The Importance of Hiddenness
Chapter XIV/18. In: The Golden Age of Zen
by John C. H. Wu
​​​​​​​

Nan-ch'üan once went to visit a village and found to his surprise that the village head had already made preparations to welcome him. The master said, “It has been my custom never to let anyone know beforehand my goings about. How could you know that I was coming to your village today?” The village head replied, “Last night, in a dream the god of the soil shrine reported to me that Your Reverence would come to visit today.” The master said, “This shows how weak and shallow my spiritual life is, so that it can still be espied by the spiritual beings!”

The Zen masters set little or no value on the siddhis or magical powers. This point is well illustrated in the life of Niu-t'ou Fa-yung (594-657). Niu-t'ou came from a scholarly family in the city of Yen-ling in modern Kiangsu. By the time he was nineteen, he was already well steeped in the Confucian classics and the dynastic histories. Soon after he delved into Buddhist literature, especially the Prajna scriptures, and came to an understanding of the nature of Shunyata. One day he said to himself, “Confucianism sets up the norms for mundane life, but after all they do not represent the ultimate Law. The contemplative wisdom of the Prajna is truly the raft to ford us over to the supramundane.” Thereupon he retired into a hill, studied under a Buddhist master, and had his head shaved. Later he went to the Niu-t'ou Mountain and lived all alone in a cave in the neighborhood of the Yu-hsi Temple. A legend has it that while he was living there, all kinds of birds used to flock to his hermitage, each holding a flower in its beak, as if to pay their homage to the holy man.

Some time during the reign of Chen-kuan (627-650), Taohsin, the Fourth Patriarch of the Chinese School of Zen, looking at the Niu-t'ou Mountain from afar, was struck by its ethereal aura, indicating that there must be some extraordinary man living there. So he took it upon himself to come to look for the man. When he arrived at the temple, he asked a monk. “Is there a man of Tao around here?” The monk replied, “Who among the home-leavers are not men of Tao?” Tao-hsin said, “But which of you is the man of Tao, after all?” Another monk said, “About three miles from here, there is a man whom people call the ‘Lazy Yung,' because he never stands up when he sees anybody, nor gives any greeting. Can he be the man of Tao you are looking for?” Tao-hsin then went deeper into the mountain, and found Niu-t'ou sitting quietly and paying no attention to him. Tao-hsin approached him, asking, “What are you doing here?” “Contemplating the mind,” said Niu-t'ou. “But who is contemplating, and what is the mind contemplated?” Tao-hsin asked. Stunned by the question, Niu-t'ou rose from his seat and greeted him courteously, saying, “Where does Your Reverence live?” “My humble self has no definite place to rest in, roving east and west.” “Do you happen to know the Zen master Tao-hsin?” “Why do you ask about him?” “I have looked up to him for long, hoping to pay my homage to him some day.” “This humble monk is none other than Tao-hsin.” “What has moved you to condescend to come to this place?” “For no other purpose than to visit you!” Niu-t'ou then led the Patriarch to his little hermitage. On seeing that it was all surrounded by tigers and wolves, Tao-hsin raised his hands as if he were frightened. Niu-t'ou said, “Have no fear! There is still this one here!” “What is this one?” Tao-hsin asked. Niu-t'ou remained silent. Some moments later, Tao-hsin scribed the word “Buddha” on the rock on which Niut'ou used to sit. Gazing at the word, Niu-t'ou showed a reverential awe. “Have no fear,” said Tao-hsin, “there is still this one here.” Niut'ou was baffled. Bowing to the Patriarch, he begged him to expound to him the essential Truth. Tao-hsin said, “There are hundreds and thousands of Dharmas and yogas; but all of them have their home in the heart. The supernatural powers and virtues are as innumerable as the sand on the beaches; but all without exception spring from the mind as their common fountainhead. All the paths and doors of shila, dhyana and Prajna, all the infinitely resourceful siddhis, are in their integral entirety complete in your mind and inseparable from it. All kleshas and karmic hindrances are fundamentally void and still. All operations of cause and effect are like dreams and illusion. Actually there are no three realms to escape from. Nor is there any Bodhi or enlightenment to seek after. All beings, human and nonhuman, belong to one universal, undifferentiated Nature. Great Tao is perfectly empty and free of all barriers; it defies all thought and meditation. This Dharma of Suchness you have now attained. You are no longer lacking in anything. This is Buddhahood. There is no other Dharma besides it. All that you need is to let the mind function and rest in its perfect spontaneity. Do not set it upon contemplation or action, nor try to purify it. Without craving, without anger, without sorrow or care, let the mind move in untrammeled freedom, going where it pleases. No deliberate doing of the good, nor deliberate avoiding of the evil. Whether you are traveling or staying at home, sitting up or lying down, in all circumstances you will see the proper occasion for exercising the wonderful functions of a Buddha. Then you will always be joyful, with nothing to worry about. This is to be a Buddha indeed!”

