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Post by Shi Da Dao on Oct 12, 2016 6:41:32 GMT 1
Richard Hunn: 10th Anniversary of His PassingRichard Hunn (Upasaka Wen Shu) passed away on October 6th, 2006. He telephoned me in London from his home in Kyoto, Japan, around August of 2005, and during a general but precise conversation regarding Ch’an practice (in relation to the Hua Yen Sutra), he casually informed me that ‘parts of him were growing’ in places where they should not. At that time, he only elaborated because I insisted, and he further clarified that he had terminal (pancreatic) cancer. I suspected that something wasn’t quite right, as he had not been paying his yearly visit to the UK each autumn (with Japanese exchange students) since 2004. He said to me that now it was a matter of navigating his mind through the maze of sudden and dramatic psycho-physical processes, as the body started to slowly shut-down. Richard asked that I meditated for him every day, and project qi energy toward him through the ‘illusion’ of time and space. Of course, being thousands of miles away, I was not directly present during these difficult times for Richard – who was cared for by his wife Taeko. In December of 2005, Richard sent a Xmas card simply stating that ‘anything is possible’. He subsequently told me that he had asked for a qigong teacher to assist him in his transition from living to non-living. As I was packing my bag with the intention of travelling to Japan to be with Richard at the end – my ‘phone rang and his wife (Taeko) gently informed me that he had just passed. The point I would like to make is that Richard Hunn remained subtly ‘detached’ from the familial relations and the melodrama that surrounded his life circumstances during his illness and final demise. Yes – of course there was intense emotions of sadness, loss, grief, compassion, loving kindness and all kinds of attachments common within the bounds of lay society, but like the example set by Vimalakirti, Richard Hunn did not flinch or concretise around that which would hinder his onward journey. This is the side that I saw of him, and I think the side that meant the most for humanity. Richard certainly did not ‘reject’ his family or loved ones, and was entirely with them at the end, but he inhabited ‘form’ and ‘void’ equally, and how others perceived him depended entirely upon their state of mind at the time. To my mind, his exit was as important as his existence, and I suspect that out of respect for old Master Xu Yun (1840-1959), Richard Hunn wanted to leave around the same time of year.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Jan 23, 2017 11:44:43 GMT 1
On occasion, both myself and Richard Hunn would sit face to face about two meters apart - in cross-legged Ch'an meditation. This would be in the back room of my then house in Sutton - South London. Lengths of sessions would vary from between one hour to several days - with members of my family providing vegetarian food and drink at regular intervals. Richard would star each session with clapping together two wooden blocks - and the session would end with the same noise. The blocks were clapped in such a manner to make a loud and piercing 'noise' that 'cut-through' the mind, body and environment. Nothing was ever quite the same after these examples of 'one hand clapping'. as the qi energy settled, and all the six senses were returned to the empty mind ground (and al embracing mirror-mind), we would intuitively transition into 'linking' the three dantian energy centres (between and slightly above the eyes, the centre of the chest, and two inches beneath the naval). This was a practice from the Qianfeng School of Daoism involving two people - originally taught to Charles Luk by his Daoist teacher Zhao Bichen in the middle to late 1930's. The essential nature (jing) together with refined vital force (qi) were temporarily 'projected' and 'combined' to intermingle, purify and recede back into our respective psycho-physical structures. This cleared the qi energy channels and clarified insight whilst building health. This was an exercise of expansive awareness and intuitive insight. The point was not to create a mythological world to hide within, but rather to clear away engrained layers of psycho-physical pollution caused by decades of confusion and deluded conditioning. The expansive mind that developed, or that was already present, was 'empty', but yet included all things - this is the empty and all-embracing spirit known as 'shen'. I only started talking about these experiences when I was introduced to Master Zhao Ming Wang (b. 1966) of Beijing a few years ago, who subsequently recognised our lineage of Qianfeng transmission in the UK - which came from his great grandfather Zhao Bichen. We use the old method of 'respect' inspired training that does not depend upon monetary payment. As many people lack respect today, obviously very few are taught in this manner. This is compounded by a superficial attitude that treats Daoist knowledge as if it were items on a shopping list. This shallow approach is no good for profound Daoist learning, and much of what passes as 'Daoism' in the West is simply an intellectual fetish practised by individuals with no depth of character. This is not Daoism, but fetishism. Just as Western medicine requires both expertise and precise knowledge to be effective and to limit its dangerous effects, so does the practice of Chinese Daoism. Those who approach with ulterior motives are soon revealed in the light of exact questioning and no more words are uttered.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Feb 22, 2017 17:29:52 GMT 1
