My Heart is a Golden Buddha Read online

  32

  Carrying a Sheep on Your Shoulders

  A long time ago in India, a man was on his way to the temple to offer a sheep to the gods.

  He had tied its legs together and carried it over his shoulders. It was very heavy, but at that time, a sheep was the best possible offering one could make, so the man felt quite proud of what he was doing.

  He was taking heavy steps, covered in sweat, when he happened to pass a priest. The priest turned to him and said, “Why on earth are you carrying a piglet on your shoulder? You know, that’s not really a proper offering. Why don’t we roast it and eat it here, and later when you’re able, you can make a proper offering.”

  The man just stood there, without saying a word, so the priest turned and left.

  Actually, the man was stunned. Many thoughts went through his mind, most of which were along the lines of, “‘Not really a proper offering?’ ‘A piglet?’ He’s lost his mind. Can’t he see that I’m carrying a sheep?”

  Shaking his head, he continued on his way. You could almost follow the trail left by the drops of his sweat. The sun beat down on him and his steps became shorter and shorter as the sheep seemed to get ever heavier. But as he thought of the precious offering he carried, he redoubled his effort. Still, he was annoyed every time he thought about the word “piglet”!

  He’d been walking for a while when he met another priest. He didn’t expect great words of praise, but a smile or a word of encouragement would have been welcome. Do you think this is what he heard?

  No. If you can believe it, the priest said, “Why are you carrying a dog on your back? Let’s take it down to the village and they’ll cook it up nicely for us. It’d be a bit embarrassing to offer the gods a dog, wouldn’t it?”

  This time the man exploded. “Have you all lost your minds? Can’t you see that I’m carrying a sheep? Do you have any idea how expensive it was? You must be blind to look at such a first rate sheep and call it a dog!”

  The priest looked at man with an expression that said he had no idea why the man was upset. “If you don’t want to go cook this dog, that’s fine, too.” And then the priest continued on his way.

  The man just stood there, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Everybody’s gone crazy! They see a sheep, and think it’s a pig or a dog! And what’s all this about it being an embarrassing offering?”

  But angry as he was, he tried to control his emotions as he neared the temple, not wanting them to contaminate his offering. As he struggled to do this, another priest appeared before him and poked the sheep with his staff.

  “Why on earth are you carrying this heavy elephant around? If you knew how to play a flute, you could ride the elephant, instead of walking with it on your back. Tsk, tsk.”

  The priest gave the man a pitying look, shaking his head as he left. All of this was just too strange for the man.

  He set the sheep down and just stood there with his mouth open. He had been standing there for quite a while when his eyes suddenly became bright and he started chuckling.

  “Ah, now I understand. There was no need to carry all this weight around. I was just causing myself unnecessary hardship!”

  He looked at the sheep that he had carried with so much sweat and difficulty, then untied its legs. He let it go, and without even a backwards glance, he returned to his village.

  ∴

  We all are inherently endowed with our fundamental mind. Although people don’t realize this, it’s what has guided us through a billion years of evolution.

  Unfortunately, as we’ve evolved, we gathered all kinds of habits and views, and these have become karmic states of consciousness that block our awareness of our fundamental mind. So instead of correctly seeing our true nature, our sight is distorted and we think we’re seeing a pig, a dog, or an elephant. When we look at others, instead of truly seeing them, all we see is our own level of consciousness.

  This is part of what the priests had been trying to teach the man, for each one could sense that the man was finally ready to understand this.

  People have carried these heavy karmic burdens for so long that they’ve come to treasure them and don’t want to put them down. However, if you think about it, even those karmic states of consciousness have come from your foundation so what’s more natural than setting them down and entrusting them to the place they came from? You’ll feel so much lighter!

  When you completely let go of the thoughts of “me” as well, your foundation will become clear to you, and you won’t be misled by the things that arise.

  Can you imagine how free you’ll feel? This is what the priest meant by saying that the man could have been sitting on the elephant, playing a flute and riding it around.

  Start where you are right now, with your thoughts, your speech, and your actions, and entrust them as they are to your foundation. Then, one by one, the record of what you’ve done in the past will be erased. It’s recorded over, and a blank tape is all that’s left.

  The first step on this path is to let go of thoughts of “I.” When you give something or help someone, pay close attention, and when you find yourself thinking “I did this or that,” let go of those thoughts.

  If you carry around these thoughts of “I did” and “I am,” then no matter how great a donation you gave, no matter how hard you worked, your effort will never produce virtue and merit.

  If you truly want to help someone, if you truly want to give something, then do it while entrusting everything to your foundation. Then, karmic consciousnesses won’t be formed, and true virtue and merit will arise.

  33

  True Giving

  One day, when the sunims were out collecting donations of food for their temple, one sunim entered the yard of a house that looked so poor he felt guilty about asking them for anything.

