Blue Cliff Record Case 52: Chao Chou Lets Asses Cross, Lets Horses Cross – Talk 2
January 22, 1984 Dharma Talk by Dainin Katagiri Roshi
Previous | Next | List | Series: Blue Cliff Record
Transcript
This transcript is in draft stage.
0:00
Let’s read the verse to this case:
He doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous; in that his path is lofty.
Entering the ocean, he must hook a giant tortoise.
His contemporary the Elder of Kuan Hsi is worth a laugh;
Though he knew how to say “Whistling Arrow,” his effort was in vain.( From The Blue Cliff Record, translated by Thomas Cleary & J.C. Cleary.)
0:42
He doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous; in that his path is lofty.
“Solitary and dangerous” means a skillful method of a Zen teacher coming from his own peculiarities, which no one can imitate. So that in this case from this point his skillful method is very solitary; no one can imitate it. On the other hand, “it’s dangerous” means it’s very severe and very sharp; his words, his verbal explanation and his acts are very sharp, piercing people’s heart directly. So from this point it is called “dangerous,” but it’s not the usual meaning of danger.
But in this case Joshu, Chao Cho, doesn’t use such a skillful method. So that’s why first it says, “he doesn’t set up solitary and dangerous in that his path is lofty.”
In the commentary it says,
Hsueh Tou is praising Chao Chou’s usual way of helping people. Chou doesn’t establish mysteries or marvels, and doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous.
Hsueh Tou is the Zen master who composed this verse.
Usually we want very naturally to set up something mysterious and mystical, and, what would you say, very smart and sharp. We want to show ourselves how smart we are, how mysterious our religious life is. So it’s very common. But for this, Joshu Zen master doesn’t show [us] in that way. He just uses regular usual words and the usual attitude. He is “just like a fool, an idiot.”
So that’s why the commentary says, “Chou doesn’t establish mysteries or marvels, and doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous…”
He isn’t like those in various places who say that only breaking up empty space, smashing Mount Sumeru to bits, producing dust on the bottom of the ocean and pounding waves on Mount Sumeru can be called the Path of the Patriarchal Teachers.
That is a very common way of teaching which occurs in the Blue Cliff Record… particularly in the Blue Cliff Record, it’s really fancy words and methods there. But Joshu didn’t, because he became an abbot at 100 years old, and it says he lived to 119. So he was really soft and gentle – but behind the softness and kindness, there is a really lofty personality there, and very sharp, and very instructive.
Thus Hsueh Tou says, “He doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous; in that his path is lofty.” Others may tower up like ten-mile-high walls to display the extraordinary spiritual effects of the Buddha Dharma…
It’s very common. Very “fancy”: in order to show, in order to make the people understand what the spiritual life is. Communicating with divinity or truth, you know? Naturally people use really fancy words; they build big mansions, they build the ten mile high walls. Very fancy.
So that is very common […]
— but though they are solitary and dangerous, lofty and steep, this is not as good as not setting up the solitary and dangerous, and simply acting ordinary, naturally turning smoothly. Chao Chou doesn’t establish anything, yet he is established himself; …
That’s interesting. He doesn’t establish something particular, on purpose, he [is] just being there, present there, but there is something which is being established.
Just like yesterday I told you: just one tree standing straight in the mountains, covered with snow in the sunny days. It doesn’t demonstrate something showy, but just standing. But it’s really marvelous, and very instructive there.
Just like this. That’s why “Chao Chou doesn’t establish anything, yet he is established himself; …”
… he doesn’t make anything high, yet he is high himself. When capacity goes beyond solitary and dangerous, only then do we see profound wonders.
Well, if you see just nature, nature is not fancy. But just to see just full presence of nature as it is – it doesn’t show something lofty, or something particular, but there is something, which is unexplainable, so-called profound subtlety and wondrousness. That’s why you are very impressed by nature and the wilderness, et cetera.
This is the meaning of the first line, “He doesn’t set up the solitary and dangerous; in that his path is lofty.”
The note says:
You must get to this realm before you realize.
