Empowerment Teachings by Master Yuan Yin in the United States, 1997

On Tantra (1): The Stages of Tantric Practice

Among Buddhists it is common to slander one another; without noticing it, karma is created. Pure Land practitioners who do not understand Vajrayāna sometimes rashly say, “Tantra is a ghost-and-spirit cult; only Pure Land is best.” In the Northeast I once heard Master XX declare that Tantra is the worst. He is an impressive master. After hearing him, I asked, “You cultivate Pure Land—do you recite mantras? The Great Compassion Dhāraṇī? The Rebirth Dhāraṇī? The Ten Small Mantras?” He replied, “Yes.” I said, “Are those not tantric mantras? You yourself cannot dispense with Tantra; to slander the Dharma incurs fault!” Even Master Hongyi of the Vinaya school once said Tantra was a ghost-and-spirit cult; later, after he read complete tantric materials, he realized how thorough Tantra is—from shallow to profound, from lesser to great—and that it is not two from Chan. He recognized his mistake and wrote a confession, included in his collected writings.

These are the words of people who do not understand Tantra, speaking carelessly and knowing only their own approach. Is Tantra a ghost-and-spirit cult? At the very beginning there can indeed be a flavor of gods and spirits; Tibetans, having coarser faculties, respond to a little mystery and “resonance.” If they seek mystery, deity rites are quicker; if they study Dharma, it is slower. But later Tantra has nothing to do with gods and spirits. Tantra teaches the nine vehicles, nine steps of practice. It begins with the outer three vehicles—the exoteric teachings of Śrāvaka, Pratyekabuddha, and Bodhisattva—which must be understood before cultivating the inner three vehicles. The inner three are actual cultivation: having grasped the doctrine, one then practises mantra. There are methods to dispel karmic obstacles, avert calamities, heal illness, and even attract wealth—the wealth-deity practices are deity rites, so “spirit” methods exist at the outset. But later come consummate teachings: for example, the Mahāmudrā of the Tibetan Kagyu (White) school is entirely identical in meaning with Chan. Mahāmudrā speaks of view, meditation, and conduct: first recognizing one’s nature; recognizing it brings concentration—knowing all worldly things are illusory shows there is no need to chase after them. With right view, conduct accords with the Way and the precepts are naturally upheld. Within concentration one cultivates the great method, purifies habitual tendencies, and realizes sainthood—exactly what Chan teaches. The Nyingma (Red) school’s Great Perfection (Dzogchen) is likewise so. Our body has five lights; outside are five lights; outer lights stimulate inner lights until the whole body becomes a body of light—yet one must not attach to that. The Red teachings state clearly: even if one attains the rainbow-body of light, if one clings to it, one is still but a roaming spirit in the cosmos; one has not attained the Way. One must dissolve even the rainbow light; only then is there supreme ascent—this matches Chan’s “the Dharma-body going beyond.” Chan speaks of breaking three barriers; the last, the prison-barrier, is “the Dharma-body going beyond”: great spiritual powers without dwelling in powers, no Buddha to be made, clinging to nothing at all.

On Tantra (2): Opening the Wisdom Treasury

On the mainland nowadays, there is a tendency toward Tantra. Many misunderstand, thinking Tantra means secrecy or the display of powers, or a ghost-and-spirit path. This is wrong. The “secret” of Tantra is opening the sealed treasury of wisdom to see our original face. Where is that original face? Unknown. Scientists and physicians may dissect the heart and brain yet never find it, for our wondrous suchness is signless; from the standpoint of form it cannot be seen. “Speech is cut off; the path of mind and cognition ceases”—this is truth. Hence the Consciousness-only school says “person-emptiness and dharma-emptiness”; the twofold emptiness is called suchness, an abstract truth. The Madhyamaka masters say “dependent origination, empty in nature”: all things lack self-nature; compounded by causes and conditions, they have no inherent essence. This empty nature—mind empty, the truth of suchness, the Buddha-nature—this is exactly what Tantra points to. By means of the three mysteries—body, speech, and mind—acting as blessings, our mind is opened and we see our original face. To open the secret treasure—that is Tantra. It is not secrecy for its own sake, nor a show of psychic powers. The Buddha also said: in the degenerate age, beings’ karmic obstructions are heavy; Tantra is most fitting—without the blessings of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, success in cultivation is difficult.

