佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄

CASE 71: MASTER WUFENG SWEEPS EVERYTHING AWAY

CASE: Baizhang again asked Wufeng, “When the throat and lips have all been swept away, how will you speak?” Wufeng replied, “Venerable Master, you too must sweep everything away.” Baizhang said, “In a place where no one is present, I shall shade my brow and watch for you.”

COMMENTARY: Guishan firmly grasped the essential principle; Wufeng cut off all streams. Here it is essential to raise it directly before one’s face and draw it back, like two horses kicking at each other, allowing no deliberation. On the spot, one must act swiftly and urgently.

This is unlike Guishan’s expansive, eloquent discourse. Chan practitioners nowadays merely follow the wind and cannot escape that other extreme. Therefore it is said, “If you wish to attain intimacy, do not bring a question to ask.” Wufeng’s reply immediately cut everything off at the outset; it was truly delightful.

Baizhang said, “In a place where no one is present, I shall shade my brow and watch for you.” Tell me: did he acknowledge the Master or not? Was it dead or alive? Seeing him roll along freely, he merely gave him a single mark.

Xuedou versified it:

VERSE: Hòa thượng dã tinh khước

Long xà trận thượng khán mưu lược

Linh nhân trường ức Lý tướng quân

Vạn lý thiên biên phi nhất ngạc.

TRANSLATION: The Venerable Master also sweeps everything away;

On the dragon-and-snake battlefield, behold the strategy.

It causes people ever to remember General Li;

Across ten thousand miles at the edge of heaven, a single osprey flies.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “The Venerable Master also sweeps everything away.” Within this single line, Xuedou gives a push and says, “On the dragon-and-snake battlefield, behold the strategy.” The two battle formations are displayed, suddenly emerging and suddenly entering, moving freely in every direction, possessing the ability of a battle commander. A person of great strategy, alone with a single horse, charges into the dragon-and-snake formation and enters and leaves freely.

How could you encircle such a person? If it were not this person, who could know such strategy? In all three of these verses, Xuedou enters directly into the matter and presents words such as these.

It is like Li Guang’s divine arrow: “Across ten thousand miles at the edge of heaven, a single osprey flies.” With one arrow, a bird of prey is certain to fall; he certainly does not let it pass. Xuedou versifies Baizhang’s question as an osprey and Wufeng’s reply as an arrow. This mountain monk was only concerned with praising Wufeng and unexpectedly plunged his whole body into mud and water.

CASE 72: MASTER YUNYAN ASKS, “DO YOU HAVE IT?”

CASE: Baizhang again asked Yunyan, “When the throat and lips have all been swept away, how will you speak?” Yunyan replied, “Venerable Master, do you have it or not?” Baizhang said, “You have utterly destroyed my descendants.”

COMMENTARY: Yunyan served as Baizhang’s attendant for twenty years. Later, he followed Daowu to Yaoshan. Yaoshan asked, “What did you do in Baizhang’s assembly?” Yunyan replied, “I transcended birth and death.” Yaoshan asked, “Have you truly transcended them yet?” Yunyan replied, “They have no birth or death.” Yaoshan said, “After twenty years with Baizhang, you still have not eliminated your habitual tendencies.” Yunyan took his leave and went to pay respects to Nanquan.

Later, he returned to Yaoshan and only then attained accord and awakening. Look at the ancients: even after twenty years of investigation, he was still half green and half yellow, clinging to skin and stuck to bone, unable to break free at once. Correct as he was, he had merely failed to reach the village ahead and could not arrive at the inn behind.

Have you not heard it said:

The Caodong school calls this “breaking through by contact.” Therefore it is said, “The staff smashes open the Phoenix Tower; people of the time fear violating the taboo of the reigning dynasty.” Thus it is said that one must pass through the forest of thorns. If one does not pass through it, one remains trapped both before and behind, unable to cut through. As was just said, he failed to reach the village ahead and could not arrive at the inn behind. Yunyan was concerned only with examining others. Seeing the Master in this state, Baizhang immediately dragged him out and struck him dead. Xuedou versified it:

VERSE: Hòa thượng hữu dã vị

Kim mao sư tử bất cứ địa

Lưỡng lưỡng tam tam cựu lộ hành

Đại Hùng sơn hạ không đờn chỉ.

TRANSLATION: Venerable Master, do you have it or not?

The golden-haired lion does not rest upon the ground.

In twos and threes, they travel the old road;

Below Mount Daxiong, fingers snap in vain.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “Venerable Master, do you have it or not?” Xuedou judged the case according to the original offense. Correct as it was, the golden-haired lion unexpectedly did not rest upon the ground. When a lion catches other beasts, it conceals its fangs and hides its claws, crouches upon the ground, and leaps to seize its prey. Regardless of whether it is large or small, the lion employs its full majesty and exhausts all its strength. When Yunyan said, “Venerable Master, do you have it or not?” he was merely traveling along the old road. Therefore Xuedou said that below Mount Daxiong, Baizhang snapped his fingers in vain.

CASE 73: MAZU’S FOUR PROPOSITIONS AND HUNDRED NEGATIONS

INTRODUCTION: In general, one who expounds the Dharma neither speaks nor demonstrates, and one who hears the Dharma neither hears nor apprehends. Since expounding is neither speaking nor demonstrating, it would be better not to speak. Since hearing is neither hearing nor apprehending, it would be better not to hear. Yet not speaking and not hearing still fall short in two respects. Just now, as you listen to this mountain monk speaking here, how can you avoid this error? Those who possess the eye that penetrates the barrier, try to present it and see.

CASE: A monk asked Mazu, “Apart from the four propositions and beyond the hundred negations, I ask the Master to point out directly to me the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West.” Mazu said, “Today I am weary and cannot explain it to you. Go and ask Zhizang.” The monk asked Zhizang. Zhizang said, “Why did you not ask the Venerable Master?” The monk replied, “The Venerable Master instructed me to come and ask you.” Zhizang said, “Today I have a headache and cannot explain it to you. Go and ask Brother Hai.” The monk asked Brother Hai. Hai said, “As for this matter, I do not understand it either.” The monk related all this to Mazu. Mazu said, “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black.”

EXPLANATION: Regarding this case, formerly, when this mountain monk was in Chengdu, I consulted Zhenjue. Jue said, “You need only contemplate Mazu’s first phrase, and naturally, in a single moment, you will accord and realize.” Tell me: did this monk come to ask because he understood, or did he come to ask because he did not understand? This question is truly profound.

“Apart from the four propositions” means: existence, nonexistence, neither existence nor nonexistence, and neither not-existence nor not-nonexistence. Apart from these four propositions, cut off those hundred negations. If you merely keep constructing principles, not knowing the key phrase, you will search for the source but never find it.

If it were this mountain monk, I would wait until Mazu had finished speaking, then spread out my sitting cloth and bow three times, and see what he would say.

At that time, when Mazu saw this monk come and ask, “Apart from the four propositions and beyond the hundred negations, I ask the Master to point directly to the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West,” he should immediately have seized his staff, struck him across the spine, and driven him out, to see whether he awakened or not. Mazu merely went on creating entangling vines for him, while this fellow missed it right before his face; Mazu then told him to go ask Zhizang. Little did he know that Mazu could discern the wind as soon as it arose. Bewildered, the monk went to ask Zhizang.

