Friday, April 13, 2018

One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan


With no-mind, blossoms invite the butterfly;
With no-mind, the butterfly visits the blossoms.
When the flower blooms, the butterfly comes;
When the butterfly comes, the flower blooms.
I do not "know" others,
Others do not "know" me.
Not-knowing each other we naturally follow the Way. 1
In the introductory analysis of John Stevens' One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan, we are told that the 18th century hermit monk was a living example of a Zen bodhisattva, teaching without preaching and going beyond mindfulness to a mind free from attachment (Japanese: mushin).2 Ryokan writes that we follow Buddha's teachings (the Way) by experiencing life without study and analysis, just as nature does.

His poetry is filled with nature, reflecting both joy and sadness in his remote and rural surroundings. But this description of the interdependence of flower and insect life also expresses the teaching (Pali: Dhamma, Sanskrit: Dharma) of dependent origination (Pali: paticca samuppada), held by Buddhadasa to be "a complete description of nature" and "the very heart of Buddhism." 3

And because it is a mental process that is the cause and solution to suffering (Pali: dukkha), Buddhadasa says "“It is inside of us; we need only to look inward.” Compare this to Ryokan's exhortation on finding truth:
If you speak delusions, everything becomes a delusion;
If you speak the truth, everything becomes the truth.
Outside the truth there is no delusion,
But outside delusion there is no special truth.
Followers of Buddha's Way!
Why do you so earnestly seek the truth in distant places?
Look for delusion and truth in the bottom of your own hearts.4
Buddhadasa also helps us unlock the mystery of this Ryokan poem:
Buddha is your mind.
And the Way goes nowhere.
Don't look for anything but this.
If you point your cart north
When you want to go south,
How will you arrive? 5
Since all reality is a mental process, enlightenment must be found in the mind. The Dhamma of conditioned genesis tells us that a religious pilgrimage provides less insight and progress than our own feelings. The Way goes nowhere but within.

Along with mushin, a second theme of Ryokan's poetry is a sense of impermanence (Japanese: mujo, Pali: anicca). This too is basic to Buddhist Dhamma, considered one of the three characteristics of all beings, along with suffering (Pali: dukkha) and non-self (Pali: anatta). Changing seasons, aging and loneliness are often mentioned by Ryokan. This poem includes the sadness of all three:
I sit quietly, listening to the falling leaves —
A lonely hut, a life of renunciation.
The past has faded, things are no longer remembered.
My sleeve is wet with tears.6
Although his poems can be taken for scripture, Ryokan the bodhisattva taught by example during his lifetime, and those able to emulate his simple life, mostly free from attachments, would be well on their way to freeing themselves.
After spending the day begging in town,
I now sit peacefully under a cliff in the evening cool.
Alone, with one robe and one bowl —
The life of a Zen monk is truly the best! 7


1 One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan, trans. John Stevens, Weatherhill, Boston, 2006, pg. 16.
2 Manual Of Zen Buddhism, Daisetz Teitaro Suzuki, pg. 80.
3 "Conditioned Genesis," in Me and Mine by Bhikkhu Buddhadasa, Donald K. Swearer, ed., State University of New York Press, pg. 115.
4 Stevens, pg. 50.
5 Stevens, pg. 56.
6 Stevens, pg. 23.
7 Stevens, pg. 34.

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