Meditating with Feng-hsueh

Let's play with a koan. 

Case 24 in the Gateless Barrier reads:

A monk asked Feng-hsueh: "Speech and silence are concerned with equality and differentiation. How can I transcend equality and differentiation?"

Feng-hsueh replied: "I always think of Chiang-nan in March. Partridges chirp among the many fragrant flowers."

Upon first reading such a koan, one might find it quite impenetrable. How do we even engage? How do we enter this conversation? 

To begin, it helps to have a sense of what the monk is asking. 

What matters here is not some historical question about the monk's intentions. What matters is what comes alive for you as you ponder his question. With that, here are some possibilities.... 

The monk seems encumbered by the way speech and silence are concerned with equality and differentiation. What exactly does this monk hope to transcend?

Equality here may refer to the oneness of all things, as "all things by nature are Buddha." 

Differentiation is what allows us to tell a poisonous weed from a cucumber. 

So the monk might be saying, “if all things are different, how are they also one?” It is not infrequent that philosophers are frustrated by this logical contradiction.

Or it may be that the monk has seen that all things are one and two, but he has not yet seen that they are also neither one nor two. “I see the oneness of reality in which self and other fall away. And I see that things are separate entities as well — that there is you, and there is me, and we are not the same. I fall into one perspective, then the other. How can I stop the pendulum?”

Other possibilities regarding the monk's quandary can be found in different translations of the koan. One translation goes like this: "Both speech and silence are concerned with ri (subjectivity) and mi (objectivity). How can we transcend them?" So the monk may be asking, "I have my own separate consciousness, yet there is also an objective reality 'out there.' How can I transcend this duality? How can subject and object be one?"

Perhaps you have other ways that his question comes alive for you? 

It is worth spending some time inquiring into the aliveness of the monk's presentation. The monk is not asking a question just to be playful. He sees that his life depends on finding his way through this thicket. 

A synthesizing, perhaps more fundamental way of hearing his question is this: "Help me! I am lost in dualistic thinking! Show me Nirvana!"

Feng-hsueh responds with cutting directness, I always think of Chiang-nan in March. Partridges chirp among the many fragrant flowers.

If his answer is not immediately apparent, this case has a gift to offer you. 

You might try sitting. Be upright, still, and silent. Pay attention. 

Take your time. 

Then, let the monk's question penetrate you. How can I transcend equality and differentiation? What is he really asking? 

Once the question is alive for you, once you feel the fire in it, let Feng-hsueh’s response fall like a gentle rain. Let his answer float in the atmosphere. Let the koan clarify the great matter.

Even when you leave the cushion, allow Feng-hsueh's words to walk with you. 


Partridges chirp among the many fragrant flowers.

As things become clear, consider visiting a Zen teacher who is authorized to teach koans. 

This is worth sharing.