Blue Cliff Record Case 51: Hsueh Feng’s What Is It? – Talk 1
January 11, 1984 Dharma Talk by Dainin Katagiri Roshi
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Transcript
This transcript is in draft stage.
0:00
Katagiri Roshi: The 51st case, Hsueh Feng’s “What Is It?” Let me read the case first:
When Hsueh Feng was living in a hut, there were two monks who came to pay their respects. Seeing them coming, he pushed open the door of the hut with his hand, popped out, and said, “What is it?” A monk also said, “What is it?” Feng lowered his head and went back inside the hut.
Later the monk came to Yen T’ou. T’ou asked, “Where are you coming from?” The monk said, “I’ve come from Ling Nan.” T’ou said, “Did you ever go to Hsueh Feng?” The monk said, “I went there.” T’ou said, “What did he have to say?” The monk recounted the preceding story. T’ou said, “What did he say?” The monk said, “He said nothing; he lowered his head and went back inside the hut.” T’ou said, “Alas! It’s too bad I didn’t tell him the last word before; if I had told him, no one on earth could cope with old Hsueh.”
At the end of the summer the monk again brought up the preceding story to ask for instruction. T’ou said, “Why didn’t you ask earlier?” The monk said, “I didn’t dare to be casual.” T’ou said, “Though Hsueh Feng is born of the same lineage as me, he doesn’t die in the same lineage as me. If you want to know the last word, just this is it.”
( From The Blue Cliff Record, translated by Thomas Cleary & J.C. Cleary.)
Hsueh Feng was one of the famous Zen masters in China in the 8th century or so… no, 9th century. Belonging to the Seigen Gyōshi lineage, in other words, Tozan Zen Master’s lineage. And also another person here in [the koan], Yen T’ou was in the relation of [dharma] brother with Hsueh Feng. Both came under the guidance of Tokusan Zen Master (Deshan Xuanjian), who lived from 780 to 865. So both Hsueh Feng and Yen T’ou practiced for a long time under the guidance of Tokusan Zen master. And the two monks in this case practiced under the guidance of Hsueh Feng.
I think if you read the commentary, look at page 347 just a little, it says, the fourth paragraph from the top:
Later, due to a purge, Yen T’ou became a ferryman by the shores of Lake O Chu. On each shore hung a board: when someone wanted to cross, he would knock on the board. T’ou would call out, “Which side are you crossing to?” Then he would wave his oar and come out from among the reeds.
From this paragraph, I think [in these days] Buddhism was about to be destroyed by a government. That’s why here it says, “Later, due to a purge.” So all the Zen monks had to come out of the temple and hide somewhere. The same applied to Hsueh Feng and also Yen T’ou. In the story Yen T’ou became a ferryman, carrying the people from this shore to the other shore.
In Chinese Buddhist history sometimes you can find a very interesting point, because Chinese history always went up and down very roughly. And nevertheless, the history of Buddhism was not exceptional, so Buddhism also always was going up and down. Sometimes Buddhism flourished very well, but sometimes Buddhism was almost destroyed. But whatever happened, a very interesting thing was that the Zen monks always survived, somewhere. And then after the peaceful world was coming up, then the monks came back, and they started to practice and study Buddhism again.
So this is one pretty interesting case. Here it says “later due to a purge”: even though Yen T’ou became a ferryman, still people were interested in this ferryman. Sometimes people went to see him and discuss, listen to his life.
So in this case, Hsueh Feng also was hidden in the heart of the mountains, which was a little difficult for the people to find him. Maybe he lived in the heart of the mountains in a little hut. That’s why it says,
When Hsueh Feng was living in a hut, …
So he didn’t have his temple. But nevertheless, monks were interested in seeing him and practicing with him. So,
… there were two monks who came to pay their respects.
8:38
Seeing them coming, he pushed open the door of the hut with his hand, popped out, and said, “What is it?”
Hsueh Feng […] opened the door and he came out first, initiatively, and said, “What is it?”
A monk also said, “What is it?”
Usually most people were knocked over in a heap by the famous Zen master’s initiative remarks; most monks couldn’t say anything after his remarks. But in this case, this monk is pretty good, because he said also, “What is it,” immediately after Hsueh Feng said it. So just like a parrot imitating his words, but immediately the two monks said [it] like this. Hsueh Feng was a pretty famous and very powerful person, so usually most people became [like] a frog in front of a snake; most of the people couldn’t say anything. But they said the same words.
So, after that,
Feng lowered his head and went back inside the hut.