Amid this “Tantra fever,” a certain master published essays in Dharma Sound (Beijing), discussing issues in cultivation within the trend. The “Tantra fever” generally points to learning Tibetan Vajrayāna; yet Tibetan methods are not necessarily suitable for Han Chinese, for they were cast in the mold of Tibetan customs and cultural level. From the four or five preliminary practices onward—one hundred thousand full prostrations; one hundred thousand recitations of the Hundred-Syllable Mantra; one hundred thousand maṇḍala offerings; one hundred thousand refuge formulas—one first does preliminaries and only then the main practices. This is like taking a long detour! The Han tradition has its Confucian-Buddhist-Daoist inheritance and solid roots; there is no need to learn exclusively from Tibetans.

China has its own esoteric tradition. In the Tang there was Tang-Mi; Master Huiguo transmitted to Kūkai of Japan, whence Tō-Mi (Shingon) continues today. In the Ming under Zhu Yuanzhang, Chinese Tantra was entirely suppressed; fearing displays of spiritual power might threaten the throne, he forbade its transmission. What we transmit now as the Heart-Center Dharma (Xīnzhōngxīn Fǎ) descends from the Tang—an old transmission, not a modern invention. Its textual basis is found in the Canon, in the section connected with the Cundī Dhāraṇī Sūtra; it is a Chinese esoteric method that points directly to mind, enabling one to see one’s nature and become Buddha. It lets you personally see your original suchness, know what “mind” and “nature” are, and then protect them in practice—saving many detours. This method is excellent.

To realize mind and see nature is not difficult. People make it out to be extremely hard, something only sages can do. In truth all beings possess the Tathāgata’s Buddha-nature. Alas, we fail to recognize it, chase after external dusts, and are deluded by them. Now we are shown how to recognize our own nature—so awakening to mind and seeing nature is not difficult!

The advantage of tantric cultivation is relying on Buddha-power blessings, like getting help walking the path. Self-power cultivation is like walking on two feet; with blessings, it is like riding a car or flying—far less effort. Thus tantric cultivation is in essence the same as Chan; it is not about secrecy or powers. Do not misunderstand Tantra.

Tibetan methods do differ somewhat. Tibetans are attached and full of strong habits; they expect a bit of “small spiritual response.” Hence at the beginning there are deity rites: how to dispel disasters, how to attract wealth. These just fit capacities at the outset. Later one cultivates the nine vehicles: first the Kriyā (activity) division, then the generation stage—arising appearances from the unarisen—working with winds, channels, and bindu, visualizing three channels and five (or seven) chakras. Methods differ, but all are ways to gather the mind, to keep it from scattering—hence “generation-stage accomplishment.” After this one must know it is not the true accomplishment, for Buddha-nature is signless and unrelated to any appearance. Generation-stage is like treating a large sore: medicine reduces the wound to a small one, but the poison remains. Therefore one must enter the completion stage, dissolving all generation-stage appearances into emptiness—only then is one’s nature seen. Thus the later tantric path is entirely consonant with Chan. Generation stage → completion stage → greater completion → Great Perfection → unsurpassed completion: by the end it is wholly aligned with Chan.

On Chan and Tantra: Originally Interpenetrating

A single example will show that Chan and Tantra fully interpenetrate. The Red school says: having attained the rainbow body, if one clings to it, one remains but a roaming spirit of the universe—one must know that even the rainbow body is ungraspable. Chan has parallel cases. A Chan master once asked the Caodong patriarch Caoshan: “Master, what about ‘the bright moon overhead’?”—meaning a blazing lunar radiance crowning one’s head, like the aureole on a Buddha image, shining through the body: is this not a luminous body—most excellent? Caoshan replied, “Still a commoner at the steps”—not yet within the hall. The monk begged, “Please, Master, pull me up!” Caoshan said, “When the moon sets, we’ll meet.” That is, let even that light dissolve.

In cultivation there are three experiential flavors: empty, blissful, and luminous. When subject and object both vanish—mind and dharmas both rest—worlds fall empty; the great earth sinks, space shatters. At that time, though “nothing whatsoever,” there is a clear, quiescent lucency—ever-knowing, not like wood or stone. Reaching this is awakening—true emptying. Afterwards there may be intense bliss and then great radiance—but none of the three may be dwelt in. Dwell in bliss and you do not exit the desire realm; dwell in light and you do not exit the form realm; dwell in emptiness and you do not exit the formless realm. Not dwelling in any of the three is to exit the three realms.

Now let us investigate the matter of cultivation. In principle, Dharma is beyond words, for all beings possess the Tathāgata’s stainless self-nature; any saying falls short. Yet people seek outwardly and lose their nature, craving without end and reaping karma—hence Śākyamuni Buddha appeared in the world, teaching in various ways that in truth only point us back to our original face. All Dharma is equal; varied only because capacities differ, medicine is given according to illness.

