Ven. Jaseung Is New Head of Jogye Order

The Korea Times

By Cathy Rose A. Garcia
Staff Reporter

A young and progressive monk, Ven. Jaseung, was elected as the new head of the Jogye Order of Korea Buddhism, Yonhap News reported Thursday.

The 55-year-old, who is the former chairman of the Central Council of the Jogye Order, succeeds Ven. Jigwan as the 33rd Jogye Order Administrative Executive Director.

Ven. Jaseung garnered a whopping 91.48 percent of the votes during the election. Out of 320 monks eligible to vote in the elections, 317 cast their votes. He received 290 votes, beating out two other candidates for the position by a wide margin. The two candidates were Ven. Gakmyeong, the 58-year-old head monk at Cheonggye Temple, and Ven. Daewu, a 63-year-old who headed the Board of Administration at Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism.

"I will work towards opening a new future for Korean Buddhism," Ven. Jaseung said, after he was elected. He also said he plans to give more focus on communication and harmony among the Buddhist orders.

Ven. Jaseung will begin serving his four-year term starting Oct. 31, after senior members confirm the election results Oct. 23.

As administrative executive director of Jogye Order, he will oversee the organization's annual budget of 30 billion won.

The Jogye Order is the biggest Buddhist order in Korea with 2,501 temples and 13,860 monks around the country. It has been practicing for over 1, 200 years, from the Unified Silla Kingdom (57 B.C.-935 A.D.), but it was officially established in 1962.

Ven. Jaseung was born in 1954 in Gangwon Province. He joined the Jogye Order in 1986, and has served as the chief of the finance and administrative affairs offices.

He is also currently chief director of the scholarship foundation Eunjung Buddhist Promotion Institute.

cathy@koreatimes.co.kr

Ralph Stanley

James Ford posted a video on his blog Monkey Mind of Roscoe Holcomb singing "A Man of Constant Sorrow," which has been one of my favorite songs for years. He motivated me to post this video of Ralph Stanley singing the same song, along with another song "Oh Death."

Ralph Stanley was born February 25, 1927, and is also known as Dr. Ralph Stanley in the Bluegrass Music Circuit. He is a traditional American bluegrass artist, known for his distinctive singing and banjo playing. Stanley's autobiography, Man of Constant Sorrow, coauthored with Eddie Dean, is expected for release from Gotham Books on October 15, 2009.

A Man of Constant Sorrow


Oh Death!

A Letter to a Beginning Student

I am not sure how you are using kōan practice right now so I will discuss it with you.

The Mind is neither large nor small; it is located neither within nor without. It should not be thought about by the mind nor be discussed by the mouth. Ordinarily, it is said that we use the Mind to transmit the Mind, or that we use the Mind to seal the Mind. Actually, however, in transmitting the Mind, there is really no Mind to receive or obtain; and in sealing the Mind, there is really no Mind to seal. If this is the case, then does the Mind exist or does it not exist? Actually, it cannot be said with certainty that the Mind either exists or does not exist, for it is Absolute Reality. This is expressed in the Chán Sect by the maxim: “If you open your mouth, you are wrong. If you give rise to a single thought, you are in error.” So, if you can quiet your thinking totally, all that remains is transparency and stillness.

The Mind is Buddha; Buddha is the Mind. All sentient beings and all Buddhas have the same Mind, which is without boundaries and clear like space, without name and form and is immeasurable.

What is your Original Face and what is Huàtóu? Your Original Face is without discrimination. Huàtóu is the Reality before the arising of a single thought. When this Mind is enlightened, it is the Buddha; but when it is confused, it remains only the mind of sentient beings. So sitting in Shikantaza is correct practice and the Huàtóu, “what is this?....don’t know……!” is used each time thinking arises during practice and we recognize it. Yet, correct Zen Practice is actually how do you keep your mind, moment after moment after moment. So, not just on the cushion, but each moment. When writing time, then just writing. When cooking time, just cooking. When wife comes home, then just husband mind. Also, when doing nothing time, just do nothing. So during sitting meditation we say that we sit in Shikantaza and when thinking arises we use our Huàtóu to return back to this present moment, not by naming “what is this” but by just using “don’t know” to return to a non-thinking state.

