Zen Masters Of China. Richard Bryan McDaniel
If only this is realized;
No more worry about your not being perfect!
The believing mind is not divided,
And undivided is the unbelieving mind—
This is where words fail,
For it is not of the past, future, or present.3
DAYI DAOXIN
Regardless of how reclusive Zen masters were, highly motivated students continued to seek them out. So it was that Dayi Daoxin tracked down Sengcan. The third patriarch asked his visitor what he was looking for, and Daoxin replied: “Please show me the way to achieve liberation.”
“Who is it that holds you in bondage?” Sengcan asked.
“Well, no one,” Daoxin admitted.
“Then why are you seeking liberation?”
These words startled the young man, and he became Sengcan’s disciple. After many years, he too attained awakening and Sengcan declared him his successor, giving him the robe and bowl that had been passed down from Bodhidharma.
By the time of Daoxin, the suppression of Buddhism had abated and monasteries were once again open. A formal tradition of Zen training was starting to evolve. Daoxin instructed his disciples to be earnest in their practice of zuo chan (zazen in Japanese) or sitting meditation. “Zazen is basic to all else. Don’t bother reading the sutras; don’t become involved in discussions. If you can refrain from doing so and concentrate instead on zazen, for as much as thirty-five years or more, you will benefit. Just as a monkey will eat a nut still in its shell although it’s only satisfied when it has patiently extracted the nut from that shell, so there are only a few who will bring their zazen to fulfillment.”
Zazen was brought to fulfillment in the “emptiness” of which Bodhidharma had spoken to Emperor Wu. But Daoxin warned, “When those who are still young in the practice see emptiness, this is seeing emptiness, but it isn’t real emptiness. To those who are mature in the practice and who have attained emptiness, they see neither emptiness nor non-emptiness.”
NIUTOU FARONG
Two schools of Zen are said to have descended from Daoxin’s teaching. The first was the Niutou, or Ox-head School, which only survived for a few generations. The actual founder of this school was the hermit Farong who lived in a small temple in the Niutou Mountains. He lived such a holy life that birds brought him offerings of wild flowers. Farong’s fame was such that Daoxin’s curiosity was aroused and he determined to visit the recluse; others, however, warned him that Farong was so committed to his practice of meditation that he would not even acknowledge the presence of people who sought him out.
Undiscouraged, Daoxin made his way into the mountains and at length found Farong, just as he had been described, sitting in meditation on a stone outside the small temple he maintained. Daoxin sat opposite the hermit and when, at last, the hermit glanced at him, Daoxin asked: “Reverend Sir, may I ask what you’re doing?”
“I’m contemplating Mind,” Farong answered.
“Ah. May I ask: who is he who is contemplating, and what mind is it that’s being contemplated?”
Farong was taken aback, uncertain how to answer these questions. Suspecting that his visitor might be someone more accomplished than himself, he rose from the stone on which he had been sitting and greeted Daoxin formally, inviting him to stay and have a cup of tea.
While they were chatting, Daoxin heard the roar of a wild beast in the woods, and he was startled. Farong smiled and remarked, “I see it’s still with you.”
Daoxin made no comment, but, when Farong went into his dwelling to prepare the tea, Daoxin took the opportunity to write the name of the Buddha on the stone where Farong had been sitting. When he returned, Farong saw the sacred name on his stone and hesitated to desecrate it by sitting down.
“Mmm,” Daoxin murmured. “I see it’s still with you.”
On hearing these words, Farong came to genuine awakening, and the birds no longer brought him wildflowers.
DAMAN HONGREN
The second school to descend from Daoxin was the East Mountain School of his successor, the fifth patriarch, Hongren.
The story is told that an elderly tree-planter heard Daoxin speaking one day and felt a great longing to become his disciple. But because of his age, he believed he was too old to begin the practice of Zen. Somewhat despondent, he returned to his home and along the way came upon a young woman washing clothes on the bank of a river. He spoke to her, telling her that he sought to be reborn in order to become a disciple of the fourth patriarch and asked if she would be willing to be his mother in his new life. As odd a proposition as this was, the girl agreed to do so. The tree planter then died, and the young laundress found herself pregnant. When her child was born, the girl’s parents tried to conceal their daughter’s disgrace by throwing it into the river. But the newborn floated on the water and survived to be raised by others.
Now named Hongren, the child came to visit Daoxin when he was only six years old and asked to be admitted to the sangha. Daoxin asked the boy what his family name (xing) was, and Hongren replied with a clever pun: “I have a nature (xing) but it is not an ordinary one.” Although the characters for “name” and “nature” are different, they are pronounced the same.
“What is it then?” Daoxin inquired, still asking for the precocious child’s name.
“It is Buddha-nature [fo xing].”
“So you have no name [xing]?”
“No, master,” the boy continued the pun, “because it [referring to his nature] is empty.”
Daoxin accepted Hongren as a disciple, despite his age, and the boy dedicated himself to the practice with fervor. Zen chroniclers record that he worked in the monastery during the day and then often remained up until dawn sitting in meditation.
When Daoxin retired, he named Hongren his successor, passing on Bodhidharma’s robe and bowl. The fifth patriarch then moved to East Mountain. He was already famous and quickly attracted a large group of disciples. There were even invitations from the emperor to come to the city, which Hongren declined, saying that he would refuse even if threatened with execution—an answer it is said the emperor admired.
On East Mountain, Hongren taught his disciples Daoxin’s discipline of zazen. The Zen School was still small, and some of Hongren’s students wondered why he hid away in the mountains rather than teaching in the cities, where more students might be attracted. Hongren offered this analogy: “Where are the trees found that are used for making the pillars and beams of a large building? They aren’t found in populated areas where they may be cut down for trivial reasons such as for firewood. They’re found in secluded mountain valleys where they’re free to grow as large as they can. In the same way, those who seek to grow in the dharma must live apart from the large population centers so that they too may grow un-molested, undistracted by trivialities. Studying in this manner, away from distractions, they grow strong.”
It was to this isolated mountain temple that a young, illiterate woodcutter named Huineng would make his way.
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