Hua Shan – Daoist Sacred Mountain

[Geof Nanto]

More from John Blofeld’s  My Journey in Mystic China,  (courtesy of Gerald)…….

 

 

The Mysterious Phenomenon of the Bodhisattva Lights

 

It's a pity that I couldn't speak Mongolian, because after a few weeks at Mount Wutai, I began to yearn for the company of friends. Therefore, I decided to visit a place where travelers of Chinese descent stayed. A local resident informed me that there were very few ethnic Chinese monks living on the mountain, but that there was one special monastery called the Lodge of Supreme Beneficence. The founder was the renowned grandmaster Neng Hai. He had lived for a long time in Tibet, where he had become highly proficient in the Tibetan language, and he had mastered the Vajrayana (Tantric Tibetan Buddhist) teachings.

 

Grandmaster Neng Hai had studied the entire heart of the Tantric Tibetan school of Buddhism and transmitted its essential teachings to disciples who were not literate in the Tibetan language, enabling them to practice the path of Tantric Buddhism. He had thirty to forty close disciples, all of whom were highly talented and well-disciplined monks. During the time of the Tang Dynasty, China had its own school of Tantric Buddhism, but toward the end of the Tang period, it fell into decline and disappeared, and only a branch sect in Japan continued this tradition. Grandmaster Neng Hai wanted to revive the Chinese Tantric school of the Tang era and to further enrich it with Tibetan Tantric teachings. My local informant also told me that every year during the summer season, Chinese practitioners came to live in retreat at the Lodge of Supreme Beneficence. Happy to hear this, I decided to pay a visit there.

 

To my complete surprise, among the lodgers was an acquaintance of mine from Tienjin, Dr. Chang. He said that I'd come just in the nick of time, for in a few days he and some of his friends were going to explore one of the mountain's Five Peaks (I think it was the West Peak, but perhaps my memory is wrong) to see the so-called Bodhisattva Lights, and if I wished to join them, nothing would please him more. Naturally I felt very happy to accompany them on a visit to such a famous sight, but when I accepted their invitation, I could not foresee that the Bodhisattva Lights would become one of the most unforgettable and mysterious phenomena I've seen in my entire life.

 

Before departure, we hired a few mules and as we set forth on our journey, the sky was grey and overcast, and the mountain peak stood dim in the distance, sometimes shrouded in white mist, sometimes completely concealed by clouds. Before long, our clothing grew damp. The road was slippery and difficult to traverse, slowing the mules and horses down to a plodding pace. That evening we lodged at a small monastery, and the next morning we continued our ascent in the rain. The mountain trail was even more slippery than the day before, so we had no choice but to dismount our horses and proceed on foot. Originally we had anticipated viewing the Bodhisattva Lights that evening, but the groom informed us that during inclement weather there were no unusual phenomena of any kind to be observed there.

 

Just as we were sighing with disappointment, the sky began to clear. As the sun set in the west, the clouds dissolved and the mist scattered. When night descended, the entire sky filled with stars. Upon arrival at the peak, we took lodging at an ancient mountain monastery, where there were only three or four monks, but lots of rodents. After we'd finished a vegetarian meal and the kitchen lamps had been extinguished, the monks led us into the kitchen to have a look. Inside, it was pitch black and in the darkness we could feel soft bodies bumping constantly against our feet with a shrill squealing sound that gave us the creeps. A monk struck up some sparks on a flint stone outside, lit a small torch, and came inside. Ai ya! All we could see was the entire floor completely covered with a seething mass of rats, so densely packed that not a sliver of space separated their bodies. I'd often heard that remote monasteries were like this, and since monks were forbidden to kill any form of life, they had no choice but to tolerate it. Every winter the mountain monasteries were sealed off from the outside world by snow, so they had to store sufficient supplies of rice to prevent the monks from starving to death. This attracted swarms of rodents, and other than killing them, what else could be done to eliminate them?

 

The monasteries at the peak of the mountain had very few bedrooms, so our only option was to sleep on the floor planks of the reception room; and even though it was the summer season, the nights up in the high mountains were still very cold. The monks lent us a pile of their thickly padded bed quilts, and since our little group slept closely nestled together, we slipped comfortably into sweet slumber.

