Meeting Chang San-Feng on Mount Shasta

The Fireplace Records, Chapter 9

Meeting Along the Trail

"I first met Chang San-Feng above the forest, 

near the clear spring,
when gathering clouds darkened the day,
and Mt. Shasta was silent.

His long beard was black as emptiness,
ear lobes to his shoulders,
holding obsidian in his hand,
pointing to the sun,
eyes staring into infinity,
his long body clothed in silence.

We exchanged "hellos"
smiled and bowed,
a barbarian and an Immortal,
both panting from the climb,
laughing,
ten-thousand echoes
between our rocky minds.

After billions upon billions of heartbeats past
(for he must have been 888 years old),
I was so bold
as to ask the ancient one
for the sacred mantra of yore.
He lifted his whisk,
and brushed my face,
I could not speak,
my lips were stone,
ideas stopped - 
I was alone." 

-  Michael P. Garofalo, Red Bluff, California, 2003 

Gozo said, "When you meet a man of the Way on the trail, do not meet him with words or silence.  Tell me, how will you meet him?"
- The Gateless Barrier, Case 36

Layman Saihung, a good friend of Gozo, replied, "Maybe the man of Tao will greet me first with smiles and a Tai Chi hand salute. I'd smile and rattle the rings on my raised staff. How do I know he is a man of the Way?  Maybe I really don't want to meet this strange man. Maybe, no matter what I may do or not do, maybe I won't meet him. Do you enjoy befuddling me, Gozo!" 

Legends and Lore About Grand Master Chang San-Feng 

Meetings With Master Chang San-Feng 

Fireplace Records, Case 9  

One Old Daoist Druids Final Journey  

More often than not, Master Chang San-Feng and I met in my backyard garden in Red Bluff, California, from 2004-2017. He would show up and appear as a friendly old man who spoke softly and wisely.  

For example: 

After reaching for the needle at the bottom of the sea,
I looked up, one summer's eve,
to see old Chang San-Feng open the garden gate,
and join me for Tai Chi.  ...

Just his gentle voice could be heard at times, as if he was communicating through through plants or animals.  He would sometimes appear in my dreams.  

This was just one part of my Mystical Visions Training as a neophyte Daoist Druid from 2000-2010.  I also used the Voyager Tarot for interpretating artistic symbolism and mystical visions. Magikal and Shamanistic practices can also engender complex fantasies, visions, apparitions, appearances of unrealities and encouraged coincidences.  

Grand Master Chang San Feng is one of my religious fantasies.  

Master Chang is a Taoist and Chan Buddhist, a Spirit Being, an Immortal, Offering Lots of Light, an Influencer, Creative, Pure Jing, Immense Chi, The Uncarved Pillar Reborn, Again and Again, Delighted by Samsara, Intrigued by the Inconceivable.  He is secure and tranquil in samadhi, contributing good actions-works-expressions, bravely helping others, following the Precepts.  He encourages you to work at Becoming a Gentleman with Jen, discovering and daily applying the practices of qigong and taijiquan and healthy living, being grateful, becoming enlightened, right livelihood, and living akin to the Tao. These thoughts become spiritual dictums, hwa tuo capturing mantras, for some Taoists. Recurrent streams of these key themes are flowing into the Reservoir of the Daoist Canon and seasonal Taoist living and the Buddhist Sutras and Koans.   

Why are there so many strange earthly-psycho-metaphysical-profound experiences by hikers on Mount Shasta?  Does the altitude befuddle our brains? Does the impressive scenery around this rocky mountain, and the snow all around, and the wind drive us inward into a huddled stop? Resting, sitting, breathing steadily, sipping warm thermos tea, calming down, and dealing with breathing less oxygen at 10,000 feet.  

Master Chang and I never met again on Mt. Shasta.  
  

Related Links, Resources, References

Blue Cliff Record, Case ?  Entangling Vines, Case ?

Refer to my Cloud Hands Blog Posts on the topic of Koans/Dialogues.

The Daodejing by Laozi    Best? 

