– Awakening is certainly not absent, but how can one avoid falling into the secondary?
Venerable Mễ again sent the monk to ask the Master:
– Ultimately, how is this matter?
The Master replied:
– You must ask him again; only then will it do.
Minister Trần asked:
– Among the twenty-five bodhisattvas, why is Diệu Giác not seen?
The Master replied:
– Minister, you personally see Diệu Giác!
An official asked:
– Is there anyone who cultivates the Way?
The Master replied:
– Wait until you become a man; then there will be cultivation.
The Master instructed the assembly:
– Brothers! At the beginning of autumn and the end of the summer retreat, as you travel east and west, you must reach the place where for ten thousand miles there is not a single inch of grass. Only then will it do.
The Master was silent for a long while, then said:
– In that case, how does one travel to the place where for ten thousand miles there is not a single inch of grass?
Later, someone related this to Thạch Sương. Thạch Sương said:
– Why did no one say, “Once outside the gate, there is grass”?
When the Master heard this, he said:
– How many people like this are there in the Great Tang realm?
Đại Dương Huyền said:
– Today I say directly: even without going out the gate, grass is everywhere. Say, where is the practice to be found?
After a long while, he said:
– Do not cling to the cold mountain where the grass is of another kind;
Sitting stuck amid white clouds, the essential teaching is not wondrous.
Bạch Vân Đoan said:
– If you can see the Hermitage Master, you can immediately see Động Sơn; if you can see Động Sơn, you can immediately see the Hermitage Master. Seeing Động Sơn is easy; seeing the Hermitage Master is difficult, for he was not bound by the duties of an abbot. Have you not heard it said:
“Clouds at the mountain peak are idly never at rest;
The stream at the bottom of the ravine is exceedingly busy!”
Qui Sơn Quả said:
– Cutting through nails and severing iron, he threw wide open the profound gate of the matter beyond. With truthful words, he showed people the essential path. Say, how do you understand, “Once outside the gate, there is grass”? Thạch Sương spoke thus; you must not meddle with it. If you meddle with it, you will receive thirty blows.
Kính Sơn Quả said:
– A single drop of lion’s milk dissolves ten pecks of donkey’s milk.
A monk asked:
– If I wish to see the Venerable’s original teacher, how may I see him?
The Master replied:
– If your age and teeth are alike, there will be no obstruction.
As the monk was about to speak, the Master said:
– Do not follow the former tracks; ask another question.
The monk could not answer.
Vân Cư answered in his stead:
– If so, then I shall not see the Venerable’s original teacher!
Later, Senior Monk Kiểu raised this and asked Trường Khánh:
– What does it mean for age and teeth to be alike?
Trường Khánh replied:
– The ancient spoke thus; Ācārya Kiểu, what else are you seeking here?
A monk asked:
– When cold and heat arrive, how can one avoid them?
The Master said:
– Why not go to the place where there is neither cold nor heat?
– What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat?
– When it is cold, the cold kills the Ācārya; when it is hot, the heat kills the Ācārya.
Đầu Tử Đồng said:
– How many people can reach such a place?
Lang Da Giác said:
– I would not put it that way. What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat? Then he entered the Sangha hall.
Vân Cư Vũ said:
– Lang Da uttered this notion, but this mountain monk would not put it that way. What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat? During the three months of winter, light a fire for warmth; during the nine months of summer, enjoy the cool breeze.
Bảo Phong Văn said:
– Great assembly, if you understand this, you may freely sport in spiritual powers; whenever cold or heat arrives, it will have nothing to do with you. If you do not understand, then within cold and heat you will pass from winter into summer.
Thượng Phong Tài said:
– Động Sơn’s single phrase may be said to have host and guest interpenetrating, the upright and the inclined adhering to one another. Now, where will you turn to avoid them? I ask you: do you understand or not?
Lặc Đàm Chuẩn said:
– For one who is such a person, even water is hot; for one who is not such a person, even fire is cold!
The Master ascended the Dharma hall and instructed the assembly:
– Is there anyone who does not repay the four benefactions and the three realms?
The assembly could not answer.
The Master again said:
– If you cannot realize this principle, how will you escape the ailments of before and after? Mind after mind must not touch any thing; step after step must have no abiding place. Only by remaining uninterrupted at all times can you accord with it. You must exert yourselves; do not idly pass the days.
The Master asked a monk:
– Where have you come from?
The monk replied:
– I have come from wandering in the mountains.
– Did you reach the summit?
– I did.
– Was there anyone on the summit?
– There was no one.
– If so, then you have not yet reached the summit.
– If I had not reached the summit, how could I know that there was no one there?
– Why did you not remain there for a while?
– I do not refuse to abide, but in the Western Heaven there is someone who will not accept it.
