Original Text in Chinese: http://read.goodweb.net.cn/news/news_view.asp?newsid=68874

The Key to Buddhahood
Elder Yuanyin — a talk given in Jinan, June 1996

Our purpose in practicing is to open what is originally so and see our self-nature (buddha-nature).

Heart-Center Dharma is the heart-essence of the Esoteric path. The Esoteric teachings speak of nine vehicles: the three outer vehicles, the three inner vehicles, and the three secret vehicles. Heart-Center Dharma is the final heart-marrow of those three secret vehicles. In Tibet and Japan, one must undergo many years of cultivation before this method is transmitted.

Now, we can forgo long years of preliminary and auxiliary practices and transmit the direct practice. Why? Chinese civilization is ancient and bears a great-vehicle spirit. Daoism and Confucianism, native to this land, contain profound wisdom and culture. When the Patriarch came from the West, he taught Chan directly; Chan flourished because it points straight—no detours or circles. It points straight to the human mind, to seeing one’s nature and becoming buddha—the swiftest way. Because we have this good foundation, Heart-Center Dharma can be taught as direct practice without long preliminaries. You’ve practiced for quite some time already and must have real experience. It’s helpful to share and verify your practice with Dharma friends; otherwise, cultivating alone, one can feel a bit puzzled. Talking it through clears things up and lets you move forward more brightly.

Why do we speak of one thousand sittings in Heart-Center Dharma? Because laying down the foundation of these thousand sittings ensures you will have the opportunity to open what is originally so and see your nature. Ensures! Sometimes people miss it without knowing. It is often at the moment when reciting has dropped away—when there is “recitation with nothing to recite”—that a somewhat indistinct clarity appears, “as if knowing and yet not knowing.” It slips past—what a pity!

Our self-nature is always shining at the gate of our face; it has never been concealed. The very capacity by which we see, hear, speak, sit, and walk—that can—is our buddha-nature, ever shining before our face, never hidden. Even when asleep it is lucid and clear. The fact that dreams can arise in sleep—this is its functioning too. Speaking in Yogācāra terms: dreams arise when the seeds in the eighth consciousness (ālayavijñāna) are stirred; the sixth consciousness appropriates these seeds into dream images. But without buddha-nature, how could there be an eighth consciousness? How could the sixth gather dream images? The root of this functioning is buddha-nature. It is always present—never lacking, never hidden. There is no broken-and-resumed continuity—no “it stopped and then started again.” It is continuous. Our practice is precisely to recognize this buddha-nature.

Let me point it out more precisely: our buddha-nature is right at the break between thoughts—when the previous thought has ceased and the next has not yet arisen. At that very moment. In that gap, knowing is not absent; it remains lucid and clear. That is the hair-trigger moment—the critical instant. People often miss it, not recognizing it, letting it slip past. Everyone has moments of complete clarity, if only for a second—at least once, when not a single thought is arising—yet awareness is still bright. Not recognizing it, one misses it. The essential thing is to recognize this self-nature that is always shining before our face.

You know the literatus Huang Shangu (Huang Tingjian), famed alongside Su Dongpo in poetry, painting, and calligraphy. When Huang was practicing Chan, his teacher Elder Huitang told him to investigate the phrase: “My young companions, do you suppose I keep anything hidden from you? I keep nothing hidden from you!” This is Confucius speaking to his students: “Do you think I conceal anything? I conceal nothing—I have been completely open to you, without favoritism.” Huitang told Huang to investigate this huatou. Huang, a scholar, thought, “I already understand this!” He gave many explanations—Huitang rejected them all: “Not right. Not right.” Huang grew displeased: “I’m a scholar—how could I not understand? My meaning is correct; why say it’s wrong?” He began to harbor a view against his teacher.

Later he reconsidered: “Elder Huitang is a great teacher of five hundred disciples; such a Patriarch wouldn’t belittle me on purpose—he must have another meaning. What does ‘I keep nothing hidden from you’ truly mean?” He investigated for a long time. One day, teacher and student went for a mountain stroll. Practice is not dead practice; we also relax and unbind the mind—too tight is no good, too loose also no good; like a lute, strings too tight snap, too loose won’t sound. So sometimes relax; sometimes draw in.

