KUNG-AN PRACTICE | Getting The Buddha Mind

When your practice reaches a certain level, and I perceive that your mind has settled to a degree that you are ready for hard work, I may give you a kung-an to meditate on. I may ask you to meditate on “What is Wu?” or “What is my original face?”; or some other classical saying, or I may make one up. At that point, if you are to get some genuine results on this retreat, you must make finding the answer to that kung-an your life’s work. Don’t reflect on it, or try to reason out an answer. You’ll never get it that way. You must work on it as if chewing on nails. You must use it to form in your mind a hot ball of doubt that will drive you to find the answer.

I will now say some things about kung-ans that will help your understanding of its practice. The kung-ans that have been handed down consist of sayings, instructions, and dialogues of Ch’an masters and their students. The word “sayings” implies more than verbal communication, for sometimes the master presented a kung-an without saying anything. The recorded sayings and actions hint at, but do not directly reveal, the meaning of the kung-ans, which can only be intuited by direct experience.

To one who does not understand their special quality, kung-ans may seem to be a dialogue between insane, or at least, eccentric people. Generally the kung-ans which are most clear are the most shallow, while the ones which are most obscure are the deepest. In fact, the different classes of kung-ans reflect the different levels of enlightenment.

Can a disciple discern the levels of enlightenment, and will his Shih-fu know when he has gone deeper? Certainly, if a student has made some genuine progress, the feeling will be very distinct. It’s as distinct as the difference between night and day. The student should know if he has made a genuine step. Of course, his Shih-fu should be able to tell also. Otherwise he is not a very good master. Furthermore, someone who has had deep experiences can usually tell that one kung-an belongs to a certain level and another to a different level. Even within the same kung-an, the phrases and sentences may reveal different levels of meaning.
One who has worked hard enough to get to the door of Ch’an knows not what he eats, can’t see what’s before him, hears nothing, needs no sleep. Until he enters, this stage is called “ignoring reality.” After he enters the door for the first time, he returns to a more normal mental state. Any feelings of pride or inferiority he had before will be greatly diminished.

In one kung-an the question is asked: “What are nuns?” And the answer given is “Nuns are women.” This is a common sense, straightforward answer. If it comes from an average person there’s nothing strange about it, but if it comes from one who has practiced very hard and entered the door of Ch’an, then it actually indicates some level of enlightenment. But it is not necessarily a deep level of enlightenment. One student, after a lot of hard work, finally got through the door. I asked her, “Where are you?” She answered, “I am here.” “What are you sitting on?” “I’m sitting on a chair.” This is not deep enlightenment, but she has entered the door of Ch’an. She has gone from “ignoring reality” to a more normal state.

To another student, to whom I had given a kung-an, I said, “If you give me the same answer as last year, I’m going to give you a beating.” Last year, I held up the incense board and asked her, “What is this?” She had answered, “An incense board.” This year, sure enough, she gave me the same answer, so I hit her. At the next interview, I held up the incense board again, and asked her, “What is this?” This time she was hesitant and afraid. She thought for a while and said, “It’s Buddha nature.” Hearing this, I just hit her with the stick.

Common sense says it is an incense board. From that point of view she was correct the first time. From the Buddhist point of view, to say it is Buddha-nature is also correct. However, her answers did not come spontaneously from her practice, and she deserved a beating.

Another student, after working hard for a few days, came in for an interview. I picked up a wild flower and asked him, “What is this?” He answered, “A flower.” “What color is it?” “Yellow.” I gave him a beating, and he became very resentful, saying that it was indeed a yellow flower. So I hit him again, and said, “This is neither a flower nor yellow.” After working hard for another day and a half without sleep, he came in for another interview. This time I held up a dry twig. He took the twig from me then handed it back, saying, “I have nothing to say.” I said, “Make three prostrations, ” thus indicating to him that he had achieved a level of comprehension.

