Throwing a shoe
I came across this passage the other day which I wish to comment on. It is from D.T. Suzuki's book, Essays in Zen Buddhism. As the reader may soon learn, I plan to get wordy (but I promise I won't give Joshu's secret away).
"To cite another instance before going further into the subject proper. The same old Jôshu was asked another time, 'One light divides itself into hundreds of thousands of lights; may I ask where this one light originates?' This question like the last mentioned is one of the deepest and most baffling problem of philosophy. But the old master did not waste much time in answering the question, nor did he resort to any wordy discussion. He simply threw off one of his shoes without a remark. What did he mean by it?"
First let me say, that we encounter the enigmatic almost always in any treatment of Zen Buddhist literature. The reason why this happens is because for a Zen master like Joshu the radiant, animative power of Mind, that is the "light", is not hidden from him. He has come into communion with it it—which I hasten to add is also the Buddha. Joshu's light animates Joshu. Joshu knows this. This is Joshu's wisdom or sapience.
Any student who, after a long journey, comes to abbot Joshu’s temple seeking the essence of Zen is pretty much clueless, otherwise why would he travel so far? He is not wise but is engaged, nevertheless, in seeking wisdom.
Let's now try to put our mind in Joshu's big Mind. When the student asks his question, Joshu fully understands the originary power of the light. But if the student is to receive the correct enlightening answer, he needs to be baptized by this light which obviously he isn’t. So when Joshu gives the student the correct, enlightening answer, he misses it altogether.
The enlightening answer is, in fact, Joshu throwing off one of his shoes. To be sure, Joshu’s act is illustrative of the light’s power. But since the student is wholly identified with his temporal body he doesn’t get Joshu’s timely and correct answer to his question (and probably Suzuki didn’t get it either). He draws a blank from seeing Joshu’s unexpected antic.
Despite Joshu’s own profound wisdom—even he couldn’t get this dull fellow to see the obvious. And why? Because this student is, by desire, fixated on the animate, viz., the physical body and its representational mental system. The student believes that the body, itself, is capable of realizing what made Joshu throw his shoe. Or worse still, he believes he can capture it with a net of words.