Niu-t'ou was enlightened. Thereafter he emerged from his life as a hermit, and gave himself to the active works of charity and to the expounding of the Mahaprajnaparamita Sutra.

Although the “Zen of Niu-t'ou” has been regarded by later Chinese masters as outside of the main currents of the School of Zen, his contributions to the elucidation of the philosophy of Nagarjuna are not to be minimized. His main teaching that illumination is to be achieved through contemplation of the Void spread to Japan through Dengyo Daishi (767-822). In China, the “Zen of Niu-t'ou” claimed adherents as late as in the eighth generation after him. Even at present, Niu-t'ou's gathas are cherished by Buddhists of all schools as an integral part of the Mahayana philosophy in China.

Even in the School of Zen, one of the most popular koans has to do with Niu-t'ou. The question is: “How was it that before Niu-t'ou had met the Fourth Patriarch, the birds used to flock to him with flowers in their beaks, while after his enlightenment the prodigy ceased?” Of course, all the masters of Zen have of one accord regarded the latter state as incomparably higher than the former state. But everyone has his own way of describing the two states. Shan-ching described the earlier state as “a magical pine-tree growing in a wonderland, admired by all who see it,” while he likened the latter state to a tree with “its leaves fallen and its twigs withered, so that the wind passes through it without leaving any music.” But the most graphic comment was from the master I of Kuang-te. Of the first state he remarked:

When a jar of salted fish is newly opened,
The flies swarm to it buzzing all around.

Of the second, he stated:

When the jar is emptied to the bottom and washed clean,
It is left all alone in its cold desolation.

Huai-yüeh of Chang-chou spoke of the first state as “myriad miles of clear sky with a single speck of cloud”; and of the second as “complete emptiness.” To Ch'ung-ao of Lo-feng, in the first state “solid virtue draws homage from the ghosts and spirits”; while in the second state, “the whole being is spiritualized, and there is no way of gauging it.”

From the above samplings, one can see clearly the authenticity of the spirituality of Zen. With the sureness of their experiential insight, the Zen masters seem to have hit upon an unerring scale of values in spiritual life. Sensible consolations are not to be despised, but all the same they must be outgrown if one is to advance higher. Desolation is like the unleavened bread which may not taste so sweet but is of vital essence to one's life. There is still another point which is noteworthy. One's internal life must, of course, be hidden from the human eye. This was true of Niu-t'ou even before he had met Tao-hsin, as he was already a hermit. But, as Nan-ch'üan so clearly saw, your internal life must be so hidden that even the demons and angels have no way of espying it.

And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row


And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row


fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

[Harmonica Solo]


(dylan)

from the song of the bird, anthony demello


SERPENTS AND DOVES

SO BE WISE AS SERPENTS AND INNOCENT AS DOVES.
-MATTHEW 10:16


 Observe the wisdom that operates in doves and in flowers and trees and the whole of Nature. It is the same wisdom that does for us what our brain could never do: It circulates our blood, digests our food, pumps our hearts, expands our lungs, immunizes our bodies and heals our wounds while our conscious minds are engaged in other matters.

This kind of Nature-wisdom we are only now beginning to discover in so­ called primitive peoples who, like the dove, are so simple and wise.
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We who consider ourselves more advanced have developed another kind of wisdom, the cunningness of the brain, for we have realized that we can improve on Nature and provide ourselves with safety and protection and length of life and speed and comfort unknown to prim­itive peoples. All of this thanks to a fully devel­oped brain. Our challenge is to recapture the simplicity and wisdom of the dove without los­ing the cunningness of the serpentine brain.

How can you achieve this? Through an im­portant realization, namely, that every time you strive to improve on Nature by going against it, you will damage yourself, for Nature is your very being. It is as if your right hand were to fight your left hand or your right foot were to stamp on your left foot. Both sides lose and, instead of being creative and alive, you are locked in conflict. This is the state of most peo­ple in the world. Take a look at them: dead, uncreative, stuck because they are locked in conflict with Nature, attempting to improve themselves by going against what their nature demands. In a conflict between Nature and your brain, back Nature; if you fight her, she will eventually destroy you. 

The secret therefore is to improve on Nature in harmony with Nature. How can you achieve this harmony?