– I have always had doubts about this fellow.
A monk asked:
– What is the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West?
The Master replied:
– It is exactly like fearing a chicken’s crow.
A monk asked:
– A snake is swallowing a frog: is it right to save it, or is it right not to save it?
The Master replied:
– If you save it, both eyes will not see the road; if you do not save it, neither form nor shadow will appear.
There was a sick monk who wished to visit the Master but was unable to walk, so the Master went to see him. The monk asked:
– Why does the Venerable not save people’s children?
The Master asked:
– Whose child are you?
– I am a child of the household of the great icchantika.
The Master remained silent for a long while.
The monk asked:
– What is it like when the four mountains press in?
– In former days, this old monk also passed beneath another’s eaves to come through here.
– Is there mutual turning, or is there no mutual turning?
– There is no mutual turning.
– Where does the Venerable instruct me to go?
– Go into the rice fields.
The monk gave a sigh and said:
– I bid you farewell.
The monk immediately sat and passed away.
The Master struck him three times on the head with his staff and said:
– You are only adept at departing in this way, but not adept at arriving in this way.
Zhaojue Qin said:
– All wayfarers must, above all, penetrate this one matter. That monk was already a child of the household of the great icchantika; when the four mountains pressed in and his hands and feet trembled, had Dongshan, rich in compassion, not let down a single thread and spoken smoothly to him, how could he have departed so skillfully? Therefore, an ancient said: “At the time of death, if even the slightest trace of ordinary sentiment or estimation of sagehood remains unexhausted, one cannot avoid entering a donkey’s womb or a horse’s belly.” That being so, Dongshan said: “I too passed beneath another’s eaves.” Was he obstructed by the four mountains, or was he not obstructed by the four mountains? Upon reaching this point, only when the bottom has fallen out of the bucket will it do. Say, what was Dongshan’s meaning? Do you understand?
The golden cock pecks through the shell of lapis lazuli;
The jade rabbit flings wide the gate of the blue sea.
Once, during an evening consultation when no lamps had been lit, a monk stepped forward and asked a question. After asking, he withdrew and sat in the rear. The Master ordered the attendant to light a lamp, then called:
– Let the monk who just asked the question come forward.
That monk approached. The Master said:
– Bring two ounces of flour for this senior monk.
The monk brushed off his robe and withdrew. From that moment, he awakened. He then gave away all his robes and bowl and prepared a vegetarian feast as an offering.
Three years later, the monk came to bid farewell before going elsewhere. The Master said:
– Take good care of yourself!
At that time, Xuefeng was standing in attendance and asked the Master:
– Since this monk has taken his leave and departed, when will he return?
The Master replied:
– He knows only how to go once; he does not know how to return.
The monk returned to the Sangha hall, went to the place where his robes and bowl were kept, sat down, and passed away. Xuefeng went to inform the Master. The Master said:
– Even so, compared with this old monk, he is still three lifetimes away.
The Master asked a monk:
– Where have you come from?
The monk replied:
– I have come from the stupa of the Third Patriarch.
– Since you have come from the Patriarch’s place, why do you still wish to see this old monk?
– The Patriarch may be different, but the Venerable and I are not different.
– May this old monk see the ajari’s original teacher?
– We must still wait until the Venerable puts forth his own head.
– Just now, for the moment, there was no old monk.
A monk asked:
– What is it like when, upon meeting, nothing is brought forth, yet as soon as the intent is raised, the intimate friend immediately knows?
The Master then clasped his hands atop his head.
The Master asked Deshan’s attendant:
– From what region have you come?
The attendant replied:
– I have come from Deshan.
– What have you come here to do?
– To show filial devotion to the Venerable.
– What is the most filial thing in the world?
The attendant could not answer.
The Master ascended the hall and said:
– There is a person amid a thousand or ten thousand people who neither turns his back on anyone nor faces toward anyone. Tell me, what sort of countenance does this person possess?
Yunju stepped forward and said:
– I am going to the consultation hall to pay my respects to the head monk and the assembly.
On one occasion, the Master said:
– Only after personally realizing the matter beyond Buddhahood does one have some measure of the ability to speak.
A monk asked:
– What is speaking?
– When I speak, the ajari does not hear.
– Does the Venerable hear?
– I hear when there is no speaking.
A monk asked:
– What are a true question and a true answer?
– They are not spoken from the mouth.
– If someone asks you, will you answer?
– No one has ever asked.
A monk asked:
– What is it that enters through the gate yet is not a treasure of the household?
– Skillfully comprehend it.
A monk asked:
– Since the Venerable went forth to serve as abbot, how many people have trusted you?
– Not a single person has trusted me at all.
