When working at Zen, the important thing is to generate the i ching (doubt sensation). What is this doubt sensation? For instance: Where did I come from before my birth, and where shall I go after my death?
Since one does not know the answer to either question, a strong feeling of "doubt" arises in the mind. Stick this "doubt-mass" on to your forehead and keep it there all the time until you can neither drive it away nor put it down, even if you want to. Then suddenly you will discover that the doubt-mass has been crushed, that you have broken it into pieces. The masters of old said:
"The greater the doubt, the greater the awakening;
The smaller the doubt, the smaller the awakening;
No doubt, no awakening"
When working at Zen, the worst thing is to become attached to quietness, because this will unknowingly cause you to be engrossed in dead stillness. Then you will develop an inordinate fondness for quietness and at the same time an aversion for activity of any kind.
Once those who have lived amidst the noise and restlessness of worldly affairs experience the joy of quietness, they become captivated by its honey sweet taste, craving it like an exhausted traveler who seeks a peaceful den in which to slumber. How can people with such an attitude retain their awareness?
When working at Zen, one does not see the sky when lifting, nor the earth when lowering, one's head. A mountain is not a mountain, and water is not water. While walking or sitting one is not aware of doing so. Though among a hundred thousand people, no one is seen. Without and within the body and mind nothing exists but the burden of this doubt-sensation. This feeling can be described as "turning the whole world into a muddy vortex."
A Zen yogi should resolutely vow that he will never stop working until this doubt-mass is broken up. This is a most crucial point.
What does this "turning the whole world into a muddy vortex" mean? It refers to the great Truth, which from the time of no-beginning has existed latent and idle—it has never been brought forth. Therefore a Zen yogi should bestir himself to make the heavens spin and the earth and its waters roll; he will benefit greatly from the rolling surges and the tossing waves.
When working at Zen, one should not worry about not being able to revive after death; what should worry you is whether you can die out from the state of life! If you can really wrap yourself up tightly in i ching, the realm of movement will be vanquished naturally without making any specific effort to vanquish it, and distracted thoughts will be purified spontaneously without effort to purify them.
In a wholly natural way one will feel the six senses become spacious and vacuous. When one reaches this state, one will awaken to a mere touch and respond to the slightest call. Why then should one worry about not being able to revive?
When working in Zen, one should concentrate on one koan only, and not try to understand or explain them at all. Even if one were able to do so, this would be merely intellectual understanding and not true revelation. The Lotus Sutra says:
"This Dharma is not understood through thinking and intellection."
The Total Enlightenment Sutra declares:
"To perceive the Realm of Enlightenment of the Tathagata with the thinking mind is like attempting to burn Mount Sumeru with the light of a firefly; never will one succeed."
When working at Zen, one who works with absorption will feel as if they had lifted a thousand-pound load; and even if one wants to put it down, is unable to do so.
In ancient times people could enter the Dhyana while tilling the land, picking peaches or doing anything. It was never a matter of sitting idly for prolonged periods, engaged in forcefully suppressing one's thoughts. Does Dhyana mean stopping one's thoughts? If so, this is a debased Dhyana, not the Dhyana of Zen.
When working at Zen, the most harmful thing is to rationalize, conceptualize, or intellectualize the Tao with one's mind. One who does so will never reach Tao.
When working at Zen, one knows not whether they are walking or sitting. Nothing is present in the mind but the hua tou. Before breaking through the doubt-mass, one loses all sensation of body or mind, let alone such states as walking or sitting.
When working at Zen, one should not just await the coming of enlightenment with an expectant mind. This is like a traveler who sits idly by the road and expects his home to come to him. One will never arrive home this way. One must walk to get there. Likewise, when working at Zen, one never reaches enlightenment merely by waiting for it. One must press forward with all one's mind to get this enlightenment.
Attainment of the great enlightenment is like the sudden blossoming of the lotus flower or the sudden awakening of a dreamer. One cannot by waiting awaken from a dream, but one does so automatically when the time for sleep is over. Flowers cannot bloom by waiting but blossom of themselves when the time has come.
Likewise enlightenment is not so attained, but comes on its own when conditions are ripe. In other words, one should exert all one's strength to penetrate into the hua tou, pressing one's mind to the utmost in order to achieve realization.
Do not misunderstand what I have said and just wait for awakening to come. In the moment of awakening, the clouds vanish and the clear sky shines vast and empty; nothing can obscure it. In this moment heaven spins and the earth somersaults. An entirely different realm appears.
The masters of old said: "Tao, like the great Void, is all-inclusive. It lacks nothing and nothing remains in it."
One who has really attained the state of flexible hollowness sees no world without and no body or mind within. Only then can one be considered as having drawn near the entrance of Tao.
When working at Zen, one should know these four important points: To work on it with absolute detachment and complete freedom in a painstaking, direct, continuous, and flexible-hollow way.
Without directness exertion is completely wasted; and without exertion, directness is useless because it alone can never bring one to the entrance of Tao. Once the entrance is reached, however, one should maintain an uninterrupted continuity in order to attain a state conforming with enlightenment.. Once this state is achieved, one should strive to be flexible-hollow. Only then can one reach the state of wonder.
Po Shan (1575-1630)
Notes from the translator for this reading:
1. I ching is a very important Zen term meaning doubt-sensation or the feeling of doubt. The whole system of koan exercises is based upon the generation and then the break through of this "doubt-sensation." "Doubt" as used here, is not doubt in the ordinary sense of the word; it is, rather, a special type of doubt- a doubt without content-or, more succinctly, the pure sensation of doubt.
Sometimes Zen Buddhists also use the term "doubt-mass" to denote that this sensation is like a great mass or load weighing upon one's mind.
Though i ching in it original useage denotes the doubt brought about by koan exercise, Master Po Shan seems to have used it here in a much wider sense.
2.The six senses are the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.
3. Hua tou (the essence of the sentence) Although both koan and hua tou may be used to denote the "inquiry exercise of Zen," the latter is original and more accurate. "Koan" implies the entire Zen story, including all the events, plus the main question at issue, and therefore is a general term, while "hua tou" is very specific. Hua tou denotes only the question, not the whole story, and in most cases only the gist, highlight, or essence, so to speak, of the question is implied. Hua tou also means before a word or thought and the ends or edges of a sentence.