This case follows directly from the previous koan, where the Buddha holds up a flower and Kashyapa smiles.
In Case 22, Ananda asks Kashyapa:
“Besides the golden robe, what did the Buddha transmit to you?”
Kashyapa calls:
“Ananda!”
Ananda answers:
“Yes, sir!”
Kashyapa says:
“Knock down the flagpole at the gate.”
That’s it. That’s the whole case.
I find this koan fascinating because Ananda seems to be asking a very reasonable question.
The Buddha transmitted the robe to Kashyapa, but was there something else? Was there some teaching, some secret, some final piece of understanding that Kashyapa received and Ananda somehow missed?
At least, that is what I sense behind the question.
Perhaps Ananda is looking for something.
Something more.
Something that can be understood, received or possessed.
But Kashyapa does not give him an explanation.
He simply calls his name.
“Ananda!”
And Ananda answers immediately.
“Yes, sir!”
Before there is time to explain, analyse or search for some hidden teaching, there is simply the call and the response.
Then Kashyapa says:
“Knock down the flagpole at the gate.”
What is this flagpole?
Traditionally, a flag raised outside a monastery could indicate that a Dharma debate was taking place. Knocking down the flagpole could therefore suggest that the debate is over.
But when I work with this case, the flagpole also becomes something more personal.
To me, it can represent some of the structures I build and then hold on to.
My ideas about enlightenment.
My ideas about being a good Zen practitioner.
My ideas about doing things correctly.
My roles.
My identity.
Even my doubts.
All the things I can construct and then begin to treat as solid.
When I work with the case, I sometimes hear “knock down the flagpole” as an invitation to drop some of these structures.
Not necessarily forever.
Just now.
What remains when I am not trying to become something?
This is something I can explore in zazen.
I sit down and immediately the mind can begin constructing another flagpole.
Am I sitting correctly?
Is my breathing right?
Am I concentrated enough?
Is this good zazen?
Should something be happening?
And perhaps, for a moment, I can knock that flagpole down.
There is the breath.
Gravity.
The body sitting.
Nothing particularly special needs to happen.
I find something similar when cycling.
Sometimes I can become caught up in ideas about how fast I should be riding, how strong I should feel, what distance I should cover or what kind of cyclist I think I am.
Then the road changes.
There is a hill.
A corner.
Traffic.
Wind.
Something in the bicycle.
And the situation requires a response.
Not the ideal ride in my head.
This ride.
This moment.
Perhaps that is one way I can practise with this koan.
Not by finding the correct interpretation of the flagpole, but by noticing the flagpoles I keep putting up.
And occasionally knocking one down.
Kashyapa calls:
“Ananda!”
Ananda answers:
“Yes, sir!”
When life calls your name — Ananda! — just answer.
“Yes, sir!”