In answer to your question about studying the Dharma I’d like to give you some background on our direction of practice which is different from the Soto (Cáodòng) or even the Rinzai (Línjì) Schools. Sŏn Master Chinul who is the founder of our approach to practice was a Korean monk who worked to reform the monastic order and provide a rationale for Sŏn practice. Observing that the commercialization of monastic activities (in the form of fortune-telling, services for paying clients, and so on) had brought many into the order for questionable motives, he sought to create a reform group called the ‘concentration and wisdom society’, which found a home when he established the Sŏngwang Sa on Mt. Jögye. At the same time, he concerned himself with theoretical issues relating to the controversy between gradual and sudden enlightenment, and the relationship between meditative experience and doctrinal/textual studies. In the former case, he adopted the typology of the Chinese Chán and Huáyán master Tsung-mi, which advocated sudden enlightenment followed by a gradual deepening and cultivation as the norm. In order to serve this purpose, he proposed meditation on kōans as the best method of practice. As to the latter, he advised that Korean Sŏn not follow the example of the more extreme trends towards rejection of scriptural and doctrinal study exhibited by Chinese Chán, but that it keep the two together as an integrated whole. He was particularly interested in incorporating the Huáyán philosophy of the Chinese lay hermit Li T'ung-hsüan into Sŏn practice as its basis and rationale. Chinul produced many eminent and accomplished disciples, and is arguably one of the most influential monks in the history of Korean Buddhism.

So, studying is also a way where we can begin to digest our understanding of the Dharma. It isn’t important to understand it, it is just to study and over time we can digest it and the Dharma will eventually become our own. This is all the correct form of practicing in our school.

Student training involves leaning how to focus your attention, so that you might experience a before-thinking mind. This allows an experiential contact with your original nature and is sometimes called kensho (to perceive your true nature). Meditation, both seated and walking, various types of yoga and some types of martial arts are all useful in this training. If you are working on a particular kōan, or holding a huàtóu and you don't understand it, then not understanding is where you are right now. If you maintain a not understanding mind eventually your not knowing mind will become stronger and stronger. Once this not knowing and you become one, you will then be able to maintain the great question and have great doubt. When you can finally allow this not knowing to permeate all of your senses, then you will attain complete enlightenment. If you keep a small question, then small enlightenment is possible. There are many kinds of enlightenment; first enlightenment, second enlightenment, third enlightenment, and then finally, no enlightenment. No enlightenment is perfect enlightenment.

If you are creating something special in your life, then you will also have a problem understanding some aspect of kōan practice; so one use of kōan practice is to take away your opinion. If you can drop your opinion, it is then possible to manifest a mind that is clear like space. Furthermore, correct Zen practice shows up in your ability to respond to each situation correctly and meticulously. It also means that you must understand your correct job in this very moment. This means that moment–to–moment the correct relationship appears of itself. When kōan practice is correct, the moment–to–moment correct situation, correct function, and correct relationship will appear by itself.

If you hold your kōan too tightly, or become attached to your kōan, or want something from kōan practice, then you will end up with a big problem. Keeping your current kōan or “a don’t know mind,” moment after moment after moment without making anything, is by itself correct direction and correct life. The old-style kōans give you a great gift in the form of a question like: What is life? What is death? What is mind? What is this moment?

There is no reason to ask whether I would continue to teach you, that is always dependant on you. If you believe in the efficacy of my teaching then you will continue to follow. If, at some point, you don’t find efficacy you can always go on your own or someone else’s path. Even if you did this and wanted to ask me to help you I would always do that. I can only point to the truth, you must discover it for yourself. You can always ask me any kind of question about anything you like, also, I am doing interviews weekly with many of my remote students via Skype. I am always here for you in whatever way I can help. I hope this helps clarify some of the issues you have raised.

President Obama's Diwali Speech

a fortune cookie of wisdom

In the last fifteen years I have been through a significant amount of changes. Experiences have come and gone but on two separate occasions I received the exact same message in a fortune cookie. The simple statement, which isn’t the common fortune cookie fare, really struck me the first time. And then when I received it again about ten years later I figured it really meant something to me.

This fortune read, “you think it is a secret, but it never has been one.” Most of us live our lives trying to fool others into buying our projected images. We try to convince those around us that we are something that perhaps we aren’t. What this cookie told me was simple, we are good at fooling ourselves, but most people can see through the projections and desires. We are who and what we are moment after moment. It isn’t important to be interesting, loving, intellectual, knowledgeable, successful, competitive, moving forward, moving backward, joining, separating, conservative, liberal, or any other idea of what we think we need to be.

The cookie made me realize that we are just what we are and can’t deceive anyone but ourselves. So I bow to the honorable cookie maker who gave me this insight all those years ago.

