Song of Enlightenment Commentary (證道歌注)

(Annotations on the Song of Enlightenment)

Song of the Realization of the Path

Understanding through conditions is called realization. The path walked by a thousand sages is called the Way. Singing of that Way is called a song. Therefore it is called the Song of Realizing the Way.

Some people say: "The one who neither cultivates nor realizes refers to those scattered sages who assist the Buddha in spreading the teachings. They already realized the Way in the past and do not need to realize it again. It is like gold extracted from ore that will never again become ore." These are figures such as Master Bao, Wanhui, Hanshan, Shide, Songtou Tuo, and Mahasattva Fu.

But if one has realized something, one must seek a teacher's confirmation before one can truly call it realization. This was acceptable before the Buddha King of Awesome Sound, but after the Buddha King of Awesome Sound, anyone who awakens without a teacher is entirely a naturalist outsider. That is why the twenty-five great masters who realized perfect penetration received the Buddha's confirmation, and why Sudhana, who visited fifty-three spiritual teachers, received confirmation from those teachers. Even all the patriarchs of India and China confirmed one another in turn. This is what is meant by "Buddhas hand it to Buddhas, patriarchs transmit it to patriarchs."

The Master realized entry by reading the Great Parinirvana Sutra. He went to Caoxi, where the Sixth Patriarch confirmed him. When the Master arrived, the Patriarch was sitting. He walked three times around the meditation platform, shook his staff once, and stood firmly. The Patriarch said: "A monk possesses three thousand dignified bearings and eighty thousand fine practices; not one should be lacking. Where have you come from, Great Virtuous One, that you give rise to such great arrogance?"

The Master said: "Birth and death are a grave matter; impermanence is swift."

The Patriarch said: "Why not directly realize the unborn and understand that there is no swiftness?"

The Master said: "Realizing it is itself the unborn; understanding it is fundamentally without swiftness."

The Patriarch said: "So it is, so it is."

After a moment, he bowed and took his leave. The Patriarch said: "Are you not leaving too quickly?"

The Master said: "Fundamentally there is no motion or stillness—how could there be swiftness?"

The Patriarch said: "Who is it that knows there is no motion?"

The Master said: "You yourself are giving rise to discrimination, honorable one."

The Patriarch said: "You have truly grasped the meaning of the unborn."

The Master said: "The unborn—how could it have any meaning?"

The Patriarch said: "If it has no meaning, who gives rise to discrimination?"

The Master said: "Discrimination itself is also not a meaning."

The Patriarch sighed in praise: "Excellent, excellent!"

Only after receiving confirmation could it be called realization. It is truly not the case of those of the lesser vehicles, heavenly demons, and outsiders who, having not attained, claim attainment, and having not realized, claim realization. The ancient virtuous ones said: "Worldly scholars of letters and blindly practicing meditators are a great calamity for the Buddha-Dharma." Truly, how pitiable!

What is realized here is different from that. It is the patience with the unborn Dharma itself. This great concentration is complete with all dharmas: first, it is the authentic teaching, not a different realization; second, it is perfect and corresponding, not an empty realization; third, it is ultimate, not a different realization; fourth, it is beneficial and aids those below, a realization of giving benefit; fifth, the Way proceeds by naturalness, a realization of intrinsic suchness; sixth, it is definitive in meaning, not a one-sided realization. Therefore it can be called realization.

Yet even so, this still involves the path of conceptual understanding and discrimination. It is like someone twisting empty space into thread and wanting to accomplish something with it—only wasting their spirit. If one is a true patch-robed monk with the eye at the back of the head opened, one will naturally know.

Don't you see?

A single word from you is a decisive expression. If you can truly grasp it here, the gate of total retention opens, and you directly see the Tathāgata's original face. Hundreds of thousands of samādhis and countless wonderful meanings all enter from here. That is why Sudhana, when he visited the Boy Who Excels in All Arts, said: "I constantly chant these letters, and thereby enter the gate of Prajñāpāramitā." From this we know that the one-word Dharma gate cannot be fully written even with an ocean of ink. If you do not understand this, then even if your eloquence rivals flying flames and pours forth like a rushing river, you will instead be swept away by words and language with no end in sight. Days come and months go; brush and ink rise like clouds. As years pass and time grows long, your compiled volumes pile up like mountains. Searching your heart, you heave long sighs of disappointment and dejection. The Dharma gate of the mind-ground is far, far away. The ancient virtuous ones said: "In learning the Way, one must first have a basis for awakening—like one who has raced a speedy dragon boat. Though the old pavilion and idle fields remain, only after winning once does one finally rest." By this we infer that one must have genuine insight and awakening before it is possible. Therefore it is said: "The very first phrase—only those on the same path know it."

A person of true learning, free from striving and doing, is an idle sage.

The one who has mastered the ultimate study has mastered the study of the world beyond, the study of the unconditioned. The study of the world is not the study of renunciation. The study of the unconditioned is not the conditioned study of the Small Vehicle, but entering into the unconditioned study of the Great Vehicle. The conditioned practice of the Small Vehicle is not ultimate. The bodhisattva who studies prajna merges with the Dharma. In regard to all dharmas, one should dwell nowhere; the mind is unobstructed and attains great freedom. Acting yet not acting, doing yet not doing—thus it is called "mastering the ultimate study, the unconditioned." A person of leisurely ease is one who accords with the Path and is not bound by the toils of defilement; therefore it is called "leisurely ease." It is truly because all sentient beings, from beginningless time until today, have turned away from awakening and joined with dust, and moment after moment, in the face of all objects before them, follow after the dusts without a moment's pause. How could they escape? Those who study the Path can transform the myriad things and are not transformed by the myriad things. Though before their eyes are a thousand differences, the mind is at leisure in a single state. By the water and beneath the trees, they nurture the sacred embryo. Watching the moonlight, they roam freely; listening to the sound of the spring, they are at ease. Thus it is said: "One who has mastered the ultimate study, the unconditioned, is a person of leisurely ease."

Neither removing delusions nor seeking truth.

What is called "delusion" is simply false, mistaken thinking. It is because all sentient beings, throughout the twelve periods of the day, have a mind that grasps at conditions without a moment's break. Their minds are like a turtle that thinks of water, their thoughts like a horse that faces the wind—never resting for an instant. That is why they are called ordinary beings. What is called "true" is the one true Buddha-nature. Now this practitioner is in accord with the Dharma and does not fall into either the ordinary or the noble path—this also distinguishes him from the Two Vehicles. Those of the Small Vehicle are weary of and turn away from birth and death in the world, and delight in seeking Nirvana beyond the realms. The bodhisattva who studies Prajna gathers all dharmas back into himself. Hence it is said: "Not eliminating delusion, not seeking the true." Therefore Master Xiushan said: "One who possesses in full the dharmas of an ordinary being—an ordinary being does not know it. One who possesses in full the dharmas of a noble one—a noble one does not understand it. If a noble one understood it, he would be an ordinary being. If an ordinary being knew it, he would be a noble one." These two sayings are one principle with two meanings. The tradition says: "If you can discern this, you will surely find a point of entry into the Buddha-Dharma. If you cannot discern it, do not claim you have no doubt."

Ignorance's true nature is itself the Buddha-nature.

Ignorance means the absence of the great illuminating wisdom of prajna. Buddha-nature is precisely the ultimate, pure, awakened nature. From beginningless time, beings have lived and died in vain, unable to escape—all because of ignorance, which keeps them turning in the cycle of birth and death. Thus we know that ignorance is the root of affliction. It produces the fruit of eighty-four thousand defilements and stands as the first of the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination. Afflictions as numerous as the sands of the Ganges arise from it; eons of cyclical existence never cease because of it. Even after attaining the formless absorption of Neither-Perception-nor-Non-Perception, one may still fall to rebirth as a raccoon dog; within the pit of ignorance, one still performs deluded practices. The ancient masters said: swift as lightning, fierce as a wild wind. A defilement arises in an instant, faster than rushing torrents of water. The five desires take shape in a flash, more quickly than a spinning wheel. Thus the four demons are formed and the ten fetters spur one on—all are the work of ignorance. Those who have not understood mistake it for something real. Now this practitioner, by the light of prajna wisdom, sees through ignorance and thereby clearly beholds Buddha-nature. Therefore it is said: the true nature of ignorance is itself Buddha-nature.

This illusory, empty body is itself the Dharma body.

Once you have understood that ignorance itself is the Buddha-nature, you should know that this illusory body is itself the Dharma-body. As for what is called the Dharma-body: in the teachings there is the Dharma-body of five aspects. First, precepts; second, concentration; third, wisdom; fourth, liberation; fifth, the knowledge and vision of liberation. The commentary says: wisdom merges with the true realm, and making the Dharma its entirety is what constitutes the body, and so it is called the Dharma-body. Dharma means "that which upholds and guides"; body means "that which accumulates." This Dharma-body can uphold and give rise to all dharmas, and can universally encompass all dharmas. A person who comprehends the Dharma understands that this illusory body, born of the conditions of father and mother, is itself the vajra body that is eternal, indestructible, and unchanging. Therefore it is said: this illusory, empty body is itself the Dharma-body.

The Dharma-body, once awakened to, is found to be without a single thing. The original source, one's own nature, is the naturally perfect Buddha.

With the wisdom of prajñā, one contemplates the Five Aggregates as all empty. There is not a single thing, no boundaries or dimensions, no name or label — one is forced to call it the Dharmakāya. Long ago, when Master Fu of Taiyuan was an expounder of the Dharma, he was lecturing on the Vimalakīrti Sūtra and had reached the meaning of the Dharmakāya. A practitioner of the Way was sitting below in the audience and asked the expounder, "Just now you were explaining that this is the Dharmakāya of all Buddhas — which one, then, is the expounder's own Dharmakāya?" The expounder said, "Can the Dharmakāya possibly be two?" The practitioner said, "As when someone talks about food — it never relieves hunger. To fathom the source of mind, one takes awakening as the standard." The Master said, "This is all I can say about the meaning of the Dharmakāya. Now please, practitioner, you explain it for me." The practitioner said, "Suspend your lectures for three or five days, and sit quietly in an empty room to personally realize the Dharmakāya." The Master followed exactly what he said. He put aside all entanglements, sat upright and still in a quiet room. One morning he suddenly heard the sound of drums and horns, and in a flash he had a great awakening. He said, "Only now do I know that originally there is nothing at all. I nearly wasted this whole life for nothing." Hence it is said: "The Dharmakāya, once awakened to, is not a single thing." As for "the original self-nature, the innate Buddha" — if one now returns to the root and goes back to the source, without resorting to cultivation or realization, only then does one know that one was originally already Buddha. Walking, standing, sitting, lying down, whatever the eyes meet and whatever conditions arise — each thing reveals it, each dharma displays it in full; none of it is other than Buddha-work. Therefore Fadeng said: "Who believes in the innate Buddha? Rising compassion in myriad forms. Smartweed blooms on the ancient bank; a white egret stands on the sandbar. Dew drips where the courtyard grass grows; clouds withdraw and the stream-moon is cold. Wherever each thing reveals it, look carefully, look well."

The five aggregates are like drifting clouds, appearing and vanishing in the sky of Emptiness. The three poisons are like water bubbles, rising and bursting in illusion.

Students of the Dharma understand that the Five Aggregates are unreal, like floating clouds. They know that the Three Poisons are illusory, like bubbles on water. The Five Aggregates are: first, form; second, sensation; third, perception; fourth, mental formations; fifth, consciousness. Form means obstruction. Sensation means receiving and taking in. Perception means conceiving and imagining. Mental formations mean constant change and flow. Consciousness means distinguishing and knowing. Understanding the Five Aggregates is the emptiness of the self. The Three Poisons are: first, greed; second, hatred; third, delusion. When facing pleasant circumstances, greed arises. When facing unpleasant circumstances, hatred arises. Because of lacking wisdom, accepting these is delusion. Understanding this is the emptiness of phenomena. Since the Five Aggregates are like floating clouds in the vast sky, coming and going emptily, the Three Poisons are like bubbles on water, appearing and disappearing without substance. Luopu said: People only know that bubbles come out of the water; who knows that water itself is also born from bubbles? Provisionally, bubbles and water are compared to this body of ours. The Five Aggregates are falsely assembled and given a provisional name. When one understands that the aggregates are empty and bubbles are unreal, only then can one clearly see the original truth. If one has not understood this, then one drifts vainly in the ocean of birth and death.

Realizing the true nature of reality, with no self and no dharmas, in a single instant the karma of the Avici Hell is extinguished.

The markless mark is therefore called true reality. Realizing this true reality is precisely the twofold emptiness of self and dharmas. In a single kṣaṇa—the briefest instant—one can extinguish the grave offenses of many kalpas.

As for what is meant by "kṣaṇa": it is like the instant a strong man takes to snap a lotus fiber. Not counting the preparation, but only the moment of the snap—this is called a kṣaṇa. Within a single kṣaṇa there are nine hundred arising-and-ceasing moments, and it is even faster than that.

As for what is meant by "Avīci": this is Sanskrit, and in Chinese it means "interminable." It is the most severely suffering hell, located below the seven golden mountains. The so-called *huhu, naohuo, huohuo, po* and so on refer to the eight cold hells and eight hot hells. Among all the hells, it is the most severe and most painful, and there is no interruption in the suffering endured there.

Now, when one is in accord with the Dharma, all marks of good and evil naturally become tranquil and extinct. The ancient masters said: "If I myself cannot even be obtained, how much less can what is not I be obtained?" Therefore it is said that in a single kṣaṇa one extinguishes the karma of Avīci.

(Translator's note: The Sanskrit "kṣaṇa" means an extremely brief instant. "Avīci" (Chinese: 無間, "interminable") is the hell of uninterrupted suffering, so named because the pain there never pauses. The phrase "I and what is not I" refers to the emptiness of self and dharmas.)

If you deceive living beings with false speech, you bring upon yourself the karmic retribution of a long, rough tongue for as many kalpas as there are grains of sand in the Ganges.

This is the vow made by Yongjia through the power of great compassion. Thus we know that the kindness of the sages who came before is profound and hard to repay. Out of deep concern that beings in the age of decline would have shallow roots of faith and lose their resolve for the Path within this teaching, he made this solemn vow: "If I speak falsely to deceive you, may I myself fall into the mud-pit hell, have my tongue pulled out and plowed through, and endure its extreme suffering—not merely for one kalpa, but for kalpas as numerous as dust and sand."

As for the word "kalpa," in Sanskrit the full term should be "kalpa"; it is translated here as "span of time." There are many kinds of kalpas—the mustard-seed kalpa, the dust-mote kalpa, the rubbing-stone kalpa, and so on—as recorded in detail in the sutras and treatises. Here, rather than speaking of names or titles, he speaks of "dust and sand" simply to convey the vast number of kalpas.

The Great Master's teaching of the Dharma-gate he personally realized was intended to lead all beings to see their own nature and become Buddhas. How could there be any falsehood in it? He only feared that people would not believe it fully enough.

Suddenly awakened and clearly understood: the Tathāgata's Chan, the Six Perfections and all practices are complete within the essence.

Since it is not known in gradual stages, it is called "sudden awakening." "Tathāgata Chan" is used here to distinguish it from four other types of dhyāna: first, the Consciousness-Only dhyāna of the bodhisattvas; second, the one-sided Emptiness dhyāna of the śrāvakas; third, the dhyāna of cause and effect for humans and celestial beings; and fourth, the dhyāna of mistaken views held by non-Buddhists. This gate of concentration is precisely the moment when the World-Honored One at the Vulture Peak assembly gazed at Mahākāśyapa with his blue lotus eyes. Mahākāśyapa smiled, and the Buddha said, "I have the treasury of the correct Dharma eye, which I entrust to Mahākāśyapa." Mahākāśyapa passed it to Ānanda, Ānanda passed it to Śāṇakavāsa, and so on through the twenty-eight patriarchs until Bodhidharma came from the West to the lands of the East. It was transmitted onward to the Sixth Patriarch at Caoxi. After that, lamp continued to lamp and flame to flame, patriarch to patriarch in unbroken line, right down to the present day, handed on from hand to hand. Now tell me—is there something handed on, or is there nothing handed on? A true monk of this lineage knows for himself where it lands.

Altogether this is called the Six Perfections; individually it is called the ten thousand practices. These practices of the path are all contained within a single thought and are inherently complete from the start. What are the Six Perfections? They are generosity, moral discipline, patience, diligence, meditation, and wisdom. Why are they all called "perfections"? Because each has its own opposing factor to overcome, so they are called perfections. Generosity overcomes stinginess and greed; moral discipline overcomes violation and transgression; patience overcomes anger and hatred; diligence overcomes laziness; meditation overcomes dullness and distraction; wisdom overcomes delusion. That is why they are called the Six Perfections. This gate of perfections is not the partial practice of the Six Perfections by followers of the lesser vehicles, nor the mixed practice of the Six Perfections by bodhisattvas on the provisional stages. Rather, it is the perfect practice of the Six Perfections within a single thought. That is why it is called "perfect within the essence itself."

In the dream, the six realms are clearly there. Upon awakening, even the great thousandfold world is utterly empty.

When deluded, the three realms appear to exist; when awakened, the ten directions are empty. Therefore it is said: "In the dream, the six realms are clearly there; after awakening, all is empty—there is no great chiliocosm."

The six realms are: first, the realm of gods; second, the realm of humans; third, the realm of asuras; fourth, the realm of hungry ghosts; fifth, the realm of animals; sixth, the realm of hells.

Why are they all called "realms"? Because all sentient beings, through a single deluded thought, wander in delusion, their karmic consciousness vast and unclear, and each is drawn by the force of their own karma into one of the six paths. It is not brought about by anyone else. An ancient virtuous one said: "The waters of greed, hatred, and craving nourish the sprouts of suffering; one follows dust endlessly and does not know to return to the source."

The phrase "all is empty" means that none of it has any true meaning. "There is no great chiliocosm" refers to the realm transformed by the sixteen-foot golden body. Now, in accordance with prajñā, one can empty not only the beings of the six realms, but even the realm transformed by the three thousand great chiliocosms has no true meaning either. Therefore it is said: "After awakening, all is empty—there is no great chiliocosm."

There is no guilt or merit, no loss or gain. In the nature of tranquil cessation, do not seek.

If a single thought resonates [with the truth], then there are no marks of guilt or merit, loss or gain. The ancient masters said: "If a person brings forth the mind that returns to the source, the ten directions of worlds all dissolve away — how much more so guilt and merit!" Having penetrated the emptiness of the nature of all dharmas, within the nature of still cessation there are no marks of self, person, sentient being, or life span. Resonating with the markless Dharma-gate of Prajñā, one does not dwell in verbal explanation, debate, or questioning. Therefore it is said: no guilt or merit, no loss or gain — within the nature of still cessation, do not seek after it.

For so long, the dusty mirror had never been polished. Today, it clearly must be split open and analyzed.

A single spark of spiritual awareness is, in its original nature, no different from the ten-direction Buddhas. It is only because all sentient beings, from beginningless kalpas past, have never encountered a teacher to bring forth the revelation of their inherent nature. This is like a mirror covered in dust, long clouded and dimmed, unable to reflect anything. Now that you have met a teacher who has revealed your own true seeing and wiped away the dust and grime, the original radiance suddenly shines through, illuminating heaven and earth. Therefore the ancient virtuous one said: The mind's light surges with brilliance, utterly transcending the senses and their objects. The essence is revealed as true and constant, not confined to words. Mind-nature is undefiled and complete from the very beginning. Simply by detaching from false conditions, one is a Buddha in suchness.

