禪法要解

If a practitioner wishes to seek the concentration on infinite space, he should reflect thus: “Form is the instrument that produces every kind of suffering; beatings, cutting, killing, hunger, cold, aging, illness, and so forth all arise because of form.” Reflecting in this way, he immediately becomes detached from form and attains the sphere of infinite space.

Question: The practitioner presently takes form as his body; how, then, can he abandon it?

Answer: The afflictions are the causes and conditions of form, and they also bind form. Because these afflictions are extinguished, this is called detachment from form.

Furthermore, by cultivating the contemplation of space to break through form, one becomes detached from form.

Furthermore, as the Buddha taught: A bhikshu contemplates the five skandhas within the fourth dhyana as a disease, a sore, an abscess, and a thorn, and as impermanent, suffering, empty, and not-self. By contemplating in this way, he becomes detached from the five skandhas within the fourth dhyana. Because the skandhas depend upon form, it is spoken of simply as detachment from form. Why is this? Because form is utterly extinguished.

Furthermore, when the practitioner contemplates form by separating it into its individual parts, no form can be found. For example, the body has such parts as the head, feet, shoulders, and hands; when these are separated into their individual parts, there is no longer any body. The head has eyes, ears, nose, tongue, beard, hair, bones, flesh, and so forth; when these are separated into their individual parts, there is no longer any head.

The eye consists of the four great elements, the four sense objects, the body faculty, and the eye faculty—ten factors combined together—along with white, black, and so forth, forming a lump of flesh called the eye. When these are separated one by one, there is no eye. Earth and the other elements, when divided into their individual parts, are likewise so.

Question: The eye faculty is produced from the four great elements, but its form cannot be precisely determined; how, then, can it be analyzed?

Answer: The four great elements and the form produced from the four great elements, combined with the subtle, translucent form of the faculty, are called the eye. If this form is removed, there is no eye. Moreover, although this subtle, translucent form cannot be seen, because it possesses resistance it can be divided. Since it can be divided, there is no eye.

Furthermore, that which can see form is called the eye. If the four great elements and the form produced from the four great elements are removed, there is no eye. If there were no eye yet form could still be seen, then the ear could also be an eye.

If the eye is a form-dharma, then, because all form-dharmas can be divided, it can be differentiated. If it can be differentiated, there would be many eyes. If it is said that the minute particles produced from the four great elements are the eye, then there is not a single eye.

If there is absolutely no eye, then not even one eye exists. And if it is said that a minute particle is the eye, this too is incorrect. Why?

Because if a minute particle has spatial extension in all ten directions, it is not called a minute particle. If it is not form, it cannot be called an eye.

Furthermore, the constitution of a minute particle is distinguished into four aspects: form, odor, taste, and tangible object. The eye is none of these four things. Why? Because the eye belongs to the internal ayatanas, whereas the four great elements belong to the external ayatanas. Therefore, minute particles cannot be regarded as the eye. As the Buddha taught, when various conditions combine, the seeing of form is provisionally called the eye, but it has no fixed reality. The ear, nose, tongue, skin, flesh, bones, and so forth are analyzed and refuted in the same way. This is called breaking down the characteristics within the body. External forms, such as palaces, wealth, possessions, wives, children, and so forth, are likewise all analyzed and refuted in this way.

As the Buddha told Radha: “From this day onward, you should break down form, destroy form, and cause form to cease to exist. To be able to analyze it in this way is called detachment from form.”

Furthermore, as the Buddha taught: “If a bhikshu wishes to become detached from form, he must transcend all characteristics of form, extinguish all characteristics of resistance, and give no attention to all diverse characteristics; he then enters the sphere of infinite space.” To transcend all characteristics of form refers to visible form; to extinguish all characteristics of resistance refers to resistant form that cannot be seen; and to give no attention to all diverse characteristics refers to invisible, non-resistant form.

Furthermore, transcending all characteristics of form means transcending such various characteristics of form as blue, yellow, red, white, pink, purple, and so forth; extinguishing resistant objects means extinguishing sound, odor, taste, tangible objects, and so forth; and giving no attention to all diverse characteristics means giving no attention to large, small, long, short, square, round, far, near, and so forth. By becoming detached from all characteristics of form in this way, one enters the sphere of infinite space.

Furthermore, the practitioner fixes his mind upon the spaces within the body—that is, the mouth, nose, throat, eyes, ears, chest, abdomen, and so forth. Having understood that form is affliction and calamity, his mind delights in space. If the mind rests upon form, he gathers it in and causes it to return to space.

When the mind becomes pliant, he gradually expands the spaces within the body until he sees his own physical body as resembling the holes in a lotus root. As his practice becomes increasingly keen, he sees the entire body as space, with no form remaining. External form is likewise so, and the spaces within and without become one and the same space.

At that time, the mind takes infinite and boundless space as its object, becomes detached from the perception of form, and attains peaceful joy. It is like a bird inside a jar: when the jar is broken, the bird is released and flies freely through space without obstruction. This is called the first formless concentration.

The practitioner understands that feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness within the sphere of infinite space are like a disease, a sore, an abscess, and a thorn, and are impermanent, suffering, empty, and not-self. Seeking a subtler concentration, he then becomes detached from space as his object. Why is this?

Because he understands that the mental factor which perceives space is false and unreal: previously it did not exist, now it exists, and after existing it again returns to nonexistence. Having recognized space as a calamity and that it exists because of consciousness, he regards consciousness as real and therefore contemplates consciousness alone, abandoning space as his object. As he cultivates the contemplation of consciousness, he gradually perceives the characteristics of consciousness arising in an unbroken succession, like flowing water or the light of a lamp.

Consciousness of the past, present, and future continues without boundary or measure.

Question: Why did the Buddha say that the domain of consciousness is boundless and immeasurable?

Answer: Because consciousness can take distant objects, it is boundless; because it takes boundless dharmas as its objects, it is immeasurable.

