Essays in Zen Buddhism · 36 of 66

Satori: The Revelation of a New Truth, Part 2

The coming of Bodhi-Dharma (Bodai-daruma in Japanese, P‘u-ti Ta-mo in Chinese) to China early in the sixth century was simply to introduce this satori element into the body of Buddhism whose advocates were then so engrossed in subtleties of philosophical discussion or in the mere literary observance of rituals and disciplinary rules. By the “absolute transmission of the spiritual seal” which was claimed by the first patriarch, is meant the opening of satori, obtaining an eye to see into the spirit of the Buddhist teaching. The sixth patriarch, Yeno (Hui-nêng), was distinguished because of his upholding the satori aspect of dhyana against the mere mental tranquillisation of the Northern School of Zen under the leadership of Jinshu (Shên-hsiu). Baso (Ma-tsu), Obaku (Huan-po), Rinzai (Lin-chi), and all the other stars illuminating the early days of Zen in the T‘ang dynasty were advocates of satori. Their life-activities were unceasingly directed towards the advancement of this; and as one can readily recognise, they so differed from those merely absorbed in contemplation or the practising of dhyana so called. They were strongly against quietism, declaring its adherents to be purblind and living in the cave of darkness. Before we go on, it is advisable, therefore, to have this point clearly understood so that we leave no doubt as to the ultimate purport of Zen, which is by no means wasting one’s life away in a trance-inducing practise, but consists in seeing into the life of one’s being or opening an eye of satori.

There is in Japan a book going under the title of Six Essays by Shoshitsu (that is, by Bodhi-Dharma, the first patriarch of Zen); the book contains no doubt some of the sayings of Dharma, but most of the essays are not his; they were probably composed during the T‘ang dynasty when Zen Buddhism began to make its influence more generally felt among the Chinese Buddhists. The spirit however pervading the book is in perfect accord with the principle of Zen. One of the essays entitled “Kechimyakuron,” or “Treatise on the Lineage of Faith,” discusses the question of Chien-hsing 見性 or satori, which, according to the author constitutes the essence of Zen Buddhism. The following passages are extracts.

“If you wish to seek the Buddha, you ought to see into your own Nature (hsing); for this Nature is the Buddha himself. If you have not seen into your own Nature, what is the use of thinking of the Buddha, reciting the Sutras, observing a fast, or keeping the precepts? By thinking of the Buddha, your cause [i.e., meritorious deed] may bear fruit; by reciting the Sutras your intelligence may grow brighter; by keeping the precepts you may be born in the heavens; by practising charity you may be rewarded abundantly; but as to seeking the Buddha, you are far away from him. If your Self is not yet clearly comprehended, you ought to see a wise teacher and get a thorough understanding as to the root of birth-and-death. One who has not seen into one’s own Nature, is not to be called a wise teacher.

“When this [seeing into one’s own Nature] is not attained, one cannot escape from the transmigration of birth-and-death, however well one may be versed in the study of the sacred scriptures in twelve divisions. No time will ever come to one to get out of the sufferings of the triple world. Anciently there was a Bhikshu Zensho (Shan-hsing) who was capable of reciting all the twelve divisions of scriptures, yet he could not save himself from transmigration, because he had no insight into his own Nature. If this was the case even with Zensho, how about those moderners who being able to discourse only on a few Sutras and Śastras regard themselves as exponents of Buddhism? They are truly simple-minded ones. When Mind is not understood, it is absolutely of no avail to recite and discourse on idle literature. If you want to seek the Buddha, you ought to see into your own Nature, which is the Buddha himself. The Buddha is a free man—a man who neither works nor achieves. If, instead of seeing into your own Nature, you turn away and seek the Buddha in external things, you will never get at him.

“The Buddha is your own Mind, make no mistake to bow [to external objects]. ‘Buddha’ is a Western word, and in this country it means ‘enlightened nature’; and by ‘enlightened’ is meant ‘spiritually enlightened.’ It is one’s own spiritual Nature in enlightenment that responds to the external world, comes in contact with objects, raises the eyebrows, winks the eyelids, and moves the hands and legs. This Nature is the Mind, and the Mind is the Buddha, and the Buddha is the Way, and the Way is Zen. This simple word, Zen, is beyond the comprehension both of the wise and the ignorant. To see directly into one’s original Nature, this is Zen. Even if you are well learned in hundreds of the Sutras and Śastras, you still remain an ignoramus in Buddhism when you have not yet seen into your original Nature. Buddhism is not there [in mere learning]. The highest truth is unfathomably deep, is not an object of talk or discussion, and even the canonical texts have no way to bring it within our reach. Let us once see into our own original Nature and we have the truth even when we are quite illiterate, not knowing a word....

