Joshu

Joshu

One of the most beloved masters in early China was Joshu, admired for his economy and spirit. Zen Master Joshu was born in 778 CE and became a monk when he was 18 years of age. He stayed with his teacher Nansen for 40 years. When Nansen died, Joshu grieved for some years, and then, at the age of 60, after his grief had worn through, he said “I think I’m going to wander around for a while.” He spent the next 20 years traveling about China, visiting various Zen teachers and letting them check his mind. He was checking their minds too.

At the age of 80 he thought, “It’s time to settle down now,” and he became the head of a small temple, where students would come and go, and he would have quiet, pointed interactions with those who met him. It was said that a kind of light shown around his mouth, he was so direct, purified, simple, non-greedy about his own mind and his own practice. Modest and having submitted for so long, he became who he really was. He died at the age of 120, and thus he had the advantage, once he had settled down at the age of 80, to have another 40 years of discovery, enjoying peculiar and unmediated interactions with those who found their way to his modest temple.”

To begin with some of his koans , stories messages and haikus

(A haiku is not a poem, it is not literature; it is a hand becoming,  a door half-opened, a mirror wiped clean.  It is a way of returning to nature, to our moon nature, our cherry blossom nature, our  falling leaf nature, in short, to our Buddha nature)

To what shall I compare this life of ours?
 Even before I can say
 it is like a lightning flash or a dewdrop
 it is no more.

The body is the tree of enlightenment,
 The mind like a clear mirror stand; 
 Time and gain wipe it diligently,
 Don't let it gather dust.

The more you know, the less you understand.

No matter where you go, there you are.

"There's no way to happiness--happiness is the way. There's no way to

peace--peace is the way. There's no way to enlightenment--enlightenment

is the way."        

A student once asked him: "If I haven't anything in my mind, what shall I do?"

Joshu replied: "Throw it out."

"But if I haven't anything, how can I throw it out?" continued the questioner.

"Well," said Joshu, "then carry it out."

Unburdened with duties and frugal in their ways. 
Peaceful and calm, and wise and skillful, 
Not proud and demanding in nature. 
Let them not do the slightest thing 
That the wise would later reprove.

A little more about Joshu …..

THE GREAT Japanese Zen master Dogen declared that "There was no Joshu before Joshu, and there was no Joshu after Joshu."

Joshu was born in 778 A.D. in northern China. Not much is known about his childhood, but one of the sources indicates that was also deeply influenced by Taoist thinking. Not only does he quote Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, but many of his comments on Buddhist matters are made in a Taoist mood Joshu stayed with Nansen for forty years. From the dialogues recorded in this book we can sense that there was a deep understanding between the two. When Nansen died (in 834 A.D.), Joshu was fifty-seven years old. He stayed in Nansen's monastery, mourning, for another three years. Then, at the age of sixty, Joshu took a water bottle and a walking stick and left for twenty years of wandering. The sources record that upon his departure Joshu made the following oath: "Even with a seven-year-old child, if he is superior to me, I shall follow him and beg for his teaching. Even with a hundred-year-old man, if he is inferior to me, I shall follow him and teach him."

In those years of wandering, Joshu met with most of the Zen masters of his time. Many of these meetings are recorded in this book. At the age of eighty Joshu finally settled down in his native village in the province of Jo: Although Joshu repeatedly claimed that he had nothing to teach, monks and laymen, common people and rulers of state came to ask him questions, to listen to his words, or just to watch him. The major part of this book is a record of Joshu's sayings from this last phase of his life, which lasted over 40 years. Joshu died in the year 897 at the age of 120.

(A Zen story

Is that so? 

A beautiful girl in the village was pregnant. Her angry parents demanded to know who was the father. At first resistant to confess, the anxious and embarrassed girl finally pointed to Hakuin, the Zen master whom everyone previously revered for living such a pure life. When the outraged parents confronted Hakuin with their daughter's accusation, he simply replied "Is that so?"