Chan (1): Investigating the Huatou and Merely Reciting It

Among China’s four great schools, Chan is the most consummate: a single blade cuts straight in, pointing directly to mind and seeing one’s nature to become Buddha. Other schools, unavoidably, circle outside. Today’s Chan practitioners, however, find it hard to raise the great doubt when investigating the huatou. Thus “investigating the huatou” has degenerated into reciting the huatou, wearing it on the lips—“Who is mindful of the Buddha?”

Without the doubt-mass, you cannot cut off inner and outer; discursive thoughts will not cease. When the doubt-mass arises and envelops the whole body, inner cannot exit and outer cannot enter; then good “news” appears and the original face is opened. Nowadays people merely recite, “Who is mindful of the Buddha?”—without raising doubt; thus they cannot cut off inner-outer, and for all their years of reciting, they do not gain the Buddhas’ blessings. In that case, better to recite “Amitābha” itself. To recite “Who is mindful of the Buddha?” without doubt neither cuts off delusion nor reveals suchness, turning Chan into lineage by household scroll. No wonder Master Taixu lamented: “Today’s Chan descendants transmit by dharma affinity, not by having awakened and then transmitted… who ever realized the mind?” Teachers unawakened, students unawakened—the Dharma is dragged through the dust. Heartbreaking! Under such circumstances, people turn to tantric methods—this is the main reason for “Tantra fever.”

Chan (2): The Origin of the Huatou

Originally, Chan masters gave direct pointing; they did not tell people to investigate the huatou. Before the Sixth Patriarch, teacher after teacher directly indicated; even the Sixth Patriarch’s transmission to Hueiming was a direct instruction: “Do not think good, do not think evil.” That is, put everything down; do not stir the mind. When Hueiming stood for a time without thought, the Sixth Patriarch directly pointed: “Just at this very moment”—that is your original face. “That” is crisp and limpid; it bids you be without a single thought—not groping at a rock saying “I don’t know,” for it still has awareness and spirit. “That”—no thought, no limit, no knowing, no feeling—yet not wood or stone: that is your original face. This is direct pointing; this is seeing nature.

Later generations failed to understand direct pointing and claimed it was not pointing but questioning—as if the Sixth Patriarch asked, “Which is your original face?” In Chinese, “that” in “that one” can be read variously; people stretched it either to “That!” (指示) or “What?” (问话). In the mainland, much ink was spilled over this lawsuit of “question” vs “pointing.” But we need not litigate: look at later patriarchs. Lingxun asked Guizong, “What is Buddha?” Guizong said, “You yourself are.” The official Yuxiu asked Ziyu, “What is Buddha?” The master called, “Official!”—when he responded, the master said, “Just thus, nothing else.” Damei asked Mazu, “What is Buddha?” Mazu said, “Mind itself is Buddha.” All are direct indications, not huatou investigation.

By the Song, human capacities had declined; the Buddha had already entered nirvāṇa five hundred years, and the age of semblance followed the age of true Dharma. Before, direct pointing required little effort—as if inheriting a family fortune without labor; precisely because there was no blood and sweat, people did not value it and squandered it. “Ah, so this is it?” “It is.” “Then why do I not manifest spiritual powers?” Especially today, if told “one thought not arising, lucidly aware—that is the original face,” people expect powers; when none appear, they refuse to accept and seek outside, chasing marvels. Therefore the patriarchs, helpless, ceased direct pointing and adopted the huatou: using a meaningless phrase stuck to the mind to raise a great doubt so that the whole body plunges into it; when conditions ripen, the bottom of the bucket drops—thus huatou investigation arose in the Song.

Even then, huatou was never one-size-fits-all; masters tailored it to the pupil’s capacity. Later, with few true teachers, everyone was given the single huatou “Who is mindful of the Buddha?”—which is also fine, if one exerts effort on the “who,” truly investigating “Who, exactly, recites?” Is it “I”? Is the body “I”? Obviously not—the breath stops, the body remains, but cannot recite. So who says “Amitābha, Amitābha”? Let doubt arise and thereby cut off inner and outer. Without doubt, mere recitation is useless. Thus the Dharma has gradually waned.

Mahāmudrā

Consider the Kagyu’s deepest method, Mahāmudrā. This is not about making or holding a physical “seal” mudrā. Why the name “great seal”? Because the one dharmadhātu, our stainless self-nature, pervades space and the dharmadhātu like a single hand. In Journey to the West, Sun Wukong somersaults for leagues; the Buddha says, “Try somersaulting out of my palm.” He flips repeatedly yet never leaves that palm. The true dharmadhātu, exhausting space and pervading the realm of phenomena, is one hand—hence a mudrā without any mudrā, the Great Seal.