– Why has not a single person trusted you at all?
– Because each of them possesses the bearing of a king.
The Master asked a monk who lectured on the Vimalakirti Sutra:
– “It cannot be known through wisdom; it cannot be known through consciousness.” What kind of words are these?
The monk replied:
– Words praising the Dharma body.
– By calling it the Dharma body, you have already praised it.
A monk asked:
– Why did “constantly and diligently polish it” fail to receive transmission of the robe and bowl? I do not yet know what sort of person could receive them.
The Master replied:
– A person who does not enter through the gate.
– If so, can the person who does not enter through the gate receive them or not?
– Even so, they cannot but be transmitted to him.
The Master further said:
– Even saying, “Originally, there is not a single thing,” was still insufficient to obtain that robe and bowl. Tell me, what sort of person could receive them? Here, immediately give a turning phrase. Try to say what words you would offer.
At that time, a monk offered ninety-six turning phrases, but none accorded. Only the final turning phrase accorded with the Master’s intent.
The Master said:
– Ajari, why did you not say that earlier?
Another monk had secretly listened, but he did not hear the final turning phrase. He therefore asked that monk for further instruction, but the monk refused to tell him. He followed him in this way for three years, yet the monk still would not speak.
One day, when the monk was ill, the other monk said:
– For three years I have asked you to tell me that former saying, but you have not compassionately instructed me. Since I cannot obtain it through good means, I must obtain it through evil means!
He then took up a knife and declared:
– If you do not tell me, I will kill you, senior monk.
The monk became alarmed and said:
– Ajari! Wait a moment! I will tell you.
He then said:
– Even if it is brought forth, there is nowhere for it to lodge.
The other monk bowed in thanks.
Xuedou Xian said:
– Since he did not accept it, that eye of his will surely be blind in the future. Do you see the Patriarch’s robe and bowl? If he had entered the gate at that time, they would have been transmitted to him with both hands. Not only would a single person on Dayu Mountain have been unable to lift them; even if all the people of the nation came, they would not be able to carry them away.
Cuiyan Zhi said:
– Ultimately unable to obtain his robe and bowl, yet he participated together with the Ancient Buddha. Tell me, in what did he participate?
Tiantong Jue said:
– Changlu would not have it so; it must be brought forth. If it were not brought forth, how could one know that not accepting what is brought forth should indeed be the eye? Is not accepting what is genuine blindness? Do you understand? Illumination penetrates the essence, with nowhere to rely; the whole body accords with the Great Way.
After Lingyin Yue recounted this to Cuiyan, he said:
Traveling throughout the lands of Jiang and Wu,
Leaving the shore and crossing many mountains.
There was a hermitage master who was ill. Whenever he saw a monk, he would say:
– Save me! Save me!
Many people offered words, but none accorded.
The Master then went to visit him. The hermitage master also said:
– Save me!
The Master asked:
– What is there to save?
The hermitage master said:
– Are you not a direct descendant of Yunyan and a grandson of Yaoshan?
The Master replied:
– I dare not claim so.
The hermitage master joined his palms and said:
– Everyone sees one another off.
The hermitage master immediately passed away.
A monk asked:
– Where does a monk go after passing away?
The Master replied:
– After cremation, there is a stalk of vegetable.
Once, while the resident monks were assembled for communal work, the Master made his rounds of the quarters and saw a monk who had not gone to work. The Master asked:
– Why have you not gone to work?
The monk replied:
– I am ill.
The Master said:
– Ordinarily you are hale and healthy; why can you no longer come and go now?
A monk asked:
– Ordinarily, Master, you teach me to travel the bird’s path. I do not know: what is the bird’s path?
The Master replied:
– Not encountering a single person.
– How does one travel it?
– Beneath your feet, you must not travel apart from yourself.
– Then is traveling the bird’s path not the original face?
– Why are you so inverted, Acharya?
– Where am I inverted?
– If you are not inverted, why do you take the servant to be the master?
– What is the original face?
– Not traveling the bird’s path.
Later, Jiashan Hui asked a monk:
– Where have you come from?
The monk replied:
– From Dongshan.
– What words does Dongshan use to instruct his disciples?
– He ordinarily teaches students to laboriously study the three paths.
– What are the three paths?
– The mysterious path, the bird’s path, and extending the hand.
– Did he truly say this?
– He truly did.
– The compass and ruler are transmitted for ten thousand miles; the man of the Way beneath the forest grieves.
Fushan Yuan said:
– Were it not for the yellow leaves falling, how would one know that autumn had arrived?
The Master addressed the assembly:
– Only one who knows that there is a Buddha beyond Buddha has a part in speaking of this matter.
A monk asked:
– What is the person who knows that there is a Buddha beyond Buddha?
