Journey to the West

Excerpt from Journey to the West, Blackmask online, http://www.blackmask.com. Adapted from WJF Jenner translation.

Part Three

He becomes aware of the wonderful truth of enlightenment;
By getting rid of the cognitive mind-will he unearths his congenital nature.

The story goes on to tell how after being given a name the Handsome Monkey King jumped for joy and bowed to Subhuti to express his thanks.  The Patriarch then ordered the others to take Sun Wukong out through the double doors and teach him how to sprinkle and sweep the floor, answer orders, and deport himself properly.  All the immortals went out in obedience to this command.  When Sun Wukong was outside the doors he bowed to all his fellow elder brothers and laid out his bed on the verandah.  The next morning and every following day he studied language and deportment under his fellow elder brothers, expounded the scriptures, discussed the Dao, practiced calligraphy, and burnt incense.  When he had any spare time he would sweep the grounds, dig the vegetable patch, grow flowers, tend trees, look for kindling, light the fire, carry water, and fetch soy. Everything he needed was provided. Thus six or seven years slipped by in the cave without his noticing them. One day the Patriarch took his seat on the dais, called all the Immortals together, and began to explain what is Dao.

Heavenly flowers fell in profusion,
While golden lotuses burst forth from the earth.
Brilliantly he expounded the doctrine of the Three Vehicles,
Setting forth ten thousand Dharmas in all their details.
As he slowly waved his whisk, jewels fell from his mouth,

Echoing like thunder and shaking the Nine Heavens.
Now preaching the Tao,
Now teaching meditation,
He showed that the Three Beliefs are basically the same.
In explaining a single word he brought one back to the truth,
And taught the secrets of avoiding birth and understanding one’s congenital nature.

As Monkey sat at the side listening to the exposition he was so delighted that he tugged at his ear, scratched his cheek and smiled. He could not help waving his hands and stamping. When the Patriarch noticed this he said to Monkey, “Why are you leaping around like a madman in class instead of listening to the lesson?”  “Your disciple is listening to the exposition with all his attention,” Monkey replied, “but your marvelous words made me so happy that I started jumping around without realizing what I was doing. Please forgive me.” To this the Patriarch replied, “If you really understand my marvelous words, then answer this question.  How long have you been in my cave?”  “You disciple was born stupid,” Monkey replied, “so I’ve no idea how long I’ve been here.  All I know is that whenever the fire in the stove goes out I go to the other side of the mountain to collect firewood and there I see a hill covered with fine peach trees.  I’ve had seven good feeds of peaches there.” “That hill is called Tender Peach Hill. If you have eaten there seven times you must have been here seven years.  What sort of Tao do you want to learn from me?” “That depends what you teach me, master. As long is there’s a whiff of Tao to it, your disciple will learn it.”

“There are three hundred and sixty side-entrances to the Tao, and they all lead to their respective result,” the Patriarch said. “Which branch would you like to study?” “I will do whatever you think best, master,” replied Monkey. “What about teaching you the Magic Arts?” “What does ‘the Magic Arts’ mean?”  “Magic arts,” the Patriarch replied, “include summoning Immortals, using the magic sandboard, and divining by milfoil. With them one can learn how to bring on good fortune and avert disaster.”  “Can you become immortal this way?”  asked Monkey.  “No, certainly not,” replied the Patriarch. “No.  Shan’t learn it.”

“Shall I teach you the Way of Sects?” the Patriarch asked. “What are the principles of the Sects?” said Monkey. “Within the branch of Sects, there is Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, the study of the Negative and Positive, Mohism, medicine, reading scriptures and chanting the name of a Buddha. You can also summon Immortals and Sages with this branch.” “Can you attain immortality that way?” asked Monkey. “To try and attain immortality that way,” the Patriarch replied, “is like ‘putting a pillar in the wall’.”  “Master,” Monkey said, “I’m a simple chap and I can’t understand your technical jargon. What do you mean by ‘putting a pillar in the wall’?” “When a man builds a house and wants to make it strong he puts a pillar in the wall. But when the day comes for his mansion to collapse the pillar is bound to rot.” “From what you say, Monkey observed, “it’s not eternal. No. Shan’t learn it.”

