禪法要解

When a practitioner first comes wishing to receive the teaching, the teacher asks: “Are your five precepts pure?”

If the person has much sexual desire, they should be taught the contemplation of impurity. Impurity is of two kinds:

– First, the contemplation of impurity that produces revulsion.

– Second, the contemplation of impurity that does not produce revulsion.

Why is this so? Because sentient beings have six kinds of desire: first, attachment to complexion; second, attachment to bodily form; third, attachment to deportment; fourth, attachment to voice; fifth, attachment to smoothness; and sixth, attachment to the characteristics of a person.

Those attached to the first five kinds of desire should be taught the contemplation of impurity that produces revulsion. Those attached to the characteristics of a person should be taught the contemplation of the white bones, and should also contemplate a corpse, either decomposed or not yet decomposed. Contemplating a corpse not yet decomposed eliminates two kinds of attachment: attachment to deportment and attachment to voice. Contemplating a corpse that has decomposed eliminates all six kinds of attachment.

The practice of contemplating impurity is of two kinds:

– First, one contemplates a foul-smelling, impure corpse. One reflects: “My own body is impure and no different from this corpse.” Contemplating in this way, one’s mind gives rise to revulsion. Having grasped this sign, one then goes to a secluded place, beneath a tree, or into an empty dwelling, and uses this sign to contemplate the impurity of one’s own body. One examines it throughout, binds the mind to the body, and does not allow it to stray outward. If the mind becomes distracted, one gathers it back and binds it within.

– Second, although one does not see it directly with one’s eyes, through receiving the teaching from one’s teacher one recollects, discerns, and contemplates that the body is filled with thirty-six impure substances: hair of the head, body hair, nails, teeth, tears, saliva, sweat, grime, fat, membranes, flesh, skin, sinews, blood vessels, marrow, brain, heart, liver, spleen, kidneys, lungs, stomach, intestines, peritoneum, bile, phlegm and spittle... the internal organs containing blood, pus, feces, parasites... Such impure things gather together and are provisionally called the body. Having contemplated one’s own body in this way, one likewise contemplates the external body to which one is attached.

If the mind becomes disgusted with sexual desire, it grows still. If the mind does not become still, one must diligently rebuke one’s own mind, thinking: “Suffering, aging, sickness, and death are drawing near. Life is like a flash of lightning.

A human body is difficult to obtain, a good teacher is difficult to encounter, and the Buddha-Dharma is nearing extinction, like a lamp about to go out. Very many calamities destroy the Dharma of concentration. Within are the afflictions; without are the hosts of Mara.

Famine spreads throughout the land, aging and sickness are everywhere, and the power of the brigand death is exceedingly strong, destroying the cultivation of meditative concentration. My body is perilously vulnerable. I have not inflicted even the slightest injury upon the brigands of affliction within, nor have I attained anything in the Dharma of meditation.

Although I wear the Dharma robe, within I am utterly empty and no different from a layperson. All the gates to the evil destinies stand open. Among wholesome dharmas, I have not yet entered right concentration; as for unwholesome dharmas, I cannot be certain that I will not commit them.

Why am I now attached to this sack of feces, giving rise to indolence and being unable to strive diligently to subdue my own mind? This wretched body is censured by the noble sages. Its nine apertures discharge loathsome impurities, so why should I be attached to it?

If I die like an animal, I too shall fall into darkness. Truly, this must not be allowed!”

Thinking in this way, one reproaches oneself and gathers the mind back. At the same time, one should also gladden the mind, thinking: “The Buddha is the Omniscient One. He directly taught a path of Dharma that is easy to understand and easy to practice. He is my Great Teacher, so I should not be afraid. Just as one who relies upon a great king has no further fear, the arhats, whose task has been completed, are my companions.” Having reflected in this way, one disciplines the mind as a faithful servant obeys his master. Once the mind has been disciplined, all fruits are attained, and one gains mastery of the six superknowledges.

“I too must discipline my own mind in hopes of attaining this. This is the only path; there is no other.” Having reflected in this way, one returns to the contemplation of impurity.

Again, one joyfully thinks: “When I first began to practice the path, the winds of the afflictions blew upon me and disturbed my mind. If I attain the path, even the most sublime five desires will be unable to disturb me, much less these base and defiled desires. It was like the elder Maudgalyayana, who attained the path of arhatship. His former wife adorned herself splendidly and brought musicians with her, wishing to disturb Maudgalyayana. At that time, Maudgalyayana spoke these verses:

– Your body is a frame of dry bones,

Bound together by skin and flesh;

Within, it is filled with impurity,

Without a single clean thing.

A leather sack filled with filth,

Its nine apertures constantly discharge;

Like a ghost, crooked and false—

What is there to cherish as precious?

Your body is like a cesspit,

Covered over by a thin skin;

The wise cast it aside and shun it,

As people discard a filthy thing.

If others knew your body

As I, in revulsion, know it,

They all would distance themselves,

As people avoid a cesspit.

You adorn your body

With flowers, perfumes, and jeweled necklaces;

It is a thing to which ordinary people cling,

But by which the wise are not deluded.

Your body contains impurity,

A collection of filthy things;

Like decorating a latrine,

Fools consider it beautiful.

The ribs are joined to the spine,

Like rafters resting upon a pillar;

The five viscera lie within the belly,

Impure as a chest of feces.

Your body is like a house of excrement,

Which fools desire to preserve;

Adorned with pearls and jeweled necklaces,

Outwardly fair like a painted vase.

One empty of defiled desire

Is attached neither before nor after;

You come to disturb me,

Like a moth flying into a flame.

All the poisons of desire

I have now completely extinguished;

I have left the five desires far behind

And torn through Mara’s net.

My mind is like empty space,

Attached to nothing whatsoever;

Even if faced with heavenly desires,

My mind would still remain undefiled.

The practitioner should reflect in this way, firmly and resolutely fixing the mind upon the meditation subject, without fearing any desires. If a person of sharp faculties practices diligently with one-pointed mind, the mind will become established in concentration within no more than seven days. For a person of middling faculties, it may take up to twenty-one days. A person of dull faculties will attain it only after a somewhat longer time. Just as churning curds will certainly produce butter, attainment is assured. But if one does not abide in the practice, then although one may long employ various methods with this body, one will gain absolutely nothing. It is like churning water, which can never produce butter.

Question: What prevents attainment?

Answer: If a person has violated the precepts and is unable to repent, or refuses to abandon wrong views, or has severed their roots of goodness, or is obstructed by three conditions—namely, deeply entrenched afflictions, the five heinous offenses, and karmic retribution in the evil destinies—then, because of such offenses, that person is unable to undertake the practice.

In the Mahayana, the case is different for bodhisattvas of sharp faculties who truly possess the causal conditions of wisdom and merit. If one cannot undertake this practice, one should recite sutras and cultivate merit, build stupas and make offerings, expound the Dharma and teach others, and practice the path of the ten wholesome deeds.

Question: How can one recognize the sign of one-pointedness of mind?

Answer: The sign that a person’s mind is established is that the body becomes light and joyful. Anger, sorrow, and all dharmas that vex the mind are completely extinguished. The mind experiences an unprecedented bliss surpassing the five desires.

Because the mind is pure and undefiled, the body emits light. Just as a clean mirror emits brightness, and just as a luminous jewel placed in clear water radiates brilliant light, so it is with the practitioner. When the practitioner sees this sign, the mind naturally becomes peaceful and joyful.

