Outside the door, talking about Zen

Author: Ge Zhaoguang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-09-01
Features: This small book on Zen collects several short and long essays, pieced together from three old works written over a decade ago. The ten or so articles included in this booklet are the author's "random notes" and "reflections" while reading Zen classics. The thoughts of Zen cannot be regulated by "reason"; it is lively and also strange, lacking a clear "understandability," yet filled with implicit, hazy, and inconceivable "ambiguity" and "polysemy." Therefore, when reading it, one can only gain a sudden sense of enlightenment through the surface of language in the heart, but it is difficult to clearly express this feeling in specific terms. As a result, what the author has written here are often fragmented feelings, or even self-contradictory thoughts. Zen was a topic of special interest to me twenty years ago. On one hand, it was an academic research, but on the other hand, it was related to personal interest. Thus, in addition to writing serious treatises, I also wrote some essays inspired by my fantasies and insights, most of which are collected in this book Zen Talks from the Outside. Although these are mostly inspired writings, they still reflect the rational experiences of that time.
—Ge Zhaoguang
Xianfeng Temple Reflections
During a summer trip to Mount Emei, I encountered rain midway and stayed overnight at Jiulaodong Xianfeng Temple. Xianfeng Temple is located halfway up the mountain. In the misty rain, looking up, the dense forest areas in the mountains were dark green, while the sparse areas were bright green, scattered and indistinguishable—was it light rain or thick fog? It seemed to sever layer after layer of green, floating slowly with milky-white rain mist, reminding me of Ouyang Xiu's line, "The mountain's hue is both present and absent." In front of the temple, there was an uneven open space connecting the stone paths leading up and down the mountain. The hurried tourists passing through the open space mostly wore transparent plastic raincoats sold on the mountain, some wore pink rain cloths, or held colorful umbrellas, jumping with small bright spots of light amidst the vast green. Although many people came and went, the sounds were very faint in this empty valley and misty rain, as if they had all been dissolved by the hazy mountain scenery. Only occasionally would a sharp laugh rise, only to sink again shortly. Under the eaves of the temple, the tourists sheltering from the rain twisted their wet clothes, whispering to each other, hesitating between leaving and staying, amidst the smoke drifting from the temple hall. Since I had ample time, I decided to stay. After setting down my luggage and changing into dry clothes, feeling light and relaxed, I strolled out to chat with the monk on duty in the hall. During our chat, someone came to bow and kneel, and the monk quickly rang the bell. It seemed that there weren't many truly devout believers—most were far more interested in the mountain scenery than in revering the Buddha, so...