There is a story that essentially goes this way:
As a young monk, Linji was trained by the Chan master Huangbo Xiyun (Huángbò Xīyùn; 黃蘗希運; Huang-Po Hsi-Yun). During his first three years at the temple, Linji was unnoticed by the master as he worked in the fields and the kitchen, meditated, and served the older monks. The head monk, Mu Chou, was impressed by Linji’s kindness and sincerity and wanted to bring him to the attention of the Master. Linji was so humble and sincere that he never asked questions or did anything to attract notice. The head monk advised Linji to go have an interview with the master directly. Linji said, “But I don’t know what I should say or ask him.” The head monk said, “You should ask him ‘Why did Bodhidharma come from the West?’”
Linji went to the one-on-one interview and asked the question. Huang-Po picked up his Zen stick and whacked Linji hard. Linji ran from the room. He sought out Mu Chou, the head monk, asking what he had done wrong. Mu Chou said, “You should go ask him again.”
Linji went again, bowing low out of respect for the Master, and asked again, “Why did Bodhidharma come from the West.” Huang-Po again struck him hard, sending Linji out crying.
Linji went to the head monk and said, “I did exactly what you said. I was respectful and asked him just like you said and he hit me again! What the hell?!” Mu Chou nodded thoughtfully and said, “You should go ask him a third time.”
Linji went for a third interview and once again ran from the room in pain. He said, “That’s it! This place sucks – I’m leaving.” LInji packed up and left to find another temple. He ended up at Dàyú’s (大愚) monastery. Dayu asked to meet the new arrival, and when they met, Dayu asked, “Why did you leave your previous temple to come here?” Linji told him the story – after years of study and work, he finally asked the Master for instruction, but the Master just hit him! Three times!
Dayu looked at Linji. “What a kind old grandmother he was to you!”
---
When I first heard this story many years ago, I did not understand it in the least. I understand it now. Wonji was such a kind old grandmother to me from the first day I met him in 2015.
I had been studying Buddhism for decades, and it had brought many benefits, but no one had really been able to show it to me directly. Wonji was bombastic. He was iconoclastic. He was insulting to me. I’ve never been sworn at so much in my life by anyone (not even my ex-wife!). He was exactly what I needed.
In the six years I met with him weekly, we shared a loving friendship punctuated by him whacking me every time I needed it. In fact, there was only once where I felt he missed the mark. All other times, even if I couldn’t see it clearly at the time of the whacking, I saw how it was helpful shortly after. None of his outbursts were to make him feel better. They were always for my benefit. I will miss this, and do not know how I will ever find another teacher with such keen vision and clear understanding of me.
He missed our last scheduled meeting, which he never had previously. When I checked in again the next day to see how he was, his response was simply “All is good.” I have been puzzling over this response, given that in retrospect, it seems that it wasn’t.
I once asked him why ZM Seung Sahn retreated from everyone for several days when one of his friends died, when he could have shared his grief with others at the center. Wonji said, “Because he knew he was always teaching.”
I don’t know that Wonji felt he was always teaching, as many of our interactions were very personal or mundane. But I think the manner in which he died was a teaching. It feels personal to me. It also feels like a direct teaching from our tradition. The Buddha had many painful situations during his life. His cousin tried to murder him on three recorded occasions. He apparently died of food poisoning, a very painful death. Yet, details of how he handled many of these situations have come down to us. The Saklika Sutta, for example, says, “Excruciating were the bodily feelings that developed within him — painful, fierce, sharp, wracking, repellent, disagreeable — but he endured them mindful, alert, & unperturbed.”
The Buddha endured excruciating feelings mindful, alert, and unperturbed. Ven. Mazu said, “Sun-faced Buddha, Moon-faced Buddha.” Ven. Wonji said, “It’s all good.”
These teachings can be misunderstood as a form of spiritual bypassing, of using sunyata as an excuse to try to not care. This is never what Wonji meant. It’s a profound and multi-layered (yet simple) teaching, especially in light of the excruciating pain that he was in for the last couple weeks of his life.
May we all awaken to our lives already in progress and serve all beings, as our Great Teacher did.
---
Ven. Minshim and I are planning to gather stories about Ven. Wonji and publish them as a book for the year anniversary of his death this December. Please contact me cheolsoengprajna (at) gmail.com if you would like to contribute.