Pulling Onions  Over 1,043 One-line Sayings by Mike Garofalo

Chinese Chan Buddhist and Taoist Stories and Koans

Taoism

Buddhism

Fireplaces, Stoves, Campfires, Kitchens, Pots, Firewood

Chinese Art

Tai Chi Chuan and Qigong

Meditation Methods

Zen Koan Books I Use

Zen Koans, Testing Verses, Mondos, Dialogues, Stories
Bibliography, Quotations, Notes, Resources
Compiled by Michael P. Garofalo

The Fireplace Records By Michael P. Garofalo

The Decaying Tree

                The Fireplace Records, Chapter 42

The Decaying Tree

The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?
In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 
 

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 
 

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."    

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California
   April 27, 2012

 

 

Comments, Sources, Observations, Koans, Poems, Quips:

Dead things help produce life.
Don't underestimate the power of Nature.
Mysteries upon mysteries upon mysteries.
Dragons appear and disappear.
Ravens roosting in the boughs of trees for centuries.

Trees

Trees: Magick, Lore, Myths

Master Chang San-Feng

636 Riddles, Jokes, Witticisms, Humor

Refer to my Cloud Hands Blog Posts on the topic of Koans/Stories. 

Subject Index to 1,975 Zen Buddhist Koans

Zen Buddhist Koans: Indexes, Bibliography, Commentary, Information

The Daodejing by Laozi

Pulling Onions  Over 1,043 One-line Sayings, Quips, Maxims, Humor

Chinese Chan Buddhist and Taoist Stories and Koans

The Fireplace Records (Blog Version) By Michael P. Garofalo

More Zhang Sanfeng Lore

A repost from August 2013:

Chang San-Feng, Taoist Grand Master: Bibliography, Quotes, Writings, Lore, Encounters
Research by Mike Garofalo


    "Zhang Sanfeng ("Zhang Triple Abundance" or "Zhang Three Peaks") is a famous Taoist said to have live between the end of the Yuan and beginning of the Ming periods.  His historical existence, however, is unproved.  In early biographies―including the one in the Mingshi (History of Ming)―he is usually said to be a native of Yizhou (Liaoning), but other sources give different birthplaces.  According to these works he was seven feet tall and had enormously big ears and eyes, his appearance suggested the longevity of a turtle and the immortality of a crane, and his beard and whiskers bristled like the blades of a halberd.  He tied his hair in a knot and, regardless of the season, wore only a garment made of leaves.  In his youth, Zhang is supposed to have studied Buddhism under the Chan master Haiyun (1021-56), but then mastered neidan and reached immortality.  He was known for his extraordinary magical powers as well as his ability to prophesy.
    In the first years of the Ming period, Zhang reportedly established himself on Mount Wudang (Wudang Shan, Hubei), where he lived in a thatched hut.  With his pupils he rebuilt the mountain monasteries destroyed during the wars at the end of the Mongol dynasty.  From Mount Wudang, Zhang went to the Jintai guan (Abbey of the Golden Terrace) in Baoji (Shananxi), where he announced his departure, composed a hymn, and passed away.  Later he came back to life, travelled to Sichuan, and visited Mount Wudang.
    The belief in the real existence of Zhang Sanfeng during the Ming Dynasty is reflected in the emperor's continued efforts to locate him.  The search for Zhang started in 1391 by order of the Hongwu Emperor (1368-1398) and was extended from 1407 to 1419 by the Yongle Emperor (1403-1424).  Both sent out delegates several times, but they all returned without success.  Promoted by the Ming emperor's interest, a cult developed around Zhang that spread widely and lasted until the later years of the Qing dynasty.
    As time went on, the legends about Zhang Sanfeng multiplied and became increasingly exaggerated.  Zhang is known as the founder of taiji quan (a claim without historical evidence) and the patron saint of practitioners of this technique.  During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a connection to the sexual techniques (fangzhong shu) was also established and texts dealing with these practices were ascribed to him.  The belief that Zhang was the master of Shen Wansan, a popular deity of wealth, led to his own identity as a god of wealth in the seventeenth century.  The Western Branch (Xipai) of neidan and various Qing sects also regarded Zhang Sanfeng as their first patriarch."
-  Martina Darga.  The Routledge Encyclopedia of Taoism (EoT), 2008, 2011, Volume II, p. 1233-35, article about Zhang Sanfeng in the EoT by Martina Darga. 