Dzogchen (Great Perfection)

The Red school’s Great Perfection accords entirely with Chan. It has two divisions: Trekchö (“direct cutting”)—cutting thoughts the moment they arise, not following them, letting mind appear—and Tögal (“leap-over”), in which the Dharma-body goes beyond. Chan speaks of breaking three barriers—the first, the second (the “heavy” barrier), and the last, the prison-barrier—and then the Dharma-body going beyond: here the teachings are entirely consonant. Even if the flesh dissolves into rainbow light, if one harbors that notion, it is still a stain—just as Chan says, “The moment you alight upon something, you fall into a pit.”

Whatever method one takes at the start—Pure Land with Buddha-recitation; Chan with huatou; Tantra with mantra and mudrā—all converge in the end on Chan, entering meditative equipoise, and ultimately all converge on Pure Land. Our mind is the land; when the mind is pure, that is truly a pure land; with anything remaining in mind, it is not pure land.

After Seeing Nature, Birth-and-Death Is Not Yet Ended

In Chan, opening one’s original mind and seeing one’s nature does not yet end birth-and-death. Seeing nature is merely breaking the first barrier: views are severed, but afflictive thought remains. Though vision is correct, thinking that follows conditions persists; seeds in the eighth consciousness arise when stimulated—hence birth-and-death is not over. Because of this, Pure Land followers frequently criticize Chan: “Chan is inferior; seeing nature, yet birth-and-death remains! Better to be reborn in the West and, seeing Amitābha, all is resolved.” This misunderstands Chan’s stance. Chan itself acknowledges that seeing nature does not finish the job. Master Linji said it plainly: “In the first phrase one cannot save oneself.” He said, “Look at the puppets on the stage—the strings are all held by the man behind”; likewise, our speaking and moving are drawn by Buddha-nature. Recognizing Buddha-nature’s subtle function still cannot save oneself, because the eighth-consciousness seeds remain and mind moves with conditions.

The Consciousness-only school is even clearer:

“At arousing the first joy on the path (the first bhūmi), the coemergent afflictions still lie coiled in sleep. Only after the Far-going Bhūmi (the seventh) does the stream become purely stainless; at that time observing wisdom illumines the great thousandfold world.”

That is: from first to seventh bhūmi one cultivates; the eighth is Immovable; only there does one enter leak-exhaustion, and only then does spiritual penetration become genuine. Otherwise there is still retrogression. At that point, the seeds of the eighth consciousness are exhausted, transforming into amalavijñāna (the ninth, white-pure consciousness). Even then one is not yet home, for while the coemergent self-grasping is gone, coemergent dharma-grasping remains; one must temper in events and remove the dust-like ignorance to transform the ninth and arrive at the tenth—then it is truly seeing nature and becoming Buddha. Thus Chan requires long effort; it cannot be finished in an instant. The “three incalculable eons” are divided into seeing the path, cultivating the path, and realizing the path—the duration depends on diligence. Śākyamuni, given prediction by Dīpaṃkara, strove heroically and shortened the time by seven eons—so the length is not fixed.

Ānanda and the Buddha were cousins and began together; when the Buddha realized Buddhahood, Ānanda had not yet awakened—showing practice depends on oneself. The vigorous advance quickly; the lax proceed slowly. Therefore in this degenerate age, relying only on self-power is hard; one should borrow Buddha-power for support.

China’s Indigenous Esoteric Method: The Heart-Center Dharma

The Heart-Center Dharma is neither learned from Japan nor Tibet; it belongs neither to Tō-Mi nor to Tibetan Vajrayāna. It is a native Chinese esoteric method from the Tang. Since no one transmitted it for ages, even my teacher’s teacher did not know of it until he left home and travelled to Donglin Monastery on Mount Lu (the Pure Land patriarchal seat). There Master Huiyuan established Pure Land practice. There are two samādhis: Buddha-mindfulness samādhi and Pratyutpanna Samādhi. The former is easier: cross-legged, forming the dharmadhātu concentration mudrā, reciting “Amitābha,” one attains Buddha-mindfulness samādhi. The Pratyutpanna is difficult: one walks continuously in a room—no sitting, no lying. When matured, the Buddha appears before you to lay a hand on your crown.

My teacher’s teacher made a great vow to choose the harder path. He walked night and day without sleep; the body could hardly bear it; his legs swelled until he could not walk, yet having vowed, he did not stop—he crawled on the floor; when his palms swelled and crawling failed, he rolled. After such suffering and training, mind died through and great samādhi opened; in samādhi Samantabhadra appeared, placed a hand on his crown, and said: “In this degenerate age, to undertake such austerity is rare and precious; yet within the esoteric corpus there is a Heart-Center method by which you may rely on Buddha-power—no need to suffer so. Cultivate the Heart-Center Dharma; with blessings, you gain twice the result with half the effort. Practise it well; when accomplished, descend the mountain and transmit it widely.”

