3. Great Concentration

 The place of samadhi (大寂定), or profound immersion, is the living and resting place of Samse chebul (三世諸佛), Buddhas of the past, present and future. The place of taejŏk sammae (大寂三昧), which means Great Concentration, is based on the principle of munyŏm (*無念), the state of no-mind, or absentmindedness. (*無念 is literally the mind of nothingness; the mind of blankness. Here 'nothingness' refers to the state in which all misleading conceptions and delusions have been eliminated.)

一念卽是無量劫

無量劫卽是一念

Immersion is the state of eternity;

The state of eternity is immersion.

The world of sabha (娑婆), or three-thousand years' duration, raced by in just a minute; samch'ŏn taech'ŏn segye (三千大千世界), namely, the world of three-thousand lokadhatu, or the space and time of the past, present and future, exists completely within one single mind.

All lay people, as well as all the Buddhas, are equipped with this taejŏk sammae. The difference between the Buddhas and lay people is that the latter do not accept this fact; they cannot realize it because they are enmeshed in clouds of anguish.

There was a monk called Niu-t'ou Pao-ling (牛頭法融) during the period of Tao-shin (道信), the fourth patriarch of Zen Buddhism in China. When monk Niu-t'ou (牛頭: literally cow's head monk) was immersed in meditation, flowers which the birds picked and brought to him piled up; during mealtimes the heavenly women cooked and donated meals to him. When the monk reported to Master Tao-shin what he had experienced, the Master hit him on the head, saying,

"How dare you say that you know dharma, the truth of Buddhism, whilst you enjoy such delusion?"

Ordinary people of the world are liable to hold the mistaken notion that the monk, who had been worshipped by birds and the heavenly women, was a master of masters who had attained the lofty state of the wisdom of Buddhism. However, for one who has the enlightened eyes of Buddhism, this is a modest achievement. All of the saints can't see them; nor all the heavenly guardians of dharma; nor the ghosts and gods;  nor all kinds of birds and beasts can see the lofty beings who have reached the state of taejŏk sammae, the deep serenity of single-mindedness.

After a considerable lapse of many years, a sŏnim asked the following question of Nan-chuan (南泉), the great Zen master of T'ang China:

"What do you think of the cow's head monk who had been worshipped by birds and the heavenly women?"

The master replied,

"He's just toddling along the stairs of Buddha."

The sŏnim asked again,

"What do you say to the monk when the birds have not brought flowers, nor have the heavenly women offered meals to him?"

"He can't reach my Ilsŏndo (一線道), (literally meaning one line of tao, hence single-mindedness) even though the birds didn't bring flowers nor the heavenly women offer meals."

There are shades of difference in the world of Buddhist truth.  So even though you may experience some insignificant kyŏnggye (境界), which means dimension, you must not be misled into believing that you have achieved something significant. That should not interrupt your search for truth. It's very dangerous. It's erroneous. You should exert yourselves just like those who spur the horses. You must not depart from the foundation of truth in order to explore the eyes of Buddha.

According to Ssu-shih erh-chang ching (四十二章經), the forty-two chapters of the early Buddhist Scripture, there is a saying that says in effect:

It is more rewarding to offer meals to the arhats who have attained the stage of enlightenment of hinayana than to offer meals to all the people of the world. It is more rewarding to offer meals to a bodhi-sattva who has realized the truth of mahayana than to offer meals to all the arhats. It is more rewarding to offer meals to a being who has attained the status of Buddha. It is more rewarding to offer meals to a musim *toin (無心道人), a being who has attained the state of single-mindedness, than to offer meals to all the Buddhas. (*The term toin means a being who has attained the supreme state of serenity.)

As you have seen, even in the spheres of dharmas, there are shades of difference in states of attainment --of a hinayana, a mahayana, a bodhi-sattva, and a toin. The world of all the Buddhas lies in the realm of great serenity, but the realm of a toin who has attained single-mindedness transcends all the other enlightened Buddha.

In the olden times, a monk asked Zen Master Nakpo (洛浦),

"Could you tell me what is lacking in all the Buddhas with regard to the single-minded toins, and could you tell me how the toins surpass the Buddhas?"

The Zen master responded to this question by reciting the following poem:

一片白雲橫谷口

幾多歸鳥盡迷巢

How many  times does

A cluster of white clouds,

Blocking the pathway to a valley,

Hinder the birds, going

Back to their nests,

From finding them?

Do you know where the Master's answer lies? In my opinion, the response is one-sided, and cannot solve both sides of the problem. Let me show you the other side of the issue:

昨夜三更明月下

石人相逢呵呵笑

Under the bright moonlight

Deep into the night;

Stone men met each other;

And laughed a hearty laugh.

Is this mountain priest's response given from the perspective of a Buddha or from that of a toin of one single mind?

In recent times, there were two Zen masters who had attained the state of musim (無心 or no-mind)--Suwŏl (水月) and Hyewŏl (慧月). Zen Master Suwŏl practiced meditation at Sangwŏnsa Monastery at Mount Odae, and entered nirvana in Manchuria. He led a very simple and frugal life, maintaining a constant state of serenity. One day two Buddhist believers, husband and wife, hearing about this renowned Zen master, came to request a personal encounter with him. At the time of their visit, the master was splitting  wood. Disappointed with his ragged and lowly appearance, the couple turned and left the place, not meeting him. They were misled by his appearance. Another day the master was dozing off beside a container of grain; he had been pounding and hulling rice in the water-mill. The legend has it that the water-mill floated in mid-air while he dozed. This episode is truly enigmatic and beyond the reach of the common knowledge of ordinary people.

Zen Master Hyewŏl was always working, his hands always moving, tilling the land, going to and from the bazaar, making straw-mat shoes and brushes, while maintaining a state of serenity. In his later years, Hyewŏl often sang a song, calling out, "Namujangsŏng" (meaning "wooden devil") while walking to the mountain to collect pine cones out.  One day he was carrying home a box of pine-cones, and stopping at his usual resting place, he went into nirvana. Only a toin, who has attained the supreme state of serenity, may experience such things. They occurred as a result of the serene states which he was able to maintain during the course of his day-to-day life.

If, after entering nirvana, he transforms his body and is born again, because knowledge he has attained during his life time has remained intact, he will become a wise man of saengiij ji (生而知之) who knows everything from the moment he is re-born, without the help of experience.

All these events are possible in the world of Buddha's kyŏnsŏngpŏp (見性法), literally the law of seeing the nature of things. That is why we say that the world of the past, present, and future is void, and that is why we say the world of the past, present, and future has become one.

How do all these beings end up?

莫謂無心云是道

無心有隔一重關

Never say musim is the way of dharma

Musim is also barricaded with a bar.

[In memory of the termination of the summer retreat, 1982]

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