Zang said, “Why do you not ask the Master?”

The monk said, “The Master instructed me to come ask you.”

See how, as soon as he was gently pushed, he immediately turned it back, leaving no idle space. Zhizang said, “Today I have a headache and cannot explain it to you. Go ask Brother Hai.” The monk then went to ask Brother Hai. Brother Hai said, “When I come to this matter, I do not understand it either.” Tell me: why did one say that he had a headache, while the other said that he did not understand? What is the ultimate meaning?

The monk returned and related this to Mazu. Mazu said, “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black.” If you use the path of conceptual understanding to examine this and say that they were deceiving one another, you are mistaken. Some say, “They were merely passing him back and forth.” Others say, “All three knew the import of the question, and therefore did not answer.” They are all blind, all at once putting poison into the ancients’ supreme ghee. Thus Mazu said, “Wait until you swallow the waters of the Western River in one gulp; then I will explain it to you.” This is of the same kind as the present case. If you understand “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black,” then you understand the saying about the waters of the Western River.

This monk exchanged one burden of bewilderment for a state of unease, and moreover troubled three venerable adepts to enter the mud and water, yet in the end he still did not penetrate. Even so, the three masters of the School were in turn exposed by that board-carrying fellow. People today merely run about among words and phrases to devise a livelihood, saying, “White corresponds to the bright side; black corresponds to the dark side.” They know only how to bore into it, polish it, and speculate. Little do they know that a single phrase of the ancients cuts off the root of thought. Only by seeing for yourself within the true vital line can you attain stability.

Therefore it is said, “Only the final phrase reaches the last barrier; hold fast the essential ford, and neither ordinary nor sage can pass.” If this matter is discussed, it is like setting a sword at the very entrance: if you deliberate, your body is shattered and your life is lost. It is also said, “It is like casting a sword and brandishing it in the air; do not discuss whether it reaches or does not reach—just realize it at the place exquisite on all eight sides.” Have you not seen how the ancients said, “A lacquer bucket,” or “A wild-fox spirit,” or “A blind man”?

Tell me: are these the same as, or different from, a single blow or a single shout? If you know, then the thousand differences and ten thousand distinctions are only one kind, and naturally you can meet the enemy on all eight sides.

Do you wish to understand “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black”? My late teacher Wuzu said, “First the morning breeze, then afterward.” Xuedou’s verse says:

VERSE: Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black.

Even a clear-eyed patch-robed monk cannot comprehend it.

The colt tramples to death people throughout the world;

Linji was not yet a master thief.

Apart from the four propositions, beyond the hundred negations—

In heaven and among humankind, I alone know.

TRANSLATION: Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black.

A clear-eyed Chan monk cannot comprehend it.

The colt tramples to death how many people;

Linji was not yet a master thief.

Apart from the four propositions, beyond the hundred negations—

In heaven and among humankind, I alone know.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black”—tell me, what is its meaning? Chan monks throughout the world cannot leap free of these two little portions. See how excellently Xuedou joins it together in the latter part, saying that even a clear-eyed Chan monk cannot comprehend this message. It is called the immortals’ secret formula, not transmitted even from father to son. Throughout his lifetime, Buddha Shakyamuni taught the Dharma; in the end, he separately transmitted the mind-seal. It is called the precious sword of the Vajra King and called the Correct Position. Such entangling vines were already an unavoidable expedient.

The ancients revealed only the slightest point of the blade. If someone penetrates it, that person sees through seven layers and pierces eight, attaining great freedom. If one cannot penetrate it, then, having no point of entry into awakening from the outset, the more one speaks, the farther away one goes.

As for the line, “The colt tramples to death people throughout the world,” the Patriarch Prajnatara in India gave this prophecy to Patriarch Bodhidharma:

“Though China is vast, there is no other road;
It must be traveled by descendants beneath your heel.
The golden rooster knows how to hold a single grain of millet in its beak,
Making offerings to the arhat Sangha of the ten directions.”

The Sixth Patriarch also told Huairang, “In the future, the Buddhadharma will issue forth from your side. A colt will arise and trample to death people throughout the world.” Later, the transmission of Dharma in Jiangxi spread throughout the world, and people of the time called him Mazu, “Horse Patriarch.” Both Bodhidharma and the Sixth Patriarch had earlier prophesied the coming of Mazu. Observe his methods: they were indeed unique. Merely saying, “Zang’s head is white; Hai’s head is black,” is enough to reveal where he trampled to death people throughout the world. Yet these words “white” and “black” in this phrase cannot be chewed through by a thousand or ten thousand people.

“Linji was not yet a master thief.” One day Linji instructed the assembly: “Upon this lump of red flesh is a true person of no rank, who constantly goes in and out through the gates of your faces. Those who have not yet verified this—look! Look!”

A monk came forward and asked, “What is the true person of no rank?”

Linji stepped down from the Chan seat, seized him, and held him upright, saying, “Speak! Speak!”

The monk could not speak. Linji pushed him away and said, “What kind of thing is the true person of no rank? A dry lump of excrement!”

Later, when Xuefeng heard of this, he said, “Linji is very much like a master thief.” Xuedou wished to meet Linji face-to-face. Yet when one examines Mazu’s pivotal action, it far surpasses Linji’s. Here is truly the master thief; Linji was not yet a master thief. Xuedou pierced them all through at once.

He further versifies this monk’s words: “Apart from the four propositions, beyond the hundred negations—in heaven and among humankind, I alone know.” Do not seek a livelihood in a demon’s cave. An ancient said, “The question lies within the answer; the answer lies within the question.” This is truly extraordinary. How will you depart from the four propositions and cut off the hundred negations? Xuedou says, “Regarding this matter, I alone personally know.” Even all the Buddhas of the three times cannot see it. Since you alone personally know it, what have you all come here seeking?

Chan Master Zhenru of Dagui raised this and said, “The monk asked in this way, and Mazu answered in this way. Apart from the four propositions and beyond the hundred negations, Zhizang and Brother Hai ultimately did not know.” Do you wish to understand? Have you not heard it said, “The colt tramples to death people throughout the world”?

CASE 74: JINNIU’S RICE PAIL

POINTER: The Moye sword is held crosswise; before the point of its blade, the nest of entangling vines is severed. The mirror hangs on high; within a phrase, the Vairocana seal is brought forth. In the hidden and intimate field, one eats rice and wears clothes. In the place of roaming play through spiritual powers, on what can one depend? Have you thoroughly penetrated it? Observe the text below.

CASE: Whenever the mealtime arrived, Master Jinniu himself would carry the rice pail before the Sangha hall, dance, laugh aloud, and say, “Bodhisattvas, come and eat your rice!” Xuedou said, “Although it was so, Jinniu did not have good intentions.”

A monk asked Changqing, “An ancient said, ‘Bodhisattvas, come and eat your rice!’ What was the essential meaning?”

Changqing said, “It was just like giving words of praise and thanksgiving upon receiving a meal.”

EXPLANATION: Jinniu was a venerable master in the lineage of Mazu. Whenever mealtime came, he would personally carry the rice bucket before the Sangha hall, dance, then laugh, “Ha, ha!” and say, “Bodhisattvas, come and eat!” He did this for twenty years. Tell me, where did his meaning lie?

