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Ikkyu and Skeletons

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Students, sit earnestly in zazen, and you will realize that

everything born in this world is ultimately empty, including oneself

and the original face of existence. All things indeed emerge out of

emptiness. The original formlessness is the " Buddha, " and all other

similar terms -- Buddha-nature, Buddhahood, Buddha-mind, Awakened

One, Patriarch, God -- are merely different express- ions for the

same emptiness. Misunderstand this and you will end up in hell.

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One night . . . a pitiful -looking skeleton appeared and said these

words:

 

A melancholy autumn wind

Blows through the world;

The pampas grass waves,

As we drift to the moor,

Drift to the sea.

 

What can be done

With the mind of a man

That should be clear

But though he is dressed up in a monk's robe,

Just lets life pass him by?

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Toward dawn I dozed off, and in my dream I found myself surrounded by

a group of skeletons . . . . One skeleton came over to me and said:

 

Memories

Flee and

Are no more.

All are empty dreams

Devoid of meaning.

 

Violate the reality of things

And babble about

" God " and " the Buddha "

And you will never find

the true Way.

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

I liked this skeleton . . . . He saw things clearly, just as they

are. I lay there with the wind in the pines whispering in my ears and

the autumn moonlight dancing across my face.

 

What is not a dream? Who will not end up as a skeleton? We appear as

skeletons covered with skin -- male and female -- and lust after each

other. When the breath expires, though, the skin ruptures, sex

disappears, and there is no more high or low. Underneath the skin of

the person we fondle and caress right now is nothing more than a set

of bare bones. Think about it -- high and low, young and old, male

and female, all are the same. Awaken to this one great matter and you

will immediately comprehend the meaning of " unborn and undying. "

 

If chunks of rock

Can serve as a memento

To the dead,

A better headstone

Would be a simple tea-mortar.

 

Humans are indeed frightful beings.

A single moon

Bright and clear

In an unclouded sky;

Yet still we stumble

In the world's darkness.

 

Have a good look -- stop the breath, peel off the skin, and everybody

ends up looking the same. No matter how long you live the result is

not altered[even for emperors]. Cast off the notion that " I exist. "

Entrust yourself to the wind-blown clouds, and do not wish to live

for ever.

 

This world

Is but

A fleeting dream

So why by alarmed

At its evanescence?

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The vagaries of life,

Though painful

Teach us

Not to cling

To this floating world.

 

Why do people

Lavish decorations

On this set of bones

Destined to disappear

Without a trace?

 

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

No one really knows

The nature of birth

Nor the true dwelling place.

We return to the source

And turn to dust.

 

Many paths lead from the foot of the mountain,

But at the peak

We all gaze at the

Single bright moon.

 

If at the end of our journey

There is no final

Resting place,

Then we need not fear

Losing our Way.

 

No beginning,

No end.

Our mind

is born and dies:

The emptiness of emptiness!

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Rain, hail, snow and ice:

All are different,

But when they fall

They become the same water

As the valley stream.

 

The ways of proclaiming

The Mind vary,

But the same heavenly truth

Can be seen

In each and every one.

 

Cover your path

With the fallen pine needles

So no one will be able

To locate your

True dwelling place.

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Guest guest

Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 " <Roberibus111

wrote:

>

> Students, sit earnestly in zazen, and you will realize that

> everything born in this world is ultimately empty, including oneself

> and the original face of existence. All things indeed emerge out of

> emptiness. The original formlessness is the " Buddha, " and all other

> similar terms -- Buddha-nature, Buddhahood, Buddha-mind, Awakened

> One, Patriarch, God -- are merely different express- ions for the

> same emptiness. Misunderstand this and you will end up in hell.

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

> One night . . . a pitiful -looking skeleton appeared and said these

> words:

>

> A melancholy autumn wind

> Blows through the world;

> The pampas grass waves,

> As we drift to the moor,

> Drift to the sea.

>

> What can be done

> With the mind of a man

> That should be clear

> But though he is dressed up in a monk's robe,

> Just lets life pass him by?

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

>

> Toward dawn I dozed off, and in my dream I found myself surrounded by

> a group of skeletons . . . . One skeleton came over to me and said:

>

> Memories

> Flee and

> Are no more.

> All are empty dreams

> Devoid of meaning.

>

> Violate the reality of things

> And babble about

> " God " and " the Buddha "

> And you will never find

> the true Way.

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

>

> I liked this skeleton . . . . He saw things clearly, just as they

> are. I lay there with the wind in the pines whispering in my ears and

> the autumn moonlight dancing across my face.

>

> What is not a dream? Who will not end up as a skeleton? We appear as

> skeletons covered with skin -- male and female -- and lust after each

> other. When the breath expires, though, the skin ruptures, sex

> disappears, and there is no more high or low. Underneath the skin of

> the person we fondle and caress right now is nothing more than a set

> of bare bones. Think about it -- high and low, young and old, male

> and female, all are the same. Awaken to this one great matter and you

> will immediately comprehend the meaning of " unborn and undying. "

>

> If chunks of rock

> Can serve as a memento

> To the dead,

> A better headstone

> Would be a simple tea-mortar.

>

> Humans are indeed frightful beings.

> A single moon

> Bright and clear

> In an unclouded sky;

> Yet still we stumble

> In the world's darkness.

>

> Have a good look -- stop the breath, peel off the skin, and everybody

> ends up looking the same. No matter how long you live the result is

> not altered[even for emperors]. Cast off the notion that " I exist. "

> Entrust yourself to the wind-blown clouds, and do not wish to live

> for ever.

>

> This world

> Is but

> A fleeting dream

> So why by alarmed

> At its evanescence?

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

>

> The vagaries of life,

> Though painful

> Teach us

> Not to cling

> To this floating world.

>

> Why do people

> Lavish decorations

> On this set of bones

> Destined to disappear

> Without a trace?

>

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

>

> No one really knows

> The nature of birth

> Nor the true dwelling place.

> We return to the source

> And turn to dust.

>

> Many paths lead from the foot of the mountain,

> But at the peak

> We all gaze at the

> Single bright moon.

>

> If at the end of our journey

> There is no final

> Resting place,

> Then we need not fear

> Losing our Way.

>

> No beginning,

> No end.

> Our mind

> is born and dies:

> The emptiness of emptiness!

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

>

> Rain, hail, snow and ice:

> All are different,

> But when they fall

> They become the same water

> As the valley stream.

>

> The ways of proclaiming

> The Mind vary,

> But the same heavenly truth

> Can be seen

> In each and every one.

>

> Cover your path

> With the fallen pine needles

> So no one will be able

> To locate your

> True dwelling place.

>

 

** Hmmm, what did they use for mouthwash back then?

 

;-)

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