Furthermore, because it previously took boundless space as its object, when boundless space is overcome, consciousness itself accords with boundlessness. Because the practitioner’s mind is pliant, he can extend consciousness until it becomes boundless. This is the domain of infinite consciousness.

Question: This domain of consciousness contains all four skandhas; why is only consciousness mentioned?

Answer: Among all internal dharmas, consciousness is the chief. All mental factors depend upon consciousness. Thus, when consciousness is mentioned, the other factors are also included. Furthermore, in the Desire Realm, the form skandha is chief; in the Form Realm, the feeling skandha is chief; in the spheres of infinite space and infinite consciousness, the consciousness skandha is chief; in the sphere of nothingness, the perception skandha is chief; and in the sphere of neither perception nor non-perception, the formations skandha is chief.

Furthermore, among the three classes of dharmas—body, mind, and mental factors—in the Desire Realm and the Form Realm the body is chief, and therefore the mind follows the body. When there is no body, only the power of the mind is employed.

The mind has two aspects: one takes space as its object, while the other takes itself as its object. Therefore, there must be two spheres: infinite space and infinite consciousness. Because form is overcome first, the first is named after space. Because space is then overcome, the second is named solely after consciousness.

Mental factors also have two aspects: one belongs to perception and the other to formations. Therefore, there are also two spheres: the perception of nothingness and the formations of neither perception nor non-perception.

Furthermore, by taking consciousness as the object, one becomes detached from space. Therefore, although the other skandhas are present, the sphere is named solely after consciousness.

After the practitioner has attained the sphere of infinite consciousness, he again seeks a subtler concentration and contemplates consciousness as an illusion, as explained above.

Furthermore, he contemplates consciousness as an illusion: it is false and deceptive, dependent upon causes and conditions, and therefore not autonomous. When conditions are present, it arises; when conditions are absent, it ceases. Consciousness does not abide in the sense faculty, does not abide in the object, and does not abide between them. It has no abiding place, yet neither is it without an abiding place. Such are the characteristics of consciousness; therefore, the Blessed One said that consciousness is like a magical illusion. Having reflected in this way, the practitioner becomes detached from the sphere of infinite consciousness.

Furthermore, the practitioner reflects: “Just as the five desires are false and deceptive, so too is form. Just as form is false and deceptive, so too is space. Since space is false and deceptive, the characteristic of consciousness is likewise false and deceptive. Yet sentient beings, deluded and attached, designate these as dharmas, though there is only emptiness, nothing whatsoever that is a secure refuge.” Having reflected in this way, one immediately enters the Sphere of Nothingness.

Question: What is the difference between the Sphere of Infinite Space and the Sphere of Nothingness?

Answer: In the former, the mind takes the perception of infinite space as its object; here, the mind takes the perception of nothingness as its object. That is the difference.

Having entered the Sphere of Nothingness, a practitioner of sharp faculties recognizes that feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness still remain therein and consequently becomes disenchanted with this affliction, as previously explained. A person of dull faculties, however, is unable to recognize this.

Furthermore, in connection with abandoning the Sphere of Nothingness, there are three views: first, the view of existence; second, the view of nonexistence; and third, the view of neither existence nor nonexistence.

The view of existence extends from the Desire Realm through the Sphere of Infinite Consciousness.

The view of nonexistence is the Sphere of Nothingness.

The view of neither existence nor nonexistence is the perception of the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception.

This view of nonexistence must be abandoned. Why is this? Although the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception is subtle, it must still be abandoned; how much more so the Sphere of Nothingness.

Having reflected in this way, one abandons the Sphere of Nothingness.

Question: The Buddha-Dharma also teaches emptiness and nothingness. If these are true, why is this said to be a wrong view that must be abandoned?

Answer: In the Buddha-Dharma, emptiness is taught in order to destroy attachment, not as a substantial reality. But to regard the Sphere of Nothingness as real is to fall into a wrong view. After sentient beings there have undergone their karmic recompense, they undergo other recompenses according to the causes and conditions of their karma. Therefore, this view must be eliminated. Although the names are similar, their actual meanings are entirely different.

Furthermore, the practitioner reflects: “Every sphere of perception is coarse and troublesome, like a disease, a boil, an abscess, or being struck by an arrow. The sphere without perception is a state of delusion. The foremost subtle and tranquil state is now the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception.” Having contemplated in this way, one abandons the perceptual sphere of the Sphere of Nothingness and enters the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception.

Question: Is there perception or no perception therein?

Answer: There is perception therein.

Question: If there is perception, why are the seven lower grounds not called concentrations of perception?

Answer: Because in these grounds the constituent of perception is extremely subtle and not acute, and the function of perception is not prominent, it is not called perception. Because the practitioner’s mind is in a state of neither having perception nor lacking perception, the Buddha named it according to the fundamental nature of the concentration, calling it the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception.

A person of dull faculties does not recognize that the four aggregates are present therein and thus regards it as the secure realm of nirvana, giving rise to overweening pride. After dwelling there for eighty thousand kalpas, that person falls back into other realms.

Although the four aggregates therein are subtle, profound, and wondrous, a person of sharp faculties can understand them clearly. Having understood them, that person becomes disenchanted and reflects: “This too is a conditioned dharma formed through combination, a dharma arising from causes and conditions. It is false and unreal, like a disease, a boil, an abscess, or being struck by an arrow. It is impermanent, suffering, empty, and without self. It also serves as a cause and condition for a subsequent existence and must be abandoned. Because of this affliction, one must study the Four Truths.”

Question: When abandoning the other grounds, why was the study of the Four Truths not mentioned?

Answer: Because it was previously said that they are like a disease, a boil, an abscess, or being struck by an arrow, and that they are impermanent, suffering, empty, and without self. This was a concise exposition of the Four Truths; they simply had not yet been explained extensively.

Moreover, those other grounds present neither obstruction nor difficulty, so even ordinary beings subject to outflows can transcend them. This, however, is the summit of the world, and only noble ones who train in the path free from outflows can transcend it. It is like a bird with a cord tied to its leg: although at first it can fly away, when it reaches the end of the cord, it is pulled back.

