Geof Nanto

Us humans are the top predators on this planet so it makes sense that we'd like every living thing be be happy with this arrangement. Buddhists seek to liberate themselves from delusion, yet seem content to weave their own web of delusion. It is estimated we kill around 56 billion farm animals annually and 90 billion marine animals.

Become as little children....

These Daoist discussions are always learning experiences for me. I like to read what everyone has to say and research the topic too. As the OP is asking about Laozi and Zhuangzi I think an overview from classical Daoism is helpful as a reference for our personal cultivation experiences. For me, such an overview helps clarify the various perspectives each of us is presenting. What follows is extracted from Komjathy’s The Daoist Tradition….. The terms xing (innate nature) and ming (life-destiny, fate) were used synonymously in classical Daoism. However they later came to take on more nuanced and technical connotations, especially in the inner alchemy lineages. Here xing is associated with the heart-mind, spirit as well as divine capacities, while ming is associated with the kidneys, vital essence as well as foundational vitality and corporeality. For members of the classical inner cultivation lineages, xing and ming designate the ground of one's being, the Dao manifesting in/as/through one's own embodied existence. On some level, they are "fate" in the sense of one's innate and personal capacities, and what one must do in order to have meaning, purpose, and fulfillment. On another level, they must be actualized or expressed as embodied being in the world. They are both given and actualized. RETURNING TO THE SOURCE Apply emptiness completely; Guard stillness steadfastly. The ten thousand beings arise together; I simply observe their return. All beings flourish and multiply; Each again returns to the Source. Returning to the Source is called stillness; This means returning to life-destiny. Returning to life-destiny is called constancy; Knowing constancy is called illumination. (Daode jing, Chapter 16) The Dao was pulled apart for the sake of goodness; virtue was imperilled for the sake of conduct. After this, innate nature was abandoned and minds were set free to roam, heart-mind joining with heart-mind in understanding; there was knowledge, but it could not bring stability to the world. After this, "culture" was added on, and "breadth" was piled on top. "Culture" destroyed the substantial, "breadth" drowned the heart-mind, and after this the people began to be confused and disordered. They had no way to revert to the true form of their innate nature or to return once more to the Beginning. (Zhuangzi, Chapter 16) Here is a representative account of the loss of cosmic integration, of separation from the Dao. At root, one becomes disoriented through societal conditioning, familial expectations and obligations, and personal habituation. Such claims of course beg the question of how human beings, as manifestations of the Dao, originally lost their cosmic integration. From a Daoist perspective, the account of human disorientation is existential and psychological, not cosmogonic or theological. That is, it is about the human experience of being in the world, and the consequences of certain human activities. There is thus the following traditional Daoist statement: "Humans may be distant from the Dao, but the Dao is never distant from humans." That is, one's "separation from the Dao" is only apparent. Ultimately, separation is impossible. But what about the question of benefit and harm, of morality and immorality? There are two primary Daoist responses. First, from a cosmological and theological perspective, there is no such thing. Terms such as "morality" are human constructs, ways of creating meaning and order in an impersonal universe [that is, they are rules]. Using a famous phrase from Chapter 5 of the Daode jing, everything in the phenomenal world is a "straw dog" (chugou), with straw dogs being effigies used in ancient Chinese ritual. On some level, we are simply sacrificial offerings in the unending decomposition and recomposition ritual of the universe. We simply participate in the unending transformative process of the Dao. Second, in the case of human beings, innate nature is innately good. To express this nature is to act with virtue. But this is not socially constructed morality, as in the case of Confucianism. Rather, it is the way in which one's innate nature naturally manifests, as a beneficial presence and influence. Such a condition has moral qualities from a conventional perspective but it is simply one's own innate nature, the Dao becoming present in human relationship and interaction When virtue does not flourish, this is due not to the "presence of evil" in the world, but rather to widespread psychological and spiritual confusion. On the personal level, the primary sources of such confusion include sensory engagement with the world through the "passages" and "doorways" mentioned in the Daode jing passage above, and emotionality, especially negative, harmful, and inappropriate emotional reactions. This leads to a state of disorientation that is manifest in distinctions, categories, biases, and opinions emanating from one's own limited, egoistic viewpoint. This Daoist description of disintegration is also a map for reintegration. The most important principle here is "returning to the Source" (guigen), a term that means attunement with the Dao. The tradition proposes various ways to do this, but taking classical Daoism to its logical conclusion, it simply involves abiding in the ground of one's being. One accepts what is, and allows each being to unfold according to its own innate nature. With respect to religious discipline one trains oneself to have a positive and accepting view of oneself and others. Generally speaking, the ideal here is not becoming emotionless. Rather, it is to attain a state of "true joy," a calm contentment and buoyancy undisturbed by gain and loss, by the trials and tribulations of existence, or by fulfillment or frustration of mundane desires. It requires recognition of change as the one universal constant. "The sage penetrates bafflement and complication, rounding all into a single body, yet he does not know why—it is his innate nature. He returns to fate and acts accordingly, using the cosmos (tianxia) as his teacher" (Zhuangzi, Chapter 25) [That is, he or she naturally falls in line with the laws (rules?) of the cosmos. Also of interest is how classical Daoism continually disparages the use of knowledge. However, we need knowledge to reach the state of non-knowledge.]

