Chapter 4: The Secret to Escaping the Sea of Suffering

The Secret to Escaping the Sea of Suffering

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The Secret to Escaping the Sea of Suffering

Liu Guozong

"Chan meditation" is a Buddhist term meaning to remove the ** and vulgar thoughts from the mind, entering a state of self-reflection, self-enlightenment, detachment from the mundane, and the emptiness of the four elements. Buddhism holds that "life is like a sea of suffering." Fame, profit, rank, money, and beauty in the world are like bitter seawater; the more you obtain, the greater the suffering. If someone can abandon these, they can "leave suffering and attain Buddha (blessing)."

From the day one leaves the mother's womb, one lives in this "sea." Buddhism calls on all beings to escape this "sea of suffering," but where would it bring people? To outer space? Even if one went to outer space, would the heart still not remain in the mundane? It is said that the great Song dynasty poet Su Dongpo also liked practicing Chan. He spent his life pursuing fame and was troubled by it. Thus, when troubled, he wanted to escape this "sea of suffering." But wanting to escape the sea of suffering is impossible; if one treats "Buddha" as a temporary "haven," a brief rest, letting body and mind rest there a little, that too is a great joy in life. If one wanted to live there long-term, for a person in the mundane world it would be impossible, especially for someone with a strong desire for fame—that would truly be called "an Arabian night." Su Dongpo pondered Chan over and over, using his own words: "I wish to ride the wind and return, fearing that the jade pavilions and crystal palaces, high places are not to be endured with cold. Dancing and playing with my clear shadow, what comparison is there in the human world?" The great poet said, although that place is pure, holy, and beautiful, it is too cold, unsuitable for human habitation, not a place for humans to live. Better to remain in the human world.

Although the human world has deceit, malice, satire, attack, jealousy, hatred; having money is also suffering, lacking money is also suffering, idleness is also suffering, busyness is also suffering, birth is also suffering, aging is also suffering, illness is also suffering, love is also suffering, parting is also suffering, gain is also suffering, loss is also suffering. Where does the source of this "sea of suffering" come from? Using Buddhist terms, it comes from selfishness and greed. If a person rids themselves of selfishness and greed, only then can they truly escape the sea of suffering. Otherwise they will remain forever trapped in the sea of suffering.

Is this the secret to escaping the sea of suffering?

35

If you are still a blade of grass now

Liu Guozong

I recall a song praising grass, whose lyrics roughly mean: "No floral fragrance, no towering height, see my companions spread to the ends of the earth." Grass receives praise because of its abundance. Clearly the author praises the collective of grass, not individual blades. The saying goes, "Many hands make great strength"; grass wins by numbers. When things become numerous, they also lose value. "Rarity makes things precious."

The giant panda, being rare, is called a 'national treasure.' Yet the practical value of the giant panda is far less than that of grass spreading to the ends of the earth. Grass can adorn the land and sometimes shield people from wind and fish; whereas the bear, aside from eating bamboo leaves, trampling grass, can do anything. But in this world, nobody wants to be an unknown blade of grass, while everyone strives to be a giant panda—yet not everyone succeeds. The reason is simple: grass is often trampled upon by people **, stepped on, and forever forgotten; whereas the giant panda's treatment is far superior. Among those who ** and trample grass are the giant pandas themselves.

For those who are grass, no matter how you stand out or excel, you remain forever "grass," overlooked, disdained, contemptuous, even ** and trampled. This is also simple: if you are useless to the world, or become greatly useful, you must willingly be overlooked, disdained, contemptuous, even ** and trampled.

36

Kill the one that doesn't call

Liu Guozong

Once Zhuangzi visited a friend as a guest; the friend wanted to slaughter a goose to entertain him. The servant asked: 'Two geese, one that honks, one that does not. Which should we kill?' Zhuangzi's friend said: 'Just kill the one that does not honk.' Look, the goose that does not honk is first the object of slaughter. If you do not honk, you are useless. In this world, useless things cannot let you eat idly for free. For others, if you serve no purpose, it means you are eliminated, 'slaughtered,' 'killed.' Any grievances?

37

That bitter neem tree in my hometown

Liu Guozong

A solitary bitter neem tree grows beside a tiny stream in my hometown. It is called solitary because around it are only locust trees and small thickets. In wind and rain, its trunk often suffers damage from those locust trees and small thickets. Perhaps this is because the bitter neem's trunk and branches tower above them? Even those vines, in their season of vigor, wrap the bitter neem tree, leaving scars upon scars.

In late spring to early summer, when you approach that tiny stream in my hometown from afar, you can see a purple‑pink, umbrella‑shaped flower cluster held high above a gray‑green backdrop. How splendid, how noble! It makes one feel: spring, which had seemed to have departed, has returned.

