ACTivity/ Empty Your Cup

Photo by Jay Huang on Unsplash.

 

Manila, 22 December 2021 — What will you let go of?

“Before I can teach you, you'll have to empty your cup." — Longtan Chongxin

Story

It happened 1200 years ago in Hunan, China. Deshan Xuanjian, a young scholar-monk, paid a visit to Longtan Chongxin, a renowned master of the Buddhist Chan tradition. The moment was pregnant with possibility. It was the dedicated masters like Longtan who allowed the teaching to continue spreading. Over the next centuries, Chan would become known as Zen in Japan, Thiền in Vietnam, and Seon in Korea. And then, finally, in the 20th century, Zen masters from Japan would take it to California, from where it has since spread around the world. Now, let’s get back to that meeting of two men in China.

While we are not sure where in Hunan the encounter between the master and the scholar took place, we do know that their meeting was historically important because Master Longtan began transmitting Dharma (truth) insights to Deshan, who not only embraced the teachings but grew to become a Chan master in his own right. By doing so, he continued the lineage of Longtan and the masters before him and he facilitated the further spread of Chan. His meeting with Master Longtan had major implications.

Very possibly, they met in a secluded hermitage on the top of a mountain, perhaps one that was shrouded in clouds and mist, like we see in Chinese paintings and can still enjoy today when we hike there. Why on a mountain top? Because, like in today’s world, teachers who brought innovative ways of thinking and practice often had to contend with opposition from temporal and religious rulers who could grant and withdraw their favor at any time. Mountain hermitages offered not only inspiration from nature but also a safe haven of retreat. It’s where scholars and students would travel to meet famous masters. To get there, they often needed to walk and climb for days. Can you visualize it?

Challenge

So what happened when the two met? Well, what we know is that the conversation was about a fundamental insight, and that it was conveyed by Master Longtan in an embodied manner, using his hands before using his voice. The teaching was short and deep. From my experience working in China, Korea, and Japan, I learned that it is considered desirable there to convey important insights as succinctly as possible. You may have seen this in the art of haiku poetry. For an international analogy, think of the short slogans and mottos you find in advertising. One or a few sentences that carry meaning that you will remember.

As the master and scholar sat down at a table, it was Master Longtan who poured his guest a cup of tea. On a cool mountain top, it must have been a pleasure to savor a warm and fragrant cup of tea when you were looking forward to an important conversation. What happened, however, was that as the cup was filled, Master Longtan kept pouring more tea until it overflowed. Watching the tea spill from the cup and run over the table and perhaps onto his notes and his robe, Deshan exclaimed “Stop! The cup is full.”

To which Master Longtan replied “Exactly.” And then added crisply, "You are like this cup. You are full of ideas. You come and ask for teaching, but your cup is full. I can't put anything in. Before I can teach you, you'll have to empty your cup." 

Question

In giving this first teaching to Deshan, Master Longtan was echoing what Laozi, a Daoist sage, had written in Step 11 of the Dao De Jing 1200 years prior to that conversation. “When shaping clay into a vessel, it is the empty space within that makes it useful,” wrote Laozi. When Deshan came to Master Longtan, his mind was already filled to the brim with knowledge and expectations. In our time, I often observed that’s what we feel like when we come to the end of the year. We can’t really absorb any more, and good ideas and training proposals are best put off to the new year. It’s a time when adding more insights would simply go to waste.

The first time I received the insight to empty your cup was when I read Zen Mind, Beginners Mind by Shunryu Suzuki, a Zen teacher who brought the teaching to California in the 1960s. Here is how Suzuki sensei described it, “If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything, it is open to everything. In the beginner's mind, there are many possibilities, but in the expert's mind there are few.” I quickly understood that this beginner’s mind is not only valuable at the year’s end but every day of the year, and even during the day, for example before you start your next meeting or activity.

This week, therefore, my question to you is what you will let go of as you empty your cup? The end of the year is well suited to letting go of thoughts, concerns, and fears that will no longer serve you if you carry them into the new year. To start off, please write me about one thing that you will let go of as you empty your cup. By doing so, you will ensure that the empty space in your cup — a metaphor for your mind-body-spirit as a human being — can regain its full value and hold the wonder of love, gratitude, and celebration as you move forward to tomorrow and the new year.