Featured in Mountain Record 22.1, Fall 2003
Xuefeng said, “There are many people who sit beside a rice bucket dying from starvation.1 There are also many who sit beside a great body of water and are dying of thirst.”2 Xuansha said, “There are many who sink their heads inside a rice bucket and still starve to death.3 There are also many who stick their heads into the water and yet die of thirst.”4
Yunmen later said, “Throughout the entire body is rice.5 Throughout the entire body is water.”6
When adepts meet, they can see what is appropriate. They are able to distinguish right from wrong and together witness each other’s clarity. If you wish to enter this realm yourself, you must first understand that rice and water are dharma. If dharma is the dharma nature, then rice and water are also dharma nature. If dharma is thusness, food likewise is thusness. If dharma is enlightenment, rice and water are enlightenment. At the very moment of eating and drinking, we are possessed of ultimate reality. Therefore, dharma is eating and eating is dharma.
This being the case, why do Xuefeng and Xuansha speak of the existence of thirst and starvation in the presence of food and drink? Why is there delusion in the presence of the dharma nature, thusness and enlightenment? Yunmen proclaims the entire body as rice, water and dharma. Then why do thirst, starvation and delusion nevertheless persist?
Say a word that transforms starvation and thirst into nourishment for the whole body and mind.
When you see the truth clearly, you know how to use it freely. You use it like a bird uses flight or a fish uses water. There’s no reflection. It’s spontaneous and immediate. It doesn’t require judgment, analysis or understanding. If you have not seen the truth clearly, however, then you are like a bird in a cage, a fish in a bucket. There’s no freedom. This koan points to freedom.
When adepts meet, they can see what is appropriate. These three teachers, Xuefeng, Xuansha and
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John Daido Loori, Roshi |
Yunmen, belong to the same lineage, and they can see what is or isn’t in accord with the Way. They are able to distinguish right from wrong and together witness each other’s clarity. Testing with a word, a gesture, a question and answer, they clarify the truth. This testing is an important part of our tradition. It’s not enough to just sit on a cushion day after day. Teacher and student constantly encounter each other in order to test their understanding — in order to set right what has gone askew.
The commentary continues, If you wish to enter this realm yourself — if you want your understanding to accord with these teachers’ understanding — you must first understand that rice and water are dharma. Dharma is the whole phenomenal universe. Nothing is excluded. And yet, many people sit beside a rice bucket dying of starvation. There are also those who sit beside a great body of water dying of thirst.
If we were to take the water in the well at Zen Mountain Monastery and tagged every molecule with deuterium, in a very short period of time we would find that deuterium everywhere. It would be in our garden, in the grass, the deer and the raccoon, the eagles. We would find it in our breath, our urine, in the Esopus river that flows to New York City. It would be in the Atlantic Ocean, in Alaska, New Zealand and Japan. Every time a person came to the Monastery and ate our food, she would introduce it into the incredible biological ecosystem of the area where she lives, and thus would keep spreading the deuterium-tagged water.
That’s the way the dharma works. It reaches everywhere, past, present and future. Whether we measure it scientifically or spiritually, we cannot separate ourselves from this reality. We’re an intimate part of it.
If dharma is dharma nature, then rice and water are also dharma nature. Dharma nature means the nature of the ten thousand things. If dharma is thusness, food is likewise thusness. Thusness means the truth that is neither form nor emptiness. It is the non-dual dharma that doesn’t fall into either side. If dharma is enlightenment, then rice and water are enlightenment — identity with all things.
The next line says, At the very moment of eating and drinking, we are possessed of ultimate reality. That’s a line from Master Dogen’s teaching on the dharma of taking food. When we take a meal, defecate or urinate, we enter into a process of merging with everything that surrounds us. When we breathe in, we breathe in the whole universe. When we breathe out, the self merges with the universe. This is the dynamic equilibrium of all things. This is the Diamond Net of Indra.
