Jundo wishes it to be noted that this is the work of a recently ordained novice priest and, as such, is not to be taken as a teaching but a personal reflection. Please take these words with a large grain of salt.
A while ago I wrote this haiku:
fallen branch
the second ancestor stands
before Daruma
This alludes to a famous incident which is supposed to have happened between Bodhidharma (Daruma) the man said to have brought Buddhism to China, and his student and dharma successor, Huike. Since Bodhidharma was the first person to teach the way of Ch’an, he is called the first Zen patriarch. As his successor, Huike is the second patriarch or ancestor. There are six great Zen ancestors, the third, fourth, fifth and sixth being Sengcan, Daoxin, Hongren and Huineng, respectively.
After a not so great meeting with Emperor Wu, Bodhidharma is said to have headed to a Shaolin monastery in southern China. Refused entry, he spent the next nine years meditating facing the wall in a nearby cave.
Huike (then called Shen-kuang) was a great scholar both of Buddhist and Taoist texts but realised he needed a teacher to go deeper. He found Bodhidharma in his cave and, standing up to his waist in snow, asked to be taught. Bodhidharma refused to teach him initially and left Huike out in the cold, probably wondering what he had to do for Bodhidharma to acknowledge him.
In order to prove his seriousness, Huike is said to have cut off one of his arms and hand it to Bodhidharma, at which point the first ancestor agrees to take him on as a student. My haiku verse uses the phrase ‘fallen branch’ to refer to Huike’s severed limb as well as the fact that both Bodhidharma and Zen itself have fallen away from the main trunk of Indian Buddhism.
I had not thought about the story in a while until I came across this picture in D T Suzuki’s second volume of Essays in Zen Buddhism:
'Huike Offering His Arm to Bodhidharma’ by Sesshū Tōyō, 1496
Suzuki’s commentary on the picture notes that while some historians doubt the reality of this event happening, the story of Huike’s arm was already in circulation in the seventh century rather than being a later invention. Tao-hsüan wrote in Biographies of Eminent Priests in 645, that he believed that Huike lost his arm during an attack by a highwayman.
Having a knowledge of modern historical research we know that accounts of religious figures tend to be more hagiography than biography or, at the very least, embellished to a large degree. Whether or not they actually happened, Zen stories are designed to convey a truth about life and practice. So, what is this tale about?
Can you imagine being so desperate to practice that you willingly cut off your own arm? For Huike, the thought of going away from Bodhidharma without being accepted as a student was so great that this is the path he took.
In modern Zen, a teacher is highly unlikely to be so demanding, yet students are still forced to wait outside of Eiheiji and Sojiji temples in Japan to test their resolve. Do they really have the determination to practice or just an idea that they might like to be a Zen master?
In our practice we all make sacrifices. At the very least this will be the time it takes to sit daily, almost certainly some money to buy a zafu, books and go on retreat, and very likely changing our ethical behaviour to accord with the Buddha way and Bodhisattva vows.
Cutting off your own arm to demonstrate your dedication seems too far for most of us yet we may have willingly transformed the direction of our life in the pursuit of Zen practice. Is this any less of a sacrifice?
Probably, what we have been willing to give has increased incrementally, beginning with a few minutes set aside for practice and then time to study the precepts, buying material to sew a rakusu and learning how to do that, joining in with discussions and three months of Ango and so forth. Hopefully, these are all sacrifices we are willing to make but sometimes they conflict with other demands on our life – demands of family, things we want, socialising with friends, being able to gossip freely and engage in behaviour that is less than ethical. What do we do at those moments? Do we go back to old ways because it is easier or acknowledge the sacrifice we are being asked to make to follow our heart?
For me, what the story of Huike and Bodhidharma is asking is when the chips are down and push comes to shove, how much are we willing to give up to practice Zen and be true to ourselves – time, money, conflict, an arm or even your life?
A while ago I wrote this haiku:
fallen branch
the second ancestor stands
before Daruma
This alludes to a famous incident which is supposed to have happened between Bodhidharma (Daruma) the man said to have brought Buddhism to China, and his student and dharma successor, Huike. Since Bodhidharma was the first person to teach the way of Ch’an, he is called the first Zen patriarch. As his successor, Huike is the second patriarch or ancestor. There are six great Zen ancestors, the third, fourth, fifth and sixth being Sengcan, Daoxin, Hongren and Huineng, respectively.
After a not so great meeting with Emperor Wu, Bodhidharma is said to have headed to a Shaolin monastery in southern China. Refused entry, he spent the next nine years meditating facing the wall in a nearby cave.
Huike (then called Shen-kuang) was a great scholar both of Buddhist and Taoist texts but realised he needed a teacher to go deeper. He found Bodhidharma in his cave and, standing up to his waist in snow, asked to be taught. Bodhidharma refused to teach him initially and left Huike out in the cold, probably wondering what he had to do for Bodhidharma to acknowledge him.
In order to prove his seriousness, Huike is said to have cut off one of his arms and hand it to Bodhidharma, at which point the first ancestor agrees to take him on as a student. My haiku verse uses the phrase ‘fallen branch’ to refer to Huike’s severed limb as well as the fact that both Bodhidharma and Zen itself have fallen away from the main trunk of Indian Buddhism.
I had not thought about the story in a while until I came across this picture in D T Suzuki’s second volume of Essays in Zen Buddhism:
'Huike Offering His Arm to Bodhidharma’ by Sesshū Tōyō, 1496
Suzuki’s commentary on the picture notes that while some historians doubt the reality of this event happening, the story of Huike’s arm was already in circulation in the seventh century rather than being a later invention. Tao-hsüan wrote in Biographies of Eminent Priests in 645, that he believed that Huike lost his arm during an attack by a highwayman.
Having a knowledge of modern historical research we know that accounts of religious figures tend to be more hagiography than biography or, at the very least, embellished to a large degree. Whether or not they actually happened, Zen stories are designed to convey a truth about life and practice. So, what is this tale about?
Can you imagine being so desperate to practice that you willingly cut off your own arm? For Huike, the thought of going away from Bodhidharma without being accepted as a student was so great that this is the path he took.
In modern Zen, a teacher is highly unlikely to be so demanding, yet students are still forced to wait outside of Eiheiji and Sojiji temples in Japan to test their resolve. Do they really have the determination to practice or just an idea that they might like to be a Zen master?
In our practice we all make sacrifices. At the very least this will be the time it takes to sit daily, almost certainly some money to buy a zafu, books and go on retreat, and very likely changing our ethical behaviour to accord with the Buddha way and Bodhisattva vows.
Cutting off your own arm to demonstrate your dedication seems too far for most of us yet we may have willingly transformed the direction of our life in the pursuit of Zen practice. Is this any less of a sacrifice?
Probably, what we have been willing to give has increased incrementally, beginning with a few minutes set aside for practice and then time to study the precepts, buying material to sew a rakusu and learning how to do that, joining in with discussions and three months of Ango and so forth. Hopefully, these are all sacrifices we are willing to make but sometimes they conflict with other demands on our life – demands of family, things we want, socialising with friends, being able to gossip freely and engage in behaviour that is less than ethical. What do we do at those moments? Do we go back to old ways because it is easier or acknowledge the sacrifice we are being asked to make to follow our heart?
For me, what the story of Huike and Bodhidharma is asking is when the chips are down and push comes to shove, how much are we willing to give up to practice Zen and be true to ourselves – time, money, conflict, an arm or even your life?
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