Undercover Buddhas

  There’s an old Zen koan about the old Zen master, Linji that goes:  Linji ascended the hall and said, ‘Here in this lump of red flesh there is a True Man with no self. Constantly he goes in and out the gates of your face. If there are any of you who don’t know this for a fact, then look! Look!’ At that time there was a monk who came forward and asked, ‘What is he like — the True Man with no self?’ Linji got down from his chair, seized hold of the monk and said, ‘Speak! Speak!’ The monk was about to say something, whereupon Linji let go of him, shoved him away and said, ‘True Man with no self—  what a shitty ass-wiper!’ Linji then returned to his quarters. The “True Man with no self” is a concept that originates in the ancient taoist philosophy of Zhuangzi . The person with no self is empty, able to incorporate any rank or role they may need to, to be completely in the moment. Linji’s test was to see if any of the monks could respond from such an empty, selfless positio...

  Poetry is better than self-help, Part 1…. ( Blogger’s note: This will be a two-part essay, with part 2 being published on November 6 . )  In his seminal work, Phenomenology of Perception , French philosopher Maurice Merleu-Ponty elucidates, most thoroughly, his idea of the eidos of consciousness, which is a counter to Rene Descartes’ mind-body dualism . For Merleu-Ponty, consciousness is not something separate from the body, an assumption that most people seem to automatically, reflexively hold. Religious folks, for example, believe the mind is really the “spirit” or the “soul,” and at death it separates from the body and flutters off into a metaphysical realm somewhere where it is rewarded or punished for its various deeds and misdeeds. But most non-religious folks also hold the view that the mind and body are ultimately two distinct things. Think about such phrases as “mind over matter” or “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Or think about how the vast majori...

 (Feel free to read Part 1 and Part 2 before proceeding.) It was mid-winter when Sheng-Guang finally made it back to Hu-Lao. The air was as cold and damp as he imagined Li-Dai’s heart to be. The first thing he did, though, was put out feelers about Li-Dai’s fate, and soon learned that Ying-Han had continued to work his way up the administrative hierarchy, and had recently gotten promoted from Constable of the prefect to Diplomat for the western region. He and Li-Dai had been moved to Sichuan province, where Ying-Han would have opportunities to mingle with the Turks and Uyghurs for the benefit of the empire. In short, Li-Dai was long gone. After receiving the news, Sheng-Guang made haste to Mount Song. It had begun to snow when he reached Ta-Mo’s cave two days later. The flakes were thick and lazy, and the air was full of them fluttering like infinite white butterflies, and through them he saw Ta-Mo, in his cave, seated in the lotus position, thick red robe and hood on, his red b...

Nine years after Ta-Mo began his wall-gazing, Sheng-Guang, in a crazed, desperate state, had heard rumors of a barbarian Buddhist who had “talked mad shit” to Emperor Wu of Liang, and who had spent most of the subsequent decade staring at a wall in a cave near Mount Song, talking to no one, eating and sleeping very little, and who supposedly possessed a magical gaze that could burrow imprints into rock walls. Born in Hu-Lao , only a three day walk from Mount Song , Sheng-Guang had been well-versed in Taoist and Buddhist ways of thought. He had begun his studies in his late teens after an affair with the maiden, Li-Dai had gone awry. Li-Dai and Sheng-Guang had been soulmates, or, at least that’s what Sheng-Guang had thought, and he thought Li-Dai had thought as much too. However, Li-Dai’s father had already committed her to marriage to the constable of the prefecture, Ying-Han. Ying-Han was the latest in a long line of Ying men who occupied enviable administrative positions in the Nort...