Even after a hundred battles in the yellow sands and armour pierced by arrows

From this month’s first Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

The Zen phrase “Huangsha baizhan jinjia chuan, bu po Loulan zhong bu huan” comes from a Tang‑dynasty poem.

It speaks of a warrior who, even after a hundred battles in the yellow sands and armour pierced by arrows, refuses to return home until the mission is fulfilled.

It is a declaration of unwavering resolve — a vow not to retreat before reaching the true goal.

Dispelling delusion is much like debugging a program. No matter how precisely we write, flaws inevitably hide within. And it is never easy to admit that the strange behavior was caused by our own code.

To uncover and correct a bug in a complex system, we need the same fierce determination as the warrior who will not turn back until Loulan is broken.

So it is with life: only by confronting our own missteps with persistence
do we move toward clarity beyond confusion.

黄沙百戦穿金甲 不破楼蘭終不還(こうさひゃくせんきんこうをうがつ、ろうらんやぶらずんばついにかえらじ)

臨黄ネットの今月の最初の禅語から。

禅語「黄沙百戦穿金甲 不破楼蘭終不還」は、唐詩『出塞』に由来します。

幾度も砂塵の戦場に立ち、鎧が矢に貫かれても、楼蘭を破るまでは決して帰らない──そんな揺るぎない覚悟を示す言葉です。

煩悩や無明を払うのは、まるでプログラムのデバッグのようです。

どれほど正確に書いたつもりでも、不具合は必ず潜んでいます。そして、その不可解な動作を「自分が書いた」と認めるのは難しい。複雑なプログラムのバグを突き止めるには、何としても修正するという執念が必要です。

人生のバグ取りも同じで、自分の中の誤作動を見つけ、向き合い、修正しようとする心こそが「黄沙百戦穿金甲」の精神なのです。

その覚悟が、混迷を超えて清明へと導いてくれます。

Kua whawhai i ngā pakanga rau i te one kōwhai, kua werohia tōna patu koura

Hei tā te kōrero tuatahi o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Ko te kōrero Zen “Huangsha baizhan jinjia chuan, bu po Loulan zhong bu huan” e kōrero ana mō te toa kua whawhai i ngā pakanga rau i te one kōwhai,
kua werohia tōna patu koura, engari kāore ia e hoki ki te kāinga kia tutuki rā anō te whāinga.

He kupu mō te ūmanga kore e whakangāwari — he oati kia kaua e hoki whakamuri.

He rite te whakakore i te pōuri ki te whakatikatika hōtaka.

Ahakoa te tika o te tuhituhi, ka noho puku tonu ngā hapa. He uaua te whakaae nā tātou ake i puta ai ngā mahi rerekē. Hei kimi, hei whakatika i ngā hapa o tētahi pūnaha matatini, me whai i te manawanui o te toa e kore e hoki kia pakaru rā anō a Loulan.

Waihoki i te ao: mā te ū ki te whakatika i ā tātou hē, ka anga whakamua ki te māramatanga i tua atu i te rangirua.

Heaven says nothing, yet the seasons turn and all things are born

From this month’s second Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Many people feel unable to act freely because they worry about how they appear to others. Yet what is this “public opinion” we fear. It seems to have a will or personality of its own, as if it were a single person giving us orders. But in truth, such a will does not exist.

There is a Zen phrase: “Heaven says nothing, yet the seasons turn and all things are born.”

The world moves without commentary, without judgment, without a voice telling us what to do. Just as the sky remains silent while life unfolds, the “voice of society” is only something our minds create. When we stop listening to that imagined voice, we can finally return to our own natural rhythm.

