Post by CoalBucket on Jun 18, 2024 12:25:17 GMT
Yun Yen asked Tao Wu, "What does the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion use so many hands and eyes for?"
Wu said, "It's like someone reaching back groping for a pillow in the middle of the night."
Yen said, "I understand."
Wu said, "How do you understand it?"
Yen said, "All over the body are hands and eyes."
Wu said, "You have said quite a bit there, but you've only said eighty percent of it."
Yen said, "What do you say, Elder Brother?"
Wu said, "Throughout the body are hands and eyes."
(Blue Cliff Record, Case 89)
Wu said, "It's like someone reaching back groping for a pillow in the middle of the night."
Yen said, "I understand."
Wu said, "How do you understand it?"
Yen said, "All over the body are hands and eyes."
Wu said, "You have said quite a bit there, but you've only said eighty percent of it."
Yen said, "What do you say, Elder Brother?"
Wu said, "Throughout the body are hands and eyes."
(Blue Cliff Record, Case 89)
I always loved those popular iconographies of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva: Having seven or eleven heads and a thousand arms — this had a lot of appeal for a ridiculously efficient (i.e. lazy) person like me. Still, sentient (and suffering) beings are numberless — do a measly one thousand arms really fix that? And how does spontaneous function manifest in this utterly magnificent mess?
As some of you already know, I am not a huge fan of Zen Koans with their often enervating back-and-forth. And I think I don't know why. However, I sincerely hope that the Zen Koans are a huge fan of mine.
This particular example is a Koan that has loved me since I first met it almost twenty years ago. Maybe because it is just as wimpy as I seem to be.
Anyway... So, why does the ideal of compassion manifest as this all-observing, all-encompassing being? How can I relate to Avalokiteshvara's attitude and conduct?
There might be a discovery of connectedness, my capacity to remain overtly available, and not ask for authorization to offer support and comfort.
There might be a discovery of fairness, my capacity to respectfully identify boundaries, allowing each individual to inhabit their suitable personal time and space.
There might be a discovery of leniency, my capacity to recurringly relate myself to everyone's endless challenges, and the resulting frustrations that I know all too well.
There might be a discovery of tenacity, my capacity to persistently remind myself of my next chance to engage and re-engage, never expecting a completion but also not denying habituation.
There might be a discovery of composure, my capacity to staunchly acknowledge the completeness of every situation, observing all beings, things, and ideas in their magical, undisturbed growth and demise.
There might be a discovery of reliance, my capacity to expansively align with my indispensable adequacy which doesn't even demand the slightest bit of blaring endorsement.
Hmm... I think I lost track of my dear objectives. Who takes care of me now? I guess that's going to be me again:
"All over the body are hands and eyes."
But am I compassionate? Does MY body have hands and eyes?
I think it feels a bit like cheating when my mere motivation appears to emerge directly from "The Art of the Deal". If no afterlife and no almost-over-life will provide me with shiny rewards, can I find rest in this very situation at least?
It's a pity; I cannot defend myself against the relative clarity that I accidentally gained by perceiving this abundantly abhorrent yet factual injustice. My self-righteousness is not able to equalize this massacre anymore. But what could I own, what should I own, or rather what owns me?
"Throughout the body are hands and eyes."
Oh, wow...! What if there is just compassion as if it were the brittle fabric of my outlandish existence? Can I sustain and endure the resulting vulnerability?
Avalokiteshvara's head once shattered into pieces when he realized in a moment of impassable overpowering that whilst he might never succeed in his endeavor — what else could he do? What else can I do? It could be a curse or a blessing. Well, I don't really know if I should care about that but I tend to think it is beautiful nonetheless:
Sometimes, I am surprised how all these careful moments of reconnaissance unveil the obviously needed concerted amendments to my failing expositions — seeing all of what could be in me and others.
Sometimes, I am surprised how all these amazing sparks of determination repurpose my selfish proclivities to clement suggestions and contributions — I won't stop cooking the meal and sharing the meal.
Sometimes, I am surprised how all these countless streams of expression uplift me and everyone as they were regularly appointed purely by my observation — and that's exactly what is asked for.
Sometimes, I am surprised how all these alleged unconscionabilities dissolve in knowing mutuality — right from the start, right to the end, and always right in between.
A kitty is to be a lion. An offer should never be an insult. And this is not an exit but actually the vast entry, right here near the campfire.
Buddhism isn't complicated but I sometimes think it is.
"It's like someone reaching back groping for a pillow in the middle of the night."
No. Big. Deal.
That's awesome.