Well, you cannot imitate. Only the person who can reach at this spiritual level, he can use like this, but otherwise, no one can imitate.
The words are still in our ears. This goes back to his own provisions.
There are lots of skillful methods: using a stick, using sharp words, [sometimes giving a blow], sometimes screaming, et cetera, in Zen – scaring you. But for Joshu Zen Master, all skillful methods go back to his method; nothing special to use. So “this goes back to his own provisions.”
10:16
Entering the ocean, he must hook a giant tortoise.
The note says,
He cuts off the essential crossing place and doesn’t let profane or holy pass. [Shrimps or clams, snails or oysters aren’t worth asking about.] People of power don’t come by twos and threes.
“He cuts off the essential crossing place…”: That means cutting off the root of delusion, life and death, and the bodhi-mind, or nirvana, enlightenment, et cetera. Well, I will explain later. He cuts off this…
“… and doesn’t let profane or holy pass.” While you call yourself holy or profane, it means you still have a certain bottom, so-called “profane” or “holy”. But Joshu always cut off the root of profane or holy.
“People of power don’t come by twos and threes.” Yesterday I told you, we are always looking around immediately, and checking, and analyzing, synthesizing always. It’s very difficult for us to settle down, to settle yourself in the self, under all circumstances. We are immediately look around. So “people of power don’t come by twos and threes” means looking around. Trying to fill up the satisfaction of human desires, immediately. How to make a living in a better way, in order to get a high position, or whatever kind of a desire you have.
But for Joshu, always he’s aiming at the big tortoise. Even though in the ocean there are big whales, or even though there are huge, you know… crocodiles… [Laughter.] Crocodile doesn’t live in the ocean. [Laughter.] Uh… hippopotamus? [Laughter.] That’s wonderful: in the ocean, a hippopotamus; huge hippopotamus swimming in the ocean. Crocodiles.
But, he never looks around, he never pays attention to them. Just a big, huge, vast tortoise. That is called truth.
14:02
His contemporary the Elder of Kuan Hsi is worth a laugh; …
Hsueh Tou took the Zen Master of Kuan Hsi who was a disciple of Rinzai Zen Master as an example, so here it says, “His contemporary the elder of Kuan Hsi is worth a laugh.” Almost the same koan here. The commentary says:
A monk asked Kuan Hsi, “I’ve long heard of Kuan Hsi (‘Pouring Mountain Stream’)…
That’s the meaning of Kuan Hsi: “Pouring Mountain Stream.” So,
I’ve long heard of Kuan Hsi (‘Pouring Mountain Stream’). Now that I’ve come here I only see a hemp-soaking pool.
A hemp-soaking pool is a very small pool, with a little amount of water which is just good enough to soak the very thin hemp. Do you understand? [He chuckles.] That is, here it says, “I only see a hemp-soaking pool.” But according to rumor, or according to his imagination, “the pouring mountain stream,” he imagined how big it is. “But now that I’ve come here I only see a hemp-soaking pool.”
Hsi said, “You just see the hemp-soaking pool; you don’t see the pouring mountain stream.” The monk said, “What is the pouring mountain stream?” Hsi said, “Swift as a whistling arrow.”
It’s very [quick]. [He makes a shooting sound.] “Zoop!” You know; a very quick stream.
So that is the same story that Kuan Hsi has, but his answer is quite different from Joshu. Joshu said, “Let the asses cross, let the horses cross.” That means everyday life. You know, everyday life, and whatever happens, he just lets all things cross. But Kuan Hsi says, “swift as a whistling arrow.” Very sharp. That is Kuan Hsi himself; you have to see Kuan Hsi like this. Kuan Hsi means the buddha-nature. What is a buddha? You see just a little pool, but you have to see the big stream, so-called Buddha. What is the Buddha? According to him, Buddha is “swift as a whistling arrow.” Very quick. Very sharp.
That is this [line], “His contemporary the Elder of Kuan Hsi is worth a laugh.” So his answer is worthy of laughter.
Though he knew how to say “Whistling Arrow,” his effort was in vain.
