Taoism and Zennism

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Taoism and Zennism

 

The connection of Zennism with tea is proverbial. We have already

remarked that the tea-ceremony was a development of the Zen ritual.

The name of Laotse, the founder of Taoism, is also intimately

associated with the history of tea. It is written in the Chinese

school manual concerning the origin of habits and customs that the

ceremony of offering tea to a guest began with Kwanyin, a well-known

disciple of Laotse, who first at the gate of the Han Pass presented

to the " Old Philosopher " a cup of the golden elixir. We shall not

stop to discuss the authenticity of such tales, which are valuable,

however, as eon firming the early use of the beverage by the Taoists.

Our interest in Taoism and Zennism here lies mainly in those ideas

regarding life and art which are so embodied in what we call Teaism.

 

It is to be regretted that as yet there appears to be no adequate

presentation of the Taoists and Zen doctrines in any foreign

language, though we have had several laudable attempts.1

 

Translation is always a treason, and as a Ming author observes, can

at its best be only the reverse side of a brocade, – all the threads

are there, but not the subtlety of colour or design. But, after all,

what great doctrine is there which is easy to expound? The ancient

sages never put their teachings in systematic form. They spoke in

paradoxes, for they were afraid of uttering half-truths. They began

by talking like fools and ended by making their hearers wise. Laotse

himself, with his quaint humour, says, " If people of inferior

intelligence hear of the Tao, they laugh immensely. It would not be

the Tao unless they laughed at it. "

 

The Tao literally means a Path. It has been severally translated as

the Way, the Absolute, the Law, Nature, Supreme Reason, the Mode.

These renderings are not incorrect, for the use of the term by the

Taoists differs according to the subject-matter of the inquiry.

Laotse himself spoke of it thus: " There is a thing which is all-

containing, which was born before the existence of Heaven and Earth.

How silent! How solitary! It stands alone and changes not. It

revolves without danger to itself and is the mother of the universe.

I do not know its name and so call it the Path. With reluctance I

call it the Infinite. Infinity is the Fleeting, the Fleeting is the

Vanishing, the Vanishing is the Reverting. " The Tao is in the Passage

rather than the Path. It is the spirit of Cosmic Change, – the

eternal growth which returns upon itself to produce new forms. It

recoils upon itself like the dragon, the beloved symbol of the

Taoists. It folds and unfolds as do the clouds. The Tao might be

spoken of as the Great Transition. Subjectively it is the Mood of the

Universe. Its Absolute is the Relative.

 

It should be remembered in the first place that Taoism, like its

legitimate successor Zennism, represents the individualistic trend of

the Southern Chinese mind in contra-distinction to the communism of

Northern China which expressed itself in Confucianism. The Middle

Kingdom is as vast as Europe and has a differentiation of

idiosyncrasies marked by the two great river systems which traverse

it. The Yangste-Kiang and Hoang-Ho are respectively the Mediterranean

and the Baltic. Even to-day, in spite of centuries of unification,

the Southern Celestial differs in his thoughts and beliefs from his

Northern brother as a member of the Latin race differs from the

Teuton. In ancient days, when communication was even more difficult

than at present, and especially during the feudal period, this

difference in thought was most pronounced. The art and poetry of the

one breathes an atmosphere entirely distinct from that of the other.

In Laotse and his followers and in Kutsugen, the forerunner of the

Yangtse-Kiang nature-poets, we find an idealism quite inconsistent

with the prosate ethical notions of their contemporary northern

writers. Laotse lived five centuries before the Christian Era.