The Master replied:
– Not Buddha.
Baofu said separately:
– Buddha Not.
Fayan said separately:
– As an expedient means, it is called Buddha.
The Master asked a monk:
– Where have you come from?
The monk replied:
– From the shoemaker’s place.
– Did you make them yourself, or did you have someone else make them?
– I had someone else make them.
– Did that other person give the Acharya any instruction or not?
– If permission is granted, there is no transgression.
A monk asked:
– What is the mystery within the mystery?
The Master replied:
– Like the tongue of a dead man.
While the Master was washing his bowls, he saw two birds fighting over shrimp and minnows. A monk immediately asked:
– Why is this matter like this?
The Master replied:
– Only because of you, Acharya.
A monk asked:
– What is the master of the Dharma body, the teacher Vairocana?
The Master replied:
– The rice plant and the rice root.
A monk asked:
– Among the three bodies, which body does not fall within the categories of multiplicity?
The Master replied:
– I once analyzed this matter.
Later, a monk asked Caoshan:
– The late Master said, “I once analyzed this matter.” What did he mean?
Caoshan replied:
– If you want the head, cut it off at once.
The monk then asked Xuefeng. Xuefeng struck him on the mouth with his staff and said:
– I, too, once went to Dongshan.
Chengtian Zong said:
– One turning phrase makes the sea blue and the river clear; one turning phrase brings a high wind and a cold moon; one turning phrase dismounts the bandit’s horse to pursue the bandit. Suddenly a monk stepped forward and said, “None of these is so.” I would also concede that he possessed one eye.
Miaoxi said:
– With such entangling vines, you have not even dreamed of those three old men. He also said: Why not aim straight at the heart and give it one thrust?
A venerable elder in the assembly returned from Yunyan. The Master asked:
– What did you go to Yunyan for?
The elder replied:
– I do not know.
The Master answered in his stead:
– To heap up a mound of earth.
A monk asked:
– What is the father of the white clouds and green mountains?
The Master replied:
– Not dark and overgrown.
– What is the child of the white clouds and green mountains?
– Not distinguishing east from west.
– What is it to rely upon the white clouds all day long?
– You must not abandon or leave them.
– What is it when the green mountains know nothing at all?
– Not looking back.
A monk asked:
– What kind of grass is that on the bank of the clear river?
The Master replied:
– It is grass without shoots.
The Master asked a monk:
– What is the most painful thing in the world?
The monk replied:
– Hell is the most painful.
– That is not so. To be clothed in this very robe yet not illuminate the great matter is the most painful.
The Master asked a monk:
– What is your name?
The monk replied:
– So-and-so.
– What is the Acharya’s master?
– He is answering you now.
– How painful! How painful! People nowadays are accustomed to responding in this manner. They only know how to take the servant to be themselves. They cannot yet distinguish the master within the guest; how could they discern the master within the master?
The monk immediately asked:
– What is the master within the master?
– Acharya, speak for yourself.
– If I can speak, that is the master within the guest.
Yunju answered in his stead:
– Though I can speak, it is not the master within the guest.
– What is the master within the master?
– To speak thus is easy, but to maintain continuity is exceedingly difficult.
The Master then taught this verse:
Ta kiến kim thời học đạo lưu,
Thiên thiên vạn vạn nhận môn đầu.
Kháp tợ nhập kinh triều thánh chúa,
Chỉ đáo Đồng quan tức tiện hưu.
Translation:
Alas, I see those who cultivate the Way today;
Thousands upon thousands mistake the gate for the destination.
They are just like those entering the capital to attend the sage sovereign,
Who reach only Tong Pass and there contentedly stop.
The Master ascended the hall:
– When the Way is without mind, it accords with the person; when the person is without mind, he accords with the Way. If you wish to know the meaning within this, one is old and one is not old.
Later, a monk asked Caoshan:
– What is the one that is old?
Caoshan replied:
– Not supporting or sustaining.
The monk asked:
– What is the one that is not old?
Caoshan replied:
– A withered tree.
The monk then related this to Xiaoyao Zhong. Zhong said:
– The three subordinations and the six principles.
Wuxie went to Shitou’s place and said:
– If a single word accords, I will stay; if it does not accord, I will leave.
Shitou sat crouching, and Wuxie immediately departed. Shitou followed behind and called:
– Acharya! Acharya!
Wuxie turned his head. Shitou said:
– From birth until death, it is only this; why turn your head and revolve your mind?
Wuxie suddenly awakened in accord and thereupon broke his staff. The Master said:
– At that time, had it not been the late Master Wuxie, it would have been exceedingly difficult to bear and accept this. Even so, he was still stuck upon the path.