天何言哉 四時行焉 百物生焉 (てんなにをかいわんや、しじおこなわれ、ひゃくぶつしょうず)

臨黄ネットの今月のふたつ目の禅語から。

世間体が気になって、思うように行動できないと感じる人は少なくありません。けれど、その「世間」とは一体何でしょうか。まるで一つの人格を持ち、あれこれ指図してくる存在のように感じるかもしれません。しかし実際には、そんな意思や人格はどこにもありません。

「天何言哉 四時行焉 百物生焉」という禅語があります。

天は何も語らないのに、四季は巡り、万物は生まれ育つ。つまり、世界は評価も指示もなく、ただ自然に働いているのです。世間の“声”もまた、私たちが作り出した幻にすぎません。その幻を離れたとき、自分自身の季節がようやく動き始めます。

Kāore te rangi e kōrero, engari ka huri tonu ngā kaupeka, ka tupu tonu ngā mea katoa

Hei tā te kōrero tuarua o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

He tokomaha ka taupatupatu i roto i a rātou anō nā te māharahara ki ngā whakaaro o te ao. Engari, he aha rā tēnei mea ka kīia ko te “whakaaro o te iwi”. He rite ki tētahi tangata kotahi e whakahau ana i a tātou, ahakoa kāore he tino tangata pēnei e tū ana.

He kōrero Zen e mea ana: “Kāore te rangi e kōrero, engari ka huri tonu ngā kaupeka, ka tupu tonu ngā mea katoa.”

Ka neke te ao me te kore kōrero, me te kore whakatau, me te kore reo e tohu ana i te ara tika. Pērā i te rangi puku e tuku ana kia rere noa te ao, he mea hanga noa iho te “reo o te ao” e tō tātou hinengaro. Ina waiho taua reo rūpahu, ka hoki anō tātou ki tō tātou ake kaupeka māori.

When cold, be thoroughly cold; when hot, be thoroughly hot

From this month’s first Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Cold when it is cold, warm when it is warm — the Zen phrase “When cold, be thoroughly cold; when hot, be thoroughly hot” teaches us to stop resisting and to entrust ourselves to each moment as it is.

In the age of social media, anyone can send their thoughts out into the vast world.

Yet sometimes the words we share with confidence reach no one at all, while a casual remark can spark an unexpected blaze.

The “cold” and “heat” of reactions arrive regardless of our intentions.
As the old sayings go, fair winds come to those who wait, and rumors fade with time.

And so, when it is cold, we stand in the cold; when it is hot, we stand in the heat.
Perhaps simply remaining natural and unforced is the wisest way to live.

寒時寒殺闍黎 熱時熱殺闍黎(かんじはじゃりをかんさつし、ねつじはじゃりをねっさつす)

臨黄ネットの今月の最初の禅語から。

寒ければ寒いまま、温かければ温かいまま──禅語「寒時寒殺闍黎 熱時熱殺闍黎」は、状況に逆らわず、その瞬間に身を委ねる心を教えてくれます。

SNS の時代になり、誰もが広い世界に向けて自分の想いを発信できるようになりました。けれど、自信を持って投稿した言葉がまったく届かないこともあれば、軽い気持ちで放った一言が思わぬ炎を呼ぶこともあります。

反応の“寒”と“熱”は、私たちの思惑とは無関係に訪れます。

待てば海路の日和あり、人の噂も七十五日。

だからこそ、寒ければ寒さの中に立ち、熱ければ熱の中に立つ。ただ自然体でいるのが良いのかもしれません。

Ina mātao, kia tino mātao; ina wera, kia tino wera

Hei tā te kōrero tuatahi o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Mātao ana te wā he mātao, wera ana te wā he wera — e ako ana te kōrero Zen “Ina mātao, kia tino mātao; ina wera, kia tino wera” kia kaua e whakahē i te āhuatanga, engari kia tukua te wairua kia noho ki taua wā tonu.

I tēnei ao pāpāho pāpori, ka taea e te tangata te tuku whakaaro ki te ao whānui.
Heoi anō, i ētahi wā kāore he urupare ki ngā kupu i whakapono nui ai tātou, ā, i ētahi atu wā ka mura te ahi i tētahi kōrero māmā noa.

Ka tae mai te “mātao” me te “wera” o ngā urupare, ahakoa ō tātou whakaaro.
E ai ki ngā kōrero tuku iho, ka pai te hau mō te hunga manawanui, ā, ka memeha haere ngā kōrero i te wā.

Nō reira, ina mātao, me tū ki te mātao; ina wera, me tū ki te wera.
Tērā pea ko te noho māori noa te ara pai rawa atu mō te tangata.

With Buddhism teachings aside, stand alone in a quiet garden, counting falling plum blossoms

From this month’s second Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

When we are young, we tend to speak of our achievements, our ideas, and what we believe to be right.