It was the eighth lunar month; osmanthus was in bloom. A breeze carried a wave of fragrance. Huang blurted out, “What a fine waft of osmanthus!” Huitang immediately pointed: “I keep nothing hidden from you!”—“I do not hide—and you do not hide. Who is it that smells the osmanthus?” Huang awakened on the spot: “Ah! The one who can smell is my buddha-nature!” Yes—always shining before the face. The capacity to dress and eat is buddha-nature; at every moment it is not apart from buddha-nature. Thus seeing one’s nature is not difficult—it is right here. The point is to point it out so you see and keep knowing: this is buddha-nature.

(Why recognition isn’t the end; habits, “do not dwell,” and steady practice)

After clearly recognizing buddha-nature, is the great matter settled—are we “home”? No. If, after recognizing, our habit energies remain, that will not do. Real life tests us: we learn the Buddha-way to end birth and death—to be free from the sufferings of the six courses. If habits remain—if, when circumstances appear, we move and follow them—birth and death are not ended. Even if you recognize that “the clear lucidity at the break of thought is my buddha-nature,” if habits remain and you’re stirred by situations, that recognition is useless for liberation.

We have bodies precisely because, when our parents coupled, we ourselves were stirred and went in; no one assigned us—it was our own moved mind. Moving with circumstances is a serious mistake; the lustful mind is worst—root of birth and death. Real practitioners must cut lust. If you can’t cut it all at once, cut it gradually. Laypeople are allowed proper sexuality; monastics are not. But for rebirth in the Pure Land, lust must be cut off; if it isn’t, you cannot be born there. We must train to face circumstances and not dwell and not be moved; only then is birth-and-death ended.

Because of this, Pure Land practitioners sometimes disparage Chan: “Even if you awaken in Chan, if thought-afflictions remain—birth and death are not ended.” Thought-affliction means the mind chasing circumstances. They’re right that one must also end thought-afflictions—so as not to chase circumstances. That’s why, after understanding, we must work harder. Heart-Center Dharma constantly gives you this chance: empowered by Buddha-power, sometimes on the cushion you suddenly open and see; sometimes walking—because practice is in all postures—you may suddenly slip free; even in sleep and dreams you may slip free. Many miss these moments; thus today I stress: recognizing self-nature is the first priority. If you don’t recognize, you’re practicing in vain.

Heart-Center Dharma lets you open and see quickly. I say “a thousand sittings” only as a wide allowance; in truth, if you truly apply yourself—on the cushion, be dead-set: no thought arising; heart recites, ear hears; hold the thinking mind still so it more easily enters samādhi. Off the cushion, be finely watchful—see the arising point of thoughts and don’t run with them. When situations come, do not dwell on them. If you practice like this, three to five hundred sittings may be enough to open and see. This Dharma opens to self-nature swiftly.

After seeing, go further: wear down habits until thought-affliction is ended. Ignorance has four layers, from coarse to subtle. First is view-based affliction—wrong views. Many today run after qigong: “It brings powers!”—but qigong cannot end birth and death. At best it tones the body—refining essence, breath, and spirit—keeping the qi circulating smoothly to avoid illness. It cannot liberate. Some cling to “extraordinary powers”: where do such powers come from? Often they’re external—spirit-possession. Many “qigong masters” rely on attached entities; this is not to be valued. Others hear of teachers who “give powers” and rush like flies to blood. True powers arise only when one first attains leak-cessation—when everything is let go, outflows exhausted, the mind truly empty and pure; then the other powers unfold naturally (divine foot, heavenly eye, heavenly ear, knowledge of past lives, knowledge of minds). Powers cannot be sought; they are innate to self-nature and manifest only when clinging and habit are cleared.

Stand firm in right view: cultivate authentic Buddhadharma—whether Pure Land, Chan, or Esoteric—but don’t dabble elsewhere. Ending thought-affliction is subtler: by habit, we chase circumstances—men and women are stirred by the sight of the other. Train so that facing any scene, the heart does not dwell and does not move. Why? Because when awakening is deep, we know that apart from self-nature all phenomena are unreal—mere reflections within buddha-nature. The Lotus Sutra says: “Only this one truth is real; the two other truths are not.” Only self-nature is real; all else is false, unreliable. Don’t cling. Exercise in situations until habit is smoothed away; then birth-and-death is ended. If you chase a scene, you are carried to rebirth—dangerous!

