Empty Cloud, the Autobiography of Xu Yun is an interesting story. He was born August 26 (some say April 26), 1840, at Chuanchowfu in Fukien Province, China. His Father was an official of the prefecture. His mother died immediately after giving birth to him. His uncle was childless and adopted him as his heir. At the age of eleven his uncle took him on pilgrimage to Nanyo. He became so attached to the holy place that he was reluctant to return home. He began to read the sutures and by the time he reached 14, he wanted to renounce the world. In order to keep him at home his father and uncle engaged a Taoist to teach him meditation. After practicing for three years, he decided that its teachings failed to reach the ultimate goal. At age seventeen he fled to Nanyo but was soon found and brought home. His grandmother decided he needed two wives to perpetuate the lineage of his father and his uncle. He lived with his two wives, but neither marriage was consummated. Instead he taught the wives the Dharma. At 19, together with his cousin, he fled to Kushan monastery at Fuchow. There his head was shaved; he followed the Master Miao Lien and received full ordination. Because he was cloistered in the monastery, his father and uncle were not able to track him down and bring him home. Six years later he returned home on his own. His dad had died. His mom and both wives had entered the monastic life. For the next three decades he lived the life of a wandering hermit walking to Tibet where he visited many monasteries and holy places, including the Potala, the seat of the Dalai Lama, and Tashilhunpo Monastery, the seat of the Panchen Lama. He traveled back through India, Ceylon and Burma. He composed a great number of poems during this time and achieved enlightenment at the age of 56. At the turn of the Twentieth Century he began to serve as Abbot at a series of monasteries in various places across China. He worked as administrator, teaching precepts and explaining sutras. His main passion, however, was restoring and renovating monasteries. He designed improvements, raised funds and supervised projects throughout Asia for the next sixty years. During World War II he remained in China rather than seeking safety in Hong Kong or Taiwan. After the rise of the Communist regime, he and his disciples were often mistreated and tortured. Hsu Yun persevered supported by a following in Burma, Thailand, Malaya, Vietnam, Tibet and China. In The last decade of his life he worked not only on the infrastructure of monasteries but on the spirit of Buddhism itself which was nearly extinguished during the time of Mao’s Cultural Revolution. In 1953 he founded the Chinese Buddhist Association which still thrives today. Beyond all this, what I found most fascinating were the references to what could be called paranormal occurrences. I often thought of Hamlet’s comment, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Throughout his account he tells of occasions of radiant auras and total vision. While in a state of Samadhi he had a vision of flying on a golden dragon. There was a rooster reciting Buddha’s name, a mantra-reciting raven, floating boulders spontaneous flowers, levitating monks and self-healing bells. Some people tell lies; others simply say things that are hard to believe. Xu Yun died October 13, 1959.at the age of 120
What a fascinating life and deeply engaging teaching from a true Chan master, Xu Yun. It is phenomenal that this man lived from 1840-1959. I believe, were it not for the nearly fatal beating he received at the hands of government thugs who left him for dead at the age of 112, that he would have lived to see the moon landing--and would not have been impressed. He was so far beyond time and space, living in a continuous cycle of rebirth and renewal. During the time he was beaten and left for dead, he had powerful dream of entering into the Tushita Heaven and speaking to Maitreya Buddha. Maitreya was teaching to many of his contemporaries who had already passed away, but stopped and told him that he should go back to his monastery. When Xu Yun protested, Maitreya chanted a gatha to Xu Yun which reads in part. "Because of your great compassion you have vowed to save all beings and are now involved in this world of dreams. The evil karma of this aeon flourishes. So be alert, awake to all that happens. Turn not back when from compassion the seas of suffering you sail. The lotus rises from the mud to flower, bearing a Buddha seated in its center." It is a moment when as he hovers between life and death, he completely wipes out all feelings of happiness and suffering and returns to consciousness, much to the temerity of the thugs who beat him. When asked why he did not succumb to their beating, the reply is "The old Master endures suffering for the welfare of all living beings and also to help you escape from your troubles. Later you will know why he did not succumb to your beating." When myths that grow up around great masters are told, it is easy to attribute them to the product of other times when the thinking is "less scientific" but this story, grounded in my time, attests to the power of unwavering commitment to zen practice. I was especially moved by his humility and his grace and courage as, after his recovery, he continued his work of renewing the faith of thousands of people during his life, reviving the integrity of monastic practice, and rebuilding and restoring the monasteries that had fallen into decay. He received a clear mandate at a young age to follow the Buddha's teachings and received confirmation from the 6th Patriarch and he followed that mandate to its fullest. He was teaching up to the day of his passing. A really inspiring read. The final chapters titled his 114th year he presides over a week of meditation, at the end of each day he teaches the participants. His teaching is drenched in the fragrance of plums. There is so much he desires to impart. Not for his sake but for the sake of the dharma. Truly is an inspiration. I am reading this at age 65, and it is implicit that at age 65 there is so much more to accomplish in life.
I loved this book. Empty Cloud lived to be 120 years old. This book offers a simple account of his life (about a page per year). To me he represents the best example of a person seeking a spiritual life – He is non-dogmatic and dedicated to peace. The last I checked the book was out of print and the cheapest used copy listed on Amazon was going for about $90. I hope this book is reprinted.
I was planning to leave this one without a review, but I’ll just write down a few thoughts to jog my own memory later on.
This was another book I picked up for free from a local Vietnamese Buddhist Temple, and one that Bill Porter (“Red Pine”) recommended as a good book on Zen.
Like other spiritual texts, it is hard to decipher what is real and what is legend. The book is presented as autobiography, so I struggled with tales of legendary bells ringing and floral scent wafting through monasteries at Xu-yun’s arrival (supposedly signs of his being an enlightened figure), magical beams of light at funeral dedications, and miraculous blossomings of fruit trees during his dharma talks that only happen once every few thousands of years. Everywhere Xu-yun goes and teaches, “thousands” become his disciples, and Xu-yun single-handedly stops numerous wars and disasters. Even his supposed reaching age 120 (119 per Wikipedia) is dubious.
It wasn’t until the second half of the book that I learned the genesis of the story. I originally assumed this was perhaps a collection of journal entries, or at least written by his own hand. But, at age 112, Xu-yun was severely beaten, to the point of near blindness and deafness, and government agents took his personal writings. It was then that his disciples urged him to dictate his life story, which lead to the current narrative.
I learned elsewhere that Dōgen (13th Century Japanese monk who traveled to China to learn the Chan way) described ancient legends in the Chinese mountains about mysterious bells ringing and scents wafting to signify the presence of an enlightened person, and about magical beams of light accompanying specific events. Considering the delirious state Xu-yun was in at the time, it would be reasonable to wonder if he was confusing his own life with the legends that were well known to him and those writing down the stories. It’s also possible that Xu-yun understood these stories to be signs of a spiritual life, so included them to add meaning to his own life story.
Otherwise, I found the book captivating and marveled at the poems and sermons included. Reading the letter from one of his wives, lamenting his decision to leave the family to follow the Buddhist path, was heart wrenching, though she herself also became a Buddhist nun. When not taken literally, there is a lot one can learn from Xu-yun’s story.
The chronicle of an extraordinary modern incarnation of the ancient chinese buddhist sage tradition complete with intense spiritual practices, enlightenment, unswerving devotion to truth, visions, and miracles. Gratitude to God for sending such spiritual heroes to lend us strength in our own spiritual lives and to broaden the horizons of our understanding of our human spiritual legacy.
Interesting book for those who want to know more about Buddhism and what a life of a monk is. Being an autobiography it contains some obvious lies, if you can discard those, it's a good book. Worth your time.