Dharma of Teachings, Dharma of Mind

May 10 2003, Morning Lecture

During this retreat, I will explain the practice of Chan, how one realizes liberation, and the meaning of no-self and enlightenment.

The Dharma of the Teachings

All human problems originate in the mind. The activities of our mind lead to actions that have consequences, and all this results in suffering as well as happiness. When we experience suffering and happiness, we respond with actions that create more suffering and more happiness. When we are unhappy we seek happiness and when we find happiness we fear losing it. For example, when we are sick or events are not going well for us, unless we master our own minds, they will be adversely influenced. According to internal and external conditions, our minds will fluctuate between happiness and unhappiness. This is vexation.

Recognizing this, the Buddha taught us that the activities of the mind lead to more suffering than happiness. No external power other than our own minds causes this. What the Buddha taught is not shallow idealism but truths that stress how causes and conditions affect our experience. These causes and conditions result from our acts of body, speech, and mind in this as well many previous lives. All these activities create consequences, resulting in the body we now have and the environment we now experience. Therefore, our present circumstances originate in and are rooted in the mind. This is a broad description of karma.

When we clearly understand how our minds create the conditions that manifest in our lives, we can also understand how this mind created what we call the “self”. While having this self can be said to be good, it is not absolutely good because our lives have many imperfections, and we often feel dissatisfied and insecure. Therefore, we practice Chan in order to solve this fundamental problem–that the mind is the cause of our own suffering. Chan helps us use our own mind-power to avoid being adversely influenced by the body and the environment, and thus create less karma. To fully accomplish this is called being enlightened, or seeing one’s self-nature.

Chan, indeed, all of Buddhism, is based on this theory of how the mind creates its own suffering, and how one can practice the Dharma – what the Buddha taught – to relieve suffering. This theory we can call the Dharma of the Teachings and it consists basically of methods for training the mind to cease creating the causes and conditions for suffering. Without this theory as a basis, Chan practice would be meaningless. Chan is training the mind to ultimately realize the Mind Dharma. To realize the Mind Dharma, you first hear the Dharma of the Teachings, and then you practice accordingly.

The Mind Dharma

If you can attain the Mind Dharma without practicing the methods of Chan, you don’t need the Dharma of the Teachings. Otherwise, you need the Dharma of the Teachings to practice towards realizing the Dharma of Mind.

Here is a story that illustrates the meaning of Mind Dharma. In the sixth century (C.E.), the twenty-eighth generation disciple of the Buddha, the Indian monk Bodhidharma, went to China to spread the Dharma. He traveled from south to north without attracting many disciples. When he arrived at Pine Mountain in Hunan Province, he meditated for nine years facing a wall in a cave. Finally a young monk named Huike came and offered himself as a disciple, but Bodhidharma declined his offer. It was cold and snowing, and Huike just stood outside of the cave hoping that Bodhidharma would accept him. When the snow had reached Huike’s knees, Bodhidharma looked out and saw Huike still standing there. According to legend, Bodhidharma also saw that Huike had cut off one of his arms to demonstrate his sincerity. Convinced that Huike was sincere, Bodhidharma asked him what he wanted to know.

Huike replied, “Master, can you put my mind at peace?”

Bodhidharma answered, “Show me your mind and I will put it at peace.”

Huike had been standing in the snow for a long time, and by then had no wandering thoughts. His attachment to any sense of self was also gone. So when he looked into his mind to find it, he could not.

He told Bodhidharma, “I can’t find my mind.”

Bodhidharma replied, “See, I have already put your mind at peace.”

Upon hearing these words Huike immediately attained the Mind Dharma, that is to say, he was enlightened.

When Bodhidharma asked Huike to find his mind, Huike could not because he no longer had a self-center. Originally, his dependent and resisting mind was seeking to escape vexations. Now, he no longer had a mind that depended on Bodhidharma to give him a solution. Not finding his resisting, dependent, and seeking mind, all of which are the mind of the “self”, his enlightened mind manifested. It is not that Bodhidharma gave him something concrete and tangible; rather, he helped Huike look inside his own mind to discover no-mind. This no-mind is also called the mind of wisdom, and it was this Dharma of Mind that Bodhidharma transmitted to Huike and to generations of Chan followers.