At this moment the bitter neem tree, with its umbrella‑shaped purple‑pink flower cluster, is like a beautiful period at the end of spring, giving people a delightful surprise and a few fragrant memories as they begin to forget spring.

Yet no matter how splendid and noble this bitter neem tree is, or how unique, its fate is forever the same as that of the locust trees and small thickets that constantly scar its trunk, and even the vines that entwine it: ignored, disdained, scorned, forgotten, arbitrarily chopped down and trampled, finally vanishing slowly in an unknown corner, in solitude and loneliness.

Facing that splendid, noble, yet scar‑covered bitter neem tree by the small stream in my hometown, I often recall these lines from Zuo Si's 'Yongshi' of the Jin dynasty:

"Gloomy pines in the valley's depths, scattered sprouts on the mountains."

"With their mere inch‑by‑inch stature, they shade hundred‑foot branches…"

The green pine at the valley's bottom, though its trunk is straight, its leaves lush and verdant, yet it grows in the valley's bottom, forever deprived of human admiration; whereas the grass on the mountain peak, even if it grows as tall and upright as the pine, can earn widespread praise and appreciation. This is simple: the location differs—one in the valley, one on the peak. If the hometown bitter neem were not growing among the locust thickets by that small stream but instead in a city park, its purple‑pink, beautiful and noble blossoms would surely draw constant admirers, perhaps even becoming a celebrated tree.

Alas, I truly feel regret and injustice for that hometown bitter neem tree!

38

If God becomes angry

Liu Guozong

The sun, moon, and stars in heaven move orderly through space without the slightest error. The Ruler of this vast universe—God—is how great! He not only manages heavenly affairs—the sun, the moon, the stars, the wind, the rain—but also governs all phenomena in the human world.

Human affairs are even more complex than heavenly ones. Since the creation of heaven and earth to now, who knows how many people complain that heaven and earth are unfair, giving all the good and beautiful things to others while they themselves receive only the bad and ugly. This makes God's job exceedingly difficult. Someone may use 'managing ten thousand affairs daily' to describe how busy a person is, but compared with God, how trivial is that? God must not only oversee earthly matters but also celestial ones. For humanity, we should not distract God; let Him focus solely on heavenly affairs so that humanity may live well—that would be humanity's greatest blessing.

Imagine one day God becomes angry, stamps His foot, causing an earthquake somewhere and a tsunami—what would people gain, what would they lose? You get more, I get less; I become beautiful, you become ugly; you obtain a high office, I a low one; you grow wealthy while I remain penniless—wouldn't it all end in smoke and ashes?

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Dawei's admonition to posterity

Liu Guozong

Human greed knows no bounds. Dawei once lamented: 'I undertook great works for myself—built houses, planted vineyards (equivalent to today's luxury villas); constructed parks and gardens (equivalent to nowadays' whatever parks), therein planting all kinds of fruit trees; dug ponds to irrigate saplings. I also bought servants (equivalent to today's wealthy households' staff), had slaves born in my household, and possessed many flocks of sheep and goats, surpassing what all the people of Jerusalem owned together. I further accumulated silver and gold and royal treasures (Dawei was a king, and a wise, talented, capable one; even someone like him hoarded wealth, let alone others), and the treasures of every province (grudgingly wishing to seize all the world's wealth for oneself—this is human nature, especially in today's age of rampant material desire, where no one dislikes great wealth).' He also obtained singing men and women and objects beloved by the world, and many concubines (although there are no concubines nowadays, many wealthy people can 'keep a second wife').

At that time Dawei was king of Jerusalem, and in his view, just as our ancient Daoist founder Laozi said: 'Heaven and earth are not benevolent, treating all things as straw dogs; the sage is not benevolent, treating the common people as straw dogs.' The world's common folk, in the eyes of the powerful, are merely straw‑tied dogs, to be tossed about, **, trampled at will—'Whatever I desire in my heart, I have not withheld from him; whatever I take pleasure in, I have not forbidden myself from enjoying.' After Dawei had exhausted worldly riches and honor, he lamented: 'In the future, what can those who come after me do? Nothing but repeat what I have already done.'

The meaning of Dawei's words is that no later person can surpass his enjoyment; at most they would not be like me—having power, wealth, villas, gardens, beautiful wives and concubines? Finally, Dawei summed up his life concisely: all is emptiness, chasing wind; for 'all return to one place, all come from dust and return to dust.' 'No one has the power to control life, to retain it, nor does anyone have the power to determine the time of death.'

Therefore Dawei advises posterity (that is, us later generations): 'So when you remove anxiety from your heart and ** eliminate evil,' 'Whatever task falls to your hands, you must do it with all your might, for in the netherworld you must inevitably go, there is no work, no planning, no knowledge, and no wisdom.'