Ordinary beings are likewise: although they transcend those grounds, Māra is not thereby afraid. But if they transcend the Summit of Existence, Māra becomes greatly afraid. It is as though the cord had snapped and the bird had flown away.

Therefore, when the abandonment of those other grounds was discussed, the Four Truths were not mentioned. The Summit of Existence is the crucial gateway of the three realms; to pass beyond this gateway, one must study the Four Truths.

Question: What are the Four Truths?

Answer: The Truth of Suffering, the Truth of Origin, the Truth of Cessation, and the Truth of the Path.

Suffering is of two kinds: first, bodily suffering; second, mental suffering.

Origin is also of two kinds: first, latent defilements; second, afflictions.

Cessation is also of two kinds: first, nirvana with a remainder of dependence; second, nirvana without a remainder of dependence.

The Path is also of two kinds: first, concentration; second, wisdom.

Furthermore, the Truth of Suffering is of two kinds: first, the truth of suffering; second, the noble truth of suffering. The truth of suffering has the characteristic of affliction; that is, the five aggregates subject to clinging are called the truth of suffering. The noble truth of suffering is so called because, through understanding it, one cultivates the Path.

The Truth of Origin is of two kinds: first, the truth of origin; second, the noble truth of origin. The truth of origin has the characteristic of arising; that is, craving and the other afflictions are called the truth of origin. The noble truth of origin is so called because one cultivates the Path in order to eliminate the afflictions.

The Truth of Cessation is of two kinds: first, the truth of cessation; second, the noble truth of cessation. The truth of cessation has the characteristic of quiescence; that is, the four fruits of the śramaṇa are called the truth of cessation. The noble truth of cessation is so called because one practices the Path in order to realize quiescent cessation.

The Truth of the Path is of two kinds: first, the truth of the Path; second, the noble truth of the Path. The truth of the Path has the characteristic of departing and proceeding toward the goal; that is, the Noble Eightfold Path is called the truth of the Path. Furthermore, each truth has two aspects: its general characteristic and its particular characteristics. The general characteristic of suffering is the five aggregates subject to clinging. The particular characteristics of suffering are the extensive distinctions concerning the aggregate of form, the aggregate of feeling, the aggregate of perception, the aggregate of formations, and the aggregate of consciousness.

The general characteristic of origin is that which can give rise to craving for a body in a subsequent existence.

The particular characteristics of origin are the extensive distinctions concerning craving and the other afflictions, as well as the causes and conditions of the five aggregates subject to clinging produced by karma accompanied by outflows.

The general characteristic of cessation is that which can bring about the complete eradication of craving for a body in a subsequent existence.

The particular characteristics of cessation are the extensive distinctions concerning the eradication of the eighty-nine kinds of fetters.

The general characteristic of the Path is the Noble Eightfold Path. The particular characteristics of the Path are the extensive distinctions extending from patience with the Dharma concerning suffering through the path of one beyond training.

If one does not fully comprehend the Four Truths, one revolves through the five destinations, coming and going in birth and death without ever ceasing. For this reason, the practitioner must contemplate birth, aging, illness, death, and all other sufferings and afflictions, all of which arise because there is a body. It is like all grasses and trees, which arise from the earth.

As stated in the sutra: “Sentient beings throughout the ten directions possess bodies and consequently undergo suffering because there is birth. It is like poisoned food: whether delicious or unpalatable, it causes death. If there were no body and mind, the suffering of death would have nothing upon which to depend.

It is like a fierce wind breaking a great tree; if there were no tree, nothing could be destroyed.” Thus, this briefly explains the fundamental basis upon which body and mind undergo suffering. Just as space is the basis of wind, wood is the basis of fire, earth is the basis of water, so the body is the basis of suffering.

Furthermore, just as earth invariably has the characteristic of solidity, water invariably has the characteristic of moisture, fire invariably has the characteristic of heat, and wind invariably has the characteristic of motion, body and mind invariably have the characteristic of suffering. Why is this? Because there is a body, sufferings such as aging, death, hunger, thirst, heat, cold, wind, rain, and so forth constantly accompany it.

Because there is a mind, sufferings such as sorrow, fear, anger, and jealousy constantly accompany it. If one understands the suffering of the body in the present, then the suffering of the past was likewise. Just as the body suffered in the present and the past, so too will it suffer in the future.

For example, seeing now that rice seed produces rice, one thereby knows that it was so in the past and will also be so in the future. Again, seeing in the present that fire has the characteristic of heat, one thereby knows that fire in the past and future was and will likewise be hot. If there were no body and mind, there would have been no suffering before, there would be no suffering now, and there would be no suffering afterward.

One should know that suffering throughout the three times arises from body and mind; therefore, one should contemplate the truth of suffering. In this way, the mind gives rise to disenchantment.

The causes and conditions of that suffering arise solely from afflictions such as craving and so forth; they do not arise from heaven, from time, from nature, or without causes and conditions. If one is free from the afflictions, there is no birth. One should therefore know that the world arises from afflictions such as craving and so forth. Whenever a person undertakes some action, it first arises from desire. Thus, the afflictions are the causes and conditions of suffering. Furthermore, because of the water of craving, one assumes a body; without the water of craving, one would not assume a body. It is like dry earth, which cannot be used to plaster a wall, but when mixed with water can be used for plastering.

Furthermore, because of the various afflictions, the bodies assumed are not all alike. A person of abundant desire assumes a body bearing many marks of desire. A person of abundant anger assumes a body bearing many marks of anger. A person of abundant delusion assumes a body bearing many marks of delusion. A person with few afflictions assumes a body with few afflictions. Seeing that present karmic results differ, one knows that past causes and conditions differed. In the next life, the differences among the bodies assumed in accordance with the afflictions are likewise: one assumes a body according to one's karma. If there is no anger, one does not assume the body of a venomous snake; the same applies to all other bodies.