 

Late in the night, we were suddenly startled awake, and as we opened our eyes we saw a monk standing in the doorway and shouting at us, "Get up, get up, hurry out to the terrace to see the Bodhisattva Lights!” The moment we heard that, we scurried to our feet and threw on a few pieces of clothing, and though we draped ourselves with quilts as substitutes for our padded coats, we still felt very cold. We ran out to the terrace, where it was even colder, making our bodies shiver from head to foot, but our hearts were filled with excitement as we focused our attention on viewing the mysterious phenomenon of the famous sight before our eyes.

 

That peak was Mount Wutai's central pinnacle, and it stood relatively aloof from the other four peaks. Viewing them all from the vantage point of the level plateau halfway up the mountain, the five peaks looked like five separate mountains. But looking into the distance from the terrace, with the main peak's summit behind us, the other four peaks were concealed from view, and the high plateau was spread out thousands of feet below us—so gazing out at the view from here, all we could see was open sky.

 

As we stood on the terrace outside the monastery, scanning the expanse of the horizon, we saw thousands of strange objects floating slowly above the terrace. These extraordinary globe-shaped entities approached from faraway and disappeared again into the distance, continuously radiating golden beams of light, as though the whole sky were filled with countless glowing lanterns. Their shape, color, size, and other features were all exactly alike, without any noticeable variations. These mysterious orbs moved across the sky at about the same speed as goldfish swimming calmly in water.

 

However, because there was no way to judge the distance between these curious objects and the terrace, it was difficult to determine their size. According to my conjecture, they seemed to be about the size of footballs, but they could also have been as large as observation balloons. In the midst of the darkness, distances were impossible to verify.

 

The Bodhisattva Lights could not have been etheric objects. Instead, they appeared to be physical entities with both substance and duration, and one could clearly discern that they were light and delicate, otherwise how could they float in the sky? Only those with strong faith in Buddhist doctrine would think otherwise. They would believe that these things were neither light nor heavy objects, but rather that they were the radiant light emanating from the enlightened heart of Manjusri Bodhisattva. What I have said above is all based on later conjectures. At that time, we all just stood there astounded beyond bounds, stammering at each other, speechless with wonder. Not yet able to even speculate on the possibility of such a mysterious phenomenon manifesting in the sky, we simply stood in awestruck silence in order to appreciate its unfathomable nature.

 

That was fifty years ago and I still find it very difficult to explain this phenomenon! In those days, most people believed that it really was an emanation from the luminous awareness of a bodhisattva. And perhaps this was in fact the case, for I have no grounds to dispute such a claim. People in modern times, even if they are Buddhists, generally find it difficult to really believe in the existence of supernatural phenomena in this world. Even I, while actually witnessing this startling marvel, felt no doubt in my mind that it was an arcane mystical phenomenon. Later, however, when I tried to analyse it with reason and logic, I found myself searching for a theoretical basis to explain the origin of this phenomenon. But in all this time, I still have not found a suitable scientific answer, only a lingering doubt.

 

Of course, it's true that countless other travelers have also seen the Bodhisattva Lights, and naturally many of them are not Buddhists. Perhaps they ask themselves whether this phenomenon is simply produced by marsh gas. Personally, I think that's definitely not the case. How could marsh gas discharge from a high plateau halfway up a tall mountain, rise several thousand feet, then dissipate into the vaults of heaven? Moreover, those countless thousands of glittering golden globes clearly drifted in from the far distance, then floated away again into the distant horizon. I've never heard of any marsh gas that can rise up high into the sky and drift dozens of miles, all without the slightest change in their original shape and size. How could that be possible?

 

Those who have never witnessed this fascinating spectacle might guess that it's an illusion produced by some sort of deceptive technique. But how could anyone up on the mountain possibly produce those countless thousands of luminous spheres? To produce thousands of "lights" each and every day would cost a fortune, and to make them fly high and far would definitely not be an easy task, and would require spending an even greater sum of money. What would be the point of wasting money like this?