Whether we realize it or not, we’re constantly in dynamic equilibrium with the ten thousand things. When we realize with the whole body and mind that we are the universe, we call that realization enlightenment. When eating is realized clearly, it becomes a celebration of the dharma. There’s no separation between eating and drinking, and the samadhi of self-fulfilling activity. Therefore, dharma is eating and eating is dharma.
But, just like there are diseases of eating, there are diseases of dharma eating. There’s a spiritual anorexia and bulimia, and like the medical conditions, they have their roots in conditioning and fear. Spiritual anorexia is the unwillingness to take in dharma food. Spiritual bulimia is gorging oneself with dharma, yet not allowing it to be digested and processed.
Twenty-three years ago we established a rice bucket on this mountain alongside the Esopus River. Thousands of people travel from as far as Oregon, Hawaii, Europe, South America, to partake and be nourished by the rice and water. Then, there are those who live around the corner in Phoenicia, Woodstock, or Olive, sit alongside the bucket, and even though they’re hungry, they don’t eat the rice, don’t drink from the river. They know of the existence of the rice bucket and the body of water, yet they don’t avail themselves of them. Others come through the gates, stick their heads in the bucket, stick their heads in the river, but don’t open their mouths, don’t take a drink. They are right in the midst of rice and water, but like hungry ghosts, they can’t swallow it, can’t assimilate it. And all the time, every single one of us is all rice, all water. It’s not even a matter of taking it in. It’s just a matter of realizing it.
So what is rice and water? Our tendency is to see the dharma very
superficially. There’s only so much we can convey in our workshops or write about in a book. That’s just the tip
of the dharma. In order to really take it in and digest it, it needs to be
encountered and experienced directly. What happens when you go beyond the edges
and explore practice deeply?
We think we know what zazen is: working with the breath, shikantaza or koan introspection. But how many people are aware of the ten stages of zazen? The first stage is settling the mind — just quieting down. This quieting or centering leads to the still point. The still point is followed by concentration, or in the case of shikantaza, an abiding awareness. From that develops the single-pointedness of mind, similar to what the Buddha experienced sitting under the bodhi tree before he realized anuttara–samyaksambodhi. Then there is the falling away of body and mind. That’s five stages of zazen. Then there are five different kinds of samadhi that follow those stages.
In face-to-face teaching there are also different phases. The relationship always begins with a parent/child relationship, where the teacher functions as a parent, nurturing and supporting the student through what is essentially completely new territory. Then, after a period of time and depending upon the ability of the student, the relationship transforms and the teacher begins to function as a guide: no longer telling the student what to do but just gently pointing. In the next stage the teacher becomes a spiritual friend, pulling back even further. But keep in mind that this progression is not an isolated event. It is happening as the student matures through the stages of development in all of the Eight Gates of Zen, the matrix of training of this monastery. The spiritual friend becomes a spiritual equal. Now the teacher and student are walking the path together. One of them has been there before, the other is seeing things for the first time. But the one who has been there before stays out of the way. Master Yunmen called this kind of teaching “following after the waves.” Finally, the parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent. When the roles are reversed, the training is completed.
In liturgy too, there are ten stages of development. We have some thirty liturgical positions that students need to learn. There’s also liturgical tantra. Liturgy is not just about chanting; it’s not just about words or gestures. There’s a whole other level of consciousness involved.
Another one of the eight gates is academic study. There are various ways of studying. Most of us do it very superficially. We study in order to obtain information. There’s also research, which goes a little deeper. Then there’s contemplative study, where a different aspect of the mind is involved. Many of the Buddhist sutras cannot be appreciated unless they are read contemplatively.
Art practice refers to the creative process, both in art and in life. It pertains to creative problem solving. It includes stepping out of the rut that the world has prescribed: this is the way you raise a child, this is the way you grow a garden, this is the way you should do this and that. What does your own creative consciousness tell you? Are you able to step out of the ordinary and think that which has never been thought, bring into existence something that didn’t exist before? This is what I call enlarging the universe.