Well, I don’t mean Kuan Hsi was put down by Hsueh Tou, but anyway there are various ways of teaching and guiding people. So we accept any kind of way of teaching and guiding people, but we have to know they are different.
Well, which is better, which is good – it depends on the individual. If your eyes open, you can see something profound. If you don’t, you cannot see it, you just see something fancy. But if you keep your eyes open, if you open your heart, and have good ears and good eyes, you can see something really profound. It is very quiet, not showy. But it’s really deep.
19:20
I want to tell you two examples. One happened in ancient times in the history of Buddhism. The second one is another case, which we can see in the contemporary world.
So the first one, I want to tell you the example of Seppō Zen Master in Zen history. Seppō Zen Master (Xuefeng Yicun, 雪峰义存, 822–908) was the fourth generation from the Sekitō Zen Master (Shítóu Xīqiān, 石頭希遷, 700–790). Both were very famous Zen teachers in history.
One day he took a trip with Gānto Zen Master (Yantou Quanhuo, 巖頭全豁, 828–887). Gānto Zen Master was also a disciple of Tokusan Zen Master (Deshan Xuanjian, 德山宣鑒, 780-865). Ganto and Seppō are in the relation of the dharma brothers, but Seppō was 60 years younger than Gānto. But Gānto was a great Zen teacher in those days.
So one day Seppō took a trip with him, and they couldn’t travel at all because they had a big snowstorm. So they stayed at a temple for a couple of days. And Gānto always slept, without doing anything. But Seppō always did sitting zazen every day. Just like Bodhidharma, always sitting every day. But Gānto didn’t; Gānto always slept in a bed. In his heart, Seppō was not comfortable at this, because he was always seeking for something. So, one day he woke him up: “Gānto, please wake up. I don’t feel comfortable. My heart is not peaceful, so please get up, please get up.” And then Gānto said, “What’s happened? Never mind, go to sleep!” [Laughter.] But [Seppō] said, “No I can’t go to sleep. So wake up, wake up! My heart is not comfortable, so wake up!” So [Gānto] said finally, “I expected you to be a great Zen teacher guiding all sentient beings in the future. But what are you talking about? The reality you are talking would be completely reversed. Don’t say something stupid. So go to sleep!” [He laughs.]
And then nevertheless Seppō Zen Master was not comfortable, so he continued to wake him up. Finally [Gānto] said, “Well, if so, you should tell me one by one what [experiences] you have had through Zen practice. And then I will check it, and if it is necessary I will give it back to you, but if it is not necessary I will take away from you.” So Seppō Zen Master started to talk about his career, what he has experienced.
The first he said [was], “When I listened to a lecture [on] ‘form is emptiness’ given by the famous Zen Master Kanshi (Tongan Guanzhi, 同安觀志), at that time I was very impressed by this, so I thought I had experience of enlightenment.” So Gānto says, “That happened almost 30 years ago. It’s too late!” [He laughs.] “What are you talking about? You are talking about 30 years ago? It’s not necessary.” So it’s stupid. Anyway, Gānto took it away took it away from Seppō.
Then next, Seppō says, “When I was at the Tōzan’s Zen temple (Dongshan Liangjie, 洞山良价, 807–869), I had a chance to listen to the poem composed by Tōzan Zen master when he had attained enlightenment.” That poem was pretty famous. “He said, ‘You shouldn’t search for it through others…’” – “others” means outside. “‘If you do, the truth will become more remote from you. But when alone I proceed through myself, everywhere I go I meet him. Now he is not other than myself, yet I am not he. Only if you understand this will you identify with the tathātā.’” Tathātā means the truth.
So you shouldn’t search for it through others; you never find something true from outside. But on the other hand you cannot find it inside opposed to outside. Because the truth is always omnipresent. So not inside, not outside. Not somewhere. Omnipresent. If you open your eyes, it’s there. If you don’t, no, it’s not there. If you become Buddha, you can accept all things as a buddha. But if you don’t see everything as a buddha you cannot accept everything as a buddha.