If it were merely a call to eat, ordinarily striking the wooden board and beating the drum would have been enough to signal it. Why did he personally carry the rice bucket there and go to so much trouble? Was he mad?

Was he presenting and establishing something? If he was presenting this matter, why did he not ascend the Jeweled Flower King’s seat, strike the meditation platform, and raise the whisk? What was the point of acting in this way?

Do people today not know that the ancient masters’ meaning lay beyond their words? Why not examine what was said when the ancestral teacher first came: “A special transmission outside the teachings, separately transmitting the seal of mind”? The ancient masters’ skillful means merely taught you to cut straight through and directly take responsibility.

Later people indulge in deluded speculation, saying, “Where are there so many complications? When cold, approach the fire; when hot, seek the cool; when hungry, eat; when tired, sleep.” To explain and annotate it this way according to ordinary sentiments is to obliterate the entire school of Bodhidharma. They do not know that throughout the twelve hours of the day, thought after thought, the ancient masters never relinquished their determination to clarify this matter.

Xuedou said, “Even so, Jinniu did not have good intentions.” Many people misunderstand this single sentence. As the saying goes, the finest ghee is a precious thing in the world, yet when it encounters such a person, it becomes poison. Jinniu had already entered the weeds for the sake of others; why, then, did Xuedou say that he did not have good intentions?

On what grounds did he say this? Chan practitioners must possess living potential. People today never reach the ground of the ancient masters; they merely like to say, “What mind is there to see?

What Buddha is there?” If you give rise to such an interpretation, you ruin that old adept Jinniu. You must examine this carefully. If today and tomorrow you merely speak for the pleasure of the tongue, there will surely never be a day of complete awakening.

Later, when Changqing ascended the hall, a monk asked, “The ancient master said, ‘Bodhisattvas, come and eat.’ What was his essential meaning?” Changqing replied, “It was like offering praise and congratulations on the occasion of a meal.” The venerable masters were exceedingly compassionate and exposed quite a bit of their tails. Granted, it was offering praise on the occasion of a meal—but tell me, what was being praised? Look at Xuedou’s verse:

VERSE: Within the shadows of white clouds, he laughs, “Ha, ha!”

With both hands he brings it forth and gives it to them.

If one is truly a cub of the golden-haired lion,

From three thousand miles away one sees the flaw.

TRANSLATION: Within the shadows of silvery-white clouds, he laughs, “Ha, ha!”

With both hands he brings it forth and gives it to them.

If one is truly a cub of the golden-haired lion,

From three thousand miles away one sees the error.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Regarding the line, “Within the shadows of silvery-white clouds, he laughs, ‘Ha, ha!’” Changqing said, “It was offering praise and congratulations on the occasion of a meal.” Xuedou said, “With both hands he brings it forth and gives it to them.” Tell me, was this merely giving the monks food, or was there something extraordinary apart from that? If one knows correctly and directly at that very point, one is a cub of the golden-haired lion.

If one is a cub of the golden-haired lion, there is no need for Jinniu to bring the rice bucket, dance about, and laugh loudly; from three thousand miles away, one immediately knows where his failure lies. An ancient said, “To discern before the potential arises, not even a single hand seal is needed.” Therefore, Chan practitioners must ordinarily function beyond conventions before they can be called true teachers of the essential school.

If they merely rely on words and phrases, they cannot avoid exposing their tails.

CASE 75: WUJIU’S CROOKED STAFF, CROOKED STAFF

POINTER: The spirit sword, the precious blade, is always displayed before you. It can kill a person and can also give a person life. Here and there alike, there is both gain and loss. If it must be raised and upheld, freely raise and uphold it; if it must be laid out straight, freely lay it out straight. Tell me, when one does not fall into host and guest and has no need for mutual deference, what then? Let us see the case.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk from the assembly of Master Dingzhou came to Wujiu. Wujiu asked, “How does Dingzhou’s Dharma Way compare with the Way here?” The monk replied, “It is no different.” Wujiu said, “If it is no different, you should return there.” He immediately struck him. The monk said, “The tip of the staff has eyes; you must not recklessly strike people.” Wujiu said, “Today I have managed to strike one person.” He struck him three more times.

The monk immediately walked out. Wujiu said, “From ancient times, there has always been someone to take the crooked staff.” The monk turned around and said, “That is because the handle of the staff is in the Master’s hand.” Wujiu said, “If you want it, this mountain monk will give it to you.” The monk approached, seized the staff from Wujiu’s hand, and struck Wujiu three times. Wujiu said, “Crooked staff!

Crooked staff!” The monk said, “Someone has taken it.” Wujiu said, “This fellow has struck recklessly.” The monk immediately bowed. Wujiu said, “Master, is this how you go?” The monk laughed loudly and departed. Wujiu said, “It is fitting that it be so!

It is fitting that it be so!”

EXPLANATION: The monk came from the assembly of Master Dingzhou to Wujiu. Wujiu, too, was an adept. If you can understand within this, these two—one emerging, one entering; a thousand or ten thousand—are only one. Acting as host is thus; acting as guest is also thus. Ultimately, the two form a single household. As they simultaneously examined and discerned host and guest through question and answer, both were adepts from beginning to end.

See how Wujiu asked that monk, “How does Dingzhou’s Dharma Way compare with the Way here?” The monk replied, “It is no different.” At that moment, had it not been Wujiu, it would have been difficult to do anything with this monk. Wujiu said, “If it is no different, you should return there.” He immediately struck him. Who would have known that this monk was also an adept? He immediately said, “The tip of the staff has eyes; you must not recklessly strike people.” Wujiu carried out the imperative all the way through, saying, “Today I have struck one person squarely.” He struck him three more times. The monk immediately walked out.

See how these two rolled along smoothly; both were adepts who had clarified this one matter, yet black and white still had to be distinguished, and good and bad discerned. Although the monk walked out, the public case was not yet finished. From beginning to end, Wujiu wished to test his true ground and see what he would do.

The monk seemed to be barring the door and erecting a wall, so Wujiu had not yet fully seen through him. Wujiu again said, “From ancient times, there has always been someone to take the crooked staff.” The monk needed to turn around and exhale. Without contending with him, he turned gently and said, “That is because the handle of the staff is in the Master’s hand.” Wujiu was a teacher of the essential school with an eye in his forehead.

Daring to lie crosswise in the mouth of a fierce tiger, he said, “If you want it, this mountain monk will give it to you.”

This fellow held a sacred talisman in his hand. As the saying goes, “To see what is right and fail to act is to lack courage.” Without giving it another thought, he approached, seized the staff from Wujiu’s hand, and struck Wujiu three times. Wujiu said, “Crooked staff!

Crooked staff!” Tell me, what did he mean? Earlier he said, “From ancient times, there has always been someone to take the crooked staff.” When the monk struck him, he again said, “Crooked staff! Crooked staff!” The monk said, “Someone has taken it.” Wujiu said, “What a fellow, striking recklessly!” Earlier he had said, “I have struck one person squarely.” In the end, when he himself took the blows, why did he also say, “What a fellow, striking recklessly”?

At that moment, had it not been for this tough monk, he could have done nothing with the Master.

The monk immediately bowed. This bow was exceedingly poisonous and was likewise not offered with good intentions. Had it not been Wujiu, he would not have seen through him.

