Hōgen greatly admired this attitude on the part of the disciple of the famous Jōshu, and said, “Truly, you are a lion’s child!”

In Zen literature, Dharma’s coming from the west, that is, from India, is quite frequently made the subject of the discourse. When a question is asked as to the real object of his coming over to China, it refers to the ultimate principle of Buddhism, and has nothing to do with his personal motive which made him cross the ocean, landing him at some point along the southern coast of China. The historical fact is not the issue here. And to this all-important question numerous answers are given, but so varied and so unexpectedly odd, yet according to Zen masters all expressive of the truth of their teaching.

This contradiction, negation, or paradoxical statement is the inevitable result of the Zen way of looking at life. The whole emphasis of its discipline is placed on the intuitive grasping of the inner truth deeply hidden in our consciousness. And this truth thus revealed or awakened within oneself defies intellectual manipulation, or at least cannot be imparted to others through any of dialectical formulas. It must come out of oneself, grow within oneself, and become one with one’s own being. What others, that is, ideas or images can do, is to indicate the way where lies the truth. This is what Zen masters do. And the indicators given by them are naturally unconventionally free and refreshingly original. As their eyes are always fixed on the ultimate truth itself, anything and everything they can command is utilised to accomplish the end, regardless of its logical conditions and consequences. This indifference to logic is sometimes asserted purposely, just to let us know that the truth of Zen is independent of the intellect. Hence the statement in the Prañā-pāramitā Sūtra, that “Not to have any Dharma to discourse about—this is discoursing about the Dharma.” (Dharmadeśanā dharmadeśaneti subhūte nāsti sa kaścid dharmo yo dharmadeśanā nāmotpalabhyate.)

Haikyu (P‘ei Hsiu), a state minister of the T‘ang dynasty, was a devoted follower of Zen under Ōbaku. One day[6.25] he showed him a manuscript in which his understanding of Zen was stated. The master took it, and setting it down beside him, made no movement to read it, but remained silent for some little while. He then said, “Do you understand?” “Not quite,” answered the minister. “If you have an understanding here,” said the master, “there is something of Zen. But if it is committed to paper and ink, nowhere is our religion to be found.” Something analogous to this we have already noticed in Hakuin’s interview with Shōju Rōnin. Being a living fact, Zen is only where living facts are handled. Appeal to the intellect is real and living as long as it issues directly from life. Otherwise, no amount of literary accomplishment or of intellectual analysis avails in the study of Zen.

V

So far Zen appears to be nothing but a philosophy of negation and contradiction, whereas in fact it has its affirmative side, and in this consists the uniqueness of Zen. In most forms of mysticism, speculative or emotional, their assertions are general and abstract, and there is not much in them that will specifically distinguish them from some of the philosophical dictums. Sings Blake for instance:

“To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour.”