Jul 08 2022
Shiwu (Stonehouse) – Trying to become a Buddha is easy
Trying to become a Buddha is easy
by Shiwu (Stonehouse)
English version by Red Pine
Trying to become a Buddha is easy
but ending delusions is hard
how many moonlit nights
have I sat and felt the cold before dawn
— from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

/ Image by Dingzeyu Li /
Trying to become a Buddha is easy
but ending delusions is hard
Shiwu’s opening lines remind me of the first lines of a poem by the Indian poet Lalla:
Learning the scriptures is easy;
but living them, that’s hard.
I think both are saying something similar.
We might reword Shiwu’s lines as, “Trying to become a Buddha is easy, but becoming a Buddha is hard.” The difference in the two phrases is in the trying, the effort. Trying is the easy part. Taking on a practice, following a prescribed pathway, joining a sangha, observing the correct rituals or, as Lalla, says, learning the scriptures, those are simply the forms of spirituality. There may be intense effort, but that effort can just as easily be used by the ego to reinforce its self-identity as a “spiritual” person or to be praised by others for our spiritual “progress.”
The real dilemma is how to go beyond merely following the forms and, instead, to actually use our practices as alchemy to transform and liberate. How do we stop trying to become Buddhas and, instead, actually step free from our delusions?
how many moonlit nights
have I sat and felt the cold before dawn
The poet doesn’t seem to offer us answers… well, perhaps the hint of an answer.
Shiwu gives us the image of meditating through the night and feeling cold by the morning. On one level, that can be read as disappointment with the progress of his meditation. Hoping to be above such things, he finds he is keenly aware of his body and senses in the chilly morning.
But we can read these lines in a slightly different way, as well. A moonlit night is often used in Asian poetry to suggest the gentle illumination perceived by the meditator’s quiet mind. Sitting through many such nights only to notice the cold of the morning suggests that the enlightenment has always been there yet somehow missed or not fully realized. But then we have the dawn. This can be read as illumination in its brilliant, undeniable, all-encompassing form. Enlightenment has been found, but after the effort has ceased.
He stopped trying to become the Buddha and the dawn simply washed away his delusions.
Recommended Books: Shiwu (Stonehouse)
| The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit | ||||
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Shiwu (Stonehouse)
China (1272 – 1352) Timeline |
Shiwu, whose name translates as “Stonehouse,” was a Chan (Zen) monk, hermit, and poet in China during the Yuan Dynasty.
Unlike several other Buddhist poets of the era, Shiwu was a formal monk, well-educated in Buddhist dharma, meditation, and monastic tradition. He studied first in Yushan’s Hsingfu Temple, where he received the dharma name Ch’ing-hung.
He traveled and learned from several masters before he arrived at Chienyang to study with a teacher named Chi-an. Chi-an dismissed the koan Shiwu was previously meditating on, and gave him a new one: “Where Buddhas reside, don’t stop. Where Buddhas don’t reside, rush past.” Frustrated by his new koan for some time, Shiwu had a flash of insight one day, and answered his teacher with, “When the rain stops at the end of spring, the oriole appears on a branch.”
Shiwu helped his teacher Chi-an in his role as abbot of Taochang temple. Shiwu himself later acted as a meditation teacher for some time at Lingyin Timple.
Eventually, Shiwu took up the life of a hermit, removing himself to the Zhongnan Mountains. There he composed his 184 Shan-shih or “Mountain Poems.” His Mountain Poems are quiet observations of details from his humble mountain life. They are specific, even mundane, yet they hint at the meditator’s still and open awareness. His poems and observations of his life of quiet retirement have long been appreciated by monks, hermits, and meditators.
Ivan,
I recalled a line from Rumi via Coleman Barks that relates to both this poem and also your move. “The road home is home.” It’s not just the trying, the method, the practices to reach enlightenment. It’s not just the packing and deciding what to let go and what to keep. Those are all important choices. It may sound simplistic but it’s the lesson in the process. The move from Colorado to Oregon might be seen like a tai chi move – shifting energy. Shift the weight from the Colorado foot to the Oregon foot. Lift the empty Colorado foot. Step. Repeat. Being present to the process. Look, you’re there!
May your move be full of grace!
Michael
That’s a wonderful image for the move: shifting the weight from the Colorado foot to the Oregon foot.