Did You Know That You Were Supposed To Seek, Tame, Ride and Lose The Ox?

In the 12th century, Ch'an painted ten pictures illustrating the search for an Ox, an allegory for the search of our true nature. The practice which precipitates the freeing of oneself from their base desires has been understood as occurring in a series of stages. The Ox-herding pictures are a beautifully poetic illustration of the stages. In Reality, we have the Ox, but we must turn inward to see it, to tame and calm it, so that we may then rest with ourselves, turn inward and be free from the wild inattentiveness of the Ox within.


Seeking the Ox

In the pasture of this world,
I endlessly push aside the tall
grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost
upon the interpenetrating paths
of distant mountains ...
My strength failing and my vitality
exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirring
through the forest at night.

Finding the Tracks

Discovering the Footprints
Along the riverbank under the trees ...
I discover footprints!
Even under the fragrant grass I see
his prints.
Deep in remote mountains they are found.
These traces no more can be hidden
than one's nose, looking heavenward.

First Glimpse of the Ox

I hear the song of the nightingale.
The sun is warm, the wind is mild,
willows are green along the shore.
Here no bull can hide!
What artist can draw that massive
head, those majestic horns?

Catching the Ox

I seize him with a terrific
struggle. His great will and
power are inexhaustable.
He charges to the high plateau
far above the cloud-mists ...
Or in an impenetrable ravine
he stands.

Taming the Ox

The whip and rope are necessary.
Else he might stray off down
some dusty road.
Being well trained, he becomes
naturally gentle.
Then unfettered he obeys his master.

Riding the Ox Home

Mounting the bull ...
slowly I return homeward.
The voice of my flute intones
throughout the evening.
Measuring with hand-beats the
pulsating harmony ...
I direct the endless rhythm.
Whoever hears this melody will
join me.

Ox Forgotten, Self Alone

Astride the bull, I reach home.
I am serene. The bull too can rest.
The dawn has come. In blissful repose,
Within my thatched dwelling I have
abandoned the whip and rope.

Both Ox and Self Forgotten

Whip, rope, person, and bull ...
all merge in No-Thing.
This heaven is so vast no message
can stain it.
How may a snowflake exist in a
raging fire?
Here are the footprints of the
patriarchs.

Return to the Source

Too many steps have been taken
returning to the root and the source.
Better to have been blind and deaf
from the beginning!
Dwelling in one's true abode,
unconcerned with that without ...
The river flows tranquilly on
and the flowers are reIn the World.

Entering the Marketplace with Open Hands

Barefooted and naked of breast ...
I mingle with the people of the world.
My clothes are ragged and dust-laden,
and I am ever blissful.
I use no magic to extend my life;
Now, before me ...
the dead trees become alive.