Sunday, July 12, 2009

May be

Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

“Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Maybe,” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

“Maybe,” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

My Thoughts: Accept whatever comes into your life, whether you expected or not. Live every moment. Buddha says "Accept the PAIN". Why should one accept the pain? Because you cannot avoid it. The only thing you can avoid is suffering from pain. Do not allow external world's happenings affect you.

The Other Side

One day a young Buddhist on his journey home came to the banks of a wide river. Staring hopelessly at the great obstacle in front of him, he pondered for hours on just how to cross such a wide barrier. Just as he was about to give up his pursuit to continue his journey he saw a great teacher on the other side of the river. The young Buddhist yells over to the teacher, "Oh wise one, can you tell me how to get to the other side of this river"?

The teacher ponders for a moment looks up and down the river and yells back, "My son, you are on the other side".

My Thoughts: According to Buddhism, crossing a river is compared to attaining Nirvana. Nirvana is a state of realizing "I" and attaining a spiritual satisfaction of knowing the SELF. To cross the river, a raft called "Dharma" is used. For a person who had attained Nirvana has no purpose to return back to the other side of the river; i.e., the side which ties you with paternal relations, materialistic world, etc. The wise man was reminding/indicating to the young Buddhist that after attaining Nirvana, returning back to home is unnecessary.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The First Principle

When one goes to Obaku temple in Kyoto he sees carved over the gate the words "The First Principle." The letters are unusually large, and those who appreciate calligraphy always admire them as being a masterpiece. They were drawn by Kosen two hundred years ago.

When the master drew them he did so on paper, from which workmen made the larger carving in wood. As Kosen sketched the letters a bold pupil was with him who had made several gallons of ink for the calligraphy and who never failed to criticize his master's work.

"That is not good," he told Kosen after the first effort.

"How is that one?"

"Poor. Worse than before," pronounced the pupil.

Kosen patiently wrote one sheet after another until eighty-four First Principles had been accumulated, still without the approval of the pupil.

Then, when the young man stepped outside for a few moments, Kosen thought: "Now is my chance to escape his keen eye," and he wrote hurriedly, with a mind free from distraction. "The First Principle."

"A masterpiece," pronounced the pupil.

My Thoughts: When a person is bound towards external world, he will be distracted by various happenings around him which includes criticism. When a person is bound towards his internal world, its his own...so it brings out all his capabilities with his own touch/style.

Great Waves

In the early days of the Meiji era there lived a well-known wrestler called O-nami, Great Waves.

O-nami was immensly strong and knew the art of wresting. In his private bouts he defeated even his teacher, but in public was so bashful that his own pupils threw him.

O-nami felt he should go to a Zen master for help. Hakuju, a wandering teacher, was stopping in a little temple nearby, so O-nami went to see him and told him of his great trouble.

"Great Waves is your name," the teacher advised, "so stay in this temple tonight. Imagine that you are those billows. You are no longer a wrestler who is afraid. You are those huge waves sweeping everything before them, swallowing all in their path. Do this and you will be the greatest wrestler in the land."

The teacher retired. O-nami sat in meditation trying to imagine himself as waves. He thought of many different things. Then gradualy he turned more and more to the feeling of waves. As the night advanced the waves became larger and larger. They swept away the flowers in their vases. Even the Buddha in the shrine was inundated. Before dawn the temple was nothing but the ebb and flow of an immense sea.

In the morning the teacher found O-nami meditating, a faint smile on his face. He patted the wrestler's shoulder. "Now nothing can disturb you," he said. "You are those waves. You will sweep everything before you."

The same day O-nami entered the wrestling contests and won. After that, no one in Japan was able to defeat him.

My Thoughts: The wrestler O-Nami was disturbed by multiple thoughts which had brought him fear of defeat within him which made him to fail in his public bouts. Defeating an opponent requires more inner strength than the strength of body. This can be compared to our normal life. In our life, we need to come across critical situations which requires a lot of internal strength to make it a win-win situation. Only the internal strength make you take the right decision at the right time. Most of them nowadays go against law or dharma when they face critical situations. This is due to the loss of internal strength. At this state FEAR will conquer you. The fear of loosing something will make our mind do unlawful deeds. All negative thoughts will break your inner strength.