Storm clouds over Moreton Bay, Brisbane Australia a few days ago.

Bacteria total population 4 quadrillion quadrillion; total biomass 1,000,000 million tons Ants total population 10 billion billion; total biomass 3,000 million tons Humans total population 7 billion; total biomass 350 million tons Domestic chickens total population 18.6 billion; total biomass 40 million tons http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2011/11/03/141946751/along-with-humans-who-else-is-in-the-7-billion-club (BTW I care about ants. But agreed, us humans are definitely anthropocentric in outlook. )

Wandering through the forest that grows all around where I live is vital for my sense of wellbeing. And the forest regeneration projects I've undertaken here over many years have taught me plenty about the complex processes of natural healing and hence the Dao. The feel of undisturbed old-growth forest is rich and full of invisible presences; nature spirits abound. Of course, scientific language cannot cope with such ineffable subtleties, but I imagine that's what captivates Peter Wohlleben. There's great mystery in wilderness of which this article presents a welcome taste. Thanks for the reference. "Reading up on the behavior of trees — a topic he learned little about in forestry school — he found that, in nature, trees operate less like individuals and more as communal beings. Working together in networks and sharing resources, they increase their resistance. By artificially spacing out trees, the plantation forests that make up most of Germany’s woods ensure that trees get more sunlight and grow faster. But, naturalists say, creating too much space between trees can disconnect them from their networks, stymieing some of their inborn resilience mechanisms."

An interesting post from Nungali (http://thedaobums.com/topic/40193-the-magician-card/?p=666384)...... "So as well as the earth red dragon sitting 'up top' ..... is it too far a stretch to see a similarity in the 'snakey' 'border' barrier between black and white." The Dragon Motif The dragon is one of China's richest symbols - tension at the heart of life, variation through alternation, inexhaustible transformation and animating power - all are aspects embodied by the dragon as it surges forward. The dragon is at once yin within yang and yang within yin. Its body is constantly transformed but never exhausted: a finer embodiment of alternation as the driving force of continuity could not be imagined. The body of the dragon concentrates energy in its sinuous curves, and coils and uncoils to move along more quickly. It is a symbol of all the potential with which form can be charged, a potential that never ceases to be actualized. The dragon now lurks in watery depths, now streaks aloft to the highest heavens, and its very gait is a continuous undulation. It presents an image of energy constantly recharged through oscillation from one pole to the other. The dragon is a constantly evolving creature with no fixed form; it can never be immobilized or penned in, never grasped. It symbolises a dynamism never visible in concrete form and thus unfathomable. Finally, merging with the clouds and the mists, the dragon’s impetus makes the surrounding world vibrate: it is the very image of an energy that diffuses itself through space, intensifying its environment and enriching itself by that aura. Oscillation through alternation of yin and yang, symbolized by the dragon, is the great regulatory principle of this dynamism. It is thus a constant motif of Chinese thought. (Adapted from François Jullien, The Propensity of Things.) [The well-known Tiger yin, Dragon yang presents symbolism that is also well worth exploring, especially Tiger yin.]

From Leonard Cohen....... "Roshi said something nice to me one time. He said that the older you get, the lonelier you become, and the deeper the love you need. Which means that this hero that you're trying to maintain as the central figure in the drama of your life—this hero is not enjoying the life of a hero. You're exerting a tremendous maintenance to keep this heroic stance available to you, and the hero is suffering defeat after defeat. And they're not heroic defeats; they're ignoble defeats. Finally, one day you say, 'Let him die—I can't invest any more in this heroic position'.”