So maybe this is pretty meaningful. [But] they thought that Hsueh Feng probably accepted these two monks’ spiritual career through their message, so-called “What is it?” In other words, they believed that Hsueh Feng accepted their spiritual career and [respected them] without saying, so that’s why Hsueh Feng bowed and went back to his hut. That means the two monks really believed that they were pretty good, [and] that’s why Hsueh Feng accepted them.
But still, […] they really couldn’t forget Hsueh Feng’s acceptance. So, someday they wanted to make sure whether Hsueh Feng’s acceptance was true or not, by another Zen master. That’s why,
Later the monk came to Yen T’ou. T’ou asked, “Where are you coming from?” The monk said, “I’ve come from Ling Nan.” T’ou said, “Did you ever go to Hsueh Feng?” The monk said, “I went there.” T’ou said, “What did he have to say?”
[In other words,] if you went to see Hsueh Feng, what did you learn? If you learned something, what did he say?
So, T’ou said, “What did he have to say?” But the monk didn’t say anything about this question, but:
The monk recounted the preceding story.
They repeated the stories that they had had at Hsueh Feng’s hut.
So, the monk recounted the preceding story, [and]
T’ou said, “What did he say?”
It’s not all he wanted to know. T’ou wanted to know what Hsueh Feng said. So that’s why T’ou questioned once more again, “What did he say?”
The monk said, “He said nothing; …”
Still these monks didn’t understand exactly. Even though they believed that Hsueh Feng might accept these two monks’ spiritual career, still there was something vague, that’s why they wanted to make sure of whether it was true or not. So, the monk said, “He said nothing; …”
“… he lowered his head and went back inside the hut.”
So, that means the two monks really wanted to say something real they believed to Yen T’ou; that’s why they repeated the same situation. [But] T’ou understood pretty well why Hsueh Feng lowered his head and went back.
Because, “What is it?” is not merely question mark “what is it?” “What is it” in Buddhism is always pointing out real reality, real truth. Philosophically, we say emptiness. In other words, “what is it” is [the] implication of the real word, which has no particular root; so-called emptiness. That is Hsueh Feng’s words, “What is it?”
The two monks also said the same thing, but I don’t know how much they understood this, because according to Yen T’ou’s statement in the next lines, the two monks seemed not to understand what it meant:
T’ou said, “Alas! It’s too bad I didn’t tell him the last word before; if I had told him, no one on earth could cope with old Hsueh.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t tell him the last word before”: this is a really important point in this case. The last word; unfortunately Yen T’ou didn’t tell him the last word.
That last word is completely beyond the word, [beyond] before word and after word. The last word means, “What is it?” This is the last word.
Even if you understand the truth, understanding of the truth is not the last word. Experience of the truth is not the last word. The last word is the truth itself.
For instance, no matter how long you say “fire” with your mouth, it is not the last word in order to understand what the fire is. Because, the word is a word. So the last word of fire is “What is it?” “What is it.” The last word of fire is the fire itself.
So, no matter how long you emphasize that you have a great career of experiencing the truth, or enlightenment, or ultimate truth – through zazen, through Buddhist practice, or through other religious experience and practice – it is not the last word. The last word is exactly “What is it?” “What is it?”
So that’s why Yen T’ou said here, “Alas, it’s too bad I didn’t tell him the last word before.” The last word is always there. Regardless of whether the world was born, or in the beginning of the world, or end of the world, or after or before the word, always there is the last word.
So, anyway, Yen T’ou says, “Alas! It’s too bad I didn’t tell him the last word before; if I had told him, no one on earth could cope with old Hsueh.”
Well, if you can tell the last word to somebody – that’s great. That’s great. Well, in Sōtō Zen, it is called dharma transmission. Dharma transmission is really the last word. We have to tell [it].
Plainly speaking, the last word for usual people is the great sublimity of human life you have to transmit to the next generation. It is not teaching; it is not words. It is not something you have to give to somebody who doesn’t have it. Everyone has it. To transmit something is… to take it out from [the] individual, […] who has this truth [or] important thing.
So, zazen gives you anything, but zazen helps you to realize the buddha-nature, zazen doesn’t give you the buddha-nature. Well, zazen gives anything to you. But zazen […] helps you to realize what you have, how sublime your life is. That is the meaning of zazen.
So, if you can realize how sublime your life is, that realization is supremely important. Nobody touches it. You alone know it – clearly, very clearly. That is called, practically speaking, spiritual security. Well, usually [we’d use] “faith.”
So that’s why here it says, “If I had told him, no one on earth could cope with old Hsueh.”