It is like a thirsty person digging a well in search of water: upon seeing moist earth, they know that they will soon reach water. Likewise, when the practitioner first begins the practice, it is as though digging through dry earth. Digging continually without rest, upon seeing the sign of moisture, the practitioner knows that meditative concentration will soon be attained.

With one-pointed faith and aspiration, one diligently gathers the mind and enters deeply into concentration. Having reflected in this way, one censures the five desires and regards those who pursue desire as repellent.

It is like seeing a dog eat foul-smelling feces because it cannot obtain clean food. For reasons such as these, one rebukes desire as sinful and gives rise to compassion for those who indulge in the five desires: “Their own minds contain bliss, yet they do not know to seek it; instead, they seek externally the impure and blameworthy pleasures.”

The practitioner should always be diligent, cultivating wholesome dharmas day and night to assist in the attainment of meditative concentration and cause the mind to leave behind the dharmas that obstruct meditation. One who cultivates wholesome dharmas contemplates the desire realm as impermanent, suffering, empty, and without self; as a sickness, a sore, an abscess, or an arrow piercing the heart. The three poisons burn fiercely, giving rise to the murky smoke of contention and jealousy; they are truly repulsive.

One who contemplates in this way is said to have begun the practice of meditation. If, while cultivating contemplation, the mind is obscured by the five hindrances, they must be eliminated. Just as the force of the wind scatters the dark clouds covering the sun, if the hindrance of sensual desire causes thoughts of the five desires to arise, one should immediately reflect: “Having entered the Path, I myself renounced the five desires; why do I now think of them again?

It is like someone eating again food that he has vomited. These are blameworthy dharmas of the world. Now that I am studying the Path, have shaved off my beard and hair, and wear the Dharma robe, I have vowed for the rest of my life to remain forever apart from and eradicate the five desires.

Why, then, should attachment arise in me again? This is truly improper.” In this way, it will immediately be eliminated. It is like refusing to allow a venomous snake into one’s house because it would bring great calamity.

Furthermore, the five desires are the dwelling place of every kind of evil and cannot be reversed. At first they may still be controlled, but after a long time one will be deceived by them and must endure all manner of painful afflictions. One will become jealous and angry, and there will be no evil one will not commit. It is like a bag filled with many knives: if one clasps it tightly, both hands will be injured.

Furthermore, even if one possesses all five desires, one still does not feel satisfied. If one is not satisfied, there can be no happiness. It is like a thirsty person drinking salty sauce: so long as the thirst has not been quenched, how can there be happiness? It is also like scratching a sore: so long as the disease has not been cured, there can be no happiness.

Furthermore, when sensual defilement permeates the mind, one no longer knows good from bad and no longer fears the karmic consequences in this life or the next. Therefore, sensual desire must be cast away. Having abandoned sensual desire, if a mind of anger and affliction should still arise, it must also be cast away. One should reflect that sentient beings, from the moment they emerge from the womb, never pass a moment without suffering and already endure every kind of pain. Why add further affliction to their suffering? If someone is about to be killed, what virtuous person would increase that person’s pain?

Furthermore, one who practices the Path must abandon all fetters, such as the notions of “I” and “mine,” attachment, and conceit. Although these do not obstruct rebirth in the heavenly realms, the practitioner should not entertain them; how much less should one harbor anger, which uproots the very source of happiness?

Furthermore, just as one cannot see the reflection of one’s face in violently boiling water, when anger arises in the mind, one no longer knows to honor one’s parents, teachers, and elders, and may even refuse to accept the Buddha’s teachings. Anger is a grave illness, causing boundless destruction; it resembles a rakshasa and must be eliminated through contemplation of loving-kindness. Once sensual desire and anger have ceased, if meditative concentration is attained, one experiences joy.

If one has not yet attained the joy of meditation and the emotional consciousness is scattered, sorrowful, and confused, while the mind becomes increasingly dull, sluggish, and uncomprehending, one should immediately recognize that the thief of sloth and torpor is harming the mind. It can ruin even worldly benefits, how much more the practice of the Path. Sleep is the same as death, differing only in that breathing continues.

Just as cloth covering the surface of water prevents reflections from appearing, sloth and torpor cover the mind so that it cannot discern good from bad; the same is true regarding the reality of all dharmas. At that time, one should reflect as follows in order to eliminate them: “All the thieves of the afflictions seek to cause harm; how can I sleep at ease? In battle against an enemy, amid the points of weapons, one must not sleep.

I have not yet escaped the calamities of aging, sickness, and death, nor have I been freed from the sufferings of the three evil destinies. Within the Dharma of the Path, I have not yet attained even the Dharma of Warmth; therefore, I must not sleep.”

Having reflected in this way, if sleepiness still remains, one should rise, fetch cold water and wash one’s face, look in the four directions, and gaze upward at the stars. One should contemplate three matters to eliminate sloth and torpor and prevent them from obscuring the mind:

– First is fear. One should reflect: “The king of death is immensely powerful and constantly seeks to kill. Death is close at hand, like a thief swiftly approaching, and cannot be disregarded. It is also like a sharp blade held against one’s neck: if one falls asleep, one’s head will immediately be severed.”

– Second is encouragement and joy. One should reflect: “The Buddha is the Great Teacher, possessing a wondrous and unprecedented teaching. That I have received and studied it is a joyful and fortunate blessing.” Then the mind’s sleepiness will immediately disappear.

– Third is sorrow. One should further reflect: “In future lives, how many times will I undergo rebirth and endure immeasurable, boundless calamity, suffering, and pain?”

Through such reasons, one should reproach sloth and torpor.

When one reflects in this way, sloth and torpor will immediately cease.

If the hindrance of restlessness and remorse arises, one should reflect as follows: “People of the world seek amusement and become restless and frivolous because they wish to dispel their sorrow. Yet I am practicing austerities, sitting in meditation, and seeking the Path; why do I allow my mind to become heedlessly restless and frivolous? This is truly improper!” The Buddha-Dharma esteems the collected mind and regards it as the foundation. Therefore, one must not be coarse or allow the mind to run wild. Just as rippling water cannot reflect an image, restlessness agitates the mind so that it cannot discern what is beautiful from what is ugly. Remorse is as explained in the Perfection of Meditation.

Question: Craving, ill will, and doubt are each separately called a hindrance. Why are restlessness and remorse, and sloth and torpor, each called a hindrance only when the two are combined?

Answer: Sloth is an affliction whose power is weak; without the assistance of torpor, it cannot obscure the mind. Restlessness cannot constitute a hindrance without remorse. Therefore, each pair is combined and called a hindrance. It is like using a single strand of cord to bind an object: it lacks sufficient strength, but when strands are joined together, they can bind it securely.

Furthermore, among the mental dharmas of sloth and torpor, sloth makes the mind heavy, and because the mind is heavy, the body also becomes heavy. The obstruction caused by sloth is subtle, whereas the obstruction caused by torpor is stronger and can obstruct and destroy the Dharma of the Path. Therefore, the two are combined and called a hindrance.

After one has awakened from sleep, if the mind is not single-pointed but races about, thinking of the five desires and engaging in the afflictions, this is called restlessness. It is like a monkey released from a cage, leaping about at will and playing among the forest trees. Restlessness is likewise. Having thought of the five desires and acted under the fetters, one further commits faults of body, speech, and mind. One then becomes sorrowful and remorseful, thinking: “I did what should not have been done, and failed to do what should have been done.” Thus, the characteristic of the hindrance of restlessness and remorse arises from the combination of the two.