When the child was born, the parents brought it to the Hakuin, who now was viewed as a pariah by the whole village. They demanded that he take care of the child since it was his responsibility.

"Is that so?" Hakuin said calmly as he accepted the child. For many months he took very good care of the child until the daughter could no longer withstand the lie she had told. She confessed that the real father was a young man in the village whom she had tried to protect. The parents immediately went to Hakuin to see if he would return the baby. With profuse apologies they explained what had happened. "Is that so?" Hakuin said as he handed them the child.)

"A cup of tea in Zen is not the same as it is anywhere else in the world. A cup of tea is the greatest reception a Zen master can give to you. The cup of tea represents awareness. After drinking tea you cannot go to sleep; hence tea became one of the most important symbols of awareness, of meditation. Have a cup of tea does not simply mean, Have a cup of tea. Certainly the tea is offered, but with the understanding that the cup is full of awareness. A cup of tea has been used in many ways by the Zen masters." Osho

 (A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself. "It's overfull! No more will go in!" the professor blurted. "You are like this cup," the master replied, "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup.")

The Great Crossing 

The Buddha said: "A man beginning a long journey sees ahead a vast body of water. There is neither boat nor bridge. To escape the dangers of his present location, he constructs a raft of grass and branches. When he reaches the other side he realizes how useful the raft was and wonders if he should hoist it on his back and carry it with him forever.

Now if he did this, would he be wise? Or, having crossed to safety, should he place the raft in a high dry location for someone else to use?

This is the way I have taught the dharma, the doctrine - for crossing, not for keeping. Cast aside every proper state of mind, oh monks - much less wrong ones - and remember well to leave the raft behind!"

( A Zen Story

Two monks were travelling from one monastery to another.. They were celibate monks, even not allowed a direct gaze at women. After long walk, they came to a river, which they had to cross. The river was flooded and there was no way that they would get across without getting wet. One lady was also at the banks of river, wanting to cross.. Monks decided to cross the river by walking through the shallow part of the river, Since the lady also needed to get on the other bank, one of the monk without much ado, carried her on his shoulders, and soon they reached the other bank, where he set her down.. The lady went her way and the two monks continued their walk in silence.

The other monk was really upset, finding the other monks act disturbing. As per their injunctions, they were not allowed to look at the woman, forget touching and the other monk carried her across the river!!

After some time the confused monk couldn?t stand the thought and asked other monk? "We are not allowed to look at other women, not touch them.. but you carried a woman across the river?!"

The other monk had a smile on his lips when he replied "I put her down when I crossed the river, are you still carrying her?!")

The sayings of joshu is one of the outstanding zen texts of the t'ang period in china. Joshu (chao-chou, 778-897) was indeed an extraordinary zen master. His sayings and his actions were of extreme lucidity, though this lucidity is not always immediately obvious. The very simplicity of joshu's words may sound puzzling, especially in translation.

THE GREAT Japanese Zen master Dogen declared that "There was no Joshu before Joshu, and there was no Joshu after Joshu."

Joshu was born in 778 A.D. in northern China. Not much is known about his childhood, but one of the sources indicates that as a child Joshu loved solitude and that his parents objected to his

becoming a monk.            

Our minds are trained to respond to things in terms of differentiation and identification. Underlying such mental processes is the universal prejudice that beyond the mere existence of things there is "an essence," beyond their appearance "a meaning." Yet once we realize that the existence of things is their essence (their appearance, their meaning), what is there to understand? In our quest for "meaning" we have tried almost every possible answer except the most simple and obvious one: that the meaning of things are the things themselves. Everything is, in as far as it cannot be denied. However, its raison d'etre does not lie in any other thing nor in some principle or truth beyond the thing itself. The essence of a thing is no-thing or nothing.

      

 Joshu asked Nansen: "What is the path?"

 Nansen said: "Everyday life is the path."

 Joshu asked: "Can it be studied?"