The last film I watched with Richard Hunn was the original putonghua version of the Chinese film 'Hero'. Richard advised that we should be like the old calligraphy master because his insight transcended the art that had created it:
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Apr 12, 2017 6:41:02 GMT 1
The persona of Richard Hunn represented a ‘double-edged’ sword. On the one hand, he was quiet, charming and engaging, whilst on the other, he was a precise, no nonsense task master. He was quite happy with (and interested in) the opinions of others, viewing all the differences of approach and interpretation as the buoyant diversity inherent in the academic process that is the cut of thrust of intellectual debate. However, if an individual had the good fortune to train under him, then things were very different. In the case of the ‘teacher – student’ dichotomy, Richard Hunn very much ‘knew’ what he ‘knew’, and the student ‘did not’. The student had to quite literally ‘empty’ him or herself of ‘all’ preconceptions, and learn everything anew. Apparently, this model followed the ancient Chinese method of building a hexagram from the base up – as used in the Book of Changes (Yijing), also known as the ‘Changes of Zhou’. If the foundation is not correct and firm, the entire structure will be ‘weak’ and prone to collapse at any moment. Richard Hunn pursued the accumulation of knowledge very carefully and with good cause. He was dedicated to revealing and transmitting good quality information that was ‘useful’ in and of itself to the current and future generations. Richard Hunn also felt that he needed to pay a debt of gratitude to his teacher Charles Luk, and to Master Xu Yun, and this methodical (and careful) approach was very much part of repaying that perceived debt. Of course, as with any good teacher, Richard Hunn could be demanding at times, even harsh, but it was always geared toward the common aim of understanding things correctly, and being able to transfer that understanding to others efficiently. His standards for translating Chinese concepts into English were ridiculously ‘high’, but this was because he cared about what the Chinese people thought about his efforts – after-all (he told me), we are dabbling in their culture, and we must remain both ‘virtuous’ and ‘correct’ in our efforts. He also stated that despite our best efforts, mistakes will be made. When this happens, we should clearly acknowledge these mistakes, correct them with humility, and progressively move on – never living in the past, or becoming egotistically ‘entangled’ with others.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Apr 24, 2017 6:36:45 GMT 1
The motivation to produce good and useful work should not be motivated by profit alone, but rather by the ideas of continuous self-improvement, and the manufacture of a product that is of some extra use to humanity (primarily through individual development). This is the exact purpose of translating Chinese texts into a reliable English. Of course, others may or may not offer a financial incentive for this highly-skilled and time-consuming work, but the presence or absence of this incentive should not be the defining reason ‘why’ the work is carried-out. Both Ch’an Master Xu Yun (1840-1959) and Daoist Master Zhao Bichen (1860-1942) rejected the notion of blatant and naked monetary profit as a good enough (or truly ‘virtuous’) reason to do anything worthwhile, telling or long-lasting. Xu Yun, of course, was a Buddhist monk who strictly followed the Vinaya Discipline, and although he sometimes acted as a conduit for collecting funds to renovate temples and relieve poverty amongst the people, he possessed nothing for himself. Zhao Bichen was a lay-Daoist who worked for a living (as both a salt tax-collector and bodyguard) as a means to feed himself and his family, and yet despite this economic imperative (i.e. work or starve), he chose to teach anyone regardless of their social background, wealth, status or ability to pay. Richard Hunn once explained this selfless attitude to me as providing the means for others to self-develop without the economic imperative getting in the way. Yes, others might well pay with money, time, books, precious items, sincerity, kindness, attentiveness, hard work, or any number of ways, but this should not be the reason for teaching. An economically poor person might well possess a more virtuous character than a person with easy access to wealth – either way the interaction should be toward ‘transcendence’ of current circumstances, and not concretisation through the insistence upon convention. Is this an easy task to fulfil? Obviously not, as many times such a teacher must accept a simple life premised upon living in a state of voluntary poverty. In such an existence, it is cultural knowledge and the ability to ‘see’ what others cannot see that is the common currency.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on May 17, 2017 9:08:25 GMT 1