 

The germ of Taoist speculation may be found long before the advent of

Laotse, surnamed the Long-Eared. The archaic records of China,

especially the Book of Changes, foreshadow his thought. But the great

respect paid to the laws and customs of that classic period of

Chinese civilisation which culminated with the establishment of the

Chow dynasty in the sixteenth century B.C., kept the development of

individualism in check for a long while, so that it was not until

after the disintegration of the Chow dynasty and the establishment of

innumerable independent kingdoms that it was able to blossom forth in

the luxuriance of free-thought. Laotse and Soshi (Chuangtse) were

both Southerners and the greatest exponents of the New School. On the

other hand Confucius with his numerous disciples aimed at retaining

ancestral conventions. Taoism cannot be understood without some

knowledge of Confucianism and vice versa.

 

We have said that the Taoist Absolute was the Relative. In ethics the

Taoist railed at the laws and the moral codes of society, for to them

right and wrong were but relative terms. Definition is always

limitation – the " fixed " and " unchangeless " are but terms expressive

of a stoppage of growth. Said Kuzugen, – " The Sages move the world. "

Our standards of morality are begotten of the past needs of society,

but is society to remain always the same? The observance of communal

traditions involves a constant sacrifice of the individual to the

state. Education, in order to keep up the mighty delusion, encourages

a species of ignorance. People are not taught to be really virtuous,

but to behave properly. We are wicked because we are frightfully self-

conscious. We never forgive others because we know that we ourselves

are in the wrong. We nurse a conscience because we are afraid to tell

the truth to others; we take refuge in pride because we are afraid to

tell the truth to ourselves. How can one be serious with the world

when the world itself is so ridiculous! The spirit of barter is

everywhere. Honour and Chastity! Behold the complacent salesman

retailing the Good and True. One can even buy a so-called Religion,

which is really but common morality sanctified with flowers and

music. Rob the Church of her accessories and what remains behind? Yet

the trusts thrive marvellously, for the prices are absurdly cheap, –

a prayer for a ticket to heaven, a diploma for an honourable

citizenship. Hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real

usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to

the highest bidder by the public auctioneer. Why do men and women

like to advertise themselves so much? Is it not but an instinct

derived from the days of slavery?

 

The virility of the idea lies not less in its power of breaking

through contemporary thought than in its capacity for dominating

subsequent movements. Taoism was an active power during the Shin

dynasty, that epoch of Chinese unification from which we derive the

name China. It would be interesting had we time to note its influence

on contemporary thinkers, the mathematicians, writers on law and war,

the mystics and alchemists and the later nature-poets of the Yangste-

Kiang. We should not even ignore those speculators on Reality who

doubted whether a white horse was real because he was white, or

because he was solid, nor the Conversationalists of the Six dynasties

who, like the Zen philosophers, revelled in discussions concerning

the Pure and the Abstract. Above all we should pay homage to Taoism

for what it has done toward the formation of the Celestial character,

giving to it a certain capacity for reserve and refinement as " warm

as jade. " Chinese history is full of instances in which the votaries

of Taoism, princes and hermits alike, followed with varied and

interesting results the teachings of their creed. The tale will not

be without its quota of instruction and amusement. It will be rich in

anecdotes, allegories, and aphorisms. We would fain be on speaking

terms with the delightful emperor who never died because he never

lived. We may ride the wind with Liehtse and find it absolutely quiet

because we ourselves are the wind, or dwell in mid-air with the Aged

One of the Hoang-Ho, who lived betwixt Heaven and Earth because he

was subject to neither the one nor the other. Even in that grotesque

apology for Taoism which we find in China at the present day, we can

revel in a wealth of imagery impossible to find in any other cult.

 

But the chief contribution of Taoism to Asiatic life has been in the

realm of aesthetics. Chinese historians have always spoken of Taoism

as the " art of being in the world, " for it deals with the present –

ourselves. It is in us that God meets with Nature, and yesterday

parts from to-morrow. The Present is the moving Infinity, the

legitimate sphere of the Relative. Relativity seeks Adjustment;

Adjustment is Art. The art of life lies in a constant readjustment to

our surroundings. Taoism accepts the mundane as it is and, unlike the

Confucians and the Buddhists, tries to find beauty in our world of

woe and worry. The Sung allegory of the Three Vinegar Tasters

explains admirably the trend of the three doctrines. Sakyamuni,

Confucius, and Laotse once stood before a jar of vinegar – the emblem

of life – and each dipped in his finger to taste the brew. The matter-

of-fact Confucius found it sour, the Buddha called it bitter, and

Laotse pronounced it sweet.