Question: If one commits evil and is able to repent, is that not also a hindrance?

Answer: If one violates a precept and repents, saying, “From this day onward, I will not transgress again,” that is not a hindrance. If one constantly recalls the sinful deed and cannot forget it, becoming sorrowful and allowing the mind to be disturbed, it is called a hindrance. Through such reasons, one should reproach the hindrance of restlessness and remorse and bind the mind to its object.

If doubt arises in the mind, it should be eliminated. Why? Unlike attachment and conceit, doubt prevents the arising of joy in this life and causes one to fall into hell in a future life.

Doubt obstructs wholesome dharmas. It is like arriving at a fork in the road, hesitating and not knowing which path to follow, and therefore standing still. The practitioner is the same: because doubt arises regarding dharmas previously cultivated, one ceases to practice them.

One should immediately recognize that the calamity of doubt is that it obstructs the Right Path and must be quickly eliminated.

One should further reflect: “The Buddha is the Omniscient One. He distinguishes with complete clarity which dharmas are worldly and which transcend the world, which are wholesome and which unwholesome, which are beneficial and which harmful. I should now simply receive and practice them, without giving rise to doubt.

I must follow the teaching and must not oppose it. Furthermore, the Buddha-Dharma is wondrous and subtle. Through the cultivation of concentration and wisdom, one knows dharmas as they truly are.

Since I do not possess such wisdom, how can I use my own mind to speculate about dharmas? It is like a person who can resist bandits only when holding a sharp weapon. If one faces a powerful enemy without grasping a weapon, one will instead be harmed.

Since I have not yet attained the wisdom born of cultivating concentration, why do I wish to fathom the true characteristics of all dharmas? This is improper.”

Furthermore, non-Buddhist practitioners give rise to doubt because they are not disciples of the Buddha; but since I am a disciple of the Buddha, why should I give rise to doubt concerning the Buddha? The Buddha constantly censured doubt as an affliction, a covering, a concealment, an obstruction, an impediment, and a means of self-deception. Just as one who has recognized an assassin should forsake and avoid him, so too does doubt deceive and delude the practitioner; desire and doubt can obstruct wisdom and true knowledge.

It is like an itching sore: the more one scratches it, the more it spreads throughout the body. When a physician administers medicine, the sore is immediately cured. The practitioner is likewise.

When thoughts of doubt concerning the various dharmas arise and one desires to understand the matter, doubts multiply all the more. Through the Buddha's direct instruction, doubt is cut off, and the doubting mind immediately ceases. All such censured forms of doubt must be swiftly eliminated.

Contemplating in this way, the practitioner eliminates the five hindrances, cultivates wholesome dharmas, enters deeply into one-pointedness of mind, severs the afflictions of the desire realm, and attains the concentration of the first dhyana. As the Buddha taught in the sutras: The practitioner, secluded from sensual desire and unwholesome, evil dharmas, with initial application and sustained application, enters the first dhyana, which is born of seclusion and accompanied by joy and bliss.

Question: What are the signs of attaining the first dhyana?

Answer: As explained previously, through right mindfulness one censures and restrains the five sensual desires and attains the preliminary stage. Body and mind become joyful, pliant, and light; the body possesses luminosity. These are the signs of the first dhyana.

As the practitioner advances further, the four great elements belonging to the form realm pervade the entire body, making it pliant and light. Secluded from sensual desire and evil, unwholesome dharmas, the practitioner experiences joy because the concentrated mind is one-pointed. Since the form produced in the form realm possesses the characteristic of luminosity, the practitioner sees beautiful light illuminating both within and outside the body.

The mind and intention of such a practitioner are transformed: where there was anger, there is no anger; where there was pleasure, there is no delight. The eight worldly dharmas cannot disturb the practitioner, and faith, reverence, moral shame, and moral dread increase twofold. The mind is not attached to clothing or food and esteems only wholesome virtues; everything else is regarded as a thief.

The practitioner does not concern himself even with the five sensual desires of the heavenly realms, much less the impure five sensual desires of the human world. One who attains the first dhyana possesses signs such as these.

Furthermore, upon attaining the first dhyana, the mind is exceedingly joyful, like that of a poor person who obtains a treasure and is filled with immense joy, thinking: "Throughout the first, middle, and final watches of the night, I diligently undertook arduous practice and cultivated the path of the first dhyana. Now I have obtained its fruit, which is real and not false. Though such wondrous bliss exists, deluded and foolish beings remain immersed in the impure five sensual desires, which are not true happiness. How greatly they are to be pitied!"

The joy and bliss of the first dhyana pervade the entire body, within and without, like water soaking into dry earth until it is completely moistened inside and out. Bodily pleasure experienced in the desire realm cannot pervade the entire body. The various fires of lust and anger in the desire realm burn the body, but upon entering the pool of the first dhyana, one becomes cool and experiences supreme joy, free from every kind of scorching heat.

It is like entering a cool pool when afflicted by extreme heat. Having attained the first dhyana, the practitioner recollects the method of practice previously cultivated, or other conditions, namely: the samadhi of mindfulness of the Buddha, mindfulness of impurity, contemplation of loving-kindness, and so forth. Why is this?

Because the power of contemplation involved in these practices enables one to attain meditative concentration. As one gradually enters more deeply, the preceding contemplation becomes doubly pure and luminous.

Having attained the first dhyana, the practitioner advances in quest of the second dhyana. If following the conditioned path at the threshold of the second dhyana, the practitioner becomes disenchanted with initial and sustained application. Just as the hindrance of the five sensual desires in the desire realm scatters the mind, so too do the initial and sustained application of the first dhyana disturb the concentrated mind. If following the unconditioned path and becoming detached from the first dhyana, the practitioner uses the unconditioned first dhyana to censure initial and sustained application.

Question: Since the fetters of the first dhyana can also disturb the mind, why are only initial and sustained application mentioned?

Answer: The fetters of the first dhyana are called initial and sustained application. Why is this? Because attachment arises through wholesome initial and sustained application, the fetters are also called initial and sustained application. When the first dhyana has only recently been attained, no other form of attachment is yet present.

Furthermore, because one has never before experienced the joy of initial and sustained application, excessive joy disrupts the concentrated mind. Since they disrupt concentration, they must first be eliminated.

Furthermore, to enter deeply into the concentration of the second dhyana, one must eliminate initial and sustained application. For the sake of a greater benefit, one relinquishes a lesser benefit, just as one abandons the lesser pleasure of the desire realm and obtains greater bliss.

Question: Why is it said only that initial and sustained application should be extinguished, without mentioning the afflictions of the first dhyana?

Answer: Initial and sustained application are precisely the wholesome initial and sustained application of the first dhyana. Craving and the other afflictions belonging to the first dhyana are also called initial and sustained application. Because initial and sustained application obstruct the path to the second dhyana, they must be extinguished. Since wholesome initial and sustained application can hold the practitioner back and cause the mind to remain in their pleasure, they must be extinguished.

The practitioner further contemplates: "I know that evil initial and sustained application are indeed thieves. Although wholesome initial and sustained application seem intimate and friendly, they too are thieves that rob me of a greater benefit. I must advance and seek to extinguish both kinds of initial and sustained application. Initial and sustained application disturb the mind just as sounds disturb the sleep of a weary person." Therefore, the practitioner eliminates initial and sustained application in quest of the second dhyana.