When Richard Hunn first went to live in Japan (in the early 1990's), and before he got re-married, he used to spend his spare-time travelling to Japan's spiritually significant areas, as part of his general academic research programme (broadly covering the topic of Chinese cultural influence in Japan). Oneday, and without much preparation or fore-thought, Richard Hunn decided to visit (and climb) Mount Fuji. Whilst en route, a heavy snowfall developed, but Richard carried-on regardless. Eventually, as the snow was rising toward his knees, he was stopped by a police officer who asked hi what he was doing. After explaining his intention to pay homage to the holiest site in Japan, the police officer took Richard to the local police station - where he sat talking to the chief of police for a few hours. When the chief was satisfied that Richard was not mad - or had any criminal intent - he ordered a police car to drive Richard to the peak of Mount Fuji! Richard told me he was motived by tales of Manjushri (Wen Shu) who wondered around the remote Chinese mountains - helping anyone who required assistance. Whilst climbing through the cold snow, Richard focused upon the hua tou 'Who is cold?' and carried-on!
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Feb 23, 2018 7:41:54 GMT 1
Richard Hunn (1949-2006) was a very clear-cut British academic. He could sit in Ch’an meditation for hours on end, or lecture whilst wondering around a classroom. He had a relaxed manner, but was very precise when considering the origin, purpose and function of knowledge. In this time of disinformation, assessing the validity of knowledge is of paramount importance. How is this to be done? Of course, there is ‘opinion’, but an opinion is not necessarily a fact. Richard Hunn would listen to my arguments and then ask me to a) define my terms, and b) provide suitable and reliable sources and references to ‘prove’ the validity of what I was saying. He taught me that this was particularly important for assessing information regarding Mainland China in the West. As there is much disinformation in the West about China that has no basis within academic fact, it is important to discern what is a correct fact and what is an incorrect or misleading fact. The point is this, whenever a disinformed fact is expressed within a Western language that presents China, her people and her culture in a negative light, ask for the Mainland Chinese language reference or source. If a supposed ‘fact’ about China written in the English language has no Mainland Chinese language reference or source, then it is not a ‘fact’ about China. This disinformation, when not taken at face value, can logically be proven as not originating within Mainland Chinese culture.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Mar 30, 2018 20:22:34 GMT 1
Gee Wyles, myself (Adrian Chan-Wyles) and Richard Hunn (1949-2006), together with Curly the rescued Greyhound (Sutton - 2004). Richard Hunn was a very able Sinologist who trained personally under Charles Luk (1898-1978). He travelled widely and was respected just as much within the Chinese community as he was in the West! He possesed a compassionate heart and an agile mind. He believed that Ch'an training should be authentic in essence, and effective in function. The choices we make in life are important for the evolution of humanity.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Jun 5, 2018 5:46:08 GMT 1
Following Master Xu Yun's InstructionsRichard Hunn stated that we need is an online forum that acts as a ‘stiller of the mind’, regardless of what is a) going on in the world, and b) what is happening in the lives of individuals. Originally, he, myself and one or two others sat at the computer keyboard late at night or early in the morning (before or after the day’s activities had been completed), and copy typed extracts of Ch’an and Zen Teaching: Volume I, II, and III, (usually following Richard Hunn’s instructions), and publish sayings, dialogues and instructions. The point of this has always been to generate the conditions for self-reliance and instruction at a distance, two age-old Ch’an attributes often obscured by the fraudulent schools and fake teachers of the modern era, and the charging of large sums of money for what basically amounts to ‘communal breathing’. Master Xu Yun (1840-1959), instructed