“Shall I teach you the Way of Silence?” the Patriarch then asked.  “What True Result can he got from Silence?” said Monkey,  “It involves abstaining from grain, preserving one’s essence, silence, inaction, meditation, abstaining from speech, eating vegetarian food, performing certain exercises when asleep or standing up, going into trances, and being walled up in total isolation.”  “Is this a way of becoming immortal?”  Monkey asked. “It’s like building the top of a kiln with sun-dried bricks,” the Patriarch replied. “You do go on, master,” said Sun Wukong. “I’ve already told you that I can’t understand your technical jargon.  What does ‘building the top of a kiln with sun-dried bricks’ mean?” “If you build the top of a kiln with sun-dried bricks they may make it look all right, but if they have not been hardened with fire and water, then they will crumble away in the first heavy rainstorm.” “There’s nothing eternal about that either, then,” replied Monkey. “No. Shan’t learn that.”

“Shall I teach you the Way of Action then?” the Patriarch asked. “What’s that like?” Monkey asked.  “It involves actions and doing, extracting the Negative and building up the Positive, drawing the bow and loading the crossbow, rubbing the navel to make the subtle humors flow, refining elixirs according to formulae, lighting fires under cauldrons, consuming ‘Red lead’, purifying ‘Autumn Stone’, and drinking women’s milk.”  “Can doing things like that make me live for ever?” Monkey asked. “To try and attain immortality that way is like ‘lifting the moon out of water’.” “What does ‘lifting the moon out of water’ mean?” “The moon is in the sky,” the Patriarch replied, “and only its reflection is in the water. Although you can see it there, you will try in vain to lift it out.” “No. Shan’t learn that,” Monkey exclaimed.

When the Patriarch heard this he gasped and climbed down from his dais. Pointing at Sun Wukong with his cane he said, “You won’t study this and you won’t study that, so what do you want, you monkey?” He went up to Monkey and hit him three times on the head, then went inside with his hands behind his back and shut the main door, abandoning them all.  The class was shocked, and they all blamed Sun Wukong.  “You cheeky ape, you’ve no idea how to behave.  The master was teaching you the Tao, so why did you have to argue with him instead of learning from him? Now you’ve offended him we don’t know when he’ll come out again.”  They were all very angry with him and regarded him with loathing and contempt. But Sun Wukong was not bothered in the least, and his face was covered with smiles. The Monkey King had understood the riddle, and had the answer hidden away in his mind. So he did not argue with the others but bore it all without a word. When the Patriarch hit him three times he had been telling him to pay attention at the third watch; and when he went inside with his hands behind his back and shut the main door he had told the Monkey King to go in through the back door and be taught the Tao in secret.

The delighted Sun Wukong spent the rest of that day with the others in front of the Three Stars Gave, looking at the sky and impatient for night to come. At dusk he went to bed like all the others, pretended to close his eyes, controlled his breathing, and calmed himself down.  Nobody beats the watches or calls out the hour in the mountains, so he had no way of knowing the time except by regulating the breath going in and out of his nose. When he reckoned that it was about the third watch he got up very quietly, dressed, and slipped out through the front door away from the others. When he was outside he looked up and saw

The moon was bright and clear and cold,
The vast space of the eight points was free from dust.
Deep in the trees a bird slept hidden,
While the water flowed from the spring.

Fireflies scattered their lights
And a line of geese was stretched across the clouds.
It was exactly the third watch,
The right time to ask about the Tao.

Watch the Monkey King as he follows the old path to the back door, which he found to be ajar. “The Patriarch has left the door open, so he really intends to teach me the Tao,” he exclaimed in delight.  He tiptoed forward, went in sideways through the door, and walked over to the Patriarch’s bed, where he saw the Patriarch sleeping curled up, facing the inside of the room. Not daring to disturb him, Sun Wukong knelt in front of the bed. Before long the Patriarch woke up, stretched out both his legs, and mumbled to himself:

“It’s hard, hard, hard. The Tao is very obscure,
Don’t make light of the golden elixir and regard it as something common.
To learn miraculous spells from any but the Perfect Man,
Is to tire the voice and dry the tongue in vain.”

