Zen Master Hakuin lived in Japan in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He is said to have created the now-famous question, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” Hakuin believed that the understanding arising out of practice in everyday life was deeper than the understanding that comes from practicing in the monastery, since lay people faced more distractions, held more responsibilities, and experienced more heartbreak than the monks, and so needed to practice with firm diligence.
Hakuin was greatly respected and had many disciples. At one time in his life, it is said that he lived in a village hermitage, close to a food shop run by a couple and their beautiful daughter. One day the parents discovered that the young girl was pregnant. Angry and distraught, they demanded to know the name of the father. At first, the girl wouldn’t confess, but after much harassment, she named Hakuin. The furious parents confronted Zen Master Hakuin, berating him in front of all of his students. He simply replied, “Is that so?”
When the baby was born, the family gave it to Hakuin. By this time, he had lost his reputation and his disciples. But Hakuin was not disturbed. He took delight in caring for the infant child, obtaining milk and other essentials from the villagers. After a year, the young mother was troubled and confessed to her parents that the father was not Hakuin but rather a young man who worked at the fish market. The mortified parents went to Hakuin, apologizing, asking for forgiveness for the wrong they’d committed. They asked Hakuin to return the baby. Although he now loved the infant as his own, Hakuin gave them the child without complaint, saying only, “Is that so?”
We respond to surprises and disruptions in several ways, depending on the degree of inconvenience. When the telephone rings and interrupts what we’re doing, we accept it with little protest. If we develop a flat tire while driving downtown, or the power goes out at home or at work, we might feel annoyed, but hold no residual anger toward anyone. When our car gets rear-ended or we get laid off from work, we probably experience negative emotions. When we can let go of them, we will have no problem. But when they remain, suffering arises.
Hakuin’s story is about the mind of enlightenment, showing us how equanimity can be expressed in the midst of the surprises and challenges of ordinary life. It’s a love story—without an object—a universal embrace of every situation, without judgment. It illustrates the mind of practice, of no attachments, and no “self” to defend, simply accommodation and taking care.
People come to Zen practice in search of an epiphany, some kind of enlightenment to feel special, experience excitement, or acquire power. They fail to recognize their purpose as just another effort at acquisition. Even if an exciting experience does occur, the basic unease is unaddressed. Although we believe we need to acquire things to gain happiness, what we really want is the flexible mind of Hakuin. Buddha’s mind of no suffering embraces change without resistance because it understands the true nature of all things.
In his treatise on zazen, Fukanzazengi, Dogen advises, “Put aside the intellectual practice of investigating words and chasing phrases, and learn to take the backward step that turns the light and shines it inward.” This admonition is not easy to put into practice; it requires complete dedication, a willingness to go beyond the thinking patterns and judgmental tendencies of our usual mind.
Look carefully at an image of Buddha, the half-closed eyes and slight smile expressing wisdom and serenity, a mind at rest. The straight back and head held upright expresses discipline and determination. The mind of a Buddha is already in us. Equanimity can help us in our daily lives amidst the most difficult surprises and disruptions.