Therefore, one should know that afflictions such as craving and so forth are the causes and conditions of all suffering. When the causes and conditions of suffering cease, suffering immediately ends; this is nirvana. Nirvana is called freedom from desire and the elimination of all afflictions. It is eternal and unchanging. Within it there is no birth, no aging, no illness, no death, no suffering from separation from those one loves or from meeting those one hates, but everlasting peace and happiness.

When a practitioner attains final nirvana, one goes utterly nowhere; this is called quiescent cessation. It is like a lamp that goes out when its oil is exhausted: it does not go in any direction. This is called the truth of cessation. As for the means of attaining the path to nirvana, concentration is divided into three kinds, wisdom into two kinds, and morality into three kinds.

Abiding in this morality, one cultivates concentration and wisdom. Regarding the Four Truths, the wisdom capable of decisive discernment is Right View. Relying upon Right View, knowledge of dharmas arises; this is Right Intention. Thus wisdom is said to be divided into two kinds.

Right Concentration, Right Mindfulness, and Right Effort are called concentration, which is divided into three kinds.

Right Speech, Right Action, and Right Livelihood are called morality, which is divided into three kinds.

Because one abides in pure morality, the sprouts of the afflictions do not grow, and their power gradually weakens. It is like sowing seeds out of season, so that the sprouts cannot grow. When the power of the afflictions arrives, the component of concentration can restrain it, just as a great mountain blocks the waters, which cannot break through it. It is also like a spell capable of subduing a venomous snake: although the snake possesses venom, it cannot harm anyone. The component of concentration is likewise. Wisdom can completely uproot the afflictions, just as a great and powerful torrent uproots and sweeps away all the trees along its banks.

The practice of these three components is the true and direct path of the Noble Eightfold Path. It can eliminate the causes of suffering and bring ultimate peace, the eternal bliss of the unconditioned.

For one who initially employs skillful means to cultivate this Dharma gate, there are ten matters:

– First is a focused and upright mind: no external event that comes to disrupt it can cause it to waver. It is like a mountain that does not move even when winds arise from all four directions.

– Second is straightforwardness: upon hearing the teacher expound the Dharma, one does not scrutinize its strengths and shortcomings; one's mind neither increases nor diminishes, and one follows the instruction without doubt. It is like entering a dense forest to gather firewood: straight trees are easy to bring out, whereas crooked trees are difficult to remove. Likewise, in the dense forest of the three realms, straightforward people easily find their way out, while devious people find escape difficult. Within the Buddha-Dharma, only straightforward people can be employed; devious people are cast aside.

– Third is moral shame and moral dread: these are the finest and most magnificent adornments. Moral shame and moral dread are an iron hook that subdues the evil mind. Only one who possesses moral shame and moral dread is truly human. One who lacks both is no different from an animal.

– Fourth is heedfulness: the root of all wholesome dharmas. Those in the world who are heedless lose all beneficial things. Practitioners who are heedless lose the benefit of nirvana. One should know that heedlessness is like an enemy or a thief, and the mind should always remain far from it. One should know that heedfulness is like a king, a father, or a teacher; one must honor and attend upon it without ever departing from it.

– Fifth is seclusion: by means of this seclusion, heedfulness is accomplished. If one remains near the five desires, the faculties will become aroused. Therefore, the body must first leave towns and villages; next, the mind must remain detached and refrain from thinking of worldly affairs.

– Sixth is having few desires: regarding the necessities that sustain life, the mind does not seek an abundance. Seeking much causes one to fall into many anxieties.

– Seventh is contentment: although some people have few desires, they delight in and cling to beautiful things, causing their aspiration for the path to decline. Therefore, the wise seek only what is sufficient.

– Eighth is a mind free from attachment: if disciples, benefactors, learned friends, or relatives come to visit, see one off, or welcome one, many troublesome affairs arise. Such matters ruin one's cultivation of the path; therefore, one should not become attached to them.

– Ninth is taking no delight in worldly pleasures: whether singing and dancing, music, auspicious hours and favorable days, choosing what is favorable or unfavorable, and so forth, one takes no delight in any worldly affair.

– Tenth is patient endurance: when a practitioner seeks the path, one must patiently endure ten things:

1/ The attacks of mosquitoes and gnats.

2/ Venomous snakes and centipedes.

3/ Dangerous wild beasts.

4/ Verbal abuse and slander.

5/ Beatings, assaults, and injury.

6/ Pain and illness.

7/ Hunger.

8/ Thirst.

9/ Cold.

10/ Heat.

The practitioner patiently endures such painful and distressing things, does not allow them to sway the mind, and always overcomes them.

Furthermore, it is like a person who understands the characteristics of an illness, knows its cause, and knows the medicine that can cure it. Upon examining a patient, one prescribes medicine according to the patient's needs, and before long the illness is cured. A practitioner is likewise: one knows the true characteristic of suffering, knows the cause of suffering, knows the path that ends suffering, and finds a good teacher from whom to learn. In this way, before long one attains peace and tranquility.

Question: Having attained the Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception and entered deeply into meditative concentration, only the subtlest and weakest fetters remain, and the mind is easily made pliant. If there is no need to use various causes, conditions, and analogies to contemplate the Four Truths, how would that differ from a lack of faith?

Answer: It does not refer only to one state of the Summit of Existence, but encompasses all states of the Summit of Existence. In each of them, one contemplates the four skandhas belonging to the form realm as impermanent, suffering, empty, and non-self—as a disease, an ulcer, or an arrow lodged in the heart. Impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and non-self are all conditioned dharmas, falsely fabricated.

One contemplates nirvana as supremely wondrous, peaceful, secure, and blissful; it is not a fabricated dharma, but is true and without falsity. When the three poisons and the three forms of decline are extinguished, the suffering of body and mind ceases. Continually censuring the four skandhas and their causes and conditions is called the Truth of Suffering and the Truth of Accumulation; praising nirvana and the path to nirvana is called the Truth of Cessation and the Truth of the Path.