Friday, July 10, 2009

The Sound of One Hand

The master of Kennin temple was Mokurai, Silent Thunder. He had a little protégé named Toyo who was only twelve years old. Toyo saw the older disciples visit the master's room each morning and evening to receive instruction in sanzen or personal guidence in which they were given koans to stop mind-wandering.

Toyo wished to do sanzen also.

"Wait a while," said Mokurai. "You are too young."

But the child insisted, so the teacher finally consented.

In the evening little Toyo went at the proper time to the threshold of Mokurai's sanzen room. He struck the gong to announce his presence, bowed respectfully three times outside the door, and went to sit before the master in respectful silence.

"You can hear the sound of two hands when they clap together," said Mokurai. "Now show me the sound of one hand."

Toyo bowed and went to his room to consider this problem. From his window he could hear the music of the geishas. "Ah, I have it!" he proclaimed.

The next evening, when his teacher asked him to illustrate the sound of one hand, Toyo began to play the music of the geishas.

"No, no," said Mokurai. "That will never do. That is not the sound of one hand. You've not got it at all."

Thinking that such music might interrupt, Toyo moved his abode to a quiet place. He meditated again. "What can the sound of one hand be?" He happened to hear some water dripping. "I have it," imagined Toyo.

When he next appeared before his teacher, he imitated dripping water.

"What is that?" asked Mokurai. "That is the sound of dripping water, but not the sound of one hand. Try again."

In vain Toyo meditated to hear the sound of one hand. He heard the sighing of the wind. But the sound was rejected.

He heard the cry of an owl. This was also refused.

The sound of one hand was not the locusts.

For more than ten times Toyo visited Mokurai with different sounds. All were wrong. For almost a year he pondered what the sound of one hand might be.

At last Toyo entered true meditation and transcended all sounds. "I could collect no more," he explained later, "so I reached the soundless sound."

Toyo had realized the sound of one hand.

My Thoughts: You cannot produce sound from one hand. Which means, what is left without sound is silence. The thoughtless mind in called silent mind. The WISDOM (Gnan in Hindi) or TRUTH (Sathya is Hindi)can be realized though the silent mind. Silence is the powerful language though which Wisdom/Truth can be explained/realized. Zen monks insists to make your mind a thoughtless one as through this silence they can teach what zen is, to their disciple. You call a 'sound' when you are able to listen to something. If that is so, if you are able to listen to silence (soundlessness) then you can call the silence as soundless sound. 'Listen to the Silence' is what been thought to Toyo.

A Parable

Buddha told a parable in a sutra:

A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.

Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!

My Thoughts: The traveler must be a zen monk. He wanted to escape from Tiger but not from death. It is his duty to save his own life. But everyone needs to face death if it comes...need not be afraid of it. The man has done all that he can do to escape from Tiger. Now he only needs to enjoy whatever moment he has got.

In life we are always encountered by problems. We need to do all that can be done from end to overcome it and must be ready to face anything after that. "Live Every Moment!"

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Stingy in Teaching

A young physician in Tokyo named Kusuda met a college friend who had been studying Zen. The young doctor asked him what Zen was.

"I cannot tell you what it is," the friend replied, "but one thing is certain. If you understand Zen, you will not be afraid to die."

"That's fine," said Kusuda. "I will try it. Where can I find a teacher?"

"Go to the master Nan-in," the friend told him.

So Kusuda went to call on Nan-in. He carried a dagger nine and a half inches long to determine whether or not the teacher was afraid to die.

When Nan-in saw Kusuda he exclaimed: "Hello, friend. How are you? We haven't seen each other for a long time!"

This perplexed Kusuda, who replied: "We have never met before."

"That's right," answered Nan-in. "I mistook you for another physician who is receiving instruction here."

With such a beginning, Kusuda lost his chance to test the master, so reluctantly he asked if he might receive Zen instruction.

Nan-in said: "Zen is not a difficult task. If you are a physician, treat you patients with kindness. That is Zen."

