The role of guestmaster at a Chan retreat entails the responsibility for ensuring the comfort of the participants and visiting Master, the availability of necessary supplies and the organisation of affairs to ensure the even flow of the retreat programme. Together with Chief Cook and the Retreat Disciplinarian the work of the Guestmaster maintains the background quality of a retreat.
When I undertook this task with Shifu, I knew that it would not be an easy one. I wanted to ensure that as many applicants as possible would be able to benefit from Shifu's presence in this country, his first visit since his 1989 introduction of orthodox Chan to Britain at the Maenllwyd. Some thirty-two participants were coming, stretching our accommodation and resources to the limits.
The weeks before the retreat saw a detailed checking of equipment, everything from knives and forks to mats, zafus from Throssel Hole, chairs for mealtimes and new floor coverings. There were shopping expeditions, letters sent and parcels received and a considerable financial outlay to bring the quantities up to the required level and on time for the retreat.
The tunnel through the wall connecting the new Chan Hall to the house had to be completed. I was anxious that we could all move easily between the two to avoid repeated taking on and off of shoes to cross the mud of the yard between events. Edward, the builder, pushed the hole through on time, but everything was covered with the fine dust from his hearty demolitions. I went up to Pant-y-dwr a couple of days early to find the job only just completed and spent hours cleaning as well as laying out the rooms.
This needed careful planning. A Chan retreat has a tight schedule and everything must flow together in sequence. For this to happen all blocks need eliminating, so I worked out a scheme to ensure the optimum flow of persons. From Chan hall to dining space and back again and from sleeping areas to exercise yard and so on. Also because of shortage of space, extra tables for meals had to be erected and laid just before each meal and this had to be organised carefully. Finally I visualised each day's proceedings and imagined the various hold ups that could occur. By arranging everything appropriately I thought the retreat would run easily in spite of the pressure of so many people. Only the event itself would prove me right or wrong.
When everyone arrived they gradually occupied their sleeping places. Some discrete arrangements had been called for, the elderly being placed near toilets and the ladies, being displaced from their usual bedroom, given one of the upper floors of the Chan hall. The "toughies" were allocated the large unheated barn across the yard where they could see clouds or stars floating past the holes in the roof. The "toughies" are a special breed of participant many of whom have been coming to the Maenllwyd since the days when such conditions were the accepted norm. Among them are long distance third world travellers, mountaineers, an ex-Antarctic surveyor and those who just like making conditions for themselves as challenging as possible. When Shifu saw my own tent forlornly withstanding a Welsh April shower he was seriously alarmed for my health. I told him I was off to Mount Kailas in a month and needed some training!
Everything seemed to be settling down nicely when Shifu upset it all! I had carefully spaced out the sitting spaces in the Chan hall by using the upper floors as well as the main room. All this had been agreed by postal discussion. Suddenly Shifu said "No, put 'em all together" or the Mandarin to that effect. Hurriedly I reorganised, reflecting on the beauties of the Zen discipline, until everyone was within millimetres of each other, gasping from compression and appearing to meditate. It was a hard first day but then Shifu relented and gradually we spaced out again up into the attics. I think the need for air flow did it.
Shifu himself arrived with a cold and I was greatly concerned about him because, after Taiwan, mid-Wales in April can be dangerously chilling. Guo Yen Hse was also worried about him and we spent some time eliminating drafts and checking the heating. The "air pollution" was worrying them both and I realised they were caught between the Atlantic freshness of the oceanic hill breezes and the stuffiness of paraffin stoves. My explanation that the air was probably the least polluted in Britain did not seem to convince them and I muttered on in my mind remembering the air conditions in New York and Taipai. Shifu began wearing a surgical mask but whether it was from fear of spreading his own cold, the germs of others or the air pollution I was unable to determine.
Unknown to retreatants things came to a crisis on the third day when Guo Yen Hse was seriously worried about Shifu's cold. Shifu said that since I could run retreats as well as he I had better take over. What sort of Zen joke was this, I asked myself. I assembled all four participant Western doctors and Shifu provided them with a detailed account of his symptoms. Nodding their heads wisely they tut-tuttingly remarked that antibiotics merely made things worse and that it was bound to pass. I prescribed heavy rest until the evening lecture. Shifu, fortified by this encounter, was indomitably back on form by late afternoon. Grinning, he told me he had taken some of his Chinese medicine. Certainly he never looked back, as all participants know.
One thing I never had to worry about was food. The cooks did marvels and Simon's oriental flair was being much appreciated. In spite of great difficulty, meals were faultlessly on time and the Zen of cookery much in evidence. Working with Guo Yen Hse was learningful. In spite of considerable pressure he was sustaining an ease of manner and a kind of light personal discipline that touched me deeply and gave me confidence. When he felt something needed correction he would take me aside gently and politely mention it. I usually managed to put it right. Likewise the strength of mind shown by Paul Kennedy, our interpreter, impressed me greatly. He was having problems sleeping and sitting but never once did this show in his excellent and often witty work for us.