Having attained the four dhyanas and the four formless concentrations, the practitioner's mind is already gentle and pliant. If one seeks the five superknowledges while relying upon the fourth dhyana, they are easily attained. If one relies upon the first, second, or third dhyana, they can still be attained, but they are exceedingly difficult to seek, and even if attained, they are not secure.

Why is this? In the first dhyana, initial and sustained thought disturb concentration; in the second dhyana, there is excessive gladness; and in the third dhyana, there is excessive bliss—all of which are contrary to concentration. The four bases of spiritual power are all characteristics of concentration.

Only the fourth dhyana is without suffering, bliss, sorrow, or gladness; the breath neither goes out nor comes in. It is the abiding place of the noble ones, peaceful, secure, and blissful.

Therefore, the practitioner should rely upon the fourth dhyana to cultivate the four bases of spiritual power. These are: the accomplishment of spiritual power through volitional concentration and formations of striving; through concentration of diligence; through concentration of mind; and through concentration of contemplation and formations of striving. Abiding upon these, there is nothing that cannot be accomplished.

Question: What is the accomplishment of spiritual power through volitional concentration and formations of striving?

Answer: Volition is the name for aspiration. Concentration is the name for one-pointedness of mind, without increase or decrease. Formations of striving is the name for faith, mindfulness, skillful wisdom, joy, bliss, and so forth, which assist in accomplishing volitional concentration.

Because concentration is attained with volition as its guiding factor, it is called volitional concentration. Concentration of diligence, concentration of mind, and concentration of contemplation are likewise. When contemplating volition, the practitioner must not allow it to increase or decrease.

One should not be inwardly too restrained while outwardly greatly distracted; it must be made gentle, even, harmonious, and well-regulated before it can be employed. It is like tuning the strings of a lute to the proper tension—neither too tight nor too loose—so that any melody may be played at will. Diligence, mind, and contemplation are likewise.

It is like a practitioner learning to fly: the wish to fly is called volition; gathering in all distracted thoughts and practicing the assisting dharmas is called diligence of mind. Being able to lift the body and cast off the gross heaviness of body and mind, such as sleepiness and restlessness, the mind then becomes light. Because the mind is light, it can lift the body; this is called mind. Assessing how much volition, diligence, and mental power are required to lift the body, while the subtle forms within and without have not yet been entirely broken through, is called contemplation. By relying upon the four bases of spiritual power, one can perfect all virtues—how much more so the five superknowledges.

Question: Among the five superknowledges, which one arises first?

Answer: Whichever accords with one's inclination arises first.

Question: If so, why is the superknowledge of transformation mentioned first?

Answer: The five superknowledges are employed chiefly for the sake of sentient beings. Why is this? A wisdom-liberated arhat, after attaining arhatship, may think: "Many sentient beings have dull faculties. They do not believe in the affairs of the Path and are contemptuous of the Dharma. My attainment of the superknowledge of the exhaustion of the outflows was difficult; why, then, should I not manifest superknowledge to teach and transform them, instead of allowing them to fall into transgression? Moreover, the Buddha, out of great compassion, benefits sentient beings. As his disciple, I should use superknowledge to benefit sentient beings."

In this way, sentient beings are for the most part benefited through such manifestations. Miraculous transformations move both the noble and the lowly, and the entire assembly submits; the other superknowledges do not have the same effect. Therefore, the superknowledge of transformation is mentioned first.

Question: Because the fire element predominates in the bodies of devas, their bodies emit light, and they can also travel swiftly through space. Because the wind element predominates in the bodies of spirits, their bodies are light and unobstructed. Because the water element predominates in the bodies of dragons, water arises at a thought, and they can also transform and move about. Because the earth element predominates in the human body, while the characteristics of movement and lightness are slight, how can a human being fly?

Answer: Precisely because the characteristics of movement and lightness are slight in the earth element of the human body, human beings seek to learn superknowledge. What need have devas and dragons to employ superknowledge? Although earth is heavy, it moves through the power of water. Likewise, through the power of mind, the body can be lifted. For example, when a monkey falls from a great height, its body is not injured, whereas a person who falls is injured. Through the light, nimble, and vigorous power of its mind, the monkey is not harmed. One should know that bodily superknowledge is likewise, arising through the vigorous power of mind.

It is also like a person who floats: although in deep water, the person does not sink, and through the mind's skillful means can keep the body afloat. Therefore, one should know that although the human body is heavy, through the vigorous power of mind it can fly through space.

Question: This may be believed, but how does one train in it?

Answer: If a practitioner abides in the fourth dhyana, relies upon the four bases of spiritual power, gathers the mind one-pointedly in mindfulness, and contemplates every part of the body as empty space, like the hollow passages of a lotus root, maintaining the perception that the body is light and practicing continuously without ceasing, the body will become united with the mind, as form unites with fire. The characteristic of bodily heaviness is extinguished, and only the light body remains, united with Volition, Diligence, and Contemplation, as well as with the assisting dharmas. Through the power of wholesome practices such as Volition and the others, the body readily complies, like steel in a fire, which becomes soft, pliable, and easy to use.

Moreover, form produced by the four great elements of the form realm becomes harmoniously united within this body, making the body light so that it can fly away at will. It is like a person who takes medicine: when the mind becomes lucid, the body feels at ease. Or it is like the pure form produced by the four great elements of the form realm being present within this body, causing the eyes to become bright and clear. It is like a person learning to dance, who through continual practice gradually becomes more proficient than others. It is like a young bird learning to fly, gradually flying farther and farther. Bodily superknowledge is likewise: when first attained, one may fly one or two zhang; gradually, one can fly far away.

This superknowledge of transformation is of four kinds:

1- The body flies through space like a bird.

2- One makes what is distant become near.

3- One disappears in one place and appears in another.

4- One moves as swiftly as thought.