Kusuda visited Nan-in three times. Each time Nan-in told him the same thing. "A physician should not waste time around here. Go home and take care of you patients."

It was not yet clear to Kusuda how such teaching could remove the fear of death. So on his fourth visit he complained: "My friend told me when one learns Zen one loses the fear of death. Each time I come here all you tell me is to take care of my patients. I know that much. If that is your so-called Zen, I am not going to visit you any more."

Nan-in smiled and patted the doctor. "I have been too strict with you. Let me give you a koan." He presented Kusuda with Joshu's Mu to work over, which is the first mind enlightening problem in the book called The Gateless Gate.

Kusuda pondered this problem of Mu (No-Thing) for two years. At length he thought he had reached certainty of mind. But his teacher commented: "You are not in yet."

Kusuda continued in concentration for another year and a half. His mind became placid. Problems dissolved. No-Thing became the truth. He served his patients well and, without even knowing it, he was free from concern over life and death.

Then when he visited Nan-in, his old teacher just smiled.

My Thoughts: When Kusuda asked about Zen, his friend replied "I cannot tell you what it is". This is right. TRUTH cannot be communicated through language. Language can only communicate thoughts not the true feelings. Zen is a practice of getting relieved from thoughts and understand "MU" ie., to understand the meaning or state of "No-Thing". Zen monks say that everything are made on 'nothing'. The most unrevealed secret in this world is to understand nothing. In order to understand Zen you will need to get rid of thoughts. The funny thing is that you can only explain your thoughts through language. How do you explain 'thoughtlessness' state through your language. There exists such a language which is nothing but 'Silence'. Zen can only be understood through practice. All that Zen master teaches may look funny or very simple until to realize what they ACTUALLY meant. Please read "Just Two Words" to understand what I said so far.

Not Far From Buddhahood

A university student while visiting Gasan asked him: "Have you even read the Christian Bible?"

"No, read it to me," said Gasan.

The student opened the Bible and read from St. Matthew: "And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these...Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself."

Gasan said: "Whoever uttered those words I consider and enlightened man."

The student continued reading: "Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you. For everyone that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh, is shall be opened."

Gasan remarked: "That is excellent. Whoever said that is not far from Buddhahood."

My Thoughts: Initially, before knowing how to seek, we always ask and receive it. The next stage is to seek for it without asking to some one. At one stage we will need to stop seeking. This is the stage where you know everything exists and you need not seek for it. You will knock and get it. You need not ask for it as it is always YOURS.

Shoan and His Mother

Shoun became a teacher of Soto Zen. When he was still a student his father passed away, leaving him to care for his old mother.

Whenever Shoun went to a meditation hall he always took his mother with him. Since she accompanied him, when he visited monasteries he could not live with the monks. So he would build a little house and care for her there. He would copy sutras, Buddhist verses, and in this manner receive a few coins for food.

When Shoun bought fish for his mother, the people would scoff at him, for a monk is not supposed to eat fish. But Shoun did not mind. His mother, however, was hurt to see the others laugh at her son. Finally she told Shoun: "I think I will become a nun. I can be a vegaterian too." She did, and they studied together.

Shoun was fond of music and was a master of the harp, which his mother also played. On full-moon nights they used to play together.

One night a young lady passed by their house and heard music. Deeply touched, she invited Shoun to visit her the next evening and play. He accepted the invitation. A few days later he met the young lady on the street and thanked her for her hospitality. Others laughed at him. He had visited the house of a woman of the streets.

One day Shoun left for a distant temple to deliver a lecture. A few months afterwards he returned home to find his mother dead. Friends had not known where to reach him, so the funeral was then in progress.

Shoun walked up and hit the coffin with his staff. "Mother, your son has returned," he said.

"I am glad to see you have returned, son," he answered for his mother.

"Yes, I am glad too," Shoun responded. Then he announced to the people about him: "The funeral ceremony is over. You may bury the body."

When Shoun was old he knew his end was approaching. He asked his disciples to gather around him in the morning, telling them he was going to pass on at noon. Burning incense before the picture of his mother and his old teacher, he wrote a poem:

For fifty-six years I lived as best I could,
Making my way in this world.
Now the rain has ended, the clouds are clearing,
The blue sky has a full moon.