Who is without thought? Who is without birth? If truly there is no birth, then there is no non-birth.

The first line picks up the matter of sentient beings; the second line reveals the Dharma. "Who is without thought? Who is without birth?" means: which person is without thought, and which person is without birth? People's minds give rise to thoughts, and these arising and ceasing thoughts never pause. These arising-and-ceasing minds are like a mass of myrobalan fruits—impossible to count. Moment after moment there is no rest, like the flame of a lamp, like a trickling stream. When walking, the mind reaches out to the ten directions; when sitting, the mind grasps at the three times. Therefore it says, "Who is without thought? Who is without birth?" As for "if truly without birth, then nothing is not born"—if one truly understands the principle of non-birth, then one is not defiled by any of the marks of arising of all dharmas, and there is no hindrance to the arising of the ten thousand dharmas. Master Xiushan said: "The ten thousand dharmas have no mark of birth; once a year, spring comes again." Therefore it says, "If truly without birth, then nothing is not born."

Call forth the mechanical wooden man and ask him: Seeking Buddhahood by applying effort—when will it ever be achieved?

To make this clearer, another analogy is given so that it is easy to understand. Above, because the text said that after awakening, emptiness is empty and there is no great thousandfold world, no sin or merit, no loss or gain, and in the nature of still cessation one should not seek — Yongjia was deeply concerned that later people might follow the words and give rise to a literal understanding, falling into the view of annihilation. Therefore he specifically revised and corrected this point. A bodhisattva who studies Prajna must meet a good teacher to clarify their own view, and within thoughts reach the thought-free, and within arising and ceasing awaken to the unarisen and unceasing. If someone claims that simply having no thoughts and no arising altogether is the acceptance of the non-arising of dharmas, then for example a mechanical wooden man also has no mind or thoughts; to hope to attain Buddhahood in that way would be utterly impossible. Therefore it says, "when will it ever be achieved?" "When will it ever" is a Jiangsu-Zhejiang dialect expression, meaning "when could it possibly be achieved?"

Let go of the four great elements; do not grasp at them. Within the nature of still Cessation of Suffering, freely take your drink.

The Four Great Elements are earth, water, fire, and wind. Since beginningless time, we have cast off one body and received another, constantly bound and confined by the four great elements, unable to be free. Now, understanding that the four great elements are empty in nature, one is at ease with all dharmas—entirely water when in water, entirely fire when in fire, entirely earth when on earth. Therefore, Master Xiushan said: "The element earth does not exclude water, fire, or wind; as it is with one element, so it is with all four. The four great elements are never not all-pervading, yet though all-pervading, they have never been fused into one. They are like a thousand lamps sharing a single room, or like ten thousand reflections in a single mirror. The four great elements differ in name but have no fourfold nature; the realms, sense-fields, faculties, objects, and consciousnesses do not interconnect." If one understands this meaning, it is said: "Release the four great elements."

As for the words "do not grasp": since one has understood that the four great elements are empty in nature, where could one possibly grasp? Therefore it is said, "Do not grasp."

"Within the nature of quiescent cessation, eat and drink as it comes": if one understands that the four great elements are fundamentally empty and the five aggregates are non-existent, then one may freely drift and sink as one pleases, eating and drinking according to conditions. Therefore Beidu said: "Coarse food, eat; fine food, eat. Do not look at things from the perspective of ordinary beings. There is no coarse, no fine. Above, the Land of Fragrance has no root or stem." Therefore it is said: "Within the nature of quiescent cessation, eat and drink as it comes."

All conditioned phenomena are impermanent, all is Emptiness — this itself is the Tathagata's great perfect Enlightenment.

Not only are the characteristics of the four great elements inherently empty—all that is made and done, all formations, are entirely empty and still. When we speak of "all formations," it is not just one kind of formation; it extends to countless varieties of practices and activities, all of which are originally empty and still. Therefore the sutra says: "This body of mine is a combination of the four great elements. Hair, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones, marrow, and the various bodily substances—all return to earth. Saliva, tears, pus, blood, fluids, mucus, phlegm, tears, vital essence, and urine and feces—all return to water. Warmth returns to fire. Movement returns to wind. When the four great elements each separate, where will this illusory body be?" Therefore it is said: "All formations are impermanent, all is empty." This is precisely the Tathāgata's great perfect enlightenment. Once one understands that all dharmas are originally empty and still, one is in accord with the nature of great perfect enlightenment. Yet all sentient beings use it daily without knowing it. Therefore Chancellor Pei said: "To be perfectly enlightened all day long yet never once be perfectly enlightened—this is the ordinary person. To wish to realize perfect enlightenment but not yet fully realize it—this is the bodhisattva. To be fully endowed with perfect enlightenment and to abide in and sustain it—this is the Tathāgata." Therefore it is said: "This is precisely the Tathāgata's great perfect enlightenment."

A definitive teaching that represents the true Sangha. Some people refuse to accept this and insist on challenging it according to their own inclinations.

Carrying the sacred womb within, one's words come out extraordinary, resolute and free of hesitation—this is why it is called "definitive teaching." Those who study Prajñā recognize the mind and penetrate the root; ten thousand cares are all forgotten. Majestic and commanding, they walk alone through the three realms. They serve as leaders of the Dharma-gate and teachers of humans and gods—this is why it is called "representing the true Saṅgha." If there is someone who refuses to accept this and challenges it according to their own feelings—suppose someone does not accept the supreme wondrous Dharma that is my own store, and questions me with all kinds of worldly cleverness—then I simply let that person challenge me freely. The ancient worthies said: "Even if you turned all ten directions of the world into a single greeting and questioned me, it would not take so much as a snap of the old monk's fingers. I respond equally to the high and the low, before and after without discrepancy—I only fear that your faith does not reach far enough."

Cutting straight to the root — this is what the Buddhas have sealed and confirmed. Plucking leaves and hunting down branches — that I cannot do.

Directly entering the Buddha's knowledge and vision in one abrupt leap, without following the gradual sequence of the teachings — this is called "direct and abrupt." As an ancient master said: "This one matter alone — if it were a matter of words, wouldn't the Three Vehicles and the twelve divisions of the canon be speech? Why then is it said to be 'a special transmission outside the teachings'? Only this one Dharma directly reveals the mind. One should seek its root and not pursue its branches." Thus it is called "cutting straight to the root."

"Sealed by the Buddha": the Dharma gates of all Buddhas are mutually certified, sealed by the single seal. Arising and ceasing occur simultaneously, with no before or after — therefore it is called the "seal."

"I cannot pluck leaves and search for branches": the study of names and forms is like plucking leaves — the counting of Dharma gates has no end. One merely exhausts oneself in vain and ultimately gains nothing. Therefore it is said, "I cannot."

The mani jewel goes unrecognized by people, yet it is truly received within the Tathagata's storehouse.

The Sanskrit word "mani" means "wish-fulfilling jewel." Its nature is light and soft, pure and clean, in accord with the Dharma, and it possesses all virtues. This one jewel alone can be used to illustrate Buddha-nature.

Everyone has this jewel, yet why can they not enjoy its use? Because it is covered by the dust and defilement of ignorance and cannot reveal itself. Therefore it is said, "People do not recognize it."

"Within the Tathāgata store, one personally obtains it": this wish-fulfilling jewel is not something that exists in the world. It is personally obtained within the Tathāgata's secret store. As for what is called the Tathāgata store, there is the Tathāgata store in the midst of affliction, and there is the Tathāgata store freed from affliction. Sentient beings are constantly covered by the afflictions of the three poisons and the five aggregates; though they possess this treasure store, they cannot enjoy its use. This is called the Tathāgata store in the midst of affliction. When the Buddhas' three virtues are pure and bright, utterly clear and complete, encompassing all the various virtues of the Dharma realm, this is called the Tathāgata store freed from affliction.

Let us set aside the "store" for now. What then is the jewel? Have you not seen how a monk asked Nanquan: "'The wish-fulfilling jewel—people do not recognize it; within the Tathāgata store, one personally obtains it.' What is the store?" The master said, "This old teacher's coming and going with you—that is the store." The monk asked, "What is the jewel?" The master then called to the monk, "Master! Patriarch!" The monk responded. The master said, "Go. You do not understand my meaning. Go." Do not say this monk failed to penetrate it. Even if he had penetrated it, I would still know that you are groping and have not yet touched it.

The six wondrous functions: empty yet not empty. A single perfect radiance: form yet not form.

This mani jewel has six openings, which represent the six sense faculties. When one is deluded, they become the six thieves that plunder the treasure of one's own house—all the immeasurable merit and Dharma-wealth one possesses is stolen by these six thieves. But if one awakens to them, they are called the six wondrous functions. In the eyes, they see; in the ears, they hear; in the mouth, they speak; in the feet, they run and move—their function is inexhaustible.

"Neither empty nor not empty": this wondrous function cannot be seen as either existing or not existing. Therefore it is said: if you call it existent, it has no shape or form; if you call it nonexistent, the sages rely on it for their spiritual power. Thus it is called "neither empty nor not empty."

"A single round light, form yet not form": this precious jewel, from beginningless time, has shone brilliantly with spiritual clarity, illuminating the ten directions. Thus we know that true form is formless, yet it manifests the vast myriad phenomena. The ancient masters said: "The green, green bamboo—all of it is true suchness; the dense, dense yellow flowers—none of it is anything but prajna." Therefore it is called "a single round light, form yet not form."

(phrasing is reversed to convey the meaning)

Purify the five eyes. Attain the five powers. Only through direct realization can one know this; it is difficult to fathom.

All sutras speak of the five roots and the five powers. Now, when the text here speaks of the five eyes and the five powers, we should note that among the sutras and treatises, this is found only in the Vimalakīrti Sutra. Let us explain it according to the text. The so-called five eyes are: first, the heavenly eye; second, the fleshly eye; third, the wisdom eye; fourth, the Dharma eye; fifth, the Buddha eye. One who possesses all five eyes is a Tathāgata, and thereby brings the five powers into presence. First, the power of faith; second, the power of effort; third, the power of mindfulness; fourth, the power of concentration; fifth, the power of wisdom. Therefore it says, "Purifying the five eyes and attaining the five powers." As for "This can only be known through direct realization and is hard to fathom": this Dharma gate of the mind-ground must be personally realized before it can be known. It is like a person drinking water—whether it is cold or warm, only they know. It cannot be measured or fathomed by ordinary thought. The sutra says: "If one tries to fathom the Tathāgata's realm of perfect enlightenment with a thinking mind, it is like taking a firefly's glow to burn Mount Sumeru. Even after kalpas as numerous as dust motes, it could never set it alight." Therefore it says, "This can only be known through direct realization and is hard to fathom."

Seeing a shape in a mirror is no hard thing; snatching the moon from water—how could you ever grasp it?

A reflection in a mirror can be seen, but the moon in the water cannot be grasped. This is simply because people turn away from their own awakened nature, mistake its reflected images for reality, and so wander through birth and death, rising and sinking without end. Deeply attached to the objects before them, they cannot escape. Thus the Sutra of the Wise and the Foolish says: For example, on a clear night a troop of monkeys, beside a tree by a well, suddenly saw the reflection of the moon. They immediately climbed down into the well one after another to grab the moon, but what they hoped to obtain was ultimately impossible. In just the same way, all sentient beings follow after external conditions; their wish to return to their original source is likewise like this. Therefore it is said: Grasping at the moon in the water—how could one ever seize it?

Always walking alone, always wandering alone.

Those who have penetrated the Dharma do not take the myriad dharmas as companions. They transcend the three realms and walk alone through the great expanse. Therefore it is said, "Always walking alone." Those who have not yet understood have, for countless kalpas, constantly set themselves against the objects of the senses. Having lost their way regarding the nature of awareness, they cling deeply to sensory attachments. Moment after moment, they cannot let go. Therefore the sutra says: the eye faculty receives forms, the ear distinguishes sounds, the nose smells fragrances, the tongue tastes flavors; the body faculty greedily receives all contacts, and the mind faculty distinguishes all dharmas. How could such a one cut off the preceding and following and walk alone, step alone?

Those who have understood journey together on the path to Nirvana.

A person of attainment is someone who has attained the Dharma. Nirvana means the unarisen and unceasing. Nirvana is the unarisen; nirvana is the unceasing — that is, the path of no-arising. The sutra says: "The Bhagavats of the ten directions share one road, the gate of nirvana." This one road is taught only for those who understand the mind, reach the root, and possess the seed-nature of the Great Vehicle — only they can tread step by step up the Buddha's stairway and journey along it together. You must know that the three fruits are vast and boundless, and the six realms are a vague immensity; all of them are people who have lost the road. That is why a thousand sages appeared in the world for one great matter — to urge all of you to walk this road together. Yet people will not consent to it. The ancient worthy said: "Thorns grow on the road to heaven; before the gate of hell it is slick as moss." One may well say that few ever tread it.

His spirit is attuned to the ancient way, his manner pure, his bearing naturally lofty. His face is gaunt, his bones are firm, and no one pays him any heed.

Those who have not yet understood deeply cling to worldly attachments. Their tastes are superficial and glamorous, their spirits muddled and confused. Losing their inner grounding, their every movement is not that of a person on the Path. A person of the Path is not stained by worldly attachments; their bearing is restrained and plain, their spirit clear and bright, their manner of the Path lofty in appearance. Thus it is said: "Restrained in bearing, clear in spirit—their manner is naturally lofty."

As for "haggard in appearance, firm as bone, and people pay no attention": a great practitioner, though their form may be withered and worn, has a mind free of greed and desire, and something within that governs them—firm as metal and stone, rarely recognized by others. People of Jambudvīpa deeply cling to appearances and turn through birth and death without any end, never awakening. Therefore sages take the form of poor scholars and hide within the world, beyond reckoning. Thus we know: a genuine person of the Path inwardly holds prajñā and does not bother with ornate display. Their manner is clear and ancient; few among people recognize them. Hence it is said: "Haggard in appearance, firm as bone, and people pay no attention."

A poor monk may say he is destitute, but though his body is poor, the Path to Cessation is not poor.

There are those on the Path who do not adorn themselves with outer trappings, and so they are called poor. The ancient virtuous ones said: “Those who study the Path and discipline their conduct—three things are always insufficient.” This must be what is meant. “Disciple of Śākya” is a title received from the Buddha. In full, it should be “of the Śākya clan,” which is one of the five surnames. When our Buddha was a prince in the causal stage, the king had four sons who were all banished by the king. These four princes won people over by their virtue and thereby became a powerful state. The father king, regretting and remembering them, sent envoys to summon them back. The four princes declined and did not return. The father king sighed and said, “My sons are Śākya,” which in Chinese means “able to be benevolent.” Now, rather than saying “Śākya,” the text says “Śāk” as an abbreviation. “Son” is a general term for a male person, and so they are called “disciples of Śākya.” As for saying with the mouth that one is poor: though one may say with the mouth that one is poor, inwardly one contains the sacred Dharma, and so in truth one is not poor. “In truth” means words that are genuine and real. “Poor in body” means lacking worldly wealth, the seven treasures, and so on. “Not poor in the Path” means that if one speaks of that Path, then its merits are as numerous as the sands of the Ganges and its Dharma-wealth is limitless and inexhaustible in use. Though one may not have even enough ground to plant an awl, in truth one is worth as much as the whole Sahā world. Therefore it is said, “In truth, one is poor in body but not poor in the Path.” This is made clear in the following text.

When poor, the body is always wrapped in coarse hempen cloth. On the Path, the mind holds a priceless treasure.

Poverty means the body lacks fine adornments—this is called bodily poverty. But the Path is worthy of honor and reverence; truly, it is not poverty. The ancient masters said: "When the robe is torn, patch it again and again; when provisions run out, provide for them little by little." That is why Mahakashyapa wore a robe made of discarded rags, and the Buddha praised it as the supreme garment. Eating simply and dressing frugally—this is being content. As for the Path, "the mind stores a priceless treasure": the world's seven treasures—gold, silver, lapis lazuli, coral, agate, pearls, and carnelian—all have a price. Only the mind-treasure is priceless. Bodhidharma said: "Among all dharmas, the dharma of mind is supreme; among all treasures, the treasure of mind is supreme." This treasure has no form; unless one has the eye of the Path, it is hard to see at all. Therefore it is called "storing a priceless treasure."

The priceless treasure is inexhaustible in its use. Benefiting beings and responding to circumstances, it is never stingy.

Again, "priceless treasure" clarifies that this jewel is truly not a treasure of the world. "Its use is inexhaustible": treasures of the world are all limited; their use always comes to an end. Even if one's lifespan matched Peng Zu's(a man who lived eight hundred years) and one's wealth rivaled Shi Chong's(a man of unmatched wealth and nobility), that would be glory for only one lifetime. Only this treasure of the mind is inexhaustible. Up to the Buddhas of the ten directions: throughout immeasurable kalpas, its enjoyment does not run out. The twenty-eight patriarchs of the Western Heavens did not use it up. The six patriarchs of the Tang land did not use it up. The old monks under heaven did not use it up. Even now, this mountain monk has not used it up. "Benefiting beings and responding to conditions, never stingy": at the crossroads, openly and squarely it is handed over—how could there ever be stinginess or regret? It is simply that people of the time are unwilling to accept it. An ancient worthy said: "The black dragon's pearl is not something the black dragon begrudges; it is simply that people of the time do not know how to seek it."

The three bodies and four wisdoms are perfected within the essence; the eight liberations and six spiritual powers are sealed in the mind-ground.

The Three Bodies, Four Wisdoms, Eight Liberations, and Six Supernatural Powers are named for the functions of enlightened nature. "Ground" means that which can produce; "seal" means that which issues commands. The Three Bodies are the Dharma Body, the Reward Body, and the Transformation Body. The Four Wisdoms are the Great Perfect Mirror Wisdom, the Wisdom of Equality, the Wisdom of Marvelous Observation, and the Wisdom of Accomplishing What Must Be Done. The Eight Liberations are: first, liberation through inward contemplation of form; second, liberation through outward contemplation of form; third, liberation through dwelling in purity; fourth, liberation through the sphere of infinite space; fifth, liberation through the sphere of infinite consciousness; sixth, liberation through the sphere of nothingness; seventh, liberation through the sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception; eighth, liberation through the sphere of ultimate cessation. These eight liberations are the liberation of the eight consciousnesses. The eight consciousnesses are: eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind as the first six consciousnesses; the seventh, the transmitting consciousness; and the eighth, ālaya, that is, the storehouse consciousness. Thus the eight consciousnesses are transformed into the four wisdoms, and the four wisdoms are gathered into the three bodies. Now, as to transforming the eight consciousnesses into the four wisdoms: the first five consciousnesses of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body are transformed into the Wisdom of Accomplishing What Must Be Done. The sixth, the mind consciousness, is transformed into the Wisdom of Marvelous Observation. The seventh, the transmitting consciousness, manas, is transformed into the Wisdom of Equality. The eighth, the storehouse consciousness, ālaya, is transformed into the Great Perfect Mirror Wisdom. As to gathering the four wisdoms into the three bodies: the Wisdom of Accomplishing What Must Be Done and the Wisdom of Marvelous Observation are the Transformation Body; the Wisdom of Equality is the Reward Body; the Great Perfect Mirror Wisdom is the Dharma Body. These three bodies are just one body. Do you want to know this one body? Its head is round, symbolizing heaven; its feet are square, resembling earth. Its ancient countenance is rugged and imposing, with the bearing of a true man.

