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Zen Master Herding Cattle

Pi

Ping Xia

April 26, 202010 min read

The Zen Master and the Cattle

In the Biography of the Buddha https://book.douban.com/subject/25819842/ I once read the Buddha’s teaching on the Sutra of Watching Over Water Buffalo https://www.jianshu.com/p/b2b4efc409d4, which roughly says:

Just as a herdsman knows each of his water buffalo, a bhikkhu should know every element of his own body. As the herdsman understands the traits and tendencies of each buffalo, a bhikkhu must discern what the body, speech, and mind should or should not do. And just as the herdsman washes the buffalo’s body, a bhikkhu should cleanse his mind of desire, attachment, anger, and fear.

Last year I came across the article “A Treasure of the Zen School! The Complete Explanation of the Cattle‑Driving Picture: Never Lost, Why Seek?” https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/T8vdh-2ViFSsGYzZAWzEiQ and was struck by the Cattle‑Driving Picture. While pondering how to maintain complex systems, I thought of this series of images—because such systems are like a wild, unruly water buffalo, and the solution is the same. I therefore excerpt them here.

The Buddha’s explanation also appears in the Teachings Left by the Buddha https://baike.baidu.com/item/%E4%BD%9B%E9%81%97%E6%95%99%E7%BB%8F/2089993:

“It is like a cattle‑herder who holds a staff and watches the herd, preventing them from trampling the crops.”

Many koans have grown out of this. The most vivid are the Cattle‑Driving Picture itself, represented by Master Puming’s Cattle‑Driving Picture Verse https://www.shuge.org/ebook/mu-niu-tu-song/ and Master Kuo‑an’s Ten Cattle Pictures https://baike.baidu.com/item/%E7%A6%85%E5%AE%97%E5%8D%81%E7%89%9B%E5%9B%BE/1238718.


Two Koans

One day, Master Shigong Huicang was working in the kitchen.

Master Mazu asked, “What are you doing?”

Shigong replied, “Driving cattle.”

Mazu said, “How do you drive them?”

Shigong answered, “I go into the grass, then suddenly pull them back by the nose.”

Mazu said, “You truly are a cattle‑herder.”


The lazy monk built a hundred‑zhang (≈3 m) platform. After bowing he asked, “A practitioner who seeks to recognize the Buddha—what is that?”

The master replied, “It’s like riding a cow while looking for a cow.”

The monk asked, “After you recognize it, what then?”

The master said, “Like a person riding a cow back home.”

The monk pressed, “How can one keep the beginning and the end secure?”

The master answered, “Like a cattle‑herder who holds a staff and watches the herd, never allowing them to trample the crops.”

From that point the master took the teaching to heart and no longer chased after anything.


Master Puming – Cattle‑Driving Picture Verse

It is essentially the process of “subduing the mind,” and it applies equally to solving difficult problems.

A black cow gradually turns white, first the horns, then the body, finally the tail. The picture divides the transformation into ten stages: Unherded, Initial Tuning, Subjugated, Turning Back, Tamed, Unobstructed, Letting Go, Mutual Forgetting, Solo Illumination, Dual Extinction. The focus is on training the mind to realize the path; the highest state is when both the herdsman and the cattle disappear and the mind‑method vanishes. The practice proceeds step by step, ascending through the levels.

1. Unherded

A fierce head and horns roar wildly, racing through streams and mountains far away. A black cloud blocks the valley mouth; who knows it will step on the tender seedlings?

2. Initial Tuning

I have a thorny rope that pierces the nose; a sudden sprint adds pain like a whip. The innate bad nature is hard to adjust, yet the mountain boy pulls with all his strength.

3. Subjugated

Gradually the beast calms, its gallop slows, crossing water, stepping through clouds. The hand holds the rope gently; the herdsman forgets his own fatigue all day.

4. Turning Back

After long practice the cow finally turns its head; the frantic mind softens. The mountain boy still does not give his full trust, still holding the rope loosely.

5. Tamed

Under the shade of green willows by an ancient stream, letting go and taking back feels natural. At dusk, blue clouds hover over the fragrant meadow; the herdsman returns home without needing a rope.

6. Unobstructed

Sleeping on the dewy ground, the mind is at ease, never needing a whip, forever free. The mountain boy sits steadily beneath a green pine, a melody of peace filling the air.

7. Letting Go

By the willow bank, spring waves glint in the evening light; faint mist and verdant grass. Suddenly thirst is quenched, the moment passes; the boy on the stone sleeps soundly.

8. Mutual Forgetting

The white cow drifts among white clouds; the person’s mind is empty, the cow likewise. Moonlight pierces the clouds, the white clouds reflect the moon, east and west alike.

9. Solo Illumination

The cow has nowhere to graze, the herdsman is idle; a lone cloud floats between blue cliffs. Clapping hands and singing beneath the bright moon, returning still meets a final gate.

10. Dual Extinction

Man and cow vanish without a trace; the bright moon illuminates the empty universe. If you ask the meaning of this ultimate point, wildflowers and fragrant grass bloom in clusters.