Chang San-Feng on Mount Pahto

Comings and Goings Around Mt. Adams (Pahto)
Chang San-Feng on Mount Pahto
By Michael P. Garofalo

I met a sturdy young man, Frank, at a campground along the Klickitat River,
far below Mt. Adams.  We talked for a good while at sunset.
He told me that he had met a fine fellow, a Mr. Chang San-Feng,
in the forest below Old Pahto; who had published a book of
poems and short essays.  I later found a copy of that book
at Klindt's Bookstore in The Dalles.  Here is one poem
from the book by Mr. Chang San-Feng:

 

"Ancient Mt. Adams glows in the last light,
winds whistling in the thick flowing firs. 

Slithering snakes in the cracks of warm
lava beds.  Dry skies: empty vastness.

A dusty camp near shallow Trout Lake, all
cooling in the darkening shadows.

Stellar Jays check my table
for crumbs.  Nothing there to eat.

Both Presence and Absence wrapped
in Becoming.  Just sit─ a mirror in the dim dusk.

Long stretches of not thinking just
listening.  The mountains are speechless.

Turning on a flashlight reveals the tent's
thin armor.  The beam pierces the walls.

The Tao unfolds itself─ moon rising
midnight.  Sleeping away losses and fears.

Coyotes calling at first hour hunting
hungry.  The hard ground gets colder.

The Yakima's named It "Pahto or Klickitat" many
centuries past.  Thus It became something human,
Something Pointed Out, Something Named,
Something Talked About, slipping away from Presence.

Some man loudly snoring and a dog barks in a nearby tent
at second hour.  My watch does not really embrace Time.

At third hour I awaken, sit up, nurturing
my liver.  I smile, alone, in passing Darkness,
without Her but within Her,
the Valley Spirit Here and Now.

At fourth hour, Buddha-Mountains disintegrate, and slowly
drying racoon crap shrivels on Buddha-Poppy seeds.  

In the distance, somewhere, out there,
Rising, rising into the black clouds, just-so,
Making Clouds Itself, As Is, and in no-mind,
the Transforming Pahto.  

I remembered something Sifu Miao Zhang once told me:
"Master Yellow-Bitterroot Mountain asked Sifu,
'What is the meaning of Old Pahto emerging in the West?'
Sifu lifted his cane and placed it in his mouth, saying nothing.
Later, zany Zen liar that Sifu was, he wrote:
"No minds, no dharmas.  No-mind, much Dharma."

Daybreak crawls in earlier in June, Solstice
Rising, Growing more Sunbeams, Ch'i
Flowing over Everything awakening.

Dawn, we are the Light, everything appearing
pristine, startling, sudden brief jolt of Insight.

After the Awakening,
roll up the sleeping bag, put on a jacket, 
eat some cereal."

Meetings with Master Chang San-Feng 
By Michael P. Garofalo

Native American Legends about Mt. Adams (Mount Phato, Mount Klickitat)  

Sifu Miao Zhang Points the Way 
By Michael P. Garofalo

Mossy Grave

 

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter! The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting.
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea.
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi.

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
on the forest floor, on some unknown noon.

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see.

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

- Michael P. Garofalo
  Meetings with Master Chang San Feng
  Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Wind River and Chanting Canyon Streams

Tomorrow, Mick and April are taking us on an outing up past the Bonneville Dam to the town of Carson, then up the Wind River Road to Curly Creek Road and then to the Swift Lake, and then west to Woodland.  They are providing a fine picnic lunch and drinks.  Good paved roads make this journey easier.  

Wind River, 30 miles

Swift Lake, South of the Mt. St. Helens' Volcano

"A white crowned night sparrow sings as the moon sets.
 Thunder growls far off.
 Our campfire is a single light.
 Amongst a hundred peaks and waterfalls.
 The manifold voices of falling water
 Take all night.
 Wrapped in your down bag
 Starlight on you cheeks and eyelids
 Your breath comes and goes
 In a tiny cloud in the frosty night.
 Ten thousand birds sing in the sunrise.
 Ten thousand years revolve without change.
 All this will never be again."
 -  Kenneth Rexroth, The Wheel Revolves, 1966