his disciple Charles Luk (1898-1978), that the Dharma should always be taught ‘free of charge’, in-line with the historical Buddha’s preference. That is why this forum ( and its main webpage presence) has never raised funds, or asked for donations. Richard Hunn (1949-2006) stressed that this is the mission he was entrusted with from his teacher – Charles Luk – and which we have been entrusted with in the UK. This forum is simple, straightforward and easy to use. Although it is true that since establishing it in September, 2004, we have, on occasion been approached by individuals and businesses with offers of monetarising its functionality, we have point-blank refused. Turning this forum into a fee-paying entity will defy Master Xu Yun’s original instruction, and exclude the very ordinary people Master Xu Yun wanted to reach. This is why this forum, for as long as it is allowed to exist, will always remain ‘free at the point of use’.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Jun 17, 2018 17:18:44 GMT 1
Penetrating the Centre of the TargetOne of the great ironies known by all Ch’an masters, is that a sincere practitioner must accumulate reliable knowledge about the Ch’an method, establish a good practice, and demonstrate both understanding and progression, whilst remaining simultaneously ‘non-attached’ to words and sentences, and disinterested in worldly affairs. Of course, simply by looking around (wherever your physical existence happens to be), it will become self-evident that much of what generally passes as ‘Buddhism’ today, does not adhere to these guidelines, and more particularly, virtually everything that refers to itself as ‘Ch’an’ has only what might be better described as a ‘nodding acquaintance’ to the true Ch’an method. This is why Master Xu Yun (1840-1959) was a wise and stern disciplinarian when it came to teaching Ch’an properly. On the 4th day of a Ch’an Week held at the Jade Monastery at Shanghai (which had commenced on the 22.2.1953), Master Xu Yun advised: ‘We are here to inquire into the hua-tou which is the way we should follow. Our purpose is to be clear about birth and death and to attain Buddhahood. In order to be clear about birth and death, we must have recourse to this hua-tou which should be used as the Vajra King’s precious sword to cut down demons if demons come and Buddhas if Buddhas come so that no feelings will remain and not a single thing (Dharma) can be set up. In such a manner, where could there have been wrong thinking about writing poems and gathas and seeing such states as voidness and brightness? If you made your efforts so wrongly, I really do not know where your hua-tou went. Experienced Ch’an monks do not require further talks about this, but beginners should be very careful.’Corrupt Buddhism (and bad Ch’an) establish ‘distinctions’ premised upon the functioning of the dualistic (deluded) mind. This is the establishing of (false) Dharma(s) in both senses of that interesting word. It is the process of fabricating a distorted version of the Buddha’s teachings (for endless and nefarious reasons), and establishing a fake Ch’an narrative that can certainly be described as an ‘anti-Ch’an’ construction. How can practitioners be freed from the dualistic functionality of their minds, when the deficient method they are being taught originates in the very essence of its corruption? Striving for voidness is not Ch’an. Striving for brightness is not Ch’an. Being attached to the hua-tou is not Ch’an. Writing great poems with fine words is not Ch’an. Outwardly mimicking the Ch’an tradition is not Ch’an. Staying in the West or flying China is not Ch’an. Nothing the dualistic mind can conjure up, with all its multitudinous variations, is an answer to its own partiality and suffering inducing functionality. Master Xu Yun was concerned about practitioners becoming attached to extremes and simply residing in one aspect of the dualistic mind, whilst mistaking this error for true enlightenment. After all these pointless words are expressed, we all eventually arrive back at the wisdom which states we should not be attached to the void (after we have found the void), nor hindered by the circumstances of the material world (after we have become non-attached whilst in the midst of phenomena). This is why Ch’an masters were reticent in using words to describe a reality that lies just beyond the reach of the expression of literature… Be strong in your practice and draw eternal strength from this forum and its ancient lineage. Although you may be physically alone, remember that historically, you are in the company of millions.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Jul 21, 2018 16:04:20 GMT 1
