yuanwu’s deathbed zen

papaji

 
At all times just remain free and uninvolved. Never make any displays of clever tricks — be like a stolid simpleton in a village of three families. Then the gods will have no road on which to offer you flowers, and demons and outsiders will not be able to spy on you.

Be undefinable, and do not reveal any conspicuous signs of your special attainment. It should be as if you are there among myriad precious goods locked up securely and deeply hidden in a treasure house. With your face smeared with mud and ashes, join in the work of the common laborers, neither speaking out nor thinking.

Live your whole life so that no one can figure you out, while your spirit and mind are at peace. Isn’t this what it is to be imbued with the Way without any contrived or forced actions, a genuinely unconcerned person?

Among the enlightened adepts, being able to speak the Truth has nothing to do with the tongue, and being able to talk about the Dharma is not a matter of words.

Clearly we know that the words spoken by the ancients were not meant to be passively depended on. Anything the ancients said was intended only so that people would directly experience the fundamental reality. Thus the teachings of the sutras are like a finger pointing to the moon, and the sayings of the Zen masters are like a piece of tile used to knock on a door.

If you know this, then rest. If your practice is continuous and meticulous and your application broad and all-pervading, and you do not deviate from this over the years, then you will mature in your ability to handle the teachings, to gather up and to release, and you will be able to see through petty things and cut them off without leaving a trace.

Then you when you come to the juncture of death and birth, where all the lines intersect, you won’t get mixed up. You will be clear and immovable, and you will be set free as you leave this life behind. This is deathbed Zen, for the last day of your life.
 

Yuanwu

 
 

after we resume our original nature

papaji

 

When the water returns

to its original oneness with the river,

it no longer has any individual feeling to

it; it resumes its own nature, and finds

composure. How very glad the

water must be to come

back to the original

river!

 

If this is so,

what feeling will we have

when we die? I think we are like the water

in the dipper. We will have composure then, perfect

composure. It may be too perfect for us, just now, because

we are so much attached to our own feeling, to our

individual existence. For us, just now, we have

some fear of death, but after we resume

our true original nature,

there is Nirvana.

 

Shunryu Suzuki

zen mind, beginner’s mind