In the time it takes to snap one's fingers, sixty thoughts arise. Within a single thought, one can cross immeasurable asamkhyeyas of lands, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, arriving wherever one intends. Through this superknowledge, the body attains mastery: one body divides into many bodies; many bodies unite into one body; what is large becomes small; what is small becomes large; one becomes as heavy as Mount Sumeru or as light as a feather. Such deeds are performed at will.

Furthermore, a bodhisattva who attains this bodily superknowledge can, within a single thought, cross lands as numerous as the sands of the Ganges. Although sentient beings see the bodhisattva coming to them, the bodhisattva remains unmoving in his own place, teaching the Dharma and transforming beings there without departing from here.

There may be devas and humans who, through delusion, cling to permanence. The bodhisattva can use superknowledge to liberate them by manifesting the burning of the trichiliocosm. Sentient beings see the trichiliocosm burn and disintegrate, while the lands themselves suffer no harm.

If sentient beings give rise to arrogance, the bodhisattva manifests holding a vajra mace in his hand, with fire issuing from the mace. Those who see it become frightened, submit, and bow in reverence. If someone delights in the body of a wheel-turning sage-king, the bodhisattva manifests the body of a wheel-turning sage-king and teaches that person the Dharma.

Or he manifests the body of Shakra, Lord of the Devas; or the body of Mara; or that of a shravaka, pratyekabuddha, or Buddha. According to whatever body they delight in, he manifests it and teaches them the Dharma.

Or a bodhisattva may sit cross-legged in empty space, emitting various kinds of light from all sides of his body, and then expound the Dharma to them. Or, when sentient beings delight in many beautiful colors, he may manifest a trichiliocosm made of the seven treasures, adorned with banners, canopies, flowers, and a hundred kinds of music, and expound the Dharma within it. Or he may transform the trichiliocosm into an ocean whose surface is entirely covered with blue and red lotus flowers, and expound the Dharma upon them.

Or he may sit atop Mount Sumeru and expound the Dharma in the voice of Brahma, so that all lands hear it. At times, sentient beings may see no form but hear only the voice expounding the Dharma; or he may manifest the body of a gandharva and use musical sounds to gladden their minds, after which he expounds the Dharma. Or he may manifest as a Dragon King, using flashes of lightning and peals of thunder to expound the Dharma.

Employing various causes, conditions, and skillful means, he manifests such supernatural transformations to awaken and guide sentient beings.

Question: If such supernatural powers transform things, why are those things not false and unreal?

Answer: The practitioner has already understood that all dharmas are false and deceptive, like illusions and magical transformations. It is like molding soft clay into whatever form one wishes. Even a person endowed with merit can cause snow to fall in summer, flowers to bloom in winter, and rivers to cease flowing. Again, when an immortal becomes angry, he can turn tigers, wolves, and lions into stone; how much more, then, can the supernatural power arising from samadhi transform and produce things?

Furthermore, within every object there are constituent portions of the elements. By taking hold of the characteristic of one such portion and using supernatural power to enlarge it, the other portions become concealed. As a sutra says: “Bhiksus who possess supernatural power and have attained mastery of mind may see a great tree and wish to turn it into earth, whereupon the tree immediately becomes earth. Why is this? Because the tree contains a constituent portion of earth. The same applies to water, fire, and wind. If they wish it to become gold, silver, or various precious substances, they can make it so at will. Why? Because the tree contains a pure constituent portion.”

Question: If things transformed in this way have neither root nor source, how can this occur?

Answer: It has already been explained that in empty space there are minute particles formed from the four great elements. Through the power of the mind, these particles are brought together, and they may even be transformed into a person. It is like a deceased person who, according to the causes and conditions of merit and wrongdoing, is born either in a heavenly realm or in hell: minute particles come together and are transformed into a body in the same way. Such things are manifestations of supernatural transformation.

A practitioner who wishes to seek the divine ear should likewise take the fourth dhyana as the basis and cultivate the four bases of supernatural power as explained above. Having regulated and softened the mind, the practitioner focuses mindfulness upon the sounds of the assembly, retaining the characteristics of the various sounds heard and continually recollecting them. If the mind turns toward something else, it must be gathered back.

By constantly cultivating this recollection with one-pointed mind, there will immediately arise within the ear a pure subtle form produced from the four great elements of the form realm. This is called cultivating the divine ear. With this divine ear, the practitioner hears the sounds of immeasurable lands throughout the ten directions: the voices of devas, humans, dragons, asuras, gandharvas, candalas, mahoragas, hungry ghosts, animals, and others.

All the sounds of suffering in the hells—loud or soft, coarse or subtle, and so forth—are heard clearly. As the bodhisattva’s concentrated mind gradually deepens, the bodhisattva comes to hear the voices of the Buddhas of the ten directions. Hearing the Dharma spoken by the Buddhas, the bodhisattva does not grasp at its characteristics.

Because the Dharma is true and supreme, the bodhisattva does not rely upon words but relies upon the profound meaning.

What is the profound meaning? It is knowing that all dharmas are empty, signless, and without activity, and therefore not giving rise to wrong views. Even with respect to meaning, no meaning is attained; nothing within it can be attained, nor is there any characteristic of attainment. This is relying upon the profound meaning and not relying upon words.

Furthermore, the practitioner relies upon sutras of definitive meaning and does not rely upon sutras whose meaning is not definitive. For one who understands sutras of definitive meaning and is able to rely upon their meaning, all sutras are of definitive meaning. Their ultimate meaning is emptiness, for its characteristics cannot be expressed; therefore, all sutras are of definitive meaning. For one who does not rely upon meaning, none of the sutras is of definitive meaning. Why? Because, lacking profound wisdom, that person follows sounds, whereas the true characteristic of those sounds also enters into the profound meaning and is entirely inexpressible. This is the distinction concerning sutras of definitive meaning.

Furthermore, the practitioner relies upon wisdom and does not rely upon consciousness. Why? Because the practitioner knows that the characteristics of this consciousness arise from the conjunction of causes and conditions, and thus have no intrinsic nature; they have no form, offer no resistance, cannot be seen, do not perceive, and do not know, while indecision and regret are like illusions.

