Shifu Miao Zhang's Parables

Michael P. Garofalo writes extensively about a fictional Daoist master who carries a cane, whom he named Shifu Miao Zhang. Garofalo explicitly translates Shifu Miao Zhang's title as the "Teacher with the Magical (Wondrous) Staff".

Through a series of philosophical parables, Garofalo uses Shifu Miao Zhang and his cane to engage in witty debates with famous historical Zen Masters like Hakuin, Zhaozhou, and Yunmen. True to Garofalo's grounded, pragmatic philosophy, the master's cane is repeatedly used to cut through abstract religious dogma and bring high-minded koans back down to practical reality.

Here are some of the most notable ways Shifu Miao Zhang uses his cane in Garofalo's writings:

• Answering Famous Koans: When the legendary Zen Master Hakuin asks him, "What is the sound of one hand?", Miao Zhang simply picks up his beautiful cane and taps it three times on the floor.
• Practicality over Magic: When a man with a magical sword challenges him, asking what his crooked staff can do, Miao Zhang replies that it enabled his wobbly legs to walk to work each day so he could earn enough money to pay for poor women and children to safely ride a ferry boat.
• Locating the Divine: When asked where the Tao is to be found, Miao Zhang replies, "There is no place my cane or my mind goes or rests where the Tao cannot be found".
• Rejecting Pretentious Poetry: When Master Ummon attempts to impress him with elaborate, mystical poetry about his own staff leaping to the Eighth Heaven, Miao Zhang bluntly responds, "Ummon your poetry is lovely, but my gnarled cane cannot hear you".
• Teaching Impermanence: When asked where "the One" returns, he playfully remarks that last week his cane fell off a mountain and was lost, yesterday it was burned to nothing, and today it "is just an ordinary wood cane". In another exchange, he notes that while yesterday his cane was a walking stick, tomorrow "it may become firewood, crackling in the flames".
• Ending Arguments: When challenged to a debate where he will be whacked with a staff whether he speaks or remains silent, Miao Zhang stands up, lifts his cane in defense, insults the other masters' staffs, and simply announces, "I am leaving now to take my evening walk. Goodbye".

Ultimately, Garofalo uses the master and his cane as a reflection of his own "secular nature mysticism." As Miao Zhang explains in one of the parables, "My cane is ordinary, so it walks with me along the Watercourse Way". In another poem, Garofalo writes from the perspective of a master who, when asked a deep philosophical question about a mountain, simply lifts his cane, places it in his mouth, and says absolutely nothing.

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