Yet before speaking of a life whose conclusion has not yet been written, perhaps we might quietly turn our eyes toward the footsteps of those who came before us.

In doing so, we may come to realise that we are not trees growing alone, but stand upon the countless fallen blossoms and fruits that came before us.

老来仏法都忘却 独立閑庭数落梅 (ろうらいぶっぽうすべてぼうきゃくす、ひとりかんていにたちてらくばいをかぞう)

臨黄ネットの今月のふたつ目の禅語から。

人は若いうち、自らの成果や思想や正しさを語りたくなるものです。

しかし、まだ結論の出ていない自らの生を語る前に、静かに先人たちの足跡へ目を向けてみるのはいかがでしょうか。

その時、自分もまた一本だけで生えた木ではなく、多くの落ちた花や実りの先に立っているのだと気づかされます。

Ahakoa ka wareware katoa te ako a te Dharma, e tū mokemoke ana au i te māra mārie, e tatau ana i ngā pua paramu e taka ana

Hei tā te kōrero tuarua o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

I a tātou e rangatahi ana, he hiahia nō tātou ki te kōrero mō ā tātou whakatutukitanga, ā tātou whakaaro, me ngā mea e whakapono ana tātou he tika.

Engari i mua i te kōrero mō tō tātou ake oranga kāore anō kia oti te tuhi, tērā pea me tahuri puku atu ki ngā tapuwae o te hunga kua haere i mua i a tātou.

Nā reira ka mōhio tātou, ehara tātou i te rākau e tupu mokemoke ana, engari e tū ana i muri i ngā puāwai kua taka me ngā hua kua puta i mua i a tātou.

Wind does not move, banner does not move, the mind moves

From this month’s first Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

On social media, people raise their own banners and speak of the times through various signs and omens.
But is it truly the world that is moving?
Or is it our own minds that perceive movement in it?

非風非幡 仁者心動(かぜにあらず、はたにあらず、にんじゃがしんどうす)

臨黄ネットの今月の最初の禅語から。

SNS では、人々がそれぞれの旗印を掲げ、さまざまな兆候から世相を語っています。
けれど、本当に動いているのは世の中なのでしょうか。
それとも、「動いている」と感じている私たち自身の心なのでしょうか。

Kāore te hau e neke, kāore te haki e neke, ko te ngākau e neke ana

Hei tā te kōrero tuatahi o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

I runga i ngā pae pāpāho pāpori, ka hiki ngā tāngata i ā rātou ake haki, ā, ka kōrero mō te ao i runga i ngā tohu maha.
Engari, ko te ao rānei e nekeneke ana?
Kāore rānei, ko ō tātou ake ngākau e kite ana i taua nekenekehanga?

What we cherish falls away, what we reject returns to grow

From this month’s second Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

What we cherish falls away;
what we reject returns to grow.

Social media is often called an echo chamber,
yet many still say it once felt better.

Fires and quarrels blossom in any city.
Social media, too, is said to stir up outrage and dispute.
But is that all there is?

Those we liked quietly drift away,
while those we opposed answer back.

What we cherish is lost;
what we reject clings on.

花依愛惜落 草逐棄嫌生 (はなはあいせきによっておち、くさはきけんをおうてしょうず

臨黄ネットの今月のふたつ目の禅語から。

愛すればこそ散り、嫌えばこそまた生う。

SNSはよくエコーチャンバーと言われますが、
その割に、昔の雰囲気の方が良かったとこぼす声は少なくありません。

火事と喧嘩は江戸の華。
SNSもまた、炎上や論争を煽る仕組みを持つと言われます。
それだけで、今の空気は説明できるでしょうか。

好きだった投稿者はいつの間にか離れ、
否定した相手ほど応じてくる。

愛すればこそ失われ、嫌えばこそ絡みつく。

Ka hinga te mea e arohaina ana, ka tupu anō te mea e whakahēngia ana

Hei tā te kōrero tuarua o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Ka hinga te mea e arohaina ana;
ka tupu anō te mea e whakahēngia ana.

E kīia ana he rūma pāorooro ngā pāpāho pāpori,
engari he tokomaha tonu e mea ana i pai ake i mua.