When the characteristics of consciousness are known in this way, consciousness itself is wisdom. Therefore, one relies upon wisdom and does not rely upon consciousness. Although understanding still arises in the practitioner, whether it belongs to consciousness or to wisdom, the practitioner does not become attached to it.

Knowing the suchness-characteristic of consciousness, the practitioner sees that consciousness itself is the characteristic of wisdom. Thus, this characteristic of wisdom is explained for the sake of sentient beings.

Furthermore, the practitioner relies upon the Dharma and does not rely upon a person. Why? Because within the Buddha-Dharma there are indeed persons who are impure and have not attained liberation.

Yet all dharmas are without self and without person; the existence of persons and selves is spoken of only in accordance with worldly convention. Therefore, the practitioner relies upon the Dharma and does not rely upon a person. This Dharma means the nature of all dharmas.

The nature of dharmas is the nature of non-arising. That nature of non-arising is ultimate emptiness. That ultimate emptiness is inexpressible.

Why? Because words are used to expound the Dharma, yet within the Dharma there are no words, and within words there is no Dharma. Words have no characteristic of words; all spoken words are not the characteristic of speech.

Therefore, a sutra says: “Neither indication nor speech is the Buddha-Dharma.” When practitioners use the divine ear to hear the Dharma of the Buddhas, they do not give rise to views that grasp at either persons or dharmas. If they discriminate between these two characteristics, it is not the Buddha-Dharma. If they do not perceive these two characteristics, it is the Buddha-Dharma.

By relying upon the power of the divine ear, practitioners hear the profound Dharma and then teach and transform sentient beings. This is the supernatural power of the divine ear.

If practitioners wish to attain the knowledge of others’ minds, they should first contemplate their own minds, retaining the characteristics of the mind’s arising, abiding, and cessation, and also knowing its characteristics of defilement, purity, concentration, distraction, and so forth. They should further contemplate whether the objects apprehended by the mind are defiled or pure, near or distant, many or few, and so forth.

Having grasped the characteristics of the mind both internally and externally, they then observe the bodily appearances of sentient beings, retaining the characteristics of minds filled with desire, anger, pride, stinginess, jealousy, sorrow, or fear, as well as the characteristics of mind manifested through sounds, speech, and various actions, and so forth. They reflect in this way: “Just as my mind arises, abides, and ceases, so too does the mind of that person.”

Knowing the objects apprehended by one’s own mind, one understands that it is the same for others. One’s own mind has such physical expressions, speech, and characteristics of action; thus one continually studies the characteristics of mind. Having cultivated in this way, the practitioner attains the supernatural knowledge of others’ minds.

At that time, merely by directing attention toward the mind and mental factors of another person, the practitioner sees them as clearly as a keen-sighted person sees fish in clear water, perceiving them all, whether large or small, beautiful or ugly. Although the fish are covered by the water, the water is clear, and therefore it does not obstruct the person’s sight. In the same way, through the knowing power of the supernatural knowledge of others’ minds, the practitioner can see the minds of sentient beings even though those minds are concealed by their bodies.

Having attained knowledge of others’ minds, when expounding the Dharma before a great assembly, one must first know their minds: know what practices those beings undertake with body and mind, what causes and conditions they have, what characteristics they possess, and what they delight in. Because one knows that one’s own mind is purified, one knows that the minds of sentient beings can likewise be purified. Just as in a bright mirror, whatever forms and colors appear before it—whether long or short, square or round, coarse or fine, and so forth—are reflected exactly according to their characteristics, without increase or decrease. Why is this? Because the mirror is clear and bright. Although the mirror makes no distinctions, it reveals those characteristics.

The practitioner is likewise. Because the practitioner’s own mind is purified, and because dharmas have no fixed characteristics and are always pure, the practitioner completely knows the minds and mental factors of sentient beings. If someone in the assembly is filled with lust, the practitioner immediately knows that person’s mind and expounds the Dharma so that the person may abandon lust. The same applies to anger. Why is this? Because the true characteristic of mind is undefiled, free from anger, and free from delusion.

If someone in the assembly seeks the sravaka vehicle, the practitioner also knows that person’s mind and expounds the Dharma accordingly; yet while expounding the Dharma, the practitioner knows that the nature of Dharma contains nothing small.

If someone seeks the pratyekabuddha vehicle, the practitioner also knows that person’s mind and expounds the Dharma accordingly; yet while expounding the Dharma, the practitioner knows that the nature of Dharma likewise contains nothing intermediate.

If someone seeks the Mahayana, the practitioner also knows that person’s mind and expounds the Dharma accordingly; yet while expounding the Dharma, the practitioner knows that the nature of Dharma contains nothing great.

In this way, the practitioner expounds the Dharma to sentient beings according to their minds, yet does not discriminate the characteristics of mind. Although expounding the Dharma by distinguishing the three vehicles, the practitioner does not impair the Dharma-nature. Because the Dharma-nature is not impaired, the practitioner completely knows the mental activities of all sentient beings.

Although knowing the minds of others through one’s own mind, the practitioner neither accords with nor opposes either this mind or that mind. The practitioner also knows that the successive moments of mind of all sentient beings are like flowing water. Just as the nature of mind is known, so too is the Dharma-nature.

When the practitioner uses the knowledge of others’ minds to know the minds of sentient beings and expound the Dharma to them, no harm is done. This is called the supernormal knowledge of others’ minds.

A practitioner who wishes to know former lives must first clearly recollect recent events: what has just passed, then what passed the previous night, the previous day, the day before that, and so forth. In this way, the practitioner recollects an entire month, then goes back from the present year to childhood. It is like a traveler who reaches the intended destination and then reflects upon and recalls the places through which the traveler has passed.