So, after recognizing self-nature, this is exactly when to apply effort—not the time to stop.

Two common pitfalls appear. One: someone refuses to accept that “this” is self-nature—“If it were, why no powers?” They dwell on powers. Two: someone goes wild—“Ah, this is self-nature; I’m awakened—no need to practice!” That’s ruin: habits remain; birth-and-death not ended.

Linji said it plainly: “Grasping the first phrase, birth-and-death are not ended.” The “first phrase” is recognizing that “on the stage the puppet moves because someone inside pulls the strings.” This body is the puppet; the string-puller is self-nature. Recognize that “the one who speaks, walks, and works is self-nature.” But you haven’t made it yet—habits still move. Linji instructs us: after recognition, guard it finely—watch the arising point of thoughts at all times and don’t follow them. Whatever appears, favorable or adverse, pleasant or painful—don’t be shaken. In this training, habits melt; birth-and-death ends.

Linji maps nine steps of this protection. First, we often forget to protect because we’re used to running with thoughts. Catch yourself and return. Protection is not stiff suppression—don’t press down thoughts. Let thoughts arise; don’t engage them, and they pass—like pedestrians on a street; if you stop one to chat, he stays. Protect lively and at ease—not by staring at a point or guarding a “cavity.” When doing a task, be one-minded in that single thought.

From “forgetting to protect” to “not forgetting to protect” is a major shift. After that, even protection is dropped—because it, too, is extra. Self-nature is originally unborn, undying, unstained, unpurified, neither coming nor going, neither increasing nor decreasing. When protection matures, the mind is naturally unmoved. One is not pleased by good, not vexed by evil—without effort. In Chan terms this is the “right position” of dharmakāya (having passed the threshold into the hall). Go on until even “not forgetting to protect” is forgotten—shifting from constructed to unconstructed. At that point powers are not sought and appear naturally. In Esoteric terms this is like the eighth bhūmi. Further still, even “unconstructed” is not a thing to hold—no dharma remains to be grasped. This is beyond dharmakāya—Chan’s third barrier (“last, firm barrier”).

In Heart-Center Dharma we proceed likewise: (1) Recognize self-nature—the first step. (2) Protect it finely—day by day, experience (觉受) grows; one realizes that myriad phenomena are self-nature’s own display. A simple analogy: a hall is first designed as a blueprint by thought, but thinking works only because of self-nature; the brain is like a wire, and self-nature is the current. Builders then erect the hall—again, self-nature’s function. Later our eyes see the hall—sight again relies on self-nature. Thus the myriad things—the hall included—are self-nature’s transformations—our nirmāṇa-bodies. At the same time, the clear wisdom-light by which we see is our sambhogakāya; and the clear lucidity at the break of thought is dharmakāya. Three bodies are complete right here.

Knowing this, practice becomes easy: always see the arising point of thoughts and don’t follow. Whatever appears, don’t dwell on it—they are mere reflections in the mirror of dharmakāya. Don’t grasp reflections; maintain unmoving clarity—and the Way is accomplished.

(What real progress looks like; avoiding power-seeking; samādhi warnings; Yekai story; Q&A begins)

Some people grow anxious: “Why is my progress so slow? Why no powers?” That is error. Progress is measured in life: formerly some affair agitated you; now it does not. Formerly some success made you proud; now it doesn’t. That is big progress. When you are truly free in affairs, powers come uninvited. As Master Yangshan said: “Powers are a trivial fringe of sages. Get the root; don’t worry about branches.” The root is recognizing and standing firmly; not turning with circumstances. When the root is attained, the branches (powers) surely appear—not through seeking.

Thus examine yourself by looking back, not by gazing forward. The path is long because habits are deep. Compare past and present: if you’re freer than before, confidence grows. Bit by bit, habit and vexation diminish—Laozi called this “daily lessening.”

