ORIGINAL FACE
The Story of Daikan Eno (Huineng), part 2
Susan Ji-on Postal
Rohatsu Retreat, December 1998
This morning we left Eno at the far shore of the river, having been ferried across by his teacher, the Fifth Ancestor. That wonderful old master returned to his monastery and no longer would give Dharma Talks. When asked, he said "the Dharma is gone;" when asked further about the robe and the bowl, he replied "well, the robe has gone with the most able." The seven hundred monks became quite upset and many set off to chase down the young woodcutter who they thought had stolen, or at least un-rightfully taken, their teacher’s transmission items. The leader of the pack was monk Myo, a former general, and he really knew how to chase and pursue. What drama unfolds! Here is this young wood-cutter, really still a teenager, going off with what, in Myo’s mind, are the most precious things in the whole world. And Eno himself, just a kid really, from a background of poverty and illiteracy, he knows he is holding this most valued golden robe and this bowl. Can we imagine his state of mind? He is moving through the woods and he must be in some state of total wonder. He is moving quickly, with some directions from his teacher, but he also remembers his teacher saying that for anyone who holds this robe their life hangs by a thread. Perhaps Eno heard the crunch of footsteps on the leaves. Suddenly this former general appears, furious! Not only furious, but filled with righteousness, righteous indignation. "I’ve come to get back my teacher’s things!" We can imagine what Myo is feeling. He is steaming with anger. He is totally defended in his view, totally convinced he is right, totally focused on saving something for the monastery. Eno simply puts the things down on a rock. "This robe represents the faith, how can it be competed for by force? I will allow you to take it away."
The way Eno responded changed everything. Monk Myo tried to lift them up but "they were as immovable as a mountain." Now I am not so sure that there was some magic here. Something began to happen because Eno was absolutely extraordinary. The way he set down the robe and bowl and the way he said for Myo to go ahead take them, was so totally disarming for Myo that he couldn’t pick them up. They were immovable due to the clarity manifested by Eno. A shift, a turning, began to happen to Myo in response to the 6th Ancestor’s open and clear presence.
Something on a much smaller scale happened to me about 12 years ago. You might enjoy this story, it’s about the immovable Kwan-Yin. The first Kwan-Yin, identical to the one sitting on our altar here at the Meeting House, arrived at Wainwright House in 1983. They are identical "sisters" (they are made of plaster, the original is Ming dynasty Chinese, and come from the Chicago Art Institute, via Shasta Abbey) Anyway, the first one actually had an eye-opening ceremony there with Glassman Roshi and was a gift to Wainwright House from the sitting group I was leading on Monday nights from 1980-85. During those years she sat at the top of the stairs on a table, and we brought her in to the meditation room for our gatherings. When practice moved to the Meeting House in 1986 I thought I would simply move the Kwan-Yin over. I prepared a nice box, brought along a beautiful piece of silk to wrap her up carefully (she is easily scratched, as you may have noticed). I walked up the stairs, put the box down, and couldn’t lift her. At that moment the director walked out and said "you’re not taking the Buddha away just because you’re leaving?" and I said, "I guess not." I picked up my empty box and went back to the car. Kwan-Yin was immovable. I resonate with Myo’s dilemma. In this case the immovability was because something else was more important. It was more important that the first Kwan-Yin stay and remind everyone who came up the stairs at Wainwright House about compassion and peace, about being still, about meditation.
Clearly something became more important to monk Myo. He discovered that his hands could not lift the very items he came to retrieve. Something began to turn in him: totally terrified and trembling with awe, he says the strangest thing, "I come for the Dharma, please reveal it to me." Unbelievable! Can you imagine this mature former general and senior monastic telling this lowly not even ordained teenager "I come for the Dharma?" Then conditions are ripe for Eno to offer his first teaching, "Think neither good nor evil." Stop thinking! Let go of this/that. Up/down. Right/wrong, like/dislike. Eno continues, "At this very moment, what is the primal face of monk Myo?" At the moment of non-thinking, what is your original face? Who are you from before your parents took birth? That primal face has nothing to do with features, It doesn’t mean the genetics of noses, eyes, faces. It means your essence!
Monk Myo was absolutely cracked open; drenched with sweat and pouring tears, he had the beginning of a deep realization of his true nature. His experience was not yet complete, because he bowed and asked this rather sweet question. "Besides these secret words and secret meaning you have revealed to me, is there anything deeper still?" One doesn’t ask that question if the realization is complete. With completeness comes no doubt, no question about if there is anything further. And Eno’s answer is absolutely wonderful, "What I have just preached to you is no secret at all. If you reflect on your own true face the secret will be found in yourself." Nothing is hidden, it’s been here all the time, completely revealed. Ahh....Monk Myo truly begins to taste his own nature fully. He responds, "although I have been with the other monks, I never realized what my true self is. Now thanks to your instruction, I know it is like a man who drinks water and knows for himself whether it is cold or warm." For the first time he really experiences for himself, in his own body/mind, his own essence. Myo continues, " Now you, my brother, are my master." Eno turns that around so skillfully and says "if that is the way you feel, then we’ll both have old Konin for our teacher". So he doesn’t hold on to this adoration which comes, but he turns it so they can both honor the master who had taught them well.
So now we have sat for a whole day. Who you are, primally, intrinsically, is not so hidden now. It can’t be explained or understood with your thinker, but it is being tasted, being exhaled, inhaled. Monk Myo was in such a terrible predicament. We have it so easy. Such delicious food, such lovely conditions, even the weather is balmy. We’re not up against itexcept that our legs and back probably hurt a little bit. We don’t have this kind of "in extremis" that poor Myo had, or do we? I wonder if our own predicament, our own discouragement with our habitual small grabby self isn’t a bit like monk Myo. We aretired of it, we are exasperated, we hunger and yearn to somehow come home. Please let this day turn you! Just as monk Myo was turned by the circumstances and the teaching, turned right around, and totally stripped of his ideas and defenses. Emptying out,holding no-thing, your own original face will reveal itself to you, with no doubt.
reference:
Mumon, The Gateless Gate, Koun Yamada commentary, Zen
Center of Los Angeles, 1979,
case 23, "Think neither Good nor Evil", pp. 118-124.
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