Notes Beside the Bamboo Window — Third Collection, Part 6

The earlier monk wanted to abolish the two prohibitions on "improper solicitation" and "reckless citation" — I refused, and the monk left. Then another monk said: "The Yunqi rules on biweekly and daily plain speech only stir up conflict. Abolishing plain speech would itself be the truest form of plain speech."

I said: "Are you not yourself a monk? A monk ought to follow the Buddha; and the Buddha established the ninety-day summer retreat, and on the day it concludes, called it 'the day of the monks' unrestrained confession,' or 'the Buddha's day of joy' — allowing monks to point out one another's faults freely, with nothing held back, which is exactly why it is called 'unrestrained.' Yunqi's biweekly plain speech is based on precisely this precedent. The Buddha himself rejoiced in it — why should you alone object? The Vinaya records: when a monk had committed some fault, a fellow monk would report it to the Buddha, who would summon the offending monk and rebuke him in every way, and from this the precept itself was established; Yunqi's daily plain speech is based on precisely this precedent as well. The Buddha himself permitted others to point out faults — why should you alone refuse to permit it? And besides, even in worldly law it is said that a ruler needs a remonstrating minister, a father needs a remonstrating son, a scholar needs a remonstrating friend — this is exactly why a flourishing ruler rewards ministers who speak candidly, why a wise sovereign erects a post inviting written criticism, why Confucius counted knowing his own faults a genuine fortune, and why Zhong You rejoiced at hearing of his own errors. How much more so, then, for a monk cultivating a path beyond this world — should he not need companions willing to speak plainly, to help him perfect his own virtue? If you hate plain speech, then flatterers and sycophants will come to surround you instead; refusing honest counsel and covering up one's own faults damages one's virtue and ruins one's own practice — this is no small failing. Be careful indeed!"

Lord Bao Xiaosu maintained a grave, solemn expression all day long, so rare was his smile that people compared it to the Yellow River running clear; Qin Hui, too, rarely smiled, and once broke into a smile only when told that a certain stream had run dry. Their outward expressions were identical, but their inner hearts were as far apart as heaven from earth!

Master Shending Yin's own gate stood forbiddingly high — no monk, unless he were already an accomplished elder of long practice, dared to approach it; and among later Chan practitioners, some have imitated this very same manner. Linji and Deshan struck and shouted at every turn, like wind and thunder; and among later Chan practitioners, some have imitated this very same manner too. Huanglong and Miaoxi, ascending the teaching platform, would curse and revile every other school; and among later Chan practitioners, some have imitated this very same manner as well. How, then, are we to understand what is genuinely the same, and what is entirely different?

Confucian scholars take the Six Classics, the Analects, and the Mencius as their own standard, and forbid themselves from studying the Laozi, the Zhuangzi, or even Buddhist scriptures — devoting themselves to a single field of study. This is simply sound principle, nothing strange about it; and the same ought to hold true for monks as well. And yet there are monks today who set aside the Buddhist sutras entirely in favor of reading Confucian texts — reading Confucian texts might still be excusable — and go on to read the Zhuangzi and the Laozi besides; and those with somewhat keener minds go on to write their own commentaries on these very texts; and further still, devote themselves to composing poetry, writing prose, practicing calligraphy in every style, and crafting elegant correspondence — every one of these is a sign of the Dharma-gate's own decline, and it seems there is no way left to reverse it!

There are monks who work as geomancers, as diviners, as physiognomists, as physicians, as obstetric specialists, as practitioners of talismanic water and alchemical furnace arts — the corruption of this degenerate age has truly reached its extreme! Someone objected: "Master Baizhang once had Śramaṇa Sima select a site capable of housing a community of five hundred monks, and thereby found Mount Wei — is this not itself a matter of geomancy? And having then chosen a leader for Mount Wei, he obtained Great Master You — is this not itself a matter of physiognomy? How, then, do you explain this?"

Ah! This was a great and providential opportunity created by the ancient sages themselves, for the sake of transmitting the Dharma and benefiting sentient beings — something ordinary people could never truly fathom. And what sort of men were Baizhang and Śramaṇa Sima to begin with? How could today's fortune-tellers possibly cite them as their own justification?

Someone said: "Miscellaneous arts are certainly not proper business for a monk, but practicing medicine, since it preserves life, ought surely to raise no objection." I would say: whatever arts disturb the mind ought to be set aside entirely as a general rule. If undertaken out of genuine compassion for saving lives, medicine can indeed be counted among the countless practices of a bodhisattva — but if one's skill in the art is not genuinely sound, then even with the intention of preserving life, one may end up harming it instead, and this is entirely unacceptable.

Recently there has been a monk practicing a form of moxibustion in which medicine is kneaded into a cake, with a cone of mugwort placed on top and burned, claimed to cure every illness. I do not know from what medical text this method derives, nor from whom it was transmitted. The proper method of moxibustion is to first palpate the flesh to locate the correct point, and then apply the burning cone directly along that point so its heat penetrates within — this is the ordinary, established method. Burning through an intervening cake produces only pain, with no genuine therapeutic effect at all. And yet the teacher practices it, and his own students carry it on after him, neither one aware of how deep and serious a karmic burden they are creating for themselves.