A turning point

What would you do if you were brought up from a very young age to become the savior of humanity? What would you do if you were picked from obscurity and poverty in India, separated from your family, with the exception of your younger brother, and educated and groomed in the best colleges of Europe? Could you be true to yourself? Jiddu Krishnamurti was such a man, please explore the strength of self resolve and dedication to the truth.

Johnny Cash, Hurt

Besides the uncanny resemblance to my father, and also the fact that he was almost the same age and also from the same place in Texas, this song is bittersweet for me. My Dad who grew up in West Texas and entered the US Air Force in 1948 loved Johnny Cash. I grew up listening to the country music of my father as well as the classical music of my mother. But it was the rawness of some of this music, like "Ring of Fire" which left their mark on my impressionable soul.

When Johnny Cash decided to record this version of the "Nine Inch Nails" Trent Resner, I was completely blown away at its honesty and expression. I love Trent's orginal recording, but Johnny's version is haunting and spacial. I remember viewing an interview of Johnny Cash who said he was very excited when he finished this video and sent it to his daughter June Carter. She said that it was hard to watch because it seemed as if he was saying good bye. He told his daughter that he was.

This essence comes through in both the singing of the lyrics and the video, and it is the most powerful expression of a life in retrospect that I have ever seen. The sheer honesty and openess are a window in the transition we expect from this lifetime.

On Death and Dying

I started practicing Zen in the nineteen eighties and learned much from my teachers during these early years. Consequently, I can remember a few specific instances that occurred in the nineteen nineties that changed my opinion and set the course for the rest of my life. One of my close mentors and Dharma Teachers was Bridget Duff who had started practicing with Zen Master Seung Sahn in 1973 in Los Angeles. Prior to meeting Seung Sahn, Bridget had spent some time studying with Jidu Krishnamurti and some very transformational experiences. Bridget was one of the original members of the Los Angeles group and was close to Seung Sahn for the rest of his life.

Bridget is the daughter of two rather famous (or infamous) parents of the nineteen fifty Hollywood scene. Her mother was Ida Lupino and her father was Howard Duff. Her mother was considered the most powerful woman in Hollywood next to Lucille Ball in the late fifties. Bridget grew up as neighbors of the Ronald Reagan’s and her best friend growing up was Patti Davis (Reagan) who was the same age as Bridgette.

In August of 1995, Bridgette had told me that her mother was dying. I had never heard much from her about her relationship with her mom or what was going on between them. Over the next few weeks she told me that her mother had really alienated her relationship and wanted nothing to do with her daughter. However, due to her advanced colon cancer, she had reconciled with Bridgette and they got to try to reconcile about twenty years of problems over the course of two weeks.

Sometime, about a month later, I was in Reno, Nevada where I had arranged a retreat with Jeff Kitzes, who was a JDPSN of Seung Sahn's, and a group of students who had been studying with Eido Roshi. I had been practicing with this group as my job had me in Reno at least three or four days a week at that time. I had brought up four of the residents of the Ocean Eyes Zen Center with me to attend this retreat and support the local Reno Sangha. During this retreat Jeff gave a Dharma talk which discussed his alienation with his father when he decided to follow the Buddhist path.

Jeff was brought up as a Jewish child in California and his father had hoped that he would follow in a banking or business path and support his father’s sense of family values. Jeff grew up in the late sixties Berkeley environment and decided that Psychology and Buddhism was a much better path for him. Jeff said that his father never forgave him for this. He then relayed that follow diagnosis of a terminal illness, his father was given only a few months to live. Jeff said that he decided to transfer his clients and spent as much time as he could in his father’s last days. Jeff said that the closeness and openness that his father expressed were moving and allowed the two of them to reconcile lifelong differences.

Following these two experiences, I looked at my own life and came to some deep realizations. I realized that I was very distant in relationship with both my father and my mother and decided that I didn't want to wait until a few weeks or months before their death’s to have a good relationship with them. I took to heart the teaching of Zen Master Seung Sahn and applied his teaching of correct situation, correct relationship and correct function. I was distant from my parents and we were not very affectionate nor did we communicate on a very regular basis.

I wrote a very detailed letter to my mother following these two experiences discussing our differences and seeming distance. I told her that she might be uncomfortable but I was going to be a good son, I was going to start hugging her (this had never happened before) and I was going to kiss her (this too) and tell her that I love her (this was a big deal for me so I decided to take the lead.) She responded well to my letter and from this our relationship began to grow and bear fruit.