 Nansen said: "If you try to study, you will be far away from it."

 Joshu asked: "If I do not study, how can I know it is the path?"

 Nansen said: "The path does not belong to the perception world, neither does it

 belong to the nonperception world. Cognition is a delusion and noncognition is

 senseless. if you want to reach the true path beyond doubt, place yourself

 in the same freedom as sky. You name it neither good nor not-good."

At these words Joshu was enlightened.

    -- a Zen Koan

Shooting the target 

After winning several archery contests, the young and rather boastful champion challenged a Zen master who was renowned for his skill as an archer. The young man demonstrated remarkable technical proficiency when he hit a distant bull's eye on his first try, and then split that arrow with his second shot. "There," he said to the old man, "see if you can match that!"

Undisturbed, the master did not draw his bow, but rather motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain. Curious about the old fellow's intentions, the champion followed him high into the mountain until they reached a deep chasm spanned by a rather flimsy and shaky log. Calmly stepping out onto the middle of the unsteady and certainly perilous bridge, the old master picked a far away tree as a target, drew his bow, and fired a clean, direct hit. "Now it is your turn," he said as he gracefully stepped back onto the safe ground.

Staring with terror into the seemingly bottomless and beckoning abyss, the young man could not force himself to step out onto the log, no less shoot at a target. "You have much skill with your bow," the master said, sensing his challenger's predicament, "but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot."

To become a Budha                               

Joshu detests abstract concepts such as "the Way," "the Truth," or "Buddha."

When still a young monk, he asks his master Nansen for "the Way." Nansen replies that "The moment you aim at anything, you have already missed it."

A monk asked, "When I wish to become a Buddha what then?"

Joshu said, "You have set yourself quite a task, haven't you?"

The monk said, "When there is no effort-what then?"

Joshu said, "Then you are a Buddha already."

Joshu said, "If I do not aim at it, how can I know the Way?"

Nansen said, "The Way has nothing to do with\ 'knowing' or 'not knowing.' Knowing is perceiving but blindly. Not knowing is just blankness. If you have already reached the un-aimed-at Way, it is like space: absolutely clear void. You cannot force it one way or the other,"

At that instant Joshu was awakened to the profound meaning. His mind was like the bright full moon.

NOTE: Nansen suggests that the Way of Zen is not "a way," Where  there is "a way," there is bound to be "another way," If you aim at something over consciously, you tend to exclude what seems to you to be irrelevant to what you consider your "aim," Thus, "knowledge," which is based upon distinction and differentiation, is blind to the all-encompassing, What is the use of searching for a goal that is not-grass, not-frog, not-stick, not anything that is a thing?

The famous ‘Mu koan‘. A monk asked Master Joshu: ‘Does a dog have Buddha-nature?’ Joshu replied: ‘Mu.’ Doctrinally, its answer is ‘yes’ as all beings can evolve towards enlightenment (Buddha-nature). But Joshu deliberately does not answer with an unequivocal ‘yes’ or ‘no’ so as to demolish the monk’s dependence on scriptural logic. ‘Mu’ is the Chinese ideogram for ‘nothing’ which might also be interpreted as ‘no-thing’ or emptiness. With a single syllable, Joshu has revealed no-thingness as the core of existence. 

More Haikus

 Before I had studied Zen for thirty years, I saw mountains as mountains, 
 and waters as waters.

When I arrived at a more intimate knowledge, I came to the point
where I saw that mountains are not mountains,
and waters are not waters. 

But now that I have got its very substance I am at rest.
For it's just that I see mountains once again as mountains, 
and waters once again as waters

 Excerpt from: Joshu: The Lion's Roar

On one occasion, as joshu was receiving new arrivals in his monastery, he asked one of them, have you been here before?

"Small things to be noted: one, the master himself is at the reception desk receiving new arrivals. Zen is an effort to look into your potentialities. Why waste time? – not even a few moments. So the master is receiving new arrivals at the gate of the monastery. In the first encounter with each new arrival it will be determined whether he is worthwhile to work upon, or just to let him have a cup of tea and move on. 