 

The Taoists claimed that the comedy of life could be made more

interesting if everyone would preserve the unities. To keep the

proportion of things and give place to others without losing one's

own position was the secret of success in the mundane drama. We must

know the whole play in order to properly act our parts; the

conception of totality must never be lost in that of the individual.

This Laotse illustrates by his favourite metaphor of the Vacuum. He

claimed that only in vacuum lay the truly essential. The reality of a

room, for instance, was to be found in the vacant space enclosed by

the roof and walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. The

usefulness of a water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where water

might be put, not in the form of the pitcher or the material of which

it was made. Vacuum is all potent because all containing. In vacuum

alone motion becomes possible. One who could make of himself a vacuum

into which others might freely enter would become master of all

situations. The whole can always dominate the part.

 

These Taoists' ideas have greatly influenced all our theories of

action, even to those of fencing and wrestling. Jiujitsu, the

Japanese art of self-defence, owes its name to a passage in the

Taoteiking. In jiu-jitsu one seeks to draw out and exhaust the

enemy's strength by non-resistance, vacuum, while conserving one's

own strength for victory in the final struggle. In art the importance

of the same principle is illustrated by the value of suggestion. In

leaving something unsaid the beholder is given a chance to complete

the idea and thus a great masterpiece irresistibly rivets your

attention until you seem to become actually a part of it. A vacuum is

there for you to enter and fill up to the full measure of your

aesthetic emotion.

 

He who had made himself master of the art of living was the Real Man

of the Taoist. At birth he enters the realm of dreams only to awaken

to reality at death. He tempers his own brightness in order to merge

himself into the obscurity of others. He is " reluctant, as one who

crosses a stream in winter; hesitating as one who fears the

neighbourhood; respectful, like a guest; trembling, like ice that is

about to melt; unassuming, like a piece of wood not yet carved;

vacant, like a valley; formless, like troubled waters. " To him the

three jewels of life were Pity, Economy, and Modesty.

 

If now we turn our attention to Zennism we shall find that it

emphasises the teachings of Taoism. Zen is a name derived from the

Sanserif word Dhyana, which signifies meditation. It claims that

through consecrated meditation may be attained supreme self-

realisation. Meditation is one of the six ways through which

Buddhahood may be reached, and the Zen sectarians affirm that

Sakyamuni laid special stress on this method in his later teachings,

handing down the rules to his chief disciple Kashiapa. According to

their tradition Kashiapa, the first Zen patriarch, imparted the

secret to Ananda, who in turn passed it on to successive patriarchs

until it reached Bodhi-Dharma, the twenty-eighth. Bodhi-Dharma came

to Northern China in the early half of the sixth century and was the

first patriarch of Chinese Zen. There is much uncertainty about the

history of these patriarchs and their doctrines. In its philosophical

aspect early Zennism seems to have affinity on one hand to the Indian

Negativism of Nagarjuna and on the other to the Gnan philosophy

formulated by Sancharacharya. The first teaching of Zen as we know it

at the present day must be attributed to the sixth Chinese patriarch

Yeno (637-713), founder of Southern Zen, so-called from the fact of

its predominance in Southern China. He is closely followed by the

great Baso (died 788) who made of Zen a living influence in Celestial

life. Hiakujo (719-814) the pupil of Baso, first instituted the Zen

monastery and established a ritual and regulations for its

government. In the discussions of the Zen school after the time of

Baso we find the play of the Yangtse-Kiang mind causing an accession

of native modes of thought in contrast to the former Indian idealism.