We grew stronger in our relationship and I was firm on celebrating all the major holidays with my parents and my family. We had great celebrations for Thanksgiving, Christmas etc.. every year without fail, this was my commitment to my family. My mother was diagnosed with spinal cancer in 2002 and took her life in 2003. I was with her holding her hand when she took her last breath. I can also say that there was nothing left unsaid between the two of us. We had the eight years to sort everything out about our relationship and our history.

I was worried about my father when my mother died and thought he would take a turn and just give up. He didn't and we became close friends and spent some tremendous time together. He became frail a few years later and I spent as much time as I could with him, sometimes months at a time. He lived in the Bay Area and I was living in Los Angeles. I got five years of great time learning and exploring with my father before he finally succumbed to emphysema. I was also blessed to be holding his hand during the final moments, as I had with my mom.

So, what does all this mean? I studied many teachers and psychologists and looked for insight where I could find it during these years. I found great direction with the Zen Hospice Project and the teachings should be looked at as precepts for living and not precepts for dealing with dying people. Please take these points to heart. We have a very short time on this planet; we can only make changes in the present, so please follow these precepts to allow your lives to flower.

Five precepts for living:

Welcome everything, push away nothing.

My first zen teacher Seung Sahn Dae Jong Sa was quite fond of saying, “Put it all down,” which was his way of saying “welcome everything, push away nothing.” In Zen we also say things like; “live in the moment” or “be mindful.” Pema Chödron, who is a teaching lineage holder of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, says it from the opposite perspective, “Abandon all hope.” This means to give up our ideas that things will change other than what they are. Abandon the idea that the outcome of a given situation is other than what it is, right now. Face this life with full awareness. Suzuki Rōshi once said something to the effect of: “it’s like going to a restaurant for lunch, and when your lunch is served you say to yourself, ‘I shouldn't have come to this restaurant, I should have gone to some other restaurant. This restaurant is not so good.’ The truth of this situation is that we can only be here now. I still have a little card my first psychology professor gave me from a class on “transactional analysis” I took in 1980 which says, “Even if you don’t like the way it is, it still is the way it is.”

Bring your whole self to the experience.

This means to live our lives with our whole bodies and souls. To be completely present and to pay attention to ourselves as much as we pay attention to others. We have to feel ourselves in each situation, feel our own tension, our own fear, our own apprehension. We need to love ourselves in each moment, especially in times of stress and anxiety. If we pay attention to our inner self we can relax into the moment and it will be easier to be present.

Don’t wait.

Waiting implies something is going to happen by itself. It also implies that perhaps it can be done in the future. The reality that Buddha taught was that the only moment we have is now. Krishnamurti, who was one of the greatest sage’s of the twentieth century, talked a lot about this point. He said, “We delude ourselves in thinking that we can change some behavior in the future. It is through our discursive thinking that change can happen in the future. The only moment we have to change anything is now.”

Find the place of rest, in the middle of things.

This means that we must find that place of calm in the middle of the storm. The storm of our lives, the storm of work, the storm of getting our kids ready for school, the storm of someone who is close to us that is dying. It means that within each activity we can find a place of peace and then we can see the truth for what it is.

Cultivate don’t know mind. 

Suzuki Roshi called this beginners mind. In the mind of the beginner possibilities are endless, in the mind of the expert, possibilities are few. An ancient once said, “Not knowing is most intimate.” This is being here without expectation or idea. This is our essential practice.

John Daido Loori Roshi

I had to pleasure and blessing to meet and train with Daido Roshi a few years back. I found him a very personable and knowledgable teacher. He spent about thirty minutes one day showing me the correct form to fold a robe in his lineage. I will remember him fondly for the opening and insight into Koan work in contrast to the Korean approach I had been studying. This meeting eventually encourged me to seek out James Ford Roshi who I am now studying with. At times like these I like to share a story from Shunryu Suzuki Roshi from Zen Mind, Beginners Mind. I have never read anything with the clarity of his explanation of life and death and would offer this to all who are looking for a bit of understanding.

Nirvana, the Waterfall, Shunryu Suzuki, Roshi

“Our life and death are the same thing. When we realize this fact, we have no fear of death anymore, nor actual difficulty in life.”