The superior seeker, once resolved, understands everything at once. Those of middling and lesser capacity hear much, yet mostly lack faith.

The supreme, wonderful Dharma can be truly understood only when heard by a person of superior capacity. Thus it is said: when a superior person decides, everything is understood at once. That is why, when superior people meet, a single glance is enough for the Way to be present. People of middling and inferior capacity only increase their learning. Therefore it is said: the more words there are, the farther one moves from the Way. Hence: those of middling and inferior capacity hear much but mostly do not believe. This being so, all the spoken teachings of the three teachings are like this. A Mahayana bodhisattva, upon hearing once, understands a thousand things and attains the great retention. Followers of the Small Vehicle are unable to bear this Dharma. Laozi said: When a superior person hears the Way, he diligently practices it. When a middling person hears the Way, he seems to keep it and seems to lose it. When an inferior person hears the Way, he laughs out loud at it. If he did not laugh, it would not be worthy of being the Way. The tradition says: When one can speak with someone, speak with them; when one cannot speak with someone, do not speak with them. To be able to speak with someone yet not speak is to lose the person. To be unable to speak with someone yet still speak is to lose the words. Therefore Hanshan's poem says: The superior person's mind is sharp and keen; hearing once, he immediately knows the wonder. The middling person's mind is clear and pure; examining carefully, he says it is most essential. The inferior person is dull, dark, and foolish; his thick hide is hardest to split. Only when his blood streams over his head does he finally know he destroys himself. Look at the open-eyed thief, causing a crowd to gather in the bustling market. His corpse is thrown away like dust. At that time, to whom can he speak? A true man, a great hero, cuts clean through with a single stroke. With a human face but the heart of a beast, when will his contriving ever cease? The former sages stirred and urged people like this. Those who have good roots will surely feel something when they hear it.

But taking off the soiled garment within one's own breast— who would boast of Diligence to others?

The soiled garment is precisely ignorance and affliction. "Garment" means that which covers over. "Soiled" means dust and grime. "Dust" means that which defiles and stains. This ignorance can cover over the pure substance of the Dharma and can defile the subtle, wondrous nature of awakening. Hence it is likened to a soiled garment.

"Simply untying the soiled garment from within his own breast" illustrates that this matter concerning oneself cannot be done by anyone else. From the level of Equal Enlightenment downward, all are great beings in soiled garments.

One who has seen the nature hides and works in secret, no longer covered by the toils of dust and ignorance; hence it is said, "He unties the soiled garment."

An ancient worthy said: "Take off the greasy hat, strip away the stinking cloth shirt, swing your arms free and walk out of the thicket of thorns — then you attain great freedom."

Followers of the Small Vehicle single-mindedly seek after the marks of things. Though their bodies sit upon the Dharma seat, their minds revolve around the dust of phenomena — this is outwardly boasting of diligence. Master Bao said: "When people settle down at the hour of Hai, their bold and vigorous diligence turns into laziness." This is just what that means.

Let them slander; let them criticize. Trying to burn the sky only exhausts yourself.

To slander means to insult with words. To reject something as wrong means to criticize it. One who has seen their true nature remains at peace in every situation, favorable or adverse, throughout the twelve hours of the day. Their mind is not moved by the myriad circumstances. Even if others slander me, since I do not accept it, the abusive words return to the one who spoke them—this is what is meant by "you reap what you sow." It is like someone holding a torch trying to burn the sky: they only exhaust themselves and never succeed. Thus it is said, "Holding fire to burn the sky—only brings exhaustion to oneself."

When I heard it, it was like drinking sweet dew. Instantly I melted into the inconceivable.

When I hear words of slander, it is like drinking sweet dew. The mind becomes cool and refreshed, and no feverish affliction arises. People who have not yet understood, when they hear slanderous and divisive talk, give rise to affliction in their minds. It is like suddenly poking one spot, and fire flares up in three places at once, impossible to stop. An ancient virtuous one said: The seed of the flower of awakening is there, but no one plants it; the mind's fire burns daily without smoke. Only one who has seen their true nature, whatever words they hear—whether adverse or favorable—attains freedom of mind. Such a one enters the wondrous gate of inconceivable liberation. Therefore it is said: melting away and suddenly entering the inconceivable.

Seeing harsh words as a source of merit — such a person becomes a good spiritual friend to me.

Hearing harsh words without giving rise to hatred—this is precisely what enables one to accomplish the power of Concentration and Wisdom. One is no longer robbed of the family treasure by the six thieves; the wealth of Merit and Dharma grows from this onward. Thus one realizes that those who slander are in fact good spiritual friends to me. The text says "observing" rather than "hearing" harsh words because this is the mutual functioning of the six sense faculties. On the day our Buddha, the World-Honored One, attained Enlightenment, hosts of demons vied to attack him. The Tathagata, out of compassion for them, entered the Concentration of a Compassionate Heart. At that moment the demon hordes could do him no harm. This is the accomplishment of the adorned Merit of ten thousand virtues, the merit of Concentration and Wisdom.

They do not let insults and slander stir up feelings of enmity or closeness. How else could the power of non-arising compassion and patience be shown?

If not for the poisonous words of insult and slander that came my way from above, I would never have realized that the sounds of good and evil are both unobtainable. It is like the wind passing over the treetops: one merely hears the sound and does not give rise to distinctions between good and evil notes. Thus one gives rise to a mind that regards enemy and kin as equal. Because of this, one can accomplish the Four Immeasurable Minds—compassion, sympathetic joy, equanimity, and loving-kindness. Then, in whatever adverse or favorable circumstances one encounters, one remains calm and at ease with an equanimous mind, wholly unobstructed. Were it not so, how could I ever demonstrate the power of my Path of non-arising compassion and patience?

The teaching is understood, and the explanation is understood.

One who is thorough in the essence is thorough in the Dharma. The Dharma is not verbal expression, and verbal expression is not the Dharma. Yunmen said, "Strike one blow at the carp of the Eastern Sea, and the rain pours down like tipping basins." Tianyi said, "This mountain monk rides backward on the Buddha hall; all of you put your straw sandals on backward." Even Qingping's carrying of earth, Guizong's dragging of stones, Deshan's striking as soon as one enters the gate, Linji's shouting as soon as one enters the gate—if one has no awakened mind, how can one understand such displays of compassion as these? One must clearly penetrate the essential teaching, deeply reach the source, and directly understand the essence. This is not the same as the perfect or gradual teachings; therefore it is called thoroughness in the essence. Thoroughness in exposition is thoroughness in meaning. One is able to expound the twelve divisions of the scriptures, clearly understanding the characteristics of dharmas and their classifications one by one, without doubt or error; therefore it is called thoroughness in exposition. Now when it says that one is thorough in both the essence and exposition, this means being thoroughly versed in both Dharma and meaning. To possess both is exceedingly difficult, and such a person is rarely found. Later students of the Dharma gate do not understand its purport and dispute with one another over right and wrong. It is recorded: "In the Western Heavens they divided the river to drink; in this land, Chan and Vinaya oppose each other." Both fail to understand the two gates of Dharma and meaning. Guifeng said, "The scriptures are like the inked line; they settle what is crooked and what is straight. The inked line is not skill, but the skilled must rely on the inked line as their standard. The scriptures and treatises are not Chan, but those who practice Zen meditation must take the scriptures and treatises as their standard." An ancient worthy said, "People today look at the ancient teachings, yet inevitably there is clamor in their minds. If you wish to free your mind from clamor, you should look at the ancient teachings." It is recorded: "The scriptures are the Buddha's words; Chan is the Buddha's mind. The minds and mouths of all Buddhas are necessarily not at odds." The Great Master first studied the teachings and contemplations of Zhiyi of Tiantai, and afterward awakened and clarified his understanding. He then went to Caoxi to receive the seal of approval from the Sixth Patriarch. Thus he deeply understood this purport; therefore it is said that he was thorough in both essence and exposition.

Concentration and wisdom, perfect and radiant, do not abide in Emptiness.

In the cause, it is called calm abiding and insight; in the fruit, it is called concentration and wisdom. When concentration and wisdom are non-dual, this is called perfect clarity. This nature of perfect clarity is not the kind of fixation produced by the Small Vehicle, and therefore it is said to "not abide in emptiness." Indeed, since beginningless kalpas all sentient beings have been intoxicated by ignorance and afflictions, unable to escape birth and death—afflicted solely by the sickness of ignorance, dullness, and distraction. Therefore the sages established the two practices of calm abiding and insight to cure this: using calm abiding to stop distraction, so that distraction itself becomes stillness; using insight to illumine dullness, so that dullness itself becomes brightness. In this way they are transformed into the two dharmas of concentration and wisdom. When concentration and wisdom are non-dual, this is called perfect clarity—perfect clarity being one dharma. Within this one dharma, all the Buddhas' immeasurable merit, Dharma-wealth, and wondrous functions are inexhaustible; all are enjoyed within the ocean of the perfect clarity flower-treasury.

It is not only I who have now fully realized this: the essence of all Buddhas, countless as the sands of the Ganges, is altogether the same.

Zhenjue himself said: "It is not only I who have now realized the perfect and luminous Dharma-nature as described above; even the perfect and luminous enlightened essence of all Buddhas as numerous as the sands of the Ganges is entirely the same." Therefore the sutra says: "It is not only I who know this characteristic; the Buddhas of the ten directions are likewise." As for the phrase "as numerous as the sands of the Ganges," this is named by way of analogy. In India there is a river called the Ganges. This river is forty li wide, and within it there is sand. The sand is as fine as flour. When the World-Honored One taught the Dharma, he most often used the sand in this river to compare quantities. Here Yongjia is speaking in accordance with the sutra.

The lion's roar, the fearless teaching— when the hundred beasts hear it, their skulls split open.

The lion is king among beasts. When it lets out a single roar, the pack of foxes vanishes without a trace, and every other creature's skull splits with terror as they flee. This illustrates how, when a Great Vehicle Bodhisattva speaks the perfect and sudden Dharma, the palaces of demons shake—yet those of lesser capacity for the Small Vehicle cannot bear the great Dharma. Each gives rise to doubt and confusion, unable to awaken to understanding. That is why, at the Huayan assembly, they were like the deaf and the mute, unable to believe and accept it. Consider how Deshan would strike as soon as a student entered the gate, and Linji would shout as soon as a student entered the gate—how many could truly take it up and bear it?

The fragrant elephant rushed about and lost its majesty. Hearing this in stillness, devas and nagas rejoiced.

The fragrant elephant symbolizes those of the Small Vehicle—the fixed-nature hearers and solitary realizers—who cannot turn their minds toward the Great Vehicle. When they hear the perfect and sudden Great Vehicle teaching, they cannot truly believe it. This is why, in the Lotus Sutra, five thousand people rose from their seats, bowed to the Buddha, and departed. It is like the elephant king: though he possesses majesty and virtue, when he hears the lion's roar he loses his majesty and flees. Therefore it is said, "The fragrant elephant runs in panic and loses its majesty."

"The devas and dragons listen in silence and give rise to joy" means that when the deva kings and dragon kings hear the lion's roar, their minds become joyful and delighted. This symbolizes bodhisattvas of the Great Vehicle who, hearing the great Dharma spoken by the Buddha, give rise to immeasurable joy and leap up in delight. Just as Subhuti, at the assembly for the Perfection of Wisdom, heard the Buddha expound the Perfection of Wisdom and was so overwhelmed with joy that it turned to sorrow—hence the Diamond Sutra says: "At that time Subhuti, weeping and in tears, spoke to the Buddha: 'Rare indeed, World-Honored One. From the time I first obtained the wisdom eye until now, I have never heard such a scripture as this.'" This is precisely its meaning.

I roam the rivers and seas, cross mountains and streams, seeking teachers and inquiring after the Path to Cessation, for the sake of Zen Meditation.

Traveling across rivers and seas, traversing mountains and streams, enduring the weariness of the road, rushing north and south—this is for no other purpose than to seek out a teacher and discern the matter of birth and death. As it is said: Impermanence is swift; the matter of birth and death is great. The ancient master Touzi said: All people of the world treat what is urgent as if it were leisurely, and treat what is leisurely as if it were urgent. If you wish to escape birth and death, you must meet a good teacher who serves as a supporting condition, so that you may bring your own matter to clear realization. Truly, this is no small matter. As it is said: The green mountains remain forever, but a teacher is hard to encounter. Therefore it is called seeking a teacher and inquiring of the Path—this is Zen Meditation.

Ever since I realized the path of Caoxi, I have understood that birth and death no longer concern me.

Since I went to Caoxi to have the Sixth Patriarch confirm the Dharma-gate of the mind-ground, I have clearly understood that all dharmas are unborn and undestroyed, neither coming nor going. If one awakens to this Dharma-gate, then one understands that fundamentally birth and death have nothing to do with one another. Therefore it is said, "understanding that birth and death are not connected." If one can be like this, then wondrous function is inexhaustible, and the whole body responds to things. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, whether speaking or silent, acting or doing, in every movement and activity, in turning and bending, in looking up and bowing down—all is nothing but clear and radiant enjoyment within the great stillness of concentration. This will be evident in the following text.

Walking is Zen; sitting is Zen. Speaking or silent, moving or still, the essence is calm and at peace.

Under the ancestral gate, every single thing reveals the teaching; each and every one fully manifests it. The tradition says: In every thought, Shakyamuni appears in the world; with every step, Maitreya is born below. Distinguishing things reveals Manjushri's mind; in every movement, one carries out Samantabhadra's practice. Every gate pours forth sweet dew; every flavor is entirely the finest ghee. Never leaving the forest of Enlightenment, one forever dwells in the ocean of the Huazang realm. Radiant and bright, nothing is left unpenetrated; day after day, light overflows the eyes and shines forth. What need is there for eloquent argument to proclaim it? What need for supernatural powers to display it? If one is like this, then in walking, standing, sitting, and lying down—wherever the eye falls and whatever conditions arise—though responses may differ in a thousand ways, the nature of Suchness remains still and unmoving. Therefore it is said: Walking is also Chan; sitting is also Chan. In speech and silence, in movement and stillness, the essence is at peace.

Even when faced with swords and knives, one remains ever at ease. Even if given poison, one stays perfectly calm.

At all times, whether moving or still, everything becomes an act of Dharma. Even if someone were to attack me with a sharp sword or poison, I would remain calm and at ease, without fear. Thus, at the assembly on Vulture Peak, there were five hundred monks who had attained the four dhyānas and possessed the five supernatural powers. With the power of recollecting past lives, each of them saw their own past deeds—killing fathers, killing mothers, and other grave offenses. In their minds, each harbored doubt and fear. Then Mañjuśrī, holding a sword, confronted the Buddha. The World-Honored One said to Mañjuśrī, "Stop, stop. You should not commit an act of rebellion. Do not harm me. I will surely be harmed—harmed by goodness." Mañjuśrī: from the very beginning, there has never been a self or a person. It is only because the mind within creates the view of a self and a person. When that inner mind arises, "I will surely be harmed"—that is what is called harm. The five hundred monks awakened to their original mind as being like a dream, like an illusion. Within the dream and illusion, there is no self or person—nor even the parents who gave birth, nor the one who is born. Then the five hundred monks praised in unison: "Mañjuśrī, great wise one, profoundly fathoms the very source of the Dharma. With his own hand he grasps the sharp sword and confronts the Buddha's body. The sword is just like the Buddha—one mark, no duality. No marks, nothing born. Within this, how could there be killing?" The celestial robe riddle asks: How do you explain "the sword is just like the Buddha"? If one understands this karmic circumstance, then even when facing a sharp blade, one remains ever calm; even if given poison, one remains at ease—at ease.

My teacher met the Buddha Dipankara, and for many kalpas was the Patience Sage.

It is not only I who now practice this Patience. Even all the Buddhas of the ten directions, Shakyamuni Tathagata among them, practiced this austere discipline of Patience.

As for the one called Dipankara Buddha: when the World-Honored One was a Snow Mountain youth in a former life, he encountered Dipankara Tathagata appearing in the world. He personally bought lotus flowers with five hundred gold coins and went to offer them to that Buddha, vowing, "May I attain perfect and complete enlightenment." Dipankara Tathagata then gave him a prediction, saying, "In a future life you will become a Buddha, with the title Shakyamuni. Your teaching of the Dharma and saving of beings will be no different from mine." Therefore it is said, "My teacher met Dipankara Buddha."

As for the Ascetic of Patience: when the World-Honored One was a Patience ascetic in a former life, he lived in the mountains practicing various austerities. It happened that King Kalamashoka and his palace women entered the mountain to hunt. While the king was taking a nap during the day, the palace women wandered off to explore the mountain. Suddenly they saw an ascetic sitting solemnly and alone in his hut, and all the palace women came to gaze upon him in reverence. When the king awoke, he asked his close ministers, "Where are the palace women?" His attendants reported, "They have gone to that ascetic's hut." The king was enraged and with his own hand drew his sword and killed that ascetic, cutting his hands and feet apart joint by joint. Yet the ascetic's expression did not change. The king, astonished, asked him, "I am killing you now—do you feel Hatred?" He answered, "No." The king said, "Though you say nothing of Hatred, you must harbor Hatred and rage within." He answered, "If my mind held Hatred, it could not be restored to peace. Because my mind holds no Hatred, let this body of mine be restored as it was before." No sooner had he spoken than the ascetic's body was restored as before. Seeing this marvel, the king was terrified and fled. Midway along the road, heaven sent down wind and rain, thunderbolts, clouds and fog; he lost the path and could not escape at all. He turned back into the mountain, came to the ascetic's place, and begged for forgiveness.

So too did he give his body to feed a starving tiger, and cut his flesh to relieve a hungry eagle. He practiced all kinds of austerities, and not for just one kalpa. Therefore it is said, "For many kalpas he was the Ascetic of Patience."

How many times born, how many times dead. Birth and death stretch on endlessly, with no fixed resting place.

These are words of true awakening, spoken in grief and lament. Before one has aroused the Bodhi mind, one passes through immeasurable kalpas enduring immeasurable bodies. In the ocean of birth and death, one drifts and surfaces on the waves endlessly, with no time of ending. In the midst of the unchanging realm, one suffers rebirth in vain. Within the Dharma of no liberation, one falsely gives rise to entanglements. Like a spring silkworm making its cocoon, like an autumn moth rushing to the lamp. With the threads of the two views, one binds the substance of ignorance. With the wings of ignorance and craving, one beats against the burning wheel of birth and death. From birth to death there is no rest, like a rope tied to a flying bird — released, it comes back again. Therefore it is said: how many times born, how many times dead; birth and death stretch on endlessly, with no fixed resting place.

Since suddenly awakening to the unborn, what grief or joy could honor and disgrace bring?

Once you suddenly awaken to the truth that all phenomena are unborn, what sorrow or joy could the circumstances of honor and disgrace stir in you? It is precisely because the perfected person attains freedom within the realm of birth and death. Thus Hanshan's poem says:

Zhuangzi spoke of burial: Heaven and earth shall be my coffin and outer casket. When my time to return comes, I need only a single stop. Dead, I will feed the hungry blue flies; no need to trouble white cranes to mourn. Starving, I will lie on Shouyang Mountain— living in integrity, dying too is joy.

