u/EmbersBumblebee

A Zen Trap: A trap in the Zen tradition is an event or an interaction in which conditions arise that invite self-deception that are then made apparent as being such.

Intentional or not intentional? "Who is setting this trap?"

Self-deception is exactly what it says it is: it is someone that decieves themselves. This suggests that traps are essentially made and sprung by the people who spend time around and talking to Zen Masters and not the Zen Masters themselves. If a Zen Master intentionally traps someone, how can it be said that it wasn't the Zen Master that was being deceptive?

However, at the same time, it is definitely possible that Zen Masters know when someone they are talking to have decieved themselves. Thus, all they need to do is pull the rug out from under them. The question is, is that act of pulling the rug an intentional thing, or is it simply something that naturally happens from their own sincerity?

Here is what I believe to be a textbook example of a trap:

A monk asked, "What is 'the ultimate word'?"
Zhao Zhou coughed.
The monk said, "That's it, isn't it?"
Zhao Zhou said, "Alas, they won't even let me cough."

What do we understand about Zen Masters? For one thing, they have an obligation to answer. This makes cases like this very interesting. As I said in my other post, I don't think Zen Masters actually believe they are obligated to do anything. What is hilarious to me is that even when they might ignore any idea of an obligation to answer, everyone around them still finds a way to explain how what they did was an answer. That's just so funny... am I alone in thinking that's funny?

So, we come to this case. A monk asks for the ultimate. The master coughs.

This fricken monk thinks the cough means something! And I know, I know, many of you reading this probably think so, too. But I'm going to ask you to take one step back and just appreciate how ridiculous that is. How many times have you heard people cough in your day to day life, and thought: this right here is the ultimate truth? The ultimate truth of what?? Pneumonia??

But nevertheless the poor monk saw something really immense in that cough. But just look at Zhao Zhou! What do you see? "They won't let me cough!" Does this seem like someone who was trying to communicate anything ultimate? Nope. Just a cough.

What happened, then, to the monk when he heard Zhao Zhou's answer? Something died in him. He reached for the Great Answer to Reality just to be RKOed by banality. This right here was what Zhao Zhou constantly did to people. But, again, who set the trap?

All he did was cough!

> Nan Quan came to speak to the monks. The master asked, "Bright or dark?"
Nan Quan returned to his room.
The master left the hall and said, "At one question of mine that old priest was forced into silence and could not answer."
The head monk said, "Don't say that he was silent. It is only that you didn't understand."
The master struck him and said, "Actually, this blow should have been given to that old fool Nan Quan himself."

Recorded Sayings of Zhao Zhou Case 2

This will be my second time doing a run down of this case.

The first time was last year on the Zen Talking podcast, where the interpretation presented to me was that "bright or dark" was an inquisition on the part of Zhou Zhoa on whether or not Nan Quan was enlightened.

That seems simple and clear enough. Brightness of mind being enlightened makes sense given the idea of a mind emitting "light" once there is transmission.

James Green's interpretation is that brightness is talking about differentiation and darkness is about sameness. Zhao Zhou is thus asking Nan Quan which side he is going to teach about. I'm skeptical of this because sameness and differentiation are not the only things a Zen Master might talk about.

I am going to propose a new hypothesis as to the meaning of "bright" and "dark", but before I do that, there are certain premises that I want to establish.

1. Zen Masters are ordinary people with ordinary minds.
2. Part of being a Zen Master is the ability to reject poison.
3. Bare with me on this one: unenlightened people that see someone as enlightened, that is having a mind that is foreign to them and unordinary, is a poison to everyone involved. I believe you can find in many places in the record Zen Masters rejecting the poison that is the idea of their own enlightenment as seen by others. They do this by being completely ordinary and doing ordinary things.

With premise 3, which is something I really want to press hard about because I genuinely believe it is important for understanding Zen Masters and the record in general, it is important to understand that Zen masters are ordinary people that are ruthlessly commited to being ordinary. I believe then that there is a plight to being a Zen Master which is that while they are constantly being ordinary they are also constantly surrounded by people treating them as holy figures. They are people of no rank that are constantly being upheld by others.

Thus, that means given the oppurtunity they often reject their own enlightened image in front of students. They reject their obligation of answering. (I have heard that Nan Quan leaving is an answer. I am going to make the case that that isn't it.) They reject the precepts. (Killed cat).

My argument is that after hearing the question "bright or dark", Nan Quan chose darkness. But not as an answer to Zhao Zhou, but as treatment to his own mind.

Nan Quan is essentially showing "As an enlightened master you know I must answer, but if I don't answer, then what does that make me?" He gets up and leaves. Everyone of course sees that as an answer(except the one with an eye..). But I will plant my stake and say that when a Zen Master does this they are purposely not answering and denying their obligation. It is an act of rejecting poison. Zen Masters must answer. I didn't answer. Does that mean people will no longer view me as a foreign entity and instead as an equal, which is the only healthy type of relationship that exists?

