Can you respond to a koan with a koan?

[Owledge]

I just had this thought, and it's probably unrefined as hell, but it will yield responses accordingly: Can you present a response to a koan that is in the spirit of a koan (not necessarily Zen-specific if that's not a requirement), in effect a koan itself? An equal retoure to the person speaking the koan and based on the original koan, making them examine their own act of presenting the koan like it was a koan? So that the reaction added to the original koan becomes a new koan?

This is probably a multi-faceted idea if you explore it thoroughly ... but isn't that part of what koans are about?

 

Not claiming to have a full grasp of the meaning of koans, but I just wanted to share one I read and one answer that spontaneously came to my mind, and I'm curious about your thoughts.

 

A Cup of Tea

 

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"

"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

 

Response: "I don't know, but I'm sure there is a way."

 

 

 

P.S.: What I like about this koan is the relevance of the professor's decision to state the obvious. My response is somewhat inspired by the fact that the master asked a question instead of stating a conviction. It's almost like he presented that opening.

Edited February 24, 2014 by Owledge

[Nungali]

A Cup of Tea

 

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"

"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

 

Response:

 

My answer :

 

But Nan-in ... I sat down with an empty cup - it was you that overfilled it... why did you not pour me a little first and then allow me to drink that and savour it, then pour me some more. Do you have to empty everything all at once into my cup when you know it wont hold the contents of the pot? A good teacher must be able to teach what his student can learn, in progressive steps while allowing him time to digest it.

[Owledge]

My answer :

 

But Nan-in ... I sat down with an empty cup - it was you that overfilled it... why did you not pour me a little first and then allow me to drink that and savour it, then pour me some more. Do you have to empty everything all at once into my cup when you know it wont hold the contents of the pot? A good teacher must be able to teach what his student can learn, in progressive steps while allowing him time to digest it.

Haha, that's a very good response. He indeed quite overwhelmed the student there.

[thelerner]

I don't know, I think there's been more then one zen student who received a whack or lost a finger being a little too clever.

The Koan after all is not about an intellectual answer.

[mewtwo]

Owledge What would princess celestia do?

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bRz2U61pJE

[Owledge]

I don't know, I think there's been more then one zen student who received a whack or lost a finger being a little too clever.

The Koan after all is not about an intellectual answer.

Yes, it's about pondering, meditating, reflecting, gaining insight. But smarts and skillfulness are involved in the creation of a koan.

In short: Can a zen teacher be a little too clever?

[Owledge]

Owledge What would princess celestia do?

Get a straw and keep the cup from spilling?

[Nungali]

I don't know, I think there's been more then one zen student who received a whack or lost a finger being a little too clever.

The Koan after all is not about an intellectual answer.

 

Then why did nan-in say this; " "Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

 

Didn't he accompany his actions with an intellectual answer to his own actions?

 

Lets go again :

 

" Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring."

 

The professor drank the cup of tea, took a handkerchief out of his pocket, mopped up the tea and put it back in his pocket and said thankyou.

 

And , no, I dont accept finger amputations and have been known to hit back.

[Nungali]

Yes, it's about pondering, meditating, reflecting, gaining insight. But smarts and skillfulness are involved in the creation of a koan.

In short: Can a zen teacher be a little too clever?

 

That all depends on one's take on Zen and if one accepts another's take on it ( 'Master' or not). I prefer to look at it in light of explanations given by Thomas Cleary in his addendums to his translation to 'The Japanese Art of War' ... and in light of 'ura' and 'omote' ... concepts, which if not understood, one might get no where in studying virtually anything Japanese ... including Japanese Martial Arts.

[Owledge]

Then why did nan-in say this; " "Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

 

Didn't he accompany his actions with an intellectual answer to his own actions?

 

Lets go again :

 

" Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring."

 

The professor drank the cup of tea, took a handkerchief out of his pocket, mopped up the tea and put it back in his pocket and said thankyou.

 

And , no, I dont accept finger amputations and have been known to hit back.

Now I can't get the picture of Pinkie Pie out of my head. Sitting there, smiling. Tea cup fills. Smiling. Cup overflows. Smiling.

I keep getting the impression that she's a daoist master in disguise, enjoying to play her role and observing, participating in and creating mundane joy and drama.

There's so much more to her than just being a party animal.

Edited February 24, 2014 by Owledge

[Owledge]

That all depends on one's take on Zen and if one accepts another's take on it ( 'Master' or not). I prefer to look at it in light of explanations given by Thomas Cleary in his addendums to his translation to 'The Japanese Art of War' ... and in light of 'ura' and 'omote' ... concepts, which if not understood, one might get no where in studying virtually anything Japanese ... including Japanese Martial Arts.

Ah! Like umami! If you don't study that, you won't understand Japanese cuisine.

[Nungali]

I see it more as a way of answering the man with the sword in a way that might not get one's head cut off.