If you grasp the essential meaning of this, you suddenly awaken to the unborn. As for "what sorrow or joy could honor and disgrace stir"—once you can suddenly awaken to the unborn and are free even in birth and death, then you know the circumstances of honor and disgrace can be set aside. Once honor and disgrace are forgotten, where could a mind of sorrow and joy arise from?

Entering deep mountains, dwelling in a secluded temple, amid peaks towering and valleys profound, beneath ancient pines.

Those who enter deep mountains are not in bustling, noisy places. To dwell in an arañña—fully spoken, "arañña"—that is, a monastery. "Craggy" describes the tall appearance of mountains. "Beneath the tall pines" is a place of carefree wandering beyond worldly concerns. A person who has seen their true nature spends their days according to conditions, roaming freely as their nature inclines. Whether entering deep mountains or living in rocky valleys, wherever they go they establish teachings and respond to beings without fixed method—nothing is impossible. White clouds and green peaks, beneath the pines and beside the water—all are the realm of a person of the Path.

Dwelling at ease in quiet meditation, a forest monk's home, In silent stillness he abides, truly free and unconstrained.

Those who are at ease and unhurried: this describes being entirely free from restraint. People who leave home to practice recognize the mind and penetrate to the root. They roam at ease through the three realms and move freely among the four kinds of birth, no longer bound by the toils of affliction, carefree and at liberty. Sitting quietly in peaceful dwelling—this is why Xuedou said: one who has left home can attain such nobility, can attain such loftiness. Though the position of a ruler of ten thousand chariots is high, they do not bow to it; though the gates of the five noble houses are steep, they do not hasten toward them. With a thousand mountains before their eyes, the mind rests at leisure on a single realm. Layer upon layer of cliffside trees cast shade over the gate of Good Fortune; fold upon fold of stream clouds spread color through Vimalakirti's chamber. Meeting one another here—how delightful it is!

Awakening means understanding, without applying effort. All conditioned phenomena are different.

Once you fully understand all Dharmas, you no longer need to practice conditioned efforts. Conditioned efforts are not the ultimate. That is why Hanshan said:

I see the wheel-turning king, A thousand sons always surrounding him. Through the ten good deeds he transforms the four heavens, Adorned with abundant seven treasures. The seven treasures stay with him always, His adornment is wondrous and fine. But one day his blessings run out, And he is like a bird perched in the reeds. He returns as a worm at an ox's neck, Receiving the karmic path through the six realms. How much more so for ordinary people — How can they keep impermanence at bay?

From this we know: the merit of meritorious merit — all such merit is impermanent. The merit of meritless merit is merit not vainly discarded. Therefore it is said that all conditioned Dharmas are not the same.

Generosity given while clinging to appearances brings heavenly blessings— like shooting an arrow upward into empty space.

Those who practice Generosity while dwelling on appearances are not in accord with Prajñā. Because they cling to appearances, their practice becomes conditioned, effortful action—not ultimate. Thus the ancient masters said: "If Prajñā is not cultivated, the ten thousand practices are set up in vain; the merit and practices one cultivates cannot accord with one's true nature." As for what is meant by "Generosity": directing the mind with vastness is called "giving" (布); extending oneself to benefit others is called "bestowing" (施). Hence it is called Generosity. It is one of the Six Perfections. "The merit of rebirth in heaven" means the karmic reward one attracts is merely the blessing of rebirth in heaven—ultimately it is not the ultimate. It is like shooting an arrow upward into the sky: in the end it does not reach heaven.

When your strength is spent, the arrow falls back down— and you reap only dissatisfaction in your next life.

Like shooting an arrow into the sky: once its force is spent, it inevitably falls back to the ground. The same is true when the blessings of humans and devas come to an end. The four signs in the human realm and the five signs of decline in the heavens are all signs that blessings have run out. The four signs are: first, the sign of birth; second, the sign of aging; third, the sign of sickness; fourth, the sign of death. The five signs of decline are: first, the flower crown falls to the ground; second, the eyelids twitch; third, relatives and attendants scatter and leave; fourth, the body's radiance fades on its own; fifth, one no longer delights in one's own seat. As for "drawing an unsatisfactory next life," the ancient masters said that the blessings and rewards of humans and devas are a trap spanning three lifetimes, and few people know this. The reason is that worldly people, because of their blessings, fail to understand their root and keep adding to them. Relying on this life's blessings, they indulge their feelings in amusement. At the moment of death, when blessings are exhausted but karma remains, they fall instead into the lower realms and undergo all kinds of suffering. Therefore it is said to "draw an unsatisfactory next life."

How could it compare to the gate of unconditioned true reality—one leap straight into the Tathagata's ground?

So we know that the blessed rewards of the lesser vehicle, of humans and celestial beings, and all conditioned phenomena are not ultimate. How could they compare with the gate of unconditioned true reality, where one leaps directly beyond and enters the Tathagata's pure realm of enlightenment? This single path has never been trodden by any of the thousand sages. Within the second gate, we rely briefly on words and explanations. Thus the First Patriarch of India said:

The Dharma is fundamentally no-dharma; No-dharma is also Dharma. Now that no-dharma is transmitted, How could any dharma be a dharma?

Thus every dharma is absolute, all are the illuminating essence standing alone. It is like a finger that cannot touch itself, like a knife that cannot cut itself, like earth that cannot solidify itself, like water that cannot moisten itself, like fire that cannot heat itself, like wind that cannot move itself, like an ear that cannot hear itself, like a nose that cannot smell itself, like a tongue that cannot taste itself, like a body that cannot feel itself, like the mind that cannot know itself, like an eye that cannot see itself.

Therefore it is said: if the eye is understood as an eye, then the error of "eye" arises. If the eye is understood as no-eye, then the error of "no-eye" arises. If one clings to having an eye, one is deluded about its no-eye nature. Because of having an eye, wondrous seeing does not function. Thus the sutra says: no eye, no form. Furthermore, those who are deluded about the eye and take it as no-eye lose the true eye. They are like one born blind who cannot distinguish colors. Thus the sutra says: like a person whose eyes are ruined, who can no longer make use of the five colors. The hearers of the teachings are likewise. Only the Tathagata has attained the true divine eye, constantly present and undimmed, seeing all Buddha lands. Because of seeing with non-dual vision, he is not the same as ordinary beings. Because he can see all that is seen, he is not the same as the hearers. His seeing differs from what ordinary beings see — this is called transcending the ordinary. His seeing differs from what the hearers see — this is called surpassing the sages. Since he can transcend the ordinary and surpass the sages, he reaches the Buddha's knowing and seeing. Therefore it is said: one leaps directly beyond and enters the Tathagata's realm.

Just attain the root, and do not worry about the branches. It is like pure crystal containing the jeweled moon.

If you grasp the root, the branches can be understood.

The ancient masters said: Lecturers today emphasize only the gradual teachings, while Chan practitioners spread only the sudden school. Lecturers and Chan practitioners contradict each other, as far apart as the barbarians of the north and the people of Yue in the south. As a result, people and the Dharma are at odds, and the Dharma and people are afflicted. The Buddha's intent—root and branches—is hard to see, and the scattered meanings are vast and boundless, hard to fathom.

Yet though there are many who study broadly, very few hold firm to their resolve. If you connect the branches to the root, then it can be understood. Therefore it is said: "Just grasp the root, and do not worry about the branches."

"Like pure lapis lazuli containing the jewel moon": lapis lazuli represents the wondrous realm of the Dharma body; the jewel moon represents the true wisdom of liberation. When realm and wisdom merge and become one, bright and transparent throughout the ten directions, radiant spiritual light shines through present and past, like a lapis lazuli bowl holding the bright moon within.

I now understand this wish-fulfilling jewel: benefiting myself and benefiting others, it never runs dry.

(The wish-fulfilling jewel is the mani jewel. This single jewel alone possesses all merit; among all treasures, this one is supreme. Its use is wish-fulfilling, and it can be compared to the treasure of the mind. The sutra says: "Only on the king's head is there this one jewel, not recklessly given to others." This one treasure is not obtained from outside. It is just that all sentient beings' deluded thoughts cover it over, so it cannot clearly appear. The ancients said: like a bright pearl sewn under clothing—though bright, it does not shine; like a treasure hidden within the house—seeming to exist, yet as if not. Today Yongjia explains that this one pearl relieves and aids sentient beings, its use never exhausted. Therefore it is said: "It is never exhausted.")

The moon over the river shines, The wind through the pines blows. Through the long night and clear sky, What is there to do?

When night falls, the moonlight shines white beneath the window. At times, the sound of pine breezes makes the pillow feel clear and fresh. This matter—even if a thousand sages appeared in the world and possessed unobstructed eloquence, they still could not express it fully. Setting aside one narrow path, let us briefly rely on words and understanding within the gate of establishing and transforming. To put it forcefully: this is the realm of the great beings Mañjuśrī and Samantabhadra. Although all sentient beings are born within it, they do not know it themselves. Those of the Lesser Vehicle cannot move toward it. This realm is neither ordinary nor holy. Though it is difficult to see, it is right before the eyes. Mountains are high, seas are wide, cypress is short, pine is tall. Willows are green, flowers are red, orioles sing, cranes cry. The river moon shines; the pine wind blows. Through the long night and clear sky, what is there to do? If one is a person of the Path who is true to their own lot, one awakening takes them straight through to dawn.

The Buddha-nature is the jewel of the Precepts, the seal of the mind-ground. Mist, dew, clouds, and haze are the garments upon the body.

Prajna is one single Dharma. The Buddha speaks of it under many different names. Sometimes it is called Buddha-nature. Sometimes it is called the Precept Pearl. Sometimes it is called the Mind-ground. Sometimes it is called the Mind-seal. All of these are one and the same Dharma. According to its various functions, it receives different names. Because it can awaken and know, it is called Buddha-nature. Because it is bright, pure, and free of defilement, it is called the Precept Pearl. Because it can produce all dharmas, it is called the Mind-ground. Because it gives command over all beings, it is called the Seal. Though there are three names, there are not three dharmas. Extending this, the myriad phenomena of the world—whatever the eye meets and whatever conditions arise—the material world, mountains, and rivers are all one and the same substance. Mist, dew, clouds, and haze are none of them anything other. Therefore it is said: mist, dew, clouds, and haze are garments on the body.

The bowl that subdued the dragon; the staff that tamed the tiger.

The bowl and the staff are both names of monastic implements. The bowl is the vessel that measures the proper amount. The staff is so called because it makes a tinny sound when shaken. What are spoken of as the dragon-subduing bowl and the tiger-parting staff were each named according to the circumstances that gave rise to them.

The dragon-subduing bowl refers to the World-Honored One subduing the fire-dragon of the outer-path teacher. Long ago there were three Kashyapa brothers who joined the Buddha and left home, but they fell back from their resolve for the Path and served the fire-dragon of the outer-path teacher. The Buddha, seeing that their roots had ripened, went to save them. At that time he went there seeking lodging. Kashyapa said, "There is no empty room here for you to stay in. There is only the fire-dragon's stone cave. Could you stay there?" The Buddha went and stayed there. In the middle of that night the fire-dragon displayed its powers: smoke came from its nostrils and fire sprang from its scales and hide, and in a short while it blazed fiercely, wanting to harm the Buddha. Then the World-Honored One aroused a mind of compassion and manifested the fire of samadhi, which gradually grew bright and clear. The fire-dragon's poisonous fire turned back and burned its own body, and it had nowhere to flee. It saw only that within the World-Honored One's precious bowl there was coolness and vastness, and so it threw itself into the bowl. Hence it is called the dragon-subduing bowl.

The tiger-parting staff: it began when the eminent monk Chan Master Chou was practicing concentration on Wangwu Mountain in Huaizhou. He saw two tigers fighting, and at once used his staff to part them from the middle. The two tigers each went their separate ways. Hence this name arose. Therefore it is said: the dragon-subduing bowl and the tiger-parting staff.

Two cobalt-gold rings ring out clearly, one after another.

The two prongs represent the Two Truths, the ultimate and the conventional. The six rings represent the Six Perfections. The center represents the Middle Way. The resounding ring of the staff is the sound of the tin staff being shaken. A person of superior capacity who hears it can immediately enter the Way. In the Lesser Vehicle, the tin staff has four prongs and twelve rings. The four prongs represent the Four Noble Truths. The twelve rings represent the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination. The stupa at the center represents the Triple Gem that maintains the tradition. But what if it were in the hand of a patch-robed monk—how would it be represented then? Consider how the Great Master at that time carried it to Caoxi and personally met the Sixth Patriarch. He circled the meditation platform three times and gave it one great shake. Tell me, what matter did that accomplish? Patch-robed monks with clear eyes, try to judge this.

It is not the outward shape, nor an empty, insubstantial observance—it is the actual trace left by the Tathagata's jeweled staff.

It is not about outwardly displaying dignified demeanor and marking out one's physical form, emptily claiming to uphold it. Therefore Master Bao said: "The great man moves with grandeur, free and at ease without fixed direction. Nothing can harm him; he is firm as diamond. How could this be an empty matter of upholding?" "The Tathāgata's jeweled staff, the very traces of his footsteps" — the scripture says: The Buddha told the monks, "You should receive and uphold the mendicant's staff. Why? Because past Tathāgatas and present Buddhas all held it." It is the emblem of the sage. Therefore it is said, "The Tathāgata's jeweled staff, the very traces of his footsteps." If you do not understand this, go ask old man Deshan.

Do not seek the true, do not cut off the false. Understand clearly that both are empty, without fixed characteristics.

They do not seek the true, and thus go beyond the ways of ordinary people. They do not cut off the false, and thus go beyond the ways of the Two Vehicles. The followers of the Two Vehicles abandon the false and seek the true, cut off afflictions and seek Enlightenment, and realize a conditioned Nirvana. Therefore this is not the ultimate path of liberation. The followers of the Great Vehicle neither seek the true nor cut off the false; they understand that the two dharmas of true and false are fundamentally without form or appearance. Thus Master Bao said: "No head, no hands—when the world is destroyed, it does not perish." Therefore it is said: clearly knowing the two dharmas are empty and without appearance.

No form, no emptiness, and no non-emptiness—this is the Tathagata's true reality.

The preceding sentence successively wipes away traces; the following sentence directly reveals the ultimate truth. Because of what was said above—not seeking true [suchness] and not cutting off delusion, clearly knowing that these two dharmas are empty and signless—Yongjia was deeply concerned that later people might fall into emptiness and signlessness, and so he offered this pointing-out. When it speaks of "signless," it means there are no phenomenal dharmas. "Not empty" means there are no principle-dharmas. "Not not-empty" means the very method of dispelling is also empty. As for "the Tathagata's true sign," this means entering the Tathagata's signless, subtle wondrous Dharma-gate.

The mirror of the mind is bright and clear, free of any hindrance. Vast and luminous, it pervades the entire universe.

Once the mind-mirror is clear, it reflects things without obstruction. A commentary says: "Those with wisdom understand through parables." The mind of one who has clarified the mind is like a bright mirror: it can take in all images, and they all enter into it, with nothing blocking them. Pure and all-embracing, it has no boundary. An ancient master said, "Smash the mirror, and I will meet you." The entire ten-direction world is a single mirror. So where will you set your hand to it? If you can realize it right here, your spiritual light shines through with nowhere to be covered. Therefore it is said: "Vast and luminous, perfectly clear, pervading the sand-grain worlds."

All phenomena, vast and manifold, appear as reflections within it. A single perfect orb of light—neither inside nor outside.

In the heavens, brightly shining—looking up and observing them, we call them the myriad phenomena. On earth, distinctly standing—looking down and examining them, we call them the teeming array. The commentary says: "The teeming array and the myriad phenomena are all sealed by the one Dharma." How could they be obtained from outside? They exist only within the light and shadow of a single thought of the minds of all sentient beings. Therefore it is said: "The myriad phenomena and teeming array are manifested within the light and shadow." "A single orb of perfect light is neither inside nor outside"—one point of luminous clarity has no surface and no interior. Its spiritual brightness blazes brilliantly, shining through the ten directions, with no inside or outside. Therefore Master Sengzhao said: "One who understands the myriad dharmas as returning to oneself—is that person not a sage?"

Reckless emptiness that dismisses cause and effect leads to vast and boundless misfortune.

Those who cling to a nihilistic emptiness are practicing the annihilationist emptiness cultivated by non-Buddhist ascetics of India. To deny causality means to be thoroughly attached to emptiness and to deny cause and effect altogether. Thus we should understand that all causes and effects—whether worldly or transcendent, human or heavenly, good or evil—and all karma whatsoever are not off by even a hair's breadth. The sutra says: "Even after a hundred thousand eons, one's actions are not forgotten. When causes and conditions meet, the karmic results return to oneself." Moreover, non-Buddhists do not understand this Dharma, and so they are confused about cause and effect. Once one falls into the view of annihilationism, the resulting disasters and transgressions are beyond words. It is like the vast ocean, boundless and shoreless. Therefore it is said: "Boundless and shoreless, one invites disasters and transgressions."

Rejecting existence and clinging to Emptiness is the same disease—like fleeing drowning only to leap into fire.

If you abandon the view of existence but then cling to the view of nonexistence, that is just the same sickness. So the ancient masters said: "If you try to still the mind and gather your thoughts, withdraw from affairs and take refuge in Emptiness, not blinking, not moving, closing the eyes and hiding the pupils — as soon as a thought arises, immediately cutting it off; the moment a subtle notion is born, immediately suppressing it — such a view falls right into the void, an outsider whose spirit never disperses, a dead man. Therefore it is said: abandoning existence and clinging to emptiness is the same sickness. It is like someone fleeing drowning in great waters only to throw himself into fire. Therefore it is said: it is like avoiding drowning and throwing oneself into fire.

Let go of the deluded mind and grasp the truth—but the very mind that grasps and rejects is itself clever falsity.

If you abandon the deluded mind in order to grasp the truth of suchness, then this very mind of grasping and rejecting becomes a contrived and false practice. As the tradition says: grasping one side and rejecting the other only adds to deluded thinking; clinging to one's own nature and fleeing from one's own nature only leads further astray from the true source. The reason is that when emptiness and existence are both forgotten, the single flavor is revealed in both. To dwell in a place of total cutoff is itself the root of affliction. This saying is no lie. Therefore Luoshan said: coarse food easily satisfies; chewed finely, it is hard to go hungry. The root is fundamentally different, and the fault truly lies in one's own mistake. Those who study Prajna must, at this point, investigate with the utmost care.

Students who do not understand this fail to apply it in practice; truly they mistake a thief for their own child.

People who study Prajna but do not understand the Dharma-gate of the mind-ground, and instead cultivate conditioned practices and endeavors, are all not ultimate. They belong entirely to the conditioned. They are right at the shore of birth and death. This is like the ten kinds of immortal cultivators in the Surangama Sutra and all those who practice at provisional stages without understanding the ultimate meaning—none of them can escape. This is because, with a false mind that grasps and rejects, they claim to be cultivating and realizing supreme Enlightenment. It is just like ordinary people who take a thief as their son and wish him to be truly their own—there is no such possibility. Therefore it is said: truly, one takes a thief to be one's son.

It destroys the wealth of the Dharma and wipes out merit — all because of this mind, intellect, and consciousness.

