Married, Father, United
Hôgen asked Senior Monk Kaku, 
“Did you come by boat or by land?” 
Kaku said, 
“By boat.”
Hôgen said, 
“Where is the boat?” 
Kaku said, 
“The boat is on the river.”
After Kaku had withdrawn, Hôgen asked a monk nearby,
“You tell me, did that monk who was here just now have the eye or not?”
When Seppô was living in a hermitage, two monks came to pay their respects. When he saw them coming, Seppô thrust open the gate of his hermitage with his hands, jumped out, and said, “What is this?” The monks also said, “What is this?” Seppô hung his head and retired into his hermitage.
Later, the monks came to Gantô. He asked them, “Where have you come from?” The monks said, “From Reinan.” Gantô said, “Did you ever visit Seppô?” The monks said, “Yes, we visited him.” Gantô said, “What did he say?” The monks related what had happened. Gantô said, “What else did he say?” The monks said, “Not a word; he hung his head and retired into his hermitage.” Gantô said, “Oh, how I regret now that in those days I did not tell him the last word! If I had told it to him, no one under heaven could do anything against him.”
At the end of the summer practice period the monks came back to this conversation and asked him about its meaning. Gantô said, “Why didn’t you ask me about it sooner?” The monks said, “We could not dare to ask you about it.” Gantô said, “Seppô was born on the same stem as I, but he will not die on the same stem. If you want to know the last word, it is just this.”
If a response is required
in a situation, focus within and
feel the inner body. You will
immediately become still and
present as you withdraw
consciousness from the mind,
and the answer or action will
come up from this deeper level.
When Tôzan held a memorial service for Ungan before his portrait, he mentioned the episode with the portrait.
A monk came forward and asked, “When Ungan said, ‘Just this!’ what did that mean?”
Tôzan said, “At that time, I almost misunderstood my master’s meaning.”
The monk said, “I wonder whether or not Ungan really knew that IT is.”
Tôzan said, “If he did not know that it is, how could he say like that? If he knew that it is, how did he dare say like that?”
Vimalakirti asked Manjusri, “What does it mean that the Bodhisattva enters the Dharma-gate of Not-Two?” 
Manjusri said, “I see it like this: in all phenomena, there are neither words nor explanations, neither presentations nor knowledge; it is beyond all questions and answers. That is what I understand with ‘to enter the Dharma-gate of Not-Two’.”
Then Manjusri asked Vimalakirti, “All of us have finished giving our explanations. Now you should give your explanation. What does it mean that the Bodhisattva enters the Dharma-gate of Not-Two?”
Vimalakirti remained silent.
A monk asked Jôshû, 
“What is the meaning of the patriarch’s coming from the West?” 
Jôshû said, “The oak tree there in the garden.”
Great Master Tokusan Emmyô instructed his assembly and said, 
“If you have exhausted to the end, you will realize right away that all buddhas in the three worlds have stuck their mouths to the wall.
Yet there is still one person – he is giving a great laugh. 
If you can recognize that person, you have accomplished your study.”
Razan asked Gantô, 
“What if things appear and disappear without ceasing?” 
Gantô scolded him saying, 
“Who appears and disappears?”
You can always cope
with the now,
but you can never cope with
the future–no do you have
to. The answer, the strength,
the right action, or the
resource will be there when
you need it, not before,
not after.
When he was about to die, Rakuho addressed his assembly and said, “I have one matter to ask you about. If you say ‘yes’ to this, you are putting another head on your own. If you say ‘no,’ you are looking for life by cutting off your head.” 
The head monk said, “The green mountain always lifts up its legs; you don’t need to carry a lantern in the daylight.”
Rakuho said, “What time is this to utter such a saying?”
A senior monk named Genjô stepped forward and said, “Apart from these two ways, I beg you, Master, not to ask.”
Rakuho said, “That’s not enough. Say some more.”
Genjô said, “I cannot say it fully.”
Rakuho said, “I don’t care whether or not you can say it fully.”
Genjô said, “I feel just like an attendant who has nothing to respond to his master.”
That evening, Rakuho called Genjô to him and said, “Your response today had something
quite reasonable. You have to realize what our late master said,
‘There are no dharmas before the eyes,
Yet consciousness is before the eyes.
IT is not the Dharma before the eyes,
IT cannot be reached by eyes and ears.’
Which phrase is the guest? Which phrase is the host? If you can sort them out, I will
transmit the bowl and robe to you.”
Genjô said, “I don’t understand.”
Rakuho said, “You must understand.”
Genjô said, “I really don’t understand.”
Rakuho uttered a kaatz and said, “Miserable, miserable!”
Another monk asked, “What would you like to say, Master?”
Rakuho said, “The boat of compassion is not rowed over pure waves. It’s been wasted labor releasing wooden geese
down the precipitous strait.”
David Given Schwarm 