No more moon

For this online Rohatsu I found myself, most of the time, sitting with twenty or so other people (sample here), so that the hermitage became a virtual monastery.

Between sits we walked kinhin, a form of walking meditation that gets the blood flowing and gives relief from sitting zazen -- useful when there are twenty-two sits in two days. In daylight, while purportedly focused inward, I found much going on outside my window. As it was stark reality, it seemed all right to have a look. Horses pawed at washed-out grass. A flicker hammered on the wall right in front of me. Starlings murmurated.

From time to time I would stop and visit the images above the altar. At top, here (obscured by the reflection from outside), we have Monju with his sword of wisdom; at right, Niaoge sitting in the crook of a pine tree, with a magpie; at bottom, Prajnaparamita; at left, Mugai Nyodai's official portrait sculpture.

These are my current personal collection of superhero posters. Monju is said to have said: “Not abiding in appearances is abiding in prajñā-pāramitā.” Niaoge is said to have said: "If you are searching for Ch'an [Zen], I also have a little here." And blew a feather toward his leave-taking disciple. Prajnaparamita personified reminds me of the wisdom of emptiness (no abiding essence through time). And then there is Mugai:

One of Bukko’s students was the first Japanese woman to receive a certificate of inka. Her Buddhist name was Mugai Nyodai, but she is remembered by her personal name, Chiyono. She was a member of the Hojo family by marriage and a well-educated woman who long had an interest in the Dharma. After her husband died and her family responsibilities had been fulfilled, she went to study with the Chinese master. After completing her studies with Bukko, she became the founding abbess of the most important Zen temple for women in Kyoto, Keiaiji.

A teaching story with no apparent basis in fact suggests that before coming to study with Bukko, Chiyono had been a servant at a small temple where three nuns practiced Buddhism and hosted evening meditation sessions for the laity. According to this story, Chiyono observed the people practicing zazen and tried to imitate their sitting in her quarters, but without any formal instruction all she acquired for her efforts were sore knees. Finally she approached the youngest of the nuns and asked how to do zazen. The nun replied that her duty was to carry out her responsibilities to the best of her abilities. “That,” she said, “is your zazen.”

Chiyono felt she was being told not to concern herself with things that were beyond her station. She continued to fulfill her daily tasks, which largely consisted of fetching firewood and hauling buckets of water. She noticed, however, that people of all classes joined the nuns during the meditation sessions; therefore, there was no reason why she, too, could not practice. This time she questioned the oldest of the nuns. This woman provided Chiyono with basic instruction, explained how to sit, place her hands, fix her eyes, and regulate her breathing.

“Then, drop body and mind,” she told Chiyono. “Looking from within, inquire ‘Where is mind?’ Observing from without, ask ‘Where is mind to be found?’ Only this. As other thoughts arise, let them pass without following them and return to searching for mind.”

Chiyono thanked the nun for her assistance, then lamented that her responsibilities were such that she had little time for formal meditation.
“All you do can be your zazen,” the nun said, echoing what the younger nun had said earlier. “In whatever activity you find yourself, continue to inquire, ‘What is mind? Where do thoughts come from?’ When you hear someone speak, don’t focus on the words but ask, instead, ‘Who is hearing?’ When you see something, don’t focus on it, but ask yourself, ‘What is that sees?’”

Chiyono committed herself to this practice day after day. Then, one evening, she was fetching water in an old pail. The bucket, held together with bamboo which had weakened over time, split as she was carrying it and the water spilled out. At that moment, Chiyono became aware.

Although the story about her time as a servant is certainly apocryphal, the part about the broken pail precipitating her enlightenment seems to be based on her actual experience. She commemorated the event with these lines:

    In this way and that I tried to save the old pail
    Since the bamboo strip was weakening and about to break
    Until at last the bottom fell out. 
    No more water in the pail! No more moon in the water!    

(Story by Richard McDaniel, per Terebess. Poem by Reps and Senzaki, tr.)