He ahi, he ngangare—he putiputi nō ngā tāone katoa.
E kīia ana hoki ka whakaohohia e ngā pāpāho pāpori te riri me te tohe.
Heoi, koia rā anake?

Ka memeha ngā mea i pai ai tātou,
ā, ka whakahoki kōrero mai ngā mea i whakahēngia.

Ka ngaro te mea e arohaina ana;
ka piri tonu te mea e whakahēngia ana.

Set your resolve and leave home—if you achieve nothing, do not return

From this month’s first Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

Taro Okamoto once said, “The wall is oneself.”

Once one resolves to break through that inner wall and truly steps beyond it, one can no longer return to a way of seeing the self that builds such walls again.

男児立志出郷関 学若無成不復還(だんじこころざしをたててきょうかんをいづ、がくもしなるなくんばまたかえらず)

臨黄ネットの今月の最初の禅語から。

岡本太郎は「壁は自分自身だ」と語りました。

いったん自分という壁を破ると決意し、実際にその枠を越えて踏み出した者は、もはや再び壁を築くような自己認識へと戻ることはないでしょう。

Whakatūria te ngākau, wehe atu i te kāinga—ki te kore e tutuki, kaua e hoki.

Hei tā te kōrero tuatahi o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

I kī a Tarō Okamoto, “Ko te pakitara, ko koe anō.”

Ka whakatau te tangata ki te wawahi i taua pakitara o roto, ā, ka takahi ki tua, kāore ia e hoki anō ki te hanga i aua pakitara i roto i tōna mōhiotanga ki a ia anō.

Nothing at all—yet inexhaustible; flowers, the moon, and towers abound

From this month’s second Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

People desire many things, yet perhaps the deepest wish is for a happy future.
But we cannot shape the future exactly as we wish.

Each time we picture the future, if it does not unfold as imagined, disappointment and dissatisfaction arise.

And yet, if we can fully taste the very act of imagining the future,
we may find that within it already lies an inexhaustible richness.

無一物中無尽蔵 有花有月有楼台 (むいちもつちゅうむじんぞう はなありつきおありろうだいあり)

臨黄ネットの今月のふたつ目の禅語から。

人はさまざまなものを望みますが、いちばんの望みは幸せな未来かもしれません。
しかし人は未来を自分の思い通りにすることはできません。

未来に何かを思い描くたびに、それが思い通りにならなければ、失望や不満が生まれます。

けれども、未来を思い描くことができるという、そのはたらきそのものを味わうことができれば、
そこにはすでに尽きることのない豊かさがあると言えるのかもしれません。

Kāore he mea—he puna kāore e mimiti; he putiputi, he marama, he whare teitei kei reira

Hei tā te kōrero tuarua o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

He nui ngā mea e hiahia ana te tangata, engari tērā pea ko te hiahia nui rawa ko tētahi āpōpō harikoa.
Heoi anō, kāore e taea e te tangata te whakatakoto i te āpōpō kia rite ki tōna hiahia.

Ia wā ka whakaarohia te āpōpō, mēnā kāore e tutuki pēnei i te whakaaro, ka puta te pōuri me te kore e rata.

Engari, mēnā ka āhei tātou ki te tino rongo i taua āheinga—te whakaaro ki te āpōpō—
tērā pea ka kitea, kei roto kē i reira tētahi mātauranga nui, kāore e mimiti.

A mote in the eye—flowers fall in the empty sky

From this month’s first Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

There are what we might call existential questions.
Why do people live? Why can people not stop fighting?

Even if we ask such questions to a renowned teacher, a well-regarded book, or even an AI said to become wiser than humans, no matter how convincing the answers may sound, we may understand them with our minds, yet rarely do they settle deeply within our hearts.

In truth, questions like these have no final answers that others can give us.
We can only clear the dust from the eye of our own mind and come to our own understanding.

Yet even so—
why did we ask that question in the first place?

