The Way of Zen - Alan Watts [45]
One of the reasons for suspecting the Bodhidharma story is that Zen is so Chinese in style that an Indian origin seems improbable. Yet the very Taoistic Seng-chao was a pupil of Kumarajiva, as was Tao-sheng, and the writings attributed to Bodhidharma and his successors until Hui-neng (638–713) show the clear transition from an Indian to a Chinese view of dhyana.11
The absence of any record of a Dhyana School in Indian Buddhist literature, or of Bodhidharma in connection with it, is perhaps due to the fact that there was never any Dhyana or Zen School even in China until some two hundred years after Bodhidharma’s time. On the other hand, there would have been an almost universal practice of dhyana–that is, or ts’o-ch’an d (Japanese, za-zen) or sitting meditation–among Buddhist monks, and the special instructors who supervised this practice were called dhyana masters, no matter what their school or sect. There were likewise vinaya masters, or instructors in monastic discipline, and dharma masters, or instructors in doctrine. Zen became a distinct school only as it promulgated a view of dhyana which differed sharply from the generally accepted practice.12
Zen tradition represents Bodhidharma as a fierce-looking fellow with a bushy beard and wide-open, penetrating eyes–in which, however, there is just the hint of a twinkle. A legend says that he once fell asleep in meditation and was so furious that he cut off his eyelids, and falling to the ground they arose as the first tea plant. Tea has thereafter supplied Zen monks with a protection against sleep, and so clarifies and invigorates the mind that it has been said, “The taste of Zen [ch’an] and the taste of tea [ch’a] are the same.” Another legend holds that Bodhidharma sat so long in meditation that his legs fell off. Hence the delightful symbolism of those Japanese Daruma dolls which represent Bodhidharma as a legless roly-poly so weighted inside that he always stands up again when pushed over. A popular Japanese poem says of the Daruma doll:
Jinsei nana korobi
Ya oki.
Such is life–
Seven times down,
Eight times up!
Bodhidharma’s alleged interview with the Emperor Wu of Liang is typical of his abrupt and direct manner. For the Emperor described all that he had done to promote the practice of Buddhism, and asked what merit he had gained thereby–taking the popular view that Buddhism is a gradual accumulation of merit through good deeds, leading to better and better circumstances in future lives, and finally to nirvana. But Bodhidharma replied, “No merit whatever!” This so undermined the Emperor’s idea of Buddhism that he asked, “What, then, is the sacred doctrine’s first principle?” Bodhidharma replied, “It’s just empty; there’s nothing sacred.” “Who, then, are you,” said the Emperor, “to stand before us?” “I don’t know.”13 e
After this interview, so unsatisfactory from the Emperor’s point of view, Bodhidharma retired to a monastery in Wei, where he is said to have spent nine years in a cave, “gazing at the wall” (pi-kuan f). Suzuki holds that this is not to be taken literally, and that the expression refers to Bodhidharma’s inner state, his exclusion of all grasping thoughts from his mind.14 Thus Bodhidharma remained, until he was approached by the monk Shenkuang, afterwards Hui-k’o (486–593, maybe!), who was to become Bodhidharma’s successor as the Second Patriarch.
Hui-k’o again and again asked Bodhidharma for instruction, but was always refused. Yet he continued to sit in meditation outside the cave, waiting patiently in the snow in the hope that Bodhidharma would at last relent. In desperation he finally cut off his left arm and presented it to Bodhidharma as a token of his agonized sincerity. At this Bodhidharma at last asked Hui-k’o what he wanted.
“I have no peace of mind [hsin],” said Hui-k’o. “Please pacify my mind.”
“Bring out your mind here before me,” replied Bodhidharma, “and I will pacify it!”
“But when I seek my own mind,” said Hui-k’o, “I cannot find it.”
“There!” snapped Bodhidharma,