Sun Wukong said in reply, “Master, your disciple has been kneeling here for a long time.” When the Patriarch heard that it was Sun Wukong who was speaking he pulled some clothes on, sat up cross-legged, and shouted, ‘it’s that monkey. Why have you come into my room instead of sleeping out in front?” “Master, you told me publicly in front of the altar yesterday that your disciple was to come in here through the back gate at the third watch as you were going to teach me the Tay. That is why made so bold as to come to pay my respects beside my master’s bed.”  The Patriarch was very pleased to hear this and said to himself, “This wretch was indeed born of Heaven and Earth. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to understand my cryptic message. Sun Wukong said, “There is no third pair of ears in this room your disciple is the only other person here. I hope, master, that in your great mercy you will teach me the Tao of Immortality.  If you do, I’ll always be grateful to you. “You are predestined,” the Patriarch said, “so I shall be happy to tell you. Since you understood my cryptic message, come over here and listen carefully while I teach you the miraculous Tao of Immortality.” Sun Wukong kowtowed with gratitude and knelt before the bed, listening with all his attention. The Patriarch said:

“True spells, revealing secrets and all powerful,
Are the only sure way of protecting one’s life force and congenital nature.
They all come from fertilizing fluid, vita-vapor, and congenital mind-will,
Must be stored away securely, and never be divulged.
Must never be divulged, and be stored in the body.
Then the Tao I teach you will flourish of itself.
Many are the benefits of learning spells:
They give protection from evil desires and make one pure.

Make one pure with a dazzling radiance
Like a bright moon shining on a cinnabar tower,
The moon contains a Jade Rabbit, the sun a Golden Crow,
The Tortoise and the Snake are always intertwined.

Always intertwined, then life is firm,
And one can plant golden lotuses in fire.
Grasp all the Five Elements and turn them upside down,
And when you are successful you can become a Buddha, or an Immortal.”

The Patriarch’s explanation went to the root of things, and Sun Wukong’s heart was filled with bliss as he committed the spells to memory. He bowed to the Patriarch to express his deep gratitude and went out of the back door to look. He saw that there was a trace of white in the east, while the golden light of the moon was shining in the west. He went to the front door by the old path, pushed it open gently, and went in. He saw down where he had been sleeping earlier, shook his bedding and said loudly. “It’s dawn, it’s dawn. Get up.” The others were all asleep, unaware of Sun Wukong’s good fortune. At daybreak he got up and muddled through the day, while secretly keeping to what he had been told. In the afternoon and evening he regulated his breathing.

After three years had passed in this way the Patriarch once more sat on his lecturing throne and expounded the Dharma to the students.  He recounted famous sayings and parables, and discussed external phenomena and external appearances. Without warning he asked, “Where is Sun Wukong?” Sun Wukong went forward, knelt down and replied, “Your disciple is present.  What Tao have you cultivated since Corning here?” “Your disciple is now fairly well conversant with the Dharma,” Sun Wukong replied, “and my Source is getting gradually stronger.” “If you are conversant with the Dharma and you know about the Source,” the Patriarch replied, “and if the spirit has already flowed into you, then you must beware of the ‘Three Disasters’.” Sun Wukong thought for a long time, then he said, “Patriarch, I have often heard that the Tao is lofty and its power mighty, that it is as eternal as Heaven, that it can overcome fire and water, and prevent all illnesses from arising, so how could there be ‘Three Disasters’?” To this the Patriarch replied, “This is not the ordinary Tao: it involves seizing the very creation of Heaven and Earth, and encroaching on the hidden workings of the sun and moon. Once the elixir is made, devils and spirits cannot tolerate it. Although it will preserve the youthfulness of your face and prolong your life, in five hundred years’ time Heaven will strike you with a thunderbolt. You must be clear-sighted in nature and mind, so that you can hide from it before it comes. If you succeed in avoiding it you will live as long as Heaven; and if you don’t, it will kill you. Another five hundred years later Heaven will burn you with fire. This fire will be not heavenly fire or ordinary fire but ‘hidden fire’. It will burn you from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head; your five viscera will be reduced to ashes, your four limbs will be destroyed, and a thousand years of asceticism will have been so much wasted time. Yet another five hundred years later a wind will blow at you. It will not be the north, south, east, or west wind, nor will it be a warm, fragrant wind from the northwest; nor will it be the kind of wind that blows among flowers, willows, pine, and bamboo. It will be what is called a ‘monster wind’. It will blow through the crown of your head down into your six entrails. It will go through the Cinnabar Field below your navel and penetrate your nine orifices. Your flesh and your bones will be destroyed and your body will disintegrate. So you must avoid all three of these disasters.”

