Volume 2, Track 4
In Los Angeles, there is a fine zendo, a place where Zen is practiced, usually under a Master in Midtown near Adams Avenue. For a while, it had its own periodical which was published bimonthly. The editor was an acquaintance of mine, and one time he asked me for a favor.
He requested that I get my friend Paul Reps, author of Zen Flesh Zen Bones, to write something for his publication. I promised I would but cautioned that they may not want to print what he would write. I knew the iconoclastic Reps well. “Ask him to write about what he believes in,” they suggested, “That should make a good article.”
I dutifully kept my promise and sent the request to Reps. His answer was prompt and to the point, “What do I believe in? Nothing,” it said. “If I did believe in something, there would be two.” I gave the reply to my disappointed friends at the zendo, adding, “I told you he might not write what you wanted to print,” and they didn’t.
Actually, Rep’s comment was decidedly Zen in nature, which they should have recognized. Non-duality, the “not-two” phrase Reps referred to, is the very basis of Zen.
The oft-repeated statement that when the horse in Sichuan catches cold, the cow in Hunan sneezes, refers to this nonduality, what Huayan Buddhism calls the Buddhist totality. It is like mirrors set up facing each other, each reflecting the other and the other reflecting it to infinity. Where is there room for a hairline of demarcation? Isn’t this the same as the Patriarch Bodharma’s description to the Chinese emperor, vast emptiness and nothing holy about it. Reps was in very good company with his answer.
To listen to Justin reading Spiritual Stories of the East, click here.