This is an important topic. To my observation yin-yang theory is poorly understood and the terms are regularly misused as if they're static qualities and can exist separately. As an introduction to what we're discussing, here is an overview of yin-yang theory from Louis Komjathy's The Daoist Tradition that clarifies the distinction made between the yin-yang theory of traditional Chinese cosmology and the different meaning of yin and yang in internal alchemy lineages….. The foundational Daoist cosmology parallels that of pre-modern Chinese society and culture, and it centers on yin-yang and the Five Phases. This cosmology is not Daoist per se. It is best understood as "traditional Chinese cosmology" or part of the dominant "traditional Chinese worldview," as it was the primary cosmological viewpoint in traditional China. It was, in turn, employed in various indigenous systems, such as those of Confucianism, Daoism, and Chinese medicine. Historically speaking, this correlative cosmology, also referred to as the system of correspondences, was systematized by Zou Yan (ca. 305-240 BCE) and within the so-called Yinyang jia (Family of Yin-yang). The latter "school" is often referred to as the "Cosmologists" or "Naturalists" in Western language publications, and it was part of the intellectual and cultural diversity of the Warring States period (480-222 BCE) and Early Han dynasty (206 BCE-9 CE). While such a cosmology is not Daoist per se, it is often misidentified as such because Daoism is one of the few places were the view remains prominent in the contemporary world. This cosmology is based on the principles and forces of yin-yang, which we encountered in the classical Daoist cosmogonic accounts. Etymologically speaking, yin a depicts a hill (fu) covered by shadows (yin), while yang depicts a hill (fu) covered by sunlight (yang). At the root level, yin and yang are ways of speaking about the same place at different times or moments of the day. Yin and yang are not "polar opposites" or antagonistic substances; they are, in fact, complementary principles, aspects, or forces. As the characters suggest, yin and yang are used to represent different dimensions of the same phenomenon or situation. By extension, there are various associations: Yin/female/earth/moon/dark/death/cold/moist/heavy/turbidity/descent/rest/inward yang/male/heavens/sun/light/life/hot/dry/light/clarity/ascent/activity/outward At times, "yin" is also used to designate "negative" or harmful aspects of life more generally (immorality, ugliness, disease, etc.), while "yang" becomes related to "positive" or beneficial aspects of life (morality, beauty, health, etc.). What must be emphasized is that these are relative associations, not absolute characteristics. They do not parallel conventional views of so-called "good" and "evil" as distinct ontological categories. Just because women are considered "yin" in one respect or in one context, it does not follow that they are also "immoral" or "turbid." There are also varying degrees of yin and yang in every phenomenon, in each moment or experience, and in every being. So, certain men may be more yin than certain women, and vice versa. People in one context may be more yang (e.g. talkative or hot), while in another that same person may be quite yin (e.g. quiet or cold). Because the universe is understood as a transformative process (zaohua), this also means that any negative or harmful pattern or manifestation may be transformed into a positive or beneficial pattern or manifestation. In the context of a classical Chinese worldview in general and Daoism in particular, life is seen as depending on the mutually beneficial interaction of yin and yang. Even when Daoists speak of entities like "demons" (mo) or "ghosts" (gui), they generally understand them to be a momentary, unresolved energetic pattern capable of transformation into a more beneficial pattern. Generally speaking, such beings are not irrevocably lost or distorted. A skilled Daoist priest may assist their transformation. Here we should also note that yin and yang take on specific and alternative meanings in certain contexts. For example, in many internal alchemy lineages, yin appears to be defined negatively, while yang appears to be defined positively. A distinction must be made between yin-yang as cosmological principles, and yin-yang as alchemical map, specifically as a map of alchemical transformation. That is, there are cosmological and alchemical interpretations and applications of yin-yang, with the associations varying depending on system and context. The cosmological dimension cannot be changed—it is the underlying structure of cosmos. However, on an existential and alchemical level, yin may designate mortality, defilements, delusion, and so forth; Yang may designate immortality, purity, realization, and so forth. Internal alchemists thus frequently speak of transforming yin into yang, of becoming a yang-spirit, a pure yang being. This does not mean that one transcends the foundational cosmological harmony ofyin and yang. In fact, classical Daoism and the foundational Daoist worldview urge one to "embrace the feminine", understood as correlative with "yin qualalities" (flexibility, passivity, receptivity, silence, etc.). Rather, it means that the internaI alchemist works to become a perfected being in which all negative characteristics have been transformed into their positive counterparts.