Time - Quotes and Poems 


"I first met Chang San-Feng above the forest, 
near the clear spring,
when gathering clouds darkened the day,
and Mt. Shasta was silent.
His long beard was black as emptiness,
ear lobes to his shoulders,
holding obsidian in his hand,
pointing to the sun,
eyes staring into infinity,
his long body clothed in silence.
We exchanged "hellos"
smiled and bowed,
a barbarian and an Immortal,
both panting from the climb,
laughing,
ten-thousand echoes
between our rocky minds.
After billions upon billions of heartbeats past
(for he must have been 888 years old),
I was so bold
as to ask the ancient one
for the sacred mantra of yore.
He lifted his whisk,
and brushed my face,
I could not speak,
my lips were stone,
ideas stopped -
I was alone." 
-  Michael P. Garofalo, Meetings with Master Chang San-Feng   



"Opening bell
echoes from the canyon walls —
raindrops on the river.

The sounds of rocks bouncing off rocks;
the shadows of trees traced on trees.

I sit, still.
The canyon river chants,
moving mountains.

                                                       

The sermon spun on the still point:
dropping off eternity, picking up time;
letting go of self, awakened to Mind."
-  Michael P. Garofalo, Above the Fog

 

 
 

The Past is the Key

"I saw Master Chang San-feng
Enter the Sidhe, Fairies by his side,
Crossing over the pond at dawn.
Astonished I was!
On the teahouse table by the pond I later found
Some of his neatly printed notes
Folded in a well worn tome 
Of the Tao Te Ching, in Chapter 14. 

He had written:
”Even for an Immortal, the Past is the Key.

The Future
Grasp at it, but you can’t get it,
Colorless as an invisible crystal web,
Unformed, thin, a conundrum of ideas,
The Grand White Cloud Temple of Possibilities,
Flimsy as a maybe, strong as our hopes,
Silent as eternal Space.
When you meet it, you can’t see its face.
You want to stand for it, but cannot find a place. 

The Present
It appears and disappears through the moving ten thousand things,
Quick as a wink, elusive as a hummingbird,
Always Now with no other choice,
Moving ground, unstable Plates,
Real as much as Real gets to Be,
This Day has finally come,
Room for something, for the moment, waits
Gone in a flash, assigned a date,
Gulp, swallowed by the future.
Unceasing, continuous, entering and leaving
The vast empty center of the Elixir Field.

The Past
Becoming obscurer, fading, falling apart,
A mess of memories in the matrix of brains;
Some of it written, fixed in ink, chiseled in stone,
Most of it long lost in graves of pure grey bones.
Following it you cannot see its back,
Only forms of the formless, stories, tales,
Images of imageless, fictions, myths.
A smattering of forever fixed facts,
Scattered about the homes of fading ghosts. 
The twists and turns of millions of tongues
Leaving us languages, our passports to the past.

The future becomes past, the present becomes past,

Every thing lives, subtracting but seconds for Nowness, in the Past. 
The Realms of the Gods, the kingdoms of men,
The Evolutionary Tree with roots a million years long
Intertwined with turtles, dragons, trees, stars and toads;
     crickets, coyotes, grasses, tigers, bears, monkeys and men.  

These profoundest Three of Time
An unraveled red Knot of Mystery,
Evading scrutiny in the darkness of days
Eluding capture in the brightness of nights,
In beginnings and endings are only One, the Tao,
Coming from Nowhere, Returning to Nothing.  

What dimension of Time
Does your mind dwell within?
Future, Present or Past
Where is your homeland?  

The Past holds the accomplishments, the created, the glories, and the Great.
The Present is but a thin coat of ice on the Pond of Fate. 
The Future is an illusion, a guess, a plethora of possible states.

Recreate the Past
By playing within the Present. 
Twisting and reeling one’s silky reality
From the Black Cocoons of the Acts
From which we create our Pasts.
Follow the Ancient Ways. 
The Past is the Key.”   

-  By Michael P. Garofalo, Meetings with Master Chang San-feng

Taoist Master Chang San-feng

Tao Te Ching, Chapter 14

Meetings with Master Chang San-feng

Wudang Taoist Mind-Body Arts


Ripening Peaches: Taoist Studies and Practices

Mossy Grave

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter! The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting.
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea.
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi.

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
on the forest floor, on some unknown noon.

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see.