Wujiu said, “Is this how you go?” The monk laughed loudly and walked out. Wujiu said, “It is fitting that it be so! It is fitting that it be so!” See how these two adepts met one another.

From beginning to end, host and guest were clearly distinguished; after cutting off, they skillfully joined again. In truth, it was simply the interchange of potential. When the monk came here, there was no talk of any place of interchange.

The ancient masters had utterly severed emotional dust and conceptual thought. Both were adepts; neither spoke of gain or loss. Although it was merely an interval of dialogue, both were vibrantly alive, entirely possessing the bloodline and the needle of the compass.

If you can see this clearly, then throughout the twelve hours of the day everything will be lucid and distinct. When the monk immediately walked out, that was mutual release; afterward came mutual gathering in. This is called interchange.

Xuedou composed his verse directly from this point:

VERSE: To call is easy;

To send away is difficult.

Carefully observe the potential and action of their interchange.

Though the kalpa-stone is hard, it may still be worn away;

In the depths of the vast blue sea, one stands where it must dry up.

Old Wujiu! Old Wujiu!

How many kinds are there?

Giving him the staff was utterly without rhyme or reason.

TRANSLATION: To summon is easy;

To send away is hard.

Carefully observe how their pivotal actions interchange.

Even the hard kalpa-stone may be worn away;

The fathomless ocean may stand utterly dry.

Old Wujiu! Old Wujiu!

How many kinds are there?

He gave him the staff without rhyme or reason.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: The two lines, “To summon is easy; to send away is hard,” are first-rate words, yet they have fallen into the weeds; Xuedou, however, was exceedingly compassionate. It is commonly said: “It is easy to call a snake, but hard to drive it away.” It is easy to blow a gourd and call a snake, but driving the snake away is difficult. Likewise, giving him the staff was easy, but seizing the staff and driving him away was difficult.

Only one possessing the essential means could drive him away. Wujiu was an adept who had the means to summon the snake and also the means to drive it away. This monk, too, was not blind or benighted.

When Wujiu asked, “In what way does Dingzhou’s Dharma resemble that of this place?” he was summoning him. When Wujiu immediately struck him, he was driving him away. When the monk said, “The tip of the staff has an eye; you must not strike people recklessly,” he turned back into the monk’s position and summoned him.

When Wujiu said, “If you require it, this mountain monk will hand it over to you,” and the monk came forward, seized the staff, and struck him three times, the monk was driving him away. The monk then laughed loudly and departed. When Wujiu said, “You can receive it like this; you can receive it like this,” it was evident that he had driven him away most skillfully.

Observe how the pivotal actions of these two interchange: warp passing through weft, woven into a single piece; from beginning to end, host and guest are clearly distinguished. Sometimes the host becomes the guest; sometimes the guest becomes the host. Xuedou praised them unstintingly and therefore said, “Carefully observe how their pivotal actions interchange.” The line “Even the hard kalpa-stone may be worn away” refers to a kalpa-stone forty miles long, eighty-four thousand yojanas wide, and eighty-four thousand yojanas thick.

Once every five hundred years, a heavenly being descends and brushes it once with a robe weighing three liang, then departs. After another five hundred years, the heavenly being returns. The time required to brush away the entire stone in this manner constitutes one kalpa.

This is called “the kalpa of the light robe brushing the stone.” Xuedou says, “Even the hard kalpa-stone may be worn away”: although the stone is hard, it must eventually be completely worn away, but the pivotal actions of these two will remain inexhaustible for a thousand ages and ten thousand ages. The line “The fathomless ocean may stand utterly dry” means that even though the vast ocean is boundless, with great waves surging and its waters rising to inundate the heavens, if these two were told to enter it and stand there, the great ocean itself would have to dry up.

At this point Xuedou’s verse was finished. Yet at the end he added: “Old Wujiu! Old Wujiu!

How many kinds are there?” Catching or releasing, dying or living—in the final reckoning, how many kinds are there? The line “He gave him the staff without rhyme or reason” refers to this staff, which all the Buddhas of the three times have used, which the ancestral masters of every generation have also used, and which the masters of the School likewise use to pull out nails and wrench free pegs for people, to break seals and loosen bonds.

How could it be lightly handed over to someone? Xuedou’s intention was to use it himself. Fortunately, this monk at that time merely leveled the ground together with him.

Had he suddenly encountered someone who brought thunder in a time of drought, let us see how the Master would have withstood him. Wujiu handed the staff’s handle to another—was this not indeed utterly without rhyme or reason?

CASE 76: DANXIA ASKS, “HAVE YOU EATEN YOUR MEAL?”

INTRODUCTION: As tiny as a broken grain of rice, as cold as ice and frost, it blocks heaven and earth, departing from light and cutting off darkness. Viewed from the lowest place, there is more than enough; measured from the highest place, it is insufficient. Holding fast or letting go—all are within this. Is there yet a place from which to emerge? Let us examine the case.

PUBLIC CASE: Danxia asked a monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk replied, “From below the mountain.” Danxia asked, “Have you eaten your meal?” The monk replied, “I have eaten.” Danxia asked, “Did the person who brought you food to eat possess eyes?” The monk could not answer. Changqing asked Baofu, “When one brings food for another to eat, one has a share in repaying kindness. Why, then, does he not possess eyes?” Baofu replied, “Both the giver and the receiver are blind.” Changqing said, “If one exhausts the pivotal function, does one still become blind?” Baofu said, “Can you say that I am blind?”

EXPLANATION: Chan Master Tianran of Mount Danxia in Dengzhou was of unknown origin. At first, the Master studied the Confucian classics and was preparing to go to Chang’an to take the civil service examination. While lodging at an inn, he suddenly dreamed that white radiance filled the room.

An interpreter of dreams said, “This is an omen of understanding emptiness.” He met a Chan traveler who asked, “Worthy sir, where are you going?” The Master replied, “I am going to take the examination to become an official.” The Chan traveler said, “Taking the examination to become an official cannot compare with taking the examination to become a Buddha.” The Master asked, “Where must I go to take the examination for Buddhahood?” The Chan traveler said, “Master Ma is now in Jiangxi, opening the hall and instructing the assembly.

That is the examination ground for Buddhahood; worthy sir, you should go there.” The Master went directly to Jiangxi. As soon as he saw Master Ma, he raised both hands and pushed back the cap on his head. Master Ma scrutinized him and said, “I am not your teacher.

Go to Shitou at Nanyue.” The Master went directly to Shitou and again acted as before. Shitou told him, “Go down to the kitchen.” The Master bowed in thanks and entered the lay workers’ quarters, where he labored together with the assembly for three years. One day Shitou told the assembly, “Tomorrow morning, cut the grass in front of the Buddha hall.” The next day, the great assembly carried sickles before the Buddha hall to cut the grass.

The Master alone brought a basin of clean water and knelt before Shitou. Seeing this, Shitou laughed, shaved the Master’s head, and then began to recite the precepts. The Master covered his ears and walked out.

He went directly to Jiangxi to pay his respects to Mazu. Before formally making obeisance, he went straight into the Sangha hall, climbed up, and sat astride the neck of the sacred monk’s image. The assembly was astonished and hurried to report this to Mazu.