I agree with the concerns being expressed here. But the alternative puts the burden on the moderators. Being a moderator here is a thankless task - and worse - as past moderators testify and the recent attacks on Michael Sternbach amply demonstrate. Personally I'm happy for the experiment of owner control to run a little longer. So far it hasn't effected me one way or another. I don't have owner permission and I don't intend on applying for it. I didn't know it applied to General Discussion and am pleased if that's been discontinued. I avoid discussions with certain people because I feel it would be useless to engage with them. And it seems these are the small minority of people causing problems. But these problems are not huge - and we need a diversity of people here. I can see a little of myself in everyone. I learn from darkness as well as light. My bottom line continues to be that Dao Bums is an excellent forum. It's the only social media that I use and I take both my participation here and the health of this site very seriously. It's a part of my personal cultivation. I greatly appreciate the effort of staff - especially Dawei - for the energy they devote for the benefit of us all. Hence, I'd like to see how this owner permission thing pans out longer term.

Is it about thinking or is it about learning the dance of de …. A Song of the Dao (curtesy of Leonard Cohen) Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of concepts Dance me to the end of thought Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of concepts Dance me to the end of thought Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long We're both of us beneath the Dao, we're both of us above Dance me to the end of concepts Dance me to the end of thought Dance me to the wu wei that’s asking to be born Dance me through the curtains that our ziran has outworn Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn Dance me to the end of concepts Dance me to the end of thought Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove Dance me to the end of concepts Dance me to the end of thought Dance me to the end of thought

What's being discussed here is something I started upon 40 years or so ago when I was about 20 and realised the life I was living was not making me happy. At the time I was managing a successful business that I’d started with a friend. So I decided to do whatever made me feel good - and that was the start of my personal journey of self-discovery. I’ve learnt much along the way; plenty of mistakes, plenty of help from various teachers. What I was experiencing is aptly illustrated by the second stage of the well-known Zen rule of three: Mountain, no mountain, mountain…... Qingyuan declared that there were three stages in his understanding of the dharma: the first stage, seeing mountain as mountain and water as water; the second stage, seeing mountain not as mountain and water not as water; and the third stage, seeing mountain still as mountain and water still as water. The second stage is one of great learning, new insights; for me much anguish and turmoil followed by new certainties. The third stage realisation is something best left open as it is only meaningful as personal experience.

@ Seeker of Wisdom This is a Buddhist discussion and consequently I'm wary of intruding. I'm not a Buddhist, though in the distant past I spent many years living in Buddhist meditation centres. I don't consider myself a Daoist either but the perspective of classical Daoism resonates with my own experience. What I'm finding now in my 61st year of life is a sense of contentment such as I've never felt before; a sense of fulfilment. I don't seek perfection or truth. I shy away from such absolute concepts. For me, I accept that I'll never be free of illusion. What I see as reality will always be a human construction. What you call awakening from illusion I'd call awaking from one level of illusion to another level of illusion. (I apologize if I'm misrepresenting your experience.) What counts as nirvana for me is the deeply felt experience of a profound sense of belonging to this great mystery we call life. It doesn't mean bliss or freedom from pain. Decay and death are an intrinsic part of the cycle of life. That sense of belonging is something I most certainly never had when I was younger. And I know from experience it's not something to be taken for granted. I lose it when I stray from what's meaningful for me; when I stray from the authentic. And what is authentic for me is something that continues to evolve. I continue to learn.

Here is a Daoist slant on what that error may be from philosopher John Gray….. Chuang-Tzu is as much a sceptic as a mystic. The sharp dichotomy between appearance and reality that is central in Buddhism is absent, and so is the attempt to transcend the illusions of everyday existence. Chuang-Tzu sees human life as a dream, but he does not seek to awaken from it. In a famous passage he writes of dreaming he was a butterfly, and not knowing on awakening whether he is a human being who has dreamt of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he is a human being. Unlike the Buddha, A.C. Graham explains, Chuang-Tzu did not seek to awaken from the dream. He dreamt of dreaming more lucidly: 'Buddhists awaken out of dreaming; ChuangTzu wakes up to dreaming.' Awakening to the truth that life is a dream need not mean turning away from it. It may mean embracing it: If 'Life is a dream' implies that no achievement is lasting, it also implies that life can be charged with the wonder of dreams, that we drift spontaneously through events that follow a logic different from that of everyday intelligence, that fears and regrets are as unreal as hopes and desires. Chuang-Tzu admits no idea of salvation. There is no self and no awakening from the dream of self: When we dream we do not know we are dreaming, and in the middle of a dream we interpret a dream within it; not until we wake do we know that we were dreaming. Only at the ultimate awakening shall we know that this is the ultimate dream. We cannot be rid of illusions. Illusion is our natural condition. Why not accept it?