Just as wind and earth can make water turbid so that no reflection can be seen upon its surface, the five sensual desires of the desire realm cloud the mind as earth sullies water. Initial and sustained application disturb the mind as wind ripples water. Because initial and sustained application have ceased, inward purity is attained. Without initial or sustained application, joy and bliss born of concentration arise, and the practitioner enters the second dhyana.

Question: What are the signs of the second dhyana?

Answer: The sutra states: "All initial and sustained application, whether wholesome or indeterminate, are extinguished. Because there is no initial or sustained application to agitate and disturb it, the mind is inwardly purified. It is like calm water without wind or waves, in which the moon, stars, and mountains are all reflected and clearly seen." Such inward purity is called the serenity of the noble ones.

Although the third and fourth dhyanas are also serene, because this serenity is first attained in the second dhyana, it is described in relation to initial and sustained application, which are also spoken of as its causes and conditions. Because these causes and conditions have only now ceased, it is called serenity. Joy and bliss born of concentration are subtler and more wondrous than those of the first dhyana.

The joy of the first dhyana is born of seclusion from sensual desire, whereas the joy here is born from the concentration of the first dhyana.

Question: The second dhyana is also detached from the fetters of the first dhyana. Why is it not said to be born of seclusion?

Answer: Although it is also detached from those fetters, here it depends chiefly upon the power of concentration and is therefore named after concentration. Furthermore, "seclusion from sensual desire" means separation from the desire realm. Although one is separated from the first dhyana, one has not yet left the form realm; therefore, it is not called born of seclusion. Such are the signs of the second dhyana.

Having attained the second dhyana, the practitioner again seeks to enter more deeply into concentration. The concentration of the second dhyana contains afflictions that obscure the mind, namely craving, conceit, wrong views, doubt, and so forth. They disrupt the concentrated mind, are thieves within the second dhyana, and bar the gateway to the third dhyana. Therefore, the practitioner must seek to eradicate these afflictions in order to attain the third dhyana.

Question: If that is so, why did the Buddha say: "By relinquishing joy and cultivating equanimity, one enters the third dhyana"?

Answer: Upon attaining the second dhyana, one experiences great joy; yet the joyful mind is a mind liable to fault and becomes attached, and from joy the various fetters arise. Therefore, joy is the root of the afflictions. Furthermore, the various fetters bring no benefit and should not become objects of attachment, whereas joy is highly beneficial pleasure, and attachment to it is difficult to abandon. Therefore, the Buddha said that by relinquishing joy one enters the third dhyana.

Question: The faulty pleasures of the impure five sensual desires must be abandoned, but why is it said that this pure and wondrous bliss, which beings cherish, must also be abandoned?

Answer: It has already been answered that whatever gives rise to attachment is a gateway to fault. Furthermore, without abandoning joy, one cannot attain the supremely wondrous virtues. Therefore, what fault could there be in relinquishing the lesser to obtain the greater? Advancing in quest of the third dhyana, the practitioner contemplates joy and recognizes it as a cause and condition of pain, sorrow, grief, and calamity. Whatever can be an object of joy is impermanent; when it changes, sorrow and suffering arise.

Furthermore, gladness is a coarse form of pleasure. Now, wishing to abandon coarse pleasure and seek subtle pleasure, one is said to relinquish gladness and enter more deeply into concentration in quest of the pleasure of another meditative absorption.

Why does the characteristic of the third dhyana extinguish gladness? Having abandoned this subtle gladness, the mind feels no regret, for one knows gladness to be harmful. It is like a person who, knowing that his wife is a rakshasi, can leave her without regret. Gladness is deluding and disturbing; it is a coarse dharma, not something subtle. In the third dhyana, the body experiences pleasure; among worldly pleasures, none surpasses this. Because noble ones have experienced it, they can experience and can relinquish pleasure devoid of gladness, mindfully applying subtle wisdom, whereupon the body is completely suffused upon entering the third dhyana.

Question: It speaks of single-minded mindfulness and wisdom; why are these not mentioned regarding the first and second dhyanas?

Answer: In the third dhyana, the body is completely suffused with pleasure, while the mind practices equanimity, not allowing the mind to discriminate between the beautiful and the ugly; therefore, single-minded mindfulness and wisdom are mentioned. Furthermore, there are three faults in the third dhyana: first, the mind becomes increasingly subtle and sluggish; second, the mind becomes intensely agitated; third, the mind becomes deluded and dull.

The practitioner must constantly and single-mindedly remain mindful of these three faults. When the mind becomes sluggish, the practitioner should use the power of wisdom and diligence to arouse it again. When it becomes intensely agitated, it should be gathered into stillness. When the mind becomes deluded and dull, one should recollect the Buddha’s wondrous Dharma and restore joy to the mind. One should constantly guard against and counteract these three states of mind. This is called single-mindedly practicing the pleasure of entering the third dhyana.

Question: As the sutra says, “Within the third dhyana there is pleasure at two times.” What are these two times of pleasure?

Answer: First, it speaks of experienced pleasure; afterward, it speaks of delightful pleasure.

Question: There are three kinds of pleasure: experienced pleasure, delightful pleasure, and untroubled pleasure. Which pleasure in the third dhyana is supreme?

Answer: Because the pleasure of the third dhyana is supremely subtle and far surpasses the pleasure of the lower stages, and because experienced pleasure is the supreme pleasure, it is called the ultimate and consummate stage of pleasure. Since the other two kinds of pleasure also exist in higher stages, they are not named here.

Question: What is the difference between pleasure accompanied by gladness and pleasure unaccompanied by gladness?

Answer: The experience of pleasure is of two kinds: first, the faculty of gladness; second, the faculty of pleasure. The gladness and pleasure belonging to the faculty of gladness pertain to the first and second dhyanas. Pleasure without gladness belonging to the faculty of pleasure pertains to the third dhyana.

Furthermore, the coarse experience of pleasure in the desire realm relative to the first dhyana is called the faculty of pleasure, while the subtle experience is called the faculty of gladness. The coarse experience of pleasure in the second and third dhyanas is called the faculty of gladness, while the subtle experience is called the faculty of pleasure. It is like someone suffering from oppressive heat who obtains cool water: washing the hands and face with it is called gladness, while entering a large, cool pond and bathing the entire body is the experience of pleasure.

Because the first dhyana contains initial and sustained application of thought, its pleasure does not suffuse the entire body. In the second dhyana, excessive gladness gives rise to excitement and therefore cannot suffuse the entire body. In the third dhyana, there is no obstruction, and thus pleasure suffuses the entire body.

This is called the difference.

Furthermore, the experience of pleasure is of four kinds. When the six consciousnesses in the desire realm are associated with pleasure, it is called the faculty of gladness and is also called the faculty of pleasure. When the four consciousnesses in the first dhyana are associated with pleasure, it is called the faculty of pleasure and is also called the faculty of gladness. When the mental consciousness in the second dhyana is associated with pleasure, it is called the faculty of gladness. Because the third dhyana is free from gladness, when the mental consciousness is associated with the experience of pleasure, it is called the faculty of pleasure.

Having attained the third dhyana, the practitioner knows the three kinds of pleasure above (?) and therefore concentrates on guarding them, fearing their loss; this itself is an affliction. Thus, pleasure is again a calamity, and one must aspire to leave it behind. It is like a person seeking the pleasure of wealth and honor: suffering arises while seeking it; after obtaining it, dissatisfaction brings further suffering; and preserving it after it has been obtained is likewise suffering.

Some people abandon the pursuit of pleasure because seeking it brings suffering. Others obtain pleasure but remain dissatisfied, recognize the suffering, and abandon it. Still others have obtained it but abandon it because preserving it is suffering.

