Writings from the Zen Masters and going in circles

I picked up this little book because of its cover. The vivid image of a black ink circle on its stark, white cover – no title, no author – just seemed important somehow.
Circles, as a symbol, represent wholeness and nothingness at the same time. They’re perfectly balanced and yet perfectly unstable. In a single instance, they are eternal. On paper, a circle is merely a frame. It shows exactitude and precision and yet, it has no orientation. Is it mere coincidence that the English words “whole” and “hole” produce exactly the same sound? Of course, whether a circle is full or empty depends entirely on how you choose to look at it.

So what did I find in the pages of this little book? Wholeness or emptiness? Everything or nothing?

I read it while attempting to write my recent post for The Great Naturalists, which was the most challenging post I’ve written yet. The words just wouldn’t come. And when they did, they were tangled and foggy. Each time I picked up this little book of Zen teachings, I was looking for some semblance of clarity; a spark of truth that might show me how to approach writing this post. But each time, I was met with nothing but undecipherable enigmas, like this one:

Whoever understands the first truth
Should understand the ultimate truth.
The last and the first,
Are they not the same?

– Ekai, called Mumon Wumen Huikai, The Gateless Gate (~ 1228)

Um … What?

Then there would be a grain of wisdom I could recognize, but still couldn’t quite grasp fully:

The path does not belong to the perception world, neither does it belong to the nonperception world. Cognition is a delusion and noncognition is senseless. If you want to reach the true path beyond doubt, place yourself in the same freedom as sky.

– Koan 19: “Everyday Life is the Path”, The Gateless Gate (~ 1228)

Then, suddenly, I found a bit of hope! Something a little more straightforward:

Never mind Fuketsu’s Zen. If you want to express truth, throw out your words, throw out your silence, and tell me about your own Zen.

– Ekai, called Mumon Wumen Huikai, The Gateless Gate (~ 1228)

Meanwhile, I’m writing and writing and my words are leading me nowhere. My post was basically a long, ranting complaint providing nothing of value; far from an expression of truth.

But, as it turns out, Mumon was just being a nuisance and annoying everyone with his criticisms of the old patriarchs in The Gateless Gate. The final chapter is written by a student of Mumon who accuses him of carrying on like a doughnut vendor who is forcing his doughnuts down the throats of those passing by.

Learning this was such a sigh of relief.

You mean, I’m not totally inadequate for being confused by the rantings of 13th century Chinese Zen monks?! Phew! Also, there were doughnut vendors in China in the 1200s??

Clarity and truth seemed to flow freely in my writing from then on, proving yet again that so much of what stops us from moving forward lies in our own beliefs. That flow continued on through another story about the path of discovering one’s true self and transcending the thinking mind.

And another about the all-or-nothingness of giving, loving, compassion.

Eventually, I finished my post and found my own Zen, in many ways. So, of course, I am grateful to this little book of circles and the journey it took me on. What I admire most, however, about these stories and teachings is their incredible brevity. The Zen masters knew how to say exactly as much as is needed; not a word more.

Books & References

Writings from the Zen Masters published by Penguin

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