  He turned around and was leaving when the owner called out to him. His family had very little, but they wanted to make an offering.

  Not having any food, this family had gone around asking people for the water they washed their rice in, which was normally just thrown away. They added a bit of rice to this water and boiled it down until it thickened a bit. Then they would drink it like a soup.

  Using their best bowl and a serving table, the family offered a bowl of this rice water to the sunim, who humbly accepted it.

  As the sunim drank it, he was moved to tears by their sincerity and wanted to do something to help them. He had nothing of his own to give, but he could find them some firewood. So, later in the day, he took up an empty pack and headed into the mountains. He collected all the wood he could carry and was on his way to their house when he met his teacher.

  His teacher asked him what he was doing, and the sunim explained the whole story to him. As soon as the sunim finished, his teacher swung his staff around and started beating the sunim’s legs mercilessly, roaring:

  “What do you think you’re doing? You’re a sunim! For years now you’ve been studying this vast and profound fundamental mind! You should be helping them through formless giving! Once they’ve burnt up that wood, your help is gone! And you would call that giving?!”

  The sunim rolled around on the ground, still wearing his pack load of firewood, clutching his calves, with tears streaming down his face. Finally he sat up and was wiping away his tears and blood when suddenly he understood formless giving.

  “That’s it! That’s it!” Blood was still trickling down his leg, but now he understood the principle of entrusting a thought to his fundamental mind.

  All of his pain and shock were forgotten, and he felt so light and free that he thought he might start flying. He took all of his gratitude and best wishes for the family and silently entrusted them to his foundation.

  Before too long, the family that had given him the rice water began to flourish until eventually they became one of the most prosperous families in the village.

  ∴

  The benefit of raising a good thought for someone and entrusting that to yo
ur fundamental mind can’t be compared to the temporary help that material goods provide.

  When you selflessly entrust a wish to help someone to your foundation, when you do this while letting go of any hint of “I’m doing” or “I did,” then that help continues without ceasing. It never ends, and it helps them on a very fundamental level. Not only that, the virtue and merit of that act eventually returns to you.

  Pay careful attention to the thoughts you’re giving rise to. “I don’t know anything,” “I’m sick,” “I don’t have anything”—don’t let statements like these guide your thinking, speech, or actions. Don’t let them become excuses for thinking of only yourself.

  If you do, the results will not be good. This is because all of your thoughts, words, and actions return to you. They are input into your foundation and then come back out with different appearances. If you use your mind narrowly and shallowly, the poverty of that opens up before you. If you use your mind deeply and inclusively, peace and warmth lie as far as the eye can see.

  Truly, a single thought can create heaven, and a single thought can create hell.

  Afterword

  When the first edition of this beautiful little book, My Heart is a Golden Buddha, by one of Korea’s foremost Seon Masters, the nun Daehaeng Kun Sunim, was delivered to me in New York, its size and shape fit comfortably in the palm of my hand as if it belonged here. It brought to mind a “Book of Hours,” one of those famous little works calligraphed and illustrated by hand in medieval European monasteries in the days before printing. They were small, precious books that people kept close to them and read over and over again as portable prayer books.

  Reading this book, I was reminded of the wondrous medieval Japanese story collections I discovered as a graduate student. These were stories about kings and generals, bandits and monks, and poor farmers. And there were also salt-makers, nuns, soldiers, scholars, fishermen, ladies of the court, star-crossed lovers, and elderly couples praying for the birth of a longed-for child. They contained the whole panorama of life on earth. There were even stories about the longings and needs of plants and animals, told as if there were no distinctions between them and human beings. Scholars mistook these for children’s tales, but like the present stories, they were actually windows into the dilemmas and liberation of the human heart.

  One collection I was particularly fond of had eventually been printed by wood-block in the 17th century under the title of Otogi-zōshi (御伽草子). The title is difficult to translate, but it means something like “stories that will keep you company.” I loved this title. It was as if the stories were to function as a parent leading a child, or a nurse lending comfort and strength to one weak in body, or a spiritual master guiding one who feels lost or who wavers. The miraculous power of faith and the astonishing strength that can emerge from the human heart in life and across lifetimes was evident everywhere in these stories. Whenever one felt in need of direction, comfort, or guidance, the collection was waiting at one’s elbow, a silent companion, ready to shed light.

  Now, here in the 21st century, Daehaeng Kun Sunim has continued this tradition with down-to-earth stories about simple, recognizable people doing all manner of everyday interesting things, yet rich with wisdom that emanates from the depths of Korean Buddhist culture. Each tale, though seemingly short and simple, suddenly and unexpectedly releases dammed up perceptions and allows the free flow of resolutions to timeless problems that all earth’s inhabitants face. When we pick up this book we may imagine ourselves to be alone, in search of the key to life’s problems. Yet as we read her words, story after story, our essential being seems to well up and flow, and we perceive our true natures to be one with the river of the universe.