The calamity of pleasure for the practitioner is likewise so. When one aspires to the pleasure of the first dhyana, it is abandoned because initial and sustained application of thought cause disturbance. In the second dhyana, it is abandoned because excessive gladness causes agitation.

Knowing the pleasure of the third dhyana to be impermanent and difficult to preserve, one abandons it. Therefore, one must relinquish this pleasure to seek the secure stage of the fourth dhyana.

Question: The practitioner relies upon the pleasure of meditative concentration to abandon the pleasure of desire. Upon what pleasure does one now rely to abandon the pleasure of dhyana? What benefit is gained by abandoning the pleasure of dhyana?

Answer: By relying upon the pleasure of nirvana, the practitioner can abandon the pleasure of dhyana and gain three benefits: the paths of the arhat, the pratyekabuddha, and the Buddha. Therefore, one abandons the pleasure of meditative concentration and practices the secure and blissful fourth dhyana, employing whichever of the paths of the Three Vehicles one wishes to enter nirvana.

Question: How does one recognize the characteristic of the fourth dhyana?

Answer: As the Buddha taught concerning the characteristic of the fourth dhyana: “A bhikshu who has relinquished pleasure and relinquished pain, having previously extinguished gladness and sorrow, who is neither pained nor pleased and maintains pure mindfulness, enters the fourth dhyana.”

Question: When the pleasure of the third dhyana is eliminated, pain should already have been eliminated upon leaving desire behind. Why, then, is the elimination of pain mentioned again here?

Answer: Some say that elimination is of two kinds: first, elimination with respect to particular characteristics; second, elimination with respect to the general characteristic. It is like a stream-enterer using the path of inferential knowledge to eliminate all fetters in order to see the truths. But this is not the case here.

Why? Because the Buddha said: “Relinquish pain and relinquish pleasure, having first extinguished gladness and sorrow.” If this were the pain of the desire realm, it should have said that pain, gladness, and sorrow were previously eliminated. Yet it does not say this.

Therefore, one knows that it is not the pain of the desire realm. Because the pleasure of the third dhyana bears the characteristic of impermanence, it can give rise to pain; therefore, the elimination of pain is mentioned.

Furthermore, the Buddha said: “When experiencing pleasure, one should contemplate it as suffering.” When the pleasure of the third dhyana first arises and while it abides, it is pleasure; when it ceases, it is pain. Therefore, it is said to relinquish pleasure and relinquish pain.

“Having previously extinguished gladness and sorrow” refers to the sorrow within the desire realm and the gladness of the first and second dhyanas.

Question: In the desire realm there are both pain and sorrow, and both are extinguished when one leaves desire behind. Why is only the relinquishment of sorrow mentioned, but not the relinquishment of pain?

Answer: Although both are relinquished when one leaves desire behind, the faculty of sorrow is no longer present, whereas the faculty of pain remains present. Because it remains present, it cannot be said to have been extinguished.

Question: If the pleasure arising in the third dhyana is pleasure when it arises and abides, but pain when it ceases, why is the gladness of the first and second dhyanas not also said to be so?

Answer: In the sutra, the Buddha said that when one departs from the third dhyana, one relinquishes pleasure and pain, but does not say that one extinguishes sorrow and gladness. Regarding the first and second dhyanas, however, he did not speak in this way.

Question: Why did the Buddha not speak in this way?

Answer: Because the pleasure of the third dhyana is the most subtle and exquisite pleasure within the three realms, the mind becomes attached to it. Because of this attachment, when its impermanence manifests, pain arises. Gladness, being coarse, cannot suffuse the entire body; although it is lost, it does not give rise to grief. Therefore, the Buddha did not mention this in the sutra.

“Neither pained nor pleased”: in the fourth dhyana there is only the experience of neither pain nor pleasure.

Equanimity means abandoning the pleasure of the third dhyana, practicing neither pain nor pleasure, and experiencing a state free from recollection and regret.

Pure mindfulness: because the four states of sorrow, gladness, pain, and pleasure have been extinguished, mindfulness is pure.

Question: Purity is not mentioned regarding the preceding three dhyanas. Why, then, is it specifically mentioned here?

Answer: Because in the first dhyana, applied thought and sustained thought cause disturbance, mindfulness is not pure. It is like lighting a lamp in the wind in an open place: although there is a wick and oil, because the wind blows, its light cannot shine. In the second dhyana, although the mind is gathered into one consciousness, because joy is excessive, the concentrated mind becomes scattered; therefore, it is not called purity of mindfulness. In the third dhyana, because the mind's excessive happiness disturbs this meditative concentration, it is not said that mindfulness is pure. In the fourth dhyana, none of these conditions remains at all; therefore, it is said that mindfulness is pure.

Furthermore, although the lower dhyanas possess mental concentration, there is still inhalation and exhalation, making it difficult to gather the mind. In the fourth dhyana, however, there is no inhalation or exhalation, so the mind is easily gathered; because it is easily gathered, mindfulness is pure. Moreover, only the fourth dhyana is called true dhyana, while the other three dhyanas are the successive steps of skillful means.

The fourth dhyana is like the summit of a mountain, while the other three meditative concentrations are like the road ascending the mountain. Therefore, the Buddha called the fourth dhyana the immovable state. Because the concentration is no longer disturbed or agitated, it is called a secure and well-regulated state.

Such is the characteristic of the fourth dhyana. Just as one skilled in guiding a horse can go wherever one wishes, so a practitioner who attains this fourth dhyana can, if wishing to practice the four immeasurable states of mind, attain them easily at will; if wishing to cultivate the four foundations of mindfulness, cultivate them easily; if wishing to realize the Four Truths, realize them swiftly and without difficulty; if wishing to enter the four formless concentrations, enter them very easily; and if wishing to attain the six superknowledges, and so forth, easily attain whatever is needed.

Why is this? Because in the fourth dhyana there is neither suffering nor pleasure, mindfulness purified by equanimity, and pliancy at will. The Buddha gave this analogy: It is like a goldsmith working gold; when the gold has been properly refined, the goldsmith can fashion any ornament at will, and there is nothing that cannot be made.

Question: How does a practitioner attain the immeasurable mind of loving-kindness?

Answer: Having relied upon the fourth dhyana, the practitioner thinks of the beings in one city and wishes that they may attain peace and happiness; then likewise of those throughout one country, the four continents within one Jambudvipa, one small-thousandfold world-system, a two-thousandfold world-system, and a great three-thousandfold world-system... extending to immeasurable and boundless beings, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, throughout the ten directions. The mind of loving-kindness pervades and embraces them all, wishing that they may all attain peace and happiness.

It is like the end of an aeon of water: the waters gradually dry up and the fire-jewel is extinguished and no longer appears. In the great ocean, the Dragon King’s mind is powerfully stirred, and from his thought arises water that fills the entire ocean. The lord of the devas then sends rain throughout the world, and at that time heaven and earth are flooded and filled with water. The practitioner is the same: using the water of great loving-kindness, the practitioner extinguishes anger; loving-kindness dispels the fire of anger, and the waters of loving-kindness gradually spread ever more widely. Immeasurable and boundless beings everywhere are thereby moistened and nourished, without ever ceasing. Or, by hearing the Dharma taught, the practitioner’s loving-kindness increases.

