I called my secretary: "Anne-Marie, I want to smoke!"
"No, Sensei, you must sleep."
But I couldn't sleep. One hour.... When the doctor returned he explained that tomorrow my shoulder would be better.
Anyway, my shoulder is still not well. Worse, even.
But right now I am completely in sanran. I feel my activity here, now, in zazen.
When you are in sanran, you must drop your mind, down, onto your fingers.... Right now there is too much activity rising in me and I want to cough. When you are in sanran, this is what happens: you want to let out your breath. So, at this time you must push down with your breath, you must exhale deeply and so push down on your intestines, and at the same time you must place your mind on your fingers between the thumbs.
When in kontin, though, you must place your mind between your eyelids. With these methods you can find your balance, your equilibrium. This is how it always is in daily life-sometimes sleepy, sometimes active.
After zazen you go dancing. A good gymnastic. Good for the body. But not so good for spiritual training. Better to become quiet. Like water in a glass. The water settles and so it becomes clear. But shake it up and the water only becomes troubled. Zazen is to return to the normal condition. To become pure and clean; like dirty water clearing in a glass. Down, down, down. And so it returns to its normal condition.
A MASTER NOT CONCERNED WITH GREATNESS
To understand the ego is to understand that it is not the car which is moving, not the boat, but it is ourselves moving.
People want to make a lot of money, they want a beautiful house, the best food, and they also want success, honor and fame.
When I first met my master Kodo Sawaki, he spoke one simple phrase which has influenced my life ever since: "I am always making a great effort," he said, "not to succeed." When I first heard this, I was surprised. Maybe he was getting too old and didn't know what he was talking about. "I make a big effort not to succeed." But I was impressed. Completely.
When I was a child, my father was always telling me that I should go to the best university, that I should become a successful businessman, make lots of money, accrue profits and become famous. My mother was the opposite: she was always telling me that it was not necessary to be a big success or to make a lot of money. Instead, her idea was that I become an educator, a monk.... So my parents were always arguing over this, and I suffered.
It was then that I met Kodo Sawaki. "I make great effort not to succeed. And the best method for this is zazen." What a waste of time, I thought.
When I arrived in Europe ten years ago, no one was doing zazen. But now it has spread.
I don't want success. But only to concentrate on those who wish to practice zazen. Those who understand zazen, this is enough. To have a few precious stones is better than to have many pebbles. If everyone became a precious stone, then the stones would lose their value.
SEARCHING IN OLD CHINA FOR A MASTER
So Dogen did not want to become great. And yet his name is even more historic that Eisai's, the founder of Rinzai in Japan.
Eisai kept telling Dogen: "You must become a great master. You, alone, must become the National Master, the master to the emperor." But Dogen did not understand this. Instead he thought that he should sail to China. Perhaps in China he could find a truly great master, a master not concerned with greatness.
So in 1223 he went to China. He was then twenty-three years old.... After visiting all the Rinzai masters he could find in China, he gave up and returned to his ship. There were no rooms available, no hotels, so he stayed on the ship, waiting for the day when it would pull anchor and return to Japan. The ship was anchored just off the coast of Shanghai.
It was then that an old monk came out to the ship to buy some shitake (a special sort of Japanese mushroom), and an important staple in this monk's temple.... Well, (it so happened that) this old monk was the chief tenzo of the Soto temple Keitokuji.
So, Dogen and this tenzo had a mondo. Not a strong mondo. Just a conversation. But which later became famous in Buddhist history.
This tenzo was very strong and he had a big and very deep face. But now it was in the middle of summer and very hot too hot to work-and this monk was old; he was in his late sixties. Dogen and the tenzo had a conversation, and the exchange completely impressed Dogen. Dogen did not get satori, and yet he remembered this conversation until he died. It was this conversation he had with the tenzo, with this tenzo who worked like a common laborer, which changed him and opened his doubt.
Chukai!
AUG. 3 / 7.30 A.M.
Yesterday, as you know, an abnormal woman disturbed others in the dojo.'*
Last night I could not sleep and this morning I am in kontin. Even for a master, it is not always easy to do zazen. At 2 A.M. this morning a mad woman came to visit me. I opened the door and she embraced me. There was no way to escape; she is big like a hippopotamus, and she held me in a rugby hold. My secretary came running up, but she couldn't break the big woman's hold on me. My secretary is too small and too thin, and all she could do was to look at us. Then Madame Monnot arrived. Then the doctor, and also Evelyne. And finally Cassan came. Cassan is a strong monk and he helped me (free myself from the woman's embrace). It was completely comic theater.
Then, early this morning, around five or six, I heard the banging of the han (the wood). Stephane, who wakes us up with the wood in 'the morning, must have made a mistake, I thought. Too early. I opened the door and again the woman threw herself on me. (She had been knocking at my door, imitating exactly the sound of the han.) So Stephane came and others too. Most of my disciples who sleep near me did not sleep last night. And me, I only slept two hours. Kontin.
THE PRETTY YOUNG MONK AND THE OLD TENZO
So Dogen offered the old monk some good Japanese tea, and then he said: "What do you want these Japanese mushrooms for?"