Once you mistake a thief for your own child, how can you preserve the wealth of Dharma and merit? Everything is lost. That is why it says, "It damages the wealth of Dharma and destroys merit." None of this happens apart from mind, intellect, and consciousness. Being aware of objects and knowing what is different from wood and stone is called mind. Deliberating with the mind is called intellect. Clearly distinguishing and knowing is called consciousness. Through these three faculties, one is carried along into all kinds of mental formations and creates all kinds of karma—all from these. A commentary says: When the mind is divided, a thousand differences arise in contention. When the mind is at peace, ten thousand dharmas are level and calm. When the mind is defiled, the six realms and four kinds of birth appear. When the mind is empty, the single path is pure. That is why it says, "None of this happens apart from mind, intellect, and consciousness."

This is how the Zen school puts an end to the mind, and suddenly enters the power of the non-arising insight.

All the practices described above are unbeneficial austerities; they are certainly not the real path. Only the one Dharma of prajna is ultimate. The Great Prajnaparamita Sutra says: "The profound Perfection of Wisdom is the mother of all Buddhas; it can reveal to the world the true reality of all dharmas." How could those who have left home fail to devote their whole hearts to this? Therefore Master Yunmen warned his brothers, saying: "When you have equally worn out your straw sandals wandering in pilgrimage, cast aside your parents and teachers, you must truly open your eyes a little. If you meet someone who is the genuine article, with the hands and feet to bite and devour pig and dog—someone who does not spare his life, who enters mud and water to work for others—then there is something to chew on. Raise your eyebrows, hang up your bowl and bag, and for ten or twenty years, strike through until you are thoroughly done. Do not worry that you will not succeed." All the sages from of old have without exception roused and encouraged people to apply their minds in this very gate. Hence it is said: "Thus, through the Chan gate, one finishes with the mind and suddenly enters the power of the unborn knowledge and vision."

A great steadfast one wields the sword of wisdom—the blade of prajñā, the flame of the adamantine.

A person of the world who has a generous, heroic spirit, who rides upon the blade of Moye, and with a heart of loyalty and filial piety assists and supports an enlightened ruler, overawing the world—such a one is called a great man. Now when we speak of a great man here, it means one who possesses the great wisdom that transcends the world, who wields the sword of wisdom, with Prajñā as its point and blade, and with diamond as its fierce flame, shattering the net of afflictions and escaping the realm of birth and death. Therefore such a one is called a great man. The tradition says: even a woman or a child, if they have this aspiration, is also called a great man. Even a towering man of eight feet, if he lacks this aspiration, is not called a great man. As for what is called diamond: because it is the hardest among metals, it is called diamond. Extremely firm and extremely sharp, it is a metaphor for Prajñā. Because it is firm, nothing can destroy it; because it is sharp, it can destroy all things. Only Indra possesses it; those of thin merit find it hard to see. As for its function: whatever it is directed at is made empty. Directed at a mountain, the mountain crumbles; directed at the sea, the sea dries up. Its power is inconceivable, and so it is a metaphor for Prajñā.

Not only can it crush the minds of those on mistaken paths—it has long since made the heavenly demons' courage fail.

But "still" means "alone." It was not only that he had already crushed the minds of the six teachers and the non-Buddhists of India; he had long ago caused the heavenly demons' courage to fall away.

The Precious Star Sutra says: "There was a demon king who was the chief among all the demons. Even in ordinary times, when he pressed his hand to the ground, the entire three-thousand great-thousand world would quake. When the Buddha attained enlightenment, this demon king led all his hosts of demons, intending to strike the ground with his hand before the Buddha and, by uprooting Mount Sumeru, to trouble and harm the World-Honored One. The World-Honored One then entered the samadhi of a compassionate mind. At that moment, when the demon king tried to raise his hand, he could not even see the ground—how much less could he touch it. Then the demon king, stricken with terror in heart and courage, fled. Therefore it is said: 'He had long ago caused the heavenly demons' courage to fall away.'"

The thunder of Dharma resounds. The Dharma drum is struck. Beneath clouds of compassion, sweet dew falls.

Prajñā is one Dharma. The Buddha speaks of it by various names. Sometimes it is called the Sword of Wisdom. Sometimes it is called the Dharma Thunder. Sometimes it is called the Dharma Drum. Sometimes it is called the Cloud of Compassion. Sometimes it is called Sweet Dew. It is simply one Dharma, named according to its various functions.

It can cut through the net of doubt, and because it is extremely sharp, it is called the Sword of Wisdom. It startles and moves beings, helping their good karma grow, so it is called the Dharma Thunder. It gathers humans and celestial beings, and is skilled at giving commands, so it is called the Dharma Drum. It can spread over all living beings like a shade, so that they all attain coolness, so it is called the Cloud of Compassion. It can relieve feverish distress and quench scorching thirst, so it is called Sweet Dew. All of these are simply the one Dharma of Prajñā.

Dragons and elephants trample and tread, spreading moisture without bound. The Three Vehicles and the five natures all awaken to clarity.

A place where dragons and elephants tread is certainly not ground for donkeys and mules to walk upon.

The Three Vehicles are: first, the Bodhisattva Vehicle; second, the Śrāvaka Vehicle; third, the Pratyekabuddha Vehicle.

The five natures are: first, the good nature; second, the evil nature; third, the fixed nature; fourth, the indeterminate nature; fifth, the icchantika nature.

The Three Vehicles and the five natures—let us set aside awakening to them for now. Suppose three kinds of sick people suddenly come—could you still receive them? One suffering from blindness cannot see even when a whisk is raised or a stick is held up. One suffering from deafness cannot hear even the language of samādhi. One suffering from muteness cannot speak even when told to speak. So how would you receive them? If you cannot receive such people, the Dharma has no efficacy.

Though people of old said this, the capacities of the times could not rise to it. Once a monk sought instruction from Yunmen. The Master said, "You—bow." The monk bowed and rose. The Master poked him with his staff. (pronounced "she piao"; means "to strike") The monk stepped back. The Master said, "You are not blind." Again he called the monk forward. The monk came forward. The Master said, "You are not deaf." Then he said, "Do you understand?" The monk said, "I do not understand." The Master said, "You are not mute." The monk suddenly had an awakening at these words.

If you can truly grasp this utterance, then not only the Three Vehicles and five natures—the blind, the deaf, and the mute—will all awaken. Indeed, you should bring everyone in the whole world to together seek Buddhahood. Do you fully understand?

Even so, if you are a clear-eyed patch-robed monk, you must still examine this carefully and discern it in detail.

The snow mountain is rich and pure, with no mixture at all. It yields only the finest ghee, which I always receive.

In the Snow Mountains of the Western Regions there is a plant called Fatness and Richness. It is pure, fragrant, and delicious. When a white cow eats it, whatever the cow produces becomes the finest ghee—unlike the rank, musky, blood-mixed milk of these parts, which is impure.

The Snow Mountains stand for the one true and wondrous realm. The fragrant plant stands for the perfect cultivation of the Eightfold Path. The cow stands for the true wisdom that illuminates principle. The ghee stands for the wondrous Dharma of the One Vehicle. This shows that bodhisattvas do not practice by gradual stages. Those with the capacity for the Great Vehicle attain perfect enlightenment from the very moment they first set their minds on it.

As for the words "I always take in"—this means that those who study prajñā have every thought corresponding with prajñā. That is why the passage below sets forth dharmas that all enter the realm of infinite layers upon layers, where nothing obstructs anything.

One nature, perfectly interpenetrating all natures. One Dharma, universally containing all dharmas.

The one nature is the nature of the one reality. The one dharma is the dharma of the one mind. "The one nature perfectly interfuses with all natures" means that the one nature perfectly interfuses with the nature of the Dharma realm. "The one dharma universally contains all dharmas" means that the dharma of the one mind universally contains the inexhaustible dharmas.

Chan Master Shou said: The root produces the branches, and the branches reveal the root. Essence and function mutually arise. The true becomes the conventional, and the conventional establishes the true. Ordinary beings and sages mutually illuminate: this reveals that, and that reveals this. Host and companion together intermingle: sentient beings accomplish Buddhahood, and the Buddha saves sentient beings. Cause and effect interpenetrate completely. The object has no self-nature, yet through others it becomes self. The mind has no self-nature, yet through itself it becomes other. Principle is not established, yet the one is the many. Phenomena are not established, yet the many are the one. Though characteristics are empty, they constantly merge into one substance. Though the nature is real, it constantly abides amid the myriad conditions. Though it is manifest, it is difficult to seek through conceptual feeling. Though it utterly transcends, it does not hinder great function. Freely ranging through illusory realms, within the one nature all is fused in truth.

Therefore, what the great Avatamsaka Sutra in eighty fascicles teaches has not existed since former times and ceased to exist now. The tradition says: The sublime scripture of thirty-nine chapters, from beginning to end, interweaves. The wondrous words of one hundred thousand verses, front and back, mutually respond. Ten places, ten assemblies, like the layered pearls of Indra's net. Ten lands, ten dust-motes, like reflections in a mirror mutually entering. Raise one gate, and all gates instantly appear. Expound one chapter, and all chapters are equally revealed. At the bodhi tree, the Buddha first attained enlightenment, and the nine heavens all assembled together. At Universal Light, in a single gathering, the ten places all ascended together. New and old are without difference; before and after are a single thought. Therefore, the nun of Mount Mo first listened to the great sutra, and later, through investigation, had an awakening and entered. Only then did she believe that right now she was present within the Avatamsaka Dharma realm. There is a verse:

On the mountain of the Five Aggregates stands the ancient Buddha hall; Vairocana day and night emits radiant light. If you can be neither the same nor different herein, Then this is the Avatamsaka pervading the ten directions.

Therefore it is said: "The one nature perfectly interfuses with all natures; the one dharma universally contains all dharmas."

The one moon appears in all waters. All the moon reflections in all waters are held within the one moon.

When one moon appears everywhere in all waters: like a single moon in the clear sky appearing everywhere in rivers, ponds, marshes, oceans, streams, and pools—wherever there is water, the moon appears there. All water-moons are contained in the one moon: the moon appearing in all those waters is simply the one moon in the sky. In the Huayan analogy of one moon and three boats, the sutra says: suppose boats are moored, dividing the moonlight. When a boat moves east, the one moon goes east. When a boat moves west, the one moon goes west. When a boat moves south, the one moon goes south. When a boat moves north, the one moon goes north. As for the boat that stays still, the moon it sees does not move. In this way, in all four directions and the ten quarters, the moon is seen everywhere. Therefore it is said: a thousand vessels are set out together, and the thousand moons are not the same; along one clear river, the one moon is a solitary reflection. Even so with pure water and impure water, clear water and muddy water, and waters that are sweet, bitter, astringent, salty, or bland—in all of them the moon appears at once. The sutra says: when I attained the path, I saw that all living beings had all attained the path. The commentary says: the Buddhas are like a cool moon, ever roaming in ultimate Emptiness; when living beings' minds are clear as water, the reflection of Enlightenment appears within. Have faith in these words.

The Dharmakaya of all Buddhas enters into my own nature. My own nature in turn merges with the Tathagata.

The Buddhas within the mind of sentient beings—with every thought they realize the truth. The sentient beings within the mind of the Buddhas—with every thought they become Buddhas. Therefore it is said: "The Dharma-body of the Buddhas enters my own nature; my nature is wholly united with the Tathagata." This is precisely because the Buddhas personally realize the Dharma-body, and sentient beings inherently possess the Dharma-body. Jingxi says: "Sentient beings possess it in principle; the Buddhas accomplish it. Whether accomplished or possessed, none are unequal in nature." Therefore it is said: "My nature is wholly united with the Tathagata." Thus Hanshan says: "I have heard that Shakyamuni Buddha personally received the prediction from Dipankara Buddha. Dipankara and Shakyamuni differ only in the wisdom of before and after. Before and after are not different in essence; within difference there is no difference. One Buddha is all Buddhas—the mind itself is the Tathagata's ground." This is what it means.

One ground fully contains all grounds. It is not form, not mind, not karmic action.

The preceding passage says, "One nature perfectly pervades all natures," which speaks of non-obstructed nature. "One Dharma universally contains all Dharmas," which speaks of non-obstructed Dharma. "One moon universally appears in all waters," which is a metaphor for non-obstruction. Now it says, "One ground fully possesses all grounds," which speaks of non-obstructed merit. As for what is called "ground," ground has the meaning of being able to produce. That is, the first ground fully possesses the merits of the ten grounds, and so it is said that one ground fully possesses all grounds. As for saying "neither form, nor mind, nor mental formations, nor karma": since one ground fully possesses the merits of the ten grounds, its merit is inconceivable, and so form, mind, mental formations, and karma cannot be measured. "Neither form" means it is not obstructive form. "Neither mind" means it is not perceiving mind. "Neither mental formations" means it is not the mental formations of flux and fabrication. "Neither karma" means it is not produced karma. Here, in order to reveal its Dharma-nature, feelings are therefore set aside; thus the following passage clarifies its wondrous function.

In a snap of the fingers, eighty thousand Dharma gates are perfectly accomplished. In a single instant, the three incalculable eons are swept away.

In the time it takes to snap one's fingers, eighty thousand Dharma methods are accomplished. In a single instant, the transgressions of three asaṃkhyeya kalpas can be erased. When a single thought of hatred arises, eighty thousand gates of obstruction open. Now that one has awakened and entered the principle of non-arising, the eighty-four thousand afflictions transform into eighty-four thousand pure and liberated Dharma methods—one immediately transcends the three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas. This is the power of spiritual practice. Therefore the Surangama Sutra says: "Dissolve my颠倒 thoughts of a million kalpas; without passing through saṃkhyeya kalpas, attain the Dharma body." This is deeply credible.

What is called "three kalpas" means the three asaṃkhyeya kalpas. Since ancient times, from Śākyamuni to Buddha Śikhin is one kalpa; from Śikhin to Buddha Dīpaṃkara is one kalpa; from Dīpaṃkara to Buddha Vipaśyin is one kalpa. Hence it is called the three kalpas. Let this matter rest for now. Just as Chan Yue says: "When Chan guests meet, they merely snap their fingers; how many people can know this mind?" If one does not yet know where it lands, who would dare call themselves a Chan guest?

All these numerical expressions and non-numerical expressions — what have they to do with my spiritual awareness?

All named and conceptual dharmas, Bodhi, Nirvana, True Suchness, and Liberation are neither existent nor nonexistent, neither ordinary nor noble. The numbered dharma-gates are without end, yet they are not ultimately final. Therefore it is said, "All numbered phrases are non-numbered phrases."

When Yaoshan first visited Shitou, he immediately asked, "I have roughly studied the Three Vehicles and the Twelve Divisions of the teachings. I have heard that in the South there is direct pointing to the human mind—seeing one's nature and becoming a Buddha. I have come especially to pay my respects. I humbly hope the Master, out of compassion, will instruct me." The Master said, "Thus also is not allowed; not thus also is not allowed; thus and not thus are both not allowed. If you can penetrate this karmic occasion, I permit you to leave the thorny forest and possess the eye of a patch-robed monk." Therefore it is said, "What connection has it with my spiritual awareness?"

It cannot be destroyed. It cannot be praised. Its essence is like empty space, without boundary or shore.

Only those who have seen their true nature can be unmoved by praise or blame. People who have not yet understood, when they meet with favorable conditions and hear words of praise, feel joy arise in their minds; when they meet with unfavorable conditions and hear words of insult, feel anger arise in their minds. This is because they do not understand that the nature of words is empty. Those who have penetrated the Dharma understand that words of praise and blame cannot be grasped, and they accord with the essence of the Dharma, just like empty space that has no boundaries. Therefore it is said: cannot be blamed, cannot be praised — its essence is like empty space without boundaries.

It is always right here, clear and calm, never apart from this very place. If you go looking for it, you will find it cannot be seen.

The Buddha's body fills the entire Dharma realm, appearing universally before all beings—this is precisely the ever-serene nature that never departs from where one stands. It means this conscious, luminous nature does not leave seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing throughout the twelve hours of the day. If one seeks the nature of awareness apart from seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing, there is no such possibility. The ancestral teacher said: "Seeking the mind with the mind—is this not a great mistake?" May I ask everyone: which one is right where you stand? If you can break through right here, you will equally share the same enjoyment as the Buddhas of the ten directions, with no difference whatsoever. If not, you are burying your own family treasure and betraying your own spirit. Following along and counting ink marks, vainly seeking on your own. The ancient virtuous ones said: "It is like riding a ox while looking for the ox—there is no such possibility." Therefore it is said: "Seeking it, I know you cannot see it."

You cannot grasp it, you cannot let it go. Yet within that very ungraspability, you attain it just as it is.

The radiant awareness is perfectly clear and reaches everywhere. All Buddhas awaken to it, yet they have never gained it. Sentient beings are deluded about it, yet they have never lost it. A traditional saying goes: Suppose a person is terrified of empty space and runs away. Though he runs, with every step he never leaves empty space. If he tries to find that space apart from where he is, he cannot get it at all. Therefore it is said: you cannot grasp it, and you cannot abandon it. "Within the ungraspable, just thus you attain it" — this essential teaching should be realized through hearing, reflection, and practice. The sutra says: The Buddha asked a monk, "In your household, what did you used to do?" He replied, "I used to play the lute." The Buddha said, "What happens when the strings are too loose?" He replied, "They do not sound." "What happens when the strings are too tight?" He replied, "The sound breaks off." "What happens when they are neither too tight nor too loose, just right?" He replied, "Then the pure sound is complete." The Buddha told the monk, "Studying the Path is the same. If the mind is well attuned, the Path can be attained." Therefore it is said: within the ungraspable, just thus you attain it. If you are a clear-eyed patch-robed monk, you should not raise this incorrectly.

Silent when speaking. Speaking when silent.

When silent, there is constant speaking. The silent teaching is the same as always speaking. A monk asked Touzi, "What is the Ten-Body Regulator?" Touzi got down from the Zen seat and stood. Tell me, what did he say? From this we know that in silence there is constant speaking, and in speaking there is constant silence. When the World-Honored One taught the Dharma, every sutra begins with a profound meaning, yet few people understand it. For example, the Diamond Sutra says: "At that time, the World-Honored One, at mealtime, put on his robe, took up his bowl, and entered the great city of Sravasti to beg for food. After begging in the city from door to door, he returned to his original place. When the meal was finished, he put away his robe and bowl, washed his feet, arranged his seat, and sat down. Then the Elder Subhuti, from among the great assembly, rose from his seat, bared his right shoulder, placed his right knee on the ground, joined his palms together respectfully, and spoke to the Buddha: 'Rare indeed, World-Honored One. The Tathagata skillfully protects and cares for the bodhisattvas, skillfully entrusts and instructs the bodhisattvas.'"

Again, the Perfect Enlightenment Sutra says: "At one time, the Bhagavan entered the samadhi of the great radiant treasury of spiritual powers, the true receptivity of all Tathagatas' luminous adornment and sustaining power. All living beings' pure enlightened awareness, their bodies and minds utterly still and equal in the original ground, perfectly pervading the ten directions, non-dual and harmonious — even in the non-dual realm he manifests pure lands."

The Surangama Sutra says: "Immediately the Tathagata arranged his seat and sat at ease, and for the sake of the assembly proclaimed the profound and mysterious. The pure multitude at the Dharma feast attained what they had never had before; the kalavinka's heavenly sound spread throughout the ten directions."

Thus we know that silence is constant speaking. As for speaking being constant silence: the entire great canon spoken by the golden mouth never uttered a single word. The sutra says: "From the night of attaining the Way until the river Hiranyavati, in between the two, he never spoke a single word." Tell me, in the end, is there speaking or no speaking? Therefore Tianyi said: "If you say there is speaking, you slander the Tathagata. If you say there is no speaking, a false view remains. If you can see through this point, then you may be called one who proclaims the ancestral style and upholds the patriarchal command."