His disciples gathered about him, reciting a sutra, and Shoun passed on during the invocation.

My Thoughts: Clearly this story (also see "Is That So?") is also an example that Zen monks are not manupulated by peoples' comments. This is because they are not mislead by external world. They are driven by their internal world. The monk knowing his last day and his verses "The blue sky has a full moon" indicates that (full moon = complete wisdom) he has complete wisdom.

Why Idol Worship

I asked what is "5+6"? A young man replied "11" immediately. I later went to a child and asked the same, he lifted his hands, started counting his fingers and after few seconds replied "11".

What did the child do? The young man having enough experience in simple mathematics, did not take any time and also did not use his fingers. But for the child, he visualized Numbers through his fingers to perform the calculation. Surely one day through practice, that child will stop using fingers but still be able to do the same calculation but also in a better and faster way. Using fingers for calculation has been one of the methodologies to understand mathematical calculations.

Now lets come to Idol worship. As the child used fingers to visualize numbers, we use Idols to visualize GOD. The child used fingers not to understand numbers but through numbers, understand the mathematical calculation. We need not understand GOD, we can use him to understand your SELF. At one stage surely, you will not require Idols to understand your SELF.

Muddy Road

Tanzan and Ekido were once travelling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.

Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.

"Come on, girl," said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.

Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself. "We monks don't do near females," he told Tanzan, "especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?"

"I left the girl there," said Tanzan. "Are you still carrying her?"

My Thoughts: Ekido saw the girl as person seeking help but Tanzan saw her as 'young and lovely girl'. Ekido, though physically carried her over the mud, he left her after crossing it but Tanzan was carrying that girl in his mind till the night.

We carry unnecessary thoughts and corrupt our mind. These negative thoughts would bring nothing good for us. Any thoughts driven by external entity needs correct interpretation, good understanding and always requires positive approach. Zen monks who understood complete truth will never get affected by external entities. They always rely and live in their internal world.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

The Moon Cannot Be Stolen

Ryokan, a Zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening a thief visited the hut only to discover there was nothing in it to steal.

Ryokan returned and caught him. "You may have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty handed. Please take my clothes as a gift."

The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away.

Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow, " he mused, "I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."

My Thoughts: The Zen master did not lead a materialistic life. This is why he did not loose anything to that thief. Zen mostly compares MOON to WISDOM/TRUTH. Zen master was referering to the WISDOM/TRUTH that the thief missed to get it from him.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

No Loving - Kindness

There was an old woman in China who had supported a monk for over twenty years. She had built a little hut for him and fed him while he was meditating. Finally she wondered just what progress he had made in all this time.

To find out, she obtained the help of a girl rich in desire. "Go and embrace him," she told her, "and then ask him suddenly: 'What now?'"

The girl called upon the monk and without much ado caressed him, asking him what he was going to do about it.

"An old tree grows on a cold rock in winter," replied the monk somewhat poetically. "Nowhere is there any warmth."

The girl returned and related what he had said.

"To think I fed that fellow for twenty years!" exclaimed the old woman in anger. "He showed no consideration for your need, no disposition to explain your condition. He need not have responded to passion, but at least he could have evidenced some compassion;"

She at once went to the hut of the monk and burned it down.

My Thoughts: Zen is a practice of getting rid of thoughts and emotions. One can either easily abandon or will take years. It depends upon one's mind.

If You Love, Love Openly

Twenty monks and one nun, who was named Eshun, were practicing meditation with a certain Zen master.

Eshun was very pretty even though her head was shaved and her dress plain. Several monks secretly fell in love with her. One of them wrote her a love letter, insisting upon a private meeting.

Eshun did not reply. The following day the master gave a lecture to the group, and when it was over, Eshun arose. Addressing the one who had written her, she said: "If you really love me so much, come and embrace me now."