 

At the time, I did not inquire whether or not the Bodhisattva Lights occurred in all four seasons, but in any case, it was certainly not limited to any particular days. When Dr. Chang and his group invited me to travel with them, they did not specify a special day to ascend the peak of the mountain. In fact, they postponed our departure several times in order to attend some teachings given by Grandmaster Neng Hai. Nor did I ask whether the Bodhisattva Lights were only to be seen on one peak, or if they could also be observed from the other peaks. I think someone from a big travel agency in China would know. Ever since the Buddhist monasteries on Mount Wutai were wrecked by the Japanese army, and the suppression of religion by the Red Guards that followed later, very few travelers went to that mountain. Only recently have people once again begun to mention the various famed sights of Mount Wutai. During the intervening decades, the situation at this sacred mountain has no doubt changed. People today may not even know that Mount Wutai has such a marvelous phenomenon as the Bodhisattva Lights. Nor have I asked anyone lately whether people still climb up to the peak to witness this extraordinary display.

 

(from John Blofeld’s,  My Journey in Mystic China,  pp 109 - 114)

Edited April 19, 2016 by Yueya

[Geof Nanto]

Book extracts continued….

 

7.            Women go to Holy Mother Temple and kneel in prayer at her altar. They tell her their innermost thoughts and wishes for a good loving husband and a son. She grants the requests of all sincere suppliants and in return they bring her tokens of gratitude, pieces of embroidered cloth, not silk, for they are poor, simple folk.

 

8.            The young, smiling deity, seated in the temple, lived two thousand years ago. She was a girl in the harem of China’s great unifier, the awesome emperor Shih-huang-ti, but escaped following him with all his other wives into his tomb. She sought to live a life beyond our mortality, took refuge in a cave on the mountains, feeding on pine cones and drinking morning dew. She let her hair grow until it clothed her body. She became lightsome as air and rose to heaven. This true saint found truth and the meaning of enduring life. She brings comfort to the suffering people: even in our times.

 

9.            Fairy Ho, Ho Tai's daughter, came from Canton in South China. When she was born she had six hairs¹, on her head; at fourteen, in a dream, she heard a god telling her to eat "cloud mother stone" to become immortal. So she ate mica² powder and took the vow of virginity. Every day from morning to evening she winged her way over the hills and dales and returned home with fruit of the mountains for her mother. Later she stopped eating the food of mortals. When invited to court by the T'ang Empress Wu she disappeared. She was last seen rising to heaven in broad daylight³.

(From Hsien-chi, Record of the Genii, Ch. 1)

 

1. Six in Chinese gnostic numerology indicates the female sex.

2. Tun-mu shih

3. A folklore deification of a meteorological appearance of the Princess of Azure Clouds, Pi-hsia yuan-chun.

 

10.           Cyprus trees, dark and black in flower.

                To honour Kuan-yin I offer incense.

                Kuan-yin, do make

                My lover never desert me.

           (A song of Tan-ka boat people of the Canton area)

 

               

 

 

The Divine Mother, Sheng Mu, is the "Good Lady who sends sons", Sung-tzu Niang-niang. She wears a phoenix headdress and a mantle embroidered with eight trigrams; in the circle on the left is k'an (pond), with a full bar between two broken bars, a stylization of the ideograph for water, shui. The right trigram is ch'ien of male principle. The inscription on the collar band says the robe was presented in 1928 (the year wu-shen ). The great screen behind the goddess is decorated in high relief with six or more matronly figures attending Jade Emperor Yu Ti, the supreme Taoist deity, seated on the throne and encircled with clouds between two dragons. The tabernacle in front of the goddess is inscribed with the character hao of Bright Heaven.

 

 

 

Sheng Mu, the Divine Mother (see above) with head-dress and flowers, berries and tinkly bells, riding the mare ma rebus for ma mother. The suppliant has slipped a noose over the boy she wants.

 

 

 

The Good Lady who sends sons to her votaries (see above), with phoenix head-dress, pair of bead pendants, and cloud-pattern collar. She holds the vase of fertility, symbol of her engendering powers. Also known as the Azure-cloud Primordial Lady, Pi-hsia Yuan-chun, identified with Kuan-yin Pusa, the Buddhist goddess of mercy. The ideograph of Pi-hsia indicate iridescent colours of nacre or mother-of-pearl.