A monk took leave of Daci. Daci asked:
– Where are you going?
The monk replied:
– I am going to Jiangxi.
– May I trouble you with one matter?
– What matter does the Venerable have?
– Could you take this old monk along with you?
– Even if there were someone superior to the Venerable, I still could not take him along.
Daci then let the matter rest.
Later, the monk related this to the Master. The Master said:
– Acharya, you should not have spoken that way.
– What would the Venerable have said?
– Yes.
Fayan said separately:
– If the Venerable goes, I shall carry your hat.
The Master again asked that monk:
– Did Daci have any other words?
The monk replied:
– On one occasion he instructed the assembly: “Being able to speak ten feet is not equal to practicing one foot; being able to speak one foot is not equal to practicing one inch.”
The Master said:
– I do not say it that way.
– How would the Venerable say it?
– Speech cannot accomplish practice; practice cannot accomplish speech.
Yaoshan was roaming the mountains with Yunyan when the knife at Yaoshan’s waist made a clattering sound. Yunyan asked:
– What is making that sound?
Yaoshan drew the knife and made a chopping gesture.
The Master related this and instructed the assembly:
– See how Yaoshan devoted his whole being to this matter. Anyone today who wishes to illuminate the matter beyond must realize this meaning.
Yaoshan held an evening consultation without lighting the lamps.
Yaoshan taught the Dharma:
– I have one statement. I shall tell it to you when a bull gives birth to a calf.
A monk replied:
– The bull has already given birth to a calf, yet the Venerable has not spoken.
Yaoshan said:
– Attendant! Bring a lamp here.
That monk withdrew into the assembly.
Yunyan raised this and asked the Master:
– What about this matter?
The Master replied:
– That monk had understood, but he was unwilling to bow.
Case:
– Yaoshan asked a monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk replied, “From Hunan.” Yaoshan asked, “Is the water of Dongting Lake full yet?” The monk replied, “Not yet.” Yaoshan asked, “It has rained so much; why is it not yet full?” The monk could not answer.
Daowu said:
– It is full already.
Yunyan said:
– Clear and still.
The Master said:
– Why have there ever been increase and decrease within the kalpa?
Yaoshan asked a monk:
– I hear that you are very skilled at calculation. Is that so?
The monk replied:
– I would not dare claim so.
– Try calculating this old monk.
The monk could not answer.
Yunyan raised this and asked the Master:
– What would you say?
The Master replied:
– I invite the Venerable to gaze at the moon.
The Master composed this verse on the Five Ranks of Sovereign and Minister:
The Relative within the Absolute.
At the third watch, in the first part of the night, the moon shines before dawn.
Do not wonder, upon meeting, that you do not recognize him;
Deep within, one still harbors the grievance of former days.
The straight within the inclined.
At dawn, the old woman who had lost her sight encounters the ancient mirror;
Face to face, perfectly clear—there is no other reality.
Cease losing sight of your own head and recognizing its reflection instead.
Coming from within the straight.
Within nothingness there is a path that separates one from the dust;
If only one can avoid violating the present taboo,
One surpasses even the eloquent one of the former dynasty whose tongue was cut out.
Arriving within the concurrent.
When two blades cross, there is no need to evade them;
A skillful hand is like a lotus in the midst of fire,
Naturally possessing an aspiration that pierces the heavens.
Reaching within the concurrent.
Falling into neither being nor nonbeing—who dares respond in harmony?
Everyone wishes to escape the ordinary stream;
Yet, divided or united, all return to sit within the ashes.
Translation:
The inclined within the straight.
In the darkness of the third watch, the moon shines brilliantly;
Meeting face to face, why suspect that you do not know him?
Deep within, one still harbors the vexing grievance of former days.
The straight within the inclined.
A blind old woman encounters the ancient mirror;
Face to face, perfectly clear—there is no other reality.
Cease forgetting your own head and recognizing its reflection instead.
Coming from within the straight.
Within emptiness there is a path apart from the dust;
Today, because one does not violate the taboo,
One surpasses even the eloquent one of the former court whose tongue was cut out.
Arriving within the concurrent.
When two swords meet, there is no need to evade them;
A skillful hand is like a lotus within a furnace,
Seeming naturally to possess an aspiration that pierces the high heavens.
Reaching within the concurrent.
Falling into neither being nor nonbeing—who dares respond in harmony?
Everyone wishes to escape the ordinary stream;
Dispersed or united, all return to sit within the ashes.
The Master ascended the hall:
“When there is Orientation, what is it like? When there is Service, what is it like? When there is Merit, what is it like? When there is Shared Merit, what is it like? When there is Merit upon Merit, what is it like?”
A monk asked:
“What is Orientation?”
The Master replied:
“What is it like when eating a meal?”