Halting the Mind During ArcheryI was discussing Japanese archery (Kyudo - 弓道 – or ‘Gong Dao’ in China, literally ‘Bow Way’) with Richard Hunn (which he practised with his wife at a local dojo in Kyoto), and its relevance to Ch’an. Richard explained that Kyudo was probably a style of Chinese archery now long extinct in its home country, full of Confucian ritual and self-control. Its purpose is to instil a sense of discipline and patience in a practitioner, so that ‘caution’ and not ‘haste’ becomes a natural character trait. This attribute is often considered vitally important within the field of politics, as misreading a situation can lead to all kinds of unforeseen circumstances. Once the arrow is fired, it is too late to call it back. As political decisions often involve the multitudes, once policies are initiated it is very difficult to stop or change direction. A policy once unleashed upon the world, usually must be seen through to its natural end. Therefore, we keep our minds empty and calm even before we pick-up the bow and arrow; we keep our minds empty and calm even before we load the arrow; and we keep our minds empty and calm even before we take aim. At every point prior to the release of the arrow, we can simply ‘stop’ the activity and place the bow and arrow in its storage space. As for making the mind empty and calm, we must turn all perception and sensation back to its empty origination in all situations (hua tou). If this is done successfully, then the empty mind is re-discovered, and all is empty and full - simultaneously - and without contradiction. I asked Richard what happens if the empty mind ground is not realised? Richard replied ‘In that case, we become masters of a physical ritual ‘empty’ of any true or real meaning. This is like many modern martial artists who learn and repeat physical movements in a set order, but whose characters are undeveloped, selfish and lack true spiritual brightness.’ When the bow (and the breath) is expanded – all sensation is traced to its empty (perceptual) origin. When the bow (and the breath) is released – all sensation is traced to its empty (perceptual) origin. As the arrow travels toward the target – all thoughts of success and failure are returned to the empty (perceptual) origin. Eventually, although the body may move through a set of conditioned exercises to draw and fire the bow, the mind remains still, empty, calm, expansive and all-embracing as described in the Surangama Sutra. No undue attention is given to the arrow hitting the target – it will reach its destination in due course.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Dec 3, 2018 7:04:59 GMT 1
Traditional modes of training, be they the Welsh Druids or the Chinese Daoists, etc, exist as methods that ‘free’ the individual. Just what it is that we are freed from is a good question. It varies, of course, from one culture to the next, and even from one group to the next (within any given culture), but most people think they should be somewhere other than where they are. Buddhists are the same, Chinese Buddhists particularly so. I find Ch’an interesting because whilst radically facilitating our ‘escape’, it also (just as radically) confirms that we are all exactly where we are supposed to be! You ask about my ‘teaching Ch’an’ in Japan, well the Japanese have their own systems, and I only dabble on the periphery. Although it is true that wherever I can be of assistance, I will drop the odd word, but all this comes down to people ‘freeing’ themselves when given the appropriate stimulus. We convey the method, but the method works all on its own. It is a set of dialectical pressures that internally work to free the functioning mind of its inherent contradictions. You only have to read the great Ch’an masters to see this process in operation. One aspect is emphasised whilst another is negated – the negated is re-emphasised and the familiar dismissed. Both are brought out and each is radically dismissed – and on it goes. This is Nagarjuna’s tetralemma in operation – which is just as well as he was the 14th Ch’an Patriarch! Telephone Conversation: Kyoto-London (December - 2000)
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Dec 12, 2018 6:40:42 GMT 1
There’s too much of this sort of thing, you know, smiling Buddhist monks peddling their latest book, all implying somekind of ‘magic pill’ for life’s ills. When you dig a little deeper, much of this is what I refer to as ‘sham Dharma’ – all orange robes and no substance. How is that these supposedly poverty-stricken men (and occasionally women) are so well connected in the publishing industry and have access to publicists and agents? All very suspicious. Since when was being a poverty-stricken Buddhist monastic in Forbes’ top one hundred of the wealthiest or influential people in the (non-Buddhist) Western world? People in the West should be more discerning in their intellectual and spiritual pursuits. The best Buddhist monastics I have ever met live in the back of beyond (usually in a cave or thatched hut), wear thread-bare robes and quite literally ‘gave-up’ the world when they entered the Ordained Sangha. As regards navigating the world of commerce these men and women have most certainly burnt all their bridges, as a genuine application of the Vinaya Discipline does not even allow the handling of gold and silver, and certainly forbids any form of labour performed in exchange for cash payment (as ALL psychological and physical labour is performed with a mind free of greed, hatred and delusion, motivated by compassion and loving kindness). Indeed, freeing others of their suffering is in no way similar to freeing others of their money! Western Ch’an practitioners should treat this as a special ‘gong-an’ suitable for this Dharma-ending age. (We had travelled to Kingston-Upon-Thames on the 213 BUS from Sutton in Winter2002. Once there, we sat with a cup of coffee in what used to be the very large Borders Bookshop)
