Fifty-two stages of Buddhism

The story is about a man who drank too much, and he began to see these snakes, so he had to go into hospital. He was taken off alcohol entirely and brought around, and he ceased seeing the wriggling things. He went back to playing golf with his friends, and on one hole, which was near a wood, he was standing on the green, holding the pin, and a grass snake came out of the wood, went across the green and then went back into the wood again. He turned deathly pale, and then he said, “I know you all think I saw a snake there, but I didn’t.”

These kinds of negations, too, they’re imitative. There’s no truth in them, but it’s quite easy to say the things we feel we’re expected to say. Then there are people who think, “No, I don’t want forms. I want to go directly to it.” A man went to a Zen teacher and he said, “I don’t want these trains that stop at every station. I want an express train that goes straight through.”

Fifty-two stages of Buddhism, fifty-two stations. One of the first is humility, to practise humility. So the teacher said, “Well, it has got one advantage, hasn’t it, when the train stops at the stations? You can read the name of the station. You do at least know you’re on the right train. You might otherwise be on an express leading towards, perhaps, egoism or something like that. You want the express to liberation.” The man, shaking violently, said, “No, I don’t want these states. I want to go directly there!” The teacher said, “You’re in a terrible state, aren’t you?”

The teacher said to him, “Look, you don’t have to get out at the stations. You don’t have to practise humility. You only have to look at the facts for humility. If you just look at the facts, you’ll become [aware]. You can only maintain a superiority by restricting your gaze to a tiny little area. If you look [at facts] generally, you’ll find you’re nothing at all, however great your achievement might be in your tiny little area.”

One of the judo sayings is this: “When you become a big frog, take up something else, as well, where you’ll be a tiny little tadpole, where you’ll be an absolute fool. Then that will prevent you from getting so big that you blow up.” We have to realise the facts, clear-sightedness.

Then the teacher said then, “You’ll pass through humility in those other states. The man on the express train, it’s not that he doesn’t pass through those states, but he’s so keen on his goal that he doesn’t notice them – but he passes through them just the same.” He said, “If you practise clear vision, these virtues will spring up in you automatically.”

We’re asked to do things. The Rōshi said, “jujitsu has got a special meaning in judo – it means ‘fully’ or ‘completely’.” A lot of us can speak a tremendous lot – chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter – so that we’re almost identified with speech. If we’re not talking, we feel we don’t exist. When the time comes, somebody brings a man, says, “Here’s a man who’s going to commit suicide. Now say something.” They can’t say anything then, just say, “Don’t do anything you might regret later.”

Similarly, people can keep silent. They can be very silent, but inside they’re absolutely boiling, seething. The speech must be real speech, and silence must be real silence. We must have both hands: to be able to speak when it’s time to speak, and to be able to shut up for weeks or months together when it’s time to shut up.

Now about the forms, and talking about judo now, you may find an application to your own training. There are the forms in judo, but, as we make progress, we begin to specialise in the particular techniques. We can, if we’re assiduous enough, we can become master. We modify them. We become expert in them. Then, before a contest, we try to find out: “What’s the opponent’s expertise, so I can avoid it, and maybe counter it?” My experience is that he’s nearly always a man with a very common name, like Nakamura. You say to your friends, “That chap Nakamura, he’s from Osaka. Do you know anything about him?” One of them says, “Yes, he’s an absolute terror on the ground. Keep off the ground. That’s all. He’s no good standing up.” Somebody else says, “It’s not that Nakamura. No, no, no. No.”

In the end, you give up the attempt and you’re just like, “Whatever it is, I’ll face it,”. But the weak point – yes, I’m very tall – is the shoulder throw – and I’m thrown straight over. The opponent sinks down here and pulls me over. That seems obvious, but, as a matter of fact, it was quite risky to attack me with the shoulder throw, because I’ve been thrown by so many thousands and thousands of times that I’ve got very good at countering.

So, the apparently weak point isn’t necessarily the weak point, and it becomes endless. You go deeper and deeper into the forms and the techniques, and you work it out, but still you’re caught.

Titles in this series are:

Part 1: Collected Stories

Part 2: Egoism or Pride

Part 3: Christianity was put down in Japan

Part 4: Fifty-two stages of Buddhism

Part 5: You are caught in technique

Part 6: I have nothing

Part 7: Advance in emptiness