The great gate of generosity is wide open, with nothing blocking the way.

The Buddhas appear in the world and teach the Dharma, universally enabling all sentient beings to attain Buddhahood. As great benefactors, they liberate sentient beings—hence it is said, "the great gate of giving opens." Furthermore, after all the Buddhas and patriarchs of India had each taught the Dharma for the benefit and joy of sentient beings, down to the patriarchs and the venerable elders throughout the land of Tang, who with skillful means devised various Dharma gates—thus Xuefeng rolled the ball, Shigong set up the arrow, Tianhuang served cakes, the National Teacher offered a bowl of water, Yunmen's three phrases, Dongshan's five ranks, Lingyun seeing the peach blossoms, Fayan penetrating sound and form, Shoushan's new bride, Daowu's spirit of music, Weishan's water buffalo, Fenyang's lion, Baizhang rolling up the mat, Juzhi's one finger—all these were the great gate of giving opening on the part of the good spiritual friends. The ancient virtuous ones said: "The entire ten-direction world is a single gate of liberation. Even if you grab people by the hand and pull them in, they will not enter. What obstruction is there?" Hence it is said, "the great gate of giving opens without obstruction."

Someone asks me what teaching I understand. I reply: the power of the Great Prajna.

If someone asks me what doctrine I expound, I answer: the power of Mahāprajñā. In Sanskrit, "Mahā" means great, abundant, and surpassing — this is a case of retaining the original term because it carries multiple meanings rather than translating it. In Sanskrit, "Prajñā" means wisdom — this is a case of not translating because it produces goodness. When we speak of Mahāprajñā: by believing and understanding it, one's stage becomes equal to that of the patriarchs; by receiving and upholding it, one's merit covers humans and devas. Therefore the tradition says: know that Prajñā is the guide on the path of good and evil, the bright torch in a darkened room, the wise oar across the sea of birth and death, the skillful physician for the illness of afflictions, the great wind that shatters the mountain of wrong views, the fierce general who vanquishes the army of Māra, the blazing sun that illuminates the shadowy paths, the swift thunder that awakens the deluded mind, the golden lancet that removes the cataract of ignorance, the sweet dew that quenches the thirst of craving, the sword of wisdom that cuts through the net of doubt, the wish-fulfilling jewel that supplies the destitute. If Prajñā is not clear, all practices are established in vain. Therefore it is called the power of Mahāprajñā.

Whether someone is right or wrong, ordinary people cannot tell. Whether they go against or along with the world, even the gods cannot fathom it.

Once the power of prajñā is brought before you, you enter the world with a heart of great compassion, extending your hand to help beings and benefit living things. Whether you act freely in all directions or engage in various activities, all of it becomes Buddha-work. It is like Jīvaka gathering herbs: whatever he picks up with his hand becomes a wondrous medicine. Therefore the sutra says: “Whether mindful or unmindful, all is liberation. Whether establishing Dharma or breaking Dharma, all is called nirvāṇa. Wisdom and foolishness alike are prajñā. The dharmas accomplished by bodhisattvas and non-Buddhists are equally bodhi. Ignorance and suchness are not different realms. Precepts, concentration, and wisdom, along with lust, anger, and delusion, are all pure conduct.” Therefore it is said: “Whether right or wrong, people do not recognize it. Whether walking against or with the flow, even heaven cannot fathom it.”

I have cultivated for many kalpas since long ago. I am not casually deceiving or deluding you.

Yongjia himself said: "Now I receive the Dharma and use it with perfect freedom." Surely this is due to a latent karmic disposition for prajñā from past lives — how could it be a casual matter of the present? Let me try to discuss this. The Buddha's path is long and far; only after enduring diligent hardship for a long time can it be accomplished. Yet Yongjia had barely gone to Caoxi when he awakened to prajñā and was able to teach the Dharma and benefit people. Suppose someone were to raise a challenging question to me, I would reply: it is not that I have cultivated only in this present life — indeed, it is not merely three, four, or five kalpas of practicing prajñā. Therefore it is said to be cultivated over many kalpas. Since it is cultivation over many kalpas, it is not something casual, nor words meant to deceive and confuse you. Therefore it is said: it is not a casual matter of deceiving and confusing.

Set up the Dharma banner; establish the essential teaching. Clearly, the Buddha's decree is Caoxi.

The appearance of the Buddhas in the world, and even the appearance of the old monks of the world, is all the raising of a great Dharma banner and the setting up of a teaching.

The clear record of the Buddha's command to Caoxi is this: the patriarchs transmitted the teaching from the Western lands to this land, and the transmission reached the Sixth Patriarch. What he established had already become a Dharma seat. This was not only the Buddhas' hidden empowerment and a prophecy received in a former life, drawing him onward to carry out the great work. Rather, it was directly transmitted from our Buddha Shakyamuni Tathagata's mind-seal down to Caoxi. Therefore it is called the clear record of the Buddha's command to Caoxi.

As for the "Dharma banner": a banner means something set up and established. Thus we know that to establish the Dharma banner is truly no small matter. The Buddhas appear in the world for the one great causal purpose, and it is all for this. Bodhisattvas beyond measure, carrying the fruit and practicing the cause, also do so for this. Even the followers of the Two Vehicles, inwardly storing the Bodhisattva practice while outwardly appearing as hearers, also do so for this. And even Brahma kings leading from the front and Indra following behind also do so for this.

Every sutra takes one Dharma as its master and the many dharmas as its companions, and each establishes the other. Therefore the text below clarifies the meaning of the Dharma banner established in Western India and in this land.

The first was Mahakashyapa, who received the lamp of transmission as the head. The record of the twenty-eight generations in the Western Heaven.

It began when the World-Honored One was at the assembly on Vulture Peak. With a glance of his blue lotus eyes and a faint smile toward Mahakashyapa, he said, "I have the treasury of the true Dharma eye, which I entrust to Mahakashyapa." This was the very first transmission of the Dharma. Therefore it is called the First Transmission of the Lamp.

As for the record of the twenty-eight generations in the Western Heavens: the First Patriarch Mahakashyapa transmitted to the Second Patriarch Ananda. Ananda transmitted to the Third Patriarch Shanavasa. Shanavasa transmitted to the Fourth Patriarch Upagupta. Upagupta transmitted to the Fifth Patriarch Dhritaka. Dhritaka transmitted to the Sixth Patriarch Michaka. Michaka transmitted to the Seventh Patriarch Vasumitra. Vasumitra transmitted to the Eighth Patriarch Buddhanandi. Buddhanandi transmitted to the Ninth Patriarch Buddhamitra. Buddhamitra transmitted to the Tenth Patriarch Parshva. Parshva transmitted to the Eleventh Patriarch Punyayashas. Punyayashas transmitted to the Twelfth Patriarch Ashvaghosha. Ashvaghosha transmitted to the Thirteenth Patriarch Kapimala. Kapimala transmitted to the Fourteenth Patriarch Nagarjuna. Nagarjuna transmitted to the Fifteenth Patriarch Kanadeva. Kanadeva transmitted to the Sixteenth Patriarch Rahulata. Rahulata transmitted to the Seventeenth Patriarch Sanghanandi. Sanghanandi transmitted to the Eighteenth Patriarch Gayashata. Gayashata transmitted to the Nineteenth Patriarch Kumarata. Kumarata transmitted to the Twentieth Patriarch Jayata. Jayata transmitted to the Twenty-First Patriarch Vasubandhu. Vasubandhu transmitted to the Twenty-Second Patriarch Manura. Manura transmitted to the Twenty-Third Patriarch Haklenayashas. Haklenayashas transmitted to the Twenty-Fourth Patriarch Simha. Simha transmitted to the Twenty-Fifth Patriarch Shashavasu. Shashavasu transmitted to the Twenty-Sixth Patriarch Punyamitra. Punyamitra transmitted to the Twenty-Seventh Patriarch Prajnapatra. Prajnapatra transmitted to the Twenty-Eighth Patriarch Bodhidharma. Therefore it is called the Record of the Twenty-Eight Generations in the Western Heavens.

He crossed rivers and seas and came to this land. Bodhidharma was the first patriarch.

The Sanskrit name Bodhidharma means "Dharma of Awakening." In the West (India), he was the twenty-eighth patriarch; in this land (China), he became the first patriarch. He was originally the third prince of King Xiangzhi in the country of South India. He encountered the twenty-seventh patriarch, who recognized his hidden potential and brought his mind's essence to realization. The patriarch then gave him a prediction: "You should not travel far yet. Remain in South India for now. After I pass away sixty-seven years hence, you should go to China and greatly spread the Buddha's work. When you reach the South, do not stay there. They only delight in conditioned merits and do not perceive the Buddha's truth. Even if you go there, you must not remain long." He also heard the patriarch's verse:

"Walking the road, you cross water and meet a sheep, Alone and sorrowful, you secretly cross the river. Beneath the sun, pitiful are the pair of elephants and horses, Two tender cassia trees flourish long and bright."

In his own country, the Master used the power of his insight to refute the six schools of wrong views. He had the Dharma teachers abandon the small and return to the great. The first was the School of Characteristics, the second the School of No-Characteristics, the third the School of Concentration and Wisdom, the fourth the School of Precepts, the fifth the School of Non-Attainment, and the sixth the School of Stillness. Each had sealed its own understanding and separately spread its own teachings. Their settlements were many and their followers exceedingly numerous. The Great Master sighed deeply and said, "Even a single teacher among them has already fallen into the ox's footprint. How much more so when they are fragmented and flourishing, split into six schools? If I do not eliminate this, they will forever be entangled in wrong views." He explained the essential teachings of each one, and each came to know they had nothing to rely on. Then they returned to the source and awakened.

The Great Master's learning encompassed the Three Baskets, and he especially devoted himself to the practice of concentration. He set aside what he did not know. The Master crossed the sea from South India, and after three years of travel, on the twenty-first day of the ninth month of the eighth year of Putong, he arrived in Guangzhou. The governor Xiao Ang reported this to Emperor Wu. When the emperor read the memorial, he sent an envoy with an imperial edict to welcome and invite him. On the first day of the tenth month, he arrived in Jinling.

The emperor asked, "Since I ascended the throne, I have built temples, copied scriptures, and ordained monks beyond counting. What merit is there in this?"

The Master said, "These are merely small fruits of humans and celestials, causes still tainted by outflows. They follow like shadow follows form; though they exist, they are not real."

The emperor asked, "What then is true merit?"

The Master said, "Pure wisdom, wondrous and perfect, whose essence is by nature empty and still. Such merit cannot be sought through worldly means."

The emperor asked, "What is the highest meaning of the noble truth?"

The Master said, "Vast and open, nothing is noble."

The emperor asked, "Who is it that stands before me?"

The Master said, "I do not know."

The emperor did not understand. The Master knew the conditions were not aligned. On the nineteenth day of that month, he secretly returned north across the river. On the twenty-third day of the eleventh month, he arrived in Luoyang. This was later, in the tenth year of Taihe of Emperor Xiaoming of Wei. He took up residence at Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, sitting facing a wall. All day long he remained silent, and no one could fathom him. He is the first patriarch of the Chan school.

The transmission of the robe through six generations was heard throughout the world; how countless are those who later attained the Path.

After the Master had spent nine years at Shaoshi Mountain, he had not yet found a kindred spirit. At that time there was a monk named Shenguang, a man of broad and free spirit. He had long lived in the region of Yi and Luo, had read widely in all kinds of books, and was skilled in discussing profound principles. He often sighed and said, "The teachings of Confucius and Laozi concern rituals, arts, customs, and norms; the books of Zhuangzi and the Yijing do not exhaust the subtle truth. I have recently heard that the great master Bodhidharma is staying at Shaolin. The supremely accomplished one is not far away; I should go there and enter the profound realm." So he went to that place and attended upon him morning and evening. The Master always sat upright facing the wall, and no instruction or encouragement was heard from him. Shenguang thought to himself, "People in ancient times sought the Path by knocking open their bones to extract marrow, piercing their blood to relieve hunger, spreading their hair to cover mud, and throwing themselves off a cliff to feed a tiger. The ancients still did such things—who am I to do less?" On the night of the ninth day of the twelfth month of that year, heaven sent down heavy rain and snow. Shenguang stood firm and did not move. By dawn the accumulated snow had passed his knees. The Master, out of compassion, asked him, "You have stood in the snow for a long time—what are you seeking?" Shenguang, with sorrowful tears, said, "I only pray that the Master, in Compassion, will open the gate of sweet dew and broadly save the many beings." The Master said, "The supreme wondrous Path of all Buddhas is attained through vast kalpas of diligent effort, by doing what is hard to do and enduring what cannot be endured. How could one, with small virtue and small wisdom, with a frivolous mind and arrogant mind, hope for the true Vehicle? Such effort would be in vain." When Shenguang heard the Master's instruction, he secretly took a sharp knife and cut off his own left arm, placing it before the Master. The Master knew he was a vessel for the Dharma, and so said, "When all Buddhas first sought the Path, they forgot their bodies for the sake of the Dharma. Now you have cut off your arm before me; your seeking may also be accepted." Thereupon he changed his name to Huike. Shenguang said, "May I hear the Dharma seal of all Buddhas?" The Master said, "The Dharma seal of all Buddhas is not obtained from others." Shenguang said, "My mind is not yet at peace. I beg the Master to settle it for me." The Master said, "Bring me your mind, and I will settle it for you." Shenguang said, "When I seek the mind, it is utterly unobtainable." The Master said, "I have settled your mind for you." From this he awakened and entered, and so became the Second Patriarch. What is meant by the transmission of the robe through six generations is this: once the Second Patriarch received it from the First Patriarch, each passed on the robe and bowl in succession. The First Patriarch transmitted the robe from India to this land of the East to serve as a token of that faith. By the time of the Sixth Patriarch at Caoxi, the Path was already being practiced, so the robe was no longer transmitted—only the Dharma was transmitted. Bodhidharma transmitted to Huike, Huike to Sengcan, Sengcan to Daoxin, Daoxin to Hongren, and Hongren to Huineng. Huineng is the Sixth Patriarch, the great master of Caoxi. His Path spread widely throughout the world, and this is called the transmission of the robe through six generations, heard throughout the world. After that, those who attained the Path were too many to count. Therefore it is said, "Those who become Buddhas and patriarchs fill the earth and cover the heavens; those who practice Zen and study the Path are as numerous as hemp and millet." Thus it is said, "How could the number of those who later attained the Path ever be exhausted?"

The real does not stand apart, and the false is originally empty. Both existence and nonexistence are let go, and even that emptiness is not held onto as emptiness.

The real does not stand, and the false is likewise empty by nature. This is precisely because the real and the false originally have no self-nature: the false is established on account of the real, and the real is established on account of the false. As the ancient masters said, "The real alone cannot stand; the false alone is hard to establish." "Both being and non-being are dispelled together": being and non-being also stand in mutual dependence. Now that both are dispelled together, even the non-empty is empty. Therefore it is said, "Both being and non-being are dispelled together, and the non-empty is empty." In these several lines, the Great Master wished to reveal this Dharma, and so set forth together the notions of real and false, being and non-being.

The twenty approaches to Emptiness are fundamentally unattached; The Tathāgata's single nature is in essence naturally the same.

The twenty kinds of Emptiness: the Tathagata used them to refute twenty kinds of views that cling to existence, and so twenty names of Emptiness were formed. Thus the Great Prajna Sutra says: the Emptiness of the inner, the Emptiness of the outer, the Emptiness of both inner and outer, the Emptiness of Emptiness, the Great Emptiness, the Emptiness of ultimate meaning, the Emptiness of the conditioned, the Emptiness of the unconditioned, the Emptiness of the ultimate, the Emptiness of the boundless, the Emptiness of dispersal, the Emptiness of no change, the Emptiness of intrinsic nature, the Emptiness of own characteristics, the Emptiness of shared characteristics, the Emptiness of all dharmas, the Emptiness of the unobtainable, the Emptiness of no nature, the Emptiness of self-nature, and the Emptiness of no-nature and self-nature. Although there are twenty names of Emptiness, their essence is but one Dharma. Now, to clarify that the principle of the Dharma-nature is not the same as these twenty kinds of Emptiness, it is said to be "originally unattached." "The one nature of the Tathagata is itself the same": this utterly transcends the sixty-two kinds of mistaken views of non-Buddhists, and at once merges with the wondrous mind of Prajna and Nirvana; therefore it is said, "its essence is itself the same."

The mind is the root; phenomena are dust. The two are like smudges on a mirror.

The mind is the root. "Root" means that which can produce. It is precisely because this mind can produce all wholesome and unwholesome dharmas that it is called the root. Dharmas are dust. Although dharmas can uphold and maintain all things, they are like a wondrous medicine: once the illness is cured, the medicine is of no further use. Thus dharmas are dust. Both of these dharmas have obstructive qualities that prevent the mind's light from shining through, like marks upon a mirror. Therefore it is said: root and dust stand in opposition, clouding the mind's light; returning to the source and clarifying the mind comes about precisely through this.

Once defilements and stains are completely removed, the light finally appears. When both mind and phenomena are transcended, the true nature is revealed.

When the stains of defilement are entirely gone, both mind and dharmas cease to exist. Naturally, the mind's light shines through completely, and one clearly sees the Buddha-nature. An ancient master said: "When a single cataract is in the eye, illusory flowers fill the whole world. When a single delusion is in the mind, birth and death arise as numerous as sand in the Ganges. When the cataract dissolves, the flowers vanish; when delusion is extinguished, true reality is realized. When the illness is cured, the medicine is removed; when the ice melts, the water remains. A single elixir pill turns iron into gold. A single word of ultimate truth transforms an ordinary person into a sage." Therefore it is said: the nature itself is true.

Alas, in the Dharma-ending age, in this evil time, living beings have thin blessings and are hard to tame.

"Alas" is an exclamation of lament. The World-Honored One appeared in the world and turned the great Dharma wheel, benefiting sentient beings. The True Dharma lasted a thousand years, the Semblance Dharma a thousand years, and the Dharma-Ending Age ten thousand years. The Great Master appeared in the world right during the Semblance Dharma. Lamenting thus so early — how much more so today. Therefore it says: "Alas, the Dharma-Ending Age, an evil time, when beings are thin in merit and hard to tame and guide." In the final age, those who spread the Path do not understand the great purport; each guards his own sect and clings firmly to one another's views — all of it becomes a disease of the Dharma. This can be seen in the passages that follow.

Far from the sages, wrong views run deep. Mara is strong, the Dharma is weak, and there is much hostility and harm.

Though far removed from the Sage, wrong views only grow deeper, and people instead give rise to resentment and harm toward the true Dharma. That is why Bodhidharma came from the West, knocking out his teeth and swallowing poison. Even a sage teacher was like this—how much more so a teacher of ordinary people?

Whenever Buddhas appear in the world, they all rouse kindness and bring forth compassion to receive beings and benefit the living. But when demons are strong and the Dharma is weak, people do not recognize the virtue of the sage’s mind. Moreover, nowadays the world has enjoyed peace for a long time. Kings and great ministers have received the Buddha’s entrustment and uphold and protect the Three Jewels. Dharma assemblies flourish in all regions. Those who have left home should give rise to the thought of how hard it is to meet this opportunity, seek out and investigate the wise, decisively discern birth and death, and thereby seek liberation. Repaying the four kinds of kindness is exactly what is appropriate.