First: Think of some change that you wish to bring about in your life or in your personality. Are you attempting to force this change on your nature through effort and through the desire to become something that your ego has planned?

 That is the serpent fighting the dove. Or are you content to study, observe, understand, be aware of your present state and problems, without pushing, without forcing things that your ego desires, leaving Reality to effect changes accord­ing to Nature's plans, not yours? Then you have the perfect blending of the serpent and the dove. Take a look at some of those problems of yours, those changes you desire in yourself, and ob­ serve your way of going about it. See how you attempt to bring about change-both in your­ self and in others-through the use of punish­ment and reward, through discipline and con­trol, through sermonizing and guilt, through greed and pride, ambition and vanity, rather than through loving acceptance and patience, painstaking understanding and vigilant aware­ness.

Second: Think of your body and compare it with the body of an animal that is left in its natural habitat. The animal is never overweight, never tense except before fight or flight. It never eats or drinks what is not good for it. It has all the rest and exercise that it needs. It has the right amount of exposure to the elements, to wind and sun and rain and heat and cold. That is because the animal listens to its body and al­lows itself to be guided by the body's wisdom. Compare that with your own foolish cunning-ness. If your body could speak, what would it say to you? Observe the greed, the ambition, the vanity, the desire to show off and to please oth­ers, the guilt that drives you to ignore the voice of your body while you chase after objectives set by your ego. You have indeed lost the simplicity of the dove.

Third: Ask yourself how much you are in touch with Nature, with trees and earth and grass and sky and wind and rain and sun and flowers and birds and animals. How much are you exposed to Nature? How much do you commune with her, observe her, contemplate her in wonder, identify with her? When your body is too long withdrawn from the elements, it withers, it becomes flabby and fragile because it has been isolated from its life force. When you are too long separated from Nature, your spirit withers and dies because it has been wrenched from its roots.

A leaf ...

all flesh is grass


isaiah 40 6, 7

The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field:

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the LORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass.

Oh you are a bad monkey for throwing that one at me mate!  
 try this isaiah 40 6, 7/16

https://youtu.be/hmyuE0NpNgE?si=n5n57AwmteL3zN4t

Yung-ming Yen-shou (904-975)
"From the Womb of a Cow an Elephant is Born"
(From The Transmission of the Lamp, Chüan 26)
Translated by Chang Chung-yuan
In: Original Teachings of Ch'an Buddhism. New York: Random House, 1969. p. 250-255.



A monk asked, "What is the profound essence of the teaching
in the Yung-ming Monastery?"
The Master answered, "Put more incense in the burner."
The questioner said, "Thank you for revealing it to me."
The Master said, "Fortunately, I had nothing to do with the
matter."

The Master made the following gatha:

To know the essence of the teaching here in the Monastery of Yung-ming,
Imagine that a lake lies in front of the door.
When the sun shines upon it, a bright light is reflected.
When the wind blows, the ripples rise.

The questioner asked, "I have been at the Yung-ming Monastery
for so long. Why should I still not understand the spirit of your
teachings?"
The Master answered, "You should seek understanding from
what you cannot understand."
The questioner continued, "How can I gain understanding from
what I cannot understand?"
The Master answered, "From the womb of a cow an elephant is
born; in the middle of the blue sea red dust is blown up."
The questioner asked, "There is nothing that one can attain
even though one learns to be a Buddha or a patriarch; there is also
nothing that one can attain even by going through the Karma of
Six Courses. What is this that one cannot attain?"
The Master said, "Nothing can come out of what you asked."
The questioner asked, "I heard from you that all Buddhas and
their teachings came out of this sutra. What is this sutra?"
The Master answered, "Eternally revolving unceasingly, it is
neither the meaning nor the sound."
The questioner asked, "How do I receive and retain it?"
The Master answered, "If you want to receive and retain it, you
have to listen to it with your eyes."
The questioner asked, "What is the great perfect mirror?"
The Master said, "A broken earthen pot."

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/fMJO19XBRHI

Terry, I've frozen the topic you created some time ago called "mapping mappo" due to its large size and the resulting slow downloads. Is this the replacement? If it is, I can link folks from the end of that topic to this new one.

Please let me know,

Thanks!

Ah nice but this one is far more juicy!  
https://www.youtube.com/live/6Qoe8y1k2Q8?si=I2FGGUo5kHU4m1G5

it is all of a piece

like watcching a turd flush

really bra who gives a shit

Many of us seem to care bruv! 

https://youtu.be/irpFD-uBfs4?si=bIftGRzORfhxqXB9

BTW once we manage to muzzle the imperial US I will not care that much