I went to Yosemite National Park, and I saw some huge waterfalls. The highest one there is one thousand three hundred forty feet high, and from it the water comes down like a curtain thrown from the top of the mountain. It does not seem to come down swiftly, as you might expect; it seems to come down very slowly because of the distance. And the water does not come down as one stream, but is separated into many tiny streams. From a distance it looks like a curtain. And I thought it must be a very difficult experience for each drop of water to come down from the top of such a high mountain. It takes time you know, a long time, for the water finally to reach the bottom of the waterfall. And it seems to me that our human life may be like this. We have many difficult experiences in our life. But at the same time, I thought, the water was not originally separated, but was one whole river. Only when it is separated does it have some difficulty in falling. It is as if the water does not have any feeling when it is one whole river. Only when separated in many drops can it begin to have or to express some feeling. When we see one whole river we do not feel the living activity of the water, but when we scoop a part of the water into a dipper, we experience some feeling of the water, and we also feel the value of the person who uses the water. Feeling ourselves and the water in this way, we cannot use it in just a material way. It is a living thing.

Before we were born we had no feeling; we were one with the universe. This is sometimes called “mind-only,” or “essence of mind,” or “big mind.” After we are separated by birth from this oneness, as the water falling from the waterfall is separated by the wind and rocks, and then we have feeling. You have difficulty because you have feeling. You attach to the feeling you have without knowing just how this kind of feeling is created. When you do not realize that you are one with the river, or one with the universe, you have fear. Whether it is separated into drops or not, water is only water. Our life and death are the same thing. When we realize this fact we have no fear of death anymore, and we have no actual difficulty in our life.

When the water returns to its original oneness with the river, it no longer has any individual feeling to it; it resumes its own nature, and finds perfect composure. How very glad the water must be to come back to the original river! If this is water it must come back to the original river! If this is so, what feeling will we have when we die? I think we are like the water in the dipper. We will have composure then, perfect composure. It may be too perfect for us, just now, because we are so much attached to our own feeling, to our own individual existence. For us, just now, we have some fear of death, but after we resume our true original nature, there is Nirvana. That is why we say, “To attain Nirvana is to pass away.” “To pass away” is not a very adequate expression. Perhaps “to pass on,” or “to go on,” or “to join” would be better. Will you try to find some better expression for death? When you find it, you will have quite a new interpretation of your life. It will be like my experience when I say the water in the big waterfall. Imagine! It was one thousand three hundred forty feet high!

We say, “Everything comes to emptiness.” One whole river or one whole mind is emptiness. When we reach this understanding we find the true meaning of our life. When we reach this understanding we can see the beauty of human life. Before we realize this fact, everything that we see is just delusion. Sometimes we overestimated the beauty; sometimes we underestimate or ignore the beauty because our small mind is not in accord with reality.

To talk about it this way is quite easy, but to have the actual feeling is not so easy. But by your practice of meditation you can cultivate this feeling. When you can sit with your whole body and mind, and with the oneness of your mind and body under the control of the universal mind, you can easily attain this kind of right understanding. Your everyday life will be renewed without being attached to an old erroneous interpretation of life. When you realize this fact, you will discover how meaningless your old interpretation was, and how much useless effort you had been making. You will find the true meaning of life, and even though you have difficulty falling upright from the top of the waterfall to the bottom of the mountain, you will enjoy your life.

(end quote from Zen Mind Beginners Mind)

a secret turning in us
makes the universe turn.
head unaware of feet,
and feet head. neither cares.
they keep turning.
this moment this love comes to rest in me,
many beings in one being.
in one wheat grain a thousand sheaf stacks.
inside the needles eye a turning night of stars.
keep walking, though there’s no place to get to.
don’t try to see through the distances.
that’s not for human beings. Move within,
but don’t move the way fear makes you move.
something opens our wings. Something
makes boredom and hurt disappear.
someone fills the cup in front of us.
we taste only sacredness.
I stand up, and this one of me
turns into a hundred of me.
they say I circle around you,
nonsense, I circle around me.

Jellaudin Rumi

President Barack Obama Wins Nobel Peace Prize

President Barack Obama won the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize for "his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples." (Oct. 9)

Emei Shan 2003

April 10, 2003: (this trip to PRC was taken at the height of the SARS Epidemic and very few Westerners were in China)

A tour guide from CITS and a driver picked us up 8:00 am to go to the Panda Base in Chengdu in the morning. Luckily the driver had a Chinese version of a Mitusbishi Pajero SUV and we had room to store our bags comfortably. We spent the morning touring the grounds and looking at the Giant Pandas and the Red Pandas.

