[Original Koan]
Among the community under Chan Master Liangshan Guan, there was a garden steward who had realized Chan, though many in the assembly did not believe it. One day, a monk went to provoke him, hoping to make him reveal some sign of his attainment. He asked the garden steward, “Why not go out and ask the abbot a question or two, thereby forming an affinity?”
The garden steward said, “Unless I do not go out to ask a question. If I do, I will make that old fellow get down from his meditation seat and stand on the ground.”
When Liangshan ascended the Dharma seat, he indeed came forward and asked, “What is it like when it is difficult to guard against the thief within one’s own house?”
Liangshan said, “To recognize it is not to be wronged by it.”
He said, “What after recognizing it?”
Liangshan said, “Banish it to the realm of non-arising.”
He said, “Is there not even a place there for it to settle itself and establish its life?”
Liangshan said, “Dead water does not harbor dragons.”
He said, “What is the dragon in living water?”
Liangshan said, “It raises waves without making breakers.”
He said, “What if, all at once, a deep pool is overturned and a mountain toppled?”
Liangshan then indeed descended from the Dharma seat, seized him, and said, “Ācārya! Do not let the corners of this old monk’s robe get wet.”
The Master said: You should know that when one who is awakened meets another who is awakened, their giving and taking naturally make a sight worth seeing.
[Sawing Apart a Steelyard Weight]
Under Chan Master Liangshan Yuanguan of the Caodong school, there was a garden steward responsible for growing vegetables. Liangshan Guan said that he had awakened, but no one much believed it. One day, someone went to provoke the garden steward, hoping that he would display the bearing of one who had awakened. The garden steward said, “Unless I do not go out to ask a question. If I do go out to ask, I can make the old master get down from his meditation seat and stand on the ground to speak with me.” Thus, the following dialogue, which has been passed down through the ages, took place the next day:
The garden steward asked, “What is it like when it is difficult to guard against the thief within one’s own house?”—The arising of mind and stirring of thoughts are called “the thief within one’s own house.” But thoughts continually arise and stir; what is one to do?
Liangshan answered, “To recognize it is not to be wronged by it.”—When you notice that thoughts are arising and stirring within you, the light of wisdom has already arisen. Your study of Chan has not been in vain.
“What after recognizing it?”—What should one do after noticing it? Suppress it, or indulge it?
“Banish it to the realm of non-arising.”—Neither suppress it nor indulge it. Do not attend to it, and it will be unable to arise.
“Is there not even a place there for it to settle itself and establish its life?”—Should one abide in this state in which it cannot arise?
“Dead water does not harbor dragons.”—How could one abide there? How could a stagnant pool do, without lively and vibrant functioning?
“What is the dragon in living water?”—Then how does one function?
“It raises waves without making breakers.”—Though the waves surge and billow (responsive functioning), no breakers arise (non-abiding).
At this point, the dialogue should have ended. Yet the garden steward still did not let Liangshan off, but continued, “What if, all at once, a deep pool is overturned and a mountain toppled?”—Suppose the waters of a bottomless abyss are suddenly poured out, with a force sufficient to wash away mountains. What then? This is a metaphor for the moment when one takes up a blade and enters the fray: can there still be no breakers rising?
Liangshan then indeed descended from the Dharma seat, seized the garden steward, and said, “Ācārya! Do not let the corners of this old monk’s robe get wet.”—Even if a deep pool is overturned and a mountain toppled, no breakers have arisen; not even the corners of this old monk’s robe have been wetted.
In fact, Liangshan could have spoken these words while seated on the meditation seat. Why did he descend from it and stand on the ground? Look at the hidden meaning in the garden steward’s final question:
“Overturning a deep pool and toppling a mountain.” Overturning a deep pool means that the two of us fully reveal our vibrant Buddha-nature to the assembly. Toppling a mountain means: You have always sat unmoving like a mountain; this time, please also demonstrate being toppled.
Teacher and disciple were in complete accord, mind to mind. How could Liangshan have failed to understand his meaning? Moreover, he could infer that the garden steward had already boasted about it. Liangshan knew that the garden steward was a person of clear vision. Previously, when Liangshan had told everyone that he was awakened, it was so that they might learn from him; he would not mislead anyone. Today, then, he would fulfill his wish. So he descended from the Dharma seat.
Yet once was permissible; it would not do for this to happen all the time. How could one casually descend from the Dharma seat? Once the Dharma seat is moved, nothing is secure. Therefore, Liangshan seized the garden steward and cautioned him: “Do not let the corners of this old monk’s robe get wet.”—Do not boast like this again in the future. If you do, how am I to remain seated on this Dharma seat?