Yet among them there are also those who, though they study the Buddha-Dharma, do not know there is a separate transmission outside the teachings. There are also those who, occupying noble positions, forget what they cultivated in former lives and become obstacles to the Buddha-Dharma. There are also those who, though they transmit and uphold the Buddha-Dharma, attack one another because their schools and factions differ. All these are demonic affairs within the Dharma gate; none of them are truly accomplished people. One who is a genuine person of this matter will certainly not be like this.

Therefore Guifeng said: “Under all the schools there are those who have penetrated. Yet each settles into what they have learned; those who understand are few, while those who are limited are many. They take what they have received as their door and window, and each opens it wide. They take the sutras and treatises as spears and shields, and attack one another. Their feelings hold to fit and misfit, and so they shift and change. The Dharma follows self and other, and so it becomes high or low. This causes right and wrong to be tangled in confusion, with no one able to distinguish or analyze it.” Hence it is said: “When demons are strong and the Dharma is weak, there is much resentment and harm.”

Hearing of the Tathagata's sudden teaching, I only wish I could destroy it, grind it to dust.

The Tathagata appears in the world for the sole purpose of one great matter. In this world there are demon kings who, although they live at the same time as the Buddha, do not believe in the perfect and sudden Dharma-gate. Whatever the Buddha teaches, they slander entirely, and they wish nothing more than to wipe it out and shatter it like roof tiles. Among people in the world, there are those without the capacity for the Great Vehicle, who likewise do not believe in the Dharma-gate of awakening and entry. Even among those within the Buddhist order, though they have left home in body, some still do not believe it themselves — and so such people exist. The ancient virtuous ones said: one cannot speak of no flowers in the sky to someone with clouded eyes; one cannot speak of no ghosts before someone mad with illness. Words spent on emptiness will simply not be accepted with faith. Only when the eye is clear and the mind at peace will one know for oneself.

When the deed is done in the mind, the misfortune falls upon the body. There is no need to complain or blame others further.

The immeasurable and boundless karma created by people in this world is all made by the deluded mind. Therefore it is said, "The doing is in the mind." The immeasurable bitter fruits it brings forth—the various forms of hell-beings, animals, hungry ghosts, and so on—receive all kinds of suffering. The ancient masters said: "Bearing saddles and swallowing iron—for whom do you come? In times past it was only because the mind went astray." Therefore it is said, "The calamity is on the body." All of this is self-made and self-received, not caused by anyone else. Therefore it is said, "You need not complain or blame others further." The suffering of this world lasts only one lifetime, but the suffering of hell has no end. Sword trees, knife mountains, and all kinds of suffering beyond description—when one has finished enduring them here and the world is destroyed, one moves on to another hell to receive punishment. When that karma is exhausted, one is born again as an animal, a donkey, or a horse—none other than oneself. It is simply self-made and self-received.

To avoid incurring the karma of the Uninterrupted Hell, never slander the Tathagata's wheel of the true Dharma.

The sin of slandering the Dharma is no small offense. The karma of reviling the Prajna teachings causes one to fall into hell. This too is not a light matter. These hells are all Avici hells—that is, the most severe of hells. The duration of time is immeasurably long, measured in kalpas. The retribution for slandering the Dharma is not limited to one form. As recorded in the scriptures, one may become a nine-headed turtle, or suffer from white leprosy, and so on. This is because all Buddhas of the ten directions, when they appear in the world, praise the wondrous Dharma of the One Vehicle. All Buddhas of the ten directions attain supreme perfect Enlightenment through realizing the Dharma. To instead slander it is a grave offense. Therefore it is said: do not slander the true Dharma-wheel of the Tathagata.

The sandalwood grove has no other kinds of trees; dense and deep, it is where the lions dwell.

The sandalwood grove is a metaphor for the singular, wondrous realm of true reality. "No other trees" means no admixture of lesser capacities or provisional positions. "Dense and deep" — "dense" describes luxuriant growth, "deep" describes secluded depth. "Where lions dwell" is a metaphor for the realm of Dharma-nature, in which only Great Vehicle bodhisattvas abide; humans, gods, and those of lesser capacity cannot know it. Thus we know that supreme prajna is only for those of superior faculties and superior aspiration; those of middling and inferior capacity find it hard to awaken and enter. Therefore it is said: "In the sandalwood grove, no other trees; dense, deep, and where lions dwell."

In a quiet place, in a tranquil forest, I wander alone. The beasts of the wild and the birds of the air have all gone far away.

The great Path of non-action can only be walked by Mahayana Bodhisattvas. Followers of the lesser vehicles and those practicing at provisional stages cannot set foot on it. The lion represents the Mahayana Bodhisattva. The running beasts and flying birds represent the lesser capacities of humans, celestial beings, and the two vehicles. This is why, in the Lotus Sutra, five thousand people withdrew from the assembly, unable to bear this matter. The single true wondrous realm is traveled only by those of superior capacity; those of middling and lower grades can hardly fathom it. Therefore it is said: The realm is still, the forest quiet — one walks alone; the running beasts and flying birds all go far away.

The lion's cub follows the pack. By three years old, it can already roar loudly.

What is called a "lion's cub" is a simile for a bodhisattva who, at the very moment of first arousing the aspiration for enlightenment, immediately attains supreme perfect enlightenment, surpassing the listeners, the solitary realizers, and the followers of the lesser vehicles. That is why it is said that the multitude follows behind. "Three years old" represents a person who has seen their true nature and perfectly cultivates the three aspects of the Dharma. The wise one says: "Emptiness" dissolves all phenomena; "the provisional" establishes all phenomena; "the middle" perfects all phenomena. Emptiness is not fixed as emptiness—where there is emptiness, that very reality is immediately the middle and the provisional. The provisional is not fixed as provisional—where there is the provisional, that very reality is immediately emptiness and the middle. The middle is not fixed as the middle—where there is the middle, that very reality is immediately emptiness and the provisional. These three aspects are neither sequential nor parallel, neither combined nor separate. In one place they are always three; in three places they are always one. Therefore it is said: the three truths, the three contemplations, the three that are not three; the three and the one, the one and the three, have no fixed ground to rest on. The names "truth" and "contemplation" are distinct, yet their essence is the same. Thus subject and object are two and yet not two. Those who awaken and enter this perfectly realize the three aspects of the Dharma, and whatever Dharma teachings they expound are all the middle way and ultimate reality. That is why it is said that at three years old it can already let out a great lion's roar.

Even if a wild jackal follows the Dharma King, a hundred years of being a phantom spirit will still leave it howling into empty air.

The jackal represents ordinary people and the followers of the Two Vehicles. The lion represents the bodhisattvas of the Great Vehicle. Bodhisattvas deeply awaken to the nature of the Dharma; from the very moment they first arouse the aspiration, they attain perfect enlightenment, and every Dharma teaching they expound is entirely in accord with that nature. Followers of the Two Vehicles, ordinary people, and all those at the provisional stages of practice who cannot clearly see the Buddha-nature—the teachings they expound do not illuminate the ultimate principle of true reality. They are like a hundred thousand monsters and goblins opening their mouths wide and babbling to no purpose—ultimately there is nothing to be gained from it. Therefore it is said: "A hundred thousand monsters and goblins open their mouths wide and babble to no purpose."

The Perfect and Sudden Teaching — do not let human sentiment sway you. When doubt remains unsettled, you must speak up and contend with it.

"Perfect" means complete and full. "Sudden" means not gradual or step-by-step. "Teaching" means to model or emulate. The sages provided the following passages, which take expounding the truth and transforming beings as their meaning. The perfect and sudden teaching does not rely on gradual stages; it leaps directly into the realm of Buddhahood. The tradition says: it is like a crown prince who possesses the virtue of kingly righteousness, or like the kalavinka bird whose voice surpasses all other birds. As for "do not let it become a matter of human sentiment" — "do not" here means "the multitude." If any sentient being has doubts that remain unresolved, they must simply bring them to clear understanding. This is not a worldly study; because the matter of birth and death is great, it is truly no easy thing. Therefore the following text clarifies its causes and effects.

It is not that this mountain monk is asserting self against others. In spiritual practice, one must be careful not to fall into the pit of nihilism or eternalism.

This is Yongjia speaking of himself. How could it be that this mountain monk is letting his mind run wild with thoughts of self and others? It is only out of deep concern that in times to come, all sentient beings who set their minds on spiritual practice within the Dharma-gates might apply their minds mistakenly, and fall into the two views of annihilationism and eternalism. Because these two views can trap people, they are called a pit—like a pit or trench in the world. In India there were ninety-six kinds of non-Buddhist teachers, none of whom escaped these views. Thus the Lotus Sutra says: "Whether they hold to existence or to nonexistence and the like, relying on such views, they complete the sixty-two." This is exactly what it means.

Not wrong, not not-wrong. Is, yet is not. A hair's-breadth difference, and you miss it by a thousand miles.

What is not false is not false, and what is true is true: this is simply to make the characteristics of falsehood and truth completely clear, so that they cannot be confused. What is not false—is it not precisely false? It is truly false. What is true—is it not precisely true? It is truly true. Even though falsehood and truth have no fixed master, one must not be muddled about Buddha-nature or vague about Suchness. "A difference of a hair's breadth misses by a thousand miles": among hairs, the long one is called hao; a 𣯛 is ten 𣯛 making one hao. If one deviates by the space of a hair, then one misses by a thousand or ten thousand miles. Therefore the following text deeply clarifies the characteristics of falsehood and truth.

Thus the dragon girl instantly attained Buddhahood, while Sunakshatra fell alive into hell.

The dragon girl and Good Star reveal the marks of the true and the false.

Long ago, at the assembly on Vulture Peak, there was a dragon girl who offered a precious pearl to the Buddha. The World-Honored One accepted it and thereupon taught the Dharma for her. She awakened to the acceptance of non-arising and immediately went to the Stainless World in the south, where she sat upon a jeweled lotus and attained perfect enlightenment, bearing the title Tathagata Flower Radiance.

As for the false: Good Star sank into the earth alive. Long ago there was a monk named Good Star who memorized the scriptures carried by eighteen fragrant elephants, yet he sank alive into hell. This means that without seeing the Buddha-nature, his teaching of the Dharma instead became slander and blasphemy. Thus there is a warning here.

In my early years I accumulated learning. I also studied commentaries and searched through the sutras and treatises.

Now, to clarify the power of formlessness, we must first understand the principle of form. In his youth, the Great Master traveled through various lecture halls, listening to the teachings and contemplative practices of Tiantai Zhiyi. He was deeply versed in the sutras and treatises, accumulating learning and extensively seeking knowledge. A former worthy said: "For the first five years after ordination, one should carefully study the Vinaya, and thoroughly master the sutras and treatises. Only then should one seek out teachers to resolve the matter of birth and death." This is the sequence for entering the Path. Unless one has carried seeds of practice and the power of vows from former lives, few can fulfill all of this. All the sages from ancient times have been like this. Patriarch Bodhidharma's learning encompassed the Three Baskets, yet he devoted himself especially to the practice of concentration—not because he was ignorant of the rest. Later students cannot match this, and instead turn it into slander. This is deeply wrong. It is like a fish trap and a snare: once the fish and rabbit are caught, the trap and snare can be forgotten. This will become clear in the following text.

Distinguishing names and forms without ever resting, entering the sea to count sand—only wearing yourself out.

How could the study of sutras and treatises ever be a fault? They are spoken from the golden mouth of our Buddha, the Tathāgata himself. In countless lands, even the name cannot be heard — how much less can one see it? So we know: the teachings do not delude people; people delude themselves about the teachings.

The ancient masters said: To read the sutras, one must have the eye for reading sutras. If that eye is not clear, one is instead dazzled by names and forms. Not plumbing the mind-ground, one merely hears much. Therefore it is said:

Though one studies widely, it still becomes greed. Who turns back and understands, to feel shame for himself? Wandering alone, vainly playing the traveler in a foreign land, The original family style — one does not bear its burden. It is like entering the sea to count sand — one only traps oneself.

yet the Tathagata sternly rebuked them: "What benefit is there in counting another's treasures?"

The Tathagata rebuked those who merely hear much. Though they may hear much, they do not attain realization. As the scripture says, "It is like a person counting another's treasures—he himself has not even half a coin." Since these are not his own treasures, though he counts all day long and knows their number, he cannot put them to use. What benefit is that to himself? Therefore it is said: "It is like talking about medicine all day while being afflicted by serious illness; it is like asking about the road for many years without moving a single step." Those who, having caught the fish, forget the trap—such people are rarely encountered. Those who take the finger as the moon—of such people there are truly many. This is the meaning.

For so long I have been stumbling along, realizing I was traveling in vain. For many years I have pointlessly lived as a weary wanderer of the world.

"Ever since coming" means from beginningless time. "Stumbling along" describes being unable to make progress on the way. "Walking in vain" means wandering without having reached any stage or ground. From beginningless time until today, passing through the perilous road of birth and death, only wearying oneself in vain, one has never once set foot on solid ground on the road to Nirvana. Therefore it is said, "Awakening to walking in vain."

For many years, one has needlessly played the part of a traveler in the dust and wind. It is like a person of the world tossed about like a tumbleweed, north and south, while the hometown a thousand miles away grows ever more distant—needlessly playing the part of a guest in the dust and wind. An ancient worthy said: "Before the gate there are endless roads; who is the one who has reached home?"

Their nature is misguided, their understanding is mistaken; they do not grasp the Tathagata's perfect and sudden teaching.

Those who do not take refuge in the Three Treasures—in India there were ninety-six kinds of non-Buddhist teachers, and those who followed false teachers gave rise to all sorts of wrong views—this is what is meant by mistaken understanding. Because they fail to penetrate the Tathagata's Dharma-gate of the mind-ground, we know that they undergo immeasurable birth and death throughout immeasurable kalpas, all because of the teachings of false teachers. Because they never encounter what the Bodhisattvas of the perfect and sudden Great Vehicle teach, the treatise says: "Better to endure the suffering of hell and hear the names of the Buddhas, than to enjoy immeasurable bliss and never hear the Buddha's name." For throughout past immeasurable kalpas they have suffered, transmigrating through birth and death, never hearing the Buddha's name. That they never hear the Buddha's name is entirely because they meet false teachers.

The Two Vehicles' diligence lacks the mind set on the Path. Non-Buddhist practitioners have cleverness but no wisdom.

People of the Two Vehicles practice diligently, cutting off the views and afflictions of the Three Realms, and passing through seven returns among humans and heavenly beings. The methods of practice they go through are by no means lacking in diligence. Yet they drink the wine of quiescent cessation and lie on the bed of Nirvana, never giving rise to the mind of great compassion or cultivating the practices that benefit others—receiving beings and benefiting living creatures. This is the mind without the Path. Among non-Buddhist seekers there are the clever but unwise: the non-Buddhists of India have scholars of the utmost cleverness who can recite the four Vedic scriptures, yet they do not understand the Buddha-nature. Thus Hanshan said: There are many in the world who are clever, who foolishly study and play with words; they do not worry about future results, knowing only how to create evil causes. Seeing the Buddha, they do not know to pay respect; seeing monks, they grow even more angry. People of the five heinous crimes and ten evil deeds, with the three poisons as their neighbors—when they die they enter hell, with no time to escape. Clever scholars ancient and modern are driven by worldly wisdom, and some indeed do not believe in Prajñā. The ancient virtuous one said: Li Bai and Li Si were unmatched in literary learning, yet neither encountered the Buddha's prophecy. How many have vainly wasted their clever minds, never breaking through birth and death in the end? The sages of old showed compassion like this—how could they not have known?

Foolish and dull-witted, they take a clenched fist as truly holding something.

An adult lacking wisdom is called foolish; a small child lacking wisdom is called ignorant. "Grasping something real in an empty fist and finger" means that foolish people and small children wrongly take the empty fist and finger to be something truly existent — like mistaking a yellow leaf for money and believing it to be real. The Tathāgata, the Great Teacher, expounded the entire scriptural teaching of the Tripiṭaka, all out of great compassion, freely radiating light through effortless wondrous wisdom according to circumstances. Sometimes he taught the existence of dharmas, sometimes the emptiness of dharmas; sometimes he taught sudden or gradual, sometimes partial or complete, sometimes indeterminate — using various names and characteristics, each according to circumstances, so that each might gain understanding. Those of small capacity, following the words, generate attachment on their own and fail to see the Buddha-nature. This is just like grasping something real in an empty fist and finger. The passage below again provides a simile to make this clear.

Mistaking a finger for the moon, one applies effort in vain. Within the dharmas of the senses and their objects, one falsely conjures up marvels.

If you mistake the finger for the moon, you are not only confused about the moon, you are also confused about the finger — because you take the finger to be the moon. The sutra says: "The sutra teachings are like a finger pointing at the moon. Once you see the moon, you understand that what was pointed at is ultimately not the moon." Students of the Path are like this as well. If you take the teachings to be the Buddha-nature, you are not only confused about the Buddha-nature, you are also confused about the teachings — because you take the teachings to be the Buddha-nature, and so you waste your effort and practice in vain. Know then that those of middling and lesser capacity, if they lack the seed of Great Vehicle prajna, cannot enter the Buddha's knowledge and vision. The trouble lies in the three factors of faculty, object, and consciousness, and in the dharmas of the eighteen realms. Therefore it is said: within the dharmas of faculty and object, one falsely conjures up monsters.

Only when one sees no single thing as the Tathagata can one truly be called Avalokiteshvara.

This single sentence is Yongjia straining with all his might to drag you right up to the gate—all that is missing is for you to lift your foot and step in.

Long ago there was an elder of great virtue who, while reading the Lotus Sutra, came to the line "All dharmas, from the very beginning, are ever by nature in the mark of still quiescence." He was delighted and kept his attention on it, constantly investigating it. So it was that in walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, in speaking and in silence, in every action and movement, in picking up a spoon and setting down a chopstick—in none of it did he fail to investigate. Yet he gained nothing at all.

Then in the second month of spring, one day as he happened to be leaning on the railing, sitting at ease, he heard an oriole singing in a tree, and in an instant he was awakened. Reflecting on his former karmic encounter, he continued his earlier verse:

All dharmas, from the very beginning, Are ever by nature in the mark of still quiescence. Spring is warm, a hundred flowers are red; The yellow oriole cries atop the willow.

By this we may see that when the words of the venerable masters, ancient and modern, are clearly understood in their purport, and one seeks a teacher's seal of approval, then in whatever one applies them there is no obstruction. This is what is meant by being rightly named "the one who observes freely" (Avalokiteśvara).

Once you understand, karmic obstacles are empty from the very beginning. Until you understand, you must still repay your karmic debts from former lives.

Understanding that the natures of sin and merit are empty, there is no obstruction. If a person gives rise to the mind that returns to the source, the ten directions' worlds all vanish — how much more so the appearances of sin and merit? Therefore Master Sengzhao said: "The body of the five aggregates is not existent; the four great elements are originally empty. Facing a white blade with one's head — it is like cutting the spring wind." This is that karmic obstacles are originally empty. But if one does not awaken to this and clings to dharmas without letting go, cause-and-effect dharmas are like form and shadow. Even after a hundred thousand kalpas, karma once done is not forgotten; when causes and conditions meet, one still receives the fruit oneself. Therefore it is said: as long as one has not understood, one must still repay past debts.