Today in Japan and Tibet there is also such a method, but it is not easily transmitted. Often after decades of cultivation, it is given. The Tibetan master Nona Rinpoche came to Shanghai and transmitted it to only one person. Others asked; he said: “You lack the qualification; this is signless esotericism—upon first entry one sees nature; this is not easy. You should cultivate generation stage first—winds, channels, bindu.” In Japan likewise it is not lightly given. A Taiwanese novice studied six years at Mount Kōya; he saw the Heart-Center manual and begged for transmission. The teacher said, “You are still a junior; when you attain the rank of ācārya, I will transmit it.” He asked, “Even after six years I cannot learn it?” Denied, he went to Tibet; except for the Red school, other sects had no Heart-Center Dharma. A Red teacher said, “You may learn it—after ten more years. First learn other tantric methods.” Hence Tibet and Japan possess it but do not lightly transmit it; it belongs to the heart-essence of esotericism. Therefore Samantabhadra told my teacher’s teacher: “Cultivate it well, then transmit it broadly to supplement the deficiencies of Chan and Pure Land.” He cultivated eight years on the mountain and then descended to propagate it.

When he prepared to transmit, people were unfamiliar with “Heart-Center Dharma”; none wished to study. He therefore displayed a bit of spiritual power to attract attention. The Dharma is upright; one should not traffic in powers. For this he was criticized by Masters Taixu and Yinguang, who said demonstrations aid “ghost-and-spirit cults” and do not promote the light of Dharma. He replied, “I, too, would prefer not to show powers; but transmission is difficult in China since esotericism has been cut off so long!”

To cultivate the Heart-Center Dharma, one must first arouse ten vows and practices; only then is one qualified. When these are fulfilled, the method accords.

1. Trust in all Buddhas; doubt no Dharma. Regard the pure Saṅgha as your teachers.
2. Keep the precepts intact; the mind steadily concentrated; understand all dharmas as empty—equal, without attachment.
3. Be compassionate to beings; uphold non-killing; regard all beings as oneself; do not bear to eat their flesh.
4. When people ask, give impartially; be gentle and humble; let no arrogance arise.
5. Do not betray your fundamental vows; always benefit self and others; do not self-praise or fault others.
6. Rich or poor, noble or base— their nature is non-dual; let the mouth be soft and pleasing, generating joy; keep the mind upright, far from flattery; accord with human feelings and skillfully turn conventional truth.
7. Revere the Buddha’s teachings; embody and practice them; protect the Dharma as your life; rescue beings without seeking reward; do not retreat even when beings are proud and rude.
8. Do not belittle the true Dharma, nor let others belittle it. Do not slander the Three Jewels, nor let others slander them. When there is belittling, skillfully clarify so that faith arises and none fall into wrong nets.
9. Guard right mindfulness; do not do wrong in secret. Be steadfast in superior practice, unwearied in toil. Make vast vows; collect the mind without retreat; ever abide in the Mahāyāna and shatter wrong views.
10. Whatever method you cultivate, recite and seal each completely. Keep the pure secret mudrās from being tainted. Practise for self-benefit and the benefit of others, not for fame or gain.

The Heart-Center Dharma belongs to the uppermost teachings within the inner secret three vehicles—the pinnacle consonant with the Great Perfection of the Red school. You may wonder: if Great Perfection is the Nyingma’s highest teaching, how can the Heart-Center—which is not Nyingma—accord with it? Explanation: Great Perfection has two aspects: Trekchö (“direct cutting”), where thoughts are cut the moment they arise so the mind-ground appears; and Tögal (“leap-over”), whereby one leaps beyond the three realms and brings birth-and-death to an end. The Heart-Center Dharma cultivates precisely direct cutting and leap-over; as signless esotericism, with one mantra and six mudrās, one directly sees nature without relying on transitional appearances. With appearance-based methods one must first cultivate appearances and then empty them to see nature—many detours. This method cuts directly.

Our nature is signless (without marks)—nothing to see, touch, or smell. Thus people do not know how to enter. Tibetan Vajrayāna, to give a handhold, takes many detours: the four preliminaries and so on; then, in Great Perfection Trekchö one still begins with winds-channels-bindu—three channels and seven wheels—establishing the image and then emptying it; these are the preliminaries of Trekchö. We, with six mudrās and one mantra, do not visualize channels; we focus the deluded mind on the mantra so that mind recites and the ear hears—the mind recites, the ear clearly hears the sound one recites; in this way one seizes the wandering sixth consciousness, so that discursive thought does not arise, and right then one can enter samādhi. This is the Ear-Faculty Perfect Penetration of Avalokiteśvara.