Just as heavy rain falls everywhere, the practitioner lovingly thinks of beings and causes them to attain the pure happiness of the world. The practitioner also bestows upon beings the joy of meditative concentration that the practitioner has attained; further, the practitioner gives them the happiness of nirvana, in which suffering has ended, and so forth, extending even to the Buddha’s foremost, true happiness. Through the power of loving-kindness, the practitioner sees the beings of the six destinies throughout the ten directions, with none anywhere who is not joyful.

Question: As stated in the Abhidharma: What is the samadhi of loving-kindness? It is contemplating all beings and seeing them all as joyful. Furthermore, a sutra says: In the samadhi of the mind of loving-kindness, one sees everywhere throughout the ten directions that all are joyful. Why, then, does one merely wish that beings may attain happiness?

Answer: When first cultivating the mind of loving-kindness, one wishes that beings may attain happiness. After deeply entering the samadhi of the mind of loving-kindness, one sees that there is no being who is not happy. It is like using a fire-making implement: when the fire first ignites, it catches dry tinder and grass; as the fire blazes ever more fiercely, wet trees and entire mountain forests all burst into flame at once. Loving-kindness is the same. When first entering this contemplation, one sees another person’s happiness and wishes that those who suffer may attain that happiness. As the power of loving-kindness gradually grows stronger, one sees that all attain happiness.

Question: Beings cannot truly be apprehended. Why, then, is seeing that they all attain happiness not a cognitive inversion?

Answer: Concentration is of two kinds: the first contemplates the true characteristic of all dharmas, and the second contemplates the functioning of dharmas. It is like a jeweler: first, the jeweler thoroughly knows the forms of gems—precious or base, beautiful or ugly; second, the jeweler knows how skillfully to cut, polish, and use them. One may know their forms but not their uses; one may know their uses but not their forms; or one may know both their forms and their uses.

Practitioners are the same. Noble ones who have not yet abandoned desire may be able to contemplate the characteristics of such dharmas as the Four Noble Truths, yet may not know their functioning because they do not practice the four immeasurable states. Ordinary people who have abandoned desire and practice meritorious qualities possess the functioning that gives rise to the four immeasurable minds, yet cannot contemplate the true characteristic.

Arhats who are completely liberated can contemplate the true characteristic and, being fully endowed with meditative concentration, give rise to the four immeasurable states. To attain the four immeasurable states is to attain the Dharma of Liberation. Because this pertains to functioning, it is not a cognitive inversion.

Furthermore, in the true Buddha-Dharma there are no beings. Why, then, should contemplating suffering be true while contemplating happiness is a cognitive inversion? What is called a cognitive inversion is to apprehend the characteristic of a self where no being exists, whether as permanent or impermanent, finite or infinite, and so forth. That is cognitive inversion. One who practices loving-kindness knows that beings are mere provisional designations, just as a wheel and the other components assembled together are called a cart. Therefore, the practitioner’s pure mind of loving-kindness is not a cognitive inversion.

Furthermore, if there were no beings yet one regarded beings who experience happiness as truly existent, that would indeed be a cognitive inversion. But both the existence and nonexistence of beings are two extremes; therefore, it should not be held that only affirming the existence of beings is a cognitive inversion.

Furthermore, through the power of the samadhi of loving-kindness, the practitioner sees that all beings attain happiness. It is like the contemplation of universal pervasion: through the power of meditative concentration focused upon an object, the color blue is transformed into red. How much more so, since all beings possess characteristics of happiness that they themselves do not perceive. Whether noble or lowly, poor or rich, or birds and beasts, all have their own happiness of mutual affection. The misfortunes of the rich and noble are not possessed by the poor and lowly; the misfortunes of the poor and lowly are not possessed by the rich and noble.

Question: The other realms may be like this, but what of the hells?

Answer: Beings in the hells also have a share of happiness. Seeing from afar mountains of blades and rivers of ash, they give rise to joyful thoughts, imagining them to be forests and streams. Seeing a woman upon a tree, they likewise give rise to thoughts of joy. Moreover, because our minds are inverted, we cherish this body. When beings are about to be killed, they flee, weep, and plead with the hell wardens, hoping to be released. If a hell warden says, “I shall release you and free you from this suffering,” their minds become exceedingly joyful. Thus, all these beings have a share of happiness.

Furthermore, through the power of supernormal abilities, the practitioner manifests transformations within each class of beings while practicing loving-kindness, causing all beings to attain happiness. Or the practitioner gives personal possessions through deeds and words, helping beings accomplish their welfare. Just as the Buddhas and bodhisattvas, from the depths of their minds, compassionately think of beings, destroy the evil destinies, and truly enable them to attain many kinds of happiness, so one does not merely wish that they may be happy but actually causes them to attain happiness.

Question: What merit does one who practices loving-kindness attain?

Answer: For one who practices loving-kindness, evils cannot increase. It is like being well defended, so that external bandits cannot cause harm. If they attempt to cause harm, they instead bring calamity upon themselves, just as when a hand strikes a sharp point, the hand is injured while the point remains entirely unharmed. Five kinds of perverse speech cannot break that person’s mind. The five are:

– First, the fault of speaking falsely.

– Second is the fault of speaking harshly.

– Third is the fault of speaking at an improper time.

– Fourth is the fault of speaking with malicious intent.

– Fifth is the fault of speaking without benefit.

Like the great earth, which cannot be destroyed, one cannot be harmed by any anger, slander, and so forth. Like empty space, which cannot be injured, that person’s mind is gentle and yielding, like the garments of the devas.

Furthermore, when a practitioner enters loving-kindness, venomous creatures such as tigers, wolves, cobras, and so forth cannot harm them. Even if they enter a prison, they will not be injured. Such a person acquires immeasurable merit.

Question: Such is the virtue of loving-kindness; what, then, is the Dharma of loving-kindness?

Answer: It is thinking compassionately of sentient beings and seeing them all attain happiness. The mind that corresponds with this Dharma belongs to the formation skandha and is called the Dharma of loving-kindness. It may belong to the form realm or may belong to no realm.

It is a mental factor, co-arising with the mind and proceeding in accordance with the mind. It is not a material dharma and is not karma; it corresponds with karma, co-arises with karma, and proceeds in accordance with karma. It is not produced by transformation.

It must be cultivated, attained through cultivation, and practiced through cultivation. It must be realized through bodily realization and realization by wisdom. It may be abandoned through reflection or may not be abandoned.

It may possess both applied thought and sustained thought, possess sustained thought without applied thought, or possess neither applied nor sustained thought. It may be accompanied by joy or not accompanied by joy. It may be accompanied by inhalation and exhalation or without inhalation and exhalation.

It may pertain to noble ones or ordinary beings. It may correspond with pleasant feeling or with feeling that is neither painful nor pleasant. It is not a factor of the Path.

At first it takes signs as its object, and afterward it takes the Dharma as its object. It is present in the four dhyanas and also in the various grounds. Because it takes immeasurable sentient beings as its object, it is called immeasurable.

Because of purity, the recollection of loving-kindness, and affectionate concern that brings benefit, it is called the holy life and the Brahma vehicle. Because it enables one to reach the Brahma world, it is called the Brahma path. It is the path practiced by the Buddhas of the past.

Question: How does one cultivate the mind of loving-kindness?

Answer: A practitioner may think: “I have shaved off my beard and hair and no longer adorn myself beautifully, in order to destroy the marks of pride.” If one thinks thus, one should practice loving-kindness. Now that one wears dyed robes, one should practice loving-kindness so that the mind remains undefiled; only then will one not consume the food of others in vain. As the sutra says: “If a bhiksu trains in and cultivates the mind of loving-kindness, he thereby follows the Buddha’s teaching; only in this way does he not receive the faithful donors’ offerings in vain.”