We drove to the city of Emei in the late morning and arrived at about 2 pm. We had the driver look for a restaurant to have lunch at. The pickings looked quite slim in Emei and when we were about to go to the Hotel we spotted a quaint place on the corner of a main road going back towards the center of town. Our guide got out and said that this was a place that served “hot pot” finger food. We spent about five minutes trying to decipher what she meant by finger food, finally it was ascertained that it was a hot pot restaurant that specialized in fungus or as we in the West call it, mushrooms!

The lunch was good and we got our own private room and ate lots of really good food. Mount Emei is located in the southwest corner of the Sichuan basin. The mountain is well known in China as a scenic spot and draws many local tourists each year. As we entered the City of Emei there was a sign at the main traffic circle under a large statue of Quan Yin (Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva) that said Emei Shan was the number one tourism spot in all of China. Christine doubted this saying that lots of places in China say the same thing.

Emeishan has a Buddhist heritage that can be traced back to the Eastern Han Dynasty under the reign of Emperor Ming (58-75). One day a hermit called Pugong was collecting medicinal herbs in Emeishan when he suddenly saw a man with a halo around his head flying over on the back of a white elephant. Awe-stricken, Pugong followed the man to the summit where he found nothing but fleeting purplish clouds. Then he went to the Western Region (Xinjiang region, from where Buddhism spread from India to China) to consult an abbot who told him that the man he saw was the holy person of Bodhisattva Samantabhadra. Back to Emeishan, Pugong converted his residence into a temple for worshipping Bodhisattva Samantabhadra. This became the first temple ever built in Emeishan. There used to be more than 70 temples in Emeishan when Buddhism was prevailing in China. To date, a dozen of them are still functioning.

We checked into our room at the Huasheng Hotel which is located at the base Emeishan, before making a late afternoon visit to Bao Guo Si (Temple of Dedication to the Nation). We chose Bao Guo Sí because it was close to the base of the mountain. We loaded back into the SUV and headed up the main road towards the mountain. At the gateway, we were pleased that even though there were a large number of vendors, anxious to get us to buy their assortment of souvenirs, maps, snacks, they seemed more subdued and reverent than at other places we have visited in China. Bao Guo Si’s most renowned treasure is an 8 foot tall porcelain Buddha which was said to have been made in the 15th century. Apart from that, the most notable thing about this temple is its beautiful setting at the foothills of Emei Shan. The cool, misty climate, together with the surrounding ancient trees, all add a very mysterious and holy feel about the whole place. Perhaps it was such an environment which created a perfect venue for sages and mystics to settle here, and thus leading to the evolvement of Emei Shan as a pilgrimage site.

Upon leaving on the drive back to the hotel it was decided that tomorrow we would visit the summit and visit the two temples Woyun Sí “Above the Clouds Temple” and Jinding Sí “Golden Peak Temple” there at the summit of the Mountain. Jinding Sí is located on a shear cliff a little more than 10,000 feet above sea level. Then we would go back down the mountain to Wangnian Sí because it is said to be the most beautiful of all the temples.

April 11, 2003:

After spending a night at the Hua Sheng Hotel, our driver took us to the local bus station where we could catch a tour bus up to the summit cable car. No private vehicles are allowed on the mountain unless you are a resident and all of the taxis are LPG powered to try and preserve the mountains heritage. We got on the bus at 9 am and drove up the mountains to a car park near Jieyin Dian. Like many tourist attractions in new pseudo-capitalistic China, there is an entrance fee to the foothills of the mountain (RMB 30 - a huge sum for any Chinese citizen), and individual charges for different points of interest, including each of the temples. We had to get off the bus to purchase our ticket, then we waited in line to have our picture taken by a computer.

At the end of the line we received our ticket with our picture on it that was good for the whole day at anywhere on the mountain. We then drove further up the mountains to a car park near Jieyin Dian. This spot is at 8,580 feet and is in the cloud layer most of the time. Being shrouded in the dense mist makes it extremely cold. Peasants surrounded us the moment we left the car, urging us to rent their thick, bulky military coats lest we freeze to death at higher levels. Nevertheless, we fought our way through the army of peasant-touts without buying anything and took a short but strenuous walk up to the cable car station. Here, the sight was beholding – lush green foliage and maple trees - no wonder they say the gods live here. Along the path on the left were the vendor stalls, selling snacks, religious object d'art and traditional Chinese medicinal drugs (including items like dear antlers, ginseng root and many kinds of bark, etc). On the other side of the path were monkeys sitting on tree limbs and railings when they were available. At one point a monkey snatched a platic orange soda bottle out of the hand of a tourits who screamed really loudly. I was wondering what the monkey was going to do with the soda figuring he couldn't open it. Well, he chewed a hole in the side of the bottle and had a nice drink.

