Zen Stories

85. Time to Die
Ikkyu, the Zen master, was very clever even as a boy. His teacher had a precious teacup, a rare antique. Ikkyu happened to break this cup and was greatly perplexed. Hearing the footsteps of his teacher, he held the pieces of the cup behind him.

When the master appeared, Ikkyu asked: 'Why do people have to die?'
‘This is natural,' explained the older man. 'Everything has to die and has just so long to live.'
Ikkyu, producing the shattered cup, added: 'It was time for your cup to die.'

86 The Living Buddha and the Tubmaker
Zen masters give personal guidance in a secluded room. No one enters while teacher and pupil are together.

Mokurai, the Zen master of Kennin temple in Kyoto, used to enjoy talking with merchants and newspapermen as well as with his pupils. A certain tubmaker was almost illiterate. He would ask foolish questions of Mokurai have tea, and then go away.

One day while the tubmaker was there Mokurai wished to give personal guidance to a disciple so he asked the tubmaker to wait in another room.

'I understand you are a living Buddha,' the man protested. 'Even the stone Buddha’s in the temple never refuse the numerous persons who come together before them. Why then should I be excluded?' Mokurai had to go outside to see his disciple.

87. Three Kinds of Disciples
A Zen master named Gettan lived in the latter part of the Tokugawa era. He used to say: ' There are three kinds of disciples: those who impart Zen to others, those who maintain the temples and shrines, and then there are the rice bags and the clothes-hangers.'

Gasan expressed the same idea. When he was studying under Tekisui, his teacher was very severe. Sometimes he even beat him. Other pupils would not stand this kind of teaching and quit.

Gasan remained saying: 'A poor disciple utilizes a teacher's influence. A fair disciple admires a teacher's kindness. A good disciple grows strong under a teacher's discipline.'

88. How to Write a Chinese Poem
A well-known Japanese poet was asked how to compose a Chinese poem. The usual Chinese poem is four lines,' he explained. The first line contains the initial phrase; the second line, the continuation of that phase; the third line turns from this subject and begins a new one; and the fourth line brings the first three lines together.

A popular Japanese song illustrates this:
‘Two daughters of a silk merchant live in Kyoto,
The elder is twenty, the younger, eighteen.
A soldier may kill with his sword,
But these girls slay men with their eyes.'