Karin Ryuku Kempe takes up the case of Yantou the Ferryman:
When Yantou was in Shatai, he was a ferryman on a lake in Ezhou. On each side of the lake hung a board; when someone wanted to cross, he or she would knock on the board. Yantou would call out, “Who is it?”or “Which side are you crossing to?” Then he would wave his oars, come out from the reeds, and go to meet the traveler. One day a woman carrying a child in her arms appeared and said, “I have nothing to ask you about plying the oars or handling the pole,” she said, “But where did the child I am holding in my arms come from?” He struck the woman with the oar. The woman said, “I have given birth to seven children; six of them didn’t meet anyone who truly understood them, and this one will not be any good either.” She then threw it into the water. (Zen Echoes: Classic Koans with Verse Commentaries by Three Female Chan Masters by Zishou Miaozong, p. 117.)
Karin Roshi comments:
Can we just let go, immerse ourselves so completely in Mu, in this one breath, this complete moment, that there is nothing that is not completely soaked?
Cathy Wright takes up case 8 in The Gateless Barrier:
Master Gettan said to a monk: “Keichu made a cart whose wheels had a hundred spokes. Take both front and rear parts away and remove the axle: then what will it be?”
Cathy comments:
We work on a koan until we are out of answers, and then the koan begins to work on us; and the question “What will it be?” springs forth the way a fox springs from a bush.
We have been simply delighted with the absolute abundance of flowers around the temple and in our Zen garden this spring and summer. Since the garden was only planted last year, this is really the first time we have seen it well established and in bloom, and it’s a complete joy. Our special thanks to Desi Wood of Dobro Design, who designed the garden, and to the crew of Phase One Landscapes, who installed it. If any are wondering, we do also expect to soon replace some trees and plants around the grounds that did not survive last season, and look forward to having the landscaping essentially complete at that point.
Karin Ryuku Roshi takes up case 20 in the Book of Serenity:
Dizang asked Fayan, “What are you up to these days?”
Fayan said, “I’m wandering at random.”
Dizang said, “What do you expect from wandering?”
Fayan said, “I don’t know.”
Dizang said, “Not knowing is most intimate.”
Karin Roshi comments:
“I don’t know” is actually the absence of any form of identification. It contains both knowing and not knowing, and yet does not stand opposed to either. It takes off our clothes, removes our possessions, even our skin, our hair color and eyes. It’s laying down the karmic burden of our life that we drag around constantly, like a bag of rocks.