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

- Michael P. Garofalo
  Meetings with Master Chang San Feng
  Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Forest Epiphanies

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting.
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea.
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi.

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon.

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see.

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California, 2012

Sermon by the Dead Tree

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting.
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea.
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi.

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon.

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see.

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng 
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

The Sqawk of the Jay Opened My Mind's Eye

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng   
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

The Homeland of Time's Past

"I saw Master Chang San-feng
Enter the Sidhe, Fairies by his side,
Crossing over the pond at dawn.
Astonished I was!
On the teahouse table by the pond I later found
Some of his neatly printed notes
Folded in a well worn tome 
Of the Tao Te Ching, in Chapter 14. 

He had written:
”Even for an Immortal, the Past is the Key.

The Future
Grasp at it, but you can’t get it,
Colorless as an invisible crystal web,
Unformed, thin, a conundrum of ideas,
The Grand White Cloud Temple of Possibilities,
Flimsy as a maybe, strong as our hopes,
Silent as eternal Space.
When you meet it, you can’t see its face.
You want to stand for it, but cannot find a place. 

The Present
It appears and disappears through the moving ten thousand things,
Quick as a wink, elusive as a hummingbird,
Always Now with no other choice,
Moving ground, unstable Plates,
Real as much as Real gets to Be,
This Day has finally come,
Room for something, for the moment, waits
Gone in a flash, assigned a date,
Gulp, swallowed by the future.
Unceasing, continuous, entering and leaving
The vast empty center of the Elixir Field.

The Past
Becoming obscurer, fading, falling apart,
A mess of memories in the matrix of brains;
Some of it written, fixed in ink, chiseled in stone,
Most of it long lost in graves of pure grey bones.
Following it you cannot see its back,
Only forms of the formless, stories, tales,
Images of imageless, fictions, myths.
A smattering of forever fixed facts,
Scattered about the homes of fading ghosts. 
The twists and turns of millions of tongues
Leaving us languages, our passports to the past.

The future becomes past, the present becomes past,

Every thing lives, subtracting but seconds for Nowness, in the Past. 
The Realms of the Gods, the kingdoms of men,
The Evolutionary Tree with roots a million years long
Intertwined with turtles, dragons, trees, stars and toads;
     crickets, coyotes, grasses, tigers, bears, monkeys and men.  

These profoundest Three of Time
An unraveled red Knot of Mystery,
Evading scrutiny in the darkness of days
Eluding capture in the brightness of nights,
In beginnings and endings are only One, the Tao,
Coming from Nowhere, Returning to Nothing.  

What dimension of Time
Does your mind dwell within?
Future, Present or Past
Where is your homeland?  

The Past holds the accomplishments, the created, the glories, and the Great.
The Present is but a thin coat of ice on the Pond of Fate. 
The Future is an illusion, a guess, a plethora of possible states.

Recreate the Past
By playing within the Present. 
Twisting and reeling one’s silky reality
From the Black Cocoons of the Acts
From which we create our Pasts.
Follow the Ancient Ways. 
The Past is the Key.”   

-  By Michael P. Garofalo, Meetings with Master Chang San-feng

Taoist Master Chang San-feng

Tao Te Ching, Chapter 14

Meetings with Master Chang San-feng

Wudang Taoist Mind-Body Arts


Ripening Peaches: Taoist Studies and Practices

Sapless Woody Shards of Centuries of Seasons

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng   
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Focusing the Spirit by Chang San Feng

Chang San Feng, Taoist Grandmaster, circa 1200 CE

Focusing Spirit Accumulating Energy Treatise in Grand Ultimate Practice 
Attributed to Grandmaster Zhang Sanfeng