Whatever sectarian pride may assert to the contrary one cannot help

being impressed by the similarity of Southern Zen to the teachings of

Laotse and the Taoist Conversationalists. In the Taoteiking we

already find allusions to the importance of self-concentration and

the need of properly regulating the breath – essential points in the

practice of Zen meditation. Some of the best commentaries on the Book

of Laotse have been written by Zen scholars.

 

Zennism, like Taoism, is the worship of Relativity. One master

defines Zen as the art of feeling the polar star in the southern sky.

Truth can be reached only through the comprehension of opposites.

Again, Zennism, like Taoism, is a strong advocate of individualism.

Nothing is real except that which concerns the working of our own

minds. Yeno, the sixth patriarch, once saw two monks watching the

flag of a pagoda fluttering in the wind. One said " It is the wind

that moves, " the other said " It is the flag that moves " ; but Yeno

explained to them that the real movement was neither of the wind nor

the flag, but of something within their own minds. Hiakujo was

walking in the forest with a disciple when a hare scurried off at

their approach. " Why does the hare fly from you? " asked

Hiakujo. " Because he is afraid of me, " was the answer. " No, " said the

master, " it is because you have a murderous instinct. " This dialogue

recalls that of Soshi (Chauntse), the Taoist. One day Soshi was

walking on the bank of a river with a friend. " How delightfully the

fishes are enjoying themselves in the water! " exclaimed Soshi. His

friend spake to him thus: " You are not a fish; how do you know that

the fishes are enjoying themselves? " " You are not myself, " returned

Soshi; " how do you know that I do not know that the fishes are

enjoying themselves? "

 

Zen was often opposed to the precepts of orthodox Buddhism even as

Taoism was opposed to Confucianism. To the transcendental insight of

the Zen, words were but an incumbrance to thought; the whole sway of

Buddhist scriptures only commentaries on personal speculation. The

followers of Zen aimed at direct communion with the inner nature of

things, regarding their outward accessories only as impediments to a

clear perception of Truth. It was this love of the Abstract that led

the Zen to prefer black and white sketches to the elaborately

coloured paintings of the classic Buddhist School. Some of the Zen

even became iconoclastic as a result of their endeavour to recognise

the Buddha in themselves rather than through images and symbolism. We

find Tankawosho breaking up a wooden statue of Buddha on a wintry day

to make a fire. " What sacrilege! " said the horror-stricken

bystander. " I wish to get the Shali2 out of the ashes, " calmly

rejoined the Zen. " But you certainly will not get Shali from this

image! " was the angry retort, to which Tanka replied, " If I do not,

this is certainly not a Buddha and I am committing no sacrilege. "

Then he turned to warm himself over the kindling fire.

 

A special contribution of Zen to Eastern thought was its recognition

of the mundane as of equal importance with the spiritual. It held

that in the great relation of things there was no distinction of

small and great, an atom possessing equal possibilities with the

universe. The seeker for perfection must discover in his own life the

reflection of the inner light. The organisation of the Zen monastery

was very significant of this point of view. To every member, except

the abbot, was assigned some special work in the care-taking of the

monastery, and curiously enough, to the novices were committed the

lighter duties, while to the most respected and advanced monks were

given the more irksome and menial tasks. Such services formed a part

of the Zen discipline and every least action must be done absolutely

perfectly. Thus many a weighty discussion ensued while weeding the

garden, paring a turnip, or serving tea. The whole ideal of Teaism is

a result of this Zen conception of greatness in the smallest

incidents of life. Taoism furnished the basis for aesthetic ideals,

Zennism made them practical.

 

Taoism and Zennism

www.kellscraft.com/bookoftea/bookofteach3.html

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1 We should like to call attention to Dr. Paul Carus's admirable

translation of the 'Taotei King.' The Open Court Publishing Company,

Chicago, 1808.

 

2 The precious jewels formed in the bodies of Buddhas after

cremation.