Mazu personally came to look and said, “My son is Tianran—Natural.” The Master climbed down, bowed, and said, “Thank you, Master, for bestowing a Dharma name upon me.” From this he came to be called Tianran. An ancient such as Tianran was always liberated; hence it is said that the examination for officialdom cannot compare with the examination for Buddhahood. The sayings of the Master recorded in the Transmission of the Lamp are truly like a sheer cliff rising a thousand fathoms.

Every sentence contains the means to pull out nails and wrench free pegs for people.

Thus he asked this monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk replied, “From below the mountain.” This monk, however, did not understand where he was going; he resembled a person with eyes who turns around and examines the host. At that time, had it not been Danxia, it would have been difficult to grasp him. Danxia then asked, “Have you eaten your meal?” At first, none of this had yet been seen; with this second question, Danxia discerned him.

The monk replied, “I have eaten.” The benighted fellow fundamentally did not understand. Danxia asked, “Did the person who brought you food to eat possess eyes?” The monk could not answer. Danxia’s meaning was: Of what use is the person who brought you food?

If this monk had been someone else, he might have given the Master a slap; let us see what the Master would have done. Even so, Danxia still had not let him go. That monk’s eyes flickered rapidly, but he had no words with which to reply.

Baofu and Changqing both lived in Xuefeng’s assembly and often raised the public cases of the ancients for discussion. Changqing asked Baofu, “When one brings food for another to eat, one has a share in repaying kindness. Why, then, does he not possess eyes?” He was not necessarily asking for a complete explanation of the affair in this public case.

In general, he borrowed these words as a meditation topic in order to test the other’s genuine realization. Baofu said, “Both the giver and the receiver are blind.” How excellent! On reaching this point, one discusses only the matter of the immediate pivotal moment; within the house there is a road by which to emerge.

Changqing said, “If one exhausts the pivotal function, does one still become blind?” Baofu said, “Can you say that I am blind?” Baofu’s meaning was: “I possess eyes in this way and have already spoken for you; can you still say that I am blind?” Even so, this was half closed and half open. At that time, had this mountain monk been there, when Changqing said, “If one exhausts the pivotal function, does one still become blind?” I would merely have said to him, “Blind.” It is regrettable that Baofu, at that time, could not bring down the single word “blind”; otherwise, Xuedou would have been spared all these entangling vines.

Xuedou used precisely this meaning in his verse:

VERSE: Exhausting the pivotal function, one does not become blind;

He presses down the ox’s head to make it eat grass.

The twenty-eight Indian and six Chinese ancestral masters—

They brought forth the precious vessel and thereby incurred blame.

The blame is profound, with nowhere to seek it;

In heaven and among humankind, all sink together into the land.

TRANSLATION:

The ultimate capacity does not become blind;

Holding back the ox’s head while it eats grass.

The thirty-three ancestral teachers—

The precious vessel, preserved until now, has become an error.

The error is profound, with nowhere to seek it;

Heaven and the human world are alike submerged.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: In the line, “The ultimate capacity does not become blind,” Changqing said, “When a person of ultimate capacity comes, does he then become blind?” Baofu said, “Can you call me blind?” This resembles “holding back the ox’s head while it eats grass.” One must be one with it and eat naturally; yet here he holds back the ox’s head while it eats grass. By versifying it in this way, Xuedou naturally reveals Danxia’s meaning.

“The thirty-three ancestral teachers—the precious vessel, preserved until now, has become an error.” This does not merely implicate Changqing; even the twenty-eight Indian patriarchs and the six Chinese patriarchs are all buried at once. For forty-nine years, Buddha Shakyamuni expounded the entire Great Canon, and in the end transmitted only this one precious vessel. Yongjia said, “This is not a matter of obliterating form or an empty transmission; the Tathagata’s precious staff still bears traces.” If one gives rise to Baofu’s interpretation, then the precious vessel preserved until now has ultimately become an error.

“The error is profound, with nowhere to seek it.” This cannot be explained to you; merely find a place to sit peacefully and examine it within this line. Since the error is profound, why is there nowhere to seek it? This is no minor error, for it causes the great matter of the ancestral teachers to be completely submerged on level ground, all at once.

Therefore Xuedou said, “Heaven and the human world are alike submerged.”

CASE 77: YUNMEN’S SESAME CAKE

POINTER: Turning upward, one can pierce the nostrils of everyone under heaven, like a falcon seizing a dove. Turning downward, one’s own nostrils are in another’s hands, like a turtle concealed within its shell. If someone here were to come forth and say, “From the beginning there has been neither upward nor downward; what need is there to turn?” simply tell him, “I also know that you are making a livelihood inside a demon’s cave.” Tell me, how can black and white be distinguished? After remaining silent for a while, he said, “If there is a branch, grasp the branch; if there is no branch, grasp the twig. Let us examine this.”

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Yunmen, “What is a saying that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs?” Yunmen replied, “Sesame cake.”

COMMENTARY: A monk asked Yunmen, “What is a saying that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs?” Yunmen replied, “Sesame cake.” On hearing this, do you feel your brain shudder and the hairs on your body stand on end? Zen travelers ask about the Buddha and the patriarchs, about Zen and the Way, about the upward and the downward; then, when there is nowhere left to formulate a question, they ask about a saying that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs. Yunmen was an adept: where the water is deep, the ship rides high; where the land is vast, the Buddha is great. He answered, “Sesame cake.” It may rightly be said that his words were not empty and his effort was not displayed in vain.

Yunmen instructed the assembly: “Do not give rise to deluded understanding. As soon as you hear someone speak of the ancestral teacher’s meaning, you ask about the principle that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs. First tell me what a Buddha is and what a patriarch is; only then may you ask about transcending the Buddhas and going beyond the patriarchs.

It is like asking about going beyond the three realms—bring me the three realms and let me see them! What seeing, hearing, understanding, or knowing is there that can obstruct you? What sounds, forms, or Buddha Dharma are there for you to comprehend?

What bowl is there to comprehend? By what interpretation do you create distinctions? What can those ancient sages do to you?

When the body moves freely in every direction, what is it? It is said that the whole body is entirely real, that in each thing the essence is seen, yet it cannot be attained. If I tell you directly what this matter is, it has already been buried long ago.”

If you understand these words, you will immediately understand the sesame cake. Wuzu said, “Donkey dung compared with musk.” Thus it is said, “Directly cutting off the root-source is what the Buddha sealed; searching among leaves and pursuing branches is beyond my ability.” Upon arriving here, if you wish to attain intimacy, do not bring questions to ask. See how this monk asked, “What is a saying that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs?” Yunmen said, “Sesame cake.” Do you know shame? Do you understand where the tail has shown itself?

There is a group of muddled compilers who say that Yunmen released the hawk upon seeing the rabbit, and therefore said, “Sesame cake.” If so, taking sesame cake as transcending the Buddhas and going beyond the patriarchs and making this one’s understanding—how could there be any path to life? Do not form an understanding of “sesame cake,” nor should you form an understanding of “transcending the Buddhas and going beyond the patriarchs.” Only then is there a path to life. It is of the same kind as “three pounds of flax” and “he knows how to beat the drum.” Nevertheless, though he merely said, “Sesame cake,” it is truly difficult to see.