22:08
At the end of the summer the monk again brought up the preceding story to ask for instruction.
The two monks didn’t understand the meaning of “the last word”; that’s why they contemplated this koan for 90 days.
T’ou said, “Why didn’t you ask earlier?”
Because the last word exists always. [Unintelligible] … completely beyond [whether] you understand or you don’t understand… anyway, you should face directly. In other words, you should [knock on the door] again and again.
So, that’s why he said, “Why didn’t you ask earlier?” The monk answered very honestly:
“I didn’t dare to be casual.”
Because it was pretty difficult.
So,
T’ou said, “Though Hsueh Feng is born of the same lineage as me, …”
Hsueh Feng and Yen T’ou were in the relation of dharma brothers; that’s why he said “the same lineage as me.” That means Yen T’ou and Hsueh Feng were born in this world not separately, [but] on the same and one level of the ground, so-called buddha-nature.
When you climb the mountains, you mustn’t be separate from the mountains. While you are separated from the mountain, the mountain becomes a big burden for you. You have to carry the mountain on your back. It makes you tired. But when you become one with the mountain, […] while the mountain exists in front of you, anytime, anywhere you can climb the mountain, completely beyond the idea of risking your life, or hard work, or easy work. In other words, you must be born in the same world as the mountain.
We say dōshō dōshi; that means you must be born simultaneously with the mountain. Mountain is born simultaneously with your birth. That means you must be one with the mountain’s life.
But on the other hand, you are you; mountain is mountain.
But exactly there is [that] the mountain and you are one. That’s why you become a great mountaineer. No one touches you. No one knows why you have to climb the mountain, risking your life, at the expense of your life. There is no guarantee whether you can survive, whether you die. There is no guarantee. But completely beyond human speculation, you can climb the mountain, constantly.
But you know pretty well you are you, mountain is mountain. So in your whole life you have to learn what the mountain is, you have to learn who you are, constantly. Simultaneously you have to learn all living beings around the mountain, within the mountain, outside of the mountain. Within you, outside of you.
So very naturally there is a great dynamic working between you and the mountains. They are two; they are not two. They are one, but they are not one. You can really feel dynamic working as one, beyond the idea of one or two. That is nothing but practice itself. You just climb the mountains.
So that’s why T’ou said,
“Though Hsueh Feng is born of the same lineage as me, he doesn’t die in the same lineage as me.” …
Because mountain is mountain, you are you. But mountains and you, and trees, birds, all sentient beings, were born in the same lineage as you.
… “If you want to know the last word, just this is it.”
This is the last word: just this is it.
“Just this is it” means, when you do gassho, what is the last word of the gassho? The last word of the gassho is just this is it. So what is the last word of fire? Just this is it.
What is the last word of the chanting of a sutra? The last word of the chanting is completely beyond good chanter or bad chanter. The last word of chanting is completely beyond perceptions. Just this is it means just chanting. You must jump into the real process of the chanting. You must be alive right in the middle of chanting. They are two, but they are not two. They are one, but they are not one, if you think it.
But when you are merged with process itself, well, that process of the practice you become merged with [is] completely beyond dichotomy. That means, just this is it.
Well, I cannot say who I [really] am, in talking, in zazen. I cannot say. It’s pretty hard to say [something] about the last word of my zazen. The last word of my zazen is, anyway, just this is it.
In other words, “look at this zazen” – maybe you can say [that]. But real zazen, the last word of zazen, is something maybe more than that, more than “just this is it.” That is just this is it. It means you have to do it.
30:20
So, let’s read the pointer. The pointer says,
As soon as there is affirmation and denial, you lose your mind in confusion.
Always there is affirmation and denial. Darkness and light. The source of existence and the branches of existence.
So we chant every morning in the Sandokai, “The Merging of Difference and Unity.” We always say that “right in light there is darkness, but don’t confound it as darkness. Right in darkness there is light, but don’t see it as light.”
Darkness is the implication of the real reality. Light is the phenomenal world, when the darkness or real reality operates. When the real reality operates, it manifest itself as phenomena, which is called light.
So, the microphone, floor, everybody, all of you, are beings which are existing very clearly. Clearly means you are buddha-nature. It’s very clear. You are not the you seen from certain ideas or scientific opinions – in terms of biology, in terms of science, physics, etc. You are buddha-nature, greatness of existence. That is clear, very clear; that’s why we say light. Phenomena is nothing but the functioning of the truth, real reality. That is called light; phenomena.