 

(Or finger.)

 

"The man with the gun will only hear what avoids him using it."

 

But then again ... what would I know ... I am a gaijin barbarian

 

In later times I might be considered a gaikoku no kata ( as many were post WWII ) or in other words ; "My sword is bigger! " But nowadays its probably closer to 'Let's trade.'

Edited February 24, 2014 by Nungali

[Stosh]

Sir Edmund had been invited to the party , He picked up a spoonful of sugar which had been intended for him , and plops it into the cup ! Sir edmund picks up the tea and swallows it down. Mmmmm he says. Your delicious tea is now sweeter , I liked it , and now it is mine. Ummmm but the mess on the table however , is all yours.

Edited February 25, 2014 by Stosh

[Unseen_Abilities]

If responding to a Koan with a Koan, is each Koan still a Koan?

 

If conversing Koan to Koan, is it still a conversation?

[Stosh]

Well , central to a koan is a paradox , ( the example of the thread is more parable or exemplum, not a koan, because there is seemingly no paradox contained in it.) Since a paradox is unresolvable (presumably) , it is not a thing to be 'countered' with another koan , but this potentially might generate a third koan... and then your head would explode.

Edited February 25, 2014 by Stosh

[Owledge]

Well , central to a koan is a paradox , ( the example of the thread is more parable or exemplum, not a koan, because there is seemingly no paradox contained in it.) Since a paradox is unresolvable (presumably) , it is not a thing to be 'countered' with another koan , but this potentially might generate a third koan... and then your head would explode.

This is why I mentioned I'm not sure about the nature of a koan. Some sources say that its purpose is to teach the philosophy of zen without preaching, but by making the students think about it for themselves, so based on that I'd assume that a koan can work without an outright paradox. Seems a difficult concept.

Maybe its nature made people confused about its own nature.

[Stosh]

This is why I mentioned I'm not sure about the nature of a koan. Some sources say that its purpose is to teach the philosophy of zen without preaching, but by making the students think about it for themselves, so based on that I'd assume that a koan can work without an outright paradox. Seems a difficult concept.

Maybe its nature made people confused about its own nature.

Nice insight, I suspect the same ( that it can generate its own confusion)

If I preach , and occasionally do , I know defenses are up.But , If one sees things for themselves ,

then they are in accord with the reasoning, ( it is their own isnt it?).

Im thinking the point of the Koan is not to logically force a conclusion by the audience ,

though it is a presentation of a situation which may generate an understanding

(which resolves into an acceptance of how things really are).

 

The tree falling in the forest koan , need be considered from the situation of folks living back when the thing was originally considered. They didnt have the physics background we have today , so they were looking at the nature of sounds and experience in an unresolvable situation , and it makes a big difference in the power of the koan to do its thing.

 

The attitude of accepting just how things are, is probably rarer today. And if you listen to arguments folks make , its often clear that the argument they are making is so weak that they themselves wouldnt bank on it unless it was all they had. So why would one make a weak argument ? because they are happier at the prospect of maintaining the opinion they already have than concede that what they just said is bs.

A person recently said , another man might have met a third man , who lived a bit later, ,,

based on the idea that the earlier person was pleasant and wise , 'so they probably lived a long time', and therefore the two likely knew each other. If the speaker had stopped at the reasonable supposition ,, 'they may well have met' , then thats a solid point. To go the step farther, is to introduce wish based support ,,, if you asked me, Id say it undermines the credibility on what may have been a sound perspective.

[Taomeow]

I've been in this situation as a little girl once, so I know the solution. We were visiting our relatives in St.Petersburg (then Leningrad), my grandmother's sister and her family. They served tea, and the lady of the house went about putting sugar in my cup and I saw she wouldn't stop -- three, four, five, six, seven spoonfuls, and she kept going. "What are you doing?" I asked her incredulously. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not done yet," she said sweetly, and kept adding more. "I can't drink it like that," I said, thinking she'd lost her mind. "You can always add more," was the response.

[Owledge]

I've been in this situation as a little girl once, so I know the solution. We were visiting our relatives in St.Petersburg (then Leningrad), my grandmother's sister and her family. They served tea, and the lady of the house went about putting sugar in my cup and I saw she wouldn't stop -- three, four, five, six, seven spoonfuls, and she kept going. "What are you doing?" I asked her incredulously. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not done yet," she said sweetly, and kept adding more. "I can't drink it like that," I said, thinking she'd lost her mind. "You can always add more," was the response.

This makes one think, yes. I'd assume she wanted to teach you how to express what you mean properly, but then she would have given you a straight answer to your inquiry about what she is doing. Or maybe still ... Maybe she faked a misunderstanding, for the same reason, just a different apporach. Did she just want you to say "Stop!"?