"And the question that he asked does not mean what you think it means. Have you been here before? He is not talking about the ordinary `here; he is talking about the ultimate `here. It is not concerned with the place, the monastery, or Joshu. It is concerned with a meditative state where time ceases and only now-ness remains; where space disappears and only here-ness is left behind. 

"This now and here, these two words, contain the whole approach of Zen. If you can be now and here, nothing else has to be done. Every door of existential mystery will be opened unto you. 

"So when a man like Joshu asks, have you been here before? dont misunderstand him. He is not talking about the place, he is talking about spacelessness, timelessness. Have you ever been in deep meditation? That is what he is asking. 

"‘YES,’ the monk said. 

" ‘Help yourself to a cup of tea!’ 

"The monk has understood the meaning of ‘here’. It is not that he has been here to this monastery before, it simply means he has known the taste of here-ness. A simple yes implies a vast meaning, that I am not a newcomer, dont count me among the new arrivals. I have been here – where else can I be?

"But it is not said so explicitly. That is the beauty of Zen, that it leaves the most important part to be discovered by you. When the monk says, Yes,he is also saying, through his eyes and through his gestures, What kind of a question are you asking? Where else can I be? Everybody is here, wherever he is – it doesnt matter. Here is the only point where you can be.

"His yes is not to be misunderstood. He does not mean that he has been to this place; he says, I have been here always – where else can I be?

"with a great respectfulness Joshu said, Help yourself to a cup of tea!

Master Nansen was washing clothes.

A monk asked: "Is the master still doing such things?"

Master Nansen, holding up his clothes, asked: "What is to be done with them?" Zen Mondo

Zen Quotes and Haikus

'A man of Tao has no self, so how can he be guilty of wrongdoing ?

 To act without any sense of self is to be free of wrongdoing.'

'Fundamentally, I have not moved at all. How can there be hurry ?'

 My daily activities are not unusual,
 I'm naturally just in harmony with them.
Grasping nothing, discarding nothing...

“A finger pointing to the moon is not the moon.”

“Why don't you die right now and enjoy the rest of your life?

At this moment what more need we seek?
As the Truth eternally reveals itself,
This very place is the Lotus Land of purity,
This very body is the Body of the Buddha.

The conditioned and
Name-and-Form,
All are flowers in the sky.
Nameless and formless,
I leave birth-and death

Well versed in the Buddha Way,
I go the non-Way
Without abandoning my
Ordinary person's affairs..

As flowing waters disappear into the mist
We lose all track of their passage. 
Every heart is its own Buddha.
Ease off ...  become immortal.

Nansen (748-834) was a disciple of Basso and the teacher of Joshu. The following exchange occurred when Joshu was a young man:
Joshu: What is the Way?
Nansen: Ordinary mind is the Way.
Joshu: Shall I seek it?
Nansen: No, if you seek it you cannot find it.
Joshu: Then how shall I know the Way?
Nansen: The way is not a matter of knowing or not knowing. Knowing is delusion; now knowing is confusion. The true Way is as vast and boundless as outer space. How can you talk about it in terms of right and wrong?

At this Joshu became enlightened. What' is Joshu's message? Joshu's message is that there is no message: that the world with all its various things is neither "good" nor "bad," neither "holy" nor "unholy"-it is nothing beyond itself. "I go directly to the core of the matter," says Joshu.

Our minds are trained to respond to things in terms of differentiation and identification. Underlying such mental processes is the universal prejudice that beyond the mere existence of things there is "an essence," beyond their appearance "a meaning." Yet once we realize that the existence of things is their essence (their appearance, their meaning), what is there to understand? In our quest for "meaning" we have tried almost every possible answer except the most simple and obvious one: that the meaning of things are the things themselves.

If you had not already found me, you would not be seeking me. St. Augustine

A story is told of a Zen master who, while on pilgrimage in China, met another pilgrim on the way. After a while they came to a wide river. The master stopped, but the other pilgrim continued by walking on water. When he was partway he turned to the master to beckon him across. The master called out, "You deceiver, I thought you were a man of value! If I had known that you would pull a stunt like that I would have cut you off at the ankles. "

Far from seeing the exotic or the marvelous as the Way, Zen says that even something as mundane as washing the dishes is the Way. Washing dishes, everyday mind is the direction to go in practice, the way to practice, and even the goal of practice itself. A monk came to Joshus temple and asked, I" am new here, could you please tell me what the essence of your teaching might be?" "Have you eaten?" asked Joshu. "Yes", replied the monk. "Then go and wash your dishes".

Why does Zen repudiate the magical and extol the mundane everyday life? A clue to the answer to this question lies in another saying, this time by a famous Zen layman, P'ang, who lived more or less at the same time as Joshu. He said, "My miraculous power and magical ability: drawing water and chopping wood." In other words, the mundane world is already miraculous and magical. The wonder is not that people walk on water, it is that they walk at all. Speaking in tongues is not marvelous; it is saying "Good morning!" and "Good afternoon!" wherein the miracle lies.

In the original conversation with Nansen, Joshu was, as I said, quite put out. In his confusion he stammered another question: "How do we get on the Way?" He is asking the most basic question, "How does one practise Zen?" Normally one is told that one must sit, preferably in one or other of the lotus postures with the back straight and a low centre of gravity and simply follow the breath. I usually emphasize the point that one must follow the breath and not control it. It is the simplest of all practices. One simply follows the breath, one simply allows the breath to breathe.

In this there is no "I" who breathes. However, although it is so simple, it is almost impossible to do except after many years' hard work. When Joshu asked "How does one get on to the Way?" he was asking, "What must I do?" If everyday mind is the Way, if simply blowing your nose is a miraculous power and a magical activity, what can there be to do? This is why Nansen replied, "If you try to get on to the Way you push it away." Anything that you do is already too much, even if it is just following the breath. A story which is one of my favorites is the following: A monk went to Joshu, after Joshu had begun teaching, made his bows, was about to speak when Joshu struck him. The monk recoiled in surprise and said, "Hey! Why are you hitting me? I haven't even opened my mouth yet!" "What is the good of waiting until you have opened your mouth?" growled Joshu. Nothing needs to be done; even to think of opening your mouth is already too much.

"From the beginning all beings are Buddha." This is the first line of a very famous chant that we chant at the Montréal Zen Centre. From the very beginning we are already home. All that we can ever seek is already accomplished. Before a step is taken the journey is complete. It is our very search, our lust for the miraculous and magical, that hides from us the truth. A miracle cannot be understood with our normal reason and logic – it is beyond the laws of the universe. A miracle cannot be defined, captured or contained. This can also be said of our true nature, of what we are originally.

Joshu's last question to Nansen was this: "How do we know we are on the Way?" It would seem that at least we should know that we are on the Way. But Nansen says, "Knowing is an illusion; not knowing is a blank. It is like vast space. Where is there room for good and evil?" All that we can know, no matter how sublime, is not the real, is not the truth. All that we know is an illusion. Jesus said, "I am the Truth, the Life and the Way." This is true of each of us. By this I do not mean that I, Albert Low, the personality, am the only reality, or the Truth or the Light of the world. The personality can be known. Yet what is it that knows but cannot be known? In this lies Nansen's final phrase, "It is like great space. Where is there room for the opposites?" In the very question "What is it that knows but cannot be known?" lies the subject of Zen practice.

A monk asked, “How are we to train ourselves [to be free of the illness]?”

The Master answered, “Such an excellent monk! Don’t become a big-headed monk.”

The monk asked, “Well, after all, what should I do?”

The Master answered, “If you set yourself up in a state, you cannot keep it for long.”