My Thoughts: Zen is a meditation. Practicing your mind to get rid of external thoughts. You need to focus on your inside. LOVE, similar to anger, happiness, etc. is just a feeling which comes out of a chemical reactions in body. Ofcourse this reaction is initiated by our thoughts towards the externals. Zen is practicing your mind....its not so easy to control it...it takes long time. Eshun, by asking the monk to embrace her was not to proove his love for her but to remind him that he need to overcome the external thoughts.

Finding a Diamond on a Muddy Road

Gudo was the emperor's teacher of his time. Nevertheless, he used to travel alone as a wandering mendicant. Once when he was on his was to Edo, the cultural and political center of the shogunate, he approached a little village named Takenaka. It was evening and a heavy rain was falling. Gudo was thoroughly wet. His straw sandals were in pieces. At a farmhouse near the village he noticed four or five pairs of sandals in the window and decided to buy some dry ones.

The woman who offered him the sandals, seeing how wet he was, invited him in to remain for the night at her home. Gudo accepted, thanking her. He entered and recited a sutra before the family shrine. He then was introduced to the woman's mother, and to her children. Observing that the entire family was depressed, Gudo asked what was wrong.

"My husband is a gambler and a drunkard," the housewife told him. "When he happens to win he drinks and becomes abusive. When he loses he borrows money from others. Sometimes when he becomes thoroughly drunk he does not come home at all. What can I do?"

I will help him," said Gudo. "Here is some money. Get me a gallon of fine wine and something good to eat. Then you may retire. I will meditate before the shrine."

When the man of the house returned about midnight, quite drunk, he bellowed: "Hey, wife, I am home. Have you something for me to eat?"

"I have something for you," said Gudo. "I happened to get caught in the rain and your wife kindly asked me to remain here for the night. In return I have bought some wine and fish, so you might as well have them."

The man was delighted. He drank the wine at once and laid himself down on the floor. Gudo sat in meditation beside him.

In the morning when the husband awoke he had forgotten about the previous night. "Who are you? Where do you come from?" he asked Gudo, who still was meditating.

"I am Gudo of Kyoto and I am going on to Edo," replied the Zen master.

The man was utterly ashamed. He apologized profusely to the teacher of his emperor.

Gudo smiled. "Everything in this life is impermanent," he explained. "Life is very brief. If you keep on gambling and drinking, you will have no time left to accomplish anything else, and you will cause your family to suffer too."

The perception of the husband awoke as if from a dream. "You are right," he declared. "How can I ever repay you for this wonderful teaching! Let me see you off and carry your things a little way."

"If you wish," assented Gudo.

The two started out. After they had gone three miles Gudo told him to return. "Just another five miles," he begged Gudo. They continued on.

"You may return now," suggested Gudo.

"After another ten miles," the man replied.

"Return now," said Gudo, when the ten miles had been passed.

"I am going to follow you all the rest of my life," declared the man.

Modern Zen teachers in Japan spring from the lineage of a famous master who was the successor of Gudo. His name was Mu-nan, the man who never turned back.

My Thoughts: Gudo's words about life, enlightened the disciple. The disciple knows that nothing can be equal to repay him. Gudo considering him as family man asked to return several times. The disciple had given up everything and decided to follow Gudo. Its just a spark of words that Enlightened Mu-nan. Living in this world is like living in a dark room. You even do not know where the doors to escape are. Right master will not take you out. Instead he would knock the doors. You need to listen and identify the doors. I think Mu-nan listened Gudo's knocking and he headed towards the doors.

Is That So?

The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbors as one living a pure life.

A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store lived near him. Suddenly, without any warning, her parents discovered she was with child.

This made her parents very angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin.

In great anger the parents went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say.

After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything else the little one needed.

A year later the girl-mother could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth - that the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fishmarket.

The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask his forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back again.

Hakuin was willing. In yielding the child, all he said was: "Is that so?"

My Thoughts: For monks as they do not depend on externl things, people's comments either good or bad do not affect them. They know who they are and they are never worried what others think of them. You can go through Obedience which also insists this. Zen is a practice on meditation through which you get rid of worldly thoughts. Zen monks try to empty their own thoughts to understand existence of 'Nothing'. When they are trying to empty their own thoughts, how will they accept others thoughts into them?