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In the thick mist, gazing out the window

Liu Guozong

Thick mist spreads, the whole world is shrouded; at night the stars are invisible, by day the sun's glare makes pedestrians lose their bearings. People wander in this murky, evil world, turning about, making you dizzy and disoriented. Some are like flies seeking rot and odor; some are like bees ** making honey. Some live for themselves, some for others; some are noble, some depraved; the joy of the noble, the pain of the depraved—

Through the misty veil, 'you might gaze from your chamber toward the window and see a nun walking on the right side of the road and a prostitute on the left, and you would say, "How noble this is! How depraved that is!" But if you close your eyes and listen a moment, you would hear a voice as soft as a whisper from space saying: "This one pleads with me in prayer, that one begs me in pain; in their souls, both belong to an umbrella of my soul.'

I have never understood why, under God's same 'umbrella'—the same blue sky, the same sunlight—some are noble, some depraved; some joyful, some in pain.

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Not for any reason, merely to live?

Liu Guozong

The world needs bees as well as flies. Each has its reason for existence; bees cannot blame flies, nor flies blame bees. Of course this world is not only bees and flies; there are vast numbers of animals surviving and living here. Humans are merely one species. Yet the human kind is distinct: humans act with purpose, they are animals that live with hope. But whether human or other creature, none can see their own tomorrow.

What will tomorrow be like? How will the world change tomorrow, and how will my own tomorrow change? No one can say. Precisely because it is uncertain, this arouses people's interest in living. Everyone living in this world thinks, 'My tomorrow will be better than today.' My tomorrow being better than today is the hope and reason for people to live. Besides, another reason to live is 'hope to see what today cannot show, to encounter people and things different from today.' Human curiosity also motivates people to live. For example, someone suffering from an incurable illness clearly knows his tomorrow will be worse than today, yet he still wishes to live. This is a kind of curiosity; his reason for living is to see what tomorrow will be like. Seeing that tomorrow's suffering exceeds today's, he still wants to live in order to witness what tomorrow will be like. This curiosity is a trait of all humanity, and indeed unique to humanity.

The ancients said: 'Renew daily, renew again, day by day anew.' As a person, each day one must have a new appearance in this world. If forever one is an old face, old talk, endlessly repeating—even retreading others' paths, saying what others have said, doing what others have done—even a bit of novelty would still be contributed to the world. Living without cold or heat, how is such a life different from that of other animals? Other animals also live this way: merely to live, to live for nothing but living. As long as one lives, that suffices. Life is simply living; how does such a life differ from that of other creatures?

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42

I advise you to still pursue goodness and beauty

Liu Guozong

He (referring to God) makes the sun shine on good people and also on bad people; He sends Rain on the righteous and also on the unrighteous. God said, this sunlight belongs to everyone, not belonging to any one person or any kind of person. Whether you are poor or rich; noble or humble; a great Brightness star or an ugly duckling. When the sun comes out, everyone will enjoy the light Brightness and warmth; when Rain falls, all dry land will receive moisture. In this world, no one dares to think they can monopolize the sunlight under the light Brightness and warmth.

The Bible records: No matter how great a person's lifespan, it cannot exceed a thousand years: the progenitor of humanity, Yadang, lived a total of nine hundred thirty years (Xiawa, the Bible does not record her age, because the first sinner was female, not male; women are soft-hearted and cannot withstand temptation, so under the serpent's temptation Xiawa easily fell for the trick and was dragged by the devil into the abyss of sin). Among Yadang's descendants, those who lived to nine hundred years are: Seth lived to nine hundred twelve years, Enosh lived nine hundred ten years, Jared lived nine hundred sixty-two years (the greatest), the one who built the ark,? Ya, lived nine hundred fifty years, and that great Moses who led the Israelites out of Egypt lived one hundred twenty years. This is the human lifespan in Western mythology; in Chinese folk legend, the longest-lived is Pengzu of the Warring States period: eight hundred eighty years. All Chinese emperors wanted to live ten thousand years, myriad myriad years! And they wanted immortality (including modern greats**), but not a single emperor's age exceeded one hundred years. On the contrary, many emperors enjoyed all the wealth and honor of the human world, but their lifespans were not longer than those of ordinary commoners. This sunshine of yours still shines unchanged through the ages, shining on you, on him, also on me, having shone on the ancients, again on the present people, and will shine on future people. Ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, no matter how great your abilities, you cannot monopolize the sunshine for yourself.

Because "no one has the right to control life, to retain life, and also no one has the right to control the time of death," therefore I advise you, while you are still alive, to do good and be beautiful, enjoy the fruits of your labor under the sunshine that belong to you; "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave you are going to, there is no work, no planning, no knowledge, and no wisdom."