These are living kung-ans, as distinct from the classical sayings that have been handed down. Some may understand the meaning behind the actions. To others they may just appear crazy and nonsensical. However, a student should not hope that he can pretend to be crazy and get my approval. There’s really no way to pretend. If you try to, as soon as you come in, I’ll chase you out. A while back a student came to see me. Looking me boldly in the eye, he said, “Test me.” Again, I just looked at him and he lowered his head. I told him, “You have courage but you’re lazy. You’ll have to work a lot harder to enter the door.”

In the previous kung-an I told that student that a yellow flower was neither a flower nor yellow. In this respect I am not a very good Shih-fu because, having said this, I saved him years of hard work. Afterwards I asked him, “Was it easy for you to enter the door?” He answered, “No.” “Would it have been possible without Shih-fu?” “Impossible.” Actually I have been generous to students, giving them hints and guidelines to help them enter the door quickly, to give them some small taste of Ch’an. The levels these students have reached however, are actually very shallow. Therefore, I constantly remind them of this and warn them against pride. Even though their faith is established, they will regress unless they continue to practice hard.

On the sixth day of a retreat I gave another student a hint which actually was taken from a remark by a Reverend Jih-Chang, who was helping me with the retreat: “An egg and a rock knocked against each other; the rock was broken and the egg remained whole.” Unfortunately, the student was unable to make use of this hint to reach a deeper level. Another example of this type of kung-an is: “A man is walking on a bridge; the bridge flows but the water is still.” This type is somewhat puzzling, but if we were to go up another level, the kung-ans would again become very normal.

So the practice on retreat should proceed as follows. You begin at the normal, everyday level. After working hard you enter a stage where everything suddenly becomes abnormal. Then, after a life and death struggle, you enter the door of Ch’an and again see everything as normal. But don’t be misled; this “normal” is quite different from the “normal” of the man on the street. At this point the practitioner’s mind is quite clear, but he should press onward until he reaches a higher abnormal stage. Kung-ans such as “Where am I?” represent the normal stage just after entering the door, whereas the “egg and the rock” type of kung-an represents the second abnormal stage. This is followed by still deeper abnormal stages. Ch’an masters have used various ways to chart the stages of progress one should pass through. Some speak of passing three major barriers, others set up four stages, but these are just rough classifications. Generally speaking, a person will go through tens or even hundreds of changes from abnormal to normal, from negation to affirmation, before reaching perfection. If you want to accomplish this in one lifetime, you must genuinely practice very hard every moment.

How can practicing Ch’an change your perceptions and attitudes? It can by using great pressure to uncover and completely utilize your hidden mental power. It’s like physical power. We know we have a lot of hidden physical power that can be used in extreme situations. For example, a person being chased by a tiger may suddenly find the strength to run faster than he normally could. Things like this happen. You don’t know where the strength comes from, but you somehow find it when you need it. Similarly, Ch’an is a method for putting a student in a desperate mental situation, forcing him to use his hidden power to save himself.

To reach this stage, a student must first attain a certain degree of concentration. Without it, he can’t even begin to practice Ch’an. Then he must advance to a samadhi-like stage, which we call “meditation.” When your mind is powerfully concentrated, and free of stray thoughts, you are ready to t’san ch’an, or “investigate Ch’an, ” to practice kung-an.

The spirit of kung-an is that mind and Dharma are one. What is Dharma? Dharma is what the Buddha experienced when he became fully enlightened. It cannot be described. It is everywhere: it is everything. Mind and Dharma must be in harmony to generate the power leading to enlightenment. The kung-ans may seem absurd, but their underlying meanings correspond to the Dharma, issue from Dharma, because the master’s mind is one with Dharma. This is why it is so important to have a Shih-fu, a teacher, who represents the living Dharma. On retreat, I tell my students to prostrate to their Shih-fu in gratitude. I then ask them, “Are you prostrating to Sheng-Yen or to Shih-fu?” They reply, “To Shih-fu.” There is nothing special about Sheng-Yen. It is only in his role as Shih-fu that he represents the Dharma. When Dharma, Shih-fu, and student are harmonized, the student becomes enlightened.

PREVIOUS: THE FOUR GREAT BARRIERS | Getting The Buddha Mind
NEXT: THE EXPERIENCE OF WU | Getting The Buddha Mind