All the way up the steep climb we encountered many Chinese organized tour groups, devoted elderly pilgrims, peasants on the way to their remote villages, porters carrying loads of bricks, an occasional Western or Hong Kong backpacker, and also huagan porters. A huagan is a simple bamboo sedan chair carried by peasant porters to carry pilgrims up the mountain. It’s amazing seeing how such feudal occupations have managed to survive in modern day China.

Soon we joined the hordes of other tourists (mostly Chinese from all over China - there were few westerners in Sichuan) in the line for the cable car to Jinding, or Golden Summit. Now we have reached the Jin Ding - as far as one can go at Emeishan. Here, at 10,071 feet, the sky is a brilliant azure blue and the sun is bright and warm, it was no longer cold even at this altitude. I had to take off my sweater and it felt good to have the warm sun on my face. At the peak are two temples, Woyun Sí and Jinding Sí. They are quite different and each was unique in its own way. The first temple is Woyun Sí and is home to Buddhist Nun’s who practice Ch’an (Zen) Buddhism as well as various martial arts such as Taiji. We first visited the old run down Ch’an temple. The entire temple is made of wood, which is quite rare for a temple in China. It is also interesting that it is still standing and hasn’t burned down.

After a quick tour of Woyun Sí we exited at the back of the temple and before us was the beautiful temple of Jinding perched almost precariously on the perpendicular granite cliff top, and whose golden roof tiles reflected bright light in the mid-day sun as though it was a star on top of the mountain. Around the base of the temple was the famous Sea of Clouds, which blocked our view of everything below, except for an occasional foliage-covered peak that protruded from it. And in the horizon, were the faint snow-capped mountains of the Tibetan Plateau and Gong’gashan (the peak of the Great Snow Mountains). The Mountains were everywhere so it is no wonder why this land was so isolated and sheltered from invasions over the centuries. And indeed the great Chinese poet Lipo (ACE 701 - 762) said in a famous poem:

Oh how dangerous, how high!
How hard is the road to Shu!
It is as hard as the road to Heaven...

The Temple of Jinding is perched on a famous perpendicular cliff known as She Shen Yan (Suicide Cliff), well above the clouds and all the open space below. It is said that the sight here is so beautiful and hypnotizing that many have jumped from here, thinking that nirvana and heaven is before them. Railings have been put up to hold back the curious visitor, but frankly, the railings are low enough that those who are emotionally-stirred could still leap forward into the space beyond. At this summit is where a curious natural phenomenon called the Buddha’s Halo is observable. On sunny and clear afternoons, a bright circle of rainbow colors can sometimes be seen. According to our guidebook, this is caused by rays being reflected by water-laden air, and some of the devoted have mistaken these as manifestation of the Buddha welcoming them to nirvana. It is therefore not surprising that mishaps most often occur when the Buddha’s Halo, is observable.

Jin Ding Sí, with its gold roof shining the midmorning sun is home to many Buddha’s and Bodhisattva’s. In the main hall there were many pilgrims donating a small sum in exchange for a blessed handkerchief that was stamped with the temple seal and inscribed by one of the monks from the temple. I purchase several of these as gifts for members of the Zen Center and Christine got them to do a special one that said peace in response to the war that was going on in Iraq at the time. The Chinese visitor read the handkerchief of Christine’s and was so impressed had the monk duplicate one for him as well.

After this, we made our way down the steps towards the cable car. Then we walked down the many stairs to we returned to Jieyin Dian car park and decided to have our lunch in one of the small restaurants there. When we had finished lunch there were no busses available for immediate departure so we rented one of the special taxis to take us to Wang Nian Sí.

Whole World is a Single Flower 1996

It was about 9 pm on Monday September 30th, 1996 when I stepped into line for Korean Air Lines flight 15 headed for Hong Kong via Seoul, Korea. I began planning to go on this particular trip sometime back in 1994 after speaking with some of the sangha members who had visited China with Dae Soen Sa Nim in 1993. This was to be the 4th Triennial “The Whole World is a Single Flower Conference” at Nam Wah Sa “South China Temple” which was built by Hui Neng, the 6th Patriarch. The temple is located just outside of the city of Shaoguan in Southern China. We would also have the opportunity to visit Un Mun Sa, the temple originally built by Un Mun (Ch: Yunmen) in a neighboring province. Since my early days of involvement with Zen it had always been a dream to visit China and the opportunity of visiting ancient temples with the Founding teacher of our school was more than the fulfillment of that dream. By 1 am on Tuesday morning I had met up with the small contingent traveling from Los Angeles.