Later people mostly contrive a principle, saying, “Coarse speech and subtle words alike return to the ultimate truth.” If you understand it this way, go become a doctrinal lecturer; throughout your life you will accumulate much knowledge and many interpretations. Zen travelers today say, “When one transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs, the Buddhas are trampled beneath one’s heels, and the patriarchs are likewise trampled beneath one’s heels. Therefore Yunmen merely said ‘sesame cake’ to him.” But since it is sesame cake, how could it understand transcending the Buddhas and going beyond the patriarchs? Investigate this carefully.

There are many verses on this case in various places, but all of them fashion words around the monk’s question. Xuedou’s verse alone is excellent. Let us examine it.

VERSE:

Zen travelers ask exceedingly many questions about transcendent discourse;

Can you see the seams split apart in their patchwork?

The sesame cake presses down, yet still they will not stop;

To this day, there is still boastful deception throughout the world.

TRANSLATION:

Zen travelers ask exceedingly many questions about transcendent discourse;

Can you see the seams split apart in their patchwork?

The sesame cake presses down, yet still they will not stop;

To this day, there is still boastful deception throughout the world.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “Zen travelers ask exceedingly many questions about transcendent discourse.” Zen travelers particularly delight in asking about this. Have you not heard Yunmen say: “You people carry your staffs horizontally and say, ‘I practice Zen and study the Way,’ and then immediately seek a principle that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs. I ask you: throughout the twelve hours of the day, while walking, standing, sitting, and lying down; while urinating and defecating; even as maggots in a cesspit or while buying and selling mutton in the marketplace—is there also a principle that transcends the Buddhas and goes beyond the patriarchs?

If you can speak, come forth and speak. If not, do not obstruct me from going east or west.” He then descended from the seat.

Some people, not knowing good from bad, draw a circle, adding mud to the ground and putting a cangue over shackles. “Can you see the seams split apart in their patchwork?” The place from which that monk fashioned his question had the nature of patchwork. Yunmen saw the seams of his question split apart; therefore he used the sesame cake to patch, cover, block, and halt him.

Yet that monk himself still would not stop and returned to question him. Therefore Xuedou said, “The sesame cake presses down, yet still they will not stop; to this day, there is still boastful deception throughout the world.” Zen travelers merely concern themselves with forming an understanding upon the sesame cake; otherwise, they construct a principle upon transcending the Buddhas and going beyond the patriarchs. Since it is not at either of these two extremes, where is it ultimately?

Thirty years from now, when this mountain monk returns after exchanging his bones, I will tell you.

CASE 78: THE BODHISATTVAS ENTER THE BATH

PUBLIC CASE: Long ago, sixteen bodhisattvas entered the Sangha bathhouse in sequence to bathe and suddenly awakened through the water. Virtuous Zen practitioners, how do you understand this? It is said: “The wondrous touch clearly reveals that one abides in the station of a Buddha’s child.” Yet one must also be pierced through seven times and penetrated eight times before this can be attained.

EXPLANATION: In the Surangama assembly, Bodhisattva Bhadrapala and sixteen adepts, each practicing the pure conduct, each spoke of the causal basis through which he realized the Dharma-gate of perfect penetration. This, too, was one of the twenty-five gates of perfect penetration. When he went to the Sangha bathhouse and entered the bath in due order, he suddenly awakened through the water, saying: “It neither washes away dust nor washes the body.” Tell me, what does it wash?

If you understand, you are serene and empty in the midst of it, and though a thousand or ten thousand people stand nearby, they cannot approach you. Thus it is said that true prajna is attained through there being nothing to attain; if there is something attained, it is merely an imitation of prajna. Patriarch Bodhidharma told the Second Patriarch, “Bring forth your mind, and I will pacify it for you.” The Second Patriarch said, “Though I have sought the mind, ultimately it cannot be found.” This little bit here is the fundamental life-root of a student of Zen.

Nor is there any need at all for a profusion of entangling vines; all that is needed is suddenly to awaken through the water, and realization naturally becomes complete. Since it neither washes away dust nor washes the body, tell me, what did he awaken to? Upon reaching such a realm, not even a single speck can adhere; even the word “Buddha” must be shunned.

He said: “The wondrous touch was clearly revealed, and I attained the station of a child of the Buddha.” “Revealed” means made manifest, and wondrous touch means illumination. Having awakened to the wondrous touch and attained the station of a child of the Buddha, he thereby abided in the Buddha-ground. People today also enter bathhouses, wash with water, and experience the same contact; why do they not awaken?

Because they are obscured by sensory objects, clinging to skin and lodged in bone, they cannot immediately become vividly awake. If, within this, washing is unattainable, touch is unattainable, and even the water as a causal condition is unattainable, tell me: is this the clear revelation of wondrous touch, or is it not? If you can see directly within this, then the wondrous touch is clearly revealed and you attain the station of a child of the Buddha.

People today also experience touch, but do they perceive its wondrous aspect? Wondrous touch is not ordinary touch. When it accords with a person’s contact, it is touch; when separated from it, it is not.

Xuansha, while climbing a mountain, struck and injured a toe; and then there was Deshan’s staff—were these not wondrous touch? Even so, you must be pierced through seven times and penetrated eight times before it will do. If you merely seek upon the body, what relevance does that have?

If you are pierced through seven times and penetrated eight times, why would you need to enter a bathhouse? Upon the tip of a single hair you immediately manifest the realm of the Jewel King, and within a mote of dust you turn the great Dharma wheel. Penetrate one place, and a thousand or ten thousand places are penetrated simultaneously.

Do not cling to a single cave or nest. Every place without exception is Guanyin’s gate of entry into the principle. Among the ancients, some awakened to the Way upon hearing a sound, while others clarified the mind upon seeing a form.

If one person’s awakening was valid, why did the sixteen adepts awaken simultaneously? Thus, the ancients practiced together, realized together, awakened together, and understood together. Xuedou brings up the meaning of that teaching so that people may reach the place of wondrous touch and awaken to it.

His verse brings forth the eye of that teaching, enabling people to escape the net of doctrine that covers them, leaving them half drunk and half awake. His essential aim is that people should become utterly clean on the spot and walk freely away.

VERSE: For an accomplished patch-robed monk, only one is needed

He lies at length upon the long bench, legs fully stretched

Once in a dream he spoke of awakening to perfect penetration

Washed with scented water, he spits straight in his face.

TRANSLATION: For an accomplished Zen monk, only one is needed

He lies upon the bench with his legs stretched straight

Once in a dream he spoke of awakening to perfect penetration

Washed with scented water, he spits straight in his face.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: As for the line, “For an accomplished patch-robed monk, only one is needed,” tell me: what matter has been accomplished? When an adept student of Zen hears it raised, he gets up and immediately leaves. For a Zen monk such as this, only one is needed; what need is there to form a crowd or gather a group?

The line, “He lies at length upon the long bench, legs fully stretched,” recalls an ancient’s saying: “Clearly there is no Dharma to awaken to; after awakening, it is still delusion. Stretching both legs straight, one sleeps—there is neither falsehood nor truth.” Thus, with not a single concern in his breast, he eats when hungry and snores when tired. Xuedou’s meaning is this: if you say that by entering the bathhouse you awakened to the clear revelation of wondrous touch, then from the standpoint of an unconcerned Zen monk, this is merely speaking of a dream within a dream.

Therefore he says: “Once in a dream he spoke of awakening to perfect penetration; washed with scented water, he spits straight in his face.” Conduct like this is merely pouring filthy water straight over your head. What perfect penetration are you talking about? Xuedou says that a person of this sort deserves to be spat upon directly on the head and in the face.

