“My Dear Brother Matthew…”

15 August 1973

My dear brother Matthew:

The dharma brought you to me six months ago in the form of your visit with those two journalists; Sheila and Lynn brought you to me to be trained by me, but you and I both now know we were brought together to teach each other. In the truest form of Zen, the student raises up the master, while simultaneously the master elevates the student. The question asked in student's innocence jolts the master into satori (or so say some of the Rinzai school), while the master's instruction (or indeed a blow from their keisaku) jolts the student into awareness. But in truth this instruction is and should be mutual. I am hoping you can bring to me enlightenment on what I've seen and felt and experienced. I have included sketches of some of the parts of my experience, perhaps these can help you in understanding the Lord of the House's intent and teaching.

Matthew, your energetically ministering to me, bringing me from the brink of terrible illness, perhaps even death, was just such a blow that put me back on the Lord of the House's right path. Your gift pulled me away from a set of dangers seen as through a glass darkly; whether these were illusions set in place by my suffering, or a true kenshō, will take days, weeks of meditation to divine truly. But this all happened, what you are about to read, in the few moments between my pain and gross discomfort and your removing your hands from me. A flash of insight, the expatiation of my doubt, my drive towards self-destruction... all was illustrated to me in this moment on the edge of the void. Whether your healing brought me into the light or not, you deserve to hear the whole story.

In my vision before your healing ministration, I found myself at the top of a mountain. It was not Shasta, it was not Fujiyama, but instead an odd, nearly rectangular mountain, almost like a tower, surmounted with slippery glass cliff faces. The glass is volcanic: glossy black or the dark grey of dirty snow. I know that prior to my entering this visionary state, I have climbed up these jagged glass walls; my hands and body are cut with keen, razor-sharp incisions, my kesa spotted with blood. This mountain is existence, life, the struggle against falling prey to suffering, to illusions. The pain is nothing. I must climb on.

At this summit, which was shaved flat, like a plaza, I saw two shapes which could not possibly exist in reality but fit into the world of illusion and dream as if perfectly natural. Still on hands and knees I move on until, in front of me. there looms a great, black lotus; it towers high above me, huge, incredible. Within me a voice whispers, "Be careful,—be very careful. Remember, nothing matters." Upon the side of the lotus is written in dull, yet glowing, red, "NOTHING MATTERS." Ahead and to the left I perceive dimly a giant, iron pillar that I know penetrates the universe. A taunting voice inside me says, "Better by far to jump into that great, black lotus, to enter the abyss of despair. What point is there in going on, bleeding and cut and torn? Jump in, why not?" The first voice says, "You have no reason to do that." The other says, "Why not?" "There is a beautiful tree outside; it is a beautiful evening." "What have I to do with these things?" I reply. "What is the point?" A voice comes from the pillar, "It is not my problem that you fall into despair; it does not matter to me that you die. I am eternal. It does not matter in the least if you should die. Go ahead if you wish; jump into the abyss." "But I do not want to die!" I cry, "I do not want to die!" I draw back from the abyss, from the great, black lotus towering in front of me. Remember, nothing matters.... Remember, nothing matters.... Remember the scriptures—Mindfulness is all—over the mountains, up to this black abyss, that which matters most—mindfulness is all — AND—nothing matters. The scriptures must be taken literally, for they were obtained at death's door.

Directly ahead of me is the great, iron pillar, penetrating the universe. From a great distance a bright light flashes, hitting the pillar. This is the road to heaven. I have said no to the abyss, cleansed my heart of its past wrong-doing; I can go into this bright, beautiful light. It flashes on the pillar and descends; each flash is a life as it flies by into heaven. Let me go quickly into this beautiful heaven; let me be there quickly. The flashes grow faster and faster, faster and faster. I am drawn more and more into it; I want to enter it; I want to be there; I want to make an end. But what is this that I see? This is the same as hell; this is the same as the abyss. The light does not enter the pillar; it goes off into blackness; it flashes, goes out and disappears. I might as well go into the abyss. These are opposites, the abyss and this flashing light. They are the same as all the other opposites; I want no part of them. This is a more dangerous place than the abyss; the flashes seem to radiate truth and beauty but are nothing other than the most dangerous of all opposites. I do not wish to flash into darkness; I do not wish to die for this, indeed, will be real death. "Never come too close nor put yourself too far away," —never come too close to heaven lest you be fascinated by it. I halt my steps; the pillar remains silent. The flashing grows slower; the pillar moves aside. Before me stretches a great, vast blackness... a great, vast blackness.