Mind Recites; Ear Hears—Practise in Accord with Dharma

Take heed: in cultivation, you must let the mind recite and the ear hear; you must practise according to Dharma. Do not let the mouth chant while the mind thinks of other things—mouth without mind is useless. This applies equally to Buddha-recitation. If you mouth “Amitābha” while the mind is scattered and thoughts ramble, you cannot be reborn in the Pure Land—the mind is too chaotic. When the mind is impure, even if the Buddha appears, you will not see him. Great Master Yongming Shou (a great patriarch of both Chan and Pure Land) said: “Mouth reciting Amitābha while the mind is scattered—cry yourself hoarse to no avail.” Why? The mind is like water. When water is clear, the moon’s reflection appears; Amitābha is like the moon; our mind is like water. If water is unclear, the moon does not appear; when the mind is impure, Amitābha does not appear in your mind—you will not see him come to welcome you and thus cannot be reborn. Mahāsthāmaprāpta teaches: “Gather in the six faculties; let pure mindfulness continue.” With the single sacred name you seize eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind, reciting “Amitābha” clearly and quietly until one-pointedness without confusion; then rebirth is assured.

Of the six faculties, mind is the hardest to seize. The instant you are still, thoughts arise. We are accustomed to movement; when we do not quiet down, we may not notice; once still, it is evident—like water settling and mud sinking so that you can see it. Thus one must use mind reciting, ear hearing to seize all six faculties, cut off discursive thought, let body and mind fall away, and then the original Buddha-nature appears. Proper method is crucial; without it, one cannot see one’s nature. Many of you have practised long—there should be result. Why not? Because you have not been according to Dharma.

First kind of not according to Dharma: on-and-off practice. Today you sit, tomorrow you say the body is unwell or you are busy, and practice is delayed. This does not work. Like cooking rice—take it off before done, let it cool, then put it back: the rice turns hard and ruined. Cultivation is like rowing upstream; do not exert and the boat is swept back. Broken-up practice is poor.

Second: mind recites, ear does not hear. You recite the mantra while thinking, “How will I handle that matter? How do I solve this?”—not according to Dharma. The deluded mind is not severed; how then open the original and see nature?

Third: after rising from the seat, you do not observe. On the cushion you work diligently; off the cushion you follow delusion and chase conditions—ten days of cold for one day of warmth. In this restless era—everyone trading stocks—minds run to prices rising and falling, profit and loss. Without observation you are pulled about. You must constantly watch: as soon as a thought arises, see it; do not follow it; remain lucid that what can speak, see, and hear is your nature, not turned by circumstances. Without correcting these faults, you cannot see the Way.

The Mind-Ground Approach

While seated, use vajra recitation: lips move slightly but no sound. Out-loud chanting damages qi; entirely silent recitation taxes blood. We must protect the body; do not ruin it. But if seeds surge and the mind is agitated so you cannot sit still, or if you grow drowsy and dream wildly, then do recite audibly to dispel turbulence and sleep; only then enter samādhi. Otherwise, still use vajra recitation.

Recite ten to twelve times per minute. As you recite, let mind recite and ear hear: each syllable passes through the heart; not lip-service without mind. Let the ear clearly listen to the sound issuing from the heart; hearing clean and fresh, discursive thought is seized and still, and gradually samādhi is entered.

Of the six faculties, mind and ear are hardest to seize. Eyes can be closed; tongue is seized by recitation; nose by avoiding smells; body by avoiding contact. But the ear is keen—distant sounds, even beyond a mountain, intrude; and the mind is harder yet: unbidden, thoughts leap forth—habit energy of countless lives. In the scriptures this is manasikāra, the first of the five universal mental factors—ever flowing like a stream, subtle and unseen.

Some say, “When I don’t cultivate, I have no thoughts; when I sit, thoughts arise—did cultivation spoil me?” No. In ordinary bustle you don’t see the movement; once quiet, you do. What to do? Only one way: use the ear to seize the mind. Because the mind cannot do two things at once: listening single-mindedly to the mantra or Buddha-name, thoughts naturally cease. Therefore, recite “Namo Amitābha” or “Amitābha,” listening to each syllable clearly; then thought stops. Likewise with mantra: each syllable from the heart, each clearly heard—that is according to Dharma. The gist of sitting is mind recites, ear hears: seize thought and enter samādhi. If you mouth the words while the brain thinks seven this and eight that, you will not enter samādhi. You must die-to-self on the cushion.