So that’s why [it says] “right in light there is darkness, but don’t confound it as darkness.” If you see the darkness, you are stuck there.
[Tape change.]
… pitfall of enlightenment. So, that’s why here it says […] don’t see it as darkness.
“Right in darkness there is light, but don’t see it as light.” Because light and darkness, truth and phenomena, are working together. We cannot separate [them]. Mountain and you [are] working together – otherwise you cannot climb the mountain, you cannot feel a lightness of the mountain’s life. You cannot. You and mountains are really working together; that’s why you really love the mountains.
That’s why next it says, “Light and dark are relative to one another, like forward and backward steps.” Just like the forward and backward steps you experience every day. But something more than back and forward steps. It’s working at super-speed.
The same applies to affirmation and denial, and truth and phenomena. So “as soon as there is affirmation and denial,” if you see even slightly a perception of the affirmation you attach to, “you lose your mind in confusion,” because immediately you see denial.
If you say, “I am happy,” you can see immediately [its] shadow, unhappiness. That’s why very naturally you are confused – because you don’t understand what happiness is. So you lose your mind in confusion.
35:01
If you don’t fall into grades and stages, then there is no seeking.
But nevertheless, you cannot ignore the definition of you as you, the definition of mountains as mountains. So, mountains are mountains, you are you. There are stages, and grade, and career, you can experience step by step. “If you don’t fall into grades and stages, then there is no seeking” – there is no development, usually. There is no sense of progress.
As long as we exist in the dualistic world, we cannot ignore a sense of progress. Stages. Grades. Races. Many kinds of discrimination. [Relativities.] Not-peace, or peace. Liberty or non-liberty.
So, “if you don’t fall into grades and stages, then there is no seeking.” If you don’t accept this discrimination, you are also at a loss what to do.
The final beautiful ideal image of human life is living in the realm of no government, and no regulations, and no sectarianism, no races – exactly, you know? And then that is a really peaceful, wonderful Buddha’s world.
But I don’t mean that you should ignore the world of regulations, and constitutions, and government, and moralities, and religious life, et cetera. I tell you very often: ethics and government and regulations must be accepted by all sentient beings, because without this we cannot live in order.
But a point is, we have to digest through and through the constitutions, ethics, and government […] until its form or trace appears in your life – in other words ethics, regulations, constitutions are completely alive in your life.
If you want to know the American constitution, you should know yourself. So, your life is the constitution. But your life is always working very smoothly, without being stuck in the idea of the constitution. Because your whole life is the constitution.
So at that time, it is called no government, no constitution. And then, that is called morality, because people can live in peace and harmony, without government. How do they live? According to morality, they can live.
That’s why if you live, you should accept morality. But if you are stuck in morality, morality becomes a big burden for you. On the other hand, you cannot ignore it. So the important point is that morality must be digested in your life perfectly, completely, through and through, until it doesn’t appear in your life, so morality is your life. At that time, morality is no trace of morality. “No trace of morality” is called spiritual life, so-called religion. So, if you have a spiritual life, no morality; it’s not necessary to have morality, because morality is included in spiritual life.
And next, still you should accept spiritual life, but still spiritual life becomes a big burden. So, spiritual life must be digested through and through in your life, until it doesn’t appear [on the surface] […] And then, spiritual life doesn’t leave its own trace. At that time, it is called peace, harmony.
So, when the spiritual life is completely digested in your life: perfect peace. That is called liberty, freedom.
[From this point,] freedom doesn’t ignore spiritual life, morality, ethics, government, etc. Because in this discrimination you have to find the liberty. How? Digest the morality and the constitutions and ethics in your everyday life, through and through.
Because morality and you are always working, just like forward and backward steps. You cannot ignore [it]. Like a mountain and you. Until mountain’s life becomes one with you, you should digest the mountain’s life. And then, your life is the mountain.
So, that’s why here it says, “As soon as there is affirmation and denial, you lose your mind in confusion. If you don’t go into grades and stages, then there is no seeking.”
41:34
But say, is letting go right, or is holding fast right? At this point, if you have any trace of an interpretative route, you are still stuck in verbal explanations.
So finally, what you have to do is accept the constitution by digesting [it] everyday. Digesting the constitution in your life means practice it, until it [melts into] your life.