Afternoon Lecture: “Abiding Nowhere, Give Rise to Mind”

As we use it, the term “no-mind” describes a mind in which there is no attachment or self-centeredness whatsoever, a mind in which there is no dependence, no resistance, and no expectation. This is a mind without craving, anger, doubt, and jealousy, the emotions that arise when we are insecure and seek safety, or when we are unhappy and seek happiness. If we can put down these negative mind-states, then it is possible for wisdom to arise. This arising of the mind of wisdom is also called enlightenment, or “seeing the nature.” Seeing the nature means seeing one’s own Buddha nature, which is that of emptiness. This means that the “self” that we take to be inherent in our being is in fact empty, without enduring characteristics. A Chinese phrase to describe enlightenment is “to illumine the mind and see the nature.”

Here is another story about Mind Dharma. Master Huineng, who was later recognized as the Sixth Patriarch of Chan, was still a woodcutter when he walked past a house and by chance heard someone within reciting lines from the Diamond Sutra. He heard these words that affected him greatly: “Abiding nowhere, give rise to mind.”

These words made a deep impression on Huineng. “Abiding nowhere” means that while the mind has a function, it should not fixate on any phenomena. Rather, it should reflect phenomena like a mirror, without being affected by them. A mirror will reflect objects in front of it, but when the objects move away the mirror no longer reflects them. In other words, to the mirror, the reflections are “non-abiding.”

Furthermore, in a very high-quality mirror, the reflections will appear without distortion. So, “abiding nowhere” means that one should be aware of the vexations of the mind, but not attach to them. “Give rise to mind” refers to a mind that is without attachment but still functions, and this function is wisdom.

Huineng was so moved by these words that he asked the man who was chanting where he could find someone who could teach him about the sutra. The man told him to visit Master Hongren, who had a deep knowledge of the Diamond Sutra. However, when Huineng arrived at Hongren’s monastery, the master did not teach him any Dharma. He merely sent Huineng to the kitchen to mill rice. And when Hongren taught the Dharma to the other monks, Huineng was not allowed to listen.

This situation, in which Huineng was depending on Hongren to give him teaching, was similar to Huike at first depending on Bodhidharma. However, Hongren understood that Huineng had the capacity to discover the Mind Dharma for himself. Since the Mind Dharma cannot be transmitted, Hongren’s method was to let Huineng discover the Mind Dharma by himself. And indeed, Huineng succeeded in finding it by himself. But originally, Huineng thought that non-abiding meant no vexation, and that wisdom was something like being a mirror, as if they were tangible. After eight months in the kitchen he discovered no-mind, and realized that vexation and wisdom were themselves empty. Master Hongren gave transmission to Huineng, thus designating him as his Dharma heir.

In keeping with non-abiding, the method you should use [on this retreat] is to always keep the body and the mind in the present moment. Please put down all thoughts of the past, put down thoughts of the future, and practice just remaining in the present. Be aware of your body and the environment around you, but do not be influenced by either. Do not allow them to create extra thoughts in your mind. Your only thought is to focus on your method. If you are walking, just walk. If you are counting your breath, just count the breath. If you are using the huatou, that is your exclusive focus. If you are contemplating the breath, just contemplate the breath. Whatever your body is doing in the present moment, be present with that, otherwise you will not be able to put down the present.

Evening Lecture: Huineng’s Verse on No-form

Tonight I will begin talking about the verse on wuxiang, or “no-form,” by Huineng:

Mastery of the teachings and mastery of mind

Are like the sun in the empty sky.

Only by transmitting the Dharma of seeing the nature

Can one emerge into the world and shatter erroneous doctrines.

Although in the Dharma itself there is no sudden or gradual,

In confusion and enlightenment there is slowness and speed.

Yet this gateway into seeing the nature

Cannot be fully comprehended by the ignorant.

Although myriad teachings abound,

Combined with principle they are ultimately one.

Within the dark abode of vexations

One should continually give rise to the sun of wisdom.

When erroneous mind-states come, vexations arrive;

When the correct comes, the vexations are removed.