Most important of all is mind-emptiness. Cultivation is to leap beyond the three realms and the five phases; everything must be put down. Household life adds obstacles—family, affairs upon affairs. Be ever alert: these appearances are false, ungraspable; do not harbor them; only then will coarse delusions not arise. As you work diligently, subtler delusions will attack—the old habit of countless lives does not stop at once. Do not fear it. When a thought jumps out and you see it, ignore it; it naturally dissolves.

If a thought arises and you do not see it, you are carried by it and cannot enter samādhi. The essential point of sitting is put everything down. Let the mind be crisp and clear; when a thought comes, see it; do not dislike or suppress—aversion is itself delusion; suppression fails (press grass with a rock: remove the rock and grass rises; suppress too hard and you turn into wood or stone—useless). Use a lively transformation: do not suppress; simply do not heed; raise the mantra—delusion naturally transforms and falls away.

Practise thus with vigor. When you reach one-pointedness without confusion, even the mantra naturally falls away—why? Because mantra-recitation is still deluded mind, with subject-object: a mind that recites and a mantra recited; the two are relative and therefore false. The true mind is absolute and signless; whatever has form is illusory. When one truly reaches one-pointedness, all relative, illusory things drop away. Body, mind, and world fall empty; space shatters; the innate true nature appears in its entirety.

After empowerment and cultivation of the Heart-Center Dharma, there is often a spell of diarrhea—do not fear it. This is the power of the Dharma: a great purification expelling filth, stains, and habitual obstructions. A good sign.

Conceptual Understanding Still Must Be Personally Realized

Studying Chan texts and “getting the idea” is doctrinal awakening—mere verbal understanding is of little use. Without personal realization, concentration is insufficient; when matters arrive, you cannot withstand them. Understanding does not end birth-and-death; you must realize, personally seeing your nature. “Seeing” is not with the eye—it is the mind-ground Dharma-eye realizing nature. Nature is formless; the eye sees only forms. At realization, even the person is gone—what “eye” remains to “see”? The Dharma-body has no form, yet it is not nihilistic nothingness; it is great function and great energy, all worldly appearances being its display—like electricity: unseen, yet without it the world will not run; or like salt in the sea—the sea is visible, the salt-taste unseen yet undeniably there.

As effort deepens to the conditioned mind, the world falls empty; in the spiritual knowing, one intuits and sees the Way—hence it is the mind-ground that sees. Is this success? Many think so—not yet; far from it. You have just opened the treasury and glimpsed a shadow—still peripheral to the Dharma-body. Birth-and-death is not ended; you must protect it diligently, temper the mind in conditions, eradicate habits from countless kalpas, and truly accord with the Diamond Sūtra: “Whatever has characteristics is all illusory”; in favorable conditions no joy, in adverse no anger—utterly unmoved. Then thought-afflictions end and segmentary birth-and-death is finished. The Diamond Sūtra says, “Past, present, and future mind are all ungraspable.” If mind is ungraspable, what moves? One who truly sees nature has only this awareness; all else is ungraspable. Yet it is only in accord with truth when even awareness and ungraspability are not grasped; if encountering conditions you stir, you are not one who has seen nature. The four fruits of Arhatship are distinguished by whether mind stirs. A first-fruit Arhat is pure in the forest but, entering the city, thoughts rise—evidence that thought-afflictions remain.

During sitting many visions may arise—Buddha and Bodhisattva lights, or ugly nightmares—do not heed them; all that has form is false; grasping them invites possession. Passing from form to formless, various transformations occur: body gone; limbs gone; breath seemingly to stop; head about to explode—do not fear this; it is the prelude to body-mind release. The slightest fear and you are thrown out of samādhi. When the fire reaches the point, a great explosion—inside, body and mind vanish; outside, world dissolves; space shatters—and nature appears. But do not seek an explosion; the very seeking is delusion; then you cannot even enter emptiness. Tantra has advantage: often Buddhas and Bodhisattvas bless, an outer explosion triggers the inner—yet never anticipate it; do not wait or welcome it. In samādhi, whatever appears—do not heed. Remember the Diamond Sūtra: all forms are false. Ignore them and nothing happens; attend to them and possession is near.