I'm impressed by your ability to work this out for yourself. I hope your classes continue to go well. I learnt corrective techniques from a gifted teacher and witnessed amazing results both in myself and others. It's something that's much needed in our sedentary society. His approach combined meridian theory with yoga based asana. He'd developed comprehensive diagnostic methods and utilized asana in a way to strengthen the weaknesses pinpointed as the root cause of problems. Something to keep in mind though - and I imagine you're aware of this - we don't "fix ourselves". The most we can do is to remove the distortions we are inflicting on ourselves. It's improved alignment with nature, with the Dao and hence the freeing of the natural flow of qi that fixes us.

An amazing photo. Mountains - where Earth meets Heaven. The copulation of yin and yang. (And it’s unfortunate we have only the prosaic name “Milky Way” derived from Latin for such a spectacular sight in any night sky. Where I live away from artificial light it's an almost numinous presence. I see it as the Star River – a Chinese derived name. )

Lu Yu—China's Sage of Tea

Thanks. Yes, I have Flowing Hands' version as a pdf file. (For anyone interested, here is the link to Flowing Hands website where you can download his translation of the Daodejing.) I acquired about 10 different Daodejing translations in my early days of fascination with this remarkable text. I was seeking the original definitive meaning but soon realised no such thing existed. However, having all these versions and commentaries for the purpose of cross referencing has certainly proved of great value. There's much I like about Flowing Hands' version - to my mind his translation conveys the 'spirit' of the text - but like I say, I reference all the versions, plus info on the web. What I gained from such study is insight into the general themes of classical Daoism - and these themes resonate at the deepest level with the needs of my psyche. For me classical Daoism reveals a path to wholeness, to fulfilment. I've heard these old Daoists called masters of satisfaction. And that's what cultivation is about for me; not awakening or enlightenment like Buddhists seek.

My knowledge of Chinese is virtually non-existent and I’m no expert on the Daodejing, so discussions on its details are a learning experience for me. After posting my previous comment I researched it a little further. Richard Lynn translates the line as “Cherish the people and govern the state: can you do this without intelligence?” He gives Wang Bi’s commentary (circa 240 AD): “Intelligence is concerned with seeking success by using arts and techniques or uncovering what is hidden by plumbing the workings of fate. When vision into the mystery of things is without flaw, it is as if one had repudiated sagehood [sheng]. When one governs the state without intelligence, it is as if he had discarded wisdom1. ‘Can you do this without intelligence?’ If so the people will not hide, and the state will be governed.” 1. See chapter 19 which reads “Repudiate sagehood and discard wisdom, and the people will benefit a hundredfold.” I was a little baffled as to how a reputable translator such as Arthur Waley could come up with such a markedly different version of this line. According to Henricks, the phrase “without using knowledge” at the end of the line in chapter 10 “In understanding all within the four reaches – can you do it without using knowledge” has a known, in fact, common variant in a number of other Daodejing texts: “without taking action” (wu wei). For me, what this section is implying is simply a continuation of the pervasive Daodejing theme that if a ruler has great de then all else falls into place 'self so'. And great de has nothing to do with ideas or the intellect in general; hence the well-known Daoist saying “Empty the mind, fill the belly”.

I assume Jadespear is referencing chapter 10. If so then yes, 'knowledge' is often used. Can you love people and govern the country without knowledge? (Addiss and Lombardo) Loving all things, can you rule without cleverness? (Flowing Hands) In loving the common people and breathing life into the state, are you able to do it without recourse to wisdom? (Ames and Hall) But other translators don't even use these thinking related terms, and I like these versions better.... (Zhuanshu 篆文, with Wang Bi Version) (1) Loving (2) the realm (3) and healing (4) the people (5) can you do (6) without (7) acting (8) now? Can you love the people and rule the land, Yet remain unknown? (Arthur Waley) Can you love the people and govern the state without interfering? (Sanderson Beck)

@ Jadespear It would help to facilitate discussion if first of all you answer the question I asked: "What chapter are you referencing there and whose translation are you using?" And secondly that you refrain from opening your reply with dismissive insults. (BTW I actually agree with much of the interpretation of rationality you now give.)