So, from this point, you should “hold it fast.” Hold fast the constitution, morality, ethics, or spiritual life. But next moment, you have to digest them perfectly; that means “letting go.” Because if you digest morality, morality is not there. If you digest mountain’s life completely… well, mountain’s life helps you very much, because if you look at your life, it is mountain’s life. So there is no trace of the mountain’s life particularly; that is called “letting go.” But on the other hand, mountain’s life and your life is separated, so you have to “hold fast,” anyway not running right in appropriate way. This is everyday life. We have to digest it; completely beyond good or bad, right or wrong, or hard or not hard. Every day, we have to climb the mountain.
So, what should I do? Should I be letting go always? No, it’s not right. Should I always be holding fast? It’s not always right. So, letting go, right, and holding fast, right. We need both.
How?
Just this is it. That’s all.
The last word of gassho, last word of climbing the mountain. What is the last word of the climbing the mountain? Completely beyond a matter of discussion.
“At this point, if you have any trace of an interpretative route” – if there is even slightly an interpretative route – “you are still stuck in verbal explanation.” It is true, it is true. That’s why in the picture of your world fabricated by your head, always there is suffering. “Should I go this way or that way?” Always suffering.
But we should accept this suffering, this… wobbling. We should accept the flashing light; always “this is right,” “this is wrong.”
[…] Everyday life is going from moment to moment. It’s quick. So every day, you have to arrive, from moment to moment.
44:56
If you are still involved with devices and objects, then all of this is haunting the fields and forests.
In Japanese we say [“e sō fu boku”]. E means “depend on.” Sō means “grasses.” “Depends on the grasses.” […] Fu means “to attach,” boku means “trees.” “Depend on the grasses, attaching to the trees.” That is a Buddhist technical term we say.
According to the sense of karmic theory, people in India believed after human death [the] soul is haunting somewhere – for at least 49 days, you are haunting. And then during those 49 days, there is nothing to depend on, that’s why those souls are depending on the grasses and the trees, by the side of the road, or the mountains, wherever you may go. Or sometimes dew drops; sometimes a speck of dust on the leaves or the grasses.
That is called e sō fu boku; here it says “haunting the fields and forests.” It means a kind of ghost, haunting. “Haunting,” I don’t know… In other words, in the human world, there is always something. Even though you cannot see it, there is always something.
So, in a Zen monastery, I tell you very often, the toilet is a very important place for practice with silence. Very silent, and concentrating on purifying your body, becoming one with the whole world. Because when you go to the toilet, very naturally you become alone. No one interrupts you. Don’t you think so?
Well, when I was in the army, I was always running into the toilet in order to read something. Because I had kind of the inspiration of an examination or something, so immediately I would run to the toilet and sit down there and read, for five minutes or ten minutes. When I was sixteen years old, my head worked very quick! [He laughs.] Nothing else, I sit down there and read, and in ten minutes, I memorize.
So, the toilet is a very individual, peaceful world. [He laughs.]
Well, that is a joke, anyway. [Laughter.]
But anyway, the toilet is one important place for silent practice. Toilet, and zendo, and bath room… bath room is bathing. Because pretty easily you feel relaxed; if you feel relaxed, very naturally words are coming up, and your behavior becomes a little bit rough. So we naturally keep silent, and moving toward the center.
Moving toward the center is very important; so-called, what would you say… centripetal force? That’s pretty important. When you walk wherever… try it, okay? After this, when you go back: just walk on the street, and you try to come back to the center, and walk steadily. At that time, you feel a certain weight. That is the weight of the depth of your life. When you come back to the center, the whole picture of your life becomes pretty stable, because centripetal force makes a kind of weight of the depth of your personality. Simultaneously, centripetal force creates… a central force. [He chuckles.] So very naturally people are impressed by you. Don’t you think so? Yes, [it does].
So, coming back to the center is very important for us. But in everyday life we are always going out. But when you have a very strong [central force], very naturally you have this [centripetal] force, but sometimes people are completely going out, forgetting about coming back to the center. Alright?
So, more or less, we have the power or capability to come back to the center, even though you try to go out. Because you cannot always [be] going out. Very naturally, if you are continually going out, you exhaust [yourself]. When you exhaust [yourself], that is the signal [to come] back to the center.
51:20
So, anyway, “… all of this is haunting the fields and forests…”
Even if you arrive immediately at the point of solitary liberation, you haven’t avoided looking back to the village gate from ten thousand miles away.
“Even if you arrive immediately at the point of solitary liberation” means oneness of the mountain and you who are climbing the mountain – you say, “I get it!” You get exactly a feeling of oneness. But at that time, it is already something you can see objectively, so that oneness is not real oneness. That oneness is perception of the oneness, not the last word of the oneness. The last word of the oneness is constantly you must be alive right in the middle of oneness. Constantly.