So that’s why he said, “You shouldn’t search for it through others. If you do, the truth will become more remote from you.” It’s very natural, because [if you try to seek the truth in a dualistic way], you cannot get it.
“But when alone I proceed through myself”: “alone” means I just stand up just like a tree on the mountain, covered with snow, and the severe weather. Just stand up straight there. That [is the meaning of] alone. “When alone I proceed through myself” – well, who stands up? The tree itself. At that time, the tree stands up? No, the tree stands up with the weather, and mountains, and snow. But snow, weather, sky, clouds are not different from the tree who stands up straight there. Exactly the same. So, “when alone I proceed through myself, everywhere I go I meet him.” Very naturally, there is the truth. There is a big tortoise.
[…] A tree just standing up straight in the mountain is a rhythm of universal life. So, it’s me. It’s tree. Truth is tree. Tree is a truth, truth is a tree.
So “everywhere I go I meet him…” “Now he is not other than myself, but he is completely with me, yet I am not he.” But when I analyze, when I think of it, he is not me, because he doesn’t have particularly his own form or color or smell. It is just something omnipresent. But it’s there. That’s why here it says, “yet I am not he.” But he is with me. Only not with me, he is exactly me.
“Only if you understand this will you identify with tathātā.” Tathātā, that is truth. That is exactly truth.
So Seppō Zen Master was very impressed by this poem, so he said [it] to Gānto like this.
And then Gānto said, “Oh, it is not your story, it is others’ story. Depending on the others’ poem, enlightenment. It’s not yours.” So Gānto again took away his experience of enlightenment.
Next Seppō said, “Then finally I went to see Tokusan Zen Master” – who was Seppō’s teacher and also Gānto’s teacher – “and practiced over there for many years. And I asked Tokusan Zen Master, ‘Can I have a chance to attain enlightenment, even [someone] like me?’ So Tokusan Zen Master immediately took a stick and gave a big blow, several times. And then Seppō said, “I feel good!” [Laughter.] I feel good, just like water running away from a bottomless bucket. You know, just boom, like this.” So he felt good.
And then Gānto says… [he chuckles], “Whatever it is you experience, it is a delusion if it is coming through six senses.” It’s a delusion. Completely he took away that enlightenment too.
So Seppō was really wanting to cry. He didn’t know what to do.
Well, I understand Seppō’s feeling at that time. Completely he was crushed. And then he really, well, kind of a confession, okay? Confession, because he didn’t know. He really believed in his experiences, because they were very important for him. So he said like a confession in front of Gānto, saying, “What shall I do from now on?” He’s kind of crying; his mind is really crying. “So what should I do from now on?”
So Gānto says, “From now on, if you want to guide all sentient beings, if you want to [be a] great teacher for all sentient beings, from now on you should say something from the bottom of your heart.” And immediately Seppō really attained enlightenment.
From your heart. Not something borrowing the words from others. Not something from the human six senses.
So completely, what is enlightenment? What is Buddha? Buddha is something you have to express, you have to say, you have to demonstrate Buddha through your body and mind. So Buddha is not something from a teacher.
That’s interesting. So nothing. Then completely Seppō realized, because Gānto took away all careers which Seppō had had. So he was very impressed this one.
So that is, here the note says,
He cuts off the essential crossing place and doesn’t let profane or holy pass.
Well, whatever [it is]. If you attain enlightenment, if you experience something, if you feel good through the six senses, you really want to say this is holiness, a holy spiritual experience. [But it] is not exactly, because your life is completely tied up with this, so you cannot open yourself, you cannot be free from. The important point is, in spiritual life, you must be free from beginning to end. Whatever happens, you must be [free].
So that’s [why] the note says, “He cuts off the essential crossing place.” Whatever you say – bodhi-mind, nirvana, enlightenment, buddhas – whatever you say, holy or profane – that is nothing but to set up, establish the bottom of the bucket.
That’s why then Joshu Zen Master is always hooking the giant tortoise, without looking around, [among] crocodiles and hippopotamus and big whales and whatever. Never. Just [the big one], huge.