In rejecting both these paths—the Abyss and the Pillar—I have been vouchsafed a much fuller vision of the universe. The darkness parts, and I see in a flurry all my past lives: I see a very old European Christian monk; he is very happy, he has left behind no unclean impregnations. Behind him is a Chinese Buddhist monk; he too is happy with nothing unclean left behind. Further and further back I go. An old Japanese monk is seen with bushy eyebrows and a stern expression but he, too, has left no trace behind him. Behind him stands a fierce Tartar but he is clean—and weaving in and out between them all is a sad and beautiful woman from the late eighteen-hundreds. Her eyes do not show the peace that do the eyes of the others. Here is something with which I must deal. "Oh, unhappy woman, you are not me; all that is left of you is with me. Let me know what you have done; let me understand what causes you to still be so sad." Before me I see her actions and understand the confusion she felt at her death. I recognise in me the impregnations these actions have left and resolve to be aware of, and learn from, her mistakes for my skhandas possess tiny seeds which may be germinated by the karma of former lives. When I purify this karma these seeds cannot germinate. This woman was religious and, when dying in a foreign country, longed to hear the absolution of her sins in her mother tongue but no priest who spoke it could be found. To bring her peace I recite the absolution for her but some confusion over past acts still remains for Christian doctrine does not well under-stand the Law of Karma. "I will do what I can to ease your mind. I embrace you. You must forgive all those who wronged or harmed you and you must take refuge in the Buddha, refuge in the Dharma, refuge in the Sangha. Because of your ignorance of the Four Noble Truths of the Lord of the House, the existence of suffering, suffering's cause, the cessation of suffering and the Noble Eightfold Path, you performed acts which had horrible results. If you had known these Truths, you would have understood the Law of Karma which teaches that every cause has an effect and you would not have committed these acts. Because of your igno-rance and confusion concerning this at the time of your death, what had been your karma caused me to come into existence. The purpose of my life until now has been the conversion of your ignorance. Now that this conversion has been accomplished the root of your karma has been cut and the time of repayment is over. This conversion is acknowledged by the Lord of the House and witnessed by this pure-hearted congregation. By the guidance of the Buddhas and Patriarchs you have discarded and purified all your karma of body, mouth and will and obtained great immaculacy. This is by the power of conversion. The purpose of our life in the future is the good of all beings. I do not turn away from you. Let us, together with all beings, take Refuge in the Buddha, Refuge in the Dharma, Refuge in the Sangha. You should know that 'only volition is the doer of karma, and only feeling is the reaper of karma. In the ultimate sense, No doer is there who does the deed, Nor is there one who feels the fruit.” Her eyes are now clear and pure and full of joy; a great peace descends. This is the end of past karma on the human plane. Down the centuries I have been a monk so many times; fifteen times Christian, fourteen Buddhist, sometimes male, sometimes female. Now must come the karma from lives in the formless realms and from animal lives; it is my duty to go on. All that which I did in past lives, in all worlds, all must be cleansed away before I can become one with the Eternal Lord. 

Upon the formless plane once there raged a great battle wherein I was gravely injured; unto this day I bear the psychic wounds. These must be healed by those who inflicted them not because they will not heal of themselves but because I must give an opportunity to convert themselves from their former evil to those who caused them. This I have done. One key life, that of a great white tiger, still remains to be seen but this is not yet to be. The hordes of Mara,—I hear them, I hear them. My resolve is strong, I will not flinch. This I know and go on unafraid for, if there is fear, then there is no way of becoming one with the Lord.

As I meditate upon this battle, within me, at ajna and at sacral chakra, are these manifold lotuses upon rest an imprint of the Lord of the House. The white lotus at my ajna unfolds into a whirling spinning shape, orbiting the light of the Lord of the House through many dimensions, many of which I cannot see except as emotional aggregates: fear, love, desire, disgust, regret. All illusions which prevent me from seeing these dimensions' fundamental interconnectedness. All these lives are available to me, all can fight in the war against illusion and the demons who stalk us, all are one, all are one. The red ribbon which whirls and connects these lives is the wheel of Dharma, seen through these multiple dimensions. The ribbon can take any shape or form, for ever turning, for ever moving. The beings are upon the red ribbon, here appearing as human, there as animal, god, insect, rising, falling, ever moving, never resting, nothing excluded. The Light of the Lord of the House, the heart-mind, irradiates the infinity of space—within its centre I may not say that it is empty; I may not say that it is not empty. It is unstained, immaculate; I am not It, It is all of me; thus form is void and void is form. When I allow external things to influence me endless space takes on endless colours and forms that titillate or terrify my senses; when I am still these shapes, which are the shapes of fear and the negative side of desire, have no means of manifesting themselves. Desire and craving are but respectable names for fear; I must remember this. They shall not enslave me again. Nothing is born, nothing dies. We shape our fears from emptiness and unto emptiness they must return. The only seemingly real emptiness is fear; the Lord enfolds emptiness and is not empty nor is not not empty. Within the Lord all senses, form, thought, all things, cease and nothing ceases; there are neither old age nor death and there is no ceasing of old age and death as the world understands them. One undertakes meditation when one is young so as to make some sense out of life or to escape death. The Lord promises us small presents so that He may give us our true inheritance. Life and death, body and mind, fall away naturally for they no longer apply. There is no extinction of old age and death. If life comes there is only life; if death comes there is only death. All acceptance is the key that unlocks the gateless gate. Within this place there is no suffering, no coming, no going, no ceasing, no way. There is only endless training, appear-ing here, disappearing there, going in and out, always BECOMING Buddha. The Wheel turns endlessly, the Precepts and the Eightfold Path are far behind as tools used by a carpenter are put away when a building is completed but never discarded lest they be needed again. The Wheel of the Law, the Wheel of Becoming—it is I who turn the Wheel of the Law—the Wheel of the Law, the heart-mind, the Lord of the House and I are one. I am not Them; They are all of me; form is void; void is form—say not void, say not form. Om, to the One who leaps beyond all fear; Awakened, awakened, I have awakened. O merciful One, compassionate One, of daring ones the most joyous, hail! Thou hast the Wheel within Thine hand, hail! Thou Who hast the lotus, hail! Hail to Thee Who art the root of eternity! Hail to Thee Who art all compassion, hail!

Your sister,

Jiyu Kennett