So that’s why if you think it, that is you immediately create a huge gap, just like [between] heaven and earth. That’s why here it says, “Even if you arrive immediately at the point of solitary liberation, you haven’t avoided looking back to the village gate from ten thousand miles away.” Anyway, you are just floating around trees and grasses. It’s a [ghost story].
The other day I went to Milwaukee, and one of the Tibetan Buddhist groups taught me a very interesting… I don’t want to tell this story because it’s a little bit… I’m hesitating. [He laughs a little.] But anyway, whatever [this person] does, he always is always very strongly imaginative about Avalokiteshvara, [the bodhisattva of] compassion. He tries to create the energy of Avalokiteshvara, so-called compassion, whatever he does. Particularly when he has excitement: right in the middle of excitement, he tries to create energy of Avalokiteshvara’s compassion. And then he feels pretty good! So he said, “Is that right?” I said, “Yes, or no.”
Well, in a sense it’s pretty good, but in a sense it’s nothing but a ghost. Depending on the trees and grasses. Depending on the imagination of Avalokiteshvara, and “haunting” the excitement, spiritual fascination. If you are really stuck even a moment there, you just look at that experience. It’s not the last word of peace. Peace and harmony is not something coming from outside, but from you. Not from you… in you. You are peace. You must be peace itself.
So even though you constantly practice like this, and even though you feel good because you can get the energy of compassion, or you can get the energy of your life, it is still [an imaginary] world. Because it is nothing to do with real peace of you. Because you are still swayed away by imagination of energy, or spiritual fascination, or excitement… many things. Feeling good or not feeling bad, always. But real peace is you must be the last word of your being, exactly.
So that’s why here it says like this:
Can you reach it? If you can’t, just comprehend this perfectly obvious public case. To test I am citing it: look!
56:05
In this koan, the important point is what the last word is. The last word is, just this is it. And also, the last word is, what is it?
What is it, the last word, or just this is it. Those expressions are nothing but the process of practice. Full aliveness of your life: in gassho, in zazen, in walking, in cooking, in reading, studying. It’s a simple practice… but it’s not so easy. But we have to do it, we have to practice this.
So, regardless of whether you are conscious of it or not, if you climb the mountain, you are one with the mountain, whether you try or you don’t try – because you do your best to climb the mountain.
But how do you do your best to climb the mountain? For what? To make money? To gain fame? There are lots of destinations. By the destination, […] the minimum of doing your best [changes]; the value of doing your best really changes.
Well, this is another big topic we have to think about. So I don’t want to talk [about it now].
Do you have any questions?
58:05
Question: Hojo-san, does consciousness have any place in [just doing ones best]? Or is it the… I guess I’m trying to think about something I heard discussion on called feedback in cybernetics: information back to yourself. What about checking oneself? How do we know if we slip off, or… It seems like from this koan, that to check is already to put a big distance. Do you understand what I’m trying to ask?
Katagiri Roshi: I don’t know if check is the appropriate term, but anyway, when you check, you just check, with your wholeheartedness. That’s very important. Don’t bring in anything else. When you have to check, just check, with wholeheartedness.
Questioner: [unintelligible]
Katagiri Roshi: Zazen, […]
Questioner: How wholehearted are we, is that what you’d say?
Katagiri Roshi: [With all your might,] with your whole capability. Whatever you think, wholeheartedness is wholeheartedness.
Well, we are always thinking… not thinking in a pure sense, so-called checking. When you check something, always we think something else, more than checking. So, checking is not pure activity.
For instance, when you are eating a meal, you don’t eat a meal in a pure sense. You always are thinking, or reading a magazine… or chatting with each other. [He laughs.] So, when you eat the meal, just do your best. Eat the meal with wholeheartedness.
Wholeheartedness means true heart. It means do something in a pure sense. That is undefiled practice.
Because the nature of consciousness is nothing but energy, anyway. So, when you deal with consciousness in a pure sense, consciousness becomes just great energy. In other words, you can return to the center of the consciousness. To deal with consciousness with wholeheartedness means you can return to the center of the consciousness. Okay? And then that is really energy supporting you, helping you.
For instance, when you do zazen… breathing. With your consciousness you check your breathing. Well, your consciousness should work in a pure sense with your breath. So, your breath is your consciousness. But when you return to the center of your consciousness, that is really energy helping your breath. So breath very naturally supports your zazen, helps your zazen.
Question: Would you answer the same way, Hojo-san, with self-preservation?
Katagiri Roshi: Hmm?