What chapter are you referencing there and whose translation are you using? I suspect a more appropriate translation would use “wisdom” rather than “rationality”. Daoists traditionally do not embrace what us Westerners commonly understand as rationally, in fact they shun it. For instance, the Zhuangzi continually positions rationality as contingent on individual perspective. For Daoists, wisdom resides in understanding rational knowledge is not the way to harmonise oneself with the Dao. Rather it’s about developing one’s whole being through practice. This complete embodiment is about integration and participation. It is about being and presence. On a cosmological and theological level, it is about the mysteriousness and numinosity of the Dao manifesting through one's life. It is about becoming an embodiment of the Dao in the world. Daoist practice has included aesthetics, art (e.g. calligraphy, music, painting, and poetry), dietetics, health and longevity practice, meditation, ritual, scripture study, and so forth. The point to be made here is that whatever path Daoists follow, practice is essential. That is, although there are clearly distinctive Daoist worldviews, Daoists have tended to deemphasize belief and doctrine. The importance of practice throughout Daoist history has often been neglected by those who would construct Daoism primarily as "philosophy" or "way of life." This view is especially prominent among readers and interpreters of classical Daoist texts, which are frequently read as about disembodied "ideas" and "ways of thinking." However, if contextualized appropriately and read carefully, one finds that Daoists and Daoist communities are less interested in epistemology (ways of knowing); they tend to be more interested in ontology (ways of being) and soteriology (ways towards the Dao). That is, although worldview, practice, and experience are interrelated, Daoists have tended to place primary emphasis on practice and experience. One cannot understand the views expressed in Daoist texts without understanding the practices that inspired, are informed by and express those views. (Adapted from Louis Komjathy, The Daoist Tradition.)

Ilumairen sent me a PM with this message: “I really liked the post you made yesterday. I had looked out the window and written one about flowers. Then I deleted it as I thought about the phrase 'off topic'...” Her message reminded me of the Flower Sermon which explains why these experiences are very much on topic for those of us whose heart connects with Daoist / Zen teachings. Flower Sermon Among adherents of Zen, the origin of Zen Buddhism is ascribed to a story, known in English as the Flower Sermon, in which Śākyamuni Buddha (Siddhartha Gautama) transmits direct prajñā (wisdom) to the disciple Mahākāśyapa. In the original Sino-Japanese, the story is called nengemishō (拈華微笑, literally "pick up flower, subtle smile"). In the story, Śākyamuni gives a wordless sermon to his disciples (sangha) by holding up a white flower. No one in the audience understands the Flower Sermon except Mahākāśyapa, who smiles. Within Zen, the Flower Sermon communicates the ineffable nature of tathātā (suchness) and Mahākāśyapa's smile signifies the direct transmission of wisdom without words. Śākyamuni affirmed this by saying: I possess the true Dharma eye, the marvelous mind of Nirvana, the true form of the formless, the subtle [D]harma [G]ate that does not rest on words or letters but is a special transmission outside of the scriptures. This I entrust to Mahākāśyapa. Jung and Kerényi demonstrate a possible commonality in intent between the Flower Sermon and the Eleusinian Mysteries: One day the Buddha silently held up a flower before the assembled throng of his disciples. This was the famous "Flower Sermon." Formally speaking, much the same thing happened in Eleusis when a mown ear of grain was silently shown. Even if our interpretation of this symbol is erroneous, the fact remains that a mown ear was shown in the course of the mysteries and that this kind of "wordless sermon" was the sole form of instruction in Eleusis which we may assume with certainty. The story of the Flower Sermon appears to have been created by Chinese Chán Buddhists. The earliest known version of the tale appeared in 1036. Zen developed as a form of Buddhism that concentrated on direct experience rather than creeds, doctrines, or intellectual analysis. Zen is essentially an exploratory methodology for mapping consciousness, a meditative tradition that foregrounds direct experience of tathātā which may only be afforded by the entrance of the "gateless" Dharma Gate. (from Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia...i/Flower_Sermon)