“What is Service?”
“What is it like when one turns away?”
“What is Merit?”
“What is it like when one lays down the hoe?”
“What is Shared Merit?”
“One does not attain form.”
“What is Merit upon Merit?”
“It is not shared.”
The Master then taught these verses:
The Sage Sovereign has always investigated the Dharma Emperor’s teaching;
Governing the people through propriety, he bends his dragon waist.
At times he passes straight through the bustling marketplace;
Wherever he goes, civilization flourishes beneath the sacred dynasty.
For whom does one wash away the heavy adornments?
Amid the cuckoo’s cries, people are urged to return.
Though a hundred flowers have all fallen, its calling never ends;
It cries again toward the deepest place amid the tumultuous peaks.
On the withered tree flowers bloom—the spring beyond the kalpa;
Riding the jade elephant backward, one pursues the qilin.
Now, hidden high beyond a thousand peaks,
The moon is bright, the wind pure—an auspicious day and hour.
Sentient beings and all Buddhas do not encroach upon one another;
The mountain is lofty of itself, and the water deep of itself.
Amid ten thousand differences and a thousand distinctions, the fundamental matter is clear;
Where the partridge cries, the hundred flowers are fresh.
As soon as horns sprout upon the head, it is already unbearable;
Those who set their minds on seeking Buddha should indeed be ashamed.
Remote and distant, in the empty kalpa, no one recognizes it;
Would you consent to journey south through the fifty-three encounters?
Translation:
The Sage Sovereign has always investigated the Dharma Emperor’s teaching;
Governing the people through propriety, he bends his dragon waist.
At times he advances straight into the marketplace;
Wherever civilization flourishes, blessings attend the sacred dynasty.
Who is it that washes away every trace of blood?
The cuckoo warbles, urging people to return.
Though the hundred flowers have all fallen, its calling never ends;
Flying into the deep mountains, it sings on and on.
On the withered tree flowers bloom—the spring beyond the kalpa;
Riding the jade elephant backward, one pursues the qilin.
Today, his traces are hidden beyond a thousand mountains;
The wind is cool, the moon bright—an auspicious day and month.
Sentient beings and all Buddhas do not encroach upon one another;
The mountain is lofty of itself, and the stream deep of itself.
Amid myriad differences, the matter is perfectly clear;
The partridge raises its song, and the flowers bloom vividly.
As soon as horns sprout upon the head, it is already unbearable;
To set the mind on seeking Buddha is cause for shame.
Remote and distant, in the empty kalpa, who could know it?
Accepting the fifty-three encounters in the South.
When Caoshan came to take leave of the Master, the Master entrusted him, saying:
“At the place of my late master, Yunyan, I personally received certification of the ‘Precious Mirror Samadhi,’ the ultimate essential meaning. I now transmit it to you. Its words are:
The Dharma of thusness
Has been secretly entrusted by Buddhas and patriarchs.
Now that you have obtained it,
You should carefully preserve it.
A silver bowl filled with snow;
A bright moon concealing a heron.
They resemble one another, yet are not the same;
When intermingled, their distinctions are known.
The meaning does not reside in words;
When the occasion arises, its functioning also appears.
Stirring gives rise to a familiar nest;
Deviation brings entanglement in fixation.
Turning away and touching are both wrong,
Like a great mass of fire.
Merely to express it in ornate language
Is already defilement.
At midnight it is truly bright;
At dawn it is no longer revealed.
It serves as a standard for all things;
Its function is to uproot all suffering.
Though it is not conditioned,
It is not without speech.
Like facing a precious mirror,
Form and reflection behold each other.
You are not it;
Yet it is precisely you.
Like a newborn infant,
It is fully endowed with the five characteristics.
Neither going nor coming,
Neither arising nor abiding,
‘Bàbà, hòa hòa’—
Words and no words.
Ultimately, nothing is apprehended,
Because its speech is not yet correct.
In the doubled Li trigram are six lines;
The inclined and the straight mutually return and interact.
Stacked, they become three;
Transformed completely, they become five.
Like the flavors of the five-herb plant,
Like the diamond vajra.
Wonderfully harmonized within the straight,
Drumming and singing arise together.
Penetrate the source and penetrate the pathways;
Embrace the connecting routes and embrace the road.
To intermingle freely is auspicious;
Yet one must not transgress or oppose.
Innately true and wondrous,
It belongs neither to delusion nor enlightenment.
When causes, conditions, time, and season mature,
It is serenely radiant and manifest.
So fine that it enters where there is no gap;
So vast that it transcends every place.
A deviation of the slightest fraction
Falls out of harmony with the proper pitch.
Today there are sudden and gradual teachings,
From which schools and approaches are established.
