Number of words: 440
In spite of its rather special character, Zen is purely Buddhistic. in its essence, because its aim is no other than that of the Buddha himself: the attainment of enlightenment, an experience known in Zen as satori. The enlightenment experience is the essence of all schools of Eastern philosophy, but Zen is unique in that it concentrates exclusively on this experience and is not interested in any further interpretations. In the words of Suzuki, ‘Zen is discipline in enlightenment.’ From the standpoint of Zen, the awakening of the Buddha and the Buddha’s teaching that everybody has the potential of attaining this awakening are the essence of Buddhism. The rest of the doctrine, as expounded in the voluminous sutras, is seen as supplementary.
More than any other school of Eastern mysticism, Zen is convinced that words can never express the ultimate truth. It must have inherited this conviction from Taoism, which showed the same uncompromising attitude. ‘If one asks about the Tao and another answers him,’ said Chuang Tzu, ‘neither of them knows it.” Yet the Zen experience can be passed on from teacher to pupil, and it has, in fact, been transmitted for many centuries by special methods proper to Zen.
It is typical of the Japanese mind which is more intuitive than intellectual and likes to give out facts as facts without much comment. The Zen masters were not given to verbosity and despised all theorizing and speculation. Thus they developed methods of pointing directly to the truth, with sudden and spontaneous actions or words, which expose the paradoxes of conceptual thinking and, like the koans I have already mentioned, are meant to stop the thought process to make the student ready for the mystical experience. This technique is well illustrated by the following examples of short conversations between master and disciple. In these conversations, which make up most of the Zen literature, the masters talk as little as possible and use their words to shift the disciples’ attention from abstract thoughts to the concrete reality.
A monk, asking for instruction, said to Bodhidharma: ‘I have no peace of mind. Please pacify my mind.’
‘Bring your mind here before me’, replied Bodhidharma, ‘and I will pacify it !’
‘But when I seek my own mind,’ said the monk, ‘I cannot find it.’
‘There!’ snapped Bodhidharma, ‘I have pacified your mind !‘
A monk told Joshu: ‘I have just entered the monastery. Please teach me.’
Joshu asked: ‘Have you eaten your rice porridge?
The monk replied: ‘I have eaten.’
Joshu said: ‘Then you had better wash your bowl.’
Excerpted from Pages 122-123 of ‘The Tao of Physics’ by Fritjof Capra