Old Lady Koans | Dave's Place

The Hidden Lamp: Stories from Twenty-Five Centuries of Awakened Women. Edited by Florence Caplow and Susan Moon. Wisdom Publications. 455 pp. $18.95

Among my favorite Zen teachings are the Old Lady stories, where some pompous Zen master thinks a great deal of himself and has his bubble burst by a woman who has no apparent status (like the famous tea seller who confronted the King of the Diamond Sutra and made him realize he knew nothing). Probably my favorite is a good-natured one, about a Zen master who wasn’t pompous at all, and understood the spiritual depth of all people.

“An old woman went to hear Master Hakuin give a lecture. He said, ‘Your mind is the Pure Land, and your body is Amida Buddha. When Amida Buddha appears, mountains, rivers, forests, and fields all radiate a great light. If you want to understand, look into your own heart.’

“The old woman pondered Hakuin’s words day and night, waking and sleeping. One day, as she was washing a pot after breakfast, a great light flashed through her mind. She dropped the pot and ran to tell Hakuin. ‘Amida Buddha filled my whole body. Mountains, rivers, forests, and fields are all shining with light. How wonderful!’ She danced for joy.

“‘What are you talking about?’ Hakuin asked. ‘Does the light shine up your asshole?’

“Small as she was, she gave him a big push, saying, ‘I can see you’re not enlightened yet!’ They both burst out laughing.”

I had actually read this story, and Shinge Roko Sherry Chayat’s[1] reflection on it, in Lion’s Roar. Imagine my delight when I discovered there was a whole book of these things.

It’s a nervy project on the face of it. First you find a hundred of these stories, which are bound to vary in quality. Then you choose a hundred different women to comment on them, without knowing how deep their understandings are or how well they write. I won’t claim every entry is uniformly excellent, but it’s amazing how good many of them are. This is the kind of anthology where I limited myself to one story per night, because if I hadn’t I would have raced through it so fast that I wouldn’t have gotten anything out of it. Also, despite the short bios, I invariably looked up the commentator on the Internet to find out what else she had done. And I often sneaked a peek at the next day’s story without reading the commentary, I was so interested. I might look up the next day’s commentator as well. It took me forever to get through this book. But I loved taking a long time. I looked forward to it every night.

Some of the stories are about contemporary women, like Darlene Cohen and Joko Beck (two of my favorites). Many well-known teachers are among the commentators, and they all seem matched with stories that interest them. I have no idea how this project came together. But I wasn’t surprised at its high quality when I saw Susan Moon’s name on it. Everything she’s done is excellent. Florence Caplow—a new name for me—also has a remarkable pedigree.

A few of the stories are startlingly sexy.

“Miazong said, ‘Do you want a Dharma interview or a worldly interview?’

“‘A Dharma interview,’ replied Wanan.

“Miazong said, ‘Then send your attendants away.’ She went into the room first and after a few moments she called out, ‘Please come in.’

“When Wanan entered he saw Miaozong lying naked on her back on the bed. He pointed at her genitals, saying, ‘What is this place?’

“Miazong replied, ‘All the buddhas of the three worlds, the six patriarchs, and all great monks came out of this place.’

Wanan said, ‘And may I enter?’

Miaozong replied, ‘Horses may cross; asses may not.’”

So much for Wanan.

You have to wonder what a worldly interview would have been.

Other stories have a wonderful irreverence.

“One day her father peeked into her room and saw her sitting on a copy of the Lotus Sutra. ‘What are you doing, sitting on this precious scripture?’ he shouted.

‘How is this wonderful sutra different from my ass?’ she said.

Darlene Cohen also had a great capacity for irreverence.

“About two weeks before Surei Darlene Cohen passed away, she was lying on the small sofa of her living room and a few students were there. In true form, Darlene announced matter-of-factly, ‘I don’t believe in karma or any of that shit.’”

A few are just great stories. They don’t seem to be koans at all.

“The Australian nun chi Kwang Sunim had the opportunity to meet a 102-year-old Korean nun, Kye Jeon Sunim, who had meditated for years. When Chi Kwang came into her presence, the old nun was sitting upright, with a rosary of black beads and a rosary of white beads twirling together in her left hand, silently repeating her mantra and gazing into space in front of her. The old nun grabbed Chi Kwang’s hand and pulled her close.

“When Chi Kwang yelled in the hard-of-hearing nun’s ear, ‘I’m a foreigner!’ the old nun held up the mingled black and white beads and said, ‘Let’s practice together.’

“When Chi Kwang asked the old nun about her past, she replied, ‘What past?’ Then the old nun smiled and said, ‘Let’s become enlightened together.’”

In addition to having marvelous content, The Hidden Lamp is a beautiful volume, with an extensive index, bios of the commentators, and a helpful glossary. The book is obviously a labor of love. I’m not much of a man for anthologies—I prefer to delve into single author—but I can’t recommend this one too highly.

[1] I can’t speak too highly of this teacher. Not only does she have some wonderful articles at Lions Roar, she wrote the single most inspiring definition of Zen I’ve ever read.