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?
