The Path to Eternal Life
The Path to Eternal Life
There was a Zen master named Dorim. Under him was a disciple named Hoetong. One day, Hoetong asked: "What is the master's Buddha-dharma?" The master immediately pulled a thread from his robe and blew it away with a puff. At that moment, Hoetong awakened.
Can you understand this? If you were to ask me, "What is truth? What is the essence of enlightenment?" and I were to pluck a single hair and blow it away with a puff, would you understand? How did Hoetong awaken? How could he reach enlightenment through such a simple pantomime?
The Jeondeungnok (Transmission of the Lamp) is not easy. If you want to clearly understand the Jeondeungnok, you must first attain enlightenment yourself, and you must have the power to see at a glance the situational language that the Zen masters are expressing.
In fact, the path to enlightenment is no different from the path to death. The path to death—that is no easy matter. "How shall I die?" When asked such a question, it is truly a dark affair. If I resolve that I must die now and prepare 100 Seconal pills, a knife, and a pistol, then hesitate about which method to use to die, I cannot die. Is it because you don't know how to die that you cannot die? In reality, death is simply taking one step forward from the edge of a rooftop without any thought—that is death itself. But when it actually confronts you, it becomes dizzyingly difficult.
Anyone who truly wants to die should be able to die immediately. To die immediately, one must die lightly. If you ponder "How should I die?" and agonize over it, it becomes increasingly difficult. It is precisely that difficult, it seems that difficult, but when you look back after awakening, it is nothing more than a single thread floating away. Zen Master Dorim was telling us to blow away with one breath that heavy heart that thinks so difficultly.
Hoetong realized that his own mind—that heavy heart of his that had been wandering in search of the Way—was nothing but a single thread. At that moment, such a thing actually happened. Hoetong's entire world of thoughts flew away like a single thread. He became an empty space. Rays of enlightenment poured down like a shower into his empty heart.
"Everyone! Just as you are, dressed as you are now, won't you come with me to live deep in the mountains, eating wild grapes and hardy kiwis? And let us never come out into such a world again." "Ah, teacher! Our circumstances don't permit it now, so after some time, when we are prepared..."
Let us treat your circumstances lightly. In fact, all such things—they are nothing but a single thread. The time will come when you know this. When you can know this, you will be able to blow away all of yours with one breath, play with it, use it as decoration anywhere, or keep it in your pocket. However, when you have not reached such a state, that thread is not a thread.
"One speck of dust forms the sands of the Ganges River."
That is countless afflictions, an ocean of suffering, Mount Sumeru. You cannot bear it. You cannot fight against it.
Your attachments—the weight of those attachments is originally nothing but a thread. Please gain for yourselves that courage to blow away with one breath all the world to which you are attached, that diamond-like strength.
Source: From "Lectures on the Little Prince: Jeondeungnok"
Jeondeungnok is a book meaning the record of Zen masters transmitting the lamp—that is, transmitting enlightenment.