Body practice is not just about pumping iron, jogging or riding a bicycle. It’s about healing the body and mind. Body and mind are one reality. So are self and others. How do you heal them? How do you heal yourself? There’s a vast body of teachings contained in body practice. It’s all part of rice in the bucket, water in the river.
The moral and ethical teachings, the Precepts, the Five Ranks of Master Dongshan interpenetrate in every aspect of our existence. The Precepts are not just a set of rules. They are dynamic and alive, constantly informing whatever we do.
Finally, we have work practice. It
includes every activity, from simply picking weeds to complex tasks. It refers
to right livelihood, to management that heals and nourishes the workers and the
people who are served, as well as the environment. All of this “caretaking” is
embodied in work practice.
As you can see, we are talking about a bucketful of rice, a vast and boundless body of water. If we just dip our toes in it or nibble on a few grains of rice, we’re selling ourselves short. Fifty years ago, there was little information on Buddhism in the west. It wasn’t being practiced in this country — or if it was, it was done very quietly. The Japanese teachers had not yet arrived. So, even though the rice was here, there was nobody to point it out. But now there is no excuse. Teachers have established Zen centers all over the country. There is rice and water in abundance.
This being the case, why is there delusion in the presence of dharma nature, thusness and enlightenment? Why is there starvation and thirst in the presence of rice and water? Do we know? Are we aware that we’re starving? Are we aware that we’re not availing ourselves of the rice and water?
Spiritual hunger is a very special kind of hunger. We look for it when we screen those who want to come into training. We make sure that people interested in training are really hungry, that they’re not just impressed with Eastern philosophy, but wrestle with real life and death questions. We emphasize this hunger every step of the way. But still, it’s possible to be in the bucket, up to your nostrils in rice and water, and not open your mouth.
The koan commentary ends, Say a word that transforms starvation and thirst into nourishment for the body and mind. What can we say? How can we transform thirst and starvation into food that nourishes and a drink of clear, pure, mountain spring water that fills our entire body? How do we let ourselves be nourished by the dharma so that it manifests in everything we do? We’re not talking about theoretical ideas. We’re talking about real food that nourishes. There’s a big difference between reading the menu and eating the meal. There’s a difference between eating just an appetizer or a dessert, and eating a whole meal. The meal we’re talking about has eight courses. And every dish is intertwined with every other dish. Every dish nourishes and heals. If you miss any of it, you miss the whole thing.
The capping verse says:
Everywhere, constantly suffering pain. One of the most important truths you can appreciate as you struggle with your pain, is that most of your wounds are self-inflicted — or at best, self-perpetuated. And nobody can heal them for you. The Buddha can’t. I can’t. Only you can.
Although they have talent, alas! they have no power. Power turns the pain around. The power is there, but it’s not yet realized. Where does it come from? Raise the bodhi mind, practice, realize, actualize. The power to practice comes from zazen itself. It comes from you to you.
The sun rises but darkness prevails. The sun always shines, but we don’t always see it. All we see is darkness, because we carry that darkness with us. The mist melts away, but the valley remains hidden. The valley is the valley of the endless spring of enlightenment. It’s always been there, though sometimes it’s covered with mist. And, sometimes that mist dissolves and still the valley remains hidden.
What is that valley of the endless spring? It’s the life of each one of us — perfect and complete, lacking nothing, wherever we stand. It doesn’t need to be consumed with suffering and pain. Each and every being has the potential to transform. This transformation has been taking place for the last 2,500 years. Thousands of Buddhist men and women have practiced it, have realized themselves, have transformed their lives, and in turn have helped to transform the lives of others.
Each one of us has the power to heal, whether we realize it or not. If you want to realize it, take the backwards step. The answers come from the same place as the questions. Look to yourself. Realize yourself. Transform yourself. You’re the only one who can do it.
John Daido Loori, Roshi is the abbot of Zen Mountain Monastery. A successor to Hakuyu Taizan Maezumi, Roshi, Daido Roshi trained in rigorous koan Zen and in the subtle teachings of Master Dogen, and is a lineage holder in the Soto and Rinzai schools of Zen.
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