To better explain why being in the position of a Zen Master can be poisonous, we can easily see how fame and exceptionalism impacts celebrities. How many of them become addicts and end up with a ruined mental health? The wise ones are the ones that reject the poison of fame by having strict privacy standards and personally making an effort to be ordinary. It is evident that in all walks of human life, being ordinary is a must when it comes to living a healthy life.

So, what happens when you are met with being unordinary? What happens when everyone sees a super star? You can easily see how that is brightness. You are a star. You are a super hero. You are special and have extremely rare talents.

This is a poison that people constantly chase and gobble up. Zen Masters know better. And how do they take care of themselves in the face of this?

They choose darkness.

Think of it like a self-talk into reality. "I am not a Zen Master. I am not enlightened." After all these are all human constructs. Who decided to call it "enlightenment"? How do I know I didn't experience something different than the Buddha? A Zen Masters is someone who is capable of washing away their own exceptionalism and has the wisdom to desire to do so. Thoughts arise and they say "No." to them. That's the down button.

But they are also capable of choosing brightness. Which is what Zhao Zhou did by demonstrating his virtuosity. I genuinely think that in this case we are witnessing someone reaching for victory and someone wanting defeat. The big question is: is Zhao Zhou purposely relieving Nan Quan of duty? Now that's very interesting. OR even better. Nan Quan chooses darkness (death) and Zhao Zhou obliges by killing him. Maybe they were acting as a team. Not competitors.

I believe bright or dark is therefore a function of mind that Zen Masters know how to use like an elevator. And the point of the elevator is good mental health and your ability to change in order to cross barriers and achieve your goals.

Sun Face Buddha, Moon Face Buddha
What kind of people were the Ancient Emperors?
For twenty years I have suffered bitterly;
How many times I have gone down into the Blue Dragon's cave for you!
This distress is worth recounting;
Clear-eyed patchrobed monks should not take it lightly.

On June 6th, 1944, somewhere around 300,000 Allied troops landed in Normandy, France, on a mission to liberate Western Europe from Nazi rule.

At the time, somewhere in the French countryside and in a Catholic monastery in Paris hid my Jewish grandparents who were only small children at the time.

On July 16th and 17th, 1942, their parents, uncles, and aunts, my family, were rallied in a stadium in Paris and loaded into trucks that carried them to trains that then carried most of them to Auschwitz to be immediately executed. This event is known as La Ralph du Vel' d'Hiv.

I was around 6 years old when my grandparents started teaching me about the holocaust. It was my first exposure to moral outrage. I became obsessed with understanding how such a thing could happen. The reality of Nazism and the holocaust was a constant barrier to understanding life and people in general. It seemed self-evident that evil existed, and that I should beware of it in others, and even myself. The only thing that made sense as a child was that they were evil monsters. Over time, I began to understand the cold hard truth: they were all too human, and that whatever guided them to such horror could guide me if I followed my worst impulses.

But the Nazis aren't really the people that shaped or defined me.

On the night of June 5th, 1944, American paratroopers set out to fly passed enemy defenses and neutralize various objectives on the western flank of the invasion.

One of those paratroopers was Lieutenant Richard Winters. I never met him, but it is him and those like him of which I owe my life to. For if it wasn't for what they did, my grandparents could very well have been eventually found and killed.

Picture this, or at least try to: you are staring out of an open door frame thousands of feet above ground. There is a red light to your right signaling you to wait. Outside the window you see and feel massive explosions setting off not too far away. In front of you, you see another plane that is carrying the rest of your company.

It gets hit. And you witness your fellow soldiers burn alive before they crash down into the ground.

You then see a green light.

And you jump.

You jump straight into hell, misery, and death.

You have fear, but your courage is stronger.

And in the deep darkness of hell is where you fight the most crucial battle.

So, who is Embers? What is he doing here?

I'm a child who dreams of being a warrior. I want to return the favor, or in a way fight the same mission as Richard Winters was fighting: which is whatever must be done for humanity's sake.

Why Zen?

Because Zen isn't about preaching and declaring what you must do to save yourself.

First and foremost, it is about meeting people where they are and saying "I have been here before, and I know the way out."

Zen Masters make a commitment to going into hell to meet people. And while I have no idea if I am even close to being a Zen Master, I know hell. And I got out. And while hell is still out there for people, I have something to do.

The Blue Dragon's cave is where I make my living. Not because I want to be a hero, but because there is nothing like sharing light with those who are in utter darkness.

And by my life or death, this light I have found will not stand idle and unconcerned.

It's simply not how I was raised.

The king that sat on the highest throne just last week is now gone without a trace.

His great sword of mighty power now reduced to immagination.

Why is it so?

The snake that is faced with the passing of time knows to shed its own skin.

The cold winter brings a thick coat for wild beasts.

When such nature is seen, why would toxins not immediately be spat out?

Why would any king want to sit on a hollow throne?