Once schools and approaches are distinguished,
Rules and standards arise.
Though the source is penetrated and the approach reaches its utmost,
True constancy continues to flow.
Outwardly still, inwardly trembling,
Like a tethered colt or a cowering rat.
The ancient sages pitied them
And bestowed the Dharma teaching.
Following their inverted views,
They take black to be white.
When inverted thinking ceases,
The consenting mind naturally accords.
If you wish to conform with the ancient path,
Please contemplate the sages of old.
When the Buddha Way was on the verge of fulfillment,
He contemplated the tree for ten kalpas.
Like a tiger’s tattered ears,
Like a horse with hobbled legs.
Because some are inferior,
There are jeweled tables and precious garments;
Because some are startled by the unusual,
A house cat and white ox appear.
With his skill and strength, Yi
Hit the target from a hundred paces.
When arrow points meet head-on,
What has skill or strength to do with it?
The wooden man begins to sing;
The stone woman rises to dance.
This is not reached by feeling or consciousness;
How could it admit of deliberation?
A minister serves the sovereign;
A child obeys the parent.
Not obeying is unfilial;
Not serving is no true service.
Practice secretly and function intimately,
Like a fool, like an idiot.
Simply continue in this way:
This is called the host within the host.
Translation:
The True Dharma is thus;
Buddhas and patriarchs have secretly transmitted it.
Now that you have obtained it,
You should carefully preserve it.
A silver bowl filled with snow;
The bright moon conceals a heron.
They are of a kind, yet are not identical;
When intermingled, their distinctions are known.
The meaning is not within the words.
When the occasion arrives, functioning also arrives;
Stirring gives rise to a nest,
And deviation leads to ceaseless fixation.
Turning away and touching are both wrong,
Like a great mass of fire.
Merely displaying ornate colors
Is itself defilement.
At midnight the moon shines brightly;
At dawn its form is no longer displayed.
It serves as a standard for all things,
Uprooting every suffering.
Though it is not conditioned,
It is not without words.
Like a person looking into a precious mirror,
Form and reflection behold one another.
You are not he;
He is not you.
Like a newborn infant,
Already complete with the five characteristics.
Neither coming nor going,
Neither rising nor standing,
Crying, ‘oa oa, oa oa,’
With words and without words.
Ultimately, no thing can be apprehended,
Because its speech is not yet correct.
The doubled Li trigram has six lines;
The inclined and the straight mutually return and interact.
Stacked, they become three;
Transformed completely, they become five.
Like the flavor of the five-herb plant,
Like the diamond vajra.
Wonderfully harmonized within the straight,
Drumming and singing arise together.
Penetrate the source and penetrate the pathways;
Secretly carried into the narrow lane.
To intermingle is auspicious,
But one must not transgress or oppose.
Innately true and mysterious,
It belongs neither to enlightenment nor delusion.
When causes, conditions, time, and season arrive,
It is silently and clearly revealed.
Though minute, it enters where there is no gap;
Though vast, it transcends every place.
Deviate by so much as a hair’s breadth,
And the rule is immediately lost.
Today there are sudden and gradual teachings,
Because schools and approaches were established.
Once schools and approaches were clearly divided,
These became the rules and standards.
The source is penetrated, the approach reaches its utmost;
True constancy flows through without cease.
Outwardly still, inwardly moving,
Like a tethered horse or a cowering rat.
The ancient sages, moved by compassion,
Bestowed the Dharma for this reason.
Following those who are inverted,
They take black to be white.
If the marks of inversion cease,
Directly realize it within your own mind.
The essential thing is to accord with the ancient traces;
I invite you to observe the worthies of former times:
When about to accomplish the Buddha Way,
For ten kalpas they sat contemplating the tree.
It is like a tiger’s den,
It is like a horse’s stable.
Because there are those of inferior capacity,
The jeweled seat and precious carriage are displayed;
Because there are those who are fearful,
The house cat and white ox appear.
Skill in the craft comes through practiced power:
Striking the target from a hundred paces,
When the arrowheads are about to meet,
How could practiced power hesitate?
The wooden man has barely begun to sing
When the stone maiden rises to dance;
Discriminating consciousness cannot reach it—
How could it permit thought to arise?
The minister serves the sovereign,
The filial child obeys the father;
Without obedience, there is no filial piety;
Without service, there is no ministerial duty.
Its function is concealed, its practice secret,
As though foolish, as though dull;
One need only be able to continue it.
This is called the host within the host.
