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It is said that we mingle eyebrows with the ancestors. Yep, that can happen. In fact, sitting down in the basement, up pop two such ancestors, Linji and Zhaozhou, their words echoing across mountains and hills.

Once, when addressing the assembly, Linji posed an interesting question. He brought up the topic of lack, that fear of missing out, of being somehow deficient in body, mind, and spirit in the ability to love or be loved, in not having enough money, or not being wise enough. What do you lack? Speaking the word “lack,” Linji conjures up a world of hurt as you put your lack between yourself and the simplicity of being here.

In your life right now, what is it you lack, what is it that practice must mend? 

This from Linji reminded me of Zhaozhou. Once, a student thinking that they were somehow left out, came looking for the true Dharmakaya, the body of reality, that which might put their mind to rest. That’s what you do when you think there is something to get, something that you don’t have: you go looking. The student ends up at Zhaozhou’s place and asks:

What is the true Dharmakaya of the Buddha?

I love Zhaozhou’s response. He puts the student right back on themselves—their dissatisfaction, their suffering, their lack. 

He answered, Is there anything else you don’t like? 

Dislike and lack. When this happens to me, I dislike the feeling of lack. What is it called? Sometimes it is FOMO, the fear of missing out. Like a wallflower at the dance, I feel life is going on around me and I am not included. Ouch.

When Zhaozhou and Linji actually met, way back in the day, Zhaozhou, on pilgrimage, was not quite as clueless as Linji’s assembly. Zhaozhou came upon Linji, just as he was washing his feet. In Entangling Vines Case 207, we eavesdrop on the meeting of two worthies. This is how it went:

 Zhaozhou asked, “What is the meaning of Bodhidharma’s coming from the West?”
“Right now I happen to be washing my feet,” replied Linji.
Zhaozhou came closer and made a show of listening.
Linji said, “Do I have to toss out a second ladleful of dirty water?!”
Zhaozhou departed.

Looks like a meeting to me. A moment in and outside of time where nothing is missing, no lack. The sound of water running into the basin, a tilting of the head, a cocking the ear to listen, and then a quick upside-down appreciation. I’d leave, too. There is nothing to get here. Nothing else to do.

Join us Thursday.

—David Parks

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David Parks Roshi, Director of Bluegrass Zen