The great Zen Master, Nansen, was getting very old and was waiting for his successor to arrive. In fact, he was ready to leave the body but was just hanging around for the successor to come so he could transfer whatsoever he had attained, so he could give the key.
Now he had many disciples, so it looks very strange; he had thousands of disciples. Why could he not give his key to one of these thousands of disciples? He had great scholars around him, very skillful, very logical, efficient, intellectual, but he had to wait. These people were able to understand logic but they were not able to understand love. And love speaks a totally different language. These people were capable of understanding mathematics but were absolutely incapable of understanding the language of metaphor. These people were perfectly able to understand prose but were not available to the mysteries of poetry, so he had to wait.
He was lying down on his bed in his chamber, sick, old, and hanging around the old body somehow, managing somehow. It was on that day that for the first time he saw his successor, Joshu, coming into the room. His very coming… not a single word had been uttered. Neither had the Master spoken nor the disciple, the future disciple. He was a stranger, but the way he entered the room was enough.
The Master asked him, ”Where have you come from?”
For days the Master had not spoken: he was so sick, so old. He was preserving his energy in every way, he was not even speaking. After many days, these were his first words – to Joshu, ”Where have you come from?”
Joshu said, ”From Zuizo Temple.” Zuizo means figure of bliss.
Nansen laughed – he had not laughed for many months – and asked, ”Have you seen the figure of bliss?”
Joshu said, ”The figure of bliss, I have not seen. A lying Buddha, I have seen.”
At this Nansen stood up – he had not been out of his bed for almost a year. At this Nansen stood up and asked, ”Do you have a Master already?”
Joshu answered, ”I have.”
Nansen asked, ”Who is your Master?” as if all sickness had disappeared, as if he were young again.
His voice was clear, youthful, vigorous, vital: ”Who is your Master?”
Joshu laughed and said, ”Although winter is past its peak it is still very cold. May I suggest, my Master, that you take good care of your body?” And that was that. And Nansen said, ”Now I can die peacefully. A man has arrived who can understand my language.
A man has arrived who can meet not on the surface but in the depth.” Joshu said, ”My Master, take good care of your body.” Just saying that, the initiation had happened.
And the way Joshu said, ”Although winter is past its peak, it is still very cold,” he knew how to speak in metaphors. He knew the way of poetry. And he knows the way of love. That’s why he said, ”May I suggest, my Master, that you take good care of your body. Please lie down. You need not jump out of your bed. You are my Master! I have not seen bliss yet, but I have seen a Buddha.”