  My Heart is a Golden Buddha is in the true sense a companion book, easy to be with, both fun and comforting, to read again and again to keep one company on the path of life as one seeks first to find, and then to let go. Seon Master Daehaeng’s words fall like rain, fill our ears; and fish dance and sing. All readers, young and old, can feel the golden light of the Buddha spreading over them as it shines from her Buddha heart.

  These stories resonate beyond Korea and across the world. They are wonderful bedtime reading, parents to child; and wonderful morning reading with that first quiet cup of tea or coffee before the full day ahead; and wonderful to read in old age on quiet, reflective, late afternoons.

  One mind, across all ages, all cultures, all generations, all species, across time, glowing golden like a Buddha.

  Barbara Ruch

  Professor Emeritus, Columbia University

  Director of the Institute for Medieval Japanese Studies

  About the Author

  Daehaeng Kun Sunim (1927-2012)6 was a rare teacher in Korea: a female seon(zen) master, a nun whose students included monks as well as nuns, and a teacher who helped revitalize Korean Buddhism by dramatically increasing the participation of young people and men.

  She broke out of traditional models of spiritual practice to teach in such a way that allowed anyone to practice and awaken, making laypeople a particular focus of her efforts. At the same time, she was a major force for the advancement of Bhikkunis (nuns), heavily supporting traditional nuns’ colleges as well as the modern Bhikkuni Council of Korea.

  Born in Seoul, Korea, she awakened when she was around eight years old and spent the years that followed learning to put her understanding into practice.

  For years, she wandered the mountains of Korea, wearing ragged clothes and eating only what was at hand. Later, she explained that she hadn’t been pursuing some type of asceticism; rather, she was just completely absorbed in entrusting everything to her fundamental Buddha essence and observing how that affected her life.

  Those years profoundly shaped Kun Sunim’s later teaching style; she intimately knew the great potential, energy, and wisdom inherent within each of us, and recognized that most of the people she encountered suffered because they didn’t realize this about themselves.

  Seeing clearly the great light in every individual, she taught people to rely upon this inherent foundation, and refused to teach anything that distracted from this most important truth.

  Her deep compassion made her a legend in Korea long before she formally started teaching. She was known for having the spiritual power to help people in all circumstances with every kind of problem. She compared compassion to freeing a fish from a drying puddle, putting a homeless family into a home, or providing the school fees that would allow a student to finish high school. And when she did things like this, and much more, few knew that she was behind it.

  Kun Sunim saw that for people to live freely and go forward in the world as a blessing to all around them, they needed to know about this bright essence that is within each of us.

  To help people discover this for themselves, she founded the first Hanmaum Seon Center in 1972 and began to teach. For forty years she gave wisdom to those who needed wisdom, food and money to those who were poor and hungry, and compassion to those who were hurting.

  How can words possibly express our gratitude for how much your wisdom and compassion have meant to us?

  We’ll take what you taught us and put it into practice through our daily lives.

  Sharing it with all we meet, we’ll strive to become a blessing to all around us.

  ***

  For more information about Seon Master Daehaeng and Hanmaum Seon Centers, please visit us at www.hanmaum.org

  Hanmaum Seon Center

  101-62 Seoksu-dong,

  Anyang-si, Gyeonggi-do, 430-040

  Republic of Korea

  E-mail: [email protected]

  My Heart is a Golden Buddha: Buddhist stories from Korea

  by Seon Master Daehaeng

  Copyright © Hanmaum Seonwon Foundation, 2014

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work in any form.

  ISBN: 978-89-91857-37-7

  Hanmaum Publications

  101-60 Seoksu-dong

/>   Anyang-si, Gyeonggi-do 430-040

  South Korea

  www.hanmaumbooks.com/

  Cover Design by Su Yeon Park

  English translation and editing by

  Hanmaum International Culture Institute.

  Footnotes

  1 Seon (Chan, Zen): Seon describes the unshakeable state where one has firm faith in their inherent foundation, their Buddha-nature, and so returns everything they encounter back to this fundamental mind. It also means letting go of “I,” “me,” and “mine” throughout one’s daily life.

  2 Sunim is the polite title for a Buddhist monk or nun in Korea.

  3 Nanyue Huairang (南嶽 懷讓, 677 ~744): Considered one of the greatest disciples of the Sixth Patriarch, Huineng.

  4 Mazu Daoyi (馬祖道一, 709 ~ 788): One of the greatest chan masters of China. Students in his lineage would go on to found the majority of the chan lineages in China and Korea.

  5 Juingong [ ju-in -gong] (主人空):”Juin(主人)” means the true doer or the master, and “gong(空)”” means empty. Thus Juingong is our true nature, our true essence, the master within that is always changing and manifesting, without a fixed form or shape.

  6 Kun Sunim is the title given to outstanding Buddhist nuns or monks in Korea.

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