The monk said, “What is the path of the right training?”

The Master answered, “It will be after your death.”

The monk demanded, “What will happen after my death?”

The Master said, “You won’t wash your face.”

The monk said, “I do not understand you.”

The Master repeated, “You will not wash your face any more.”

The Transmission Of The Lamp, Sohaku Ogata

Zen Master Joshu (778-897)was one of the foremost Chinese Zen Masters of Ancient China. Many of some of the best known koans today originated with Zen Master Joshu (including: "Does a dog have Buddha nature?"). His importance as a teacher can be measured by just how many of his sayings are contained within very important Zen koan books. Five of the koans contained within the Gateless Gate are Joshu's, as well as twelve of the some 100 are his within The Blue Cliff Record. Even though Joshu's life seems to be the "embodiment of the Zen ideal", it was his actual ability to express the nature of an enlightened mind in a pithy and succinct fashion-that is what truly made his teachings so influential. His sayings have been preserved in the Zen literature as timeless and potent as expressions of the actual experience of enlightenment. If you are interested on reading some of Zen Master Joshu's sayings more extensivelly, purchase The Recorder Sayings of Zen Master Joshu translated and Introduced by James Green.

While ten or twenty Zen sayings and stories”have so often been repeated as to have become common usage in the west (e.g. “carry water, chop wood…” “when hungry eat…” “mountains are mountains…” etc.), there is a veritable treasure trove that is largely neglected. Despite popular notions about Zen’s disdain for words and letters, the classic literature of Zen is – by far – the most voluminous of all Buddhist traditions.

Way of Zen

The Transmission of the Lamp: Early Masters

 A monk asked, “All relationships scatter away and return to the emptiness. To what does the emptiness return?”

The Master (Fu Ch’I) called out, “Brother!”

The monk said, “Yes, Sir!”

The Master demanded, “Where is the emptiness?”

But the monk said, “On the contrary, please, you tell me where it is.

The Master snorted, “Persian people eat peppers.”

The Transmission Of The Lamp, Sohaku Ogata

Your self-partiality is at the root of all your illusions. There aren’t any illusions when you don’t have this preference for yourself.

-Bankei, The Unborn, Norman Waddell

 To quote Master Joshu (The Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Joshu), “Where is the Buddha to be found? Thousands and ten thousands of people are ‘seeking-for-Buddha’ fools. If you try to find one person of the Way among them, there is none.”

A monk asked Joshu, “What about it when all the bones are pulverized, and there is one everlasting spirit?”

Now that’s a profound question. It could lead to all sorts of conjectures and symbols and answers.

What did Joshu answer?

Joshu put an end to the nonsense by saying, “It’s windy again this morning.”

Remember: The true Buddha is within you.

A little more about Joshu ...

“Thinking about Joshu: One of the most beloved masters in early China was Joshu, admired for his economy and spirit. Zen Master Joshu was born in 778 CE and became a monk when he was 18 years of age. He stayed with his teacher Nansen for 40 years. When Nansen died, Joshu grieved for some years, and then, at the age of 60, after his grief had worn through, he said “I think I’m going to wander around for a while.” He spent the next 20 years traveling about China, visiting various Zen teachers and letting them check his mind. He was checking their minds too.

At the age of 80 he thought, “It’s time to settle down now,” and he became the head of a small temple, where students would come and go, and he would have quiet, pointed interactions with those who met him. It was said that a kind of light shown around his mouth, he was so direct, purified, simple, non-greedy about his own mind and his own practice. Modest and having submitted for so long, he became who he really was. He died at the age of 120, and thus he had the advantage, once he had settled down at the age of 80, to have another 40 years of discovery, enjoying peculiar and unmediated interactions with those who found their way to his modest temple.”

~ Roshi Joan Halifax

A monk asked Chan master Baizhang (Pai-chang, 749-814), “Who is the Buddha?” Baizhang answered: “Who are you?”