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Dec 27, 2018 19:21:15 GMT 1
The Five Ranks Richard Hunn, in a letter, explained that Japanese Zen tended to view the ‘Five Positions’ of the Caodong (Soto) School of Chinese Ch’an – as being a stratified system of ‘ranking’ similar to the coloured belts found in Judo (and other Japanese martial arts – whereby a Zen disciple passes upwards (from one rank to the next) when certain koan (gong-an) ‘tests’ set by the master are successfully ‘passed’. Although this is the established method in Japan (because it reflects the state of Japanese feudalism and militarism at the time of transmission) and is perfectly ‘valid’ within the context of Japanese culture, this is not the interpretation within the tradition of Chinese Ch’an. Yes, on the surface the ‘Five Positions’ reflect how a ‘noble lord’ and a ‘government minister’ carefully interact within one another, there is no implied (lineal) progression from rank 1 to rank 5 – with each ‘rank’ appearing as appearing (or ‘manifesting’) in isolation from the other 4 ranks (or positions). In reality each ‘position’ (or ‘rank’) contains the other 4 ‘ranks’ (or ‘positions’) as each has as its base the formless ‘empty mind round’. Furthermore, the five strata are in fact a ‘triad’ with ranks 1 – 2 reflecting one another whilst transitioning (rank 3) into ranks 4- 5 (which also reflect one another). In practical terms of attainment this manifests as: 1) The understanding and realisation (through correct practice and discipline) that form contains void and void contains form (ranks 1 – 2). 2) The resurgence of the ‘real’ or the penetration and realisation of the profound void (often associated with the ‘relative enlightenment’ of the Hinayana School). Although a very important realisation that breaks the cycle of karmic accumulation, it is maintained only within certain ‘ideal’ conditions and is not yet ‘all-embracing’. This attainment is represented by ‘rank 3’. 3) The realisation of ‘full enlightenment’ (ranks 4 – 5) is symbolised by the manifestation of a permanent and all-embracing mind-awareness that is not dependent upon any circumstances or situations. Such an adept is neither attached to the void (real) or hindered by form (seeming). Form is thoroughly integrated with void – and void fully integrated with form so that reality to not limited to a monad (oneness) or a duality (the world of separate and multitudinous forms). As a Ch’an master can facilitate a deep or shallow enlightenment in their disciples at any one time (depending upon psychological and material circumstance), it logically follows that the 5 ranks or positions are not stratified ‘grades’ such as those found within Japanese martial arts. Although a Chinese Ch’an master understood the strict Confucian of the Chinese imperial system within which he or she existed, nevertheless, many Ch’an masters lived in a thoroughly ‘detached’ manner with no interest in seeking promotion on the one hand (within conventional society), or in fear of censure and punishment on the other, for not participating within the ‘delusions’ of the day.
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Post by Shi Da Dao on Apr 26, 2019 20:09:47 GMT 1
Richard Hunn (1949-2006) could be a hard task master with regards academic learning, but he was very much aware of not getting caught in the conditioned rolls associated with material existence. He knew what he knew – but was always aware that there was more to learn. Toward the end of his life he became much softer in his ‘knowing’ and was very interested in the Welsh bards and Daoist Immortals. I remember him lying across the bench in my back garden in South London – reading a book of Welsh (Celtic) poems... The point in those day was that I would go forward and carry out more indepth research regarding Master Xu Yun (1840-1959) using my family contacts in China and the ever-growing number of Chinese Citizens making my acquaintance whilst visiting the UK. As matters transpired, this research has been fully supported by the Chinese State and I have been given full access and assistance in this endeavour. Richard Hunn would be pleased with this as it was his objective during his lifetime. All this is motivated by a deep love for humanity.
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