Zen Women

Welcome to Zen Women

This blog gathers in one place all available stories of female Zen practitioners in Tang Dynasty China.

Sadly, only about fifty such stories have appeared in translation. If you discover additional stories, let me know and I'll add them to the collection. Thanks!

Of the women in these stories, only a few have names (and most of these are from the Sung Dynasty, not the "golden age" of the Tang). Most were simply called "a nun" or "an old woman."

Zen Women categorizes the stories in three natural groups:

Teaching All Beings
A few Tang women assumed either formal or informal teaching roles. While some of these women were named, most were not.

Equal to All Beings
Some Tang women, by virtue of their wisdom and strong centers, engaged freely in dharma discourse with male peers. While not necessarily teachers, these women were certainly equal to their male counterparts.

Learning from All Beings
Most Tang women, of course, were represented as students of the great teachers. This is how everyone begins.

While most of the cases in this blog date from the Tang Dynasty, a few come from earlier periods. I’ve also included several involving Zen Master Yüan-wu, the Sung Dynasty teacher who commented extensively on The Blue Cliff Record collection of kung-ans.

I offer this blog as a way to widen the gate of Dharma and weaken barriers to practice that arise from attachment to gender.

May these cases inspire and encourage modern women to cultivate practice in their own lives. Likewise, may this collection help men let go of ancient and subtle stereotypes. And may we together open our hearts to all beings.

Book: Zen Women

As  you know, the teachings and histories of Zen's female ancestors, from the time of the Buddha, and in China, Korea, and Japan, have mostly been lost.

For this reason, I'm delighted to announce the publication of a new book that makes heard the voices of women who have shared the responsibility of transmitting Zen. This book becomes available today from Amazon and other resellers. You can order it here.

Zen Women: Beyond Tea Ladies, Iron Maidens, and Macho Masters

by Grace Schireson

While there have been a few other books on this topic, and while you can read the stories of these women on the Zen Women blog, this book is the first to examine the human beings behind mythology and stereotype. In so doing, Grace Schireson offers a view of a more balanced view of our shared tradition.

Grace Schireson is a dharma heir of Sojun Mel Weitsman and the Suzuki Roshi lineage of Soto Zen. She has also been empowered to teach koans by Keido Fukushima Roshi, abbot of Tofukuji in Kyoto.

I've ordered my copy and look forward to sharing it with you in the coming weeks.

Yu Nudges Yuan-wu

Just as Yüan-wu approached the teaching seat on the day he began to teach at Chia-shan, Yü bounded forth from the assembly.

She gave him a nudge with her body and went back into the crowd.

Yüan-wu said, “When you see the strangeness as not strange, the strangeness disappears of itself.”

The next day Yüan-wu went to her house. She shouted, “Such a yellow-mouthed little boy—and you say you’re a teacher?”

Yüan-wu said, “Don’t brag so much, lady. I’ve recognized you.”

Then she laughed and came out to meet him.

Commentary
This story from an Sung Dynasty teacher falls outside the time period of the most of the other stories this blog. But its charm argues for its inclusion. Beginning in the Sung Dynasty, women Zen practitioners gain
greater prominence in the records and more of them are named. In part this is due to the greater emphasis on record-keeping during this period. During the “Golden Age” of Zen in the T’ang Dynasty, record-keeping was hit-and-miss and official "records" were sometimes created long after a teacher’s death.

Source: The Roaring Stream, edited by Nelson Foster and Jack Shoemaker
Photo by foundphotoslj

An Anonymous Bhiksuni

When an anonymous bhiksuni wanted to give a formal Ch’an lecture, the monk T’an-kung said to her, “A bhiksuni, as a woman, should not give a Ch’an teaching.”

The bhiksuni said, “What do you have to say about the eight-year-old Dragon Girl becoming a Buddha?”

“The Dragon Girl can do eighteen kinds of transformations. Can you just make one transformation for this old monk?”

“Even if one can transform oneself, one is nothing but a wild-fox spirit.” said the bhiksuni.

T’an-kung then kicked her out.

Commentary
T'an-kung killed her with the first kick.

Source:  Transmission of the Lamp, translated by Shi Tao-Yuan
Photo by Mrs. W

Off to Somewhere

The Master [Lin-chi] went to see Feng-lin. On the way, he met an old woman.

"Off somewhere?" she asked.

"Off to Feng-lin," the Master said.

"I think you'll find that Feng-lin isn't in right now," the old woman said.

"Off somewhere?" said the Master.

The old woman walked away.

The Master called after her. She turned her head, whereupon the Master walked away.

Commentary
How often are we "off somewhere?" Lin-chi returned from his journey just in the nick of time.

Source: Zen Teachings of Master Lin-chi, translated by Burton Watson
Photo by Tim Samoff

The Iron Grinder Turns

Tzu Hu studied under Nan Ch'uan. He was a fellow student of Chao-chou and Tiger Ts'en [Ch'ang Sha]. At that time, Iron Grinder Liu had set up a hut on Mt. Keui. People from all over couldn't cope with her.

One day Tzu Hu came proudly to call on her. He asked, "You're Iron Grinder Liu, aren't you?"

The Grinder said, "I don't presume to say so."

Tzu Hu said, "Do you turn to the left or turn to the right?"

The Grinder said, "Don't tip over, Teacher."

Hu struck her while her words were still in the air.

Commentary
Hseuh Tou comments, in part:

Turning to the left, turning to the right, following up behind;

You still can't let yourself go. Reflections upon reflections, echoes upon echoes. I strike!

Tzu Hu had to hit Iron Grindstone Liu.

I'd break the staff and no longer carry out this order. He draws his bow after the thief has gone, so I strike. Danger!