"I must prepare them for the many monks in my temple. We are in sesshin now and these mushrooms are necessary. They are very good. So I have come here."
"When do you return to your temple?"
"I will leave after lunch. But first I must go shopping."
"How far is it to your temple?"
"Thirty-five kilometers."
"Oh," said Dogen, "you have very far to go. And even if you leave right now, you won't arrive at your temple before dark. So perhaps, if you will, you can stay with me here in my stateroom. I want to speak to you. Please, you must teach me true Zen."
"No, I cannot stay," replied the tenzo. "If I do not return now, then tomorrow morning I will not have enough time to prepare the food."
"But there must be many monks in your temple, and other cooks too. So I cannot see that there would be any problem if you were absent for just one night. Please, stay here."
"No, no, no. A tenzo's work is of great importance. It is a work which has been transmitted from Buddha to Buddha and from patriarch to patriarch, so it is not at all possible to let someone else do this work. Another is not me. No one else can do my work but me. Just like no one can go pee-pee for me either," explained the tenzo. "Besides, in order to stay the night, I must have the permission of the chief of the temple, and I did not ask for it."
I can telephone for you," said Dogen. (Ah, this was not possible then.)
"But you are very old," continued Dogen. "Even for kitchen work you are too old. I can see that you are a very great monk. So shouldn't you be reading books instead?" Just that, and a little zazen, and some whiskey? This is what Dogen thought. Dogen thought that the reading of books and sutras, that intellectual work, was more important than manual work. Dogen had felt that in the study of Buddhism reading was more important than practice.
"Pretty boy, pretty young monk," said the tenzo (and what he then said has since become famous): "You do not know the true meaning of the word." He said only this-in a loud voice. Then he laughed. "How we practice the way, this you do not know."
Later Dogen wrote that at this moment he was
completely impressed, surprised. His entire body was covered in sweat.
"But what is bendo?" Dogen asked. "What is the true word? The true way? How do we practice the true way?"
The tenzo replied briefly: "Your question itself is the word, it is the practice of the way. Practice your question, and you will become a true follower of the way."
This answer is clear. But at that time, Dogen did not completely grasp it. What is this Chinese man trying to say? Dogen still could not understand the Chinese monk's words.
So, Dogen set a rendezvous with the tenzo to visit his temple.
"Surely, if you come I will welcome you. But right now I must leave and return to my temple."
That night, Dogen could not sleep at all. He was completely in sanran. Thinking, thinking. His brain was changing-since his childhood, since the time of his ordination; and now suddenly his brain had made a 180-degree turn. Why?
AUG. 3 / 9 P.M.
THE TENZO SAID:
"One, two, three, four."
Chin in! Stretch the neck!
Shoulders should drop. They must not be tense. Inside organs must drop down.
Concentrate on your exhalation.
Dogen quickly addressed the tenzo: "What is the true essence of the word?" (By this question Dogen meant: What is the true way to read the sutras?)
The tenzo said: "One, two, three, four."
(There is laughter in the dojo.)
How do we study the way? How do we study true Buddhism? Everywhere. This is what the tenzo had replied. The true way is not hidden.
The tenzo's answer is very simple: one, two, three, four. The true way exists everywhere. It is not hidden.15
IMPORTANCE OF THE WORDS
Dogen underwent a complete interior revolution. In Tenzo Kyokun he says that, "At this time I understood the true method for studying Buddhism. At this moment I understood how to read the sutras."
Until then Dogen had thought that the word was not at all important. Dogen had studied Rinzai Zen under Eisai, and the Rinzai monks had taught that the word was not important. That the essence of Zen exists outside the word. That, on the other hand, the true way exists only in the dojo, in the temple. That the practice of becoming a monk consists only in ceremonial practice, sutra reading and zazen in the temples. All else they felt (and Dogen too had felt) was not necessary.
Tendai, and many other Buddhist sects too, had rendered the ceremonies very complicated, and so, to become a monk one had only to understand how to practice these ceremonies, read the sutras and perform kito.
This is why Dogen thought a duality existed, that a separation existed between the ideal and the real; that these temple practices were one thing, and daily life was another.
But with this reply from the tenzo, Dogen's whole mind changed. Everywhere you can practice, everywhere you can learn to become a true monk. The practice exists everywhere. It is not hidden.
Stephane asked me today why I went to the Santa Lucia the other night. This is why.... But it is not necessary to dance to become a monk. What is necessary is to find where it exists. It exists everywhere. In standing, in sitting, everywhere.
How do we stand? How do we sit? How do we smoke, go to the toilet, dance? Right posture, right manner, is very important. Form influences mind. If form is straight, shadow is straight.
One must realize the word of Buddha. The word of Buddha is also the mind of Buddha. Read the sutras and you can find the exact mind of Buddha.
Master Rinzai and the Rinzai sect have this saying, which has become famous: Do not depend upon the word.
In Rinzai Zen, they say that the true mind of Buddha exists outside the sutras. This is what they say. But Dogen did not agree. Both exist.
If you read mistakenly the sutras, then of course what they say is not true. But if you read them accurately, if you read them truly, then you will find in them the essence of Buddhism.
