In our last session we spoke about the secret transmission between the Fifth Ancestor and Eno, or Huineng, symbolised by the robe and the bowl.
After receiving them, Eno was forced to flee the monastery. When the monks discovered what had happened, many of them began chasing him.
Among them was one monk in particular: Mio.
Formerly a soldier, he was strong and determined, and he pursued Eno with the clear intention of recovering the robe and the bowl—the symbols of transmission.
This part of the story feels deeply human.
According to the expectations of the monastery, the senior monk should surely have become the successor. Instead, the transmission was given to a poor, illiterate worker from the south of China.
For many of the monks, something must have seemed terribly wrong.
We know something of this ourselves.
We carry an idea of how things should unfold. Who deserves what. What should happen next. How other people should behave. How our own lives should develop.
And then reality does something else.
Frustration appears. Resentment. Disappointment.
The world has failed to follow our script.
Eventually, Mio catches Eno.
The first thing he wants is the robe and the bowl. He has chased Eno through the mountains for them.
But Eno does something unexpected.
He places the robe and the bowl on a rock.
They are symbols of transmission, he tells Mio. They cannot truly be taken by force.
If Mio wants them, he is free to take them.
According to the story, Mio tries to lift them.
He cannot.
Whether we understand this literally or symbolically may not matter very much.
What matters is what happens next.
Mio stops trying to take them.
The former soldier who has chased Eno through the mountains, determined to recover these objects, suddenly does something completely different.
He asks for teaching.
Something has changed.
Until that moment, Mio knew what he wanted. He knew what had gone wrong. He knew what he had to recover.
Now he asks a question.
There is something familiar here in practice.
We can begin meditation looking for something.
Perhaps calm.
Perhaps insight.
Perhaps some special experience.
Perhaps simply reassurance that we’re doing it properly and getting somewhere.
There is nothing particularly wrong with any of this.
But practice has an interesting way of interfering with the search.
We may begin to notice how easily we turn experiences, achievements, roles and even insights into things we can possess.
I had this experience.
I understand this.
I have reached this point.
And perhaps, without noticing, we find ourselves chasing another robe and bowl.
The objects themselves are not the problem.
The robe is still a robe.
The bowl is still a bowl.
The interesting part of the story may be the moment when Mio can no longer take what he thought he needed to take.
He has chased Eno all that way.
Now the robe and the bowl are sitting directly in front of him.
And he cannot lift them.
So he stops.
And asks.
Questions for Reflection
During the session we explored two questions together:
- Can you recognize something you have strongly pursued in your life or practice, believing it would change everything?
- Has there been a moment when you realized that what you were chasing was not really necessary?
These questions are not about judging what we have wanted or regretting what we have pursued.
Perhaps they simply give us an opportunity to notice the things we are still chasing.
And what happens when, even briefly, we stop.