Source: Blue Cliff Record, translated by Thomas Cleary and J.C. Cleary
Photo by Old Onliner

Iron Grinder Liu Visits Kuei Shan

Iron Grinder Liu arrived at Kuei Shan's place. Kuei Shan said, "Old cow, so you've come?"

The Grinder said, "Tomorrow there's a great communal feast on T'ai Shan. Are you going to go, Teacher?"

Kuei Shan relaxed his body and lay down.

The Grinder immediately left.

Commentary
Iron Grinder Liu’s name is thought to have been Liu Tiemo. Some translations refer to her as “Grinder,” others use the name, “Grindstone.”

Hsüeh Tou [the compiler of The Blue Cliff Record] comments: “The nun ‘Iron Grindstone’ Liu was like a stone-struck spark, like a lightening flash; hesitate and you lose your body and your life...[she] had studied for a long time; her active edge was sharp and dangerous...Kuei Shan is over six hundred miles from Mt. T’ai; how then did Iron Grindstone Liu want to have Kuei Shan go to the feast? Tell me, what was her meaning? This old lady understands Kuei Shan’s conversation: fiber coming, thread going, one letting go, one gathering in; they answer back to each other like two mirrors reflecting each other, without any reflecting image to be seen. Action to action, they complement each other; phrase to phrase, they accord. People these days can be poked three times and not turn their heads, but this old lady couldn’t be fooled one little bit.”

 

Source: Blue Cliff Record, translated by Thomas Cleary and J.C. Cleary
Photo by Jerrold Bennett

What Is It?

Fan Hsien-chien used to sit constantly, never lying down. When she heard that Yuan-we was at Chao-cheuh temple in Ch'eng-tu [the province where she lived], she went to pay her respects to him and asked for guidance in the Way. Yuan-wu told her to contemplate the saying, "It's not mind, it's not Buddha, it's not a thing."

She contemplated it for a long time without sucess. Finally, in frustration, she asked Yuan-wu, "What expedient method do you have to make it easier for me to understand?"

Yuan-wu said, "There is a method," and he had her contemplate simply, "What is it?"

Later she had an awakening and said, "After all, it was always so close!"

Commentary
As with the last post, Chiao-an Awakens, this is a Song Dynasty story involving Yuan-wu. Both stories are notable because the woman practitioner is recognized with a name. In the stories from the earlier Tang Dynasty, most women are simply known as "a nun," "a woman," or a "grandmother."

As Fan Hsien-chien says, it is always so close. Why do we need a method?

Source: The Roaring Stream, edited by Nelson Foster and Jack Shoemaker
Photo by ex.libris

Chiao-an Awakens

Chiao-an was the niece of a high official of the Sung dynasty. When she was young, she set her heart on the way of Ch’an; she decided early on not to marry or bear children.

She experienced clear awakening at the words of Yüan-wu as he spoke to the assembly.

Yüan-wu said to her, “You should go on to erase your views—then you will finally be free.”

She answered in verse,

The pillar pulls out the bone sideways;
The void shows its claws and fangs;
Even if one profoundly understands,
There is still sand in the eye.

Commentary
This story originated in the Song Dynasty, not the Tang, but I include it in this collection for two reasons. First, Yuan-wu was the author/compiler of the Blue Cliff Record, an important collection of kong-ans. Second, Chiao-an's poem is remarkably sharp and thus worthy of wider recognition.

Photo by Brad Swick

An Old Woman Stays with Chao-chou

There was an old woman who came into the temple at nightfall.

The master [Chao-chou] said, “What are you doing?”

The old woman said, “I’ve come to stay overnight.”

The master said, “What place is this place?”

The old woman laughed heartily and left.

Commentary
The old woman had designs on Chao-chou but Chao-chou couldn’t be had.

This is yet another story in which Chao-chou's interaction with a woman contains sexual innuendo.

Source: The Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Joshu, translated by James Green
Photo by Russell Harrison

Old Women's Talk

In the Dharma Hall, Master Yün-men said:

“I will be candid with you; I know someone when I meet him. But in spite of such old women’s talk you fail to understand. You gorge yourselves every day, and after your meals you prowl up and down. What kind of vessel are you looking for? You pack of wild foxes! What the hell are you doing here?”

The Master chased all the monks at once out with his staff.

“. . .What is it that you call ‘buddha’ and ‘patriarch’? What is it that you call mountain, river, the earth, sun, moon, and stars? And what do you regard as the four elements and the five components?”

“When I talk this way, I call it ‘talk by a granny from a three-house hamlet.’ If I’d happen to come across a real pilgrim and he’d hear me talk like this, he couldn’t be reproached if he grabbed me by my leg and threw
me down the steps.”

Having entered the Dharma Hall for a formal instruction, Master Yün-men said:

“I cannot help giving medicine to the dead horse. I’m telling you: ‘What is it?’ Is it east or west, north or south, being or not-being, seeing or hearing, up there beyond or down her below, so or not-so?”

“This is called ‘boondock granny talk.’ But how many of you have reached this realm? Whether you’re in accordance with it or not: may it come about in a quiet place!”

With this, the Master left the hall.

Commentary
There is no record of Yün-men teaching or encountering women. 

But although these three stories don’t feature women as actors, they do convey the high regard in which Yün-men held the wisdom of older women. In fact, he equates his own speech with that of small-town grandmothers.

Grandmothers shower young children with kind words, candy, and unwavering love. Ch’an masters frequently refer to “grandmotherly kindness” and sometimes describe the “compassion of a grandmother’s heart.” Those who live near a grandmother in a three-house hamlet may feel especially fortunate as a result of the many blessings the granny bestows upon them.

Source:  Master Yunmen by Urs App
Photo by Francois Bester