Modern folks go wrong chasing comforts—eat well, dress well, live well, travel well—desire without end; thus society grows restless; people compete, leading to corruption. Our “proper enjoyment” is inner: an empty, spacious, at-ease heart—carefree and untroubled. Life at most a hundred years—before the Buddha it’s an eye-blink. Know that self-nature alone is real; all appearances are reflections—don’t chase them. Everyone’s karmic causes and conditions differ; so do outcomes. Don’t always look up—look down as well. Many in remote villages struggle to eat and stay warm. Be content; follow conditions; do what you can; accept what comes.

When inner clarity fills to the brim, great powers arise naturally. In Esoteric terms this is “advancing to the bright body”—radiance illumining ten directions; yet even that is not ultimate—any sign must be let go. Chan records say the same: a monk told Caoshan: “I have the bright moon overhead.” Caoshan replied: “You’re still below the steps.” “Please pull me up, Master.” Caoshan said: “When the moon sets, we’ll meet.” Even luminosity must be forgotten—like not noticing the air you breathe. Only then is it home.

Great Master Yekai of Tianning, after awakening, was made an administrator. He told his teacher, “I still move.” Wise enough to know it wouldn’t do, he entered three years of retreat. Emerging, he could handle affairs with an unmoving heart. Learn from this—don’t go mad with one insight. Don’t boast “I’m done”—that karma draws you down.

Now—questions.

(Q&A 1–12)

Q: After settling in, sometimes I can’t seem to raise the mantra. When I try to recite, it feels like the strength just isn’t there.
A: Two cases. (1) You find mantra-recitation “troublesome” and drop it—that won’t do. A mantra is a tool for sweeping away delusion. If you don’t recite, have delusive thoughts vanished? No. (2) You recite until nothing can be recited—the mantra naturally drops away. That is excellent—but be sure it is because the mind has stilled, not because you’ve dozed off. If you’re nodding, the hand-seal collapses—wake up: open the eyes, lift the chest, recite audibly to disperse the sleep-demon. If you truly enter samādhi, the seal does not slump, even as the body feels empty—that is the real thing.

Q: During sitting a force seems to pry my hand-seal apart—several times in one sitting. How to stop it?
A: That’s qi stirring—no problem. Re-form the seal. Don’t fear pressure in the head, as if it would burst—fear makes it retreat. Even if it “bursts,” you won’t die; the body perishes, not buddha-nature. Do not chase visions of fierce deities or beasts; do not cling to visions of Buddhas either. If “a Buddha arrives with a treasure” and you “take it”—boom—body-mind shatters into emptiness—a metaphor for sudden letting-go. Don’t seek such things; they happen by grace, not by craving.

Q: When forming the seal, sometimes the hands feel heavy and won’t lift—why?
A: One of the eight tactile signs—heaviness. Others include lightness, enlargement/shrinking, numbness, itching, etc. Ignore them; they are fine.

Q: If I enter samādhi, might I not wake up?
A: Not in your current strength. Long samādhi comes only after several experiences of cessation of feeling and perception—but that dead samādhi is not what we want. True samādhi is lively—not dwelling and not deluded amid circumstances. As the Sixth Patriarch said: “Samādhi is not just sitting unmoving; samādhi is not being confused by circumstances.”

Q: In sitting I feel a great wind—as if to fly. What should I do?
A: Let it “fly.” You won’t fall; it’s consciousness floating, not the body.

Q: If, while counting toward a thousand sittings, I miss one or two, must I start over?
A: Best not to miss any. If you’ve missed, then henceforth don’t.

Q: What does “turn the light back to shine” mean?
A: Don’t look outward; look inward to the arising point of thoughts. As a thought arises, see it and don’t follow it. Don’t stare at a “point,” or “guard a gate”—that’s stiff. Be relaxed and at ease: “Ah, you came; I don’t heed you.” That’s turning the light back.

Q: Sometimes there’s a sudden jolt; sometimes I go dull and can’t continue—what then?
A: Jolts are qi—let them pass. Dullness must be cured: open eyes, lift chest, recite out loud, then continue sitting. Don’t quit and “lose a sitting.”

Q: I’ve done three hundred sittings; the seal still hurts. Are my karmic obstacles not gone?
A: Heavy obstacles—good! Sit more; pain burns karma. Don’t fear pain.

Q: If only the mind recites and the lips don’t move, is that good?
A: Pure silent recitation with lips clenched consumes blood and invites drowsiness. Moving the lips reduces both. Voicing harms qi; silent harms blood—so use vajra recitation (mind and lips moving lightly, without sound).

Q: Must Heart-Center practice be at the same time every day?
A: Morning, noon, or night are all fine; any place is fine. If you’re used to one time/place, switching may feel awkward for a few sessions—that’s habit, not principle.

Q: If a sitting runs past midnight, does it count for that day?
A: In this method, if you began before midnight, it still counts for that day. But you still sit again the next day.

(Q&A 13 — end, plus close)

Q: If I can’t find two continuous hours, what should I do?
A: Don’t skip the formal sitting. If you’ve already completed one full sitting and have extra time that’s less than two hours, you may use a convenience method during that leftover time. But if you haven’t done the two-hour sitting and only do convenience practice, that doesn’t count—it’s the same as missing a sitting. A simple convenience seal: place the right hand atop the left, palms up; form a small convenience mudrā by gently touching thumb and middle finger. Recite the same mantra a few dozen times; then let the full mantra go and sustain “oṃ…” a few dozen times; then stop reciting and simply watch.

Q: During sitting there suddenly appears a field of white light, and within it a bright point—what is this?
A: Do not attend to it. Our rule: no attachment to marks—“not allowed to see lights or see Buddhas.” In Esoteric terms, the white light is the radiance of our self-nature; the bright point is the eighth consciousness (ālayavijñāna)—but the eighth is still a consciousness; it’s not the goal. You must open it and see the nature. So ignore it; don’t be pleased.

Q: When mind-seeing and seeing one’s nature appears, is it an image or a real thing?
A: Test it now. “Cut!”—let a thought cease (not by saying the word, but by the thought actually ceasing). In that instant of no thought, do you see any image? Do you have any thing? No. What remains is numinous knowing—líng-zhī—lucid and bright. It is not an image, not a thing, and not nihilistic blankness. As Master Heze Shenhui said: “The single word knowing is the gate of myriad wonders.” Knowing with nothing in particular to know—that is our original face. Understand this—and then practice: protect it constantly with a buddha-name or a mantra (Chan masters have long held mantras in secret).

Q: When not sitting, may we recite the mantra without forming the seals?
A: Yes. Walking, working—even in the restroom—recite silently (vajra-recitation).

Q: In the fifth seal, the index finger should press the first crease of the ring finger, but I can’t reach—what then?
A: It will reach—draw back slightly after forming the loops. Pinch the two loops snug; keep the second joint of the middle finger outside the loop (visible), then lean the hand and gently draw back: it will settle into place. Key point: the middle finger’s second joint must be outside the loop; if it’s inside, the seal is wrong.

Q: If another mantra appears during sitting, should I ignore it?
A: Yes. Nearing samādhi, a more familiar mantra may surface. Don’t switch; gently return to the set mantra. Our goal is the point where no one recites and nothing is recited—when the mantra is gone, best of all.

Q: I’ve practiced over a hundred days; my third and sixth seals were incorrect. I’ve now corrected them and re-practiced the sixth.
A: Good. Correction is enough.

Q: After a person dies, where do they go?
A: They follow karma: wholesome leads to good destinies; unwholesome to bad. As practitioners, set your aim. Our grand-master was compassionate: choose Tuṣita’s Inner Court (recite Maitreya’s mantra) or the Land of Ultimate Bliss (recite the Vast Rebirth Dhāraṇī). Ultimately, self-nature has no place to go; it pervades space and the Dharma-realm. But because our attachment to marks is heavy, skillful means provide a destination to calm anxiety.

Q: Does the intermediate-state being (bardo) lack buddha-nature?
A: Apart from buddha-nature, nothing exists. The intermediate body is a phantom of the seventh consciousness; in that phase the wind element predominates (unlike our present bodies where earth predominates). A breeze “moves” it easily. Yet it is never apart from self-nature.

Q: What is the function of the Mantra of Light?
A: Vast: dispelling calamities, increasing blessings, prosperity, accomplishing undertakings, liberating the departed, and bringing aims to fruition. Its power is great. Earnest recitation especially aids the dead, even pulling one long fallen into an evil path up to heavenly rebirth. As for the syllables: mantras are secret—they are to be held and recited, not publicly explained.

Q: How many sittings per day?
A: If you’ve just begun, one sitting a day is enough. After one hundred, add more—two hours a day is too little; the strength is weak. Sit three or four if you can. Counting: multiple sittings count as one; but don’t use that as an excuse to slack—we sit to awaken, not to rack up numbers. My teacher urged us to do two or three consecutively—four to six hours in one stretch is excellent.

Q: Is seeking birth in the Land of Ultimate Bliss a form of grasping?
A: Not if the aim is Buddhahood to save beings, not pleasure-seeking. The phrase in the Amitābha Sūtra, “food and walking,” does not mean idle strolling after meals. “Food” here means feeding others—going throughout the ten directions to nourish beings with Dharma. Born there, we bear the responsibility to realize and save beings.

Q: When copying the Great Compassion Dhāraṇī, I sometimes feel irritated—why?
A: It shows the mind is far from empty. Recite more, sit more. The two-hour sitting in Heart-Center Dharma is precisely to refine away this irritability. Endure and sit through it; over time it ceases.

Q: My body sometimes grows cold in waves—what should I do?
A: In hot weather that might feel pleasant! Still, recite more and sit more; the body will adjust. I urge you to sit.

Q: May we use the Mantra for Filling Deficiencies?
A: You may. After a sitting, recite it seven times if you wish.

Q: When reciting the Mantra of Light, should we form a seal?
A: Yes. Left hand: vajra-fist—thumb pressing the third crease of the ring finger; the other three fingers press the thumb; the index finger presses on the thumb’s knuckle. Right hand: palm extended, five fingers open—radiating great light. Vajra-fist + radiating light is the seal.

Q: Is there a hand-seal for the heart of the Śūraṅgama Dhāraṇī?
A: Yes: ring fingers touch; other fingers do not touch; wrists together.

Q: Knowing that the one who can know and act is buddha-nature, how can one be reborn without delusion?
A: That requires cultivation. Only from the eighth bhūmi upward can one be reborn without forgetting. Below that, there is forgetfulness under the veil. Begin now: don’t chase liquor, sex, wealth, and pride; refine yourself amid circumstances; sit more; wear away habits until there is nothing to practice and no one who practices—when the mind is truly empty and pure, you can do it.

Q: If I practice two or three sittings a day, may I sit them consecutively?
A: Yes—consecutive is best (4–6 hours). If you can’t yet, split them (morning and night) and build up. Don’t be over-hasty; haste makes waste. Split sittings are less effective; consecutive strengthens samādhi.

Q: After one hundred sittings, should we read the grand-master’s books and compare ourselves? Why?
A: Reading increases wisdom. Many cushion problems are answered in his instructions; Chan cases also help—they are the experiential words of the Patriarchs. Reading prevents blind alleys (e.g., mistaking dead samādhi for the real).

Q: How should we recite the Mantra for Filling Deficiencies?
A: (Instruction given.) In truth, it’s not necessary. Don’t rely on a mantra to “fill what’s lacking”; rely on a pure mind. Chasing numbers is a mistake. What matters is quality—a mind truly pure, without rising thoughts. Our lineage didn’t teach this “filling” mantra; it was added later to accommodate people’s wishes. Ultimately, when the mantra itself has fallen away, what is there to fill?

Q: After a hundred sittings, if I fear I won’t awaken even by a thousand, should I add the Maitreya mantra or the Vast Rebirth Dhāraṇī?
A: You’ve misunderstood. Those mantras align with your destination (Tuṣita or Ultimate Bliss); they’re not about “powering up” awakening. If you truly practice—on the cushion, mind recites and ear hears; off the cushion, seamless observation—no one fails to awaken. Everyone has buddha-nature; with the Buddhas’ blessing, how could you not? It’s only that you’ve been distracted.

Q: If, while sitting, an urgent affair suddenly arises, or the body feels especially unwell, may I pause?
A: What is most urgent? Birth and death. Don’t invert priorities. Master Yinguang pasted a huge “Death” on his wall to warn himself constantly. Impermanence is swift—do the most urgent thing first.

Q: “Reading books is good”—is that attachment to Dharma?
A: If you read for benefit and practice what’s taught, it is not attachment. Memorizing words without practice is attachment. Read to gain benefit; do as instructed—best of all.