This is important; Rinzai and Soto differ on this point.
A CELESTIAL WONDER
Anyhow, Dogen was completely impressed with the fervor, with the faith, of this tenzo. Had the old tenzo not taught Dogen this, then in the later encounter between Dogen and Nyojo, Dogen would not have had satori.
In Soto Zen, the tenzo is very important. Until his death, Dogen always visited the tenzo before he went to bed.
I do not do it (i.e., sampai) for Guy or for Laurent, but if one day they become like the old tenzo, then I too will do sampai to them.
It was because of this old tenzo's teaching that Dogen became the great master that he was. To have met this tenzo was a gift from heaven, a celestial wonder.
FROM THE DARK THEY ENTER THE DARK
Monks of the Rinzai sect have climbed up onto the lion's seat and proclaimed themselves great masters of the transmission. And so this Zen of theirs spread throughout China; this Zen which is not at all true. Their Zen is zusan.
Zusan means negligent, careless.
What is the difference between Soto and Rinzai? The root is the same. So from where comes the mistake? Of course, their customs differ: Rinzai monks sit differently; they do not sit facing a wall, the position of their hands are different. But never mind, this is not important.
Still, Rinzai Zen is zusan. The negligent inspires the negligent. Dogen explains this. The negligent does not know that it is negligent, nor that it is not negligent. A koan. The negligent learns from the negligent, but negligence does not know that it is negligence. Those who are negligent do not know the true way. Nor do they wish to learn the true way. From the dark they enter the dark. This is a great pity.
Since the Soto and Rinzai source is the same, why did Dogen choose to follow Nyojo and not Rinzai?
Patience.
These last moments in zazen are very important.
The last five minutes.
The last minute.
AUG. 4 / 7.30 A.M.
RINZAI - SOTO:
The barbaric and the delicate
Zuzan, zusan-Dogen always used this word to describe Rinzai Zen. Zusan means more than negligent; it alo means, not delicate, not complete. Wild, rough, inattentive.
In Shobogenzo chapter called "Seeing the Buddha Nature," it is written that, "In China there are presently many who call themselves great masters of the transmission. But it is not so. They are not true masters. All they have done is to recall in their minds the words of Rinzai and of Ummon, believing these words are the essence of Buddhism." But were this true, were these few words by Rinzai and Ummon true Buddhism, then the transmitted line would not have continued until today.16
In terms of true Buddhism, masters Rinzai and Unmon were not respectable masters. And modern masters of this tradition are not above Rinzai and Unmon, but below. These modern masters are completely zusan. They do not know true Buddhism. They have not studied deeply the sutras, they have not studied the teaching of Buddha. They are heretic. These masters do not represent the line of the transmission of the family of Buddha." Then, Dogen's final sentence in this chapter: "You must not meet with them."
So while Rinzai is called zusan, Soto is called men mitsu. Men mitsu is the opposite of zusan. Men means cotton, it means soft, and mitsu means thick, intimate, honey. So, men mitsu means delicate, careful, attentive, scrupulous.17
THE DOJO BECAME A BATTLEFIELD
Like Dogen, I too first received a Rinzai education. At the Rinzai temple in Kamakura. The master's name is Asahina (he is still living today) and at that time he was also a professor of ethics at the University of Yokohama. I met him when I was a student at that university.
Asahina proposed that I come join him at his Rinzai dojo for the summer. So I thought, why not? It's certainly a nice place. I'll be able to go swimming in the sea, I'll have time to read books, and for a change I won't go back to my own home. So I went to his dojo. But there wasn't any time for anything but zazen. We did zazen all the time, from morning to night. It was even beyond mortification. Not once could I rest. So I sat in zazen in a corner of the dojo. But
the kyosakuman was always hitting me-without my asking for it. The stick he used was very big and very long, and it hurt. Anyway, one morning this kyosakuman hit me on top of the head, by mistake. I became mad, like the crazy woman here, and I grabbed the kyosaku from him and began hitting him back with it. Everyone in the dojo jumped up to stop me. But at that time, I was second Dan in Kendo-a champion-and I attacked everyone with the stick. Then quickly I escaped from the temple, crying out: "Zen is not true Buddhism! Zen is complete violence!" Anyway, the dojo had been transformed into a battlefield.
A famous master... I forgot his name... would arrive in the morning to give us a koan. Then later in the day we would have to line up outside his door to wait our turn to visit him. We would wait one hour or more, seated outside his door, on our knees in the Japanese style. The pain was terrible, yet if we moved even a little bit, the shusso, who sat behind us, would hit us with the kyosaku. Then, when it was time to enter the master's room, we would have to do sampai three times: once outside the door, once on the threshold, and once in front of the master.
The mondos lasted only a few minutes, nonetheless, the only thing we ever felt was fear. The master would growl something which I could not understand. It sounded like a foreign language. So I said: "I can't understand." He replied: "You must do more zazen."
I did sampai as fast as I could and got out quickly. The following morning it was the same thing. I would tell him very quickly: "I cannot understand," and then just as quickly escape. And finally I would say to him:-"I cannot understand, I cannot understand"-even before he could ask his question.
Sit Page 9