Questioner: Would you say the same thing about self-preservation as well? […] The thought about taking care of ourselves. That thought comes up a lot, versus merging.
Katagiri Roshi: Yes, but not only the self-preservation. If you realize self-preservation, that is coming back to the center. [Isn’t it]?
Questioner: Yeah.
Katagiri Roshi: But on the other hand, you have to go out. So, no self-preservation.
At that time, self-preservation is really helpful for you. But if you always attach to self-preservation only, that is egoistic.
Because always light and darkness, and just like forward and backward steps. We have [to] return to the center; simultaneously we have energy to [go] up. So, two things simultaneously working.
1:03:06
Question: I have a question. What you said about oneness… Well, for example, you and mountain, and I and mountain. And if I said, “I am becoming one with the mountain,” even though I am not a professional mountain climber, does it mean that my oneness and professional mountain climber’s oneness with the mountain is the same?
Katagiri Roshi: […] It’s the same. Oneness is oneness. [For everything.]
Questioner: But, it seems to me there is different knowledge about the mountain itself.
Katagiri Roshi: Yes, very naturally there is “grade and stages,” and an older mountain, a little mountain… quite different.
Questioner: But still, it’s in that state that the oneness […]
Katagiri Roshi: Yes, whoever you are, whether you are expert or professional or not professional, when you climb the mountain [and] experience oneness, that oneness is oneness, exactly the same. But still, there is a difference, because there are stages and grades, and the ages, and careers, and many things.
Even though a first grade child experiences enlightenment, that enlightenment [is] enlightenment. Don’t you think so?
[A poppy seed] is a being. A Himalayan mountain is also being, isn’t it? But poppy seed is [just] poppy seed.
So finally, what should we do? So, we have to just climb the mountain, with wholeheartedness.
1:04:57
Question: Hojo-san, what is the literal translation of dōshō dōshi?
Katagiri Roshi: Literally dō of dōshō is “the same.” Shō of dōshō is “birth,” or “life.” So “the same birth,” or “the same life.” Dō of dōshi is “the same,” shi is “death.” “The same death.” “The same life, the same death.”
That is oneness, between the mountains and you. And zazen and you, gassho and you.
So, you can be in the same life of gassho, and in the same death as your gassho. That is called oneness.
1:06:00
Question: Hojo-san, if only “this is it,” or “what is it,” if only that exists continually and forever, then [what is] enlightenment?
Katagiri Roshi: Well, it is not something which exists forever [as] you think…
[Tape change.]
… [that is] already something running through our head. So, it is always conceptualized.
What is it is actually nothing to hold on [to]. Nothing.
It’s pretty hard to say through words. All we can say is how to be there. How to be there, how to handle you, how to handle with us, there. We can only tell you a way to be present or to learn what it is. But, if you try to say it, at that time, it becomes a blur. So that’s why, “What is it?”
But on the other hand, it is not a blur, because you can know a way how to be present. Through the way how to be present, we can know. We can know who we are, what it is. So at that time, just this is it.
Questioner: But, still we have a longing.
Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, longing is already that we are always seeing something in terms of pros and cons, success and failure.
Questioner: So, before longing is enlightenment?
Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, before longing. Completely before longing or after longing, it’s truth, enlightenment. So-called energy. I use “energy” or “universal life.”
You know, we have already mind and vijñāna, consciousness. That is already thinking something. And when you are born, you already have mind.
“You have a mind” means you have already been born in this world with all sentient beings; in other words, with myriad conditions. And also, when you are born with myriad conditions, conditions become your object of consciousness. In order to make the consciousness operate or work or survive, consciousness acts on object. So, very naturally, there is separation there.
But basically, in the source of the consciousness, consciousness works in a very simple way. A very simple way; just like the trees, birds, et cetera. Very simple. That’s why nature is beautiful. You know?
But our consciousness is a little bit slipping off. [He laughs.] “Slip off” means that we want to satisfy, we want to “fill up” satisfaction of our desire in many ways, under all circumstances, always. Not seeing our object [simply]. If you see something, then next moment there is a desire which compels you to fill up [with] the satisfaction, in many ways.
That is called life and death. And that is called seizon kyōsō (生存競争), [which] means… what can I say?
Someone: “Competing for life?”
Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, competing. Trying to make a life, make a living. I want to make a living, always. [He laughs.]
So, in terms of making a life, that is really filling the satisfaction of your life. But at that time, death is completely omitted. Okay? [He laughs.] Because I want to make a living.
