The Buddhist sutras all have their roots in story and even the most pedantically didactic ones have the canonical form of a narrative, with a preamble that sets the time, place, and occasion of the teaching, usually describes the course of the teaching and ends with the disciples' response to the teaching.  There are so many wonderful stories in the Buddhist scriptures, and I wish Diane Wolkstein could live forever to tell them all as effectively as she tells Journey to the West.  

The history of Buddhism is a cyclical tale of practical heart teaching becoming lost in head trips and intellectual esoterica and then being brought back to earth, again and again.  I don't doubt that Buddhism in the West will continue that cycle, and I think the way back is always through reclaiming the stories as stories.  Actually, I believe that this is what is going on in the creation of the Monkey King legend and its subsequent literary history.  The most important insights of the Buddha cannot be communicated intellectually - only experientially - and story is one way of taking us there to that place of experience.    

Once the Mahayana tradition(s) developed away from Source Buddhism (now represented only by the Theravada schools), the stories developed the cosmic dimensions in Journey to the West - wild tales full of magic, deities, demons, spells, inexplicable doings, paradox, mystery.  But underneath these fantastic cultural layers, runs the deep stream of the Buddha's teaching, like an subterranean river, swift and powerful.  During Ms. Wolkstein’s telling of Journey to the West, I could feel the power of that river.  The way she ended the story with the recitation of the Heart Sutra and its gatha of emptiness was very deeply right and perfect and an experience not available anywhere else.  Such an encouragement.

There is a concept in Buddhism called "skillful means."  It refers to the practice of teachers not to give the same teaching to every disciple but to give only the teaching that the disciple most needs.  The great Mahayana sutras (the Lotus Sutra, the Flower Garland Sutra, the Diamond Sutra) are a form of skillful means.  Set in the form of stories, they appear to be one thing but are actually bottomless, intricately crafted pools of meaning in which each listener can find her own depth.  (Only great literature, I think, can do this - hence they take the form of literature.)  To someone who has not yet started the path of reflection and self-knowledge, they are baroque oriental tales of adventure and magic.  To someone a little way down the path, they are devotional edification and moral tales.  To those farther down the path of experience, they are powerful expressions of internal truths.  This is what came through so beautifully Diane Wolkstein’s telling.  There were many moments of recognition for me.

One of the powerful experiences for me was Ms. Wolkstein’s depiction of Monkey King’s grief at being sent away by the implacable Tang Priest.  There in story form, literary form, dramatic form is the whole rich complex of questions summed up as "what does it mean to be a compassionate follower of the Buddha?"  If one understands the story as an extended account of the journey of the practitioner toward awakening, with the various characters representing energies in the inner world, then this scene is very recognizable as the irony of the practitioner who is so committed to his vow of non-harming that he harms himself.  In my tradition, rejection of the Monkey King part of the self would qualify as an act of killing - so one has the irony of Monkey King being "killed" for killing, and all in the name of purity.  How often have I wrestled with that in my life, both on and off the cushion!

I was also moved as the story progressed to see that Monkey King, who was pretty foolish and vain at the beginning, starts to "get it" and is actually the one who speaks the most wisdom by the end of the story.  

I loved what Diane did with the character of Guanyin.  I've been thinking about the importance of image in the practice.  Buddhism, like Christianity and Islam, was originally an "imageless" path.  The first images of the Buddha didn't appear for hundreds of years after his death, and I take that to mean that the early monks didn't approve of them or feel they were needed.  Most of us find them a really helpful tool.  Sometimes one can find an image that really captures the spirit of the subject or one that opens up a new side of a subject.  One of those for me is the transcendent image of Avalokiteshvara in the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City.  One comes up a flight of stairs, and there he is!  Larger than life.  Such a perfect integration of strength, nobility, compassion, poise, and wisdom.  It's like looking at Michelangelo's Pieta and discovering new dimensions of the relationship between Jesus and Mary.  Seeing Ms. Wolkstein’s enactment of Journey to the West had many such striking images for me.  Guanyin on the Lotus Throne.  The ferry to the other shore.  The beauties of Tushita Heaven.

What an exquisite delight to have encountered Diane and Monkey King!  A lotus for Diane Wolkstein, a buddha to be.

— John Snyder, Austin Montessori School

     June 14th, 2011