一翳在眼空華乱墜(いちえいまなこにあればくうげらんついす)

臨黄ネットの今月の最初の禅語から。

実存的問いというものがあります。
人はなぜ生きるのか。人はなぜ争いをやめられないのか。

こうした問いを、高名な師や評判の書物、さらには人間より賢くなると言われる AI に尋ねてみても、どんなにもっともらしい答えを示されても、頭では分かったようでいて、心の奥まで腑に落ちることはなかなかありません。

実はこのような問いには、他人が与えてくれる最終的な答えはありません。
自分自身の心の眼の塵を払い、自分自身で得心するしかないのです。

しかし、そもそも——
なぜ自分はその問いを問うたのでしょうか。

He puehu i te whatu—ka marara iho ngā putiputi i te rangi kau

Hei tā te kōrero tuatahi o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

He pātai ā-tūtanga ētahi.
He aha te take e ora ai te tangata? He aha hoki te take e kore ai te tangata e mutu te whawhai?

Ahakoa ka ui atu tātou ki tētahi kaiako rongonui, ki tētahi pukapuka e tino whakanuia ana, tae noa ki tētahi AI e kīia ana ka nui ake tōna māramatanga i tō te tangata, ahakoa he pēhea te whai kiko o ngā whakautu, tērā pea ka mārama ki te hinengaro, engari kāore e tino tau ki te ngākau.

Ko te mea pono, kāore he whakautu whakamutunga ka taea e tētahi atu te tuku mō ēnei pātai.
Me whakakore kē e tātou te puehu i te whatu o tō tātou ake hinengaro, kia puta ai te māramatanga mā tātou anō.

Heoi anō—
he aha rā i pātai ai tātou i taua pātai i te tuatahi?

Unaware of our leaving, the garden blooms again in spring

From this month’s second Zen maxim in Japanese site of Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

In Western thought, time is often seen as moving in a single direction — from past to future — like an opportunity that never returns once missed.
Zen, however, views time differently. Rather than a straight line, it is something that continually appears and renews itself.

The verse says that the garden tree does not know people have gone; when spring comes, it simply blooms again. What returns is not the past, but the living activity of spring itself. Human minds count loss and change, yet nature only follows its conditions.

Seen this way, personal attachments and achievements become small.
Spring comes, and flowers bloom — simply as they are.

庭樹不知人去尽 春来還発旧時花 (ていじゅはしらずひとさりつくすを、しゅんらいまたひらくきゅうじのはな)

臨黄ネットの今月のふたつ目の禅語から。

西洋の思想では、チャンスには後ろ髪がないと言われるように、時間は過去から未来へと一方向に進むものとして捉えられがちです。失われた機会は戻らず、歴史は前へ進み続けるという感覚です。

それに対して東洋、特に禅の教えにおいては、時間あるいは「時」は直線ではなく、繰り返し現れるものとして感じ取られます。その循環は、個人の生老病死だけでなく、集団や国家の栄枯盛衰、さらには人類の存在さえ超えた、永劫の営みとして意識されます。

「庭樹不知人去尽 春来還発旧時花」は、その感覚を静かに示しています。人は去り、時代は移り変わったと思っても、庭の木はそれを知りません。ただ春が来れば、再び花を咲かせます。ここで示されているのは、過去が戻るということではなく、「春という働き」が絶えず現れ続けているという事実です。

去来や盛衰を数えているのは人の心であり、自然はただ因縁に従って現れ、また現れる。そう見つめたとき、個人の成功や喪失への執着が、いかに小さなものであるかに気づかされます。

春は誰のためでもなく、ただ来て、ただ咲く。
その無心の営みの中に、禅が見る時間の姿があります。

Kāore te rākau e mōhio kua wehe te tangata; ka hoki mai te kōanga, ka puāwai anō

Hei tā te kōrero tuarua o te marama i te wāhanga Hapani o te Rinzai-Obaku Zen.

I roto i ngā whakaaro o te ao Pākehā, ka whakaarohia te wā he rārangi kotahi e haere whakamua ana. Ka ngaro te wā, kāore e hoki mai.
Engari, i te tirohanga Zen, ehara te wā i te rārangi tika, engari he mea e hoki mai ana, e puta anō ana.

E kī ana te kōrero, kāore te rākau o te māra e mōhio kua wehe te tangata; ka tae mai te kōanga, ka puāwai anō ngā putiputi. Ehara tēnei i te hokinga mai o mua, engari ko te putanga tonutanga o te kōanga.

Ka tatau te tangata i te ngaronga me te panonitanga, engari ka whai noa te taiao i tōna ake ara.
Ka tae mai te kōanga, ā, ka puāwai noa iho.