Zen in general: Re-intoducing Mus Sosekis Dialogues in a Dream Molly Vallor

Jizin is a tiny temple ensconced in a thick grove of bamboo in a quiet Western

Kyto neighborhood. A string of signs point visitors to the temple, most of which
advertises its ties to two historical figures of importance: its builder, shogunal deputy
Hosokawa Yoriyuki (1329 1392) and the famously eccentric monk Ikky Sojun (1394
1481) who trained there. All but overlooked is the man posthumously credited with its
founding: Mus Soseki (1275-1351), a small statue of whom sits in a darkly lit corner
of the main hall, enjoys only a brief mention in the temples pamphlet.
Relegated to the margins of most contemporary narratives of medieval history
and culture, Mus Soseki Although Mus is mostly known as the genius garden
designer behind such impressive temples as Tenryji and Saihji, both in Western
Kyto. Still, his numerous contributions as a prominent prelate and elaborator of the
Five Mountains system of Rinzai Zen monasteries during a time of social and political
turbulence are largely neglected now. His works of poetry, calligraphy, and religious
writings have yet to receive significant popular or scholarly attention. In particular, his
religious tract Dialogues in a Dream (Much mondsh, 1344) is a hidden jewel of
Buddhist literature and that promotes Zen practice even as it insists on the affinities
between Zen and other styles of medieval Japanese Buddhism. It exemplifies Muss

characteristically synthetic mode of thought that demands mutual understanding and

respect between adherents to different religious approaches. Given the need to take
interfaith dialogue seriously in a world fractured into splinters of religious extremism,
we would do well to learn from Mus and how he responded to religious multiplicity in
his own uncertain time.
A complicated and multilayered work, the essence of Dialogues can
nevertheless be accessed by exploring three general points. First, reflecting the growing
ties between Zen institutions and the ruling warrior class, Dialogues was based on a
series of exchanges between Mus and the General Ashikaga Tadayoshi. Second, unlike
other tracts used to promote Zen in monasteries or at court, Dialogues was intended for
a larger, more general audience. Third, and perhaps most notably, the work promotes
Zen not by dismissing other Buddhist approaches based on the scriptures but by
generalizing both approaches as equalin so far as they both point at but fall short of
the absolute truth.
A student and intimate of Mus, General Ashikaga Tadayoshi (1306-1352)?
assisted his brother shgun Ashikaga Takauji (1305-1358) in founding the Muromachi
regime, under which the Five Mountains system would reach its apex. While Takauji
saw to the military aspects of the early administration, Tadayoshi handled the affairs of

the state. While both brothers patronized Mus, Tadayoshi appears to have been more
serious as a practitioner of Zen than the elder Ashikaga. It is believed that the exchanges
between Mus and Tadayoshi upon which Dialogues are based took place while
Tadayoshi was based in the capital Kyoto between 1339 and 1341. Tadaysohi is the
interlocutor of Dialogues, which consists of 93 questions and answers in 3 books.
While the presence of Tadayoshi determines the content of the work to some
extent, his role in Dialogues is actually quite limited, as this work was intended for a
general readership. This is made clear in the first postscript penned by the Chinese
monk Zhuxian Fanxian (1292-1348?), who expressly states that Dialogues is written for
an audience that includes monks, lay people, women, men, and those with and without
education. Such a diverse readership is reflected in the use of the mixed Chinese and
Japanese style of the work, which is quite close to classical Japanese albeit with syntax
clearing derived from literary Chinese. Significantly, Dialogues was the first work to be
printed in this mixed style using woodblocks. (Prior to this time, legal codes and
Buddhist scriptures had been printed in literary Chinese using woodblocks.) Even more
remarkable is the speed with which Dialogues was printedjust a few years after the
initial exchanges took place, and most astonishingly, during Muss lifetime, clearly
indicating the importance of this work in its time. Dialogues continued to be printed and

read widely for several hundred years afterward.

In making his Zen approach accessible to a general audience, Mus skillfully
weaves Zen into the narrative of Japanese Buddhist history. The medieval landscape
was dominated by powerful large-scale exoteric and esoteric temples and shrines with
ties to the aristocracy and the imperial house. Moreover, in the late 12 th century, social
and political unrest led to the rise of several new Buddhist movements that sought
followers from various social classes in both the capital and the provinces. Against such
a backdrop, the ascending warrior class became increasingly attracted to the Zen school,
a fresh import from the Chinese continent that offered the cultural prestige of Song
dynasty China without the cultural and institutional baggage of the old guard. By the
time Mus appeared on the scene, Zen was still a relative newcomer, compared to the
exoteric, esoteric, and new movements that dominated the Buddhist scene at that time.
Seeking to carve out a place for Zen, Mus attempts in Dialogues to reconcile these
various traditions. He is the perfect person to have done so, as Mus was descended
from aristocratic and imperial bloodlines, and he trained in esoteric and exoteric forms
of Buddhism before becoming a Zen monk, training under Chinese masters, and
eventually receiving the seal of enlightenment from a Japanese master in a Chinese
lineage.

To understand how Mus brings together the teachings of Zen and other
Japanese Buddhist traditions in Dialogues, we must consider a poem attributed to a
lovesick lady at court quoted in Section 77, the crucial metaphor that Mus uses
equalizes all Buddhist approaches:

I paint the scene in part, leaving it incomplete.

Deep in my bedroom, I lay bare my anguish.
Intently I call Little Jade,
But there is nothing the matter in the first place.
I just want him to recognize my voice

Mus explains: Once, a gentleman longed for a lady and let her know of it. At a certain
time, he visited the area near her quarters for a bit of diversion. The lady wanted to let
him know that she was in her chamber, but fearful of gossip, she repeatedly called to her
servant Little Jade to open the screen and lower the blinds. Her intention was not at all
to have Little Jade do these things. Rather, it was only that she wanted the gentleman to
hear her voice and realize that she was in the room (Section 77).
In the same way the womans statement is not intended to be taken literally,
Mus asserts later, the meaning of all Buddhist teachingsZen or otherwiseis not to
be found in the words used to convey them. Rather, all these approaches merely point to
the fundamentally enlightened state of all beings. By generalizing and equalizing Zen

and the scriptural teachings, Mus creates a level playing field from which to explain
and advocate Zen teachings and practicea major theme of this fascinating figures life
and his Dialogues in a Dream.