So [for] a certain period of time we are always looking at [it], but we don’t see the death. In other words, we don’t see the world after death – because we don’t want to see it. All that we want to see is the world which lasts for a certain period of time: from your birth [to your] death. Fifty years, sixty years… thirty years…
During this period of time, we always have strong desires to fill up our satisfaction. In many ways, under all circumstances, consciously and unconsciously, it comes up. “To fill up your satisfaction” means you are not satisfied. Then, reality is denied. Do you understand? You [aren’t satisfied], that’s why you want to know. You are “longing for”… [he laughs]. In a pure sense, we are always longing. That means already your reality is denied, [negating the] present. Do you understand that?
Questioner: So, to stop our longing…
Katagiri Roshi: No, no, you cannot stop longing, anyway.
Questioner: Okay… [They laugh.] That’s a longing, too.
Katagiri Roshi: You should know the structure of the longing. We always depend on the longing, because that is always giving some information to you: about the truth, about something. That’s why you always accept the longing in terms of it’s affirmative aspect. But you should know the negative aspect. [He laughs.] But we don’t see it. Don’t you think so?
If you have a desire to seek for the truth, you always feel good, because you can always get something. But […] I don’t think so.
Questioner: No, I know the negative part.
Katagiri Roshi: Sure! You have to know the negative aspect. Because you are not satisfied. That’s why you want to fill up satisfaction. That means you “slip out,” you “run out” from the present. That is called “filling up the satisfaction.” [He chuckles.]
The consciousness is working in a simple way, just a simple way. But immediately you have a desire, trying to fill up your satisfaction, that [negation] of the present. That’s why you slip out from the present. That is called samsara, the samsaric [world].
Questioner: How long is it possible to stay present?
Katagiri Roshi: That’s why we have to come back to the center. Please come back. We always slip out.
Questioner: Is it possible not to?
Katagiri Roshi: Well, more or less, possible. [But] even though you say, “Oh, I am not,” it’s already slipping up. [Laughter.]
Someone: But Hojo-san…
Katagiri Roshi: So that’s why finally I say, “Don’t think it.” But if I say so, you say, “I don’t think in that way.” But it’s already slipping up, because you think it.
Questioner: Not all the time…
Katagiri Roshi: As simple as you can, you should think it, [in a] simple way. Just think; [in a] simple way.
Because thinking is also nothing but energy. Without thinking you cannot survive in this world. So thinking is very important.
But still the problem is there is something extra, beyond simple thinking. If you think, that’s enough. But if you think something, then we create something: our own world. That is, if you think of this tape recorder: “Oh, wonderful” – that’s enough. But next moment, “What’s that?” “What’s that tape recorder?” “What company made this?” Next moment, “Oh, I would like to have it.” [He laughs.] Always going on and on, constantly.
But the first motivation, when you see this tape recorder, is simple, very simple. Just like a mirror and tape recorder. Don’t you think so?
Questioner: Yes.
Katagiri Roshi: And then, just sit.
Bodhisattvas attain enlightenment, act on, just like this. But usually we don’t.
But [us not] doing it that way is not something bad. If you know [it], that is a very good sign, because you realize how much you have slipped out of the present in order to fill up the satisfaction. Then very naturally you can come back to the center. So that is everyday life practice. That is our practice on an everyday basis.
But in the story, it’s simple. Just think simply. And we see another desire, slipping out of the present: why don’t you stop it? That story is simple. And just walk simply.
But we cannot do it. And then, how can we do it? This is our practice on an everyday basis.
You cannot say “I cannot do it,” or “I can do it.” No. Every day you have to do it.
So, Dōgen Zenji says, that’s why you have to raise the hundred thousand million bodhi-mind[s]. Bodhi-mind means, anyway, come back to the center. Come back to the center; this is the direction you have to aim at. You have to come back.
How much? How often? One myriad, a hundred myriad, thousand, billion times. Don’t you think so? Every day consists of four billion moments. Then you have to raise the bodhi-mind four billion times. That is our practice.
At that time, it is called, “just this is it.” Or, “what is it?”
When you come back like this, then you are called a bodhisattva. It’s really a bodhisattva.
But whatever you think, human life, if you can aim at that destination, come back to the center, that destination, that is called vow. For the long run, you have to aim at that destination.
The destination is not far from you; it’s here. That is called vow; we say vow.
But this must last for a long time. Not [only] your lifetime; life after life. That’s why it is called “long-cherished.” You know? “Long-cherished aspiration,” which is called vow.
This is a very simple, quiet practice. So-called “plant the root of the life” – virtuous quality.