Surprisingly, once the retreat got underway I lost my anxieties. The flow of events and the way in which, in spite of everything, the retreat fell together delighted me. I let the universe take over and applied my method. Some very good sittings followed and my mind calmed. Shifu's teachings were often inspiring and I delighted especially in the method of Direct Meditation. It came naturally to me as I love the contemplation of nature and it had clear affinity with Dzogschen teaching which I had received from some Tibetan teachers. When the retreat was well advanced Shifu called me to him. He was smiling. Good news, he said, one of the participants has attained kensho. I was delighted especially when I learned who it was. I had known this man, a doctor, for some years. He had come to many Western Zen Retreats previously. During his first retreats he had cried a great deal being blessed by this freedom to weep out his suffering. Then on one retreat, as we were chanting, he had suddenly gained a deep insight into the meaning of the Heart Sutra, an insight that left him weeping and laughing at the same time and at intervals thereafter. He had found the insight so beautiful and yet so ordinary that only so could he express it. Having had a comparable experience myself I felt I knew what was happening. On later retreats these experiences had recurred to him with an increasing clarity until in one interview he had given me so profound an insight into the sutra and its meaning that I felt sure he had "seen the nature". I shared this with him but felt I would like his experience to be validated by Shifu. I had not explicitly identified him to Shifu and awaited the result of his retreat this time with interest. His report is presented below.
Shifu told us he does not frequently validate such insights unless he is very sure. He feels that many transmissions given in Japan are rather trivial because of the pressure of the training system of young monks. He would prefer caution, since true "seeing the nature" is often preceded by emotional states that look like it and feel exceptional but lack the clarity of the real thing. He said that his recognition of this participant's attainment should remain confidential during the retreat. He was against public pronouncements like school prize-givings. In any case, he told us, nothing has been attained except an insight into the ground of one's own nature that was already there. To make any kind of announcement would merely block others, setting up targets, imaginings, envy and making people strain for a goal for which they might not be ready. Furthermore, there is nothing for the person involved to be proud about. Yet he may make the mistake of becoming so and then seeking egoistically for more such proofs of his attainment. This would be a sad if understandable error.
Insights such as this come about by the effects of good karma. I would almost use the term "grace" for it. There is nothing one can do to "attain" it except follow the method and train diligently. It may or may not arise, only doing so indeed when the desire for it and the implied self-cherishing entirely vanish. This is a natural event when certain conditions ripen. Because no-one can find it with a desiring ego, training in humility and patience is the only way. It is for this reason too that the goal of Shifu's retreats is not set on such a target. The goal is training in awareness, the realisation of one's own condition and how little one understands it or controls one's behaviour and inner experiences, repentance and the gaining of a Zen attitude through hearing the teachings and practising the methods.
All this meant that nothing was said in public. It was a private matter like the content of all interviews with the Master. The participant asked Shifu how he should speak of the occurrence. Describe what happened without evaluation, was the answer. Shifu has subsequently mentioned this event in his New York journal and I feel that it is now a good thing to tell of it here, for it is only during the retreat itself that such mentioning can most seriously mislead. To talk about it in the terms above is moreover important. Many people have serious miscomprehensions on this subject and give themselves a lot of trouble as a result. The competitive become more so, the jealous - mean, the depressed - mournful and the successful - arrogant. It is important to read the Masters on this subject. In many cases a great Master had only one or two such deep experiences in his whole life which was otherwise devoted to deep training in compassion towards others. Often the first experience is quite trivial and only after many years is deeper insight attained. Some great teachers never "see the nature" and yet make major contributions to human life. Others stand frequently within its transcending yet ordinary presence. The whole matter is part of the expression of the mystical capacity of the human mind which many Buddhists have also experienced with varying degrees of depth and frequency. Shifu says that the significance of the insight within Zen is the confirmation it brings of the accuracy of the teachings.
While writing this I wondered whether there was anything in the participant's report that might be a guide to others. Reading it carefully I note the following points. Firstly this participant was unusually focused and determined. He already knew what he was after but also that egoistic striving would be pointless. He therefore set himself to apply his method to the exclusion of everything else. Taking Shifu's teaching about self isolation very seriously he cut himself off from all concern with others. He showed a sort of ruthlessness with himself, discounting his physical pain. He resisted wandering thoughts and the temptation to allow reminiscences to flow through his head. The past was irrelevant, only the present counted. He saw that he had to penetrate beyond the aesthetics of beautiful experiences into their nature within his own mind. Finally he saw that his own mentality was a condition of limitation; it was universal and not personal mind that was flowing. In this identification he found truth.
I learnt many things during the retreat and these will doubtless find their way into later presentations to this journal. None the less when it came to my turn to speak on the last evening I felt I was a bit too enthusiastic about the material success of the event. In spite of being a trained public speaker I always find a terrifying shyness overcomes me at such times. I feel I can never assess such a rich experience so close to it - but then it is not really assessment that is being requested.
I was glad Philip was able to pass on his puppies and that no dogs had to die because of us. In London I was blessed by the company of Shifu, Guo Yen Hse and my old friend Yiu Yan Nang as we visited the British Museum and British Library to see the ancient paintings and manuscripts from Tung Huang in a private viewing. It was a privilege to look at them in such company.
At Bristol Parkway we nearly missed our train. A porter held a door open in time but we almost lost some luggage. It was still sitting on the platform. Remembering the consequent rush I had later asked Shifu how he had felt. He said he had looked at the luggage and, feeling the train move, had said to himself "Ah, there it goes!"