“Those who have not seen into their own Nature, may read the Sutras, think of the Buddha, study long, work hard, practise religion throughout the six periods of the day, sit for a long time and never lie down for sleep, and may be wide in learning and well-informed in all things; and they may believe that all this is Buddhism. All the Buddhas in successive ages only talk of seeing into one’s Nature. All things are impermanent; until you get an insight into your Nature, do not say, ‘I have perfect knowledge.’ Such is really committing a very grave crime. Ānanda, one of the ten great disciples of the Buddha, was known for his wide information, but did not have any insight into Buddhahood, because he was so bent on gaining information only....”

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The sixth patriarch, Hui-nêng (Yeno), insists on this in a most unmistakable way when he answers the question: “As to your commission from the fifth patriarch of Huang-mei, how do you direct and instruct others in it?” The answer was: “No direction, no instruction there is; we speak only of seeing into one’s Nature and not of practising dhyana and seeking deliverance thereby.” Elsewhere they are designated as the “confused” and “not worth consulting with,” they that are empty-minded and sit quietly having no thoughts whatever; whereas “even ignorant ones, if they all of a sudden realise the truth and open their mental eyes, are after all wise men and may attain even to Buddhahood.” Again when the patriarch was told of the method of instruction adopted by the masters of the Northern School of Zen, which consisted in stopping all mental activities, quietly absorbed in contemplation, and in sitting cross-legged for the longest while at a stretch, he declared such practises to be abnormal and not at all to the point, being far from the truth of Zen, and added this stanza which was quoted elsewhere:

“While living one sits up and lies not, When dead, one lies and sits not; A set of ill-smelling skeleton! What is the use of toiling and moiling so?”

When at Demboin, Baso used to sit cross-legged all day and meditating. His master, Nangaku Yejo (Nan-yüeh Huai-jang, 677–744), saw him and asked,

“What seekest thou here thus sitting cross-legged?”

“My desire is to become a Buddha.”

Thereupon, the master took up a piece of brick and began to polish it hard on the stone nearby.

“What workest thou on so, my master?” asked Baso.

“I am trying to turn this into a mirror.”

“No amount of polishing will make a mirror of the brick, sir.”

“If so, no amount of sitting cross-legged as thou doest will make of thee a Buddha,” said the master

“What shall I have to do then?”

“It is like driving a cart; when it moveth not, wilt thou whip the cart or the ox?”

Baso made no answer.

The master continued: “Wilt thou practice this sitting cross-legged in order to attain dhyana or to attain Buddhahood? If it is dhyana, dhyana does not consist in sitting or lying; if it is Buddhahood, the Buddha has no fixed forms. As he has no abiding place anywhere, no one can take hold of him, nor can he be let go. If thou seekest Buddhahood by thus sitting cross-legged, thou murderest him. So long as thou freest thyself not from sitting so, thou never comest to the truth.”

These are all plain statements, and no doubts are left as to the ultimate end of Zen, which is not sinking oneself into a state of torpidity by sitting quietly after the fashion of a Hindu saint and trying to exclude all the mental ripplings that seem to come up from nowhere and after a while pass away—where nobody knows. These preliminary remarks will help the reader carefully to consider the following “Questions and Answers” (known as Mondo in Japanese); for they will illustrate my thesis that Zen aims at the opening of satori, or at acquiring a new point of view as regards life and the universe. The Zen masters, as we see below, are always found trying to avail themselves of every apparently trivial incident of life in order to make the disciples’ minds flow into a channel hitherto altogether unperceived. It is like picking a hidden lock, the flood of new experiences gushes forth from the opening. It is again like the clock’s striking the hours; when the appointed time comes it clicks, and the whole percussion of sounds is released. The mind seems to have something of this mechanism; when a certain moment is reached, a hitherto closed screen is lifted, an entirely new vista opens up, and the tone of one’s whole life thereafter changes. This mental clicking or opening is called satori by the Zen masters and is insisted upon as the main object of their discipline.

In this connection the reader will find the following words of Meister Eckhart quite illuminative: “Upon this matter a heathen sage hath a fine saying in speech with another sage: ‘I become aware of something in me which flashes upon my reason. I perceive of it that it is something, but what it is I cannot perceive. Only meseems that, could I conceive it, I should comprehend all truth.’”