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91.The Sound of One Hand
The master of Kennin temple was Mokurai, Silent Thunder. He had a little prot�g�
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.
92.My Heart Burns Like Fire
Soyen Shaku, the first Zen teacher to come to America, said: "My heart burns
like fire but my eyes are as cold as dead ashes." He made the following rules
which he practiced every day of his life.
In the morning before dressing, light incense and meditate.
Retire at a regular hour. Partake of food at regular intervals. Eat with
moderation and never to the point of satisfaction.
Receive a guest with the same attitude you have when alone. When alone, maintain
the same attitude you have in receiving guests.
Watch what you say, and whatever you say, practice it.
When an opportunity comes do not let it pass you by, yet always think twice
before acting.
Do not regret the past. Look to the future.
Have the fearless attitude of a hero and the loving heart of a child.
Upon retiring, sleep as if you had entered your last sleep. Upon awakening,
leave your bed behind you instantly as if you had cast away a pair of old
shoes.\
93.Eshun's Departure
When Eshun, the Zen nun, was past sixty and about to leave this world, she asked
some monks to pile up wood in the yard.
Seating herself firmly in the center of the funeral pyre, she had it set fire
around the edges.
"O nun!" shouted one monk, "is it hot in there?"
"Such a matter would concern only a stupid person like yourself," answered Eshun.
The flames arose, and she passed away.
94.Reciting Sutras
A farmer requested a Tendai priest to recite sutras for his wife, who had died.
After the recitation was over the farmer asked: "Do you think my wife will gain
merit from this?"
"Not only your wife, but all sentient beings will benefit from the recitation of
sutras," answered the priest.
"If you say all sentient beings will benefit," said the farmer, "my wife may be
very weak and others will take advantage of her, getting the benefit she should
have. So please recite sutras just for her."
The priest explained that it was the desire of a Buddhist to offer blessings and
wish merit for every living being.
"That is a fine teaching," concluded the farmer, "but please make one exception.
I have a neighbor who is rough and mean to me. Just exclude him from all those
sentient beings."
95.Three Days More
Suiwo, the disciple of Hakuin, was a good teacher. During one summer seclusion
period, a pupil came to him from a southern island of Japan.
Suiwo gave him the problem: "Hear the sound of one hand."
The pupil remained three years but could not pass the test. One night he came in
tears to Suiwo. "I must return south in shame and embarrassment," he said, "for
I cannot solve my problem."
"Wait one week more and meditate constantly," advised Suiwo. Still no
enlightenment came to the pupil. "Try for another week," said Suiwo. The pupil
obeyed, but in vain.
"Still another week." Yet this was of no avail. In despair the student begged to
be released, but Suiwo requested another meditation of five days. They were
without result. Then he said: "Meditate for three days longer, then if you fail
to attain enlightenment, you had better kill yourself."
On the second day the pupil was enlightened.
96.Everything is Best
When Banzan was walking through a market he overheard a conversation between a
butcher and his customer.
"Give me the best piece of meat you have," said the customer.
"Everything in my shop is the best," replied the butcher. "You cannot find here
any piece of meat that is not the best."
At these words Banzan became enlightened.
97.Inch Time Foot Gem
A lord asked Takuan, a Zen teacher, to suggest how he might pass the time. He
felt his days very long attending his office and sitting stiffly to receive the
homage of others.
Takuan wrote eight Chinese characters and gave them to the man:
Not twice this day
Inch time foot gem.
This day will not come again.
Each minute is worth a priceless gem
98.A Smile in His Lifetime
Mokugen was never known to smile until his last day on earth. When his time came
to pass away he said to his faithful ones: "You have studied under me for more
than ten years. Show me your real interpretation of Zen. Whoever expresses this
most clearly shall by my successor and receive my robe and bowl."
Everyone watched Mokugen's severe face, but no one answered.
Encho, a disciple who had been with his teacher for a long time, moved near the
bedside. He pushed forward the medicine cup a few inches. This was his answer to
the command.
The teacher's face became even more severe. "Is that all you understand?" he
asked.
Encho reached out and moved the cup back again.
A beautiful smile broke over the features of Mokugen. "You rascal," he told
Encho. "You worked with me ten years and have not yet seen my whole body. Take
the robe and bowl. They belong to you."
99.Every-Minute Zen
Zen students are with their masters at least two years before they presume to
teach others. Nan-in was visited by Tenno, who, having passed his
apprenticeship, had become a teacher. The day happened to be rainy, so Tenno
wore wooden clogs and carried an umbrella. After greeting him Nan-in remarked:
"I suppose you left your wooden clogs in the vestibule. I want to know if your
umbrella is on the right or left side of the clogs."
Tenno, confused, had no instant answer. He realized that he was unable to carry
his Zen every minute. He became Nan-in's pupil, and he studied six more years to
accomplish his every-minute Zen.
100.Flower Shower
Subhuti was Buddha's disciple. He was able to understand the potency of
emptiness, the viewpoint that nothing exists except in its relationship of
subjectivity and objectivity.
One day Subhuti, in a mood of sublime emptiness, was sitting under a tree.
Flowers began to fall about him.
"We are praising you for your discourse on emptiness," the gods whispered to
him.
"But I have not spoken of emptiness," said Subhuti.
"You have not spoken of emptiness, we have not heard emptiness," responded the
gods. "This is true emptiness." And blossoms showered upon Subhuto as rain.
_________________________
101.Publishing the Sutras
Tetsugen, a devotee of Zen in Japan, decided to publish the sutras, which at
that time were available only in Chinese. The books were to be printed with wood
blocks in an edition of seven thousand copies, a tremendous undertaking.
Tetsugen began by traveling and collecting donations for this purpose. A few
sympathizers would give him a hundred pieces of gold, but most of the time he
received only small coins. He thanked each donor with equal gratitude. After ten
years Tetsugen had enough money to begin his task.
It happened that at that time the Uji River overflowed. Famine followed.
Tetsugen took the funds he had collected for the books and spent them to save
others from starvation. Then he began again his work of collecting.
Several years afterwards an epidemic spread over the country. Tetsugen again
gave away what he had collected, to help his people.
For a third time he started his work, and after twenty years his wish was
fulfilled. The printing blocks which produced the first edition of sutras can be
seen today in the Obaku monastery in Kyoto.
The Japanese tell their children that Tetsugen made three sets of sutras, and
that the first two invisible sets surpass even the last.
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