A monk asked Seike, “Where does a monk go
when he dies and transmigrates?”
Seike said, “The Choko flows on and on, never stopping;
bubbles obey the vagaries of the wind.”
The monk asked further,
“Does he receive the ceremonial offerings?”
Seike said, “We can’t say there are no ceremonial offerings.”
“What exactly are these offerings?” asked the monk.
Seike said, “As the fisherman’s song pushes the oar,
his voice is heard in the valleys.”

Before Chu Kokushi died, emperor Shukusho asked him,
“When you are a hundred years old, what shall I do for you?”
Kokushi answered, “Make a seamless pagoda for this old monk.”
The emperor said, “I would like to ask you what style is it to be?”
Kokushi remained silent for a while,
and then he said, “Do you understand?”
“No, I do not,” said the emperor.
“I have a disciple called Tangen,” said Kokushi,
“who had the dharma seal transmitted by me.
He is well versed in this matter. Ask him, please.”
After Kokushi’s death, the emperor sent for Tangen
and asked him about it.
Tangen said, “South of Sho and north of Tan,
in between, gold abounds.
The ferryboat under the shadowless tree,
no holy one in the emerald palace you see.”

Maneesha, this evening and this silence, this great assembly of people who love is really the answer to the anecdote you have asked about. That’s what the emperor could not understand when he asked, “What kind, what style of pagoda, of temple do you want to be erected?”

The master remained silent. Except silence, what can represent a Buddha, a Basho, a Nan-Sen? Only silence!

I will read the anecdote. Listen as silently as possible because your silence is the answer that has been raised in the anecdote.

A monk asked Seike, “where does a monk go
when he dies and transmigrates?”

In the first place it is a stupid question because a man of enlightenment never dies, never transmigrates either. Transmigration is for the ignorant, from one form into another form, from one animalhood to another animalhood. But for the awakened, for the enlightened, there is no death and no transmigration. He simply defuses into the wholeness of the cosmos.

He does not leave even his steps and their marks behind him just like a snowflake disappearing or an echo in the mountains.

He simply drops his bondage and makes the whole sky his being. He is everywhere and he is nowhere in particular.

Seike said, “The Choko flows…”

Choko is the name of a river.

“The Choko flows on and on, never stopping;
bubbles obey the vagaries of the wind.”