Before Good or Evil: The Teaching of Eno

In this session of our journey through the story of Huineng, whom we refer to here by the Japanese name Eno, we explored one of the most well-known moments in Zen literature.

The scene begins dramatically. After secretly receiving the transmission of the Dharma from the Fifth Ancestor, Hongren, Eno is advised to leave the monastery immediately. The transmission — symbolized by the robe and the bowl — would inevitably create tension among the monks.

Eno escapes into the mountains.

Several monks pursue him. Among them is Huiming, a former military officer who had later become a monk. Strong, determined, and capable, he eventually catches up with Eno in the mountains.

What happens next is unexpected.

When he tries to seize the robe and bowl, he cannot lift them. In that moment something shifts. He realizes that this encounter is not really about objects at all. The robe and bowl are simply symbols. What truly matters is something deeper.

The pursuit stops.

Instead of trying to take the objects, he asks Eno for teaching.

Eno responds with a question that became one of the most famous lines in Zen:

Without thinking of good or evil, what is your original face before your parents were born?

This question lies at the heart of the story.

At first it may sound puzzling. In spiritual practice we often assume that we are trying to become better people — calmer, wiser, more compassionate. While that may indeed happen, Eno points to something even more fundamental.

He does not say, “Think good thoughts.”
He does not say, “Improve your mind.”

Instead he points to the moment before the mind begins judging.

Before the mind divides experience into good and bad, right and wrong, success and failure.

If we observe carefully, the mind does this constantly. We judge our meditation (“good sit” or “bad sit”), our progress (“I’m improving” or “I’m failing”), other people, and everyday situations. These judgments arise so quickly that we rarely notice them.

But each judgment quietly divides the world. There is now a judge, something being judged, and a story about what it all means.

Eno’s question interrupts that movement.

Before the judgment appears — what is here?

Not an idea.
Not a philosophy.

Simply the direct experience of the moment: breathing, hearing, sitting, being alive.

Zen practice is not about eliminating thoughts or becoming perfect. Instead, it invites us to notice what is already present before the mind organizes reality into categories.

Over time, the meaning of this story deepened for me personally.

At first I was simply drawn to the vivid image of two people running through the mountains — one chasing, one fleeing. As someone who loves running in nature, that image immediately resonated with me.

But gradually another layer became clear.

In many ways, this running reflects what our mind does all the time. We run after understanding, improvement, recognition, or certainty.

Yet the awakening in the story does not happen when the pursuer catches Eno.

It happens when he stops chasing.

When he pauses and asks a genuine question.

Our late teacher Shinzan Miyamae sometimes spoke about what he called “the sting of Zen.” This sting appears when Zen becomes another idea we cling to — when we begin building an identity around our practice:

“I understand this teaching.”
“I’ve had this experience.”
“I’m practicing correctly.”

At that point Zen easily becomes another story about ourselves — another subtle form of judgment.

Eno’s words cut through this as well.

Without thinking of good or evil, there is no position to defend, no insight to display, no identity to polish.

There is simply this moment.

Direct. Immediate. Alive.

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning of the story. It is not ultimately about two people running through the forest. It is about stopping the chase — pausing before judgment, before the effort to confirm who we think we are.

And noticing what is already here.


Reflection Questions

During the session participants explored two questions in pairs:

  1. Can you recall a recent moment when your mind quickly judged a situation as good or bad, success or failure? What happened within you when that judgment appeared?
  2. If you pause and allow that judgment to soften or fall away, what remains of the situation? What is present before the mind labels it good or bad?

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Riccardo

My name is Riccardo, I am from Italy but I have been living in Cambridge for more than 20 years. I am a qualified Meditation and Mindfulness teacher, a Zen student and a Zen teacher. I have a degree in Philosophy and a Master degree in Communication Studies. Main hobby, cycling.

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