36:16
Another example is pretty contemporary. Maybe this is familiar with your experience.
I am a 40 year old woman who grew up in Chicago and I am now experiencing the peace, beauty, and challenges of our small Wisconsin farm. As a child and a teenager I was a very religious Catholic. I remember going to church when it was deserted and prostrating myself before the altar, hoping to experience the ecstatic union with God that many mystics had described. While I was studying nursing at Loyola University, one day I was in the midst of reading…
Do you know this book… “Tail-hard De-chardin”?
Someone: Teilhard de Chardin.
Katagiri Roshi: Oh. You know that, huh? [Laughter.]
“… [in the midst of] reading that book…”
[Laughter.]
[Tape change.]
… and suddenly […] I experienced an indescribable insight, [which] inevitably led me to shed the [absolutist] dogma of the church. I remember realizing at that moment that I need not fear a hell in some self-conscious afterlife after my death. [The] ephemeral I was already living a life of its own in the countless number of people who have crossed my path, and will be passed on in its bits and pieces long after my death […]
However, Catholicism had permeated so much of my life up to that point, and with its letting go, I was now like a seed cast to the wind. Even after 20 more years of searching, trying to make sense of the universe and feel a sense of inner peace and joy, I still had not found a peace to take root and grow and blossom.
Seven years ago, late at night and alone, I was contemplating the subject of pain and death, and suddenly everything I knew reduced itself to a single minute moving point. I was overcome with a sense of revelation and joy. I tried to write down what was going on inside of me and how it came to be, but there were no words to describe it. It felt like some sort of rebirth. And for three days, everything seemed right, as if the natural order of things revealed itself to me. Tasks I had considered menial and boring suddenly had meaning, and I moved through them with joy and energy with little thought of myself. Everyone I came in contact with seemed important and precious.
I have never in my life experienced anything of that nature. I didn’t know what was happening, nor what to do with it. I wanted to cling to it, hold on. And then, I tried to just let it be, knowing, feeling it would pass. And of course, it did.
But I never forget those three days. I knew that this simple enlightenment from within was […] what I was looking for all these years, and it showed me how much I could be and see. Since then I haven’t again experienced the fullness and intensity of that state, but neither have I feared the thought of my own death again.
In my continuing search for a way to attain that state of being and seeing, I bought a book on Buddhism last year. From there I delved into scholarly pursuit, and after sampling a wide range of Buddhist schools of thought, many frustratingly intricate and esoteric to me, I was struck by the simplicity of Zen. What writers had to say about its practice and effects rang something true within me.
I have just recently begun to sporadically practice zazen in a chair, because my legs refuse to even come close to crossing…
[Laughter.]
… and at times I have little difficulty for about 25 minutes. I have attempted to give the fullness of my attention to my daily tasks, without clinging to wandering thoughts. With not a great deal of success so far.
[He chuckles.]
My husband often has frustrated me with his controlling egoistical and critical manner…
[Laughter.]
… and so I have been trying to look upon him as my teacher, that life has sent me to remind me of my own clinging to a wish for control, to let go of my desire to change him to fit my image of how he should be. This attitude has reduced the number and intensity of my own emotional upsets in dealing with him.
I have not talked about Zen to anyone, nor do I know anyone familiar with it or its practice. I know I need to engage in zazen regularly on a daily basis, but so far I have been inconsistent, unsure of myself and perhaps lacking enough faith to plunge in more wholeheartedly. I have never been to your center, but would like to visit sometime soon.
… et cetera.
Well, this example, what I want to tell you is, she experienced something wonderful through prayer to God. Those experiences were very important for her, but finally, where she should return to? So finally what she has to do is to return to simplicity, simple life. That simplicity is very important for us.
Simplicity is just like Seppō. Gānto took away all his experiences. It doesn’t mean Seppō’s careers were something wrong; that is alright. But it is not real spiritual life, because real spiritual life is to let you be present constantly in peace and harmony without looking around. Well, the experience running through the six senses – feeling good, feeling not good, or just like lightning and thunder – whatever experience – [is] experience which you are taking in the possession of a form. Form is always changing – just like a dance, a form of dance. Experience is just like a dance – so demonstrate it, and disappear next moment.
