Bodhidharma and the Emperor

When Bhodidharma, known as Daruma, brought Buddhism to China, the Emperor Wu demanded that the wandering beggar appear before him. An imperial scribe read a list of the emperor's merits, all the hospitals he founded, all the homes for the poor, and all emblazoned with the name, "Emperor Wu." Then he asked Bhodidharma what merits he had achieved. Bhodidharma said, "Don't know."

In the bindhu between your breaths, just for an instant, be held in the gentle palm of desolation. Let your next inhalation be a wing of desirelessness  gliding up your spine, ringing the starry bell of night in each vertebra, turning the cells of your body into chalices of golden fire.

Then the imperial magistrate read Bodhidharma the royal laws and statutes, after which the emperor asked him,"What law do you follow?" Bhodhidharma answered, "Don't know."

Gaze into the mirror of Seeing itself. Let radiant beams of emptiness hallow the face of the Invisible. Let your eyes be yantras that precede creation, opening a way to the darkness of love.

The exasperated emperor commanded the high priest to recite the central verses of holy scripture. Then he challenged Bodhidharma, "What are the essential precepts of YOUR religion?" Daruma replied, "Don't know."

Words and phrases congeal out of pure silence to torture your mind with worry. Let them disperse into letters and syllables of delightfully meaningless but inspired phonemic vibration, the sounds a baby makes after drinking pearls of breast milk. Let this garland of angelic burps and giggles enfold your body with a fragrant circle of protection, each unfading petal a bija, sacred name of the Unknowable.

The emperor banished Bodhidharma from the capital and prohibited him from teaching anything whatsoever to the people. So Daruma wandered to a forest cave, where he sat quietly, staring at an empty limestone wall that seeped droplets of fresh water sparkling in darkness.

Now listen down deep and undo the knot of this world. Hear to the hum where hearing arises. Let your silence re-calibrate the wobble of each atom, healing the bodies of all sentient creatures.

In the solitude of his cave, Daruma said nothing, thought nothing, dreamed nothing. Yet he was wide awake. Thus the teaching of the Dharma spread rapidly throughout the land. Thousands came to him, wishing to be initiated into his teaching. They also ministered to the sick and the poor in the natural course of their lives as Buddhists, but never did so for the purpose of accumulating merit.

Can you breathe out everything you ever thought you were against, and surrender the argument? Cherish the subtle luminous flavor of not believing. Resist no-thing. If your restless mind must mutter some words, then whisper Daruma's great liberating maha-mantra: "Don't Know."

Footnote to the Story of Daruma

A Life Coach told me I am important. She charges a lot but evidently gives great advice. She said I have an important mission to accomplish that no one else can perform. I will guide the earth to healing and illumination. I will be published and famous and attain "abundance," which I assume means lots of money. Then I talked to some of her other clients, and she told them all the same thing.

So I hooked up with an Enlightened Yogi. He told me, as long as I devoted my life to helping his movement, teaching his yoga, and preaching his knowledge, the universe would support me with perfect health, wealth, and recognition. But I got tired of being a soldier in his army. I didn't feel free.

One night, when I had pretty much given up hope of doing anything noteworthy for humanity, the Master of Foolishness came to me in a dream and said, "You are totally insignificant." I know that, I said. What should I do about it? He said, "Why do anything about it? You are insignificant. So what? You are nothing but a bubble bursting on a wave in a swirling ocean of chocolate chaos. Plop! You are here. Pop! You are gone. About 50 people will come to your memorial service, and after that, about 5 people will ever think of you again. Soon they too will be gone. So just be insignificant and dance like a bubble of foam on a wave. Forget about yourself and feel some compassion for all those people who are trying to BE somebody, to sell something, to get published, to get heard, to get remembered. Their urge to be somebody is the root their pain. You, on the other hand, attain perfect freedom and weightlessness, you dance like a bubble, because you are completely devoid of importance."

I awoke in a sweat. What a terrible fate, I thought. I'm becoming nobody. So I went to the old man who sells cigars in a beat smoke shop he calls, "Cloud of Unknowing." They say he used to be a zen monk. I told him my dream and he said it was the best damn dream he ever heard.

Art: Konoe Nobutada (1565-1614), Meditating Daruna