When he heard this Sun Wukong’s hair stood on end, and he kowtowed with the words, “I implore you, my lord, to show pity and teach me how to avoid these three disasters. If you do I will be grateful to you for ever,” “That would be easy, the Patriarch replied, “but for the fact that you are different from other people—which means that I can’t.” “I have a head that faces the sky and feet standing on earth,” said Sun Wukong. “I have nine orifices and four limbs, five viscera and six entrails. How am I different from anyone else?” “Although you are quite like other people, your cheeks are too small.” Now that monkey had a funny face, with cheeks that caved inwards and a sharp chin. Sun Wukong felt it with his hand and replied with a laugh, “Master, you didn’t take everything into account. Although I’m a bit short of jaw, I’ve got more dewlap than other people to make up for it.” “Very well then,” the Patriarch said, “which would you prefer to learn:  the thirty six heavenly transformations or the seventy-two earthly ones? “Your disciple wants to get as much out of it as he can, so I would like to learn the seventy-two earthly ones.”  “If that’s what you want,” the Patriarch replied, “come here and I’ll teach you the spells.” Thereupon he whispered into. Sun Wukong’s ear, and who knows what miraculous spells he taught him? The Monkey King was the sort of person who understands everything once he is told a tiny part, and he learnt the spells on the spot. He practised and trained until he had mastered all seventy-two transformations.

One day the Patriarch and all his disciples were enjoying the sunset outside the Three Stars Cave. The Patriarch asked Sun Wukong, “Have you succeeded yet?” Sun Wukon8 replied, “Thanks to your infinite mercy, master, your disciple’s results have been perfect, and I can now rise on the clouds and fly,”  “Let me see you try a flight,” the Patriarch said. Sun Wukong used his skill to perform a series of somersaults that carried him fifty or sixty feet into the air, then walked around on the clouds for about as long as it takes to eat a meal. He covered about a mile altogether before landing in front of the Patriarch, folding his arms across his chest, and saying, “Master, that’s flying and soaring in the clouds.” The Patriarch laughed. “That’s not soaring on the clouds—it’s just climbing up them. There is an old saying that an Immortal visits the Northern Sea in the morning and Cangwu in the evening’. But to take as long as you did just to go a mile doesn’t count as climbing on the clouds.” “How can it be possible to visit the Northern Sea in the morning and Cangwu in the evening?” Sun Wukong asked. “All cloud-soarers start off from the Northern Sea early in the morning, visit the Eastern, Western and Southern Seas, and then come hack to Cangwu. Cangwu is what the Northern Sea is called in the Lingling language. When you can go beyond all four seas in a single day you can regard yourself as a cloud-soarer.” “But that must be very difficult,” Sun Wukong observed. “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” the Patriarch replied. “Nothing by halves, master,” replied Sun Wukong with bows and kowtows, “I beg of you in your great mercy to teach me the art of cloud-soaring. I promise that I will always be grateful.” “immortals take off with a stamp of their feet,” said the Patriarch, “but you do it differently—just now I saw you pull yourself up. As that is the way you do it, I’ll show you how to do it your own way and teach you the somersault cloud’.” Sun Wukong bowed again, imploring him to do so, and the Patriarch taught him the spell. “For this kind of cloud,” the Patriarch said, “you make the magic by clasping your hands in the special way, recite the words of the spell, clench your fist, shake yourself, and lump. With one somersault you can go sixty thousand miles.” When the others heard this they all exclaimed with a laugh. “Lucky old Sun Wukong. With magic like this he could be a messenger delivering official letters and reports, and he’d never go short of a meal.” When it was dark the Patriarch and his pupils returned to the cave. That night Sun Wukong moved his congenital mind-will, practised the technique, and mastered the cloud somersault. From then on he was free from all restraint and he enjoyed the delights of immortality, drifting around as he pleased.

On a day when spring was giving way to summer, and all the students had been sitting under some pine trees listening to lectures for a long time, they said, “Sun Wukong, in what life did you earn your present destiny? The other day our teacher whispered to you how to do the transformations to avoid the Three Disasters. Can you do them all yet?”  “It’s true, brothers,” said Sun Wukong with a grin, “I can do them all. In the first place, it’s because our master taught me; and in the second place, it’s because I practised them hard day and night.” “This would be a good time for you to give us a demonstration.”  At this suggestion Sun Wukong braced his spirit to show off his skill. “What’s it to be, brothers? Tell me what you’d like me to turn myself into.” “Turn into a pine tree,” they all said. Sun Wukong clenched his fist, said the magic words, shook himself, and changed into a pine tree. It was truly

Green and misty throughout the four seasons,
Raising its upright beauty to the clouds.
Not in the least like a demon monkey,
Every inch a tree that withstands frost and snow.