"The beginning of Grand Ultimate is Limitless Void. Nebulous as one energy. No separation. Thus, Limitless Void is the mother of Grand Ultimate. Thus the origin of myriad of things.
    Two energies separate. Heaven and earth judge. Grand Ultimate results. Two energies are yin and yang. Yin quiescent and yang dynamic. Yin terminates yang generates.
    Heaven and earth are separated into pure and impure. Pure floats impure sinks. Pure high impure low. Yin and yang combine, pure and impure unite. Interact and generate, result in myriad things. 
    Life of man originally possesses Limitless Void. This is the prenatal mechanics. Creation of man is post-natal, thus Grand Ultimate. Thus myriad things not without Limitless Void. Also not without Grand Ultimate. 
    The function of man. When there is movement, there must be quiescence. Extreme quiescence there must be movement. Movement and quiescence mutually operate, that is yin-yang. United become one Grand Ultimate. 
    Life of man is all dependent on spirit and energy. Pure energy rises up. Doubtless to heaven. Focus spirit internally. Doubtless to earth. Spirit and energy unit. Result in one Grand Ultimate.
    Hence, the transmission of my Art of Grand Ultimate. First, understand the marvelous way of the Grand Ultimate. Not understand this, not my students.
    Art of Grand Ultimate, movement is like quiescence. Quiescence is like movement. Movement and quiescence interact. Mutually connected without break. Two energies unite. Signals the attainment of the Grand Ultimate. Internally focus spirit. Externally accumulate energy. Before form arrives, intention first arrives. Form has not arrived, intention has already arrived. What is intention? The agent of spirit.
    Spirit and energy unite, the seat of Grand Ultimate is decided. Its sign is settled. Its seat is settled. Continuously interact. The number seventy two. Thirteen techniques in Art of Grand Ultimate. Ward off, roll back, press in, in contact, take, spread, elbow, anchor. Forward, backward, to the left, to the right, remain at center. According to creation and reaction of Eight Symbols and Five Processes. 
    Also empty spirit, ignore pull, loosen waist, settle false-real, sink and press, use intention and not use strength. Top and bottom coordinated, internal and external united. Continuously linked without break. Quiescence found in movement. The ten essentials in Art of Grand Ultimate. No-two-gate for those who learn the art. Fundamental for entering the way. 
    Entering the way nourish heart stabilize nature; accumulate energy focus spirit be main path. Practice this art must follow thus. Heart not peaceful, nature disturbed. Energy not accumulated, spirit disordered. 
    Heart and nature not united, spirit and energy not coordinated, four limbs and hundred meridians of body lifeless, and functions useless. To pacify heart and stabilize nature, focus spirit and accumulate energy. Not miss hit-sitting. Not neglect techniques of training. Search within movement and quiescence the benefits of Grand Ultimate. 
    From Eight Symbols and Five Processes find principles of creation and reaction. Use seventy two number to achieve heart and nature, spirit and energy of the Grand Ultimate. Mutually function. Thus heart peaceful nature stabilized, spirit focused energy accumulated. Achieve attainment of Grand Ultimate in body. Yin-yang unite, movement and quiescence become one. Four limbs and hundred meridians of body flow smoothly. Without stagnation without wastage. Hence receive my transmission."

-   Focusing Spirit Accumulating Energy Treatise in Grand Ultimate Practice
    Attributed to Master Zhang San Feng
    A literal translation by Grandmaster Wong Kiew Kit, 2012, at Flowing Zen

Zhang San Feng

Information on Chang San Feng, Taoist Grand Master
A webpage by Mike Garofalo

Decaying Trees

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."  

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng   
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Decaying Trees by the Sea

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?

In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 

Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 

Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste ."  

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng   
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Wudang Mountain Daoist: Master Chang San-Feng

"Mount Wudang, also known as Can Shang Mountain or Tai He Mountain, is located in the Qin Ling Mountain Range of northwestern Hubei Province. Because the scenery around Mount Wudang is so majestic and beautiful, it has been given the name 'The Famous Mountain Under Heaven.' Wudang is a major center for the study of Daoism and self-cultivation.

The legendary founder of Wudang wushu was Zhang San Feng. Zhang San Feng was a Daoist who lived in these mountains to cultivate the Dao during the Ming Dynasty. Zhang San Feng was born in 1247 A.D. in the area of what is known today as Liao Ning. Zhang San Feng is a very famous figure in the history of Chinese wushu. His martial abilities and healing techniques were superb and he was known to have cured many people of illnesses. This brought about great admiration from the common people. The emperor of the Ming Dynasty erected a monument on the mountain to commemorate the contributions of Zhang San Feng. During Zhang's younger years he met Daoist Huo Lung (Fire Dragon) with whom he studied the Dao. After attaining the Dao, Zhang moved to Wudang Mountain and cultivated an additional nine years. Many historical documents suggest that Zhang San Feng was the person responsible for synthesizing the wushu of the common people with the internal methodology and philosophical principles of Daoism. Wudang wushu is primarily known for its internal styles.