The Master further instructed:
“In the age of the Final Dharma, many people possess keen faculties of wisdom. If you wish to distinguish the genuine from the false, there are three kinds of leakage. The first is the leakage of views: one’s capacity does not depart from its position, and one falls into the poisonous sea. The second is the leakage of emotion: one becomes stuck in facing toward and turning away, and one’s view is one-sided and withered. The third is the leakage of words: one excels in investigation but loses the true lineage, and one’s capacity remains obscure from beginning to end. Because the wisdom of students is defiled, they continue to revolve without escaping these three. You should understand this.”
The Master also composed three verses on the essential principles:
1. Sao xướng câu hành
Kim châm song tỏa bị.
Hiệp lộ ẩn toàn cai.
Bảo ấn đương phong diệu,
Trùng trùng cẩm phùng khai.
2. Kim tỏa huyền lộ
Giao hỗ minh trung ám,
Công tề chuyển giác nan.
Lực cùng vong tiến thối
Kim tỏa võng man man.
3. Bất đọa phàm Thánh.
Sư lý câu bất thiệp,
Hồi chiếu tuyệt u vi.
Bối phong vô xảo chuyết,
Điện hỏa thước nan truy.
Translation:
1. Mutual Chanting and Walking Together
The golden needle completes the double lock;
Concealed and revealed, all is wholly gathered in.
The precious seal is wondrous directly before the wind;
Layer upon layer, the brocade is sewn and opened.
2. The Golden Lock on the Mysterious Path
Light and darkness interweave;
Evenly balanced, turning realization is difficult.
When strength is exhausted, advance and retreat are forgotten;
The golden net has already spread everywhere.
3. Not Apart from the Ordinary and the Sacred
Neither phenomena nor principle adheres;
Turning the illumination inward, the subtle and hidden cease.
Facing against the wind, there is neither skill nor clumsiness;
A flash of lightning is difficult to pursue.
When the Master became ill, he sent a novice to convey news to Yunju, instructing him:
“If he asks, ‘Is the Master at ease?’ simply say, ‘The road of Yunyan is about to be severed.’ Once you have said this, stand far away, lest he strike you.”
The novice received these essential instructions and went to deliver the message. Before he had finished speaking, Yunju struck him once with his staff, leaving the novice unable to speak.
Tong’an Xian answered in his stead:
“If so, Yunyan’s single blow did not fall.”
Yunju Ji said:
“Venerable! Tell me, is the road of Yunyan severed or not?”
Chongshou Chou said:
“What was the intention of that single blow struck by the ancient?”
As he was approaching his passing, the Master told the assembly:
“I have a reputation in the world. Who can remove it for me?”
No one in the assembly could answer. At that moment, a novice stepped forward and said:
“May the Master bestow a Dharma name upon me.”
The Master said:
“My reputation is already finished.”
Shishuang said:
“No one received his acknowledgment.”
Yunju said:
“If he had a reputation, he would not be my late Master.”
Caoshan said:
“From ancient times until now, no one has been able to discern it.”
Shushan said:
“The dragon possesses the dynamic capacity to emerge from the water, yet no one has been able to discern it.”
A monk asked:
“The Master is ill. Is there that which is not ill?”
The Master replied:
“There is.”
“Does that which is not ill see the Master?”
“This old monk has a share in seeing him.”
“I do not yet understand how the Master sees him.”
“When this old monk sees him, he does not see that there is any illness.”
The Master then asked the monk:
“Apart from this leaking body, where will you meet me?”
The monk could not answer.
The Master taught this verse:
Học giả hằng sa vô nhất ngộ,
Quá tại tầm tha thiệt đầu lộ.
Dục đắc vong hình dẫn tung tích,
Nổ lực ân cần không lý bộ.
Translation:
Students are as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, yet not one awakens;
The fault lies in seeking him upon the road of the tongue.
If you wish to forget the body and erase all traces,
Strive diligently to walk within emptiness.
The Master ordered that his head be shaved. After bathing, he donned his robe, had the bell sounded to bid farewell to the assembly, then sat upright and peacefully passed away. At that time, the assembly wailed and wept without ceasing. The Master suddenly opened his eyes and told them:
“For one who has left the household life, the mind’s nonattachment to things is true practice. To toil over life and regret death—what benefit is there in grieving and weeping?”
The Master ordered the administrator to prepare an “ignorance meal” as an offering. The assembly continued to cling sorrowfully and would not cease. This continued until the seventh day, when all the food had been fully arranged. After partaking of the meal with the assembly, the Master said, “Members of the Sangha have nothing to concern themselves with. The hour of departure is approaching; do not make a commotion.”
The Master then entered the abbot’s quarters, sat upright, and peacefully passed away.
It was the third month of the tenth year of the Xiantong era (869). The Master was sixty-three years old and had completed forty-two summer retreats. The emperor posthumously bestowed upon him the title Chan Master Wuben, and his stupa was named Huijue.
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