Where so many other men have failed, he has succeeded, and succeeded brilliantly. Suzuki was a master at teaching by example and anecdote, and this book is a good example of that technique. .
As he describes so well in An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, Suzuki's own realization of who he really was, his grasping of the fundamental principle of existence, came when he was only twenty-six years old. He had been studying Zen for some years but without much success, and was increasingly demoralized by his failure to reach the enlightenment he so fervently sought. Then, in 1896, he was selected by his renowned teacher, Soyen Shaku, to go to North America to help translate the classic text, the Tao Te Ching, into English. (Suzuki 54) .
The pressure of his imminent departure turned out to be what was needed. Suzuki realized that the Zen retreat scheduled for just before he was due to leave Japan might be his very last opportunity, in the immediate future at least, of solving the koan he was working on. Determined to solve the puzzle, he redoubled his efforts and threw all his energies into one final attempt to reach an understanding of the concept that had thus far eluded him. .
Up until then he had been conscious of the koan in his mind. But to be conscious of Mu is to be separate from it. Towards the end of his stay at the Zen retreat, on about the fifth day, he ceased to be conscious of Mu and understood that he was one with Mu, and identified with Mu, so that there was no longer the separateness implied by being conscious of Mu.
Suzuki explains in the book that this was samadhi, but that samadhi is not enough. One must come out of that state, be awakened from it, and that awakening is wisdom. That moment of coming out of the samadhi and seeing it for what it is "that is satori. He relates that his first thought as he was awakened from that state of deep samadhi by the sound of a small hand bell being struck, was that he finally understood the concept at long last.
