using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Buddhadharma : Winter 2008
buddhadharma: the practitioner’s quarterly wiNter 2 0 08 34 of hypocrisy. To open the gate of realization, one must block off one’s road of conceptualization. Gutei seized the boy and cut off his finger. The boy cried and began to run away. It was too sudden for the boy to think of anything; there was only the pain. At that moment, Gutei called for the boy to stop. The boy turned his head toward Gutei, and the master raised his finger. There! With his road of thinking blocked, the boy could be enlightened. This koan not only teaches you to realize Zen for yourself, but also shows you how to open the minds of others and let them see the truth as clearly as daylight. The power of Zen that Gutei received from Tenryu was not merely the act of raising a finger; it was the means to enlighten others. There- fore he said on his deathbed, “I attained my one-finger Zen from my teacher, Tenryu, and throughout my whole life, I have not exhausted it.” MuMon’s CoMMent The enlightenment that Gutei and the boy attained has noth- ing to do with the finger. If you cling to the finger, Tenryu will be so disappointed that he will annihilate—another Chinese expression; we should probably use the word “disown,” or “expel”—Gutei, the boy, and you. MuMon’s Verse Gutei cheapens Tenryu’s teaching Emancipating the boy with a knife. Compared to the Chinese god who divided a mountain with one hand, Old Gutei is a poor imitator. A Chinese myth tells us that the Yellow River at first could not run toward the east, as there was a great mountain in the way. A god came to help, and divided the mountain into two parts, so that the water could run through. If you look care- fully at those two mountains, you will find the fingerprints of this god. Such a story! Zen never asks us to believe in mira- cles, but we Zen students perform miracles without knowing it ourselves. Didn’t I give you a koan in this seclusion: “After you have entered into the house, then let the house enter into you.” Now, show me how you accomplish this trick! Those who are still working on this koan: have a cup of tea and go home. You will sleep soundly tonight. • Case Four: A Beardless Foreigner • Seeing a picture of Bodhidharma, Wakuan asked, “Why does that son of a western barbarian have no beard?” Bodhisattvas: Zen master Wakuan was born in 1108 and died in 1179, in the Sung Dynasty. In his time many foreign- ers entered China from India, Persia, and other countries of Central Asia. The Chinese called them all foreigners. The majority of Chinese people even called them barbarians, as they thought they themselves were the only civilized people, living at the very center of the world. Zen teachers used the slang of the day freely to express direct meaning. They called Bodhidharma “a son of a barbarian” or “that old blue-eyed barbarian.” Today, too, Zen monks are so intimate with Bodhidharma that they do not call him master, lord, or teacher. Instead they call him “that fellow,” and many a time “this fellow.” Thus Bodhidharma is the monk, and the monk is Bodhidharma. To pay homage to Bodhidharma is to respect oneself, and one’s cup of tea is actually sipped by the lips of Bodhidharma. Probably Wakuan had shaved that morning, and, rubbing his chin with his hand, he might have said, “Well, well, the beard of Bodhidharma is all gone.” In a picture, even in a photograph, we can see only the shadow, but not the real substance. If you add to the picture of Bodhidharma the missing beard, then you will miss his ears, or else his wrinkles. When you gather together all sorts of attributes, you can never encounter the real substance. No poem or prose can describe the fullness of Bodhidharma’s image. No music of worldly instruments can reproduce the voice of Bodhidharma’s preaching. only in the palace of your inner self do you meet Bodhidharma face-to-face—nay, you open his eyes, and he smiles with your mouth and all your features. Do not call it realization or enlightenment; such names will spoil your fun. You are a son of a barbarian. You ought to be satisfied with the name. MuMon’s CoMMent If you want to practice Zen, it must be true practice. When you attain realization, it must be true realization. You your- self must have the face of the great Bodhidharma to see him. Just one glimpse will be enough. But if you say you have met him, you have never seen him at all. The last sentence is the most important for you. Did you ever experience meeting a person for the first time whom