Proverb 2: Hearing a hundred times...

Here is today's proverb:

百聞は一見に如かず

And in romaji:

hyakubun wa ikken ni shikazu

And English: "Hearing a hundred times is not as good as seeing once."

This is like the English saying, "Seeing is believing," and it's also a bit like "A picture is worth a thousand words," although that's more about pictures and written words, rather than seeing the thing itself versus hearing with your ears about it. I would relate this in my practice not so much to the contrast between hearing and seeing but instead to the contrast between reading-about and experiencing. I am definitely one of those people who spends more time reading about Buddhism rather than practicing. I'm book-addicted, and writing these blog posts I suppose is proof of that. Ha!

Looking for an image, I found this at a blog for French-speaking learners of Japanese, with French parallels that are like the English parallels I cited here! From haiku, I'm used to "mi" as the pronunciation of this kanji 見, so it was good to learn "ken" today.

My vocabulary for today:

見
けん
"see"

Parable 2: Kisagotami and the Mustard Seed

Kisagotami's child had died, but she refused to believe he was dead.

"What medicine can wake my child from his sleep?" she asked the Buddha.

"You need mustard seed," replied the Buddha, "but it must come from a house in which nobody ever died, a home where nobody ever lost a loved one."

Kisagotami went from door to door, the answer always the same. Every house was a house of grief.

She buried her child and returned to the Buddha to thank him for his teaching.

"That is the medicine," he said. "Mustard seed is everywhere, and so is suffering."

~ ~ ~

You can find the story told in beautiful detail here: Kisa Gotami and the Mustard Seed. This is an ancient Buddhist story, and a very famous one; it even has its own Wikipedia article: Kisa Gotami.

You might know the story from Nick Cave's song "Hollywood" which ends with these lyrics:

Kisa had a baby, but the baby died

Goes to the villages, says my baby's sick

Villagers shake their heads and say to her

Better bury your baby in the forest quick

It's a long way to find peace of mind, peace of mind

It's a long way to find peace of mind, peace of mind

Kisa went to the mountain and ask the Buddha

My baby's sick, Buddha said don't cry

Go to each house and collect a mustard seed

But only from a house where no one's died

Kisa went to each house in the village

My baby's getting sicker, poor Kisa cried

But Kisa never collected one mustard seed

Because every house, someone had died

Kisa sat down in the old village square

She hugged her baby and cried and cried

She said everybody is always losing somebody

Then walked into the forest and buried her child

Everybody's losing someone

Everybody's losing someone

It's a long way to find peace of mind, peace of mind

It's a long way to find peace of mind, peace of mind

And I'm just waiting now, for my time to come

And I'm just waiting now, for peace to come, for peace to come

(Kisa's story begins around 9:53)

Haiku 1: Get me that moon...

Here is today's haiku:

あの月をとってくれろと泣子哉

And in romaji:

ano tsuki wo totte kurero to naku ko kana

And English: 'Get me that moon, please!' the child sobs, kana.

This is a poem by Issa, and I think it is a lovely poem about grasping. Only a foolish child would think that you can grab the moon and give it to somebody... but we are all foolish children that way, grasping at things that are impermanent. And the moon, of course, is a great example of impermanence; thanks to the motion of the planet, we see the moon coming and going, never the same two nights in a row. And of course this in turn is our delusion: it is the same moon, even if we see a different moon each night; perhaps the あの is hinting at that idea — the crying child wants that moon, as if there were more than one moon in the sky: a full moon, half moon, crescent and so on.

I've also seen this haiku in a different version with 名月を for the first line, meigetsu, "bright moon / harvest moon" instead of あの月を, "that moon." This gives the haiku a better season word, but I still link the idea of "that moon" even better.

And I've decided just to start using kana in my haiku translations: why not? It's impossible to translate, and I don't want to just leave it out.

art by Hiroaki Takahashi

My vocabulary for today:

月
つき
"moon"

Parable 1: The Two Arrows

Here is one way to tell the story:

You're walking in a forest: you feel the sunshine and the cool breeze, the birds are singing. Then, out of nowhere: ZING! An arrow plunges into your flesh! It hurts! It really hurts. 

And then again: ZING! A second arrow hits you. It hurts even worse.

Where did that first arrow come from? You don't know.

But that second arrow... you shot the second arrow. 

That's you reacting to the first arrow: your fear, your suffering, your anguish.

The pain of the first arrow is life. You can't avoid that pain.

But you don't have to shoot that second arrow.

Here is another way to tell the story:

The Buddha asks his student: "If you are hit by an arrow, does it hurt?"
The student answers, "Yes, of course it hurts."

"And if a second arrow strikes you, does that arrow hurt?"
"Yes, two arrows hurt more than just one arrow."
Then the Buddha smiles. "The first arrow hurts, and the pain you feel is only natural: you are suffering. But the second arrow is your reaction to the first arrow: it is your confusion, your fear, your anger. You do not have to shoot that second arrow. Isn't one arrow enough?"

The student smiled. "Now I understand."

~ ~ ~

This is one of my favorite Buddhist parables. When I think about liberation, I think about liberation from the second arrow. If you Google, you will find thousands of retellings of this parable online, and that's just in English. For example, you can find this parable and commentary in No Mud, No Lotus by Thich Nhat Hanh.

The parable is part of the Pali canon of Buddhism; you can read a translation of that sutra here: Sallatha Sutta: The Arrow translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

the logo of Two Arrows Zen

Proverb 1: At morning, daimoku...

I'll be sharing the proverbs here that I am using as I learn Japanese, which is prompted by my passion for haiku, and my favorite haiku are those very much in the spirit of Zen. Of course, not all haiku are Zen, and the same with proverbs... although as a wisdom genre, I think the proverbs are all potentially Zen-adjacent. Today's proverb, however, is situated very much within the realm of Japanese Buddhism, and poking fun at it... and I consider poking-fun to be a Zen thing too. So, here is today's proverb:

朝題目に宵念仏

Here it is just in hiragana:

あさ  だいもく  に  よい  ねんぶつ

And in romaji:

asa daimoku ni yoi nenbutsu

Literally, "At morning, daimoku; at night, nenbutsu."

The meaning depends upon the contrast between these two different Buddhist prayer practices: the daimoku is associated with Nichiren Buddhism and the chant "Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō," while the nenbutsu is the homage to the Amitabha Buddha associated with Jodoshu (Pure Land) Buddhism and also with Zen. I have seen quite a few references in haiku to the nenbutsu, and I knew about the diamoku from... Tina Turner. 

But this saying is really satirical, not devotional: it applies to someone who is playing "both sides" as it were, without any particular loyalty or steadfast principles of any kind!

Nenbutsu gathering in Kyoto

My vocabulary for today:

朝
あさ
"morning / afternoon"