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For Masao Abe & My Dear Friend Jeff
Hearing a crow with no mouth
Cry in the deep
Darkness of the night,
I feel a longing for
My father before he was born.
from A Zen Harvest, translated by Sōiku Shigematsu
Contents
Preface
When Ninagawa-Shinzaemon, linked verse poet and Zen devotee, heard that Ikkyū, abbot of the famous Daitokuji in Murasakino (violet field) of Kyoto, was a remarkable master, he desired to become his disciple. He called on Ikkyū, and the following dialogue took place at the temple entrance:
Ikkyū: Who are you?
Ninagawa: A devotee of Buddhism.
Ikkyū: You are from?
Ninagawa: Your region.
Ikkyū: Ah. And what’s happening there these days?
Ninagawa: The crows caw, the sparrows twitter.
Ikkyū: And where do you think you are now?
Ninagawa: In a field dyed violet.
Ikkyū: Why?
Ninagawa: Miscanthus, morning glories, safflowers, chrysanthemums, asters.
Ikkyū: And after they’re gone?
Ninagawa: It’s Miyagino (field known for its autumn flowering).
Ikkyū: What happens in the field?
Ninagawa: The stream flows through, the wind sweeps over.
Amazed at Ninagawa’s Zen-like speech, Ikkyū led him to his room and served him tea. Then he spoke the following impromptu verse:
I want to serve
You delicacies.
Alas! the Zen sect
Can offer nothing.
At which the visitor replied:
The mind which treats me
To nothing is the original void—
A delicacy of delicacies.
Deeply moved, the master said, “My son, you have learned much.”
Speaking those words, perhaps Ikkyū recalled harsh treatment he received from his second master, Kasō Sōdon, in the very same circumstances. Kasō had ignored him completely while he waited five days outside his temple gate, then had disciples pour water over his head. It would have taken much more to discourage this would-be disciple. Finally Kasō agreed to take him on. It could not have been his kindly disposition that encouraged Ninagawa to approach Ikkyū, whose reputation was fierce. Rather all he heard of the great master, famed painter and poet, suggested such an approach might please Ikkyū, which proved to be the case for the fortunate Ninagawa.
Ikkyū Sōjun, according to traditional sources, was born in 1394, the natural child of the Emperor Go Komatsu and a favorite lady in waiting, of the Fujiwara clan, at the Kyoto court. The Empress, seething, it’s told, had her banished to a low section of the city, where Ikkyū was born. At six the boy was sent for training to Kyoto’s Ankokuji Temple. Precocious, by thirteen he was composing poems in Chinese, a poem, no less, daily. At fifteen he wrote lines that were recited everywhere. He was already extremely independent, something of a gadfly. There was much that bothered him about temple life, its pious snobbery over family connections, and he nettled fellow monks with his sharp comments.
By seventeen Ikkyū had a Zen master, Ken’ō, with whom he lived for four years, until Ken’ō’s death. Ken’ō was known for modesty and compassionate concern for the welfare of his disciples, and his loss affected Ikkyū profoundly. In comparison with Ken’ō, other Zen masters seemed ridiculously ostentations and, in matters of temple ritual, nitpicking. Seeking another master, Ikkyū chose a severe disciplinarian of the Rinzai sect named Kasō Sōdon. He was of the Daitokuji Temple line, whose distinguished lineage led to Hakuin (1686–1769), among its greatest heirs. While Kasō was aware of the importance of such lineage, and performed his abbot’s duties faithfully, he preferred living in a small temple in Kataka, a short distance from Kyoto on the shore of Lake Biwa.
When twenty-five, Ikkyū, hearing a song from the Heike Monogatari, suddenly penetrated a koan (Zen problem for meditation) given him by Kasō, and he always was to speak of the moment as his first kenshō (awakening). But a more profound experience came two years later. While meditating in a boat on Lake Biwa, hearing a crow call, he was immediately, fully enlightened.
He hurried to Kasō for approval of his satori, but the master said, “This is the enlightenment of a mere arhat, you’re no master yet.” Ikkyū replied, “Then I’m happy to be an arhat, I detest masters.” At which Kasō declared, “Ha, now you really are a master.”
After his awakening Ikkyū stayed with the master, taking care of him in growing illness, a paralysis of the lower limbs that necessitated his being carried everywhere. Ikkyū’s unflagging