After practicing in this way, the practitioner skillfully cultivates the power of concentration and recalls the time of birth and the time spent in the womb, knowing that after dying in that place, one entered this womb. The practitioner knows one life, two lives, three lives, up to a hundred lives, a thousand lives, ten thousand lives, and immeasurable hundreds of millions of lives. Through the knowledge of former lives, the practitioner knows past events concerning both oneself and others, recollecting and knowing all that occurred throughout kalpas as numerous as the sands of the Ganges.

The practitioner uses knowledge of former lives to teach and transform sentient beings, saying: “In that place, I belonged to such a family and bore such a name; I lived in such a way and experienced such suffering, happiness, and length of life.” The practitioner also recounts the events those beings themselves experienced. Through the power of knowledge of former lives, the practitioner knows the causes and conditions of the transgressions and merits of sentient beings in previous lives—that is, the causes and conditions pertaining to sravakas, pratyekabuddhas, and Buddhas—and expounds the Dharma according to those causes and conditions.

Furthermore, through the power of the knowledge of former lives, the practitioner knows that one formerly planted roots of virtue in the presence of the Buddhas but did not dedicate them to unsurpassed, complete enlightenment, and therefore will now dedicate them to unsurpassed, complete enlightenment. The practitioner also knows that when past dharmas cease, they go nowhere, and that when future dharmas arise, they come from nowhere. Although knowing that past existence has no beginning, the practitioner does not give rise to the view of beginninglessness. Although seeing sentient beings in future lives pass into nirvana, the practitioner likewise does not give rise to an extreme view.

When the practitioner recollects former lives, roots of virtue increase, while the causes and conditions of transgressions accumulated throughout immeasurable lives are completely extinguished. Why is this? Because the practitioner knows that all dharmas have no characteristic of being new or old.

Having attained such wisdom, the practitioner contemplates all conditioned dharmas and all the suffering and happiness experienced throughout samsara as though seeing events in a dream. Therefore, while remaining in samsara, the practitioner’s mind does not become weary or disheartened, but instead gives rise to compassion for all sentient beings, knowing that all dharmas bear the characteristic of being fabricated. The practitioner thinks: “Throughout the thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of millions of immeasurable kalpas during which I have come and gone in samsara, all has been false and unreal.

The coming and going of all sentient beings in samsara is likewise. If the four great elements and the four skandhas did not exist, that would be reality. Ultimately, the four great elements and the four skandhas do not arise.”

Furthermore, through the knowledge of former lives, the practitioner recollects having once been a wheel-turning sage king and recognizes that the pleasures then enjoyed were destroyed by impermanence. The pleasures of Sakra, Lord of the Devas, were likewise destroyed by impermanence. There are pure and beautiful lands containing Buddhas and bodhisattvas of supremely beautiful form who turn the wheel of Dharma, yet all are impermanent—how much more so other things.

Having reflected in this way, the practitioner’s mind becomes disenchanted and detached. Relying upon the knowledge of former lives, the practitioner enters into contemplation of impermanence and emptiness, seeing that all dharmas are empty and impermanent, yet sentient beings, through delusion, cling to them. The practitioner therefore gives rise to compassion for those sentient beings.

By cultivating this compassionate mind, the practitioner gradually perfects great compassion. After attaining great compassion, the practitioner is kept in mind by the Buddhas of the ten directions, and the bodhisattvas praise the merit of that attainment. This is called the supernormal knowledge of former lives.

A practitioner who wishes to seek the divine eye must first retain the sign of light, such as the light of a lamp, a fire, a jewel, the sun, the moon, the stars at night, and so forth. Having retained this sign of light, during the day the practitioner closes the eyes, but at night does not, and simply fixes mindfulness upon the sign of light just as it was seen by the eyes. The practitioner constantly cultivates mindfulness of light, binds the mind to the light, and thinks of nothing else.

If the mind wanders, the practitioner gathers it back and makes it abide in one place. At that time, the visible form produced by the four great elements of the form realm is purified, and within this eye, the eye is called divine. Because it is produced by the four great elements of the deva realm, it is called the divine eye.

The purified eye of the sages and noble ones is also called the divine eye. Once the practitioner has attained this divine eye, mountains such as Sumeru and Cakravada, great trees, and the various lands can no longer obstruct the practitioner’s vision. With this unobstructed eye, the practitioner can see immeasurable and innumerable Buddhas and beautiful lands throughout the ten directions.

At that time, the practitioner can know that all Buddhas are one Buddha. The practitioner also sees that one Buddha is all Buddhas, because the Dharma-nature is not impaired. Just as the practitioner sees the characteristics of the Buddha, so too does the practitioner see the characteristics of one’s own body.

Because the characteristics of one’s own body are pure, the characteristics of all dharmas are likewise. Just as the Buddha is seen to be pure, so too are the disciples, without two distinct characteristics. The practitioner also sees all sentient beings in the lands of the ten directions—those in the hells, among animals, hungry ghosts, devas, and humans, except for beings in the formless realm—and sees their births and deaths, their beauty and ugliness, without exception.

The practitioner knows all the causes, conditions, and karmic results of sentient beings throughout the six realms in the ten directions. Through the causes and conditions of wholesome karma, those sentient beings are born among devas and humans. Because of unwholesome karma, these sentient beings are born in the three evil realms.

Through this divine eye, the practitioner attains the power of wisdom. Therefore, although seeing sentient beings, the practitioner does not give rise to the perception of sentient beings. Within all dharmas, there is no perception of sentient beings. Although seeing karma and its results succeed one another, the practitioner also enters into the realization that within all dharmas there is neither karma nor karmic result. Although the divine eye sees all visible forms, through the power of wisdom the practitioner does not grasp the characteristics of form; all such forms are empty.

Furthermore, whether obstructed or unobstructed, far or near, above or below, the practitioner sees them all completely. The practitioner can see the beautiful, subtle, and pure bodies of the devas in the Form Realm, while they cannot see the practitioner; even the great devas cannot see the practitioner. Such are all the meanings of supernormal powers, as explained extensively in the discussion of supernormal powers in the Mahayana.

ESSENTIAL EXPLANATION OF THE METHODS OF MEDITATION

End of the Second Fascicle