But still there is a real reality there, from which all forms bloom. That is simplicity. Simplicity is not something particular; simplicity is within an individual – the performer himself or herself.
That’s why Gānto took all his careers, and let him look at the root from which all experience and careers bloom, by which human beings are pretty easy to be stuck and hold on to, cling to. Emphasizing strongly this is a spiritual life, and then you should believe this, you should depend on, like this. Well, that is a part of spiritual life. But real spiritual life is you yourself; real spiritual life is really something directly connected with you as a person, who exists now. You cannot deal with yourself by the teaching, by some wonderful poem composed by somebody. You know?
Even the teaching composed by then taught by the buddhas and patriarchs: it doesn’t help you, actually. It helps you indirectly in many ways, but finally what you have to do is to digest the teaching [within] you. [Why] does your food digest? [You]. Digestion is very important for us. So that’s why Gānto taking away Seppō’s experience means that Gānto wanted to let [Seppō] digest all his experiences, until they become blood and energy, life energy.
If experience becomes completely digested and [becomes] blood and energy, there is no form, no colors. Anyway, just living.
So that’s why Gānto wanted him to digest those experiences. For this, he took away all things. That’s why he said, “If you want to teach the Buddha’s teaching for all sentient beings, you have to show, say and act from the bottom of your heart.” Yours, not others’.
So that is simplicity. It’s really simplicity. Because we have to just stand up. Like a tree on the mountain.
But it’s pretty hard just standing up on the mountain, because around the trees there are severe weather, and snow, and lots of criticism there, and give and take, pros and cons, and war and peace, and justice, and many things around. But accepting all things, nevertheless, the tree is always aiming at the huge tortoise. Without looking around [at the] small stuff and the big stuff – whales, and the hippopotamus, snakes and frogs… anyway the tree never looks around. Just standing up there, in sunny days and severe winter weather. That’s why if you look at it, it’s very beautiful. Very exquisite, which is unexplainable. Because tree is tree, but behind the tree, the whole huge world is alive within the tree.
So that is the simplicity. Simplicity is not [an] egoistic way of life. Simplicity is you must [be] you as you are, simultaneously that way of life is completely backed by the rhythm of universal life. That’s why it is very simple and exquisite, very exquisite. Because that way of life which you do [has] a very precious quality.
Somebody who has eyes can see that, but people who don’t have their own eyes cannot see it; that’s all. But he himself, whatever happens – whoever looks at you, this person is always standing up straight, under all circumstances – without looking around so much, anyway – and dealing with everyday life. That is called simplicity.
So finally she comes back to simplicity. She doesn’t know what simplicity is. She felt a little bit what simplicity was through sitting. It’s really true.
So that’s what I want to tell you. Simplicity is completely no bottom of the bucket. No bottom of personality, no bottom of capability you have. That is simplicity. Very simple. If you’re stupid, you have to take best care of yourself as stupid, anyway. [Laughter.] But if you look around, immediately criticism comes up and you put yourself down by yourself.
So what is Joshu, what is the stone bridge? That stone bridge is Buddha. For Joshu, Chao Chou, Buddha as a stone bridge is not something fancy. You can experience so-called spiritual life – well, that is alright. But it is nothing but the log bridge appearing; next moment it disappears. Then you come back to the daily routine, daily life. In daily life [there are] many beings, many occurrences there, so it’s pretty easy for us to look around. But the important point is wherever you may go, there is always the big tortoise, so-called buddha-nature or truth.
So that is [a] simple way of life. Just standing. Under each circumstance of pain, suffering, gassho, washing your face, we have to just stand up straight, without looking around so much. And that is called simplicity.
And this simplicity is not something you can get in your hand and evaluate and judge it, this simplicity is something you have to raise. You have to raise it thousands, hundred of thousands, millions, myriad times in your daily life. This moment, you have to just raise this simplicity; in the sitting, in the washing your face. Next moment: where is the truth? You don’t know. But “it’s omnipresent” means next moment it’s there. So all you have to do is you have to raise this simplicity of life.