I received a phone call on my cell phone while waiting for the flight to depart from LAX. It was my son who called to inform me that I was a grandfather. The information was bittersweet, because I would never get to see this baby who was adopted the next day. My son and his girlfriend decided they were too young to raise a child. He was 18 and she only 17 years old. Several of the people waiting for the flight were from Los Angeles and a few had arrived from locations in the Central US. One of the people I met that night has become a close friend and business associate. After a 3-year wait the flight took off at 1:15 am.

Our flight landed in Seoul, Korea where the Los Angeles travelers had the opportunity to meet up with the other group of American’s arriving from the East Coast. We all meandered around the Seoul International Airport for the 2-hour layover and some of us socialized over some very expensive coffee while introductions were made and old friendships were renewed. By this time our group had grown to seventeen. I had really expected a much larger turnout, but later came to enjoy the intimacy of this small group. Eventually we boarded our flight for Hong Kong and a little over 3 hours later the plane made a very dramatic banking maneuver between some high-rise buildings and landed at Hong Kong Airport.

The bus ride to Wanchai, which was where our hotel was located, was quite interesting in that we saw many interesting things. Our tour guide, Zen Master Dae Kwang was exceptionally informative and managed to make the trip fun and enjoyable. Hong Kong is a very intriguing city; everyone seemed poised for some radical changes as it was being prepared to be given back to the Chinese by the end of that year. This edge of uncertainty made the city truly alive and grounded in the present; it is truly a melting pot of cultures. The streets are crowded, the buildings are tall, and about 30 percent of the city appears to be under reconstruction. With the crowds, the traffic and hustle and bustle of this fast growing metropolis, I was surprised at how safe the city actually is. We spent the next day and a half wandering through shops, riding buses, ferries and trains, sightseeing and eating some of the best food I have ever experienced.

The Hong Kong Sangha members were the most memorable and proved invaluable in our unsuccessful attempts at trying to barter for better deals or in finding a good restaurant to visit. This group proved to this tired old American what the true meaning of together action was. All of our Hong Kong hosts were tireless in their efforts to assist us and make our visit a most pleasant event.

One highlight of our stay in Hong Kong was morning practice at Su Bong Zen Monastery. The walk to the center through Hong Kong in predawn was probably an event few people ever have an opportunity to experience. After practice, Zen Master Dae Kwang led us through a few of the local parks where the older resident’s of Hong Kong were practicing Tai Chi as well as playing soccer. We received some strange looks from the locals as we marched single file through the back streets and cul de sacs of Hong Kong’s innermost communities.

At 5 am on Friday morning we assembled outside the Empire Hotel and boarded our bus that would take us to the border town of Shenzhen. At Shenzhen we processed through Chinese Customs and finally entered the Peoples Republic of China. The bus then took us through Shenzhen to the train station where we would ride the train 6 and half hours north to the City of Shaoguan. The train ride was electric, almost like going back one hundred years to a bygone era, and the scenery was the most dramatic I think I have ever seen. All the paintings and stories you have ever heard about China’s beauty and spender don’t add up to the actual experience.

Arriving at the Shaoguan train station was like a scene out of “Casablanca.” The lighting was a muted blue and rather dim to Western standards. But the feeling and the experience transported me to another world which exists beyond my own present idea of life and community, beyond my levels of comfort that exist in this mundane repetitive world I have come to accept as my universe. I was challenged to question my ideas. To put down my opinion at how things ought to be and just allow things to be. Yvonne Padilla, a fellow traveler and sangha member from Los Angeles asked me if I’d go for a walk with her around the town. It was late, maybe 11pm, the city was rather seedy looking and dark and no one else was up to leaving the Hotel, but I swallowed my fears and decided to go on this walk with her. I can’t say I was comfortable, we attracted a lot of attention from the locals; however, I will never forget my feelings nor the sights and the people we encountered that evening. China is a world away from America. Even though a lot of the younger people were wearing jeans and DKNY T-shirts, their manner and way of relating to one another was totally alien to me. I have spent six years of my life living in Europe and thought I understood foreign culture, but this shattered many of my illusions that night. It is quite different when you are the minority, suffice it say it was humbling.