A second-fruit Arhat notices a thought arise and immediately awakes; although he does not dwell on appearances and, after awakening, returns home and sits securely, there is still arising and ceasing. One still undergoes three more births in heaven and fallings to earth before ending segmentary birth-and-death. Thus opening the original is not the end; you must diligently extirpate habits. Advancing to the third fruit, unmoved in events, and higher to the unconditioned, one reaches avaivartika—the stage of non-retrogression—then one has initially finished. Any thoughts, emotions, fabrications are conditioned. From first to seventh bhūmi there is having; only entering the eighth is non-having. Even at the seventh one has realized the unconditioned, yet a shadow of the unconditioned remains—still unclean; only at the eighth is even that shadow gone. Measure yourself: do you remain unmoved by conditions? If thoughts still surge, it will not do; if you cling to states, still worse. Only everywhere and always, the mind empty as swept, functioning according to conditions without attachment—true emptiness, wondrous existence; wondrous existence, true emptiness—is the awakening we speak of.

When a Thought Arises, Do Not Follow

Beyond sitting, the most important is daily application. Constantly watch yourself: as soon as a thought arises, see it and do not follow. If you fail to see it and are carried far before noticing, it will not do. Chan says: “Do not fear thoughts arising; only fear awakening late.” If a thought arises and you immediately awaken, you will gain freedom in birth—not yet ending birth-and-death, but mastering it: rebirths occur by choice, not dragged by karma.

Degrees of Practice

First step: When a thought arises, do not follow.
Achieve this and, within birth-and-death, you master yourself—karma does not drag you, and you gain great ease.

Second step: Personally realize the unconditioned.
Let events come as they may; the mind does not move—not suppression, but genuine accord. Engage all affairs, accord with all conditions—no preference for good or bad; joy does not swell, aversion does not arise—thus the mind becomes peaceful, reaching equality and the unconditioned. At this point one gains freedom of transformation; segmentary birth-and-death is ended. One reaches the level of the eighth bhūmi, able to manifest three kinds of mind-made bodies.

Third step: Extinguish the subtle streaming current.
This is that manasikāra, the subtle flow in the eighth consciousness. Only by entering adamantine Potalaka great samādhi can one perceive and extinguish it. When this flow is entirely gone, one can manifest hundreds of thousands of millions of transformation-bodies to liberate beings—truly home. Awakening at the start is far from this; hence diligent practice is required.

Without bodhicitta there is no Buddhahood. Bodhicitta is “seeking above and transforming below”—seeking Buddhahood and transforming beings. We cultivate for the sake of beings, not self-liberation.

Today, obtaining this method is supreme fortune. Chan often requires decades of earnest investigation to open the original; but people are busy—time does not permit. With the Heart-Center Dharma, relying on Buddha-power, it is convenient and swift: Chan’s self-power is two feet; Heart-Center with blessings is vehicle or plane—the speed differs. Treasure this method; be cautious and protective; above all, practise without interruption. Not two hours of sitting and then letting the wild horse run. In walking, standing, sitting, lying, maintain unbroken observation—only then will you accord with the Great Way.

Six Key Points of Practice

1. Put everything down; die-to-self on the seat.
   All worldly things are confluences of causes and conditions, insubstantial—like clouds passing, unreal, ungraspable. Even your body is provisional; you cannot keep it. To clutch at shadows is foolish. The great work of Buddhahood is for great persons; not for the faint-hearted. First, see through; on the seat be like a corpse—otherwise scattered thoughts will ruin the session.
2. Sit reciting mantra; let mind recite and ear hear.
   This is the essence of Heart-Esotericism and decisive for entering samādhi and awakening. The mind is used to movement; only by heart-born sound and ear-borne clarity can the mind-root be seized; otherwise one cannot settle.
3. When thoughts arise, at once awaken; neither suppress nor follow.
   See the thought as it comes; if not seen, you will be carried along. Do not suppress; do not drift. Ignore it; raise right mindfulness and recite single-mindedly; delusion transforms and samādhi is entered.
4. Sit on schedule; neither hurried nor lax.
   Set times daily; habit makes entry easier. Morning is best; predawn better still. Do not strain to enter samādhi; sit with ordinary mind, calmly reciting—seek neither samādhi, awakening, nor powers. The very thought of seeking is delusion and blocks the gate.
5. After rising, maintain observation—fine, continuous.
   Extend the stillness of the seat into daily activity. In all postures, coolly self-use, delicately observing non-dwelling—not dragged by states, not let loose among thoughts.
6. Make your heart vast; contain all.
   Do not be narrow. Even when others mistreat you, treat them better—no trace of love/hate, like/dislike. According to conditions, do good everywhere; ever carefree, without fear of gain/loss, praise/blame—this is the greatest spiritual power.

Remember these six points and practise accordingly: you will surely open the original and personally realize Buddha-nature. Fulfil them without the slightest slackening and you are guaranteed to consummate bodhi and achieve great realization.