That is called bodhi-mind, the way-seeking mind. If you can raise this bodhi-mind from moment to moment, a hundred times, a thousand times, myriad times, you become a bodhisattva. That is called bodhisattva.
But we don’t see this, because we are always seeking for a certain result of experience.
Result is fine, but result comes later. If you stand up, if you take care of [life] like this, then result comes. But we don’t do it; we always expect result first, before you do. [He chuckles.] That’s completely reversed.
59:50
For instance, in Japan, every year, school teachers and company workers have a kind of yearly custom – to have a strike. [Laughter.] To raise the salary wages.
That’s fine! But, I don’t know [about] this one. Of course you cannot ignore how much wages you can get. Well, before you work, you should negotiate with the companies – of course, you have to do. But every year, yearly you have a strike like this, and what is the work? What is the labor? Labor is completely pushed away, and thinking money. You know?
So in order to [get] the money, you work. You are enslaved by money, and then you work. That is the opposite! You have to work. If you have to work, you have to take best care of the work itself, and then salary wages come naturally. But we don’t do it! Reality will be reversed. We always do something like this.
So if you emphasize so much a strike or position of the money, very naturally your life becomes reversed. You don’t see something real – the big tortoise.
Well, the same applies to the United States. But Americans strike very calm and gentle [he laughs], without screaming. Just carrying a [sign] and just walking in front of the department and bus depots… Very quiet. You are very gentlemanly. Japanese strikes are very hostile; fighting always. Screaming. You would be deaf, because it’s so noisy.
In the [Seibu] station, which is a terminal station in Tokyo… I went back last October. And then… you know the former minister Tanaka? He got something, big money; you know that story. So he was in court, and finally the Japanese could see the result, what he had to do. And then next, the government always tried to [unintelligible], always emphasized he must be impeached from the cabinet, et cetera. So right in front of the station: big speakers, big speakers. One, two, three cars with two big speakers, talking. It was rush hour time – many people there. I just stood waiting for the bus; I became a deaf. When I came in the bus, my ears kind of, you know, the same problem as being on the plane going down to land? Your ears funny; just like this. So it’s really noisy. This is kind of not a big area; Japan is very crowded, buildings and people. If people talk through the big speakers here, it doesn’t bother you so much, because it’s huge. But Japan is very crowded; tiny, nevertheless [there are many] buildings, people, cars.
Don’t expect Japan [to be as beautiful as] your imagination. [Laughter.] I’m not criticizing Japan, but you should know the real Japan. [Laughter.]
Do you have some questions?
1:05:35
Oh. This morning, before the breakfast, I told you [about] one of the customs in monastery – but not in the monastery, even out of the monastery – that is [a] way of becoming intimate with the teacher and disciple. At New Year, we offer a set of two pieces of mochi, round mochi, on the altar, and perform the three morning services: praying for his health and also his [dharma]. So even if you are not in the monastery, we do always, while his teacher or her teacher is alive. That’s a very good custom for us.
Question: Hojo-san, when you say his dharma, do you mean the teaching, or the …
Katagiri Roshi: Teaching. Lineage.
Questioner: [Unintelligible.]
Katagiri Roshi: Yes, [unintelligible].
Because if you become a priest, the most important priest task is to continue to carry the dharma lineage, without cutting off, without disconnect. That is a main task of a priest’s life. Forever, priest’s task is to try to convey or transmit the dharma lineage. Dharma lineage is to carry the sublimity of existence; emphasizing the sublimity of existence, handed down from Buddha Shakyamuni to Dōgen and to your teachers, et cetera. So we have to carry this. We have to continue and transmit to the next generation. That is the dharma.
So when we perform the services for three days at New Year, praying for that means you pray for the teacher’s health, and also [praying for] transmitting the teacher’s dharma to the next generation is to pray for your health simultaneously. And also to pray for your great inspiration for carrying dharmas to the next generation.
