Joshu's Dog

 

A monk asked Joshu, a Chinese Zen master: "Has a dog Buddha-nature or not?"

Joshu answered: "Mu."

Mushin

Countless Students have lost sleep and appetite on this "MU"...

For one thing, Joshu did not say "MU". He said "WU", because he was Chinese, not Japanese.




And "WU" is  the way Chinese dogs bark, English speaking dogs do "WOOF", Chinese dogs do "WU". Anybody with a bit of common sense knows that.

Japanese dogs, I don't remember...

Two important facts well known by those with the slightest experience of the Canine world: 

1. Dogs don't do "MU" in any language.   
2. No matter their nationality or culture, dogs bark to display their unhappiness about the way things are, and to signify something like  "DON'T DO THIS, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, DON'T COME HERE, STAY AWAY !"

So some smart disciple asks a question about the nature of a dog, and the Master barks back to him.  That's it! It does not mean "no" it does not mean "yes", it's barking.

Now the student with a lust for deep meaning tries to figure that one out and loses sleep over it. 

When they translated that into Japanese, they should have said the student asked if a cow had Buddha nature, Cows usually do "MU". However, the "MU" of a cow does not carry the same disapproval meaning as the "WU" of a dog... 

Now, do you imagine what would it be if the student had asked "Does a giraffe has  Buddha Nature or not ?" 

Once upon a time, during a sword seminar in Pensacola, my friend Joe asked Carl Long Sensei something like "Sensei, when you perform this waza, do you lean forward, or do you lean backward ? "

And the answer came "YES"...

Practice...

Nansen Cuts the Cat in Two - 十四 南泉斬猫

The story of Nansen and the cat is case 14 in a collection of 48 koans recorded in a document named Mumonkan (or Gateless Gate)

Nansen Oshõ saw monks of the Eastern and Western halls quarreling over a cat.

He held up the cat and said, "If you can give an answer, you will save the cat. If not, I will kill it."

No one could answer, and Nansen cut the cat in two.

That evening Jõshû returned, and Nansen told him of the incident.

Jõshû took off his sandal, placed it on his head, and walked out.

"If you had been there, you would have saved the cat," Nansen remarked.

Mumon's Comment

Tell me, what did Jõshû mean when he put the sandal on his head?

If you can give a turning word on this, you will see that Nansen's decree was carried out with good reason.

If not, "Danger!"

Mumon's Verse

Had Jõshû been there,

He would have done the opposite;

When the sword is snatched away,

Even Nansen begs for his life.

Elliston Roshi in response to my post about "Unity of Body and Mind" wrote a few days ago on this matter : 

Like Nansen in "cutting the cat," we must take actions without regard to consequences to ourselves, and sometimes even without regard to the consequences to others. Otherwise we are paralyzed in the face of reality. This is "right action," but it is not necessarily right as opposed to wrong.

Now, back to Nansen and the cat... Have you ever tried to grab a cat to put medicine drops in his ears, or his mouth ? Let's not even speak of slicing him in two ? Unless the cat knows and trusts you, you are going to have a very hard time catching him to start it, and then, imagining you are able to corner him, you better have some very serious leather gloves and a good mask on your head before you can try this stunt. And a good very sharp sword. 

Actually, a Kendo Armor and a Live Wakizashi would very likely be the perfect combination to try that. 

 

Was Nansen some sort of Ninja ?

I must say I am puzzled by this story, (actually by most of the Mumonkan's stories...) I can relate to Elliston Roshi's post, for it is important to me not to be paralyzed by the fear of doing wrong, and trying to realize Unity of Mind and Body through my practice should help me not screw up too much when acting. 

Still, I don't really get Nansen's point in killing the cat. 

I'll keep trying

Elliston Roshi honors us with his insights on  Zen related posts in this blog. Please do not hesitate to comment and ask for his input.

in Gassho - Thank you Sensei.

13th Century Karate

The name “Karate” originally written 唐手 ("Chinese hand") in Okinawa could also be pronounced “Tode”. It was changed to 空手 ("empty hand") at the beginning of the 20^th

century. 

The main reason for this change was the willingness on the part of most Okinawan Masters, to see Karate become part of Japanese mainstream culture. Gichin Funakoshi, main artisan of the introduction of Karate in Japan, and a student of Zen, writes in one of his books that the change was to remind the Heart Sutra saying : “Form is emptiness, Emptiness is form”.

In the following 13^th century text, translated from Japanese by Trevor Leggett in his book “The Warrior Koans”, “Karate” is mentioned both in relation to Zen and Martial Arts. This is an interesting indication that “Karate” was known by Japanese people in a Martial Arts context way before the introduction of the Okinawan Art on Mainland Japan.

A Koan is a paradoxical riddle given to Disciples of certain Zen sects to meditate upon.

Kamakura Koan No. 44 : Wielding the spear with empty hands

Nanjio Masatomo, a SoJutsu Master of the Spear, went to Kenchoji to sit in meditation, and afterwards spoke with priest Gio about using a spear on horseback. 

Gio said, 'Your Honour is indeed an expert in So Jutsu. But until you understand the method of using the spear with empty hands, you will not grasp the ultimate secret of the way.'

The Teacher added, 'No spear in the hands, no hands on the spear.'

The Spear Master did not get it!

The Teacher said further, 'If you don't understand, your art of the Spear is a little affair of the hands alone.'

In December of 1256 Fukuzumi Hideomi, a government official, was given the koan 'wielding the spear with empty hands'. He wrestled furiously with it to no avail. One evening, exhausted, he crept into a little grotto near the meditation hall, and sat there in meditation, repeating again and again “Kara-Te, Kara-Te (empty hands, empty hands)”.

Another monk heard Hideomi repeating 'Kara-te, Kara-te', and thought he was saying 'Kane-dase, Kane-dase (give some money, give some money)'. He thought it was a robber and raised the alarm. The Jikijitsu (head-priest in charge of the meditation hall) made a quick search around the dojo and found Hideomi.

Hideomi was indeed very ill with tuberculosis, and absorbed as he was with the koan, he had forgotten to eat for several days. He was extremely weak and actually on the brink of death. The Jikijitsu hit him on the head saying, 'Let not this heart be set on any place' and he gave a big Katzu shout.

Hideomi nodded, and quietly died.