When starving, even if you meet a king's feast, you cannot eat it. When sick, even if you meet a skilled physician, how can you be cured?

For forty-nine years, he opened the gates of skillful means and revealed the true reality. The various Dharma methods he taught were to guide living beings with the power of great compassion and vows. Yet living beings themselves were unable to awaken and enter. It is like a starving person in the world who encounters a royal feast—food spread out before him for ten feet, every delicacy of land and sea fully prepared, all kinds of fine flavors—yet at the sight of it, he gives rise to fear and does not dare to eat. Or again, like a person long ill who suddenly meets a skilled physician like the medicine kings Lu and Bian Que—he inevitably gives rise to doubt and hesitation, and cannot bring himself to take the wonderful medicine. Thus we know that his illness cannot be cured.

Practicing meditation while living amid desires, with the power of knowing and insight, is like a lotus blooming in fire — it never is destroyed.

Those who practice pure Meditation (Dhyāna) within the Desire Realm do so through the power of their prajñā insight. A monk asked an ancient master: "The Desire Realm has no meditation—why then, great one, do you speak of there being meditation?" The ancient master replied: "Ācārya, you only know that the Desire Realm has no meditation; you do not know that the Realm of Meditation has no desire. You should understand that the three realms all exist solely because of the one mind." The sutra says: "Extinguish the three poisons, transcend the three realms, and shatter the net of Māra." Now, when the text speaks of the power of insight, it means that once the mind clearly sees the Buddha-nature, then everywhere becomes the work of the Buddha. Why speak of reaching the Desire Realm? Therefore it speaks of the power of insight.

Yongshi committed grave offenses, yet awakened to non-arising; he attained Buddhahood long ago and still lives today.

Long ago, in the distant past, there was a monk named Yongshi. He happened to violate the Tathagata's Precepts, and after committing the four grave root offenses, he wished to purify himself. He then hung his three robes on his staff and cried out loudly, "I have committed grave offenses—who will absolve me?" Crying out in this way, he came to a monastery, where he met a venerable one named Bijiduoluo, who said, "When you examine the nature of the offense, it cannot be found at all." The monk Yongshi was suddenly greatly enlightened and fully endowed with the ten epithets. He then went to a world in the east and attained perfect enlightenment, with the title Tathagata Baoyue (Precious Moon). He remains so even now. Therefore it is said: he became a Buddha long ago and is still present today.

The lion's roar, the fearless teaching— deeply I sigh for the dull and muddled, the thick-skinned and stubborn.

When the Buddhas teach the Dharma—the perfect and sudden Great Vehicle—they are free and fearless. It is like the lion's roar: at that moment, there is no fear, complete freedom. That is why it is called "fearless teaching." "Deeply sighing" is a word of profound lament. "Muddled" means not being wise or clever. "Thick hide" refers to the extremely coarse, thick hide on an ox's neck. This is a metaphor for those of dull faculties in the Small Vehicle who, hearing the Great Dharma, are unable to awaken. Therefore these words of lamentation and grief are spoken.

They only know that committing grave offenses obstructs Enlightenment; they do not see the Tathagata's revealed secret key.

They only know that by committing the first four grave offenses, one is obstructed from the supreme Nirvana's wondrous mind, and that one cannot realize the emptiness of the nature of offenses.

This being so, those who cannot escape from the realm of birth and death are all rooted in sexual misconduct and killing, and thus sink into endless wandering.

If there are those with the seed-nature of the Great Vehicle, even when they encounter such circumstances, they arouse the Bodhi mind, turn from delusion, and return to the true, and can thereby enter the Path.

This is like Sudhana visiting the courtesan Vasumitrā. She told Sudhana, "I have attained a bodhisattva liberation called 'the Stage Beyond Greed.' Following the pleasures of the world, I manifest my body accordingly. If any being merely sees me, merely speaks with me, merely takes my hand, they are freed from greed and attain the samādhi of traveling to all Buddha-lands."

Again, this is like Sudhana visiting King Anala. Countless fierce soldiers held weapons, and countless beings who had each broken the law had their heads cut off or their hands severed. When Sudhana saw this, he thought, "How can one seek the Dharma in a place like this?" The king told Sudhana, "I have attained the bodhisattva samādhi of illusory manifestation. As for one who aligns with my mind, I would rather endure uninterrupted suffering for ages to come than harm a single mosquito or ant for even a single thought—how much less a human being!"

Thus we know that if one has the seed-nature, whatever circumstances one encounters can bring one back to the source. But now these followers of the Two Vehicles and all those of small capacity are stuck on the precepts of observance and violation, devoted entirely to the things of practice, and therefore do not see that the nature of offense and blessing is empty, and do not clearly see the Buddha-nature. This is failing to see the Tathāgata's opening of the secret teaching. Hence the following passage specifically sets forth the characteristics of sexual misconduct and killing to clarify what has just been said.

There were two monks who had committed sexual misconduct and killing. Upali's judgment, as dim as a firefly's glow, only added to their offenses and bound them tighter.

Those who commit sexual misconduct or killing—these are both root heavy offenses. As for "firefly light": the Small Vehicle is like the light of a firefly; it cannot dispel darkness.

Long ago, two monks built a hut in the mountains and practiced there, strictly upholding the pure precepts without any breach or violation. One day, one monk went out, and the other remained in the hut in meditation. Suddenly, as he sat, he grew drowsy and fell asleep. A wood-gathering woman then secretly violated his pure precepts.

He was deeply displeased within. When his fellow monk returned to the hut, he recounted the whole matter. The monk was furious and immediately seized and chased the wood-gathering woman. In her fright, she fell into a deep pit and died. The monk then grew even more afflicted.

One had unintentionally committed sexual misconduct; the other had unintentionally committed killing. Both monks had acted without intent. Together they went to the greatly virtuous Elder Upāli to seek confession. The Elder assessed the offenses according to the Small Vehicle. At that time, the two monks were uncertain in their minds, and doubt arose all the more. So they went to the layman Vimalakīrti to confess, and there recounted the matter.

Vimalakīrti rebuked him, saying: "You do not skillfully assess capacities when teaching the Dharma. These two monks have long cultivated the Great Vehicle—how could you compare the great ocean to a cow's hoofprint? Upāli's Small Vehicle is like the light of a firefly; its light cannot dispel darkness." Therefore it is said: "Upāli's firefly light increases the offenses and binds them."

The great bodhisattva Vimalakirti instantly dispelled all doubt, like the blazing sun melting frost and snow.

Venerable Upali focused on confessing sins through the methods of the Lesser Vehicle, but sins cannot truly be confessed that way. Now Vimalakirti, the great being, taught the Dharma gate of the nature of emptiness and formlessness by principle. He thoroughly investigated the nature of sin and found it utterly ungraspable — not inside, not outside, not in between. The past does not go, the future does not come, the present does not abide. When sought across the three periods, sin is completely unobtainable. At that moment, the two monks suddenly awakened: they realized the nature of sin is empty and still. Their minds became firmly settled in the patient acceptance of non-arising. The sutra says: "If one wishes to repent, sit upright and contemplate true reality. All sins are like frost and dew — the sun of wisdom can dissolve them." Therefore it says, "like a blazing sun melting frost and snow."

Inconceivable is the power of liberation; its wondrous function is boundless, like the sands of the Ganges.

Inconceivable means it cannot be grasped by thought, nor expressed in words. When the mouth tries to speak of it, words fail; when the mind tries to think of it, thought fades. The sutra says: "Even if the whole world were filled with people like Shariputra, and they all together exhausted their thinking to measure it, they could not fathom the Buddha's wisdom." At this point, one must have an awakened mind to clearly understand the perfect, sudden teaching of the One Vehicle of Liberation. Once this Dharma is realized, its wondrous function is as boundless as the countless sands of the Ganges — endless and without limit. Therefore it is said: "Its wondrous function is like the sands of the Ganges, without end."

I dare not decline the four offerings of support, even at the cost of hard labor. Ten thousand taels of gold could also be consumed.

Those who have reached the Dharma are worthy to receive the vast offerings of humans and celestial beings. But those who have gone forth—though their body has left home, if their mind is not steeped in the Path, then across all the scriptures and treatises they are said to be entirely lacking in worthiness to receive offerings. The ancient teachers said: "If one does not cultivate moral virtue, then clothing and food are wasted." This is exactly what that means. As for the "four requisites," they are: first, clothing; second, bedding and seating; third, food and drink; fourth, medicine. Regarding these four requisites, in all the teachings one must arouse a mind of shame and humility in order to be worthy to make use of them. Now this person of the Path—how could they be limited to the four requisites alone? Even ten thousand taels of gold could rightly be consumed by them.

Even grinding my bones to dust could not repay it; a single phrase, clearly understood, surpasses a hundred billion.

Pulverizing one's bones: this is like the time when the Bodhisattva Changti (Sadāprarudita) was studying Prajñā in Fragrant City. After he had obtained the Dharma, he regretted having nothing with which to make offerings to the World-Honored One. Then it happened that a wealthy elder in the city fell ill, and someone was needed to give bone marrow to compound medicine. At once he struck his bones and drew out the marrow, selling it to the elder. With the money he obtained, he bought all kinds of flowers and incense to make offerings to the Buddha. His sincerity can thus be known.

Crushing one's body: this is like Shakyamuni in a former life, when he gave up his whole body seeking half a verse. "I recall that in the past I was a brahmin, cultivating the Bodhisattva path in the Snow Mountains. No Buddha had appeared in the world, and there were no scriptures or teachings either. At that time, Shakra, lord of the gods, manifested a terrifying form to personally test him. Appearing before him in the form of a rākṣasa, he spoke half a verse:

All conditioned things are impermanent; This is the dharma of arising and ceasing.

When the Bodhisattva heard the verse, joy arose in his mind. He rose from his seat and looked in all four directions, but saw nothing in the stillness—only the rākṣasa. He asked, 'Holy one, from where did you obtain this half verse? This half verse is precisely the dharma by which the Buddhas of the three times realize the path.'

The rākṣasa replied, 'I have not eaten for seven days. My mind is confused, and so I speak such words.'

The Bodhisattva then said, 'Holy one, if you will complete this verse for me, I will be your disciple for life.'

The rākṣasa answered, 'Hunger presses me; truly I cannot speak.'

The Bodhisattva asked again, 'Holy one, what do you eat?'

'I eat only warm flesh, and I drink only fresh blood.'

The Bodhisattva said, 'Holy one, if you will speak this supreme verse for me, I will give up my body to make an offering to you.'

Thereupon the rākṣasa spoke the verse:

When arising and ceasing are utterly ceased, Quiescent cessation is bliss.

When the Bodhisattva heard this, he immediately wrote the verse on the stone wall by the path beneath the tree. Then he climbed a tall tree and threw himself down. Before he reached the ground, the rākṣasa resumed the form of Shakra and caught him in midair, setting him safely on flat ground, and with shame and reverence praised him. Because of this cause, he surpassed twelve kalpas and attained the supreme path before Maitreya. Therefore it is said: 'One phrase understood clearly surpasses a hundred billion.'

King of the Dharma, supreme and unsurpassed, countless Buddhas as numerous as the sands of the Ganges have all realized this together.

The King of Dharma among kings. His position surpasses that of a hundred kings, so he is called the King within the Dharma. He transcends the Three Realms and walks alone in the great direction, so he is called the highest and most supreme. Indeed, all the countless Buddhas of the past, future, and present fully realize this. All the venerable elders of the world fully realize this. The countless collections of Dharma and all gateways of meaning do not go beyond this. The sutra says: "Only a Buddha together with a Buddha can fully know this." "Only a Buddha" refers to Shakyamuni, the master of transformation. "Together with a Buddha" refers to the Buddhas of the ten directions. Hence it says "only" — not one Buddha, two Buddhas, three, four, or five Buddhas, but even the Buddhas of the ten directions together realize this Dharma. Therefore it is said that the Tathagatas of the ten directions together equally realize it.

I now understand this wish-fulfilling jewel: all who receive it with faith will be in accord with it.

Only this mind-dharma is like the wish-fulfilling jewel of the world: it has every function and is inexhaustible.

The Fourth Patriarch said to Chan Master Niutou Rong:

Hundreds of thousands of wonderful gates all return to the square inch. Merits as numerous as the sands of the Ganges are all in the mind-source. Every gate of concentration, every gate of wisdom, every gate of practice—all are fully complete with spiritual powers and wonderful functions, and all are within your own mind. Afflictions and karmic obstacles are originally empty and still. All karmic results are like dreams and illusions. There is no Three Realms to escape from; there is no Enlightenment to seek. People and non-people are equal in nature and appearance. The great Path is vast and open, beyond thought and beyond deliberation. A dharma such as this you have now attained; there is nothing further lacking. You are no different from the Buddha; there is no other dharma. Simply let the mind be free and at ease. Do not engage in contemplative practice, and do not stop the mind either. Do not give rise to greed or anger; do not harbor sorrow or worry. Vast and unobstructed, follow your inclination freely. Do not do good deeds; do not do evil deeds. Walking, standing, sitting, or lying down—whatever meets your eyes and whatever conditions you encounter are all the wonderful functions of the Buddha. Therefore it is said: those who have faith and accept this are all in accord.

Clear seeing: there is nothing at all—no person, no Buddha.

Within the realm of True Suchness, there is no provisional name of "sentient being" or "Buddha." In the nature of equality, there is no form or appearance of self and other. That is to say, there is no thing, no person, and no Buddha. Therefore, the Prajñā Sūtra says: "Subhūti, because emptiness of emptiness is pure, form is pure; because form is pure, all-knowledge is pure. Why is this? Because if emptiness of emptiness is pure, if form is pure, if all-knowledge is pure, they are without two, without division into two, without distinction, without severance." Therefore it is said: clearly seeing, there is not a single thing; there is also no person and no Buddha.

The vast thousand-fold world system is a bubble on the sea; all sages and saints are like a flash of lightning brushed away.

The great billion-world universe within the nature of enlightenment is like a single bubble on the water. Not only is the billion-world universe a bubble on the water—all worlds throughout the ten directions within the nature of enlightenment are likewise like a single bubble on the water. As Guanyin Bodhisattva said of the perfect penetration he realized: "Delusion and confusion produce emptiness; relying on emptiness, worlds are established. Thoughts, when stilled, become lands; knowledge and perception become living beings. Emptiness arises within the great enlightenment, like one bubble rising in the sea." Therefore it is said: the billion-world universe is a bubble in the sea. All sages and saints are like a flash of lightning—like lightning or a spark struck from stone, gone in an instant without a trace, hard to grasp. Therefore the Prajñā Sutra says: "Because inner emptiness is pure, the form realm, the eye-consciousness realm, and all feelings born from eye-contact as condition are pure. Because the form realm and so on, up to all feelings born from eye-contact as condition, are pure, therefore the wisdom of all wisdom is pure." Hence it is said: all sages and saints are like a flash of lightning.

Even if an iron wheel were spinning on your head, once Concentration and Wisdom are complete and radiant, you would never lose them.

Even if a blazing iron wheel were to spin above your head—the commentary says: through the power of spiritual practice cultivated by Bodhisattvas at the twenty-eighth stage of abiding, a certain Mara said to the Bodhisattva, "You should step down from your position. If you do not retreat, I will send a scorching iron wheel spinning above your head, shattering your body into dust like fine particles." At that moment, the Bodhisattva, through the inconceivable power of perfectly luminous Concentration and Wisdom, did not lose that position. Then all the hosts of Mara instead fell away on their own. Because the Bodhisattva's Concentration and Wisdom grew ever more radiant, it is said: "Concentration and Wisdom perfectly luminous—never lost."

The sun may grow cold, the moon may grow hot, but the multitude of demons cannot destroy the true teaching.

The sun is naturally hot—how could one call it cold? The moon is naturally cold—how could one call it hot? Thus we know that all the maras cannot destroy the true teaching. When the Tathagata teaches the Dharma, the mara palaces tremble, and the factions of false views take refuge. How could they destroy the sacred words? As for the saying "the sun can be made cold and the moon can be made hot," the Mahaparinirvana Sutra says: At that time Anuluda said to the World-Honored One, "The moon can be made hot, the sun can be made cold, but the Four Noble Truths taught by the Buddha cannot be made otherwise." Now Yongjia uses this to show that all the maras cannot destroy the true teaching of Prajna.

The elephant's march is steep and towering—in vain they try to advance along the road. Who has ever seen a mantis stop a chariot's wheel?

The Mahayana Dharma-gate that the Bodhisattva propagates and spreads cannot be obstructed by any mara. It is like a mighty elephant advancing in towering strength—how could a tiny mantis or small insect block the ruts of its chariot wheels? Long ago, Duke Zhuang of Qi went out hunting. A mantis raised its legs, about to strike at his chariot wheel. He asked his chariot driver, "What insect is this?" The driver replied, "This is a mantis." Duke Zhuang said, "With the tiniest strength it tries to resist a great chariot—it does not measure its own power." Now Yongjia has touched lightly upon worldly conditions in order to bear witness to the supramundane noble Dharma, making it easy to understand. And now the Dharma flows throughout the sand-realms, its teachings filling the dragon palaces. How then could the lesser sages and hosts of maras possibly create obstruction or hindrance? Therefore it is said: who has ever seen a mantis block a chariot's ruts?

A great elephant does not walk on a rabbit's path. Great enlightenment is not bound by petty rules.

The realms and merits that the great vehicle Bodhisattvas pass through are supremely excellent—beyond the knowledge of humans and celestial beings, and beyond the reach of the Two Vehicles. Since the Dharma-gates differ in superiority and inferiority, and to make this easy to understand, the world's elephant and hare are used as an analogy. Only a great road can accommodate where a great elephant roams; a tiny hare's narrow path cannot bear it. Hence it is said, "The great elephant does not tread the hare's path."

As for "great awakening is not bound by small conventions": one who has seen the nature cannot be judged by outward appearances, nor confined by the precepts of observance and violation. Such a one's workings are beyond measure—like the young novice Gao who did not receive the precepts, or Yaoshan who did not read the scriptures. Hence it is said, "Great awakening is not bound by small conventions."

Do not slander the vast heavens with your narrow, limited views. Since you have not yet understood, I will now settle it for you.

The supreme Prajñā is meant only for those of the highest capacity and sharpest faculties. Beings of middling and lesser capacity find it hard to grasp or model. Thus, within the vastness of the three realms and the boundlessness of the six paths, all is but vain living and wasteful dying. The sutra says: "Like hundreds of thousands of mosquitoes and gnats in a single vessel, chirping and buzzing in chaotic clamor, puffing out their bellies in wild commotion, unaware of the vast openness of the great void." This illustrates that those of small capacity cannot give rise to the mind of Enlightenment or enter the realm of the Great Vehicle. Now, Yongjia secretly fears that worldly people will not believe this and will carelessly give rise to slander, like a foolish person holding a tube to peer at the sky, using the tininess of their own view to slander the boundless blue expanse. Whose fault is that? If you do not yet understand, I shall now decide it for you. This single phrase—the entire canon of the great storehouse of teachings cannot lift it up; the ancestral teachers of six generations can only praise it from afar. Know therefore that all the sages from above have opened the gate of skillful means to guide those who come after, letting down a single thread of a path, briefly revealing the manner of the wind. The final word—do not let it be raised in error.

At that time, during the Jiading reign period (in the year jima), published by Yu Baxuan, of the disan rank, from Jian'an.

Shuzhou Fantian Gong和尚 (Commentary) Yongjia's Song of Enlightenment (End)