Tōzan's “No Heat or Cold”

Engo's commentary on the case

Huanglong Xin raised the case and said, “Tōzan strikes the collar from the end of the sleeve and cuts the lapel from beneath the armpit. What can be done when this monk will not accept it?”² “If someone came forward now and asked Huanglong, how would I send him off?” After a long pause Huanglong said: To settle in meditation, mountains and waters are unnecessary; extinguish the fire in the mind, and one naturally becomes cool. Tell me: where does Tōzan's enclosing snare fall? Distinguish it clearly and you begin to know how Tōzan's Five Ranks, interweaving upright and inclined, receive people. They are undeniably extraordinary. Only upon reaching the realm beyond can one act like this. No arrangement is needed; it fits naturally. Thus the Five Ranks are expressed: The inclined within the upright: At the third watch, early night, before the moon shines; do not wonder that meeting, they do not recognize one another— dimly one still harbors an old resentment. The upright within the inclined: At break of dawn, an old woman encounters an ancient mirror. Clearly, face to face, there is no other truth; stop losing your head and then recognizing its reflection. Coming from within the upright: Within nothing, a road emerges from the dust. Merely avoid touching the present sovereign's tabooed name; you surpass the eloquent one of the former dynasty whose tongue was cut out. Arrival within integration: Two blades cross points—there is no need to avoid them. A skillful hand is like a lotus within fire, naturally possessing energy that pierces the sky. Attainment within integration: Falling into neither being nor nonbeing—who dares harmonize? Everyone wishes to emerge from the ordinary stream; shattered and joined, one returns to sit within the coals.³ Recorder Yuan of Fushan classified this case through the Five Ranks. Understand one and the rest become naturally easy to understand. Gantō said it is like a gourd on water: press it and it immediately turns, without spending the slightest effort. A monk once asked Tōzan, “What about when Mañjuśrī and Samantabhadra come to visit?” Tōzan said, “Drive them into the herd of water buffalo.” The monk said, “Master, you enter hell like an arrow.” Tōzan said, “I receive their strength entirely.” When Tōzan says, “Why not go to the place where there is no cold or heat?” this is the upright within the inclined. The monk asks, “What is that place?” Tōzan answers, “When cold, let the cold kill you; when hot, let the heat kill you.” This is the inclined within the upright. Although upright, it is inclined; although inclined, it is complete. The Caodong records set this out in detail. In Rinzai's lineage there is not so much business: this kind of public case is understood directly. Some say, “A fine place without cold or heat!” What grip does that have? An ancient said, “Walking on a sword blade is quick; seeing through emotional consciousness is slow.” A monk asked Suibi, “What is the ancestral teacher's meaning in coming from the west?” Suibi said, “When no one is here, I will tell you.” He then entered the garden. The monk said, “No one is here. Please tell me.” Suibi pointed to bamboo and said, “This stalk is so long; that stalk is so short.” The monk suddenly awakened. Sōzan asked a monk, “When it is so hot, where do you avoid it?” The monk said, “I avoid it inside a boiling cauldron and furnace coals.” Sōzan asked, “How do you avoid it there?” The monk said, “The many sufferings cannot reach me.” See how a person of the house naturally understands a person of the house speaking. Setchō uses the household matter to bring forth his verse. In the Caodong lineage there is emerging into the world and not emerging into the world, extending a hand and not extending a hand. Not emerging, one gazes at the cloudy heavens. Emerging, one becomes ash-covered and dirt-faced. Gazing at the cloudy heavens is the summit of a peak ten thousand fathoms high. Ash-covered and dirt-faced is the matter of extending a hand. Sometimes ash-covered and dirt-faced is itself the ten-thousand-fathom summit; sometimes the summit is itself ash-covered and dirt-faced. In truth, entering the marketplace and extending a hand is the same as standing alone on a solitary peak. Returning to the source and realizing nature does not differ from differentiated wisdom. Above all, do not understand them as two stakes. Therefore Setchō says, “Extending a hand is still the same as a cliff ten thousand fathoms high.” There is simply nowhere for you to approach. “Why arrange upright and inclined?” When their function is needed, it is naturally so and does not reside in arrangement. These lines versify Tōzan's answer. The latter part says, “The bright moon illuminates an ancient crystal hall. The clever hound of Han climbs the steps in vain.” This directly versifies the monk chasing after words. Tōzan's lineage has eighteen kinds of images—the stone woman, wooden horse, bottomless basket, night-shining pearl, dead snake, and others. In broad outline they clarify the upright position. It is like the moon illuminating an ancient crystal hall and seeming to cast a round image. Tōzan says, “Why not go to the place without cold or heat?” The monk resembles the hound of Han chasing a clod: he hurries up the steps as if to catch the moon's reflection. He asks, “What is the place without cold or heat?” Tōzan says, “When cold, let the cold kill you; when hot, let the heat kill you.” Like the hound running after the clod to the top of the steps, the monk no longer sees the moon's reflection. The hound of Han comes from the Strategies of the Warring States. The Lu of the Han clan was a swift dog, and the rabbit of Zhongshan was a cunning rabbit; only this hound could track that rabbit.⁴ As for all of you: do you recognize where Tōzan helps people? After a long pause Engo said, “What rabbit are you hunting?”