Zen Koan #18: Shuzan’s Staff
Zen Koan #18: Shuzan’s Staff
Full Archive Here.
Context: Master Shuzan (Shoushan) held out his short staff and told his monks, “If you call this a staff, you are attached to name. If you call it not a staff, you deny reality. Now what do you call it?” (This is Case 43 of the Gateless Gate)1.
Commentary: Here we have a classic Zen object lesson. The stick (staff) is plainly there, yet any label falls into error: saying “staff” is a convention that might blind one to the essence beyond the label; saying “not a staff” is contrarian and ignores its functional reality. It’s a double bind similar to “the sound of one hand” or “man in tree” – one cannot answer yes or no, staff or not-staff.
The only way out is a response from beyond duality. When Shuzan demanded an answer, one could imagine a monk coming up, snatching the staff and breaking it, or tossing it aside, or even hitting Shuzan with it (if daring!). Perhaps another might simply bow or make a metaphor.
The recorded “answer” in one version is that a monk stepped forward, took the stick and pulled off a great dramatic pose as if to take it, but then – unclear what happened next, possibly enlightenment for someone. The koan forces examination of how mind uses names. A Zen anecdote: Once a monk said, “It’s not that it cannot be named, but that the name fails.” He means the word “staff” is not the actual staff – the thing-in-itself is beyond the name. But that’s still an intellectual answer.
Shuzan wanted a demonstration that the student sees the staff’s true nature directly. The staff is often a symbol of the teacher’s authority, too. So Shuzan might also be testing if someone can take up true Zen authority by meeting this challenge without fumbling.
Wumen’s commentary on this koan says, “If you can call it or not call it, either way you are using the stick. Rather than be stuck, try opening your mouth to speak truth directly – you can’t, eh?” Essentially, the student must somehow use the staff (reality) to express truth, rather than be used by concepts.
Wumen’s verse goes: “Holding out the staff, he gave an imperative; / He’s either smashed or accepted. / At the crossroads of yes and no – / The staff snatched away, the true teaching revealed.” It implies that the winner in this exchange will snatch the staff and transcend the dilemma.
This koan teaches us about non-dual perception. In everyday terms: many situations have apparent dualistic choices that both feel wrong. Zen encourages finding the “third way” – an answer from presence or intuition that resolves the dichotomy. For example, if asked, “Is this object sacred or mundane?” perhaps the Zen answer is to drink tea with it – neither calling it sacred nor denying it, but using it naturally.
Shuzan’s staff is like a pointer – pointing beyond “this” or “not-this.” The student’s task is to see what it’s pointing to. Some interpreters say the answer is “Your Mind” – the staff is a staff in your mind, and not a staff in your mind, so what is it? Only mind. But caution: an answer like “mind” is conceptual. The real solution might be to break the separation between self and staff entirely – to become the staff.
Perhaps the enlightened student would pick it up and do a little dance – the staff dancing itself. In life, whenever we name something, we should remember the “stick koan” – don’t get too attached to the names, but also acknowledge things as they are.
In Zen we strive to experience “staffness” without clinging to “staff.” Then we can respond to the world freely. When needed, call a stick a stick; when needed, don’t call it anything – just use it or appreciate it. The koan invites you into that flexible, awakened relationship with reality.
Zen Koans: The Gateless Gate to Insight
Zen koans are short, paradoxical anecdotes or questions used in Zen Buddhism to provoke deep reflection and awaken insight beyond logical reasoning. A classic koan often features an encounter between a student and a master where the master’s response is unexpected or seemingly nonsensical. Koans are not riddles with trick answers; instead, each koan is a “Gateless Gate” – a barrier that the logical mind cannot pass. Only by dropping analytical thinking and engaging one’s whole being can one penetrate a koan and experience a shift in consciousness. As 18th-century master Hakuin Ekaku described, “From the very beginning all beings are Buddha... It is like water and ice... Stop the movement to grasp or reject and behold: the water flows clear and freely” – a poetic summary of the koan spirit of letting go and directly seeing reality.
Koans emerged within the Chán/Zen tradition of China during the Tang and Song dynasties (7th–13th centuries) and were later transmitted to Japan, Korea, and Vietnam. Koan practice involves contemplating these stories during meditation or daily activities, often under guidance of a teacher. The seemingly illogical responses of the masters are designed to frustrate the discursive mind and force the student to turn inward, smashing conventional dualistic thinking. The great Zen teacher Wumen (Mumon) said one must “pass through the barrier of the ancients” to realize enlightenmentsacred-texts.com. In koan practice, great doubt and great faith work together – as the student’s habitual thinking gets tied in knots, a breakthrough becomes possible.