This mountain monk says that it adds another layer of mud upon the ground.

CASE 79: TOUZI—EVERY SOUND IS THE BUDDHA’S VOICE

POINTER: When the great function manifests before you, no rules or patterns remain. Capturing alive and imprisoning requires no superfluous effort. Tell me, who has ever come in this way? Let us see by presenting the case.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Touzi, “Is every sound the Buddha’s voice?” Touzi replied, “Yes.” The monk said, “Master, do not say that the sound of passing wind and the clatter of bowls are the Buddha’s voice.” Touzi immediately struck him. The monk asked again, “Do coarse words and subtle speech alike return to the ultimate meaning?” Touzi replied, “Yes.” The monk said, “May I call you a donkey, Master?” Touzi immediately struck him.

EXPLANATION: Touzi was straightforward, yet possessed extraordinary eloquence surpassing all others. Whenever someone questioned him, the instant the person opened his mouth Touzi saw directly into his secret. Without wasting any effort, he cut off the other person’s tongue.

He truly deserved to be called one who, seated within a sealed chamber and making his calculations, determines victory a thousand miles away. This monk had pasted an understanding of the Buddhadharma concerning sound and form upon his forehead, and whenever he met someone, he questioned him about it. Touzi was an adept who could discern clearly as soon as the wind arose.

This monk knew Touzi’s honest place, so he set a trap to lure Touzi inside; hence the words that followed. Touzi, in turn, employed a tiger-snaring mechanism to draw out the monk’s next words. Seizing upon Touzi’s answer, the monk immediately said, “Master, do not say that the sound of passing wind and the clatter of bowls are the Buddha’s voice.” Sure enough, as soon as the hook was cast, the fish was caught.

Had it been someone else, he could have done nothing with this monk. Touzi, possessing the clear eye, immediately followed up with a blow. The means of chewing up dogs and swine must indeed be entrusted to an adept: turn it to the left and it rolls along with him; turn it to the right and it rolls along with him.

This monk had constructed a trap and intended to pluck the tiger’s whiskers. How could he have known that Touzi would walk over his trap? Thus Touzi immediately struck him.

Regrettably, this monk had a head but no tail. At that moment, when the Master raised his staff, he should have overturned the Zen bench. Even if Touzi had manifested his entire functioning, he still would have had to retreat three thousand miles.

The monk asked again, “Do coarse words and subtle speech alike return to the ultimate meaning?” Touzi likewise said, “Yes.” This was exactly like the previous question, without the slightest difference. The monk said, “May I call you a donkey, Master?” Touzi struck him again. Nevertheless, the den this monk constructed was truly extraordinary.

An eyeless old master seated upon a wooden bench would also have found it difficult to break him. Touzi had a place in which to turn himself around. This monk had devised his reasoning with the essential aim of overturning Touzi’s worth, yet in the end, just as before, he could do nothing with old Touzi.

Yantou said, “When it comes to battle, each stands at the place where he can turn.” Touzi let go very slowly but gathered back far too quickly. At that moment, if the monk had known how to turn himself around and breathe out, would he not have become one whose mouth was like a basin of blood? A student of Zen does not act once and then stop at the second.

This monk was neither skilled at leaping nor adept at dodging, and Touzi once again pierced him through the nostrils.

VERSE: Touzi! Touzi! The wheel of activity meets no obstruction

Letting one go, he gains two

The same as that, the same as this.

How infinitely pitiable, the man who plays in the tide

In the end, he falls into the tide and dies

Suddenly, he comes alive

A hundred rivers flow backward with a roaring din.

TRANSLATION: Touzi! Touzi! The wheel of activity meets no obstruction

Letting one go, he gains two

The same as that, the same as this.

How infinitely pitiable, the man who plays in the waves

In the end, he drowns and dies amid the waves

Suddenly, he comes alive

A hundred rivers flow backward with a roaring sound.

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: The two lines, “Touzi! Touzi! The pivotal mechanism turns without obstruction,” refer to how Touzi would ordinarily say: “All of you speak of Touzi’s true place, but if you suddenly went three steps down the mountain and someone asked, ‘What is Touzi’s true place?’ how would you answer?” An ancient said: “Where the pivotal mechanism turns, even an adept is still bewildered.” The Master’s pivotal mechanism turned smoothly and freely, entirely without obstruction.

Therefore Xuedou said, “Releasing one, he gains two.” For example, a monk asked, “What is Buddha?” Touzi replied, “Buddha.” He further asked, “What is the Way?” Touzi replied, “The Way.” He further asked, “What is Chan?” Touzi replied, “Chan.” He further asked, “What is it like before the moon is full?” Touzi replied, “Swallowing three or four whole.” He further asked, “And what is it like after it becomes full?” Touzi replied, “Spitting out seven or eight.” Touzi commonly received people by employing this mechanism.

His answer to the monk here was likewise merely the single word “Yes.” This monk was struck twice; therefore Xuedou said, “The same here, the same there.” These four lines complete the verse on Touzi. At the end, he versifies this monk, saying, “Pitiful indeed is the wave-sporting man.” The monk dared to seize the banner and capture the drum, saying, “Venerable, do not take the sound of retreat for the clatter of the begging bowl.” He also said, “May I call the Venerable a donkey?” This was where he sported upon the waves.

The monk exhausted his abilities, yet, as before, died within Touzi’s words. Touzi immediately struck him. Thus the monk “ultimately drowned and died within the waves.” Xuedou rescued the monk, saying, “He suddenly comes alive,” and at once overturned the Chan platform; even Touzi would have had to retreat three thousand miles.

Then “the hundred rivers flow backward with a roaring sound.” Not only would the Chan platform tremble, but even the mountains and rivers would be inundated, and heaven and earth plunged into darkness. If each and every one of you were like this, this mountain monk would have to beat the drum and retreat. Where would you establish your life and settle your being?

CASE 80: ZHAOZHOU’S NEWBORN INFANT

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Zhaozhou, “Does a newborn infant possess the six consciousnesses?” Zhaozhou replied, “Striking a ball upon swiftly flowing water.” The monk later asked Touzi, “What is the meaning of striking a ball upon swiftly flowing water?” Touzi replied, “Thought after thought, the current never ceases.”

EXPLANATION: The scriptural schools establish these six consciousnesses as the fundamental basis. Mountains, rivers, the great earth, the sun, moon, and stars all arise because of them. When they come, they are the vanguard; when they depart, they form the rear guard.

An ancient said, “The three realms are mind-only; the myriad dharmas are consciousness-only.” Upon realizing the stage of Buddhahood, the eight consciousnesses are transformed into the four wisdoms. The scriptural schools call this a change of name without a change of essence. Faculty, object, and consciousness are three.

External objects do not inherently know how to discriminate. The dominant faculty can give rise to consciousness, and consciousness can reveal and discriminate forms; this is the sixth, mental consciousness. The seventh consciousness is called manas-consciousness.

