Nice article:
http://www.mountainrunnerdoc.citymaker.com/page/page/1523597.htm
...Not all Zen schools use koans, which are a form of riddle
sometimes used by the Masters to break the fixation of mind of
their students. They are solved not by giving the right answer but
by transcending the conceptual mind in the process of contemplation
of the paradox the koan represents. As such they are really only
useful chiefly for advanced practitioners, whose mind, and general
character development, are "ripe" for a breakthrough to a true
glimpse. This matter of maturity and ripeness, as well as the need
for practise after satori, is so important and apparently so rarely
found today that the the very legitimacy of such practise and
dharma transmission itself have been called into question. D.T.
Suzuki (1970-1966) considered his master, Soyen Shaku, to be the
last of the great Zen Masters. Things seem to have deteriorated
even further since he made that comment, although there have been
exceptions. Part of this is unfortunately inevitable when a
tradition or school becomes too insular and its masters and
students are uninformed by an in-depth study of their own as well
as discriminative study other philosophical teachings.
A classic koan is what is the sound of one hand clapping?, or
"what was your original face before you were born?", or simply
"Mu". Then one might be told to meditate on his koan for twenty
hours a day until he solves it. The beginning student (but still
one tested and prepared by a preliminary course of discipline)
traditionally came to the master (in what came to be known as the
'shouting and beating school", at any rate) with a clever answer
and typically got a whack from his staff or a cuff on the ear. In
some cases, the disciple may get a blow even before he
speaks:
" Master Tokusan was a much more
severe kind of Zen Master. Once a monk came to see him and,
according to the Buddhist manner, made a bow to the Master before
asking a question. However, before he had finished bowing, Tokusan
gave him a blow of his stick. The monk did not know what it was all
about, and said, "I have just bowed to you and have not asked you
any question yet. Why have you struck me?" "It is no use to wait
till you start talking," was the reply Tokusan gave him. In such a
strict denial of words we are to see how earnestly Zen insists on
the experience itself." (66)
The mere contemplation of the koan is an intense discipline and
could go on for years. It is similar to Vedantic enquiry in its
ability to concentrate the mind and also undermine one's dualistic
thinking processes. Thus it is a complement to and even a form of
meditation. Half-hearted or superficial mental efforts will not
produce the desired result. Interestingly, the disciple often gets
his worst beating when he is close to penetrating the "knot of
self" represented by the koan. This is because the seriousness of
the endeavor, its spiritual life and death nature, self-evident to
the Master, is now becoming apparent to his feeling. This often
manifests as the anguish and despair evoked by devotees like Bankei
or even Ramakrishna in the maturing stages prior to insight or a
fundamental breakthrough.
In the Zen tradition one hears of the state of the great doubt
that "burns like a ball of red-hot fire that one can neither
swallow nor spit out". One may wonder if at least part of the
meaning behind the choice of this metaphor refers to the hard inner
clenching or contraction around an imaginary center that is a
subjective symptom of egoity strongly felt (ie., St. John: "The
living flame of love makes the soul feel its hardness and
aridity."). This doubt may also be considered as a thought or
feeling-sense of the struggle with self as it begins to become
clear that you yourself , as you are , are the problem, but the
problem itself (the activity of contraction or false
identification, which is egoity) is not entirely obvious as yet.
The ordinary man in general has no such existential "doubt". He is
comfortable with a self which he unconsciously identifies with the
body. As practise increases, however, this natural conceit becomes
undermined. Certainty and knowledge turn into doubt. One no longer
knows who or what the "I" or the "world" are, yet reality itself
has yet to dawn upon his consciousness. The man at this stage has
been described as "an idiot", knowing nothing - and often in deep
despair, of an extreme existential nature. The energy of the Great
Doubt gradually is built up within his being to a critical degree.
When fundamental insight finally arises to consciousness, as
satori, often catalyzed by the perception of an external sight or
sound, the inherent distress is released and the doubt vanishes.
One then becomes one who has truly "entered the path". Prior to
satori every answer one comes up with for the koan is rejected,
which, of course, is as it should be, for short of satori no one
passes his interview with the master - assuming the master truly
has fundamental insight. Without a life of discipline,
purification, meditation (concentration/contemplation), and study,
however, it is highly unlikely for the great doubt to arise or
for a koan to be of much use. Our unconscious tendencies or vasanas
will keep us preoccupied with the world and the ego to such an
extent that insight will have difficulty arising. Further, our life
of "sleep" will not be interrupted sufficiently to allow the
insight that does manage to arise to become stable realization.
Suzuki gave an account of his first satori at age 26 using the koan
"Mu" under Soyen Shaku. In it he reveals the difference between
absorptive trance samadhi and prajna, or insight.
(continued in next post)