[Taomeow]

This makes one think, yes. I'd assume she wanted to teach you how to express what you mean properly, but then she would have given you a straight answer to your inquiry about what she is doing. Or maybe still ... Maybe she faked a misunderstanding, for the same reason, just a different apporach. Did she just want you to say "Stop!"?

Well, I think she gave me a true koan, multidimensional. You reminded me of that situation and just now I realized that I now understand some more about what she did, and since I had a long time to ponder it (I was 9 or 10 when it happened), I can attest to the fact that one function of the koan is to change the recipient's physiology, not just mentality. I've never had a relationship with sugar in my life! I put a spoonful of sugar in my morning coffee, and that's the end of it. Soft drinks disgust me, and as for chocolate, I make my own when I have the time and inclination, all commercial varieties are too sweet for me. One sip of that tea (I did take a sip, out of politeness and curiosity) taught my body something it never forgot.

 

Another dimension: people's search for sweetness, for pleasure, for possession, for fulfillment, for "more." You can repair a lack by adding more... how do you repair an excess by adding more? "You can always add more," she said -- yes, most people live like that. When life doesn't seem delicious enough, they add more of something. And it makes things worse. It's not delicious enough because it has too much jammed into it, not because it has not enough. But mostly people look to throw in another spoonful of sugar trying to make it more enjoyable. Yet all the spoonfuls that went in there before are still there. The cup must indeed be emptied if one wants to get zen -- but what do you do with a cup that has too much zen added?.. How do you rid a life of excess dissolved into it? Can't fix that taste by dissolving more into it -- of anything, be it zen, sugar, or "experiences."

 

Another dimension: greed and generosity are two sides of the same coin. Either one is going for "too much" -- in the first case, for self, in the second, for others. People need as much as they need. Less is not optimal and not good, more is not optimal and not good.

 

Another... What's the source of greed? A lack, a poverty, on some level or on all levels. In the case of my relatives, they'd lived through the siege of Leningrad, which lasted for 872 days and was one of the longest and by far the deadliest in all of human history. The ironic part being that the head of the family was a superintendent for the Army, in charge of distributing tons of food, with direct access to any and all of it -- but unlike some people who used an opportunity like this for marauding and stealing, he was scrupulously honest and never took even a spoonful of sugar that didn't belong to him, nothing, he and his whole family were starving like all other civilians on the tiny rations of near-inedible bread issued in amounts that for millions of people were not enough to survive on. This is lifelong imprinting -- for decades afterwards, people who did survive it would hide bread under their mattresses, and, yes, add 20 spoonfuls of sugar to their tea. The feeling of being deprived is dissolved in your life's "cup" forever once you've indeed been deprived -- 20 spoonfuls of sugar added later can't fix that.

 

So... I think it was a perfect koan, inexhaustible in its lessons.

Edited February 25, 2014 by Taomeow

[Owledge]

Another dimension: greed and generosity are two sides of the same coin. Either one is going for "too much" -- in the first case, for self, in the second, for others. People need as much as they need. Less is not optimal and not good, more is not optimal and not good.

 

Generous people are an important cure for (moderately) greedy people. If generosity can be afforded, it is good. Diversity in strengths and weaknesses enable us to develop empathy and realize our interdependency.

It's all good as long as people don't overextend themselves. But still... intention is more important than conserving your energy, because even if you go way out of your way to help someone, as long as you enjoy doing it, it is a powerful force.

 

 

This is lifelong imprinting -- for decades afterwards, people who did survive it would hide bread under their mattresses, and, yes, add 20 spoonfuls of sugar to their tea. The feeling of being deprived is dissolved in your life's "cup" forever once you've indeed been deprived -- 20 spoonfuls of sugar added later can't fix that.

 

An example of this would be something I witnessed in Hawaii: The people of Japanese descent there tend to do hamster purchases, so it often happens that a certain product is not available because someone bought up every piece.

 

This depends on the person though. Many inconvenience themselves long-term by being too convenient and not attempting to get rid of their fears. This is of course influenced by many factors in their life. But in some cases, going to the other extreme in an attempt to restore balance can yield certain unpleasant consequences that might help them eventually realize that they're acting irrationally. This just doesn't happen often because of modern society's strong capitalism-driven emphasis on catering to people's vices and building addiction mechanisms and comfort zones. Basically, those who shape this kind of society with their accumulated influence do it out of fear, and the result is designed to perpetuate those fears.

 

There's a related dynamic to this though that makes it more complex: Spiritual practices usually advise you to work on eliminating your weaknesses. But sometimes it would be wiser to leave those weaknesses be and instead fully focus on your strengths. This can make the weaknesses less relevant and you can end up leading a fulfilled life. Because if you keep looking, you can discover and infinite amount of things you cannot do well and waste a lot of time trying to become average/normal in everything.

Usually self-exploration will make one see to what degree a weakness actually needs attention, but people are being bombarded by so many foreign concepts and ideas that they can lose track of that insight. This can even make a strength look like a weakness and vice versa.