Classic Collections of Koans
Over generations, Zen teachers compiled koan collections with commentary to aid students. Three of the most famous are The Gateless Gate (Mumonkan), The Blue Cliff Record (Hekiganroku), and The Book of Equanimity (Shōyōroku):
The Gateless Gate – compiled in 1228 by Chinese master Wumen Huikai (Mumon Ekai). It contains 48 koans (plus one added later), each with Wumen’s commentary and verse. The title “Gateless Gate” indicates that the only barriers to enlightenment are our own attachments. Wumen’s cases include famous dialogues like “Joshu’s Dog”, “Mu”, and “Nansen Cuts the Cat”. Wumen’s brief commentaries are often wry or poetic, designed to jolt the reader’s mind into a new perspective.
The Blue Cliff Record – a 12th-century collection of 100 koans, expanded from earlier compilations by master Yuanwu Keqin. The Blue Cliff Record includes extensive commentary and verse for each casebluecliffrecord.ca. These koans are drawn from the golden age of Zen in Tang/Song China and feature many renowned masters. The Blue Cliff is known for its literary elegance and subtle, layered analysis – in fact, it was once suppressed for fear monks would intellectualize its poetry instead of directly realize the truth. Nevertheless, it remains a treasure trove of Zen wisdom, including koans like “Every Day Is a Good Day”, “The Highest Meaning of the Holy Truths” (Bodhidharma’s encounter with Emperor Wu), and Layman Pang’s stories.
The Book of Equanimity – also known as the Book of Serenity, compiled by Wansong Xingxiu in the 12th century. It contains 100 koans (with some overlap with the Blue Cliff) and emphasizes balanced, peaceful reflection – hence “equanimity.” Each case is accompanied by verses by earlier master Hongzhi. The Book of Equanimity includes cases such as “The World Honored One (Buddha) Points to the Ground”, “Jizo’s Most Intimate”, and “Rinzai’s True Person”. It is valued in the Sōtō Zen school for its gentle yet profound approach.
Each of these collections became a classic, studied by monks and lay practitioners alike. In the Rinzai Zen tradition (especially in Japan), a teacher might assign koans sequentially to trainees – starting with a “first barrier” koan like Mu or “What is the sound of one hand?”, then moving through dozens or even hundreds of koans over years of training. In Sōtō Zen, koans are not assigned in the same way, but they still inform teachings and are reflected upon during zazen (sitting meditation) or in daily life stories.
Koans are “alive” – not mere texts to be parsed, but encounters to be experienced anew by each practitioner. There is a saying that “a koan is not answered, it answers you.” In working with koans, one isn’t solving a puzzle so much as allowing the koan to work on one’s own tightly held perspectives. A genuine response to a koan comes not from the intellect but from one’s whole being, often spontaneously. It could manifest as a word, a gesture, a deep bow – or simply a fundamental shift in understanding. The commentaries and verses provided by the classic koan collections are there not to explain the koan’s “solution” (indeed, any such explanation could spoil it), but to point towards the state of mind of the masters and to inspire the adept. They often use allusions, poetry, or humor to hint at the deeper meaning.
Below, we explore 100 traditional Zen koans drawn from the Mumonkan, Blue Cliff Record, Book of Equanimity, and other classic Zen lore. For each koan, we present the original story or exchange (in English translation), give a bit of historical/spiritual context about the teachers or setting, and offer a brief commentary or interpretation to illuminate the key insight or paradox. These koans are not meant to be “understood” in a conventional way – rather, let their images and words resonate beyond reason. As Wumen said in his preface to The Gateless Gate, “If you do not pass the barrier and do not shatter your illusions, you will remain a ghost clinging to bushes and grasses.” But if you step through the gateless gate, even the most ordinary moment – hearing the rain drip, seeing a flower bloom, washing your bowl – can reveal ultimate truth.
One Hundred Zen Koans (with Context and Commentary)
Below is a curated list of 100 classic Zen koans. They span the early Chinese masters (6th–10th century), the golden age of Zen (Tang/Song dynasties), and a few later and modern anecdotes that have entered Zen teaching. Each koan is titled by a distinguishing phrase or subject. The context notes the protagonist master (and era, if known) or source, and the commentary highlights the paradox or insight. Many of these koans appear in the aforementioned collections, indicated in parentheses for reference (GG = Gateless Gate, BCR = Blue Cliff Record, EQ = Book of Equanimity). Whether a koan is encountered in formal practice or casual reading, it can serve as a “finger pointing at the moon” – do not fixate on the finger (the words), but look to the moon (your own direct experience)!
Full Archive Here.