Furthermore, a practitioner—whether monastic or lay—may think: “Through the power of the mind of loving-kindness, I remain peaceful and secure in an evil age, free from calamity. Amid a community that destroys the Dharma, I alone still rely upon the Dharma in my practice. Amid the burning afflictions, I can still make my mind cool, like a cool pond near a village.”

Furthermore, through the power of practicing loving-kindness, hostile and malicious enemies cannot cause harm. Just as sharp thorns cannot injure one who wears leather shoes, so in the desire realm, where practitioners encounter many injuries caused by anger—such as conflict, enmity, malice, and all manner of harm—they remain uninjured through the power of the mind of loving-kindness. It is like a strong man clad in vajra armor and bearing a sharp weapon: although he enters a great battle, he is never injured.

Furthermore, loving-kindness can benefit three kinds of people. Ordinary beings who practice loving-kindness eliminate anger, gain immeasurable merit, and are born in a pure realm; no worldly merit and virtue can surpass this. For those who seek the attainments of sravakas and pratyekabuddhas, the power of loving-kindness can destroy the anger of the desire realm, whereupon the other afflictions are also extinguished.

They become free from the desire realm and gradually escape the three realms. As the Buddha said: “The mind of loving-kindness comes close to encompassing the cultivation of the seven factors of awakening.” Those who arouse the Mahayana aspiration to liberate sentient beings take the mind of loving-kindness as their foundation. Thus, the mind of loving-kindness brings immeasurable benefit to these three kinds of people.

Again, when one first trains in loving-kindness, there are sixteen practices that enable one quickly to attain loving-kindness, make it firm, and continually cultivate it:

– First is to uphold the precepts purely.

– Second is for the mind to be free from remorse.

– Third is to give rise to joy in wholesome Dharma.

– Fourth is delight.

– Fifth is to gather in and guard the five sense faculties.

– Sixth is skillful mindfulness, wisdom, and expedient means.

– Seventh is seclusion of body and seclusion of mind.

– Eighth is to practice and dwell together with others.

– Ninth is, whether listening or speaking, to accord with the Dharma of loving-kindness.

– Tenth is not to trouble others.

– Eleventh is to know moderation in eating.

– Twelfth is to sleep and rest little.

– Thirteenth is to speak with wakeful awareness.

– Fourteenth is for the body’s four deportments to be peaceful and at ease.

– Fifteenth is for necessary requisites to be available as needed, without lack.

– Sixteenth is not to engage in frivolous discourse about the dharmas of practice.

These are the sixteen dharmas that support the samadhi of loving-kindness.

Compassion is the contemplation of the sufferings of sentient beings in the hells, among hungry ghosts and animals, and in the human world—sufferings such as punishment, hunger and thirst, cold, sickness, and so forth. By retaining these signs of suffering, the mind of compassion develops, until one sees that even those who are happy possess such suffering.

Question: Why is happiness regarded as suffering?

Answer: Because happiness is impermanent; because there is never a time when one is satiated with happiness; because it arises from causes and conditions, arising and ceasing from thought-moment to thought-moment without ever stopping—it is therefore suffering. Furthermore, the devas of the desire realm experience pleasure as though crazed or intoxicated, no longer capable of discernment; only at death do they understand.

Sentient beings in the form and formless realms have minds deeply attached to dhyana and samadhi. When their lifespans end, they undergo retribution according to the causes and conditions of their karma. What happiness, then, do sentient beings possess?

The hells and the other two evil destinies are their habitual dwelling places, while in the realms of devas and humans they are like guests stopping only briefly to rest. For this reason, the Buddha taught only the Truth of Suffering and did not teach a Truth of Happiness. Therefore, all sentient beings possess only suffering.

How pitiable that sentient beings do not know true suffering but, amid delusion, conceive it to be happiness. In this life and later lives, they undergo many kinds of sorrow and distress yet never become disenchanted. Though temporarily separated from suffering, they again seek happiness and thereby create various sufferings; yet again they seek happiness and thereby create various sufferings.

Reflecting in this way, one sees that all sentient beings undergo suffering. This is the mind of compassion.

Beyond this meaning of the mind of compassion, the discussion of the four immeasurables in the Mahayana Treatise also says: Joy means that the practitioner knows the true characteristics of all dharmas, contemplates all the sufferings of sentient beings as having the characteristic of happiness, and contemplates all the happiness of sentient beings as having the characteristic of suffering. Thus, dharmas have no fixed characteristics but change according to the power of the mind. If dharmas have no fixed characteristics, then even attaining unsurpassed, complete, perfect awakening is not difficult, much less attaining the other fruits of the paths. Because attainments can be obtained according to one’s aspiration, the mind gives rise to joy.

Furthermore, the practitioner thinks: “Through only a little observance of the precepts, diligence, and so forth, I am able to become free from desire and attain the immeasurable merit and virtue of the dhyanas and samadhis.” By reflecting upon these merits, the mind gives rise to joy. It is like a merchant who exchanges a few goods and gains a profit a hundred thousand times greater. The practitioner’s mind is filled with joy and further thinks: “Such benefits of the Dharma are all due to the Buddha’s kindness. The Buddha spontaneously attained the Way and taught it to everyone; by practicing according to his instructions, one gains such benefit.”

At that time, the mind contemplates the bodies of the Buddhas of the ten directions, their color like pure gold and adorned with the marks and excellent characteristics, as well as their Dharma bodies endowed with the ten powers and immeasurable other merits. By contemplating the Buddha in this way, the mind gives rise to joy. Furthermore, among the ninety-six paths, the Buddha’s is supreme; it can extinguish all suffering and lead toward eternal bliss. Thus, the mind gives rise to joy.

Again, one distinguishes three kinds of Buddha-Dharma:

– First is nirvana, whose characteristic is eternal and immeasurable; it is the indestructible and ultimate Dharma.

– Second is the Noble Eightfold Path, the expedient means leading to nirvana.

– Third is the twelve divisions of scripture that expound the Noble Eightfold Path.

By recollecting the Dharma in this way, the mind gives rise to joy.

Furthermore, one knows the true characteristic in this way, practices the right path, and departs from all deviant paths; such a person is righteous. That is to say, among all assemblies, the assembly of the Buddha’s disciples is foremost. One reflects: “I am now among this assembly. They are my true friends and can benefit me.” Because of these causes and conditions, joy arises in one’s mind, and one further wishes that all sentient beings may likewise rejoice. Through the transformative power of concentration, one sees all sentient beings attaining that joy.

Equanimity: The practitioner is like someone who is slightly weary and allows the mind to rest for a while. One contemplates only the single characteristic of sentient beings, without contemplating suffering or happiness. The characteristic of joy is like that of a young child: if one constantly loves and indulges the child, the child will become spoiled; if one constantly oppresses and frightens the child, the child will become thin and frail.

Therefore, at times one lets go, neither loving nor hating. In the same way, if the practitioner constantly cultivates the joy of loving-kindness, the mind becomes unrestrained because of its delight. If one constantly cultivates compassion, the mind becomes sorrowful from contemplating so much suffering.

Therefore, one practices equanimity so that neither suffering nor happiness becomes excessive.