Master Kuo‑an – Ten Cattle Pictures

It is essentially the process of “seeking the Way,” addressing the most fundamental questions.

The Zen school’s cattle‑driving picture, the Buddha points a flower; this matter can only be personally verified—intellectual understanding never reaches the end.

1. Seeking the Cow

Busy, pushing aside grass, I chase; the water is wide, the mountains far, the road deeper. Exhausted, spirit drained, I find nothing, only the evening cicada’s song on a maple tree.

Commentary: Never lost, why chase? By turning the back on awareness one becomes distant; heading toward dust leads to loss. Home and mountain recede, divergent paths multiply; gain and loss blaze, right and wrong swarm!

2. Seeing Traces

By the water, in the forest, many traces appear; fragrant grass spreads—do you see them? Even deep in the mountains, how can the vast sky hide them?

Commentary: Following the sutra’s meaning, reading the teachings reveals the trace; the myriad vessels become one gold, the ten thousand things become oneself. No distinction between right and wrong, true and false? Before entering this gate, merely seeing traces is enough.

3. Seeing the Cow

The yellow oriole sings on a branch, the sun warms, wind stirs, the riverbank willows turn green; there is no place to avoid it, the towering horns are hard to draw.

Commentary: From sound we enter; where we see, we meet the source; the six sense doors are all alike, each movement reveals the head. Salt in water, blue in color; a blink of an eye, it is not something else.

4. Obtaining the Cow

Exhausting all powers to obtain it, a strong mind and body are hard to eliminate; sometimes we reach a plateau, then sink into deep clouds.

Commentary: Long buried in the outskirts, today we meet the channel; the environment wins, making pursuit difficult, clinging to fragrant thickets endlessly. Stubborn heart still brave, wild nature remains; to obtain purity, one must add the whip.

5. Driving the Cow

The whip and rope never leave the body, fearing the animal will wander into dust. Together we drive toward purity, the shackles are free, the animal follows the person.

Commentary: Thoughts arise first, then follow; because of awakening, truth forms; because of delusion, falsehood appears. Not from the environment, but from the mind itself; the nose‑rope holds tight, no room for speculation.

6. Riding the Cow Home

Riding the cow along winding paths, the Qiang flute sends off the evening glow; each beat, each song carries infinite meaning; a true friend needs no forced words.

Commentary: Weapons have ceased, gain and loss remain none. Sing the woodcutter’s village song, play the children’s folk tune. Straddle the cow, eyes gaze at the clouds; calling back is futile, the cage cannot hold.

7. Forgetting the Cow, Keeping the Person

Riding the cow we reach home, yet the cow is empty and the person idle. The red sun at three poles still dreams; the whip rope hangs empty in the thatched hall.

Commentary: Dharma has no duality; the cow serves as a symbol. Like a rabbit’s different name, showing the fish’s distinction. Gold from the mine, moon high in clouds, a cold flash, the voice beyond calamity.

8. Both Man and Cow Forgotten

The whip and rope, man and cow, belong to emptiness; the blue sky vast, trust hard to penetrate. Red furnace flames compete with snow? Only here can ancestors be united.

Commentary: Seeing conditions fall away, the saint’s intention is empty. Where there is Buddha, no need to stir; where there is no Buddha, one must pass through. Neither head nor tail can be grasped; a hundred eyes cannot see; a hundred birds clutch flowers—a chaotic drum!

9. Returning to the Source

Returning to the source costs effort; how can one go straight down if blind and deaf? In the hermitage nothing is seen, water is vast, flowers red.

Commentary: Originally pure, untouched by dust; observing the rise and fall of forms, dwelling in the stillness of non‑action. Not a transformation, no artificial cultivation needed. Water green, mountains blue—sit and watch success and failure.

10. Entering the Marketplace, Hands Outstretched

Bare‑chested, barefoot, I enter the market, smearing gray ash on my cheeks, smiling. No need for immortal secrets; simply teach the withered tree to bloom.

Commentary: The thatched gate alone closed, a thousand saints unaware; manage one’s own brilliance, follow the path of the ancients. Carry a ladle into town, staff in hand return home; tavern, fish stall—transform into a Buddha!


Conclusion

My favorite line is:

“Carry the ladle into the market, staff in hand return home; tavern, fish stall—transform into a Buddha.”

It captures a carefree spirit that blends with the world.

The later life of the second Zen patriarch, Master Hui‑ko, exemplifies this state:

  • After transmitting the Dharma to the third patriarch, Seng‑can, Hui‑ko went to Ye‑du.
  • He concealed his light, altered his form, taught according to circumstances.
  • He entered taverns, passed slaughterhouses, practiced street talk, followed servants.
  • With a single clear utterance, the four assemblies took refuge; this lasted thirty‑four years.
  • Someone once asked him, “Master, you are a Taoist—why act this way?”
  • Hui‑ko replied, “I adjust my own mind; what does that have to do with you?

References


Originally written by Ping Xia (平侠) and published in Chinese on Stories. Translated and adapted for DriftSeas with permission.

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