Zhang San Feng created Wudang wushu by researching the basic theory of Yin and Yang, the Five Elements, and the Eight Diagrams (Ba Gua). Wudang wushu has a very close relationship with the theories of Taiji, Yin and Yang, the Five Elements, the Eight Diagrams, and the Nine Palaces. Zhang San Feng was able to incorporate the Daoist practice of changing the Essence into Internal Energy , Internal Energy into Spirit , and Spirit into Emptiness to form the theory of Wudang wushu."
- Introduction to Wudang Martial Arts

 

Grandmaster Zhang San Feng: Bibliography, Resources, Links, Quotes, Notes

Wudang Qigong

Magic Pearl Qigong

Dragon Qigong

Valley Spirit Qigong

From the Decaying Tree

"The smell of the sea hugged the fog in the redwood trees,
All cool and dank, dimly lit and rank with green,
And in shadowed limbs the Stellar jays jabbered free,
And me, standing silently, an alien in this enchanted scene.

From behind the mossy grey stumps
the sounds of footsteps crunching fronds of ferns
caught my suddenly wary mind ...
What?

"Hello, old friend," said Chang San Feng.
"Master Chang, what a surprise," said I.
Master Chang sat on a stump, smiled, and said,

"Can you hear the Blue Dragon singing in the decaying tree;
Or is it the White Tiger roaring in the wilderness of your bright white skull?
No matter!  The answer is in the questioning; don't you Chan men see?
 
In the red ball flesh of this decaying tree
Sapless woody shards of centuries of seasons
Nourish the new roots of mindfulness sprouting. 
Yes, Yes, but how can it be?
The up-surging waves of life sprout forth from the decaying tree,
As sure as sunrise rolling over the deep black sea. 
Coming, coming, endlessly coming; waves of Chi. 
 
Tan Qian's raven roosts for 10,000 moons
     in the withered branches of the rotting tree;
     then, one day, the weathered tree falls,
     nobody hearing, soundlessly crashing
     on the forest floor, on some unknown noon. 
 
Over and over, over and over, life bringing death, death bringing life,
Beyond even the miraculous memories of an old Xian like me;
Watching, watching, sequestered from the strife,
Turning my soul away sometimes because I cannot bear to see. 

Even minds may die, but Mind is always free
Bounding beyond, beyond, far beyond you and me;
Somehow finding the Possibility Keys
And unlocking the Door out of the Voids of Eternities."

Master Chang somehow, someway,
slowly disappeared into the red brown heart of the decaying tree.

Then the squawk of the jay
opened my mind's eye to the new day -
Namaste."   

-  Michael P. Garofalo
   Meetings with Master Chang San Feng   
   Remembering Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Rootless Tree by Chang San Feng

Does anyone know where I might be able to find an English language translation of The Rootless Tree verses in either a book, journal article, online, or in a private collection?  

無根樹  Wugen Shu  The Rootless Tree

The Rootless Tree is an Taoist alchemical text attributed to Taoist Master Zhang San Feng.  The text has 24 verses and was written between 1100-1400 CE.  The content reflects Complete Reality Taoism - a blend of Buddhism and Taoism.  

I did find one translation online:  The Rootless Tree.  Translated by Akrishi.  2009.  The seven webpages include a short introduction, then webpages with facing Chinese characters and an English language translation, and a separate English only translation.     

Please comment to this blog post, or send me an email. 

Thank you very much for any assistance!! 

Here are the first two verses of Akrishi's translation:

1

Rootless tree, the flower is shattered.
Cling to vanity who will cease? 
Wretched life, sea of sufferings.
Drifting here and there ain’t not free. 
No shore nor end, no berth to park.
All day sail around sharks and fishes. 
If you repent, there is the shore,
Not until the wind and waves break your vessel. 

2

Rootless tree, the flower is withering,
Renew old tree and graft green branch.
Plum on willow, mulberry with pear,
Pass to devotees as an example. 

Ancient method of transplanting immortals,
There is really a cure to aging.
Seek a guru, ask for the recipe
Proceed to practice less too late.