Furthermore, when the practitioner enters the path and attains a stage of meditative concentration, one distinguishes sentient beings as good or bad, wholesome or unwholesome. Toward good people, one is respectful, affectionate, and mindful of them; toward unwholesome people, one gives rise to contempt and arrogance. It is like someone who has acquired many precious treasures and looks down upon the poor, while respecting and cherishing those who possess treasures. To eliminate these two attitudes, one cultivates the mind of equanimity.

As stated in the sutra: “Cultivating the mind of loving-kindness eliminates anger; cultivating the mind of compassion eliminates the harming and afflicting of sentient beings; cultivating the mind of sympathetic joy eliminates sorrow; and cultivating the mind of equanimity eliminates affection and hatred. One merely contemplates sentient beings as liberated and able to act according to their wishes, just as one who contemplates a forest does not contemplate its individual trees.”

Again, when people in the world obtain warmth in the cold, coolness in the heat, and possessions according to their wishes, this is called happiness. If they attain an official position, treasuries of wealth, singing, dancing, amusement, and play, this is called joy. If they lose these things, this is called sorrow and suffering. If none of these three conditions is present, this is called equanimity. The practitioner is likewise: possessing all four minds, one personally experiences happiness and wishes that happiness to reach sentient beings. When the mind has become thoroughly developed, one sees all sentient beings attaining happiness.

Again, when honored teachers, devas, and affluent people in the world experience happiness, one retains the characteristic of that happiness and vows that sentient beings may attain it. When the mind has become thoroughly developed, one sees all sentient beings attaining this happiness. When cultivating loving-kindness, the mind becomes exceedingly joyful, and one bestows this joy upon sentient beings. Or, after emerging from concentration, one bows to the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, praises them, and makes offerings; thereby one also obtains joy of mind and vows that sentient beings may attain it, taking this externally arisen joy and vowing to bestow it upon them.

Or, when encountering such sufferings as aging, sickness, sorrow, hunger, thirst, cold, and hardship, one wishes that sentient beings may be freed from all these afflictions. One thinks: “Though I possess discernment, sound judgment, and a patient mind, I still suffer affliction. How much more must sentient beings who lack wisdom and patience suffer when enduring these hardships?” One then gives rise to the mind of compassion.

Again, seeing people being dismembered or beaten, or hearing in the sutras of the sufferings in the evil destinies, one retains the characteristic of suffering, contemplates that all beings suffer, and gives rise to the mind of compassion.

Equanimity means relinquishing affection and hatred. One also contemplates sentient beings as free from affection and hatred and retains the characteristic of their experiencing neither suffering nor happiness. From the fourth dhyana up to the realm of neither perception nor non-perception, and whenever there is neither suffering nor happiness in the desire realm, one retains this characteristic and then contemplates all sentient beings as likewise neither suffering nor happy.

Again, it is like a wealthy person who has only one child and therefore loves the child dearly and constantly keeps the child in mind. He wishes that the child may obtain every happiness in the world and gives the child everything he himself possesses. If the child encounters sorrow and distress, the father feels profound compassion. If the child is no longer suffering, the father greatly rejoices. After joy has arisen in his mind, he relinquishes his responsibility, allowing the child to mature independently, and the father is able to rest.

In the same way, when cultivating the four immeasurable minds, the practitioner regards sentient beings as one’s own children. Whatever forms of happiness one possesses, together with all worldly pleasures, one vows that they may attain that happiness. Through the power of the concentration of loving-kindness, one sees them all as happy.

When the practitioner leaves the mind of loving-kindness, if one sees sentient beings undergoing various sufferings, one retains this characteristic and then gives rise to the mind of compassion.

Through the power of the mind of compassion, one sees all sentient beings experiencing suffering. Having seen this, one vows that they may all be freed from that suffering.

After emerging from the samadhi of compassion, if one sees sentient beings experiencing happiness, attaining the path, and entering nirvana, one retains this characteristic, gives rise to a joyful mind, and wishes that they may attain these things. When the mind-consciousness has become pliant, one sees all sentient beings attaining joy.

After emerging from this concentration, if one sees sentient beings who are neither suffering nor happy, neither worried nor joyful, one retains this characteristic and then gives rise to the mind of equanimity, vowing that sentient beings may be neither suffering nor happy, neither joyful nor worried. Because one has skillfully cultivated the concentrative power of equanimity, one sees all sentient beings as neither suffering nor happy, neither joyful nor worried, and as freed from the burning afflictions.

Furthermore, if sentient beings have committed faults, one lets them pass without interrogating them. If one receives respect and affection, one does not rejoice on that account. This is called the mind of equanimity.

This is the meaning of the four immeasurable minds as taught in the Mahayana.

The contemplation of purity has three levels:

1- Beginning practice.

2- Having practiced.

3- Having practiced for a long time.

A beginner should be instructed: First remove the impure layer of skin and contemplate the white skeleton. Bind the attention to the object of contemplation and do not allow it to think of external things. If it thinks of external conditions, immediately gather it back.

One who has practiced should be instructed: Mentally remove all the skin and flesh and contemplate the entire skeleton from the skull downward. Do not allow the mind to think of external things. If it thinks of external conditions, gather it back.

One who has practiced for a long time should be instructed: Remove an inch of skin and flesh from the body and bind the attention to five places: the crown of the head, the forehead, between the eyebrows, the bridge of the nose, and the heart. At these places, fix the attention upon the bones. Do not allow the mind to think of external things. If it thinks of external conditions, gather it back.

One should also observe the mind. If the mind becomes weary, relinquish external characteristics and establish mindfulness upon the object. It is like a monkey tied to a wooden post: although it runs and leaps about all day, it remains tethered to one place and settles down only when utterly exhausted. The object is like the wooden post, mindfulness is like the chain, and the mind is compared to the monkey. It is also like a nursemaid watching over a child to prevent the child from falling. The practitioner’s observation of the mind is likewise. Gradually subdue the mind and cause it to abide upon the object. If the mind abides there for a long time, it accords with the Dharma of meditation. If meditative concentration is attained, there are three characteristics:

– The body is harmonious, joyful, supple, and light.

– The white bones radiate light like white mother-of-pearl.

– The mind abides peacefully.

This is the contemplation of purity. At that time, one immediately attains a mind belonging to the form realm. This is called the meditation method for beginners.

If, while in concentration, one attains the superior mind, there is no need to subdue it or cause it to abide. This is called one-pointedness of mind.

If one can abide within a single inch, one can then strip away everything throughout the body. One does not merely contemplate the human skeleton as red. Having attained this method of contemplation, one relinquishes the red skeleton and proceeds to contemplate the white skeleton. Do not think of external things; if the mind thinks of external conditions, immediately gather it back.

If the mind, purified, abides in the contemplation of bones, one sees white light radiating around the bones and throughout the body, like the sun shining brightly in a clear sky. Once this light has appeared, when one observes with the mind’s eye, one sees everything distinctly. By the power of this light, one sees within the bones phenomena arising and ceasing like the mind, corresponding with the mind, as water flows through a tube of vaidurya. At that time, the mind immediately experiences a bliss with which the sensual pleasure of the lustful cannot be compared.

The contemplation of bodies externally is likewise. In this way, one contemplates a single body and then, in succession, many bodies, ... up to an entire Jambudvipa; and from an entire Jambudvipa, one returns again to a single mind. When one attains mastery in this, this is the samadhi of purity within impurity.

Furthermore, this body is hollow and empty; its bones merely covered by a thin layer of skin—what is there to cherish? It is indeed exceedingly distressing.

ESSENTIAL EXPLANATION OF THE METHODS OF MEDITATION

End of the Upper Fascicle