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Drop all 'isms'
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Mind of a Sage
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Judging a saint
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The Fake Monk
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Rinzai's Answer
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Mystic Rengetsu
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Zen
Master Sekito
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Zen Sage & Thief
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Zen Master in Jail
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Buddha’s message
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The Game of Chess
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Innocence is Divine
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Master's Compassion
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Knowledge is Trouble
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Respond with awareness
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Tetsugen
3 set of
sutras
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You are already a Buddha
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Sound of one Hand Clapping
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Master waits 4 right Moment
- Stories 1 - 2
- Stories 3 - 4
- Stories 5 - 7
- Stories 8-9
- Stories 10
- Stories 11
- Stories 12-14
- Stories 15-16
- Stories 17-18
- Stories 19 - 21
- Stories 22 - 24
- Stories 25 - 27
- Stories 28 - 32
- Stories 33 - 36
- Stories 37 - 38
- Stories 39 - 41
- Stories 42 - 44
- Stories 45 - 46
- Stories 47 - 48
- Stories 49 - 50
- Stories 51 - 53
- Stories 54 - 56
- Stories 57 - 59
- Stories 60 - 61
- Stories 62 - 64
- Stories 65 - 66
- Stories 67 - 68
- Stories 69 - 72
- Stories 73 - 75
- Stories 76 - 78
- Stories 79 - 82
- Stories 83 - 86
- Stories 87 - 89
- Stories 90 - 91
- Stories 92 - 94
- Stories 95 - 97
- Stories 98 -101
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98. Non-Attachment
Kitano Gempo, abbot of Eihei temple was ninety-two years old when he
passed away in the year 1933. He endeavored his whole life not to be
attached to anything.
As a wandering mendicant when he was twenty he happened to meet a
traveler who smoked tobacco. As they walked together down a mountain
road they stopped under a tree to rest. The traveler offered Kitano
a smoke, which he accepted, as he was very hungry at the time.
'How pleasant this smoking is,' he commented. The other gave him an
extra pipe and tobacco and they parted. Kitano felt: ‘Such pleasant
things may disturb meditation. Before this goes too far, I will stop
now.' So he threw the smoking outfit away.
When he was twenty-three years old he studied I-King, the
profoundest doctrine of the universe. It was winter at the time and
he needed some heavy clothes. He wrote to his teacher, who lived a
hundred miles away, telling him of his need, and
gave the letter to a traveler to deliver. Almost the whole winter
passed and neither answer nor clothes arrived.
So Kitano resorted to the prescience of I-King, which also teaches
the art of divination, to determine whether or not his letter had
miscarried. He found that this had been the case. A letter
afterwards from his teacher made no mention of clothes.
'If I perform such accurate determinative work with I-King, I may
neglect my meditation,' felt Kitano. So he gave up this marvelous
teaching and never resorted to its powers again.
When he was twenty-eight he studied Chinese calligraphy and poetry.
He grew so skilful in these arts that his teacher praised him.
Kitano mused: 'If I don't stop now, I'll be a poet not a Zen
teacher.' So he never wrote another poem.
99.Tasui's Vinegar
Tosui was the Zen master who left the formalism of temples to live
under a bridge with beggars.
When he was getting very old, a friend helped him to earn his living
without begging. He showed Tosui how to collect rice and manufacture
vinegar from it and Tosui did this until he passed away.
While Tosui was making vinegar, one of the beggars gave him a
picture of the Buddha. Tosui hung it on the wall of his hut and put
a sign beside it. The sign read:
‘Mr. Amida Buddha: This little loom is quite narrow. I can let you
remain as a transient. But don't think I am asking you to help me to
be reborn in your paradise.'
100. The Silent Temple
Shochi was a one-eyed teacher of Zen, sparkling with
enlightenment. He taught his disciple in Tofuku temple.
Day and night the whole temple stood in silence. There was no sound
at all.
Even the reciting of sutras was abolished by the teacher. His pupils
had nothing to do but meditate.
What the master passed away, an old neighbor heard the ringing of
bells and the recitation of sutras. Then she knew Shoichi had gone.
101. Buddha's Zen
Buddha said:
'I consider the positions of kings and rulers as that of dust motes.
I observe treasure of gold and gems as so many bricks and pebbles.
I look upon the finest silken robes as tattered rags.
I see myriad worlds of the universe as small seeds of fruit, and the
greatest lake in India as a drop of oil on my foot.
I perceive the teachings of the world to be the illusion of,
magicians.
I discern the highest conception of emancipation as golden brocade
in a dream, and view the holy path of the illuminated one as flowers
appearing in one's eyes.
I see meditation as a pillar of a mountain, Nirvana as a nightmare
of daytime.
I look upon the judgment of right and wrong as the serpentine dance
of a dragon, and the rise and fall of beliefs as but traces left by
the four seasons.'
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