I told you before, if you become a buddha, you can see everything as a buddha. But if you cannot, it is very difficult to see everything [as a] buddha. So that’s why while the teacher is alive, you don’t understand so well what the Buddha taught. Because you’re not mature, so sometimes [you really] complain, very often. In my case, I very often complained, and was upset and criticizing the teacher. But after his death, and simultaneously my life was getting mature, then I understood. At that time it’s too late, because the teacher died. That’s one of the regrets that human beings possess very often.
So when you want to see, at that time, no one [to] see. When you want to practice from your heart, at that time, no opportunity to practice from your heart.
You know, some people say, “when I have time I want to practice.” Or, “when I feel good from zazen and Zen teaching, then I want to practice.” Well, it’s alright if you think so, but it’s pretty difficult to get exactly mature opportunity to let you practice exactly. Let’s read the Record of Things Heard; Dōgen Zenji talks about that point too.
So even if you feel this is not a real opportunity, [still] if the opportunity is here, practically, well, let’s jump in. That’s pretty good for us.
1:11:36
Question: Hojo-san, I read that Joshu Zen Master’s lineage died out only after a couple more people in his lineage. Do you know if that’s right? I think it’s in the back of that book.
Katagiri Roshi: Mm-hmm. Joshu’s lineage is Rinzai line, and Nangaku Ejo (Nanyue Huairang), and you know Baso Zen Master (Mazu Daoyi). So [Baso] Zen Master has many disciples, among them there are three famous Zen Masters. One is Hyakujō [Ekai] (Baizhang Huaihai), who established first the regulation of monastic life in China. And next is Kisu Zen Master (Guizong Zhichang), who flourished [in] the 8th century, who is also pretty famous for his very strict way to teach. And the third one was Nansen Zen Master (Nanquan Puyuan). You know pretty well, Nansen was the Zen teacher who [killed] the cat in order to cut off the delusion of the monks, and thinking of whether the cat has buddha-nature or not. Do you know that? Well, [those] three Zen Masters. And then Joshu Zen Master was a disciple of this Nansen.
So Joshu really practiced very hard, I can imagine, because Nansen had very much his own peculiar way – very peculiar, strict way. So Joshu was very [suffering]. For instance, if you read Mumonkan, Gateless Gate, Number 19, there is a koan [where] Joshu Zen Master asked Nansen about the meaning of the Buddha Way. That means what is the truth, the Buddha Way. And then Nansen says […] everyday mind. So [Joshu] asked what [is] everyday mind, always. So in this koan of the Gateless Gate, you can read what is everyday mind.
So Joshu practiced very hard, thinking about everyday mind, because he became a monk at 60 years old. He cannot have any energy to [go] far away, far out; or he didn’t have any energy to get a certain fantastic religious experience, and thinking something else apart from his life. His life was really rooted in everyday life. So that’s why he anyway asked these kind of questions.
So what is the Way? What is the Buddha’s teaching? What is the truth? Truth is everyday mind. That is a really difficult koan for us. But it’s pretty easy; [a] simple way – but we don’t understand that one.
That’s why Dōgen Zenji also [talked] about everyday mind. So-called, “everyday mind means everyday mind throughout this world and the other world.” “When everyday mind comes, the whole world comes. When everyday mind goes, the whole world goes.” So that means when you die, the whole world dies. When you are born in this world, the whole world becomes born. Just like this. This is everyday mind. That’s quite different from what you have thought, you know? Everyday mind is very calm, smooth stream of life. Not very fancy. Not up and down. Very stable, secure, always.
Under every circumstance. Look at the weather, severe winter. Well, severe winter is severe winter, so according to your emotion, you don’t like it. Well, that’s very common. But on the basis of this emotion, there is a very secure everyday mind. At that time you can accept severe weather as it really is, telling us [a] wonderful world, as a buddha.
But emotions, our human bodies, or our karmic life doesn’t accept. We don’t like it. So very naturally we are tossed away by this karmic life. That is a problem. That’s why we are constantly going away. But […] wherever you may go, […] if there is a very secure and calm stream of life, you can accept severe weather as it is.