佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄 9.48

9.48

Zhimen said: "The clam holds the bright moon," and "The rabbit conceives"—both employ the imagery of mid-autumn. Although this is so, the ancient's intention did not reside in the clam and the rabbit. He was a venerable elder in Yunmen's assembly. A single phrase had to contain three phrases: the phrase that covers heaven and earth, the phrase that cuts off the myriad streams, and the phrase that follows the waves and pursues the billows. Without needing contrivance, it naturally hit the mark; going straight to the steep place, he answered this monk's question, revealing just a bit of sharp edge, which was undeniably extraordinary. Even though it was like this, that ancient ultimately did not play with light and shadow; he only pointed out a bit of the road to let people see.
This monk asked: "What is the substance of prajñā?" Zhimen said: "The clam holds the bright moon." The Han River produces clams, and within the clams are bright pearls. When the mid-autumn moon appears, the clams float to the water's surface, opening their mouths to embrace the moonlight, and by this resonance they produce pearls; these are the pearls of Hepu. If there is a moon at mid-autumn, there are many pearls; if there is no moon, there are few pearls.
"What is the function of prajñā?" Zhimen said: "The rabbit conceives." The meaning here is no different. The rabbit belongs to yin; when the mid-autumn moon rises, it opens its mouth and swallows its light, whereupon it conceives and gives birth to young from its mouth. This, too, is a case of many when there is a moon and few when there is no moon.
In the ancient's answer, there was not all this fuss; he merely borrowed the metaphor to answer concerning the light of prajñā. Although it was like this, his intention did not reside in the words and phrases. It is simply later people who make a living upon the words and phrases. Have you not heard Panshan say: "The mind-moon is solitary and round, its light swallowing the myriad forms. The light does not illuminate objects, nor do the objects exist. When light and objects are both extinguished, what is it again?" Nowadays, people merely stare with wide eyes and call it light, producing interpretations purely from emotion, driving stakes into empty space. An ancient said: "All of you, at the gates of your six sense faculties, day and night emit great bright light that illuminates and shatters the mountains, rivers, and the great earth." It is not only the eye faculty that emits light; the nose, tongue, body, and mind also all emit light. When you reach here, you must completely clear away the six faculties so that not a single speck of dust remains, stark naked and utterly exposed; only then will you perceive where this phrase lands. Xuedou eulogizes it precisely thus: