Original Chinese Article: https://www.bfnn.org/bookgb/books/0162.htm#a10

English Translation:

A Brief Treatise on Apprehending Mind and Beholding Nature

By Elder Yuanyin

Serialized in Chan (Zen) Magazine, Issues of January–April 1991

Prefatory Remarks

We sentient beings, from beginningless, vast eons, have lost our original face; we take the false for the true, call the servant the lord, and from delusion give rise to greed and anger, create karma and receive retribution. Like the spring silkworm spinning its cocoon, we bind and fetter ourselves with no time of liberation. The foolish do not know and accept their afflictions with resignation, not seeking liberation. The wise, though they know birth-and-death is a matter of great urgency and the sea of suffering has no shore, wish to seek liberation yet bitterly find no gate. As with the six heretical teachers of antiquity who investigated the dependent arising of the universe and the myriad things: if they did not say “a divine Self,” they posited a dark principle or annihilationism. Today’s science and philosophy investigate the root of human life and the myriad things; if they do not speak of dualism, they speak of monism. Each speaks with apparent precision, exhausting subtlety and mystery, yet all are like blind men feeling an elephant—there is nothing correct there.

Śākyamuni Buddha, compassionate toward beings, seeing that there was no way for them to leave suffering, manifested in the world to teach and transform them. For forty-nine years, in accord with occasions, capacities, and conditions, he spoke the great and the small, the partial and the perfect, the sudden and the gradual—laying bare his innermost heart, patiently revealing two kinds of fundamental points: first, the fundamental root of beginningless birth-and-death; second, the originally pure essence of bodhi and nirvāṇa. In this way he clarified the mystery of life and the universe and disclosed the reason for the rounds of birth-and-death, so that beings might recognize their own original mind, behold their own original nature, return to the true constant, depart from birth-and-death, and bring the wheel of suffering to cessation.

We sentient beings are innately endowed with the Tathāgata’s wisdom, virtues, and marks—numinously luminous, empty, and quiescent—no different from the Buddha. Only because of ignorance and non-awakening, inverted clinging, and ceaseless agitation, we create karma and receive retribution; thus through shared karma mountains, rivers, and the great earth appear, and through distinct karma the twelve kinds of beings are drawn. Thus again and again, in cycles without end, birth-and-death turns ceaselessly. Now, if we wish to return to the original and depart from birth-and-death, we must first awaken and shatter ignorance. If ignorance is not shattered, one loses oneself and chases after things, gives rise to mind upon encountering conditions—then birth-and-death can never be ended.

Therefore, all sūtras and treatises and all dharma-gates revolve around this very center—apprehending mind and beholding nature—expounding and bringing it to light, so that people may awaken and break through delusive emotions, eliminate ignorance, depart from the false and return to the true, and get on the road home. The reason Buddhism differs from other teachings and surpasses the heterodox is that it strikes directly at the very root of beings’ birth-and-death and of their return to cessation—and this root lies in whether or not one apprehends mind and beholds nature. Thus apprehending mind and beholding nature is truly the quintessence of Buddhism, the crucial key to transcending birth-and-death.

For this reason, though sūtras and treatises are many and their expositions and commentaries may vary, the aim is one. Though the dharma-gates are broad and the skillful means diverse, their purpose does not differ. As it is said: skillful means have many gates; returning to the One has no two roads.

Alas, in this latter age of the Dharma, scholars within the teaching have gone greatly astray. Not only do they not dare to advocate and propagate the magnificent and profound aim and quintessence of this one generational teaching—“apprehending mind and beholding nature”—but they shy from it as from a tiger; they do not even dare to let the phrase “apprehending mind and beholding nature” appear on their lips or in their writings for widespread proclamation. Upon careful examination, the reasons are none other than the following:

(1) Practitioners of the Chan school, lacking teachers, have no one to guide them in their exertion, to give timely hints in accord with their capacity, to wield the tongs and hammer at the crucial juncture and cut off adhesions; and, at the most critical point, there is no one to open their true eye so they personally behold the original. The majority cling uniformly to one dead, rigid huàtóu—“Who is reciting the Buddha’s name?”—and struggle for decades without any news. Thus they take seeing one’s nature to be something profoundly difficult and unapproachable, elevate it high as a saintly realm, do not dare to aspire to it, and all the more do not dare to advocate and promote it.

(2) Most Pure Land practitioners say the Pure Land method is different from others: it advocates “transversal leap” to rebirth in the West and does not require apprehending mind and beholding nature. They do not realize that the Pure Land teaching is a great doctrine that universally embraces the three capacities. Although for those of inferior capacity it does not explicitly speak of apprehending mind and beholding nature and only emphasizes the transversal leap to the West, in fact it has already hidden within its practice the essential meaning of apprehending mind and beholding nature. Consider its practice: while reciting the Buddha’s name, one must “gather in the six faculties, so that pure mindfulness continues without interruption.” Is not “gathering in the six faculties” precisely “putting everything down”? If one does not put everything down, how can one tightly close the gates of the six faculties and gather seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing into a single Buddha-name? As for the phrase “pure mindfulness continues without interruption,” its meaning is deep and broad; leaving detailed explanation for below, let us speak only from the surface of the words: to use a pure mind to recite the Buddha without break is precisely to instruct people to use the Buddha’s name to shift delusive thoughts continuously and intimately. Because people cannot be without thought—if not mindful of Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, then they are mindful of greed, anger, and delusion—one skillfully uses a single Buddha-name to replace delusive thoughts, so that, unawares, one transforms the deluded mind into the Buddha-mind. Hence, “When the Buddha-name is cast into a chaotic mind, the chaotic mind cannot but become Buddha.” And what is a Buddha? If not apprehending mind and beholding nature, what else?

The school goes further: “To enter samādhi—this is foremost.” What is samādhi? Samādhi is concentration. When one reciting Buddha attains samādhi, the mind that recites and the Buddha who is recited fall away at once—precisely the time when faculties and objects drop off and the duality of agent and object is both absent. To recite Buddha to this point is precisely the Chan “bucket bottom falling out,” the moment of apprehending mind and beholding nature. What then remains of “Pure” and “Chan”? Thus Pure is Chan; Chan is Pure; Chan and Pure are not two households.

For those of inferior capacity, there is no need to speak much profound Chan principle: only instruct them to put down body and mind and uprightly recite; when emotions fall away and the mind is empty, realization naturally comes. For the superior capacity, one hearing brings immediate awakening; nothing more need be said. Thus in Pure Land, those of inferior and superior capacity most easily succeed. Those of middling capacity seem clever yet are not truly clever, seem dull yet are not truly dull: not truly clever, they cannot easily see through worldly conditions and put everything down; not truly dull, they are unwilling to plant their feet solidly and earnestly recite the Buddha; therefore they do not easily succeed.

Furthermore, in recent times Pure Land practitioners mostly seek to economize effort, relying solely on Amitābha’s welcoming to the West. They are unwilling to vigorously use the power of Buddha-recitation to sweep away the deluded mind’s habitual stains and transform themselves, while prettifying it as “ours is the other-power gate; we rely on other-power for cultivation.” When they hear of “single-mindedness without confusion,” they shake their heads, saying, “No need, no need! In Pure Land, only faith and aspiration are needed; Amitābha will naturally welcome us; whether one’s practice has power or not is of no importance.” Where, then, do they need “apprehending mind and beholding nature”! And where do they know that “single-mindedness without confusion; the blossom opens, one sees the Buddha and realizes the unborn” is a synonymous expression for apprehending mind and beholding nature!

(3) Many Esoteric practitioners incline toward marvels and supernormal powers; some even flaunt themselves before the world to satisfy their fame and profit, fundamentally disregarding the work of realizing the essence, awakening to the Way, and ending birth-and-death—turning the great Esoteric teaching into something full of demonic air. The Esoteric banner of becoming Buddha in this very life or very body—that is, apprehending mind and beholding nature—has long been thrown beyond the ninth heaven.

Since our country’s three major schools are in such decline and confusion, the other schools that survive only in name need not be mentioned. Thus the entire brilliant and resplendent Buddhism has been spoiled into a smoky, foul mess by its unworthy descendants; how can latecomers know where the spirit of Buddhism lies! How could they cultivate their person and nurture their nature, return to naturalness, and free themselves from birth-and-death! Speaking of it, how could it not make one grieve to the marrow!

Furthermore, Buddhism is the great teaching that educates people to understand truth, abandon delusive views, turn from evil to good, leave crookedness and return to the straight, and transform humankind; it is the wholesome Dharma that awakens people from dream and delusion, frees them from grasping, from selfishness, and brings them to devote their strength in service to the many, seeking welfare for all beings—benefiting the multitudes universally. Still more, it is the wondrous Dharma that leads beings to abandon confusion and realize the true, to lay down their heavy burden (the things that adhere in the mind), and to live lightly and happily, meaningfully and valuably, gaining true benefit. Therefore it is a religion of tremendous, realistic, positive significance for society and nation. For all social unrest and national turmoil without exception arise from people’s three evil roots: greed, anger, and delusion. Because material desire burns hot and greed swells high, people use every means to commit crimes like embezzlement and malfeasance, speculation and profiteering, smuggling and bribery, even conspiracy and rebellion, cliquism and private gain. Buddhism cuts directly into these three poisonous roots—greed, anger, and delusion.

As for the movement of the world and the lot of humankind, they are all the karmic retributions summoned by people’s own ignorant, delusive agitation and attachment to conditions. In other words, they are all self-made and self-received; it is not the doing of ghosts or gods. Moreover, as long as people swiftly awaken, recognize their own original mind and behold their own original nature, everyone can become a Buddha. The Buddha advocates complete equality without class distinctions—a vast and broad teaching. Hence many maintain that Buddhism is non-religion.

Furthermore, looking at Buddhism’s aim, the complete-teaching takes the most ultimate point of view and says there is no birth-and-death to be ended, no nirvāṇa to be realized, no Buddha and no beings, all dharmas empty. To give rise to a single thought is already to deviate from its own tenet; as it is said, “To raise the mind is already wrong; to stir a thought is already contrary.” It takes “having nothing as its doctrine” as its doctrine. “Having nothing as its doctrine” is Buddhism’s true doctrine; to have something as one’s doctrine already falls into partial views. Thus many also call Buddhism non-religion. But they seem to forget that although Buddhism takes “having nothing as its doctrine,” it is not without a pivot; there is still the “doctrine of having no doctrine,” and so it is not non-religion. What Buddhism speaks is the dialectical truth: because it has nothing as its doctrine, it should not be called a religion; because it takes “having nothing as its doctrine” as its doctrine, it should not be called non-religion. Neither empty nor existent, neither existent nor empty—this is Buddhism’s aim of not establishing the two extremes of the middle way. To understand this aim, one must apprehend mind and behold nature! From this it is clear that apprehending mind and beholding nature is the most crucial topic for learners of the Buddha.

Since apprehending mind and beholding nature is so important to students of the Buddha, then what exactly is its content? How can one realize it? What is the scene (domain) when it is realized? What functions does it have afterward? These are questions learners of the Buddha both long to understand and must urgently research. In order to be clear and easy and to facilitate readers’ realization, we will explain briefly as follows.

(A) The Meaning of “Apprehending Mind and Beholding Nature”

Put briefly and comprehensively, “apprehending mind and beholding nature” means: by thoroughly investigating the forms and functions of people’s “mind” (the original mind), one penetrates, comprehends, and spiritually intuits the wondrous essence and true principle of the source of life—“nature” (the original nature)—so as to awaken from delusive dreams, end birth-and-death, and realize great nirvāṇa. Analyzed in detail, its meaning is exceedingly deep and vast, for it is the quintessence of this generational teaching; one can say that the Tripiṭaka and twelve divisions are all its footnotes. For now we can only select its essentials and speak of them in outline.

Before discussing the content of “apprehending mind and beholding nature” and how to do it, let us first sketch the contours of mind and nature to facilitate analysis.

What then is “mind”? And what is “nature”? “Mind” does not mean the lump of flesh in our chest; rather, it is the thoughts and ideas that arise in relation to conditions. The Buddhist scriptures call this the “reflections of the six dusts”: the faded shadows of form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and dharmas—abbreviated as “arising in collection is called mind.” The meaning is: originally we have no mind—no thoughts or ideas; only because there are conditions such as forms and the like do we receive their images from various particular conditions, produce cognition, distinguish sameness and difference, establish names, give rise to love and hatred, acceptance and rejection, and actions—thus all sorts of mental thoughts arise. This mind arises in conjunction with environment; it does not arise one-sidedly and alone, and so it is called “arising in collection is called mind.” This is just like the modern theory that “thought is the reflection of objective environment.” If one speaks in detail of its forms and contents, the Yogācāra Treatise on Establishing Only-Consciousness speaks clearly: it can be divided into eight principal minds and fifty-one mental factors. To save time and space, we will not elaborate here; readers may study the Establishing Only-Consciousness Treatise themselves.

If mind is thus, then what is “nature”? Nature is the root from which mind arises, the origin of mind. Modern theories consider it the energy that gives rise to mind: without it, mind cannot arise in relation to conditions. Our ability to give rise to mind in relation to conditions is entirely its function. It is formless and imageless, and so the eye cannot see it; but it can produce all sorts of functions, therefore it truly exists. The ancients likened it to glue-blue within color, or the taste of salt within water: though not visible to the eye, it is in fact functioning. In the scriptures it has many names: the one true dharma realm, suchness, Tathāgata-garbha, Buddha-nature, true mind, great perfect prajñā, and so forth. Only because beings are deluded and unawakened, not knowing there is this wondrous essence, have they, from beginningless time, only joined with birth-and-death and amalgamation and become the deluded mind. Thus mind and nature are originally one, like water and waves—not two different things. Today the world advances by leaps largely through automation; and automation relies on thermal energy. Without thermal energy there is no power; without power all is motionless and dead. Likewise, our ability to think, work, and create inventions relies on the power within, and this power is the function of nature. Therefore, though nature cannot be seen with the eye, it truly functions—just as electricity cannot be seen, yet all illumination and motive force are its function. In the scriptures, nature is called “essence” (tǐ), and mind is “function” (yòng); nature is the principle (lǐ), mind is the affair (shì). Yet within the Chan school they often use the two interchangeably—calling mind “nature” and nature “mind.” As long as we penetrate their inner purport and clarify their demarcation, we will not be confused.

Having understood the appearance and definition of mind and nature, we must further investigate how “nature”—the source of life—gives rise to mind in relation to conditions; why do conditions arise so that birth-and-death continues without end? Still more, we must understand what the implications of “apprehending mind and beholding nature” encompass; how can one apprehend it and behold it and thereby depart from birth-and-death? Let us now divide this into five sections and discuss in detail.

(1) To apprehend mind and behold nature is to discern that mind is delusive and unobtainable; when the frantic mind is stilled, one beholds the true nature.

If we people wish to be free of birth-and-death, we must first know its origin. One who would cut off the flow must first know where the source lies; only then can one plug the source, cut off the flow, and roam at ease beyond birth-and-death. How then did the mass of beings come to bob up and down endlessly within the six destinies? The Buddha Śākyamuni told us in two succinct lines: “The three realms are only mind; the myriad dharmas are only consciousness.” Analyzed, this means: all beings are innately endowed with the Tathāgata-store nature: it is the unarising and unceasing, untainted and pure, neither coming nor going, imageless and numinously responsive, omnipotent essence; it is beyond delusion and awakening; in essence it transcends ordinary and sage. But beings, not knowing and unawakened, with no experience, do not know that the wondrous essence is originally luminous; they give rise to a single thought that “recognizes illumination,” and using their innate wondrous enlightening radiance, they conjure it into a deluded “illumination that is illuminated.” Taking what was originally one—awareness and illumination (awareness is illumination; illumination is awareness; there is no duality)—they divide it into awareness opposed to illumination: awareness outside illumination, illumination outside awareness; awareness is what illumination illuminates, illumination is what awareness is aware of; thus agent and object stand together. This is what the Śūraṅgama Sūtra calls “taking the luminous of essential awareness as the awareness of illumination—deluded to be ‘illumination that is aware.’” Because of this ignorance (this “illumination that is aware” is what we ordinarily call ignorance), deluded regarding the originally complete luminosity, they turn the innate imageless suchness into ālaya-consciousness (like a normal person intoxicated with strong liquor). Thus the numinously luminous true emptiness turns into a stubborn void; within that stubborn void, ignorance moves delusively and coagulates into the four great delusive elements (the Tathāgata-store nature is innately endowed with the capacities of earth, water, fire, and wind; through delusive stirring, their appearances manifest; the world is the condensation of these four great elements). This is what the Śūraṅgama Sūtra calls “Deluded, there appears an empty space; relying on space, the world is established.” Because there are the four great delusive elements, the innate light of wisdom turns into delusive seeing, and then takes those delusive elements as the object seen. Long habituated to delusive seeing, it then seizes and appropriates a small portion of the four great elements as “I”; thus delusive seeing entrusts itself to the four greats as “my body”—that is, the eight consciousnesses wrapped in ignorance hide within the bodily faculties; the four greats are originally insentient, but because delusive seeing appropriation occurs, they come to have sentience. The true mind is measureless; now sealed by ignorance, it hides within the four greats and is taken as the mind. This is called “form mixed with delusive thought; the appearance of thought becomes the body”—the five aggregates are the “sentient being.” Also as the Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: “When perception is cleared, lands are formed; when knowing and feeling arise, there are sentient beings.”

From this we see that the body–mind and world arise through the fault of a single thought that “recognizes illumination” (that is, ignorance). Having lost their original nature and taken things as self, beings chase after external conditions, are deluded and attached without letting go, create karma and receive retribution, and turn in birth-and-death without cease. The scriptures say: “When mind arises, all dharmas arise; when dharmas arise, all minds arise.” Seeds bring forth manifestations; manifestations again perfume seeds; causes bring about results; results again summon causes—cause with result, result with cause—round and round without end. Thus beings, from the place of no birth-and-death, vainly suffer the pains of the rounds of birth-and-death without rest!

Therefore I say: our mind is delusive and unreal. It is only the faded shadow of the six dusts; and the six dusts (that is, the things of the world) are themselves conjured through the delusive knotting of ignorance—originally unobtainable. The scriptures say: “Not produced from itself, not produced from another, not produced jointly, not produced without cause.” Then the delusive mind that arises from it is delusion within delusion. Modern philosophers also say that “mind” is the reflection of objective matter; but they only say that mind arises from matter without stating how matter arises—they do not speak as comprehensively as the Buddhist scriptures. The Buddha says: “Mind is not mind from itself; because of things there is mind. Things are not things from themselves; because of mind there are things.” This clearly states the principle that mind and things are mutually cause and effect and arise delusively.

Since both mind and things are delusive and unobtainable, when one suddenly awakens from the dream and realizes that body–mind and world are originally empty—this is apprehending mind. In that originally empty place, it is not like wood or stone, insentient and unaware; rather it is void and luminous, perfectly clear; though perfectly clear, it is silently unmoving, with not a single thought arising. What is this? This extraordinary yet ordinary scene—what else could it be but our own unarising and unceasing, eternally abiding true suchness itself! When this very self-essence is suddenly laid bare, seizing it all at once is called personally realizing one’s original face; it is also called beholding one’s nature.

“Beholding nature” does not mean using the eyes to see some thing; it is the mind-ground Dharma-eye’s intimate, deep, and thorough realization and spiritual reception. The scripture says: “At the very moment of seeing seeing, what is seen is not seeing.” Thus apprehending mind and beholding nature is to thoroughly behold the true nature when delusive knowing and delusive views are shattered, when the frantic mind ceases, and when body and mind fall away.

For example, when the Second Patriarch, Great Master Shén-guāng, saw the First Patriarch Bodhidharma, he said, “My mind is not at peace; I beg the Master to pacify it.” The Patriarch said, “Bring me your mind and I will pacify it for you.” After a long time the Master said, “I have sought this mind and cannot obtain it.” The Patriarch then, following the current, said, “I have pacified it for you completely!” At those words the Master greatly awakened. This is precisely to, at the place where “seeking mind is unobtainable” (when the prior thought is cut off and the subsequent thought has not yet arisen), thoroughly behold this lucid numinous awareness that does not fall into annihilation (although thoughts are cut off at that moment, it is not like wood or stone, insentient). The marvel of this kōan lies in the fact that mind arises in collection and is delusive and has no real source; when pursued, it vanishes into nothing. But though thoughts cease and empty, the capacity (namely, nature) does not perish; those who are capable at this very moment throw their spirit into it, turn the light around and recognize it—this is beholding nature. As for the indestructibility of energy, modern scientists all acknowledge it. Of all energies, none surpasses the energy of nature: because nature is imageless, supremely great and supremely firm—so great nothing is outside it; so small nothing is inside it; it can crush everything, while nothing can crush it; thus it cannot be measured or compared. It is nature that is reborn in the six destinies to suffer and enjoy; it is also nature that, having ended birth-and-death, roams beyond. Therefore, to end birth-and-death one must apprehend mind and behold nature.

(2) To apprehend mind and behold nature is to understand that all the wondrous functions of mind arise relying upon the essence of nature; from function one sees the essence; from the flow one attains the source.

An ancient worthy said: “Essence has no form or image; without function it does not manifest. Nature has no shape or appearance; without mind it is not clear.” By arousing function one precisely reveals essence; by apprehending mind one can behold nature. This means: to behold nature, one must work through apprehending mind; apart from mind there is no nature to behold. Because the essence of nature has no image and cannot be seen, while mind is function, and function without attributes is not evident—only from the manifest function of mind with attributes can one see the imageless essence of nature. As stated above, our thinking, working, creation, invention, and even the civilization of the present world are all the functions of mind. To behold nature, one must see it through these functions; apart from function, there is no nature to behold. Just as with worldly affairs and principle: affairs cannot be accomplished without principle; principle does not manifest without affairs. Principle establishes precisely so affairs are accomplished; when affairs are accomplished, principle is revealed. Principle is affairs; affairs are principle; principle and affairs are not two. Thus to see principle, one must see it through affairs; apart from affairs, there is no principle to behold.

For example, the “King of Different Views” asked Venerable Bāluótí, “What is Buddha?” The Venerable said, “Seeing nature is Buddha.” The king said, “Have you seen nature?” The Venerable said, “I see Buddha-nature.” The king said, “Where is this nature?” The Venerable said, “Nature is in function.” The king said, “What function? I do not see it now.” The Venerable said, “Its bright manifest function—the king does not see it himself!” The king said, “Is it present in me?” The Venerable said, “If the king is functioning, there is nothing that is not it; if the king is not functioning, the essence is hard to see.” The king said, “When it functions, in how many places does it appear?” The Venerable said, “When it appears, there are eight.” The king said, “Speak to me of these eight.” The Venerable said, “In the womb it is called body; in the world it is called person; in the eye it is called seeing; in the ear it is called hearing; in the nose it discriminates scent; in the tongue it engages discourse; in the hand it grasps and holds; in the foot it travels and runs. It pervasively appears, encompassing the entire dharma realm, yet can be gathered into a single mote. Those who know recognize this as Buddha-nature; those who do not call it ‘the spirit-soul.’” Hearing this, the king awakened.

Again, in the Diamond Sūtra, why did the World-Honored One, before teaching, first insert the episode of donning robe, taking bowl, entering the city, begging for food, and then arranging his seat and sitting? It was to arouse in the assembly the potential for imageless prajñā; he had to make use of the visible forms of the six perfections. Without essence there can be no function; all the functions before our eyes, in each and every place, are turning back to reveal the imageless essence of prajñā. But we people do not recognize this, and so the Buddha borrowed these affairs-with-form to secretly show the imageless wondrous essence and lead us to enter the perfection of prajñā.

Nature truly is not nonexistent, but it cannot be heard with the ear, cannot be seen with the eye, cannot be known by knowing, cannot be cognized by consciousness; it can be illumined by wisdom, wondrously contemplated, intuited, spiritually received. Hence, “Just thus is intuitive realization, and intuitive realization is just thus.” The secret practices of the six perfections are the Buddha’s teaching without opening his mouth. In this way prajñā’s light shone, and Subhūti, resonating with it, immediately matched the occasion and conditions, rose from his seat and asked—thereby completing the marvelous scripture, the Diamond Prajñā.

(3) To apprehend mind and behold nature is to realize that mind is originally absent and nature is originally present.

As stated above, mind and nature are like affairs/function and principle/essence. Affairs and function have forms and images, visible to the eye, but they are seemingly existent yet actually empty, due to being dependently arisen and empty in nature. The principial essence has no images to be seen, but it is seemingly absent yet actually present, because though empty in nature it gives rise to conditions. The two complement each other: apart from essence there is no appearance; apart from appearance there is no essence. Thus: neither empty nor existent; both empty and existent; empty is precisely existent. We must not only be unattached to all appearances and avoid falling to one side, but also, through the delusively arisen appearances, clearly behold the true essence of nature.

The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: “The nature of form is true emptiness; the nature of emptiness is true form.” The essence of nature is true emptiness—without form or image; imageless true emptiness is precisely the essence of nature. All forms with attributes are delusive forms; delusive forms have no essence, like flowers in the sky or the moon in water—unobtainable, mere delusive imagining. Therefore the Heart Sūtra says: all is nonexistent—there are no worldly eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind, nor form, sound, scent, taste, touch, dharmas; there are also no śrāvakas’ and pratyekabuddhas’ suffering, origin, cessation, path, nor the twelve links of dependent arising; still less are there bodhisattvas’ wisdom and attainment. Only at the place where all is unobtainable does one attain anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi. This reveals that we, at the place where mind is originally absent, thoroughly behold the originally present essence of nature.

In the Chan school this is called “exhausting and eliminating” and “reliance on nothing.” For example, Layman Páng asked Mazu, “Who is the one who does not associate with the myriad things?” Mazu said, “Wait until you can drink in the waters of the West River with one gulp; then I will tell you.” When thoughts are utterly exhausted and empty and existent both vanish, the wondrous essence of true emptiness naturally appears. Or, as with the modern Chan Master Chǔquán, who visited the Patriarch Fǎzǔ of Chìshān. One day the Patriarch asked, “The Lotus Sūtra speaks of opening, showing, awakening, and entering the Buddha’s knowledge and vision; throughout the generations the patriarchs each had their expositions, but all are the patriarchs’ own and do not pertain to you. Now I want you to speak of opening, showing, awakening, and entering the Buddha’s knowledge and vision out of your own breast. How will you open, show, awaken, and enter?” The Master was silent. The Patriarch sighed, “To investigate Chan like this is to waste your time; what use is it?” and punished him to kneel and meditate. For the time of three sticks of incense he sat; when the timekeeper struck the board, he suddenly awakened. The Patriarch examined him: “How do you open the Buddha’s knowledge and vision?” He replied, “Open what is originally present.” The Patriarch asked, “How do you show?” He said, “Show what is originally absent.” The Patriarch asked again, “How do you awaken?” He said, “Awaken to no having and no not-having.” Again he asked, “How do you enter?” He said, “Enter with no obstruction between going out and coming in.”

(4) To apprehend mind and behold nature is to awaken that mind is precisely nature and nature is precisely mind.

Chan Master Zhēnjué said: although mind and nature seem to have the distinction of essence/function and principle/affairs, in actuality they are neither one nor different. From the perspective of affairs, wondrous function follows conditions and responds, manifesting the myriad categories with apparent forms and images; yet the wondrous essence is unmoving, free of all contraries, apart from all appearances. Therefore it is not “one.” But function issues from essence and does not leave essence; essence can issue function and does not leave function. From the perspective of not leaving each other, therefore they are not “different.” The scriptures say: “All affairs and appearances are the manifestation of nature.” Though affairs and appearances differ, divided into categories with their differences, their nature is one. Thus: “There is nothing that does not flow from this dharma realm; there is nothing that does not return to this dharma realm.”

A bright mirror does not fail to reflect images, and there are no images that are not a bright mirror; all reflections are from the bright mirror, and without the mirror there are no reflections. Mind and nature are also thus: nature is the true empty wondrous essence, and mind is the function with attributes and images. Thus, where there is the essence of nature there is necessarily function with attributes; without attributes there is nothing by which essence is revealed. Therefore, appearance is precisely nature, and nature is precisely appearance; apart from appearance there is no nature, and apart from nature there is no appearance. It is not like a stubborn void—murky and unresponsive, dead and insentient—falling into annihilation.

Beings, deluded, take the head and recognize the shadow; they cling to appearances and create karma and therefore attract the defiled land of the five turbidities. Buddhas, beholding nature, dismiss appearances; pure and undefiled, they realize the adorned Pure Lands. Though true/false and pure/defiled differ, the nature that manifests the appearances is one. We need only convert our error of “recognizing the shadow and dismissing the mirror” into “recognizing the mirror and dismissing the shadow,” and the defiled land is immediately the Pure Land—it is not necessary to wait until after death to be reborn. The scripture says: “As the mind is purified, the Buddha-land is purified; if you wish to purify the land, first purify your mind.” This has good reason.

“True emptiness and wondrous presence” means we exclude a stubborn void: function arises from essence. Because it is true emptiness, it can follow conditions; because it is wondrous presence, it can give rise to function. “Wondrous presence is true emptiness” means we exclude real existence: function is taken back into essence. Because following conditions gives rise to function, myriad delusive appearances appear; thus the Smaller Sukhāvatīvyūha speaks of the adornment of the Buddha-land. Because the essence is pure and undefiled, not stained by a single dharma, the Diamond Sūtra says “not a single thing is established.” “Not a single thing is established” is precisely the adornment of the Buddha-land, and the adornment of the Buddha-land is precisely “not a single thing is established.” Thus the “Diamond” is the “Amitābha,” and “Amitābha” is the “Diamond”—not two.

Mind and nature seem different in body and appearance, yet in truth they are as one—like water and waves. Water takes wetness as its essence; waves take movement as their appearance. The nature of water and the appearance of waves seem not one, but waves are precisely water, and water is precisely waves; wetness is not different. Therefore one who truly beholds nature can see the Way not only with the mind-ground Dharma-eye, but even with the fleshly eye can thoroughly behold true nature—because nature is precisely appearance and appearance is precisely nature. The ancients said, “Amid the myriad images, one’s body alone is plainly revealed!” And again, “Mountain rivers and the great earth wholly reveal the Dharmarāja’s body!” This points out that the myriad things of this world are all the manifestation of our nature-essence.

The Diamond Sūtra says, “If one sees that all appearances are not appearances, one thereby sees the Tathāgata.” If we can thoroughly investigate this principle and, in daily life, behold nature through appearances—taking no appearance as an appearance—then right there we transcend all existence and roam beyond the three realms! When Venerable Shēng preached, stubborn rock nodded its head; the sentient and the insentient equally realized the seed-wisdom. Whatever the eye sees and the ear hears, none is not the Buddha. In the Chan school this is called “directly pointing to mind and nature.” For example, Dàmèi asked Mazu, “What is Buddha?” The Patriarch said, “Mind itself is Buddha.” On hearing this, Dàmèi greatly awakened. Again, Língxùn asked Guīzōng, “What is Buddha?” Guīzōng said, “I am afraid that if I tell you now, you won’t believe it!” Língxùn said, “If the Master speaks sincerely, how could I not believe?” Guīzōng said, “It is precisely you.” Língxùn had insight at these words. See how decisive! How direct! How joyful!

(5) To apprehend mind and behold nature is to understand that mind and nature do not abide; not a single thing is established; one returns to having nothing to obtain.

Mind and nature are originally empty, numinous, and without abiding; only thus can there be wondrous function. If there is any abiding whatsoever, it becomes a nest. Mind and nature originally have not a single thing; to speak of empty and existent, delusion and awakening, true and false—all are mutually opposed dualities and are empty prattle. As it is said, “So long as there is talk, there is no real meaning.” When one thoroughly realizes the mind-source and clearly beholds true nature, delusion being gone, where can awakening stand? “Not standing” also cannot stand; there is not a single dharma to be obtained. Thus it is said: the emptiness of person is not true emptiness; one must also empty the self of dharmas, and empty even emptiness—only then have you truly returned home and sit securely. This is what the ancients called “having no attainment, nothing obtained; no cultivation, no realization”—and this is truly the attainment, the obtaining, the realization. If one takes oneself to have any dharma to obtain or any path to accomplish, one falls right into the attachment to holy positions: at the least, birth-and-death is not ended; even if one ends the birth-and-death of portions, one certainly cannot end the transformed birth-and-death, because attachment to dharmas is the obstacle to transformed birth-and-death. At the greatest, one goes mad and becomes a demon—the consequences are unthinkable!

As for the talk of “no cultivation, nothing obtained, no realization,” this is the speech of those who have arrived at the homeland and are free; it is also the initial “cause-stage method” for those who understand the Tathāgata’s secret intent. Because beings are originally Buddha and are not made Buddha by cultivation, but only because they are unawakened and lose themselves chasing things—pursuing external conditions—they have fallen into being sentient beings. Now if one awakes keenly—like a thousand-year dark room brightened by a single lamp—one immediately restores the original nature. What cultivation and realization is there to speak of? Hence, no need for toil and shoulder-work of cultivation and realization. Yet if the habitual stains are thick and the delusive grasping is deep, then though one understands this principle, encountering conditions one’s mind still arises; there is still the need for earnest and continuous sweeping away! Moreover, if one only understands in theory that beings are originally Buddha and has not personally beheld one’s nature but only planted the cause for future Buddhahood, then all the more one must diligently cultivate to realize personally. One must not open the big mouth and speak big words, deceiving self and others and dismissing cultivation and realization—thereby from careless abandon incurring disaster!

When one thoroughly realizes mind and nature and not a single dharma is established—no Buddha and no beings—one all day long seems foolish or dull and responds to conditions letting things take their course: all are Buddha affairs. As it is said, “Laughter and anger, cough and sigh, all are the Ocean-Seal’s light; putting on clothes and eating rice, carrying water and fetching firewood, nothing is not supernormal function and wondrous use!” Among these there is nothing to select or rely upon; therefore it is called “returning to having nothing to obtain.”

As soon as there is anything given weight, the gate of self-awakening is obstructed. Therefore, the great worthies of the Chan school are skilled at removing adhesions and untangling fetters, immediately causing learners to put down their heavy burden and open the gate of awakening. For example, seeing someone fall into the previous answer “mind itself is Buddha,” when another monk asked “What is Buddha?” Mazu replied, “Not mind, not Buddha!” When a monk asked Linji, “What is the person of no rank within the mass of red flesh?” Linji pushed him away and said, “What is the person of no rank worth to a dry shit-stick?” Again, as in the second kōan cited under section (4), when Língxùn, having insight at those words, asked, “How does one maintain this?” Guīzōng said, “A speck in the eye and flowers whirl through space!” These examples clearly show that true nature is without abiding and not a single thing is established. Therefore, to thoroughly awaken the true mind, we must neither attach to Buddha-seeking nor be enamored of marvels and supernormal powers!

Zhàozhōu said, “The single character ‘Buddha’—I do not like to hear it!” Later generations may find fault, saying he still “does not like”—but Zhàozhōu’s intent lies in cutting off legalistic views, showing that there is not a single dharma to be obtained and nothing to rely upon—not in liking or not liking. As for the fault of speaking, whenever there is talk there is residue; like the numinous turtle swinging its tail and sweeping away its tracks—though the tracks are gone, there remains the sweep-trace. Thus when the great worthies of the Chan school speak to the end, there is no way to open the mouth—they brush their sleeves and return to the abbot’s room to show the final point.

From the above it is evident that apprehending mind and beholding nature is truly the pivotal thread of Buddhism, the guiding standard for learners of the Buddha! If we truly wish to leave birth-and-death and accomplish the great Way, regardless of which school we cultivate, we must strive toward this great aim of apprehending mind and beholding nature. We must not retreat in fear of difficulty! All the schools’ gate-establishments and methods of cultivation are nothing but means to still the mind and halt thoughts, and these means all have apprehending mind and beholding nature as their aim. Therefore apprehending mind and beholding nature is the general principle for the schools of Buddhism; if one does not cultivate in accordance with this general principle, one is not a Buddhist. Furthermore, our birth-and-death is due to ignorance and non-awakening; if we do not awaken and shatter ignorance and let the light of wisdom blaze forth, how can we end birth-and-death? Therefore apprehending mind and beholding nature is the vital pass for ending birth-and-death and the hub for realizing the great Way. Followers of any school of Buddhism must not ignore it, deny it, or deviate from it; rather, they must exhaust their wisdom and courage and energy to strive to realize this grand aim!

(B) Establishing “Apprehending Mind and Beholding Nature”

Having discussed in detail the meaning of apprehending mind and beholding nature, we deeply know it vitally concerns Buddhism. If Buddhists all practice and propagate it and promote it, Buddhism will flourish and prosper; if not, Buddhism will languish, breathless and listless. The rise and fall of a religion depends on its spiritual substance; if there is only the shell without the essence, it must gradually decline. “Apprehending mind and beholding nature” is the general principle and the quintessence of Buddhism. Thus, all schools and every dharma-gate revolve around it, skillfully adapting to the different habits and distinct faculties of beings to establish many kinds of methods of cultivation, so as to promote and expand it. Though methods are many, the aim is one. If practitioners do not diligently and devoutly cultivate according to the rituals and dharma-gates established by their respective schools—if they merely burn incense and bow in order to seek some blessings—then they cannot attain the essential aim of their school: apprehending mind and beholding nature. Not apprehending mind and beholding nature, they naturally fail to reach the true aim of learning the Buddha. If Buddhism’s spiritual aim cannot be manifested, how could it not decline and wither day by day? Therefore, if we are to revive Buddhism, we must advocate apprehending mind and beholding nature!

Then, by what methods can we attain this aim? And which methods are the most rapid, simplest, and most feasible? In order to suit the preferences of practitioners of superior, middling, and inferior capacity and to make it convenient for those of different habits to quickly enter, we will select from the Chan, Pure Land, and Esoteric schools the simplest, quickest, and most convenient methods of cultivation and introduce them in detail below. As for the other schools, as mentioned above, they have only the name without the reality and lack genuine cultivators. For example, Tiantai has the methods of “Stopping and Seeing,” yet today practitioners all cultivate Pure Land. Huayan has the three contemplations, but those who cultivate do not cultivate contemplation; they enter either Chan or Pure Land. The Faxiang school also has the Yogācāra contemplations, but adherents of the school now only discuss doctrines, analyze terms, and do Buddhist studies without entering contemplation—and they even drink from separate rivers with the nature school, engaging in endless disputes. As for other schools like the Sanlun and so on, even the names and meanings have gradually faded from people’s minds. We will therefore set them aside for now and not discuss them. 

(1) The Chan School

When it comes to apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature, no method is more straightforward or more rapid than Chan. Chan is a special transmission outside the teachings: it does not establish written words, it points straight to the human mind so that one sees one’s nature and becomes a Buddha. It does not, like other schools, set up many circuitous rites and rules, having practitioners proceed step by step through gradual cultivation to slowly arrive at realization. It is as though one wished to enter a treasury of jewels: Chan has but a single door—open it, and you enter. Other schools have at least two doors, and often more than three or four.

For this reason, Chan is the orthodox lineage of Buddhism. Its house style is lofty and severe; its momentum vast and imposing. Talents emerged in succession; the atmosphere was boundless and kaleidoscopic; thus it alone was called the “gate of the school.” The flourishing of Chinese Buddhism depended on this school as the pillar in mid-current, single-handedly bearing the great beam. Sadly, by the time we come to recent generations, this lone “gateless gate” seems to have been blocked shut. Not only are able people few; gone without a trace is the vigorous bearing of the former great masters—those dragon-like and tiger-like adepts who could “loosen or tighten, seize alive or slay to bring to life,” who met situations with timely pointers and transformed people on contact. The so-called Chan of late—from south to north, from east to west, all over the world—only teaches people to investigate one fixed, rigid, dead “head of a saying”: “Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name?” If you ask for some expedient other than “Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name?”, they cannot extricate themselves; they say only that Chan must be investigated by oneself and there is no need to ask others. They cannot display a different eye and skill with adept disclosure so that students awaken on the spot. As a result, Chan practitioners grind away in bitter investigation for decades with no news at all; “apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature” comes to be regarded as a relic of history, put back on a high shelf. The Venerable Taixu lamented without limit: “Nowadays the sons and grandsons of Chan all transmit the Dharma by means of a scroll, not by transmitting the Dharma after apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature. As for those who call themselves nth-generation heirs of Linji, they are nothing but a blank sheet of paper. When did they ever awaken to Mind!” Can one hear such words and not feel heartbroken?

What is most crucial for Chan is the teacher’s capacity. That students can swiftly awaken depends entirely on a clear-eyed teacher who presses and tempers them from the side, giving timely pointers to break things open. Otherwise, for beings weighted by karmic obstructions, the mysterious pass is tightly shut, the lock of discursive consciousness is hard to open; how easy is it to rely on one’s own power and “investigate” one’s way through? But now that such teachers are so scarce, where can one seek a great hand with the master’s brush who will work for others with sincerity and skill? So all sorts of “wild fox spirits” hide themselves behind one stock, hearsay “head of a saying”—“Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name?” If you ask, “What is Buddha?” they tell you to go investigate “Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name?” You ask, “What is it that is neither mind, nor things, nor Buddha?” and they also tell you to investigate for yourself “Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name?” In short, outside of “Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name” there is no instruction at all. In this way, those above proceed and those below imitate, and Chan is turned into a mere empty name—a filthy mess. Is this not cause for pain and regret?

If this and that are both to be investigated by yourself, then what need have you of a Chan master? To speak plainly, it is not worth a laugh: the so-called “Chan master” has not opened the true eye and is a blind man with eyes wide open. If you ask such a one to work for others with expedient skill, is that not asking a blind man to make winsome eyes? Should one or two clear-eyed people say, “You need not investigate like that; use the direct-pointing method instead—point straight to how he is his original face and have him see his nature on the spot,” then they slander you as “wild-fox Chan.” Having toiled for decades with no news themselves, they suspect others also cannot see nature. They further say, “What the ancestral hall has transmitted is that investigating Chan means to investigate ‘Who is reciting the Buddha’s Name’; where is there any direct pointing?” This is “being unable oneself, and doubting others.” How could the Chan school not decline into despondency?

In fact, from ancient times Chan did not require investigating any “head of a saying” at all, but was a matter of direct instruction. As Layman Fu said: “Night after night I sleep embracing the Buddha; morning after morning I rise together with him. In rising and sitting he constantly accompanies me; in speaking and silence we dwell together. Not separated by a hair, like a body and its shadow. If you wish to know where the Buddha is, just this very voice is it.”

Master Baozhi’s “Great Vehicle Praise” and “Verses of the Twelve Hours” are both direct pointing. The last two lines of the Twelve Hours say: “For one who has not yet finished—listen to a single word: just this—who is moving the mouth right now?”—all the more direct, swift, and clear.

Master Huisi of Nanyue composed: “Heaven cannot cover it, earth cannot support it; no going, no coming, no obstruction. No long, no short, no blue, no yellow; not in between nor inside nor outside. Transcending the herd yet together with the crowd, too mysterious to be named; when one points to things to transmit the mind, people do not understand.” The Cloth-Bag Monk versified: “Only this mind, mind, mind is the Buddha—the most numinous thing in the worlds of the ten directions. Its free, unhindered functioning—alas!—is pitiable in living beings; nothing equals the mind’s reality.” And again: “I have a single body of Buddha which people in the world do not recognize. Not molded and not adorned; not carved or chiseled. Not a drop of ash or mud; not a speck of pigment. People cannot paint it; thieves cannot steal it. Its essence and characteristics are originally natural; purity is not from polishing.” Words of this kind are too many to exhaust. Even what is called “ancestral-master Chan” does no more than, at the point of the question that accords with the student’s capacity, lay on a coupling, remove the fixation, and, where the deluded mind does not function, compel a turn of the light to shine back and see through to what is originally so. For Chan is the treasury of the true Dharma-eye and the wondrous mind of nirvāṇa; it is a perfect and sudden gate. It belongs to awakening, not to cultivation. The great ones of old all said that the point is grasped in a single stroke, that before the sentence is finished the capacity is discerned, that seeing one’s nature one becomes a Buddha. Not one of them investigated a head of a saying and, with accumulation over time, “opened enlightenment.” The Sixth Patriarch, upon hearing someone recite the Diamond Sūtra, immediately awakened. After receiving instruction and certification from the Fifth Patriarch, when he instructed Huiming he only said: “Not thinking of good, not thinking of evil—just at that very time, which is the original face of Venerable Ming?” and Huiming awakened right then and there. Have you ever heard of instructing him to investigate any “head of a saying”?

To bring up this case of Huiming caused quite a dispute. Some said: “This is the Sixth Patriarch’s direct pointing. ‘Not thinking of good, not thinking of evil’—when a single thought has not arisen, that which is clearly evident without falling into annihilation is the original face. The word ‘that’ is the right way to take it.” Others said: “No, the word should be taken as ‘what’: you must have him investigate by himself; it is not a direct telling.” The two sides each held to their view and wrote reams of disputation, and still nothing was decided. In my foolish opinion, whether one takes it as “that” or “what” depends on the person. If one can, on the spot, take the Sixth Patriarch’s pointer to heart, then “what” is precisely “that.” If one is obtuse and vague, not knowing what’s what, then “that” becomes “what.” Why insist on distinguishing “that” from “what”? The sayings of Chan are a double-edged blade—one edge kills, one edge gives life—one must not fixate on a single edge. All the more since the great worthies of the past often used the method of direct pointing.

Thus Chan Master Linji instructed the assembly: “On this lump of red flesh there is a true person of no rank. Do you wish to know this person of no rank? Right now the one speaking Dharma and the one listening to Dharma are it.” A monk asked Huaihai, “What is Buddha?” Hai said: “Plain talk face to face—if not the Buddha, what else?” Again, as cited above, a monk asked Guizong, “What is Buddha?” Zong said, “It is precisely you!” Cases like this are beyond counting. How direct and how delightful such instructions are! If we were to use the method of direct pointing in teaching students, not having them investigate any “head of a saying,” could we not also cultivate some able people? But unfortunately many disparage direct pointing, saying that as far back as Shitou the method was denied by Master Yaoshan. When the official Yu Xiu asked Chan Master Ziyu, “What is Buddha?” Ziyu called, “Honorable Official!” Yu responded, “Yes!” Ziyu said, “It is just this—there is nothing else,” and the official had a realization. Was this not direct pointing? But Yaoshan, hearing of it, said: “Official Yu Xiu has been buried under Mount Ziyu”—did he not refuse direct pointing? Later, when Yu Xiu heard Yaoshan’s words, he formed a great doubt and went again to visit Yaoshan. The Master said, “If you have doubts, just ask.” The official asked, “What is Buddha?” Yaoshan also called, “Honorable Official!” The official responded, “Yes!” Yaoshan seized the opportunity and pursued, “What is it?!” The official greatly awakened. Look how powerful that question was! Could such a great awakening be achieved by direct pointing!

Hearing this, I could not help but laugh: “You gentlemen know one side and not the other.” The method of direct pointing takes many forms; it is not cut from a single pattern. The reason Yaoshan would not simply approve Ziyu’s reply was that he wanted to test whether the official’s “heels were truly on the ground.” If someone is truly awakened, even if a Buddha appeared in the world, it would be as though he neither heard nor saw. If not truly awakened, he cannot help but “turn under others’ heels.” For example, after Mazu told Damei that “Mind itself is Buddha,” he later sent an attendant to test him with “Not mind, not Buddha.” Damei, however, had thoroughly awakened without doubt, and when the attendant came to test him he rebuked Mazu: “That old fellow confuses people’s minds!”—not shaken in the least. Yu Xiu, by contrast, had not yet set his heels on the ground. At a single hearing he fell into doubt, unlike Damei. When he came to Yaoshan and again asked as before, Yaoshan, not to betray his question, changed the style of direct pointing, hinting that it was precisely the “Yes” that was Buddha, so that he could grasp it. Since the official had asked, “What is Buddha?” the reply had to stay with the place of the question—answering him as to what is Buddha—and could not be about something else; otherwise it would not answer what was asked. Therefore, after the official’s “Yes,” the Master pursued, “What is it?!”—was this not tantamount to telling him plainly that the very “Yes” is Buddha? So this “interrogative-form” answer is another kind of direct pointing by way of hint; it looks like a question, but read with what precedes and follows, it amounts to an affirmation. Ziyu and Yaoshan differed in phrasing, but their method was one. Without Ziyu’s explicit affirmation first, the dim-sighted, hearing only Yaoshan’s interrogative “What is it?”, would likely take it as a mere question again! As to later generations: why were such methods not used, and why was there a switch to investigating “heads of sayings”? Because people’s minds have grown perilous and fickle, their roots more and more shallow and inferior. If one uses direct pointing, the quick and clever may grasp it, but because what they got came too effortlessly and too easily, they do not value it. Like a foppish heir who inherits his father’s estate without sweat and toil, not knowing how hard it came, he squanders wildly and ends in poverty, dying in a far land. Such people cannot appreciate the patriarchs’ compassionate sincerity in working for others; instead they treat it lightly, refusing to abide by instruction and carefully maintain and nurture the Way, dissolve false habits, and verify the true fruit. As for the dull, though given a hundred kinds of pointers and explanations, because they see no “special powers or mysterious wonders,” they think it is not “it,” refuse to take it up, and ever seek Dharma outside the mind in hope of some magical effect. Those who lead the Dharma, though pained to the marrow and wishing that all might see their nature on the spot and become Buddhas, cannot “press a cow’s head to make it eat grass” and take over on their behalf. Thus, of necessity, from the time of Great Wisdom Zonggao of the Song, the approach changed to investigating “heads of sayings” (though before there was also huatou practice, it had not yet become the prevailing fashion). With a “head of a saying” that has no semantic flavor, one lodges it on the student’s mind so that a great ball of doubt is born. It is like swallowing a thorny chestnut burr: you can neither swallow it down nor spit it out. The entire body-mind is pressed into the mass of doubt—walking, you do not know you walk; sitting, you do not know you sit; and all discursive thoughts and imaginings are, without one’s noticing it, entirely transformed into doubt. When time and conditions arrive—that is, when the work is ripe—the bottom of the bucket falls out; at the crossroads you bump into your own father. Then you know that all you did before was like dreaming in broad daylight—muddled and benighted, fighting for name and gain—how shameful! After awakening you realize that the hard investigation was itself superfluous, for Buddha-nature is naturally complete and does not belong to cultivation and verification. But without traveling this “wasted” stretch of road, how could that tightened lock of discursive consciousness be pried open at the mysterious pass so as to see the original face? Though one has walked a longer road and it seems a detour, one’s legs are indeed strengthened; unlike those who only read sutras and recorded sayings and talk empty theories—even if they seem to have a kind of “understanding” and can explain Buddhist principles, when they meet events they lack the power and are constantly turned by circumstances. Great Wisdom Zonggao scolded such people as “mercury that flies at the touch of fire.” This was the patriarchs’ deep pain in working for others, adapting expedients to the times—a reluctant, helpless measure.

Even though the patriarchs set up the “huatou” gate, they by no means taught everyone to investigate a single, stereotyped, dead “head of a saying.” They taught according to the person: for differing capacities, differing huatou. The effectiveness of a huatou lies in arousing doubt. If doubt does not arise, it is useless. Thus within the school one says: “Great doubt, great awakening; small doubt, small awakening; no doubt, no awakening.” Moreover, some huatou can only break the first barrier or a heavier barrier and cannot in a single line through to the end break the iron enclosure. Hence one huatou will not teach all people. Therefore, investigation of huatou requires a teacher’s wisdom-eye to discern the student’s capacity and to give a huatou exactly suited to it so that, upon investigation, doubt arises and benefit follows. Otherwise time is squandered to no purpose. Furthermore, during investigation the teacher must keep careful watch always, closely observing the student’s progress and advancing him from the side; most of all he must seize the timely occasions that are related to the huatou and press with pointed hints so that the student can have an opening on the spot to recognize his own Mind and see his own nature. For example, when Huang Shan’gu studied with Huitang, Huitang told him to investigate the huatou “Do you three think I have secrets? I have no secrets from you!”—a saying of Confucius instructing his disciples. Shan’gu investigated long without awakening. One day, while the two were out walking in the hills, a gust of wind brought the fragrance of osmanthus; Shan’gu blurted out, “What a fine breath of sweet-olive perfume!” Huitang, seizing the occasion, pointed: “I have no secrets from you!”—and Shan’gu awakened at those words. From this we can see how important the teacher’s capacity is; but where now can we find such clear-eyed great masters?

Since Chan has grown lifeless from sticking to fixed rules and is daily declining, the plan for today seems to require changing strings and altering the tune—taking another shortcut to break the stalemate and revive Chan. Judging by present conditions, in my foolish view we ought to change again to directly showing the original face, and not keep to a stereotyped dead “head of a saying,” so that students may swiftly awaken. The teacher should, at the point of the inquirer’s question, lay on a coupling, forcing him—where discursive consciousness does not function—to turn the light around and see for himself. Then admonish him to carefully maintain it, wear away false habits, and bring the path to full perfection. There are many good examples of such direct showing in the past. For instance:

Question: “What is Buddha?”

Answer: “Who is the one asking?!”

Reply: “It is I.”

Challenger: “What do you call ‘I’?”

Reply: “Seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing are ‘I’; the body is ‘I’!”

Challenger: “If the body is you, then who is the one that knows the body is you?”

Reply: “Also I.”

Challenger: “If both body and knowing are you, is that not two of you?”

Reply: “If body and knowing are both not me, would that not fall into annihilating emptiness?!”

So the teacher called out, “So-and-so!”

Reply: “Yes!”

Direct pointing: “What is that?!” Is that annihilating emptiness? (This clear, ever-knowing that is neither body nor knowing and does not fall into emptiness—if this is not Buddha, what is it?!) He thereupon had a sudden awakening.

Again, Question: “Can the original face be seen or not?”

Answer: “It cannot be seen.”

Question: “Why can it not be seen?”

Answer: “The original face is yourself. If you yourself must ‘see’ the original face, would there not then be two original faces? How could an eye see itself?”

Reply: “Then is the original face nonexistent?”

Answer: “Though the eye cannot see itself, the eye is not non-existent. Right now, when you are not thinking of good and not thinking of evil, are there still delusive thoughts?”

Reply: “A single thought does not arise.”

Question: “When not a single thought arises, is it like wood or stone without knowing?”

Reply: “Clearly, constantly knowing.”

Direct pointing: “This very clear, constant knowing that is neither being nor non-being—what is it? Is it not your original face!”

Again, Question: “What is my very self?”

Answer: “Is not the one asking right now your very self?!”

Question: “Then may I take this ‘asker’ as my very self?”

Answer: “You may not.”

Question: “Why not?”

Answer: “Though the asker is your very self, if you fixate on that self you make two selves—one, that the asker is your self; two, that you reify the asker as your self. Are these not two selves?” At this he was greatly relieved and awakened.

With such direct pointing suited to the occasion, to have one awaken on the spot—how quick and convenient it is! Compared with those who toil in investigation for decades without news, the difference is like earth and sky. Someone may say: “Those who are pointed to in this way will, when they meet events, perhaps lack strength.” I reply: “If he truly accepts it for himself, then though his entrenched habits be deep, for a time he may still ‘bolt off’; but if he carefully maintains it—like the ancients who, after awakening, tended the ox—holding tight the rope and whip through the twelve hours of the day and not allowing it to stray, then after two or three years his work will surely become unified and his skill will ripen completely.” What is most to be feared are the slick Chan types—seeming to be so and not so, skimming the surface: though smooth of tongue, their mind-nature has not truly awakened. They refuse to set their feet on the ground, to refine the mind through facing situations, to carefully maintain and nurture it—letting themselves drift and stray—and at the end they come to ruin. Yet even if among the boundless sea of people we could net one or two who open the true eye and become the eyes of gods and humans, that would be far better than decades of bitter investigation with no news, no one to inherit the lineage, leaving nothing but “Dharma transmitted by scroll.” Moreover, consider the intention of the ancients in having people investigate huatou: it was only to have people, where mental activity cannot proceed, turn the light back and see for themselves. But today people’s capacities are inferior: struck by this cudgel, they die under the blow and cannot come back to life. How much better to use direct pointing, having them accept it for themselves and then maintain and perfect it—would that not be the wiser plan!

Furthermore, Chan is the treasury of the true Dharma-eye and the wondrous mind of nirvāṇa—attaching nowhere and using no deliberate mind. Investigating a huatou is precisely to use a deliberate mind. Wherever the mind is deliberately used, there is attachment to appearance; where no deliberate mind is used, that is the true use of mind. A monk asked an ancient worthy: “How should one apply the mind to the original face?” The answer: “The original face has nowhere for you to apply the mind. ‘Investigating’ is precisely the place of applying the mind.” Question: “If there is no place to apply the mind, how then is the mind applied?” Answer: “Where there is no place to apply the mind—that is the true application of mind. Wherever there is a place to apply the mind, that is attachment to appearance.” Question: “If there is nowhere to apply the mind, does that not fall into emptiness?” Answer: “Who is it that knows ‘falling into emptiness’?” Reply: “It is I.” Answer: “Since this is you, how could it be falling into emptiness?” Question: “Then may I take this ‘knower of falling into emptiness’ as ‘I’?” Answer: “You may not.” Question: “Why not?” Answer: “Gold dust, though precious, becomes a mote in the eye.” The facilities of the Chan gate were set up by the great patriarchs in accordance with beings’ capacities and the times and conditions; there is no fixed model. In the past one could change from direct pointing to investigating a huatou; why may we not now change from investigating a huatou to question-and-answer that presses one to see one’s nature? Investigating huatou has, over long time, bred abuses: it has devolved into a single stereotyped, dead huatou; people cannot raise great doubt; they labor for decades and there is no news. Added to this, circumstances today differ: everyone is busy; no one can, as in the past, devote decades to “investigating Chan for the sake of investigating Chan.” Even those with such painstaking dedication who are willing to spend long years in bitter investigation are not permitted by the times to do so. What is more, Chan belongs to wisdom-awakening: it is by exceedingly strong wisdom that the lock of discursive consciousness at the mysterious pass is opened—not by the accumulation of meditative absorptions. If we now change to direct pointing—showing students how to see their nature on the spot—and then use the “ox-tending” method to maintain and remove habit energies so as to bring verification to perfection, this better suits the time and does not betray the aim of Chan. For Chan is precisely apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature; and, as to the means used to accomplish this, there have long been many direct-pointing methods—it is no innovation today. What could be wrong with it? To strengthen the reader’s confidence, let me cite another handy and brisk method of direct-pointing Chan, so that my words are not in error.

Chan Master Zhenjue and his attendant were reading the Śūraṅgama Sūtra. When they came to “If I but press my finger, the sea-seal shines forth,” the attendant asked, “What does this mean?” The master said, “Śākyamuni should be given thirty blows!” The attendant said, “What fault is there that deserves thirty blows?” The master said, “Why press the finger?!” The attendant said, “Alas, but when the mind stirs for an instant, the dust-labors at once arise!” The master gave a great shout: “That too is the sea-seal shining forth!” The attendant greatly awakened and said, “Ah! For years I took the arising of the mind to be precisely ‘dust-labors’ and deluded thoughts, not knowing that it is originally the sea-seal shining forth!”

Consider, friends, how exhilarating, how lucid, and how convenient such direct pointing is! To awaken upon hearing—how could one not rejoice without measure! As for the difference between “deluded thoughts” and “shining forth”—that is, the difference between defiled grasping and wondrous functioning—it lies in whether, in daily use and in meeting conditions and dealing with things, one sticks or does not stick. If one sticks, the sea-seal shining forth is turned into the dust-labors of deluded thought. If one does not stick, the dust-labors of deluded thought are precisely the sea-seal shining forth. The Sixth Patriarch said: “If at the place of turning one does not lodge the emotions, the bustle and stir will ever abide in the samādhi of the nāga.” Master Hanshan explained: “What is called ‘transforming consciousness into wisdom’ has no other magic art than this: in the daily flow of thoughts, if you lodge the feelings and tie yourself down, wisdom becomes consciousness; if, as each thought turns, the mind does not attach and does not knot emotional roots, consciousness becomes wisdom. Then at all times one constantly abides in the great samādhi of the nāga.” Again, in a dream Hanshan ascended to Tuṣita, and Maitreya expounded Yogācāra for him: “Discrimination is consciousness; non-discrimination is wisdom. Leaning on consciousness is defiled; leaning on wisdom is pure. Defilement has birth and death; purity has no Buddhas.” How concise and clear such words are—like sweet dew poured into a parched throat! To hear them—what good fortune! Why not at once disperse the mists, clearly see Buddha-nature, and in daily life maintain and bring it to perfection? What further doubt could there be?

Some may say: “‘Investigating Chan, investigating Chan’—one must pass through painful effort and only then awaken; only thus can great functioning appear. Chan of direct pointing and sudden awakening to see nature is mere mouth-Chan, text-Chan, even wild-fox Chan—it is of no use. Furthermore, even if other schools, by cultivating to the point of seeing nature, achieve that, it is not ‘Chan’; only investigating a huatou is the true, orthodox Chan that is ‘outside the teachings.’”

They seem to forget that when Mahākāśyapa, the First Patriarch of Chan, received the Buddha’s mind-seal, was it after painful investigation of a huatou, or was it when the World-Honored One twirled a flower before the assembly and he smiled? Know that Chan is the wondrous mind of nirvāṇa—the true knowing of Buddha-nature. As long as one clearly realizes without doubt, that is it; it does not lie in what method was used. All methods are only means to illuminate it; they are not a distinction of true or false. And these means must adapt to the times and to the quality of people’s faculties; one must not cling to fixed opinions and dead rules. Otherwise it is hard indeed to cultivate talent and flourish the Buddha-seed. On the contrary, since the twenty-eight Patriarchs of the West and the Six Patriarchs of the East did not use investigating huatou to awaken, but directly pointed to the human mind so that one sees one’s nature and becomes a Buddha, there are many who therefore say that “Chan” goes only as far as the Sixth Patriarch, and that afterward there was only “teaching,” not Chan. So whether something is Chan or not absolutely does not lie in some particular traditional method.

As for “great functioning appearing,” what does this refer to? If one thinks “only when miraculous powers are displayed is great functioning present,” that is too attached to appearances and too narrow. The “great skill and great function” spoken of in the Chan school means a style of being in the world that is open-chested and magnanimous, full of spirit—bold and untrammeled—not receiving any and all “receivings,” sticking nowhere when meeting affairs, and seeing ahead of the moment. As the saying goes, “If Mount Tai collapses before him, his expression does not change; if deer suddenly bound up on the left, his eyes do not flicker.” This is not a matter of “displaying miraculous powers or not.” If you say “miraculous powers,” then is putting on clothes and eating rice, or invention and creation, not miraculous power? If not, why did Layman Pang say, “Miraculous powers and wondrous function—drawing water, carrying firewood”? It is clear that your slighting of daily use as “not miraculous power” is nothing but your bad habit of attaching to appearances and seeking the marvelous. In other words, your mind has never been emptied and you have not seen your nature; you are still attached to appearances and seeking. Go on like this, and even if you develop “powers,” they become demonic ways, for attachment has not been cut. Many hold this view; let me give another example to show that everyday use is precisely miraculous power and wondrous function and that one must not seek exotic marvels, lest one “tinker with the spirit-soul” and fall into deviant paths. After Magu and four other great worthies had awakened, they traveled on pilgrimage to refine their realization. In the heat, thirsty, they saw by the road a granny selling tea and called out: “Please bring five cups of tea.” Seeing five monks, the granny asked, “Great Virtues, whither do you go?” They said, “To visit a good friend.” After setting out the tea she said, “The tea here requires miraculous power to drink. Without miraculous power you cannot drink it.” The five masters, though awakened, had not developed powers; they looked at one another and did not dare lift their cups. The granny laughed aloud: “Five stupid birds watching an old woman show miraculous power and drink tea!” She raised the cups and drank them all, one by one. The five, seeing this, suddenly had a realization and said in chorus, “Only today is this our true awakening! We have always been in miraculous power and did not know it was miraculous power, but chased after it outside. If we had not met this granny today, how nearly we would have missed it for a lifetime!” Though this was Avalokiteśvara in the granny’s form instructing them, is it not also pointing out our own confusion?

Great Master Bodhidharma said: “In delusion, form seizes consciousness; in awakening, consciousness seizes form. If you get the root, do not worry about the branches.” With direct pointing to seeing nature, if one truly accepts without doubt, one will naturally lay the whole body down, lodging stillness within wisdom: in daily life one is utterly at ease, with no sticking. Though entrenched habit may be deep and not entirely cleansed at once, and in certain circumstances one may still have arisings, yet as soon as the prior thought arises the subsequent thought is aware—no lingering and circling back. With sustained polishing and unceasing tempering, one will inevitably “shed the skin entirely and leave only the one real.” Then do not worry that miraculous powers will not be great. As for those who are half-believing and half-doubting, hesitant and irresolute—that is another matter.

If it is said, “Even when other schools cultivate to the point of seeing nature that is not Chan,” why then do the scriptures clearly say, “If a person but recites Amitābha, this is called the unsurpassed deep and wondrous Chan”? When practitioners of the Pure Land school recite the Buddha’s Name to the point of “single-mindedness without distraction” and “when the flower opens, they see the Buddha and realize the unborn,” does this not match the track of Chan? Thus the ancients said, “Chan is the Chan of Pure Land; Pure Land is the Pure Land of Chan,” and “Chan is Pure; Pure is Chan; Chan and Pure are not two households.” If Chan and Pure Land relate thus, why should it not be so for other schools? They are all the Buddha’s teaching, all apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature, all ending birth and death. Why split into schools and factions so that you scold me and I revile you—brothers at strife?

Above, some say: “Chan belongs to awakening, not to cultivation; Chan is sudden, not gradual. As Chan, Chan goes only as far as the Sixth Patriarch; afterward there is only ‘teaching’ and not Chan.” The reason: “Teaching” speaks of gradual cultivation—step by step, climbing the stages, with cultivation, attainment, and verification—whereas Chan is “once awakened, there is no more to do”; at all times and places one only follows conditions freely and wanders spontaneously, with no cultivation, no attainment, no verification. After the Sixth Patriarch, Chan worthies in the various directions all spoke of gradual cultivation—discussing and seeking attainment—therefore it is “teaching,” not Chan.

These statements may sound lofty, but in fact they are not so. While “school” and “teaching” do have distinctions of sudden and gradual, awakening and cultivation, what is distinguished is the point of entry, not the speed of realization. One who opens great understanding through study of the teachings and sees one’s nature—this is “under the teachings.” One who directly points to the human mind so that one sees one’s nature and becomes a Buddha—this is “under the school.” When the destination is reached, there is no difference between them; they are the same. Hence the ancients said: “Teaching is Chan with sound; Chan is teaching without sound.” We cannot, because those who practice Chan today have poorer faculties and, after awakening, their habit-energies are not purified and must rely on gradual cultivation to finish off the remnants, conclude that they are “teaching” and not “Chan.” If you insist that “only when one awakening is utterly final, with no need of maintenance, ox-tending, or sweeping away the remaining habits, with immediate ‘coming home to sit securely’ without any straying, is it Chan,” then since the Sixth Patriarch, after awakening, spent more than ten years hidden among a band of hunters, banking his light and nurturing it—would that not also fail to count as Chan?

Thus one cannot dogmatically say, “Only ‘one awakening and then rest’ is Chan; if there is gradual cultivation after awakening, that is teaching.” For over aeons without number we have been inverted and agitated, habituated to attachment; the ingrained tendencies are deep, planted in the ālaya. Though now we have awakened, entrenched habits are thick and their influence hard to dissolve. It is like a stinking night-soil bucket that has held filth for years: even if emptied at once, the stench has soaked into the wood and cannot dissipate immediately; only after long soaking and scrubbing does the remaining stink gradually disappear. Those who truly practice with feet on the ground know the bitter and sweet within and dare not speak wildly, nor at the first hint of awakening boast that they are “without cultivation, without attainment, without verification.” As for those who truly, in one stroke, arrive at “no cultivation, no attainment, no verification,” of course such people are not non-existent—but they are few and not a goal for everyone. Moreover, what is suddenly awakened and suddenly verified today has no small relation to what was gradually cultivated and gradually verified in the past. The ancients said: “Today’s sudden is precisely yesterday’s gradual.” We cannot wipe away with one stroke those of gradual cultivation, awakening, and verification and say they are not Chan. From the perspective of the Chan school above, such post-awakening gradual cultivation is the overwhelming majority. Even the renowned Chan great, Master Zhaozhou, said, “At eighty I still traveled on pilgrimage”—how much more for others!

Once, a licentiate read a few collections of the patriarchs’ sayings and declared that he had had a great breakthrough. He went to see Master Guizong and said that he had reached “no cultivation, no attainment, no verification.” Guizong only smiled and assented. When the fellow took his leave, the Master escorted him to the gate and said, “Sir, whence comes that big hole in the back of your brocade robe?” The licentiate hurriedly asked, “Where? Where?” Guizong scolded, “A fine ‘no cultivation, no attainment, no verification’!” The licentiate blushed with shame and departed. Is this not an unmasking portrait of those who boast of “no cultivation, no attainment, no verification”?

To sum up: when, in “not thinking of good, not thinking of evil”—the prior thought cut off and the later thought not yet arisen—though empty and quiescent without thoughts, one is not like wood or stone; in that sudden turning of the head one recognizes this clear, numinous knowing as the original face. Without disorder and without fixation, one follows conditions and functions with no sticking—this is apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature. Again, nature is true emptiness and wondrous presence—not a stupid void. Because it is true emptiness, it must have characteristics and function; because it has characteristics and function, it is true emptiness. Thus nature is appearance, and appearance is nature. If in daily life we can, through appearances, see nature and not be turned by appearances; if we recognize that all things and any characteristics and function are manifestations of nature, the wondrous functioning of mind, using them only for benefiting beings and not being used by things—this is apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature. The ancients said, “Raise a single blade of grass and it is the sixteen-foot golden body”—this is a note written after awakening; do not take it as something exotic and mysterious. The exotic and mysterious are themselves deluded thoughts—not only blocking the gate of awakening so that one cannot apprehend Mind and see nature, but risking entry into demonic states. Know that all miraculous powers and mysterious wonders have apprehending Mind and seeing nature as their basis. After awakening, diligently remove the five cover-hindrances—wealth, sex, fame, food, and sleep—and “receive no receiving,” and naturally the water will flow when the channel is opened and the six powers will manifest together. It is like the great roc that with a single wing-beat crosses ten thousand miles—but the strength of its legs depends entirely on that single push off the ground. If the feet never once touch the ground, how could it ever take flight?

(2) The Pure Land School

The Pure Land school is deep and vast; it universally covers the three capacities and fully includes the eight teachings. Mind is the land; the land is mind. There is no land outside mind and no mind outside land. Thus the sūtra says: “If one wishes to purify his land, he should first purify his mind. As the mind is purified, the Buddha-land is purified.” The land is mind, and mind is the greatest power in the universe—so great there is nothing outside it, so small there is nothing inside it—nothing lies beyond the measure of mind. Therefore no school transcends Pure Land. Pure Land can be high or low, deep or shallow.

In terms of the fundamental meaning of Pure Land: when a practitioner’s mind is pure, then every land and every place is pure and at ease; the worlds of the ten directions are simultaneously transformed into Pure Land. If the mind is impure, then even in an adorned Buddha-land one is inverted and afflicted. The ancients said: “When the mind is pure, Avīci is Pure Land; when the mind is defiled, Pure Land is Avīci.” As for “the West,” it symbolizes that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west—completion at last; therefore the Great Worthy Samantabhadra uses the Ten Great Vows to seek birth in the Western Pure Land as the completion of Buddhahood.

Those who truly cultivate Pure Land constantly illumine and observe the mind—using either the contemplation of the Buddha’s Name, or visualizing the adornments of the Pure Land and Amitābha’s sacred image, or further contemplating one’s own body as Amitābha—refusing to let the mind cling to conditions. As soon as a thought arises, one crisply awakens and it turns to emptiness; or one raises the Buddha-name to dissolve the delusive thought, not allowing it to continue. With long, single-pointed effort, when the time and conditions ripen, suddenly the contemplator and the contemplated, the one who names and the Name, fall away at once; Amitābha’s true nature shines clearly before one; one personally sees the Dharma-body—right then and there, in this very life, the Pure Land appears. In Chan this is called apprehending Mind and seeing one’s nature; in the Pure Land tradition it is called “the flower opens, one sees the Buddha, and realizes the unborn.” The words differ but the meaning is one; therefore Chan and Pure are not two households.

To be truly born in the Pure Land is by no means a matter of waiting to go after death. One must exert effort in this very life; being able to “be born” now is to have assurance. The “at the end of life” in the Amitābha Sūtra is generally taken to mean “when breath stops at death,” but this is mere literalism. In the sūtra’s deeper intent, “at the end of life” does not mean “at the time of dying”; it means “when the root of the life of birth and death is about to end.” What is the root of the life of birth and death? It is our inverted deluded thoughts. Thus the Amitābha Sūtra immediately continues, “if the mind is not inverted, that Buddha appears before him.” When we practice contemplation or recitation to the point of force, walking we do not know we walk, sitting we do not know we sit—assiduous and unflagging—apart from the Buddha-thought there is no other thought; then the root of life and death—deluded thought—is about to be cut off. At last, suddenly the sense-bases and their objects fall away, the one mind is without disorder, and right then one personally sees the true Buddha—one is born in the Pure Land.

At that time one realizes that Saṃsāra is precisely Sukhāvatī and Sukhāvatī is precisely Saṃsāra; the earlier distinctions of east and west, pure and impure, were like dreaming in daylight. Thus, to be truly born in the Pure Land is “birth yet no birth,” “going yet not going.” If one still distinguishes Saṃsāra versus Sukhāvatī, Pure Land versus defiled land, then one’s mind is not yet pure and delusive thoughts are not yet ended.

Sadly, most present-day Pure Land practitioners fix their eyes on the lowest level; they start from the very bottom and all say in one voice: “We practice Pure Land with the goal of birth in the West, and birth in the West relies on the Buddha’s compassionate power of reception; it is ‘other-power’ practice, not the ‘self-power’ of Chan. We need not apprehend Mind and see nature.” If you ask, “What is ‘single-mindedness without distraction’? Why does the Amitābha Sūtra say, ‘Holding the Name, for one day up to seven days, with single-mindedness without distraction’?” they repeatedly reply, “No need, no need.” The Venerable Lingfeng Ouyi said: “Whether one is born or not depends entirely on whether one has faith and vows.” As long as we have true faith and earnest vows, at the end of life we will of ourselves be received by Amitābha and be born in the West. As long as one can be born in the West—even if it is the lowest grade of the lowest rank or in the City of Doubt at the Border—one’s wish is fulfilled. Since after arrival in the West Buddhahood is only a matter of sooner or later, one will in the end reach the rank of “one more life to go” and is assured of becoming a Buddha. Compared to sinking and rising in the six paths in Saṃsāra, this is better by ten thousand times.

Because this wishful account is so easy to reckon, some good men and good women shift the responsibility for their rebirth to Amitābha and are unwilling to exert themselves—to be valiant and energize. Apart from performing morning and evening liturgy, they do not follow the ancients’ methods to carefully lift and hold the Name so as to sweep away delusive thoughts, reform their habits, purify their minds, and store up provisions for rebirth. They do not realize that Ouyi’s words are a paired sentence that must not be cut apart and quoted out of context. Faith, vows, and practice are the three essentials of Pure Land cultivation; not one can be lacking. This has been made perfectly clear by the great worthies of the Pure Land lineage: without faith and vows one cannot connect with the Buddha’s compassionate vows and be born in the West; without practice one not only has no way to show that faith is true and vows are urgent, one cannot fulfill faith and vows. Therefore, after speaking of faith and vows, the Master immediately adds: “The height or lowness of rank depends entirely on the depth or shallowness of holding the Name.” That is, for the highest rank one must have profound cultivation; even for the lowest rank one must have corresponding practice in order to be born. To be weak in practice is precisely to have faith that is not true and vows that are not urgent. It is not the case that every dog or cat that mouths the Buddha-name while the mind is impure can be reborn. Moreover, the Master’s words addressing “those who recite the Buddha seeking samādhi and not thinking of birth in the West” were aimed at a specific audience.

Master Yongming Shou said: “When a practitioner’s pure karma matures and the mind-ground is pure, in accord with the Buddha he will then see the Buddha appear before him and receive him to the West.” Though the Buddha “appears before one,” in truth there is no coming or going. It is like the moon in the sky; in a thousand rivers and ten thousand lakes it appears everywhere at once, yet the moon is not divided. The mind is like water: if the mind is impure it is like turbid water. Though the moon is in the sky, its reflection does not appear. Thus for those whose minds are inverted and confused—even though the Buddha shines his light to receive them—they are like the congenitally blind who cannot see the sun.

According to the esoteric tradition, Amitābha arouses non-referential great compassion and does not fail to receive any being or save any life. Regardless of what kind of sentient being, at the time of death he treats all equally, radiating light everywhere to receive them to the West. Yet because beings’ obstructions are heavy, they cannot connect with him; still worse, frightened by the blazing brilliance of the Buddha’s light, they flee and plunge into evil destinies—how lamentable!

Therefore, if we truly wish to be born in the West, we must set our feet on the ground and exert ourselves; we absolutely must not try to gain cheaply and fear hardship, shifting the entire responsibility for rebirth onto Amitābha alone. Otherwise why would the Contemplation Sūtra teach us varied methods of entry into contemplation, and why would the Amitābha Sūtra teach us to hold the Name until “single-mindedness without distraction”?

Between visualization (contemplating images) and visualization of characteristics, the latter requires a finer mind and is more difficult than holding the Name; hence in recent times Pure Land practitioners mostly practice holding the Name. Let us now speak of the method and marvels of holding the Name. The Buddha, compassionately discerning that in the latter age beings are deeply defiled and it is hard to open the mysterious pass and lock of consciousness so as to leave suffering and find joy, set forth with vast wisdom, out of pity, a single method of recollecting the Buddha. He places a pure pearl—the all-virtuous vast Name—into the deluded and defiled hearts of beings, secretly shifting their inverted thoughts. From what is nearest-at-hand he cuts the root of birth and death, so that the flower of the mind opens and one sees Amitābha’s Buddha-nature and is born in the Pure Land. All is made by mind alone, and humans cannot be without thoughts. If one does not recollect Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha, one will surely recollect greed, anger, and delusion. When greed, anger, and delusion are recollected, the evils of killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct arise; when evil arises, the wheel of birth and death turns without cease. Guiding the situation with skillful means, the Buddha seized this habit of “not being able to be without thoughts” and cleverly used a single Buddha-thought to replace deluded thoughts, so that, without one’s noticing, deluded thoughts are transformed into Buddha-thoughts and the defiled mind into the pure mind; from this one quite easily is born in the Pure Land and escapes birth and death. The ancients said: “When a pure pearl is dropped into turbid water, the turbid water cannot but become clear; when the Buddha-name is cast into a chaotic mind, the chaotic mind cannot but become Buddha.” Master Lianchi said: “Reciting the Buddha’s Name is to carry out the most intimate and easiest transformation at the place nearest to sentient beings’ birth and death (the deluded mind).” If we do not understand the deep heart of the Buddhas and patriarchs and their great instruction, and earnestly use the practice of recollecting the Buddha to transform ourselves, but rely only on Amitābha’s vow-power to receive us to the Pure Land, how could we reach the goal? The ancients said: “Reliance alone (relying only on Amitābha’s vow-power) makes rebirth hard; dual reliance (one’s own exertion in accord with the Buddha’s power) makes rebirth easy.” Truly imperishable words!

Once we understand the function of recollecting the Buddha and the principle of rebirth, we will know that the method Great Power Arrived Bodhisattva taught—“gather all six faculties; let pure mindfulness be continuous”—is absolutely precise and cannot be altered. Upper, middle, and lower capacities—no matter who—must follow this exact instruction: inwardly body and mind, outwardly the world, put everything down; gather the six faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—entirely onto a single Buddha-name; lift and hold it densely and without break. Naturally, without one’s noticing, deluded mind is transformed into Buddha-mind, one resonates with Amitābha in the West, and the two “hit it off as one.” Thus the ancients said: “Of ten thousand who practice, ten thousand go.”

In reciting the Buddha-name, one must neither be overly hasty—chasing numbers, which injures qi and depletes blood—nor lax and sluggish—allowing deluded thoughts to slip in. One must not seek “single-mindedness without distraction,” lest “delusion pile on delusion,” nor deem “forming a continuous stretch” hard and shrink back. If we truly see through the red dust and know all is illusion, harboring no fixations, then we can, with dead-set heart, seize the one Buddha-name and lift and hold it with force, not letting the mouth recite while the mind is chaotic, with deluded thoughts rolling without rest. If one can recite as one pushes a heavy cart uphill—each phrase linked, each syllable distinct—even a person of the lowest capacity need not fear that the Buddha-recitation cannot become a continuous stretch and that the mind cannot open to awakening. The effectiveness of reciting the Buddha’s name does not lie in comprehending abstruse principles but in singleness: if the mind does not run outside, one can put everything down and, with dead-set heart, recite the Buddha single-mindedly; in time, when the work is pure, what fear that the deluded mind will not melt and Buddha-nature will not be seen! Hence it is said: “A person of the lowest capacity possesses the highest wisdom.” To see through the red dust, put everything down, and recite the Buddha single-mindedly—this is highest wisdom.

The great worthies of the Pure Land lineage exhort people not to worry about whether they have reached “single-mindedness without distraction,” nor to ask whether they have “apprehended Mind and seen nature.” Just proceed calmly and steadily, uprightly reciting; naturally, when the water arrives the channel opens. First, they fear that seeking “single-mindedness without distraction” or “apprehending Mind and seeing nature” would be “delusion piled upon delusion” and one would ruin one’s own work. Second, they fear that demanding too much will frighten living beings so that, seeing difficulty, they retreat and dare not advance. This is not to say that the Buddha-name path does not require “single-mindedness without distraction” or is unrelated to apprehending Mind and seeing nature. The Pure Land school conceals profound principles within plain practice; within genuine practice, it tacitly accords with the wondrous Way. Thus upper, middle, and lower capacities—following the teaching, practicing plain Buddha-recitation—are all able to see nature. Chan, by contrast, takes in only high-capacity, quick-witted types; those of middle and lower capacities have no gate by which to enter. Therefore this Dharma-gate is deep and vast.

Someone may say this is “Chan talk” and does not accord with the rules of the Pure Land school. To strengthen the reader’s confidence, let me excerpt a passage from Master Yinguang’s “Buddha-Recitation Samādhi” to confirm my words:

“As for the method of realizing samādhi: at the very time of Buddha-recitation one must turn the recitation back and contemplate, concentrated on a single object, not allowing the mind to run outside. Thought after thought, attend to the source of mind; mind after mind, accord with the Buddha’s body. Turn back the recitation as recitation; turn back the contemplation as contemplation. Recitation is precisely contemplation; contemplation is precisely recitation. See to it that the whole of recitation is contemplation and the whole of contemplation is recitation; that outside contemplation there is no recitation and outside recitation there is no contemplation. Though contemplation and recitation are like water and milk, this has not yet probed to the root! One must, upon this very one thought ‘Namo Amitābha,’ examine layer on layer, lift and pull urgently; the more one examines, the more urgent it becomes; the more one lifts, the more intimate it becomes. When effort is to the utmost and skill pure, suddenly recitation falls away, and one realizes the realm ‘no-thought yet not not-thought.’ This is what is meant by: ‘The numinous light (lingguang) shines alone, far beyond the sense-bases and their objects; the substance of the true constant is exposed, not confined by letters; the nature of mind is unstained, originally self-complete; merely leave deluded thought and it is the thusness-Buddha.’ This is it. When the work has come to this, one has obtained the method of Buddha-recitation; response and communion interpenetrate—this is the very time to apply effort. Its signs are like clouds clearing in the long sky and clear blue fully revealed. One personally sees the original; originally there was nothing seen. The seeing-without-seeing—this is called true seeing. At this point the sound of streams and the colors of mountains, all are the foremost meaning; the cawing of crows and the clamor of magpies, none are not the supreme true vehicle. Lively and spirited, one responds to all dharma-appearances while not abiding in a single dharma; bright and immaculate, one illuminates all realms while there is nothing at all. Speak of its function: it is like the rising sun in the east—perfect clarity, radiant through and through. Speak of its body: it is like the setting moon in the west—pure and quiescent. Illumination is quiescence and quiescence is illumination; the two are both preserved and both vanish; free from dualistic opposites and perfectly interfused. It is like snow blanketing a thousand mountains, or the sea swallowing up the myriad forms: only a single flavor, without the least difference. As for its benefits: though one has not yet left the Sahā world, one constantly participates in the oceanic assembly; at the end of life, one ascends in a single leap to the highest rank and suddenly realizes Buddhahood. Only those of the household know the affairs of the household; to speak thus to outsiders will surely invite slander—of this there is no doubt!”

Friends, look at this passage—is it not of one track with Chan? When reciting the Buddha one must not only unite contemplation and recitation; one must, upon this very Buddha-thought “Namo Amitābha,” examine layer on layer and lift and pull urgently—what is this if not the Chan work of investigating a huatou? And when the more one examines the more urgent it becomes, and the more one lifts the more intimate; when effort is to the utmost and skill pure, and suddenly everything falls away and one realizes the realm of “no-thought yet not not-thought,” together with the long description of the state after awakening—is this not precisely the Chan realm of breaking open to the original face and apprehending Mind to see nature? Today, for ordinary people, we do not speak of “investigation and lifting”; we only speak of “what the mind recites the ear hears, and contemplation and recitation are one.” Pursue it to the utmost, and when the work is pure, you will naturally break open and enter samādhi—completely no different from Chan’s apprehending Mind and seeing nature. One must not, as people now do, think that doing one’s morning and evening liturgy is enough.

To speak thus is truly hard! Even the venerable Master Yinguang at the end sighed: “Speak this to those outside the gate and you will surely be reviled—without doubt!” How much more for others! When the Buddha spoke the Dharma on Vulture Peak, five thousand walked out; how much less, in the latter age, can one make everyone enter into faith without doubt and reviling?

(3) The Esoteric School

Esotericism is the most expedient, most complete, and most apt Dharma-gate set forth by the Buddhas for saving beings in the latter age; it is also the Dharma-gate that no other school can depart from. From essence to function, from small to great, from shallow to deep, from branch back to root—everything is furnished and nothing is lacking. It is a pity that modern students of Buddhism do not pursue proper cultivation—realizing the essence and attaining the Way—but only learn the superficial “activation of function,” playing at the mysterious and showing off “powers,” so that a miasma of occultism is everywhere and upright gentlemen shun it. Thus Master Hongyi, not understanding the true face of Esotericism and deceived by external forms, once reviled the esoteric school; later, after a deep study of its scriptures and doctrines, he came to know that Esotericism is deep and vast beyond thought, with a complete Dharma-gate lacking nothing. He deeply repented and admonished later students not to slander Esotericism out of misunderstanding its rituals but first to enter deeply into its scriptures and teachings and, once thoroughly comprehending the doctrine, then to explore ritual cultivation.

Precisely because students of Esotericism have not pursued proper cultivation, Chan and Pure Land practitioners avoid the esoteric school, fearing they will catch its miasma. In truth this is unnecessary. The esoteric vehicle is the Buddhas’ mind-seal; not even the Buddhas of the three times can leave it aside in becoming Buddhas, how much less the later students of Chan and Pure Land! If you wish to leave it and avoid it, it is like trying to escape your shadow at midday—only tiring yourself in vain. For example, in the Pure Land school, although apprehending Mind and seeing nature is not emphasized, in order to eliminate karmic obstructions and secure rebirth one must recite the Śūraṅgama dhāraṇī, the Great Compassion dhāraṇī, the Rebirth dhāraṇī, and the Ten Small Dhāraṇīs. Are these not esoteric methods? A student of Chan, upon reaching the point where the seeds churn and he can neither advance nor retreat—stifled and on the brink of despair—without relying on the empowering support of dhāraṇīs and Buddhas and bodhisattvas, cannot pass this difficulty, break open the mass of doubt, and personally realize what is originally so. Master Hanshan said: “Throughout the generations, the great worthies of the Chan school secretly upheld sacred dhāraṇīs and quietly relied on the Buddha’s power; they simply did not proclaim it. I now openly indicate this for all: when, in Chan investigation, the beginningless ignorance churns and one is stifled to the point of despair, one must swiftly empower with the Śūraṅgama-heart dhāraṇī and, relying on the Buddha’s compassionate power, pass the difficulty.” Thus even this Chan that prides itself on self-power, on lofty house-style, on a special transmission outside the teachings and direct pointing to seeing nature—also does not depart from the esoteric vehicle; how much less other Dharma-gates!

According to Japan’s “Outline of Esoteric Teaching,” the emperor once convened great worthies of all the schools at court to hold a convocation and discuss which school was best and which realization was fastest, so that he might choose accordingly for cultivation. The patriarchs of each school presented the strengths of their school and each praised itself as the best, fastest, and most perfect. Then the esoteric master Kōbō Daishi addressed the sovereign: “All schools are good and each has its strengths; yet none can leave Esotericism. Leave Esotericism, and no schools remain, for the esoteric is the Buddhas’ mind-seal: apart from the Buddha’s mind, whence the schools? Esotericism gathers the strengths of all schools; it is the most perfect, the most expedient, the fastest Dharma-gate and the necessary path by which the Buddhas of the three times attain the Way.” The emperor deeply approved, and thus the esoteric school prospered in Japan.

Esotericism takes the Mahāvairocana Sūtra and the Vajra Summit Sūtra as its basis. It establishes ten kinds of minds, encompassing all teachings; it sets up maṇḍalas; by the three mysteries of body, speech, and mind in mutual accord, the ordinary reaches the sacred. Its inconceivable powers are known only by Buddhas; they cannot be fathomed by bodhisattvas on the stages. Profound and secret, it is a teaching not to be displayed to the uninitiated; hence it is called the esoteric school. Its branches and methods are many, beyond the scope of this discussion; I will not expatiate. Here I will speak only, and briefly, of what pertains to apprehending Mind and seeing nature.

When one speaks of Esotericism, people immediately think of “miraculous transformations.” Thus Emperor Wuzong of Tang, fearing that esoteric practitioners would use “powers” to shake his realm and topple his throne, banned the esoteric school. In the Ming, the Hongwu emperor still more dreaded it and strictly prohibited it; thus the esoteric school vanished from China, surviving only in Japan and Tibet as Tōmitsu and Tibetan Esotericism—lamentable! Today’s students of Buddhism further neglect the Way and value only “powers,” mistaking apprehending Mind and seeing nature for the sudden manifestation of great “powers,” and supposing that if “powers” are not displayed one has not apprehended Mind and seen nature. Such wrong views mislead themselves and others. They do not know that though what is realized in apprehending Mind and seeing nature is identical to the Buddhas, the entrenched habits accumulated over aeons are hard to remove at once. At such a time one is only a “Buddha on the causal ground,” like a newborn child—also human, but not yet able to function—requiring cultivation that accords with awakening, diligent removal of habits, and nurturing of the sacred embryo, after which “powers” will gradually be perfumed forth. The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: “In principle, it belongs to sudden awakening; with awakening, the afflictions are suddenly eliminated; but in phenomena it is gradual removal, and the causes are exhausted step by step.” The Mahāvairocana Sūtra says: “When a bodhisattva abides herein and diligently removes the five cover-hindrances, before long all five ‘powers’ (superknowledges) manifest together.” Sadly, many Dharma-children, ignorant of this principle, pursue nothing but “powers,” catering to popular tastes to show their own ability. As a result, students of Esotericism imitate one another and practice only branch-and-leaf methods of magical display, neglecting the fundamental Dharma of realizing the essence and ending birth and death—cause for deep regret!

Within esoteric methods, each sub-school has its own foremost and unsurpassable practice; their powers are all inconceivable, and if one practices according to the Dharma one obtains real benefit and realizes the sacred fruit. Among them, the most complete, perfect, and unsurpassed is the Great Perfection (Dzogchen) of the Red School. It is the highest gate among the nine vehicles, with nothing above it. Its preliminary—Mahamudrā of the Ganges—equals Chan’s direct demonstration of mind and is even more complete than Chan. The first half of Dzogchen, “cutting through” (khregs chod), with the seal of the three emptinesses, is Chan’s seeing nature; the second half, “leaping over” (thod rgal), with the body dissolving into rainbow light, is Chan’s “beyond the beyond.” But Chan relies solely on self-power, lacking expedients to receive and guide; results come slowly. Esotericism, besides self-power, further gains the Buddhas’ empowering support and has a variety of rare expedients to receive and guide. This receiving and guiding is as scientific as modern lasers; results are fast and power is quickly gained.

Though some great esoteric methods have already been incorporated into Chan and Pure Land, if one practicing Chan or Pure Land would also cultivate esoteric methods to supplement their deficiencies, progress would be faster and results greater. Master Hanshan said, “For those who find Buddha-recitation not effective, they may hold mantras (i.e., dhāraṇīs). Relying on the Buddha’s mind-seal, one can reap half the effort for twice the result.” Especially for Chan practitioners investigating a stereotyped, rigid huatou without a bright-eyed teacher to temper and press, with no news to show for their efforts—better to switch to esoteric practice, rely on the Buddha’s compassionate power, and more easily open to realization. If one finds the rituals of esoteric practice too involved, the visualizations too complex, and the preliminaries too slow, then one should practice the Heart-Center Esoteric Method instead. Although Dzogchen is perfect and lacking nothing, before its practice one must cultivate the preliminaries; when practicing “cutting through,” one must execute various “with-form” visualizations—complex and cumbersome—unlike the Heart-Center, which is simple and easy. The Heart-Center is formless Esoteric: direct and exhilarating; it does not require passing from form to formlessness; it requires no preliminary practice and no visualization; it directly realizes the formless source of mind. It is truly the simplest and easiest, the fastest and most excellent method within Esotericism. But if one’s nature inclines to visualization—preferring to begin from “with-form” deities, seed-syllables, the three channels and five wheels—then Dzogchen is suitable.

The Heart-Center Method belongs to the Red School of Tibetan Esotericism, though Tōmitsu also preserves a lineage. Formerly, the teacher Nona transmitted it in Shanghai to Yuan Xilian. Regrettably, because this method is a formless, high esoteric practice—one that in Tibet may be given only after twenty or thirty years of “with-form” Esoteric training—it was not widely transmitted; the great Dharma nearly sank from sight. That it has now spread widely is entirely due to Dayu Acharya, who, practicing the Pratyutpanna Samādhi on Mount Lu, endured great hardships and entered deep meditation, where Samantabhadra appeared, bestowed abhiṣeka, and transmitted the method. He further told him that, within the Esoteric section of the Taishō Tripiṭaka, there is “The Heart Sūtra Also Connects to the Great Suiqiu Dhāraṇī,” which is the textual basis of this method and may be consulted in detail. Having received the Dharma and succeeded in practice, the old master, feeling the decline of the Dharma and the difficulty of repaying the Buddhas’ grace, labored without complaint, descended the mountain, and widely taught it. Afterward, Xiang Lu Gong continued the transmission; disciples who received it now cover the nation, and the Dharma has begun to flourish. Because this method is simple and swift, people have called it “Chan-Esoteric.” The wording may be inexact, but the meaning is close. Perhaps the time-and-conditions for this Dharma have arrived and it is due to emerge in the world for the benefit of vast beings!

In the Heart-Center Esoteric Method, six seals are united with one mantra and empowered by the three mysteries. Whether or not a maṇḍala is set up, it can be practiced. In practice one forms the mudrās with the hands and recites the mantra with the mouth without visualization; rather, one turns the hearing back so that the mind holds the soundless sound of the dhāraṇī—much like the Buddha-recitation contemplation. In mantra-recitation one uses “vajra-recitation”: the lips move but no sound comes out; it continues unbroken. Because one obtains the Buddhas’ empowering support, entry into samādhi is extremely rapid. Practiced in this way, it neither injures qi nor blood; indeed it is a wondrous method for nourishing the body. To sound aloud injures qi; to recite silently injures blood; but now, with vajra-recitation—what the mind recites the ear hears, the intention does not run outside, a single thread runs unbroken—the mind is limpid and the will congealed, qi and blood harmonize, one enters samādhi at ease, the spirit is bright and vigorous, the body secure and healthy. On this basis, apprehending Mind and seeing nature is established!

One may practice this method one or two periods daily; there is also a method of “seven-day retreat” or “nine periods.” Each period is two hours; the hand-formed mudrās must not be released, the mantra must not stop. If one releases the mudrās and leaves the seat midway, it does not count; one must begin anew. If one’s roots are fitting and one can practice continuously without interruption and complete one thousand periods, one will assuredly apprehend Mind and see nature. After seeing nature, from essence arise function; temper habit-energies, and it accords with the way of Chan. If, further, one diligently cultivates the Dzogchen “leaping over” method, dissolving into rainbow light and realizing Buddhahood will not be difficult!

The above methods of Heart-Center and Great Perfection are esoteric; without abhiṣeka they must not be publicly taught—therefore details are omitted. Those with aspirations should seek abhiṣeka from a master and practice accordingly; they will naturally obtain what is right.

All beings are originally Buddhas; there is no need to practice a method to attain Buddhahood. But because defilements have piled up so deeply, even when we meet a clear-eyed person who directly shows the nature of mind, we are unwilling to trust ourselves and accept it; therefore we cannot avoid borrowing methods of cultivation—yellow leaves to stop a child’s crying. Among these methods, because the skillful means differ, the speed of success differs. Investigating Chan often takes decades to “get a bit of news,” and some remain confused for life without awakening. Those who cultivate other schools often do not dare to speak of apprehending Mind and seeing nature; this is especially true in the Pure Land school. The Heart-Center Method described above is already quite expedient and swift, yet even so it requires a thousand periods—about three years—to personally see the original face (this for the slowest; those of sharp roots do not need to complete all thousand). Strictly speaking, all this is “wearing chains without guilt and walking a detour without cause.” When the bottom of the bucket is knocked out and one sees what is originally so, one realizes it was present all along and one’s efforts were superfluous.

One who, in a single thought, turns the light around and sees nature; one who sees nature in three years by completing a thousand periods of Heart-Center practice; and one who sees nature after decades of Chan investigation—these speeds cannot be measured by distance. Yet those who walked more of the detour are not without compensation. Having walked the detour, the strength of the legs is trained. Those who have not taken the detour have weak legs and, once “on the road”—i.e., when facing conditions—find their power insufficient. Why? Because though what is realized by all three is the same in principle, their functional power differs greatly. In one case, because the awakening came easily and without the tempering of meditative discipline, the mind is often swayed by conditions and cannot be sovereign; thus the power is insufficient. In the other case, after long sitting with deep meditative habit and long “investigation, tempering, lifting, and observing,” once one awakens, one can be free and at ease, not ruled by the dust-world. As the ancients said: “Effort is not expended in vain; the Dharma is not bestowed to no purpose.” Xuedou said: “For decades I have toiled bitterly, plunging for you into the blue dragon’s cave—ah, how cramped and hard to tell! Clear-eyed monks, do not take this lightly!”—he was versifying precisely this.

Practicing the Heart-Center Method for about three years and, relying on the Buddhas’ empowering support, opening to awakening—though one has spent more time than the “one thought turning the light,” one has saved ten times the toil of thirty years of Chan investigation and obtained the same power and effect. We, the offspring of the latter age—what can we say but deeply rejoice at the blessing of meeting such a great Dharma and profoundly thank the Buddhas and bodhisattvas for their compassionate grace!

Furthermore, besides apprehending Mind and seeing nature and accomplishing in this very life, the Heart-Center Method also allows one to vow for birth in the Western Pure Land. If one’s Buddha-recitation is not effective and holy visions do not appear, one may borrow this method to realize samādhi and thereby have full assurance of rebirth in Sukhāvatī. Though called an esoteric method, in reality it is a round and marvelous great Dharma that fuses Chan and Pure Land! Those with aspiration should seek it out and cultivate it!

Lastly, I exhort fellow practitioners of Esotericism: do not use esoteric methods to commit criminal deeds and thereby incur grievous karmic retribution. Esoteric methods do have all kinds of secret miraculous functions, but one must know that any “powers” achieved by practicing marvelous methods are not true powers; they cannot be compared with the powers realized when the light of non-outflowing wisdom manifests. These practice-based “powers” are but derivative powers and resemble the arts of non-Buddhist paths; they can delight and impress the ignorant and petty, but do not enter the hall of great elegance. Even if one masquerades as a holy one for a time to gain a morsel of fame and profit, when the “eyes fall to the ground,” not only will the “powers” vanish, but one will follow one’s karma into terrible retribution.

(3) True Cultivation After Awakening

Before apprehending Mind and seeing nature, no matter what Dharma-gate you practice or how you apply effort, you cannot escape the category of “blind cultivation and groping in the dark,” for without awakening to the true mind you cannot be free of doubt about the method you practice. Though you also apply effort diligently, an undercurrent of uncertainty still obstructs the breast; the aspect of unrest cannot be avoided. And this very unrest is the root of birth and death, so though one’s antidotal practices are deep, they are not true cultivation. Chan master Puzhao’s “Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “If one cultivates before awakening, although one exerts oneself and never forgets to practice moment by moment, still at every step doubt arises and one cannot be without obstructions. It is as if something were blocking the breast, the sign of unrest constantly appearing before one. Over days and months, as the antidotal effort matures, the body-and-mind guest-dust will seem to have a light ease to it. But although there is ease, the root of doubt is not cut off—like grass pressed by a stone. One still lacks freedom in the realm of birth and death.” Thus it is said: “Cultivation before awakening is not true cultivation.”

Yet no one can avoid this stage of blind cultivation and groping. Once the bottom of the bucket is knocked out and one recognizes what is originally so, one is “on the road home”: following conditions to wear out habits, letting equipoise and wisdom be cultivated together in an uncontrived way, with constant Chan in movement and stillness—that is the “no-cultivation” that is true cultivation. “Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “Even if one’s capacity is dull and, after seeing nature, the afflictions remain thick and the habit-energies deep—so that in facing conditions thoughts arise at every turn, encountering circumstances the mind constantly makes something—so that one is even befogged and confounded by conditions and forgets the original: though one then borrows all sorts of antidotal expedients to remove coarse habits and wash away the stains, this is nonetheless cultivation with real efficacy. Because thought after thought there is no doubt and nothing falls into an obstruction, then over days and months, when strength is to the utmost and practice pure, one naturally accords with the wondrous, natural nature. Uncontrived quiescence-and-knowing, compared with the superior capacity, differs no more.” Therefore those who study the Buddha Way must first set their aim on apprehending Mind and seeing nature, and only after clarity of mind should they tackle the cutting off of habit-energies—then it is true cultivation. This is why I cry out with a loud voice: do not make people investigate stereotyped, rigid huatou; let the teacher directly indicate mind-and-nature so that the student awakens on the spot, and then set to work at true cultivation, preventing the waste of time.

Someone may say: once one apprehends Mind and sees nature one is a sage, who not only need not further cultivate but should also display all manner of miraculous transformations and powers—great function and great application—surpassing the ordinary; how then do you say that only after awakening does true cultivation begin?

I answer: students today commonly fall into two errors. First, they suppose that after awakening one is a sage and must display all sorts of miraculous transformations; if such transformations are not displayed, they judge it to be “non-awakening,” mere “lip-Chan,” mere talk of truth, and they grow discouraged—this fault of falling back and deeming oneself excluded is seen again and again. Second, they suppose that in the patriarchal school there is originally “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization,” that “once awakened, one can rest,” and that further cultivation is needless. Thus, though they have an awakening “in principle,” their habit-energies remain as before; with days and months they wander on as they did, spinning in birth and death and circling through the six destinies. The foregoing has already been discussed; it need not be repeated. But because the issue determines success or failure in the Way and is precisely the root of the contemporary misapprehension, I will elaborate.

“Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “There are many gates of entry into the Way, but in essential terms they do not go beyond the two gates of sudden awakening and gradual cultivation.” It also says: “These two—sudden and gradual—are the track of the thousand sages: from the top down, none fail to awaken first and cultivate after; through cultivation one then realizes. What are called miraculous transformations rely on awakening and are gradually perfumed forth; they are not what appears at the very moment of awakening.”

Guifeng (Zongmi) says: “Just as one recognizes a pond of ice as wholly water and relies upon the sun’s warmth to melt it, so one recognizes the ordinary person as precisely Buddha and relies upon Dharma-power to perfume and cultivate. When the ice melts, water flows and moistens, and only then does the power to cleanse and wash appear; when delusion ends, the mind is open and flowing, and only then does the responsive light manifest. In the sphere of phenomena, miraculous transformations are not accomplished in a single day; they are gradually perfumed forth.”

Yangshan instructed the assembly: “I will explain to you plainly. Do not mass things together and pile them up. Just as you are, cultivate in the ocean of your own nature as it is; do not crave the three knowledges and six ‘powers.’ Why? These are but the marginal business of a sage. For now, you need only recognize mind and reach nature—grasp the root and do not worry about the branches; thereafter, in later time, everything will be there of itself. If you have not grasped the root and only learn by emotion from others, in the end you will not obtain it; and if you ‘obtain’ something, it will be unreal—and at length you will have a share in becoming a demon.”

From these citations we see: “sudden awakening” means that when a confused ordinary person mistakenly clings to the four great elements as his body and to discursive thinking as his mind—seeking Buddha outside, running east and west—and then meets a good friend who points out an entry, he turns the light around in a single thought and sees his own nature, recognizes his own mind. This mind-nature originally has no afflictions and no birth and death, is originally self-complete and self-sufficient, and is no different from the Buddhas. From ordinary person to Buddhahood there are in fact no ranks or steps—hence “sudden awakening.”

Though it is called sudden awakening, that pertains to principle; in the arena of phenomena, entrenched habit-energies have been amassed through lives and aeons—being born and dying, clinging firmly—and cannot be cut off at once. Therefore one must cultivate in accord with awakening, gradually removing habit-energies until delusion is exhausted and only then do “powers” appear; they absolutely do not appear at the very moment of sudden awakening in principle. Those who practice the Way must understand the process and distinguish the before-and-after; one must not, because “powers” have not appeared, fall into self-doubt and further doubt others, suppose that no one can awaken, and seek side paths—wandering for aeons without attaining the Way.

Moreover, whether “powers” appear or not cannot prove awakening or not. First, there are many kinds of “powers”: some are derived from esoteric cultivation, some from spirit-attachment and ghost-mediumship, some from past perfuming ripening in this life—these are not one and the same, and none can prove that their possessors have awakened. For such “powers” either depend on something and are not true “powers,” or are only look-alike “powers”; once the body decays and they lose their dependence, they vanish to nothing. Second, the ancients spoke of “awakening first, ‘powers’ later” and also “’powers’ first, awakening later,” so one cannot say that once “powers” appear there is ipso facto awakening. For example, Ming-dynasty master Poshān, while training at Tiāntóng before awakening, could already leave his body to steal villagers’ ducks as playful “samādhi at play.” When this became known, master Miyún Wù scolded him: “Though you are not without playful ‘powers,’ you have not even dreamed of Buddhadharma!” Poshān then begged instruction, and only after strenuous investigation did he awaken. In recent times beings’ roots are feebler and habit-obstructions heavier; to have “powers first, then awakening” is one in many millions. We should therefore, after awakening, cultivate in accord with it, gradually removing habit-energies and gradually manifesting “powers.” Thus it has been with saints and patriarchs throughout the generations: the two gates of sudden awakening and gradual cultivation are the rule for Buddhists and should be respected by practitioners of every school.

Someone may object: “Principle is phenomena and phenomena are principle; the two are non-dual. If in principle it is sudden awakening, then in phenomena it should correspond. If, in the arena of phenomena, one cannot penetrate without obstructions, how can you say that one has realized true principle?”

I answer: principle and phenomena are neither one nor different. Phenomena are accomplished by principle; principle is revealed through phenomena. Principle is not apart from phenomena, and phenomena are not apart from principle. Because they are not apart, they are not different; and because the true principle is formless while wondrous function follows conditions to respond to the myriad classes—so that provisional appearances are established, not without shape—therefore, in terms of “with form” and “without form,” they are not one. Now, though one has awakened and clearly seen that the empty, quiescent numinous awareness is precisely the true Buddha, entrenched habit-energies of lives and aeons cannot be removed in a single stroke. Meeting events, the mind may still move; encountering realms, one may still not be without thoughts. Yet when a previous thought has moved, with the following thought one immediately awakens to it and sweeps it all away at once. It is only that, compared with those who do not move at all, there remains a trace of arising and ceasing—a lesser strength. But if one preserves it closely and is ever aware and reflective, then over days and months, when practice is deep, one can “strike together into one piece.” The patriarchs’ post-awakening “ox-herding” is precisely the model for work after awakening.

The ancients said: “Though sudden awakening is the same as the Buddhas, the habit-energies of many lives are deep; when the wind stops the waves still surge, and though principle appears, thoughts still invade.” Therefore after awakening one must constantly observe and examine; if a deluded thought arises, never follow it—reduce and reduce again, until there is nothing to be done; then it is ultimate. As for the world’s “good friends” who can manifest miraculous transformations in the arena of affairs—none accomplished this in a single day; it was gradually perfumed forth. Moreover, “powers” are but the marginal business of the sage and are not valued by those of attainment; though they may appear, they do not wish to use them. If one has not grasped the root—apprehended Mind and seen nature—but craves only the branch—the manifestation of “powers”—not only will one fail to attain the Way, one will have a share in becoming a demon. This must be handled with great care!

Today’s Buddhists commonly measure others by “powers,” foolishly supposing that at the moment of awakening there should appear immeasurable functions and miraculous transformations, and that if there are no such transformations—even if the eye of the Way is bright—there is no awakening. Such people truly do not know root and branch, nor before and after; they are deluded and confused. Not only do they fall back themselves and refuse to believe in others, they cut off the seed of Buddha—nothing is more grievous.

As for the second contemporary illness—supposing that “once awakened, one can rest,” that there is “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization”—this, compared with the previous error of demanding immediate “powers,” may seem closer to awakening, but because its view is not thorough it wanders off the road; its fault is no different from that of the unawakened, and perhaps does even greater harm. The former only falls back, does not trust himself and does not trust others; when time and conditions arrive, he may yet break through confusion and step onto the true track. But the latter supposes himself awakened, with a root of wrong view that avoids further cultivation; he continues to wander on, sinking deeper into the cycle, and cannot free himself.

Above I said that “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization” pertains to principle, and is the final last-word of one who has “arrived at home”; it is absolutely not a state reached at the very moment of a single awakening. Especially for people of our latter-day world, with crude roots and heavy obstructions, one cannot, after awakening but before further cultivation, instantly attain the state of “no work to do.” Whoever says there is no need of cultivation and that “once awakened, one can rest” is either wild or foolish—not to be believed.

All beings originally possess the tathāgata’s wisdom and virtue; through delusion they mistake the false for the true, create karma, receive recompense, flow through the six destinies, and become “sentient beings.” Though dwelling among sentient beings, the fundamental nature is not lost; with a single sobering awakening one is no different from the Buddhas—nothing needs to be cultivated anew, thus “no cultivation.” “All appearances are illusory”—originally empty and quiescent, with not a single dharma to be had—thus “no attainment.” Even the “ultimate Buddha” is not established—thus “no realization.” But so long as habit-energies are not removed, and one clings and chases and spins through birth and death, one is certainly not yet a Buddha. Therefore one must perfuse practice thought after thought, be aware and reflective mind after mind; after great awakening, one “cuts off evil as if without cutting and cultivates good as if without cultivating,” enters the hall and reaches the inner chamber, sits securely at home—becoming the “idle man of no learning and no doing.” Only then is it the time of “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization.” Before reaching this level, if one lightly traffics in such talk, one deceives sages and cheats saints and brings calamity on oneself.

Someone may ask: since there have always been people of “sudden awakening, sudden cultivation, sudden realization,” are these not those who “rest upon awakening”? Do these not also require gradual cultivation after awakening? If such people have existed in the past, there will surely not be none today.

I answer: those of “sudden awakening, sudden cultivation, sudden realization” must be of the very highest capacity; otherwise they cannot enter. Strictly speaking, the reason their roots are so deep and their capacity so high is entirely due to cultivation “in accord with awakening,” gradually perfumed and accumulated in past lives. In this life conditions matured, so hearing they could awaken and finish at once. On the surface this seems “sudden awakening, sudden cultivation, sudden realization,” but in reality it is still “awakening first, cultivation after.” The ancients said: “Today’s ‘sudden’ is precisely yesterday’s ‘gradual.’” As for today’s world, students’ roots are crude and their obstructions heavy; unless one is a great bodhisattva come again, it is truly hard to accomplish the trilogy of sudden awakening, sudden cultivation, and sudden realization. Even in the rare case where someone of the very highest roots “understands a thousand on hearing one” and “finishes at once,” he still cannot be without cultivation, attainment, and realization—for ignorance and habit-energies are not exhausted in a single life. How then could one speak of “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization”? The very talk falls into “has cultivation, has attainment, has realization.”

“Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “From beginningless time ordinary beings have flowed through the six destinies, clinging firmly to the mark of ‘I,’ with deluded thinking upside down. The seed-habits of ignorance have long become second nature. Though in this life one suddenly awakens to self-nature, originally empty and quiescent, no different from the Buddha, the old habits are not easily cut off at once. Thus, encountering favorable and adverse conditions, anger and joy, rights and wrongs blaze up and die down as before. Guest-dust afflictions are no different than before. Unless one thoroughly perfuses with prajñā, how could one counteract them with bright purity and attain the place of great rest?”

Chan master Dàhuì Zōnggǎo says: “Time and again those of quick roots, having dispatched this matter without much effort, then give birth to a spirit of ‘easy-going’; they do not further cultivate. Over days and months they wander on as before and do not escape birth and death. How could one, by relying on the awakening of a single lifetime, forgo subsequent cultivation?”

Therefore after awakening one must constantly observe and examine and not be careless. When deluded thought suddenly arises, either in a single rousing it is seen through, or one raises the Buddha-name—until there is nothing to be done; only then is it ultimate. The meaning of “sudden awakening and gradual cultivation” is like the two wheels of a cart—one cannot be absent.

Since sudden awakening and gradual cultivation are the rule of Buddhist practice and the ferry across to realization, how then should one cultivate—and how does this differ from cultivation before awakening? I answer as follows.

(1) Post-awakening cultivation cannot be treated in one piece; the learner’s remaining habits may be shallow or deep, the afflictions light or heavy. For one of shallow habit-obstructions, there is no need of antidotes; only follow conditions while observing and examining—when a thought arises, at once be aware, and awareness at once turns it to emptiness. Practicing this thought after thought, one naturally attains the hundred-thousand samādhis. As “Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “Only shine upon the fact that delusion has no root; do not abide thought after thought. Then the three realms of the blossom-of-emptiness are like wind sweeping smoke; the six dusts of illusion are like ice melting in hot soup. Guest-dust afflictions naturally transform into sweet ghee.” If one can thus practice moment after moment without forgetting to look after it—letting equipoise and wisdom hold each other—one’s loves and hates naturally thin and wisdom naturally brightens. When the subtle stream is forever cut off and the great wisdom of perfect awakening remains alone, one then manifests hundreds of thousands of billions of bodies and, in the lands of the ten directions, responds to capacities without obstruction.

“Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “Though one cultivates the myriad practices, one takes ‘no-thought’ as the ancestor. The world’s good friends, in their post-awakening ox-herding, though they have further cultivation, first had sudden awakening: the deluded thoughts are originally empty and the mind-nature originally pure. Though they cut off evil habits, there are in truth no evil habits to cut off; though they diligently cultivate blessings and wisdom, there are in truth no blessings and wisdom to cultivate. Cultivating without cultivation and cutting off without cutting off—this is true cultivation and true cutting off.”

It also says: “When seeing colors and hearing sounds, only thus (i.e., like a bright mirror reflecting things; when the wind passes through the trees, do not make anything else). When putting on clothes and eating, only thus; when defecating and urinating, only thus; when dealing with people and affairs, only thus. In walking, standing, sitting, and lying; in speech and silence; in joy or anger—at all times, always thus: like an empty boat riding the waves—going high or low with them—yet thought after thought does not abide; like flowing water turning around a mountain—meeting bends and straights as they come—yet mind after mind has no knowing. Today ‘free and easy by itself,’ tomorrow ‘by itself free and easy’; following the myriad conditions without obstruction. Honest and without guile, seeing and hearing as usual—then there is not a single mote set up as an opponent: what need is there of the labor of ‘banishing’? Not a single thought gives rise to emotion—what need is there of ‘forgetting’ the conditions?”

Such uncontrived quiescence-and-knowing is originally the “no-doing” cultivation and is equal to “no cultivation.” There is no need to set up another furnace and forge, to grasp some method and cultivate it, nor to harbor meditative images and chase stillness as practice. How different this is from pre-awakening cultivation—unclear as to “what it’s all about,” clinging to dharma-marks, gripping rituals, craving merits, chasing tasks, wearing chains and shackles!

(2) For those whose habit-energies are deep, whose ignorance has great strength, who in favorable and adverse conditions cannot avoid being buffeted and reversed, whose hearts are not calm—then some labor of “banishing external relations” and “antidotal practice” is not without use. Of antidotes: when flightiness predominates, use corresponding concentration to gather the scatter; when dullness predominates, use the gate of wisdom to contemplate emptiness (as to which particular method is suitable, see the next chapter, “Ten Methods of Practice”). One must see to it that equipoise and wisdom hold each other, that movement and stillness vanish into each other, and that one enters “no-doing”; only then is it ultimate. “Instructions for Cultivating the Mind” says: “First, by the gate of concentration, gather the flightiness so that the mind does not follow conditions and accords with the original quiescence. Next, by the gate of wisdom, alert the dullness—discriminating dharmas by contemplating emptiness—so that it accords with the original knowing. Use concentration to treat the chaotic imaginings; use wisdom to treat the state of non-cognition. When dullness and flightiness are mutually gone and the antidotal work is complete, then facing conditions, thought after thought returns to the source; encountering relations, mind after mind accords with the Way. Uncontrived double cultivation—only then is there ‘nothing to do.’”

Someone may object: “If you apply such antidotes, how is this different from the gradual cultivation of the dull before awakening—why speak of sudden awakening?”

I answer: because such people have crude capacity and heavy habits, deep obstructions and thick stains. Though they too have awakened to the mind-nature’s original purity and to the emptiness of afflictions, in facing conditions they still make emotions; encountering relations they still become stuck—dullness and flightiness overturn them so that they forget the ever-present quiescent knowing. Without borrowing antidotal practices to balance dullness and flightiness, not only can they not enter ‘no-doing,’ they fall into “post-awakening confusion.” This is not to be taken lightly.

I now cite a few cases of confusion after awakening, to warn those who awaken and then neglect real cultivation:

(1) Betraying one’s teacher. The monk Xian long trained under Xuědòu and, after attaining the Dharma, Xuědòu planned to enthrone him as abbot at Jīné. Xian refused. Later, when he went out into the world and opened a hall, because Master Déshān Yuǎn’s reputation and prestige surpassed Xuědòu’s, Xian changed his lineage to Yuǎn’s. He sent messengers to notify the various monasteries. An old woman at the mountain gate asked: “For whom does Head Seat Xian burn incense now that he has gone out into the world?” The messenger replied, “For Master Déshān Yuǎn.” The old woman scolded: “Xuědòu has shaken out his urine-intestines to speak Chan for you so that you could have your present day, and now you repay grace by betrayal!”

In Hézhōu there lived the venerable Kāishèngjué. He first trained with Changlú Fū “Iron-Feet,” but gained no entry. Later, at the seat of Wǔzǔ Yǎn on Mount Dōng, he obtained the Dharma and went out to preside at Kāishèng. Seeing the seat of Changlú now flourishing, he changed his lineage to Fū’s and forgot the place where he had obtained it. At the incense-offering, he suddenly felt as if his chest were pounded; at that very spot a sore formed and opened. He plugged it with cakes of frankincense; it would not heal, and he finally died.

(2) Selling out a friend. The storekeeper Qìng, a Sichuanese, was renowned in the forests of monks. One day, traveling with Master Xiù to the capital to visit Yuántōng Fǎyún, Xiù was granted lodging; Qìng was not. Qìng fell ill at Zhìhǎi; Xiù wished to visit him but had no gate-pass, so he sneaked out to see Qìng. Qìng reported Xiù in writing to Yuántōng for breaking the rules of the mountain. Yuántōng cursed in the night talk: “He risked breaking the rule to come out and ask after your sickness out of righteousness; and you report him in a letter? Is this what a straight and proper man does?” Hearing this, Qìng immediately expired. The forests all said Qìng died under one rebuke from Yuántōng.

(3) Betraying one’s teacher. The attendant Píng of Dayáng was a foremost disciple of Dòngzōng Míng’ān. When Master Guǎngzhào of Lányá came to visit, Míng’ān said, “Those who will revive the Dòng school are none other than Yuǎn or Jué.” Zhào replied, “There is Píng, the attendant.” Míng’ān said, “Píng’s old habits are deep,” and pointed to his chest: “This place is not good.” Pinching the web of his thumb, he added: “In the future Píng will die of this.” After Míng’ān entered stillness, Píng dwelt at Dayáng. He schemed to take the gold and silver donated to raise Míng’ān’s stūpa—even to the point of destroying the master’s stūpa—and, though the elders of the mountain earnestly remonstrated, he would not listen. He opened the stūpa; the master’s countenance was as in life, and even when the firewood burned out he remained thus. All were astonished. Píng smashed his master’s skull and piled on oil and kindling, and presently all became ash. The matter was reported to the officials, and Píng was found guilty of plotting to seize goods from the stūpa and, as an unfilial one, was defrocked and returned to lay life. Because his character was base, the various places spurned him; he drifted with no place to rely on. Later, at a fork of three roads, he was eaten by a tiger—just as Míng’ān had foretold. Alas!

Cases of this sort are beyond counting. In every one, after awakening, because they did not borrow antidotal cultivation and let deep habits run on, their native goodness was obscured; coveting profit, they moved their hearts; they forgot grace and righteousness—and this was the result. A man may be clever in fraud and villainy, but how can he expect the guardian spirits to be indulgent? It is right that such men find no good end!

Know that, though one borrows antidotal practices to temper habits for a time, because one first had sudden awakening to the original purity of mind-nature and to the emptiness of afflictions, one does not cling to methods and fall into the inferior view of “has cultivation, has attainment, has realization.” Therefore one can make thought after thought return to the source and mind after mind accord with the Way, without losing the intention of sudden awakening. Conversely, in cultivation before awakening, because one has not seen nature, though one perfuses moment by moment one falls into doubt at every turn, cannot be free and unobstructed, and clings to dharma-marks and grasps merits—never ending birth and death. Thus, using the same antidotal methods, in the case of the awakened they are like lodging overnight by the road—temporary expedients without dharma-fixation; over days and months, they naturally accord with the wondrous Way and accomplish unsurpassed bodhi. Compared with the superior capacity of shallow habits—who “cultivate while not cultivating and do not cultivate while cultivating”—there is in truth no difference. This too must be clearly known.

Likewise, Pure Land Buddha-reciters, before awakening, not knowing how to make each thought return to the source, always run outside, clinging to appearances in cultivation. Worse yet, they cling to merit and take quantity as victory, racing to recite sūtras and dhāraṇīs—and thereby fall ill. After awakening they know that mind is precisely Buddha and Buddha is precisely mind; reciting Buddha is reciting mind, and reciting mind is reciting Buddha. Thought after thought of Buddha-recitation is thought after thought of calling one’s original mind—“mind and Buddha meet and fuse into one.” Thus the ancients said: one can fully “lift” a single Buddha-name only after apprehending Mind and seeing nature. Before awakening, because one does not know where the Buddha-recitation “falls,” at every step doubt arises and one cannot obtain the real benefit. After awakening, recognizing the mind’s original source, one may recite or not recite—it is all right either way. There is no such thing as “reciting” and “not reciting.” One neither clings to appearance in seeking to recite nor avoids and refuses to recite. Naked all day long, bare and free—at ease and unobstructed, following conditions—only then is it truly “pure mindfulness continuous,” with not a single thought that is not a Buddha-thought.

As for the expression “pure mindfulness continuous,” there is great learning here; it is entirely no different from the Chan school’s post-awakening “preservation” work. I will, without begrudging words, sketch it as follows.

The two words “pure mindfulness” are not what people usually imagine—“reciting Buddha with a pure mind”—and then you call that “pure mindfulness.” Rather, when the work of Buddha-recitation becomes pure so that the mind-that-can-recite and the Buddha-that-is-recited both fall away and the two—subject and object—perish together so that emptiness and existence are both gone—only then is there “right mindfulness,” and only then is it “pure mindfulness.”

As for “continuous,” it then divides into difference of depth: continuity in stillness, continuity in movement, and the identity of movement and stillness.

First, continuity in stillness. When a reciter’s mind-that-can-and-object-that-is-recited both fall away and the fundamental nature appears, that is the initial manifestation of pure mindfulness. Thereafter, because of the deep habits of clinging to appearances from beginningless aeons, this cannot appear in every sitting; one must wait weeks and months, even a year, for it to appear again—depending wholly on the person’s root-capacity and the density of practice. At this time one must redouble diligence so that the interval between appearances gradually shortens: from a year to several months, to a month, to several days, until, lastly, it appears in every sitting. This is continuity in stillness and corresponds to the first stage of the Chan “preservation” work—“principled single-mind.”

Second, continuity in movement. Though continuity in stillness is constant, when the realms of conditions stir and churn one again loses it; then it cannot be called true continuity. One must polish oneself in the movements of daily use until one is unhindered in every direction and free in favorable and adverse conditions, just as in stillness the lone clarity remains—without any wandering. That is continuity in movement. Sometimes one still forgets: encountering a realm, one moves—but instantly awakens and returns to emptiness. This corresponds to the second stage of the Chan “preservation” work—“phenomenal single-mind.”

Third, the identity of movement and stillness. Whether in movement or stillness there is no wandering at all, and there is no heart that “keeps” anything—purely letting it be as it is. This corresponds to the first stage of the Chan “letting-be” work—“the single-mind of principle and phenomena.”

Fourth, even “continuity” cannot be obtained; there is no mind that “keeps.” All the previously felt “wondrous and rare” is swept clean. All day one seems dull and foolish; tasteless, yet within tastelessness there is the utmost flavor. This corresponds to the second stage of the Chan “letting-be” work—“the single-mind of phenomena-and-phenomena.” This is truly “pure mindfulness continuous.”

For the convenience of later students in selecting methods, I excerpt below the “Ten Methods of Practice” taught by Chan master Yuán Zhīnà for your reference.

Question: “By what method does the patriarchal school treat the mind?” Answer: “By the method of ‘no-mind’ to treat the deluded mind.” Question: “If a person has no mind, he is the same as grass and wood. This talk of ‘no-mind’—please bestow expedients.” Answer: “When we say ‘no-mind’ now, we do not mean that there is no mind-substance; it is called ‘no-mind’ because there is nothing in the mind. Just as when we say ‘empty bottle,’ we mean there is nothing in the bottle; we do not mean there is no bottle at all. Thus the patriarchs said: if you have nothing to do with mind and have no mind in affairs, you will spontaneously be empty yet numinous, quiescent yet wondrous—this is the essential of this mind. According to this, it is ‘no deluded mind’; it is not ‘no true mind’s wondrous function.’ From of old, the masters have spoken of the work of ‘no-mind’ in many different ways. I now gather the great meaning and briefly explain ten kinds.

“First, ‘awareness-and-inspection’: When practicing, ordinarily cease thoughts and guard against the arising of thought. As soon as a single thought is born, immediately use awareness to break it. When the previous thought is broken by awareness, let the later thought not arise. The wisdom that is this awareness, too, need not be used; when delusion and awareness are both forgotten, this is called ‘no-mind.’ Thus the patriarchs said, ‘Do not fear the arising of thoughts; only fear awakening too late.’ And the verse says, ‘Do not seek the true; only stop opinions.’ This is the ‘awareness-and-inspection’ work that rests delusion.

“Second, ‘resting’: When practicing, do not think good or think evil; when mind arises, let it rest; when you meet circumstances, let it cease. Hence the saying: ‘A strip of white silk goes—cold and chill it goes—goes into the incense burner of an ancient temple!’ Until it is free of the slightest fiber and has left discrimination, as if dull and foolish—only then is there a slight accord. This is the work of resting the deluded mind.

“Third, ‘erasing mind and leaving circumstances’: When practicing, rest all deluded thoughts and do not care about external situations—only rest the inner mind. When the deluded mind has rested, what harm are external situations? This is the ancient method of ‘taking the person but not taking the circumstances.’ Master Páng said, ‘Only be without mind regarding the ten thousand things—what harm if the ten thousand things constantly surround you!’ This is the work of resting delusion by erasing mind and leaving circumstances.

“Fourth, ‘erasing circumstances and preserving mind’: When practicing, regard all inner and outer situations as empty and quiescent and preserve only the one mind, solitary and upright. Therefore the ancients said, ‘Do not keep company with the ten thousand things; do not make an opponent of the myriad dusts. If the mind clings to circumstances, the mind is delusion. Now that there are no circumstances, what delusion is there?’ This is the ancient method of ‘taking the circumstances but not taking the person.’ Hence the saying: ‘In the imperial garden the flowers have fallen; carriages and horses are still crowded.’ This is the work of resting delusion by erasing circumstances and preserving mind.

“Fifth, ‘erasing both mind and circumstances’: When practicing, first empty and quiesce the external circumstances and next extinguish the inner mind. When inner and outer—mind and circumstances—are both quiescent, whence delusion at all? Thus Guànxī said: ‘In the ten directions there is no wall, and on the four sides there is also no gate.’ This is the patriarchal method of ‘both person and circumstances taken away.’ Hence the saying: ‘Clouds scatter and waters flow away; man is quiescent and heaven and earth empty!’ This is the work of resting delusion by erasing mind and erasing circumstances.

“Sixth, ‘preserving both circumstances and mind’: When practicing, let mind abide in the place of mind and circumstances abide in the place of circumstances. When mind and circumstances sometimes face each other, mind does not incline to circumstances and circumstances do not press upon mind; they do not reach each other—then deluded thoughts naturally do not arise and there is no obstruction to the Way. Hence the sūtra says: ‘These dharmas abide in their dharma-positions; the marks of the world are constant.’ This is the patriarchal method of ‘neither person nor circumstances taken away.’ Hence the saying: ‘One disk of moon rises from the sea; in several homes people climb their towers!’ This is the work of extinguishing delusion by preserving both circumstances and mind.

“Seventh, ‘the totality of inner and outer’: When practicing, take the mountains and rivers and the great earth, the sun and moon and stars, the inner body and the outer vessel—all dharmas—together as the same as the true-mind-substance: limpid as empty space, bright and still, without the slightest difference. The great chiliocosm is struck into one piece—then from where could deluded mind arise? Thus Dharma-master Zhào said, ‘Heaven and earth and I share the same root; the ten thousand dharmas and I share the same body.’ This is the work of extinguishing delusion by taking inner and outer as one totality.

“Eighth, ‘the total function of inner and outer’: When practicing, regard all inner and outer—body-and-mind and vessel-realm—and all acts of movement and doing as the wondrous function of the true mind. Any thought that arises is precisely the manifestation of this wondrous function. Since all is wondrous function, where could deluded mind be placed? Thus Yongjiā said, ‘The real nature of ignorance is precisely Buddha-nature; the phantom empty body is precisely the Dharma-body.’ This is the work of resting delusion by taking inner and outer as total function.

“Ninth, ‘identity of substance and function’: When practicing, although one is in dark union with the true substance—one flavor of empty quiescence—within it lies hidden the inner limpid brightness, which is precisely ‘function-as-substance’; and within the limpid brightness lies hidden empty quiescence, which is precisely ‘substance-as-function.’ Thus Yongjiā said, ‘Wakeful-wakeful and quiescent-quiescent is it; wakeful-wakeful with imaginings is not it. Quiescent-quiescent and wakeful-wakeful is it; quiescent-quiescent with non-cognition is not it.’ Because within quiescence there is no admitting non-cognition, and within wakefulness there is no using chaotic imaginings—how could deluded mind arise? This is the work of extinguishing delusion by taking substance as function and function as substance.

“Tenth, ‘breaking through substance and function’: When practicing, do not divide inner and outer nor distinguish the four directions; take the eight points and make of them only a single great gate of liberation. Round and replete, substance and function are undivided; there is not the least crack or leak—throughout the body it is struck into one piece. Where then could delusion arise? The ancients said, ‘When the whole body has no cracks, above and below it is a seamless sphere.’ This is the work of extinguishing delusion by breaking through substance-and-function.

“Among these ten kinds of practice one need not do them all: if you accomplish a single gate, delusion itself ceases and the true mind appears. Follow the gate with which your karmic roots have affinity and simply practice it. This work is ‘work without work’; it is not work done with intention. Even those who have not yet awakened to the true mind may practice it and easily, on the spot, behold. This method of resting the deluded mind is most urgent for students of the Way; therefore, without fearing prolixity, I record it for later learners—do not regard it as ‘painting legs on a snake.’”

All ten methods apply force in walking, standing, sitting, and lying down. One must, when putting on clothes and eating, when defecating and urinating, when speaking and working—at all times and everywhere—practice dense awareness and illumination; there is no need to sit in meditation and investigate. If one’s habit-obstructions are deep and one’s strength not yet up to it, and one still must apply seated meditation, then be it so; but when one rises from the seat, press the samādhi work into the realm of conditions and exert force in movement, so that one may early strike it into one piece and reach the great “no-work” and roundly accomplish the great Way of bodhi.

As for Esotericism: after awakening one must all the more cultivate it, aiming at accomplishment “in the body.” Its scope is vast and its expedients many—far beyond the exoteric schools. But esoteric methods value lineage abhiṣeka and transmission; they cannot be publicly spread, so I omit them.

(4) From Realization of the Essence to Activation of Function

As for the “landscape” of realizing the essence, the ancients seldom spoke in detail. First, because this realm lies beyond speech and thought; once you fall into wording, there is the taint of fixation. Second, those who truly realize the essence return to “nothing obtained” and do not wish to flaunt before others. Third, they fear the unawakened will steal it as their own and mislead others. Fourth, they fear people will cling to the realm and seek it, obstructing the gate of awakening. Fifth, the process each person passes through is not entirely the same. For these and other reasons they speak only in approximations: “clouds scatter and the long sky is clear,” “a sky of ten thousand miles without a cloud,” “the heart-moon alone and full, its light containing the myriad forms,” “neither luminous nor dark; neither great nor small; neither blue nor yellow”—or again, “round and replete and shining bright.” I too am no exception—how could I be otherwise? Besides, I have realized nothing and attained nothing and have nothing to say. I can only pick up a few ready-made old cases for readers’ delight. As for the detailed particulars—you must strive and practice and realize it yourself.

When in any Dharma-gate one practices to the point where subject and object are both forgotten and mind-and-dharma are both melted away, then—no matter what gate it is—there is a crashing break: like an explosive going off—suddenly it bursts; the inner body-and-mind and the outer world and even space itself all at once fall away, shatter, and turn to nothing. Even that “nothing” is also nothing. “The whole earth sinks and space is pulverized.” At that moment there is not a single thing; yet there is limpid brightness and congealed quiescence—one spirit not dim—clear, constant knowing not like wood and stone. Though clear, there is neither knower nor known, because this clarity in its entirety is a single stretch of limpid, numinous awareness—there can be no longer a knower and a known. If there were knowing again, it would be “putting a head on top of a head,” no longer it. After one has realized this true realm and turns one’s head back, only then does one recognize that this “numinous awareness” is not elsewhere: every day it shines at the gates of the six faculties and is not for a moment apart from us. In every act of speech and movement there is nothing that is not its numinous, wondrous function. Formerly one sought it with a hundred hardships—how one chased and hunted!—and it was right before one’s eyes unrecognized; one insulted and defiled it and in the six destinies suffered bitterly—was that not a grievance? The ancients said, “The sentence before the sound, a thousand sages do not transmit; the filament before your face, through all antiquity never broken!” And again: “You wear out iron shoes seeking it and cannot find it; finding, it costs not the least effort.” That is what they meant.

But this is only the “plain Dharma-body.” One must toil in polishing and closely remove habits before it can shine forth greatly. When the work is ripe, then even in deep sleep the crown of the head is like a mid-autumn full moon in bright radiance. When the light is pure and the heavenly eye broad and spacious, the worlds of the ten directions appear all at once; I enter into others and others enter into me like Indra’s net—interpenetrating in layers—with inexhaustible function.

Some say this “landscape” pertains to Chan or Esoteric practice; Pure Land reciters, whose aim is to be born in the Western Land, should in samādhi behold Amitābha and the Western holy visions, not “see nothing.” If one “sees nothing,” how can one be born in the Pure Land?

I answer: Have you not seen the “Buddha-Recitation Samādhi” of Master Yinguang cited above? He relentlessly advocates relying on the Buddha’s vow-power to be received to the West—yet why does he, in speaking of the highest state of Buddha-recitation, also say that “seeing without seeing is true seeing,” and that true seeing “sees nothing”? Because the true suchness-Buddha-nature is formless, unstained by even a mote and hanging on nothing: to speak of it as some thing misses the mark. The true Buddha really cannot be spoken of or seen in shape. But this formless Buddha-nature is not a dull void, therefore it can follow conditions, appear in forms, and arise in function; yet because these forms arise by following conditions, they are only provisional names and not entities. To see a “Buddha with form” is not the true Buddha. The ancients said, “The reward-body and transformation-body are not the true Buddha and not the one who preaches the Dharma.” The Lotus calls them “a conjured city,” not the treasure place. If one would be born in the highest rank of the Western Pure Land, one must pass beyond the “with-form” resting place and realize the formless wondrous essence of the true Buddha; only then will one fulfill one’s wish. Conversely, to cling to a “Buddha with form” and a Pure Land with appearances leads only to a lower birth—an unalterable truth. Thus when Master Yinguang speaks of the ultimate state—the Buddha-Recitation Samādhi—he cannot but say that “seeing nothing” is “true seeing.” At such a height, mind and land are struck into one piece: mind is the land and the land is mind. To vow for the West is to be born in the Pure Land of one’s own mind—“born without being born.” How could one fail to be born in the highest rank?

After seeing nature, if one clings to empty stillness or loves seclusion and does not know how to activate function in the realm of affairs, one is like a pauper who has struck it rich and yet does not know what to do with it—remaining as poor as before. Moreover, unless one trains oneself on events and conditions one cannot attain the great samādhi where principle and phenomena are fused, much less the “phenomena-and-phenomena unobstructed” realm whereby the great work of Buddhahood is rounded. Thus one must bring the realized principle to bear in the realm of affairs, rubbing off the corners until it is round and wondrous. Yet at first those newly awakened often do not know how to bring forth function, still less the process by which it unfolds. Sometimes, because their strength is not yet sufficient, there is some wavering when meeting events—and then they doubt that what they realized was not real and shake their roots. Bewildered and at a loss—how pitiable! I now excerpt the essentials from my late teacher Xiāng Lùgōng’s “The Process from Realizing the Essence to Activating Function” so that readers, after realizing the essence, may stimulate the use of prajñā and accomplish the utmost “no-doing.”

The true-appearance wondrous essence originally has the wondrous function of non-abiding. The learner must transfer the clarity and ease realized in essence to those times when people and affairs are upside-down—transforming having into emptiness, transforming inversion into clarity, transforming affliction into ease—so that one not only extinguishes one’s own suffering but can extinguish the suffering of others. This is called “ferrying beings.”

The deeper the work, the quicker habit-energies flare up. The learner need not fear. These seeds in the eighth-consciousness storehouse arise naturally; they flare up quickly and go quickly. Though what flares may be greater than ordinarily, each flare is smaller, shorter, and fewer—the trend is no longer to growth.

The deeper the work, the greater the courage. If suddenly frightened, there is a single fright and no second; the power grows ever stronger with use.

The deeper the work, sometimes forgetfulness of nature increases, and sometimes memory grows strong—becoming daily more nimble. Sensitivity also grows strong; often, without thinking, one is already in accord with things—this is the harbinger of “powers.”

Constantly contemplate this original and tacitly accord with it. When habit-energy comes, at once become aware; awareness then turns it to emptiness, and at the same time use prajñā to sweep away this emptiness, and again use prajñā to sweep away this sweeping—until there is nothing to sweep. Only then does one accord with what is original and accord with the great emptiness of prajñā.

In applying work, one must be exact, fierce, sparing, patient, even, and steady. “Exact” means seeing the direction precisely with no doubt or retreat. “Fierce” means restraining oneself without the least indulgence—never indulging even the tiniest fault. “Sparing” means constantly turning the light around and examining oneself. “Patient” means to await the time; without a suitable span of time, power cannot be full. “Even” means seeing all things as equal, for any clinging arises because the mind is not even and discriminates gain and loss: not knowing that dharmas are originally unarisen, what is there to gain? Dharmas are originally unceasing—what is there to lose? If one can be even, one is naturally not startled, not frightened, not timid, and one transcends into ease. People often have time-marks and gain-loss marks and success-failure marks; when habits come, they cannot break through—this is because equipoise is insufficient and wisdom not complete; that is, because the prajñā-power is not strong. Therefore one must “wait”—wait to that point and the strength will be sufficient. It is like traveling a road: the important thing is that the direction be right and the steps be steady—not whether one is slow or fast. “Steady” means stable and never retreating.

“Apprehending Mind and seeing nature” concerns birth and death over immeasurable aeons—how momentous! It cannot be a matter of mere understanding. If, relying on understanding, one lacks any samādhi, one gives rise to crazy wisdom and inversion and cannot finally be “apprehending Mind.” The process divides into seven stages: (1) by the strongest wisdom-power one sees what is original and thereby gains a little samādhi—like entry by the Chan school; or (2) with strong samādhi, prajñā is evoked so that one sees what is original—like entry by the Heart-Center esoteric method; (3) once one has seen what is original, one must deeply trust without doubt, taking “accepting responsibility” as foremost; (4) seeing that self-nature pervades the Dharma-realm—then all in the Dharma-realm is nothing but this nature. Speak of illusion: it is all illusion; speak of the true: it is all true. But ultimately both “true” and “illusion” are merely names; they are not entities. If the mind is not constrained by them, this is called “non-abiding”; (5) all is non-abiding, yet empty without falling into nihilism—the wondrous function is ever present. Illusory mind is not absent: this is called “non-arising”; (6) though called “non-abiding,” one is by no means unaware or undiscriminating about good and evil: one discriminates without abiding, entering the impartial, non-dual realm; (7) strength at first alternately advances and retreats—now equipoise, now wisdom. Later, equipoise and wisdom are not two, and there is only advance without retreat. This is truly “bright mind,” where principle and phenomena are fused.

After apprehending Mind, views of “I” cannot be instantly removed nor habit-energies instantly purified. If the “I-view” and habits come again and again—and again and again one can turn and transform them—then one truly apprehends Mind. If the power of transformation is small, that is another problem; the only thing to fear is not knowing how to turn and transform—and then one cannot turn and transform. Thus the first thing in the Buddha Way is to open awareness—like obtaining wealth; the second is skillfully to use awareness—like using wealth; the third is to empty even awareness; the fourth is “no such thing as empty or not empty”—it is as it originally is. Just as a truly wealthy person forgets his wealth.

When awareness arises, habit-energy vanishes; but there is a process here, slower for some and faster for others. Ten stages: (1) the realm arrives and one does not become aware; (2) the realm arrives and one becomes aware in hindsight, with great effort; (3) when the realm arrives, awareness arises without much difficulty; (4) the realm arrives and at once one is aware—though with a slight before-and-after; (5) realm and awareness arise together—though sometimes one forgets; (6) they arise together and one can avoid forgetting; (7) awareness comes before the realm—though sometimes after, and occasionally one slips back into forgetting; (8) awareness is constantly unmoving; (9) awareness is not yet pure; (10) “常寂而常照”—constant quiescence with constant illumination—and even awareness does not abide. Only then is strength sufficient.

From of old, great habit-energies are easy to remove and small habit-energies are hard—still not impartial. There will still be fruits of startling, fear, and timidity. The ups and downs here must not be labeled “retreat.”

Ordinarily, use “turning back the light” to examine one’s own dispositions. Any habit—good or bad—that is hard to remove is the root of birth and death; never cling to it as “good” and preserve it. The harder it is to remove, the more you should remove it. Often go against yourself—that is advancement.

Removing habits is like a battle between men and heaven. Only after a hundred fights can one prevail; it is not the work of a day or a night. Only after apprehending Mind does one qualify to enter the battle. This is “activating function”: from small battles to great battles, from small victories to great victories, until the enemy is fundamentally broken and there are no later troubles.

In applying effort never suppress or avoid. The roots of greed and anger must be pulled up and resolved. If one only keeps precepts, equipoise, and wisdom to “treat” greed, anger, and delusion, then the two views of good and evil leave shadows in mind—like defending a city against an enemy: for a while the enemy does not enter, but the enemy has not left; he can seize the chance to enter. That is not ultimate. Do not suppress; do not avoid. Breaking through is best—letting neither side leave a shadow so that the mind is unstained. Enemy and self transform together—then one enters great samādhi.

When the realm arrives, do not meddle and do not give rise to thought, but do not cut off and annihilate it either: this is equipoise in stillness. Facing the realm without confusion, handling it as before—moving yet not moving—this is equipoise in movement. When movement and stillness are one and all is permissible and all is not permissible, that is great equipoise.

To train the mind one must train “the trigger.” This lies in penetrating the law of cause and effect. Constantly raise contemplation, and when the work is mature, great triggers and great functions arise. All afflictions arise from “passion and views”: passion is “I-love,” views are “I-clinging.” When passion and views are firm, they form a cover; then the trigger of “observing causes and reaching effects” loses its nimbleness—hence functions do not arise.

Those who gain “other-minds knowing” rely upon that nimble trigger of “observing causes and reaching effects,” hence they are round and penetrating in principle and phenomena and, without thinking, it is as if seen. Equipoise and wisdom must support one another and the work be mature; this is called “powers.” There is nothing mystical to seek.

Being willing to do what one disdains to do, say what one is unwilling to say, and befriend those one is unwilling to befriend—then one is not far from the light of equal-wisdom.

Finding fault in others not only keeps one from entering non-duality; it also obstructs one’s own holy path and gives rise to pride—most to be avoided by practitioners!

When one applies effort with pain and urgency, there will certainly be a period of being out of step with worldly manners; hence, “as if grieving a parent.” In the extreme of urgency one will err in propriety and deportment. People do not understand and think it pride and arrogance or suspect madness. Everyone must pass through this; it is hard to explain.

If one’s practice is sometimes diligent and sometimes lax—seeming to advance and retreat—do not be suspicious or discouraged. This is precisely the time of advancing. Do not be impatient and despondent.

To like stillness and hate disturbance is inequality itself; it must be avoided. Know that stillness and disturbance are merely the mind’s discrimination—unrelated to the realm.

Those who practice the Way and praise themselves while slandering others—belittling others and exalting themselves—are most shameful and laughable. Beware lest the knowing reproach you!

Do not make vows lightly, for it is easy to vow and hard to fulfill. If you wish to make great and firm vows, let not a single thread of passion or views be mixed within.

Of the eight winds, four are easy to guard and four hard to prevent. Adverse winds are easy to see; favorable winds often draw one into their net unawares. Therefore in smooth and pleasing matters one must be more alert, lest one be rolled up into the realm.

There are no “extraordinary things” here. Only remove habits. Do not make “holy interpretations.” So-called “mysteries and transformations” are commonplace; because they are seldom seen, people marvel and call them mystic, forget what is original, and enter the demonic path—what a pity!

Never compare lengths with others in your work; rather, silently examine yourself.

Methods are expedients for a time—never grasp at methods. To crave methods is the same as craving fame and profit: equally birth-and-death. To “become a Buddha” is to become like the Buddha’s empty nature. If the mind clings to anything, it instantly loses what is original and departs the Buddha-realm. Always be alert!

Removing habits also depends on conditions; there will be differences of slow and fast. After apprehending Mind, if preservation is dense (and by “preservation” do not suppress the heart from arising; just be able to transform and not abide), then after a suitable period there will be the marvel of habits suddenly being removed.

All the sufferings of beings arise from a single word: disorder. Disorder arises from inferential cognition. The one who has seen nature—seeing, hearing, cognizing, and knowing—when not giving rise to thought, meets the realm with direct perception (pratyakṣa). When thought arises and discriminates, “moving without moving,” though inferential, it is also pratyakṣa. To be constantly thus is called “struck into one piece.”

The size of expedient power follows the size of wisdom-power; the size of wisdom-power lies in whether contemplation-and-illumination is round or not round. When round, it is penetrating; when penetrating, it is round. “Penetrating” means that mind is without obstruction; “obstruction” is mind obstructing mind. When mind is bright and round and unconfused, it penetrates—this is called the unobstructed wisdom that issues from the great compassion dhāraṇī. “Dhāraṇī” is the most empty and most dense place of mind.

The way to train the mind is to endure and pass beyond obstruction. All habits have no fixed nature and nothing is inherently unacceptable. The suffering lies in raising a fixed habit that “it must be this way” and refusing to go against oneself; thus obstruction is set up. If one can endure and pass beyond, there is no obstruction—for originally there was none. Matters of “face” are a phantom; at the utmost, one only loses a phantom “face.” See whether it really obstructs. It is but a momentary discomfort; in the end you win through. The unobstructed wisdom-power thereby obtained—could it be bought with ten thousand pieces of gold? Practicing the Buddha Way is the work of a great person: able to endure, able to put down; not swamped by the world yet not at odds with it—“harmonious though different”—and one transcends into holiness.

Dreams can measure the depth of one’s work. When practice is dense, the mind is moved in dreams; if in the dream there is mastery, this proves one will not enter the three evil destinies—for entry into the three evil destinies always stems from loss of the mind’s lordship. There is following-power but no master-power; because one follows karma high or low, one enters without knowing. If there is a tenth of the power in dreams, there will be the full ten tenths on waking. The relation of mind and body in dreams is a half-separation; death is a full separation. Death and dream are not greatly different.

All wondrous functions do not leave worldly awareness; after apprehending Mind and seeing nature, one must, in the ways of human feelings and worldly matters, be mindful everywhere, practice thoroughness, and mutually remove habits. One must be well-versed in cause and effect to gain the trigger beforehand and bring forth great function.

The “Abiding-Mind Chapter” of the Mahāvairocana Sūtra says: “When a bodhisattva first realizes the Way, he immediately attains the Samādhi of Removing the Cover-Obstructions and thereby abides with the Buddhas; he brings forth the five ‘powers,’ attains the dhāraṇī of knowing the languages of all beings, can know the minds and practices of all beings, and carries out the works of the Buddhas to liberate them.” To “realize the Way” is to see nature and become Buddha; to “remove the cover-obstructions” is to remove habit-energies. When habit-energies are purified, the five “powers” are manifested—not something one can seek in advance. After “powers” are gained, one uses “knowing others’ minds” as expedient to liberate beings. This is the process from realization of essence to activation of function; anyone who does not enter by this road is an outsider.

After realizing the Way, even if the five “powers” are not wholly manifest at once, one is no longer the same as ordinary people: since the root has been realized, the removal of cover-obstructions and the manifestation of the “powers” begin simultaneously—only the strength is small.

After awakening, to be the same as before awakening—unless one reaches the plainness of “no flavor,” the furnace fire cannot be pure. Thus: “Great wisdom seems foolish.” All day long one seems dull and daft—struck into one piece.

The above is truly the ferry from apprehending Mind and seeing nature to evoking the use of prajñā after realizing the essence. If learners can believe without doubt, then after realization they can, moment by moment, lift it up; and in human feelings and worldly matters they can polish themselves, deeply understand beings’ minds and practices, and be versed in the law of cause and effect. Then, removing the cover-obstructions and manifesting the five “powers,” great triggers and great functions arise.

(5) The Question of “Where to Go”

Some have asked: after apprehending Mind and seeing nature, where does one go when one “enters stillness” (dies)? Others ask: when the Sixth Patriarch entered stillness he said, “I myself know where I am going,” but did not say where—was it that he knew and did not say, or that he did not know and so did not say?

Where one goes at death is indeed crucial for practitioners. If this is not understood, it will hinder one’s progress and cause detours in the future fruition.

In general, the masses of beings pop in and out of the six destinies, revolving without cease—born and dying, not knowing why. Now that one has awakened, recognized one’s own mind, and seen one’s own nature, one should know whence birth comes and whither death goes. If one is still muddled and does not know, is that not boasting and taking non-awakening for awakening?

But “going and coming in birth and death” is spoken for those who are deluded and cling to appearances. For those who have awakened, the straight eye opened and the true mind seen: the three realms and six destinies are not truly existent, and the pure lands of the ten directions are like moons in water. Originally there is no birth—whence “extinction”? Originally there is no extinction—whence “birth”? With birth and extinction both absent, how could there be “going and coming”—let alone a “where” to go!

After awakening, the Sixth Patriarch said: “Who would have thought that self-nature is originally pure! Who would have thought that self-nature is originally unborn and undying! Who would have thought that self-nature is originally complete in itself! Who would have thought that self-nature is originally unmoving! Who would have thought that self-nature can give rise to the ten thousand dharmas!” To “apprehend Mind and see nature” is to see precisely this true nature of “wondrous presence in true emptiness”—unmoving and not coming or going, unborn and undying, yet following conditions to appear in forms and give rise to all function. If one has clearly seen that self-nature is unborn and undying and not coming or going, how could one then extract from it some “going,” “coming,” “birth,” and “death,” and assign a “where”? Therefore, if one speaks of a “time of death” and “where one is born,” one has not truly awakened and seen nature.

When the Sixth Patriarch said, “I myself know where I am going,” he was “holding up a yellow leaf to stop a child’s crying.” He did not clearly state a “where” because in truth there is no “where.” Nature is like empty space—where could space “go”? If one sees a “where,” one has made it solid and clung to appearances; with solidity and clinging, birth and death are not ended. With no “where,” one can go everywhere—able to go everywhere and yet never having gone. “To return is to have no return; having no return is return. Everywhere is return; arriving anywhere is return.”

Furthermore, “wondrous presence in true emptiness” is wondrous because there is presence—otherwise it would be a dead void; and “true emptiness in wondrous presence” is true emptiness because there is empty truth—otherwise it becomes a false presence. Those who thoroughly awaken to mind-nature merge appearance and emptiness and fuse substance and function: they neither lean to emptiness nor cling to presence. In the place of no birth and death they do not mind displaying birth and death; though born, they are unborn; though unborn, they are not “non-born.” Thus, in heaven above and earth below, among the four births and six destinies, and even in the pure lands of the ten directions—nowhere is there not “being born.” In the place without going and coming they do not mind sticking their heads in and out; though appearing everywhere, in reality there is no going and coming—without going and coming, they nevertheless “ever come and ever go,” not a dead immobility sitting behind the Black Mountain while calling it “no birth and death.”

Layman Pang’s “Hymn to the Unborn” says: “When there are sons, they do not marry; when there are daughters, they do not wed; the whole family gathers in a perfect circle and together speaks of the Unborn.”

A Chan master answered in verse: “There are no men to marry, no women to wed; with the great assembly gathered round, what ‘Unborn’ is there to talk about!”

I try a verse in response: “Where there are sons, they also marry; where there are daughters, they also wed; sons and then grandsons without end—this too is talk of the Unborn.”

Taken together, the three poems precisely display the nature of true-emptiness and marvelous-existence: there is no birth, yet nothing is not born; there is no place, yet nowhere is it not present. One who truly sees the nature is free and at ease in accord with conditions, not attaching in the slightest to appearances, making no distinctions of pure versus defiled, ordinary versus sage, or of the four modes of birth and the six destinies. What we call birth and death, coming and going, are all play in samādhi—never landing on any real “having.” If this is clearly so, why insist on pointing out some concrete “place” one goes?

A monk asked Changsha, “Where did Nanquan go when he passed away?”

Sha said, “He’s a donkey at the house to the east, a horse at the house to the west!”

Another monk asked, “Where did Nanquan go when he passed away?”

Sha said, “If you want to ride, ride; if you want to dismount, dismount.”

A third monk asked, “Where did Nanquan go when he passed away?”

Sha said, “When Shitou was a novice he visited the Sixth Patriarch.”

He was asked yet again, and he said, “Teach him to go and reflect on it.”

Asked three more times later, Sha was three times silent.

Such praise of this true-thusness, this wondrous nature—so ghostly-sudden, so beyond conception—has no place where one can get a grip on it!

Sansheng (a Dharma-heir of Linji), hearing this, said: “Changsha’s replies can be called unprecedented and never to be repeated—rare in all ages!” From this we see that the numinous, knowing nature is nowhere absent. We need only lay everything down and not abide anywhere in the least—do not seek some place for being—and then everywhere is “being,” resting where we find ourselves and always at ease.

But those who are clearly awakened to self-nature, if old habits are deep, may in daily use still be unable to be unbound in both favorable and adverse circumstances, and unstained by sights and sounds. Then the portioned birth-and-death is not yet finished; they still cannot roam in the carefree way described above. They must go back and forth between heavens and human realms three times or seven times before gaining full ease. On this point, Chan master Guifeng (Zongmi), according to the depth of one’s work, distinguishes three kinds of freedom, urging students to apply themselves:

If, when delusive thoughts arise, you do not follow them at all, then at life’s end karma will naturally be unable to bind you. Though there is an intermediate state, you are free as to where you turn and head, able to lodge as you wish in heaven or among humans. This is freedom in taking birth.

If thoughts of love and hate have already been extinguished, then you do not take a portioned body at all, and you can change short into long, coarse into fine. This is freedom of transformation.

If the subtle stream has everywhere come to rest in quiescence and only the bright, all-encompassing wisdom remains—then you respond to occasions with a hundred thousand million transformation-bodies to liberate beings with affinity. This is called Buddhahood—ultimate freedom.

Fellow practitioners: after we have awakened to original nature, we must guard and maintain it strictly, strive to advance, and diligently, unremittingly exhaust the present karma-stream consciousness, so as to reach ultimate freedom and the supreme fruit. Do not, having gained a little, think it enough—stalling and sliding downward. If, in the end, strength does not match the heart and conditions do not come together, then at least strive to achieve freedom of transformation. If even that cannot be done, then make the vow to be reborn in Amitābha’s Western Land of Bliss, or in the Inner Court of Tuṣita, or in other Buddha-lands of purity, in order to end the two kinds of death and realize the changeless true. Since the Ming dynasty, many Chan masters—such as Lianchi and Chewu—after awakening vowed to be reborn in the Western Pure Land; perhaps it was precisely because they could not accomplish the freedom of transformation and thus necessarily vowed to Pure Land.

Those who cultivate the Heart-Center Esoteric Method, if they fear they cannot complete full realization in this life, should, in addition to their practice, recite Maitreya Bodhisattva’s root mantra forty-nine times daily, to lay in a ledger for future rebirth in Tuṣita—so as to guarantee advance without retreat. This, too, shows an earnest heart.

Of course, there are great-hearted ordinary folk who, for the sake of liberating beings, do not fear birth and death—who enter the three evil destinies as one would enter the four holy realms, without the least sign of difficulty. These are truly great men of towering resolve, revered by gods and humans and praised and protected by Buddhas and bodhisattvas; they are not included in the foregoing cases.

(vi) Conclusion

All the above tugging this way and that has spoken of the meaning of “illumining the mind and seeing one’s nature” and of the means of gaining it, then introduced the expedients for true cultivation after awakening, and further described the process from realizing the essence to activating function—quoting along the way from earlier and later worthies. It may seem that the Dharma-gate of “illumining the mind and seeing the nature,” of “sudden awakening and gradual cultivation,” and of “completion within a single lifetime,” has been exhaustively set forth. But, to be blunt and exact, all of this is idle talk that wastes beings—hardly worth mentioning, superfluous to say. For all beings are originally Buddhas; no cultivation is needed, no realization is needed. Their wondrous functioning is originally without limit, their spiritual powers unhindered. Simply by letting one’s wearing of clothes and eating of rice go on by itself, responding to conditions and dealing with things with no taking or rejecting, no attachment and no seeking—just thus, one is the thus-as-is Buddha.

Patriarch Linji said: “Right now, the bright and distinct one with no shape and no segment—solitary illumination (that is, right before your eyes there is a formless, imageless clarity, like space, bright and distinct without interruption, absolute and without a second)—that is the living Buddha, the living patriarch.” He also said: “Your single thought of pure-mind-light is the Dharmakāya Buddha; your single thought of non-discriminating-mind-light is the Sambhogakāya Buddha; your single thought of non-differentiating-mind-light is the Nirmāṇakāya Buddha.” He also said: “My seeing is no different from Śākyamuni’s; in my daily manifold uses, what am I lacking?” The sixfold divine radiance (the functioning of the six faculties) has never for a moment ceased—what is that if not Buddha?

If we can, in all affairs and conditions, have no leaning and no turning away, no taking and no rejecting—handling everything with easy sufficiency, free in giving and taking—then laughter and scolding alike are spiritual powers and wondrous function; walking, standing, sitting, and lying are all the Ocean-Seal shining forth. “Spiritual” means that whatever one does is the play of the true mind’s divine light: all appearances are raised by it, and all works are accomplished by it. “Power” means no hindrance and no obstruction, no block and no plug: in the realm of events, no hate and no love, no joy and no sorrow. If it is truly thus, then body and mind are light and quick, released from the world’s dust-burdens; “neither mind nor Buddha”—hungry, eat; tired, sleep. What further cultivation is there to do?

And yet beings’ eyes do not see straight. Either they chase scenes and pursue things, attaching to appearances, or they heap up delusive thoughts with deep layers of opinion and emotion. Because of this, they burden the Buddhas to the point that, to bring peace under heaven, Yunmen would like to kill them with one blow and feed them to the dogs. Still, the Buddhas’ compassion is deep and aching: they do not fear taking the blame, they do not fear being beaten to death, but come in great waves to give beings their heads, eyes, brains, and marrow—speaking the twelve divisions of the teachings from a place where no words can be opened, and establishing the eighty-four thousand Dharma-gates from a place where there is no handle to take hold of—only wanting us to wake from our dream and go back home, recovering our original face. Their intention is truly painstaking!

If, after all this clear explanation, we still cannot bite down and are unwilling to affirm that “one’s own mind is Buddha”—or we fail to understand that wearing clothes and eating rice are the very spiritual powers and wondrous function, and instead chase after the rare and the mysterious—then not only must we diligently recite the Buddha’s Name and investigate Chan, we must even more devoutly cultivate esoteric methods, so that relying on meditative absorption we open wisdom, awaken to what is originally so, and then go on to maintain and wear away habits, return home to sit securely, and be done with birth and death. Do not, blindly and loosely, indulge in grand talk of “no cultivation, no attainment, no realization,” and thereby miss a whole life and harm those who come after!

Nor should we fear difficulty and hold back, letting a fine chance slip by. What are called “spiritual powers and transformations” are in truth ordinary, for they are simply the wondrous function innate to our own nature; they do not come from outside. It is only that in daily life they are blocked by delusive thoughts and so do not appear; when delusion suddenly ends, they appear—because we have seen them little, we marvel much and deem them ineffably mysterious. In fact, everyone has them and everyone can do them; like putting on clothes and eating rice, everyone can—what is so rare?

The ancients said that to fall into the three evil destinies is the same as to fall into the four holy realms; all ten Dharma-realms share the same spiritual powers and transformations—what is there to value or to find strange? Moreover, the moment you chase after the rare and strange, you enter the demonic path—that must be carefully avoided.

As for doing the work of “no-thought,” by no means press thoughts down so they do not arise; rather, when a thought arises, do not follow it, do not climb onto conditions, do not dwell in the object. People are not wood or stone—how could they have no thoughts? A Buddha is the great engine of great function—a lively, nimble awakener—how could he not have thoughts arise? Thus the Sūtra of Perfect Enlightenment instructs us: “At all times one does not give rise to delusive thoughts, and regarding all delusive minds one also does not extinguish them.” And the Diamond Sūtra says, “Let the mind arise without dwelling anywhere!” The Sixth Patriarch, critiquing the gāthā of Layman Wò Lún on “extinguishing the mind,” said: “Huìnéng has no skills; he does not cut off the hundred thoughts. Facing conditions, the mind repeatedly arises—how could bodhi grow long?” Therefore we should, moment by moment, keep the mind empty—no taking and no rejecting regarding all things, no emotional stirring—and simply respond to conditions and deal with things, without any sense that “the mind is arising in response,” and when the matter is done, let there be no trace of having used the mind. Thus, though active all day, not once has one been active; though thoughts stir all day, not one thought has arisen. Chan master Lǎnróng’s “Hymn of No-Mind” says: “Just when mind is exactly being used, just then it is exactly no-mind that uses; when no-mind exactly uses, constant use is exactly no [sense of] using.” This is truly the best portrait of no-mind.

Next: to do the work of no-thought is not to extend the blank, “no-thought” interval between the cutting-off of the previous thought and the not-yet-arising of the next—as if progress meant lengthening it from one minute today to five minutes, ten minutes, an hour, even twenty-four hours. Know that no-thought is lively, not a dull lump like wood or stone. A monk asked Zhaozhou, “What is no-thought?”

Zhou said, “Playing ball on fast-running water!”

A later master glossed: “Thought-after-thought does not stay.”

So “no-thought” does not mean “not a single thought arises.” It means: as soon as it arises, it rests—without a trace of dwelling or sign. Thus, just as described above, even at the very moment of raising a thought to respond to conditions, one does not see thought arising. With no arising, how could there be ceasing? Without arising and ceasing, this is called “no-thought.” When not responding to conditions, even if not a single thought arises, it is still like “spring ice on a tiger’s tail”—upon meeting conditions it will arise. It is not a dead, insensate stillness like wood or stone.

Someone asks: “After today’s detailed exposition, I do truly believe that the empty-quiescent numinous knowing when not a single thought arises is our true nature. But why can I still not pass through the Chan cases one by one?”

Answer: There is nothing particularly strange about Chan cases. They only test whether the student will be taken in or grabbed by a situation, whether they will set up a view and be tricked by words and phrases, and whether they will fall into annihilationism or instead be free and easy in functioning. Once you recognize the root, just maintain it closely; prajñā will naturally open day by day, and the light of wisdom will naturally grow round and full. Then you will have no trouble understanding such sayings. “Only get the root; do not worry about the branches. If you fear you will not become a Buddha, don’t worry that a Buddha won’t be able to speak!” The sayings of the Chan school are not deliberately outlandish or playing at the mysterious; they test the sharpness or dullness of the student’s capacity and examine the depth of one’s entry and one’s power to look after the original.

So as long as our daily tempering is deep and the mind is empty like the great void—not taken in by contrived situations—then, at all times and everywhere, with mind empty and non-abiding, we will respond to the occasion with natural quickness. Any word, any case—we know at a glance where it lands. For example, Guishan Lingyou addressed the assembly: “A hundred years from now, this old monk will be reborn as a water buffalo at the benefactor’s house below the mountain; on my right flank it will be branded, ‘Formerly the false monk So-and-so of Guishan.’ Call me the monk of Guishan, and it’s a water buffalo; call me a water buffalo, and it’s the monk of Guishan—what will you call me?” He is using “water buffalo” and “monk of Guishan” to swap your eyes and see whether you get taken in. If your mind is not empty and pure, you will work on the names and get fooled by “buffalo” and “monk,” setting up an interpretation right on the names—then you’ve taken the bait! You must use the method of “shedding”—leave aside both “buffalo” and “monk” and then answer, and only then is there a way out. “Monk” and “buffalo” are merely provisional appearances and names for a time; from the standpoint of true nature, where are there “buffalo” and “monk”? So place your eye on the true—let not a single thing be set up—and you break out of the encirclement. At the time no one in Guishan’s assembly could answer; later an elder answered well: “The Master has no second name.” He does not speak of names, yet he does not leave names; he says there is originally no name, yet one can assign any name; he neither attaches to “monk” and “buffalo,” nor departs from them. He passes beyond names and appearances, showing true-suchness—yet true-suchness is not apart from these names and appearances. Indeed, it is a double-edged, wondrous phrase!

But we today need not let the ancients have all the glory; we can give another line to match the old. Since the marvelous function of original nature is without limit, we can pluck it across or lift it upright and depict it as we please; there is no need to stick to one pattern. The answer above speaks from essence; we can now answer from function: “Idle names have always filled the Five Lakes!” Friends—do you get it? Tell me: is it the same as the above or different?

Again, Chan master Gaofeng asked a student: “Why does a great cultivator of mind not keep the Vinaya?”—again testing whether the student is not bound by names and appearances. The same “shedding” answer suffices: “Because he does not recognize good and bad.” Since Buddha-nature is pure and unstained, not a thread clinging, without good or evil—what “keeping” or “not keeping,” what “wisdom” or “not wisdom” is there! To speak of precepts, concentration, and wisdom is to gouge sores in good flesh—a vain suffering!

Next, even when the tongue is smooth and the words subtle, one must examine closely to know if there is true awakening. Some Chan fellows read a few cases in books or hear some turns of phrase from others, steal them as their own, and wag their tongues. If by chance they hit upon a “matching” line, they take it as proof that they have opened enlightenment—this is a great mistake! For example, Chan master Xuefeng addressed the assembly: “To speak of this matter—there is a likeness to an ancient mirror: a Hu comes, a Hu appears; a Han comes, a Han appears.” Xuansha stepped forward and asked, “What if the mirror itself appears?”

The Master said, “Hu and Han both disappear!”

Sha said, “Master, your heels don’t touch the ground!”—refusing Xuefeng.

Recently, a Chan practitioner said, “Why not answer: ‘Break the mirror and meet face-to-face!’”—also a fine phrase. But we must test whether there is real seeing. I then pressed: “Once the mirror is broken, how do you ‘meet’?” He was immediately tongue-tied. It is clear such “matching lines” did not flow out of his own breast; they were hearsay gotten from outside. As Guizong said, this is “frog-Chan”—able to make only one hop. And as the ancients warned: “One ‘matching phrase’ becomes a donkey-stake for ten thousand generations!”—be wary!

Again, at Tiantong Monastery, Chan master Miyun Yu, at the winter solstice, sent his attendant to deliver cotton robes to the elders in the hermit huts. One elder said to the attendant, “This old monk already has the ‘mother-born coat’; I have no need of cold-weather clothes.” The attendant reported back. Miyun said, “This monk seems to have some awakening, but I fear it’s not real; search further beneath his words.” He sent the attendant again to ask: “What coat did you wear before your mother was born?” The elder could not answer. Miyun told him to investigate this saying. Three years later the monk died without an answer. At the cremation there were innumerable relics—everyone marveled. Miyun said, “Ten bushels of relics aren’t worth a single turning phrase. You try to answer.” All were silent. This case shows that a phrase that only seems right is not true awakening; even cremation that yields relics is not proof of realization. Only when you truly recognize your own mind and see your own nature can you be like a gourd pressed under water—touch it and it flips; round and unhindered, lively and free. To repay the reader, and to finish this case, let me, not fearing to bare my clumsiness, offer a substitute line: when asked, “What coat did you wear before your mother was born?” simply say, “Just as the peach and plum are fading, chrysanthemums and plum blossoms are freshly added!”—and spare him Miyun’s probing.

We must not pretend to be “those who understand.” Do not get a half-baked grasp of principle and preen yourself, taking it for enlightenment. Work solidly where it is stable and tight. Even if for a time you cannot “pass” these cases, it is no great matter. As long as you recognize the original for real and guard it strictly—“mind after mind not different, thought after thought without a slip”—and diligently remove delusive habits and remake yourself, in three to five years you will have “shed the skin entirely and only the one real remains exposed.” Then the old monks’ tongues will not fail to be “pierced seven times through and eight times across,” and whatever you pluck across or lift upright will all be marvelous truth. These sayings—and all spiritual powers and wondrous function—are nothing but idle furnishings within your own self-nature mind. What rare thing is there to esteem?

Moreover, one who has truly come home arrives at “nothing to obtain”—“no Buddha and no beings, no realization and no attainment!” If there is even a whisker of the mysterious, the least bit of the “miraculous,” you have already attached to the object; not only will you be unable to become a Buddha—you will have a share in becoming a demon! Sadly, some well-known people today are also attached to spiritual powers and functions—the mind not yet calm and pure. When judging people of past and present, they either say, “So-and-so has great spiritual powers,” or, “So-and-so has no ability,” and fail to point out where they cling and attach, so that later students know how to advance and be spurred on. This only shows that those critics still “hold to something,” stuck in a rut—how can their words not stir deep sighs!

So that later students can tell true mind from deluded mind, know where to be bold and diligent, and not stray into side paths, let me excerpt Chan master Zhina’s “Straight Talk on the True Mind” on distinguishing true and false:

“Question: When true mind and deluded mind meet a situation, how can we tell them apart? Answer: The deluded mind ‘knows by knowing’ in front of the object; faced with agreeable or disagreeable conditions, it gives rise to greed or anger, and in neutral situations it gives rise to ignorance. Since it gives rise to the three poisons of greed, anger, and ignorance in relation to situations, it is the deluded mind. The true mind, by contrast, ‘not-knowing yet knowing.’ Because it is evenly embracing and roundly illumining, it is not like grass or wood; because it gives rise to no hate or love, it is not like the deluded mind. Facing situations, it is open and bright—no hate, no love—‘not-knowing yet knowing’ is the true mind. Thus the Treatise of Seng-zhao says: The sage’s mind is subtle and imageless; it cannot be called ‘existent.’ Use it ever more diligently and it cannot be called ‘nonexistent.’ Therefore it is not existent—hence it knows and yet does not know; it is not nonexistent—hence it does not know and yet knows. Thus ‘not-knowing is precisely knowing’—there is no way to express how it differs from the sage’s mind.

“Again, the deluded mind: where there is ‘having,’ it attaches to having; where there is ‘nothing,’ it attaches to nothing—always on the two sides, not knowing the Middle Way. Yongjia says: To leave the deluded mind and grasp the true principle—this mind of taking and leaving becomes clever falsity; students who do not understand this and use cultivation—truly ‘recognize a thief and take him for your son.’ The true mind, by contrast, dwells in having and nothing without falling into having or nothing—always abiding in the Middle. Thus a patriarch says: Do not chase the existent conditions; do not dwell in the patience of emptiness. A single kind of level-heartedness—everything is naturally exhausted. Seng-zhao says: Therefore the sage dwells in ‘having yet not having,’ abides in ‘nothing yet not nothing.’ Though he does not grasp at having and nothing, he does not discard having and nothing. Therefore he softens the light and mixes with the dust, turning through the five destinies—silent in going, placid in coming; bland and without doing, yet nothing is left undone.

“Again, the true mind is the ordinary mind; the deluded mind is the un-ordinary mind. Question: What is the ordinary mind? Answer: Everyone has a point of numinous clarity, limpid as the void and pervading everywhere. In worldly matters it is by convention called ‘principle-nature’; in the deluded consciousness it is temporarily named ‘true mind.’ With not the least discrimination, it does not miss in meeting events; with not a single thought of taking and leaving, it meets things and is wholly adequate. It is not dragged around by the ten thousand conditions. Even if, following the flow, it obtains the wondrous, it never leaves the very place of quiescent suchness. If you go looking for it, instantly you fail to see that ‘it is not absent’—this is the true mind. Question: What is the un-ordinary mind? Answer: Situations such as ordinary and sage, defiled and pure, annihilation and permanence, arising and ceasing, motion and stillness, coming and going, good and ugly, beautiful and evil—to the point of the thousand differences and ten thousand distinctions—these are all un-ordinary situations. When the mind follows these un-ordinary situations and so arises and ceases—relative to the previous ordinary true mind—this is called the un-ordinary deluded mind. Question: Does the ordinary true mind never arise? Answer: The true mind sometimes exercises function; it does not arise by following situations, but only plays with its wondrous function—without obscuring cause and effect!”

Students—pray, give this three careful readings!

Finally, a frank word of counsel. After recognizing the true mind and realizing the original, we must still practice all wholesome deeds: first, to grind and temper our habits and increase the light of wisdom; second, to amass merit and virtue as the provisions for Buddhahood. Though our true-suchness nature is pure, we still have beginningless habit-stains unremoved. Unless we perfume and train with many expedients, the afflictions will never be cleansed. And since these afflictive stains pervade everywhere, we must cultivate all wholesome actions as antidotes. Furthermore, a Buddha is the Honored Two-Footed One—wisdom and merit both complete—only then can one become a Buddha. If one has only wisdom without merit, one is merely an arhat and cannot become a Buddha; therefore one must widely practice the good and accumulate merit. Do not, relying on “naturalness,” fail to practice the manifold virtues, fall into laxity, and mistakenly slide into evil destinies—this would forge a great fault! But when practicing the good, it must accord with no-mind; do not grasp at the reward of merit. If you grasp at reward, you fall among the human and heavenly destinies and will find it hard to realize true-suchness and be free of birth and death. If you accord with no-mind, it becomes an expedient for Buddhahood: you transcend birth and death and at the same time are endowed with vast blessings. As the Diamond Sūtra says: “When a bodhisattva gives without dwelling in any sign, his merit and virtue are beyond calculation!”—words worth a thousand gold.

To finish, I playfully compose a ci-poem in the tune “Treading on Grasses,” echoing Qin Guan and Tao Zhu’s “Inn at Chenzhou,” to bring this essay to a close. In olden days, Chenzhou was desolate and sparsely peopled—a place of exile. Shaoyou, banished there because of the New Policies, grew sad and wrote a poem full of longing and grief. Tao’s poem, by contrast, takes the Chenzhou of today—flourishing in construction, industry thriving, scenery lovely—and, with an open breast, answers his in reverse: bold, bright, brisk, and many-hued. Both poems were printed in the papers and for a time were much talked about. Here I join the intention of the two and compose yet one more—to show that Buddhadharma is not apart from worldly dharmas, and worldly dharmas are precisely Buddhadharma—so as to help you polish yourselves in the realm of affairs, remove habitual obstructions, roundly realize bodhi, and let worldly dharmas blaze with great radiance. Where I fall short, I beg the reader’s corrections.

Mist hides the belvedere; green overgrows the ford,

Peach Blossom Spring is never apart from ordinary places!

The scene has no good or bad—only hearts make the split;

Let things go by their course; do not plant the tree of views.

A bridge vaults like a long rainbow; a fish bears a letter on its back;

This landscape’s brilliance is measureless beyond counting!

At ease with conditions, let yourself drift and sink—

Glad to be spring mud, guarding a hundred flowers.

Writing this far, I cannot help a great belly-laugh!

Suddenly someone says: “Why laugh—aren’t you afraid you’ll open your mouth and be unable to close it?”

I shout with a thunderclap: “Who has seen me open my mouth!”

Just this:

I have said all the love of cloud-mountain and sea-moon—

Lips never moved; the heart did not stir.

The jade hare grows great with child; the oyster carries the moon;

A mud-ox enters the sea; a wooden dragon roars!