It retains all the reflected events of the world; that people are afflicted and lack freedom and ease is entirely due to the seventh consciousness. The eighth is called alaya-consciousness, also called the storehouse consciousness, because it stores all wholesome and unwholesome seeds. This monk understood the meaning of the teachings, so he brought the matter to Zhaozhou and asked, “Does a newborn infant possess the six consciousnesses?” Although a newborn infant possesses all six consciousnesses—its eyes can see and its ears can hear—it has never discriminated among the six sense objects, such as good and bad, long and short, right and wrong, gain and loss.

At that time, it knows none of these at all. Those who study the Way must be like an infant: honor and disgrace, fame and rank, adverse circumstances and favorable conditions can never move them. Seeing forms, their eyes are as though blind; hearing sounds, their ears are as though deaf.

They are as ignorant and witless, while their minds remain unmoved like Mount Sumeru. This is the place where a genuine Chan practitioner gains true strength. An ancient said, “Pull the blanket over your head and let the myriad affairs cease; at this time, this mountain monk understands absolutely nothing.” If you can be like this, only then will you have a small measure of accord.

Yet even so, not even a single point can deceive you: the mountains remain mountains as before, and the waters remain waters as before, without contrivance and without conditioned thought. It is like the sun and moon moving through empty space without ever resting even briefly, yet never saying how many names and characteristics they possess. Heaven covers all, and earth bears all; because they are without mind, they nurture the myriad things, yet they never speak of how many meritorious deeds they possess.

Because heaven and earth are without mind, they endure. If they had a mind, they would necessarily have limits. Those who attain the Way are likewise so: amid nonfunctioning, they manifest functioning, and they receive with a compassionate mind all adverse circumstances and favorable conditions.

Even upon arriving here, an ancient still rebuked it, saying: “When perfectly clear, there is nothing to be made clear; even the place of the mysterious within the mysterious must still be scolded.” It is also said: “Every affair penetrated, every thing illumined—the one who has attained the Way hears this and is inwardly alarmed.” It is also said: “Entering the sacred and transcending the ordinary, he leaves no trace; the sleeping dragon is ever wary of the limpid pool.

If people of the world could always be like this, how could the great earth retain even a single name?” Yet even so, one must still leap free of the nest before it will do. Have you not seen it said in the scriptures: “A bodhisattva on the eighth ground, the Immovable Ground, employs the wisdom of nonfunctioning to turn the great Dharma wheel within a speck of dust. At all times, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, unimpeded by gain or loss, the bodhisattva naturally flows into the ocean of sarvajna, all-knowledge.” When Chan monks arrive here, they likewise must not become attached.

They simply remain free and at ease according to the occasion: encountering tea, they drink tea; encountering rice, they eat rice. In this matter beyond, one cannot cling to the word “fixed,” nor can one cling to the word “unfixed.” Venerable Shandao of the Stone Grotto instructed the assembly: “Have you not seen a small child emerging from the womb? How could it ever say, ‘I know how to read the sutras’?

At that very time, it does not even know that there is a doctrine of Buddha-nature or a doctrine of no Buddha-nature. When it grows up and acquires all sorts of intellectual interpretations, it then says, ‘I can do this; I understand that,’ unaware that these are the afflictions of adventitious defilements. Among the sixteen contemplative practices, the infant’s practice is supreme.

The stage of babbling ‘da-da, wa-wa’ is used as an analogy for those studying the Way who have relinquished the discriminating mind of grasping and rejecting. Therefore the infant’s practice is praised and employed as an analogy. If one says that the infant itself is the Way, one is a person of the present age who has misunderstood.” Nanquan said, “Only after I was eighteen did I learn how to devise a livelihood.” Zhaozhou said, “Only after I was eighteen did I learn how to demolish the house and scatter the household.” He also said, “During my twenty years in the South, apart from the two daily meals of rice and gruel, all else was a place where the mind was applied indiscriminately.” Caoshan asked a monk, “A bodhisattva in samadhi clearly hears a great elephant crossing the river.

From which scripture does this come?” The monk said, “The Nirvana Sutra.” Caoshan asked, “Does the bodhisattva hear it before entering samadhi or after emerging from samadhi?” The monk said, “Venerable, you have drifted away.” Caoshan said, “Catch him downstream.” The Surangama Sutra says, “When stillness enters and merges with stillness, one enters the boundary of consciousness.” The Lankavatara Sutra says, “The characteristic of arising gives rise to obstructive attachment; conception gives rise to deluded thinking; and when continuous flow arises, one follows delusion and revolves along with the current.” Even if one reaches the ground of nonfunctioning, one still remains within the characteristic of continuous flow.

One must emerge from this third characteristic, the arising of continuous flow, before one can live joyfully, freely, and at ease. Therefore Guishan asked Yangshan, “Huiji, how are you?” Yangshan replied, “Does the Venerable ask about my understanding or about my practice? If you ask about my practice, I do not know.

If you ask about my understanding, it is like pouring water from one vessel into another.” Only upon attaining this can one be worthy of serving as a teacher in one region. Zhaozhou said, “Striking a ball upon swiftly flowing water”—already it rolls smoothly and freely. Moreover, when striking it upon swiftly flowing water, the moment the eye glances, it has already passed.

As the Surangama Sutra says, “It is like a swift current of water that appears, when observed, to be still.” An ancient said, “It is like swiftly flowing water: the current never stops; each moment does not know the next, and all dharmas are likewise so.” Zhaozhou’s answer contains this meaning.

That monk further asked Touzi, “What is the meaning of a stone ball upon swiftly flowing water?” Touzi replied, “Thought after thought, it flows without ceasing.” Naturally, his reply accorded with the question. The ancient masters’ practice was continuous and meticulous; their answers were simply of one piece, without any need for calculation. The moment you posed your question, they already knew where you would fall. Although an infant’s six consciousnesses do not function deliberately, thought after thought still does not cease, like an undercurrent flowing beneath the surface. Touzi answered in this way; it may rightly be said that he discerned the source as soon as the wind arose. Xuedou versified:

VERSE: The six consciousnesses, without function, present a single question;

The adepts once joined in discerning its source.

Vast and boundless, the swift water strikes the ball;

Never resting where it falls—who knows how to perceive it?

TRANSLATION: The six consciousnesses, without function, present a single question;

The adepts together discerned its source.

Vast and boundless, the flowing water strikes that ball;

Never resting where it falls—who knows how to see it?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Regarding the line, “The six consciousnesses, without function, present a single question”: when the ancients studied the Way and cultivated themselves to this point, it was called “functioning without function,” being of one kind with an infant. Though there are eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, they are unable to discriminate among the six sense objects, because there is no deliberate functioning.

Having arrived at this ground, one can subdue dragons and tame tigers, pass away while seated, or die while standing. People today need only bring all the myriad phenomena before their eyes to complete extinction at once; why must one necessarily have reached the Eighth Bodhisattva Ground or above to be like this? Nevertheless, at the place of nonfunctioning, as before, mountains are mountains and waters are waters.

Earlier, Xuedou versified, “Alive, having eyes, yet again the same as dead; as for medicines and prohibitions, why must an adept examine them?” Because Zhaozhou and Touzi were adepts, it is said: “The adepts once joined in discerning its source; vast and boundless, the swift water strikes the ball.” Touzi said, “Thought after thought, it flows without ceasing.” Do you know where it falls? At the end, Xuedou tells people to open their own eyes and see.

Therefore he says, “Never resting where it falls—who knows how to perceive it?” This is Xuedou’s living phrase. Tell me, where does it fall?