(Translation by Master Sheng Yen and Douglas Gildow)

This is only a portion of Huineng’s verse on no-form, and we will try to cover as much as we can. The main thing I want to do is to explain Huineng’s teaching on formlessness.

According to the belief in Shakyamuni Buddha’s time, to be fully liberated meant becoming an arhat, and to become an arhat one must be a monk or a nun. But to Huineng, anyone who practices in accordance with the principle of no-form can be liberated. So, originally, liberation meant that one had transcended the birth-and-death cycle of samsara by entering nirvana. This is the way of an arhat. However, in the view of Master Huineng, liberation meant that one no longer had vexations and was no longer influenced by the environment, but one also remained in the world to practice and to help others. In this Mahayana view, liberation does not require ordination, and one does not need to leave this world. This is the way of the bodhisattva.

How do the words from the Diamond Sutra relate to “no-form,” or “formlessness?” The sutra discusses formlessness in relation to both time and space. In relation to time, the word “form” here is not the form of the five skandhas — form, sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness–the five aggregates of the “self.” Here, it means something more like “phenomenon” or “objective perception.” These forms are actually thoughts relating to the past, present, and future. Here on retreat, we are already practicing dropping thoughts of past and future, and just keeping our mind in the present. The goal is ultimately to drop attachment to even the present mind and its forms.

The second aspect of formlessness relates to space, and this includes oneself, other people, and sentient beings. The self we call the “I”, while other people are those in contrast to this “I”. Sentient beings are all forms of sentient life. In discussing no-form, we should understand that anything we perceive is constantly changing, and therefore impermanent, without inherent self-nature. Self, others, and sentient beings are all objects of perception and likewise impermanent.

The temporal aspect of form relates to past, present, and future mind, and the spatial aspect relates to self, others, and sentient beings. Nevertheless, the forms of time and space are completely interlinked, and it is impossible to draw a firm line between the two. But all temporal and spatial forms are impermanent, which means that they are empty of self-nature and therefore ultimately formless.

“Abiding nowhere, give rise to mind” means that one must realize – not just know intellectually – that forms in time are transient and ultimately lack self-nature. Likewise, spatial forms are also in flux, impermanent, and lack self-nature. For these reasons, one does not abide in forms of time or space, and does not cling to them.

“Give rise to mind” refers to the arising of the wisdom function when we do not cling to forms. But wisdom itself is a form, so one does not abide in it either, and one does not attach to it. Instead, one goes beyond wisdom to realize no-mind. So, this is the no-form, or formlessness, that Huineng speaks of in the Platform Sutra.

Mastery of Teachings, Mastery of Mind

Let’s now look at the first line of Huineng’s verse:

Mastery of the teachings and mastery of mind

Are like the sun in the empty sky.

In this line, the Chinese shoutong has been translated here as “mastery of the teachings,” and xintong as “mastery of [one’s] mind.” So, from this interpretation, shoutong means mastery of the Dharma of the Teachings, and xintong means mastery of the Mind Dharma. However, to have mastery of either, you must actually experience the Mind Dharma.

If you can directly master the Mind Dharma, there is no need to study the Dharma of the Teachings. Otherwise, you can begin with the Dharma of Teachings to help you ultimately realize the Mind Dharma. At that time you will see that the Dharma of the Teachings and the Mind Dharma are one and the same. Though they are the same, one can speak of the Dharma of the Teachings, but one cannot speak of the Mind Dharma. Nevertheless, the aim of the Dharma of the Teachings is to realize the Mind Dharma. In other words, we use language and concepts to reach what is ultimately beyond language and concepts.

Here is a question for you. So far have I been talking about the Dharma of the Teachings, or of the Mind Dharma, or both? Well, the answer is that so long as we use language and concepts, we can only talk about the Dharma of the Teachings. The Chan School has a saying, “No reliance on words and scriptures.” In other words, Chan does not recommend relying solely on the Dharma of Teachings. But the curious fact is that the Chan patriarchs and masters left behind more teachings than any other school of Buddhism. For thirty years, I have been all over the world saying that the Mind Dharma cannot be spoken. And yet the purpose of all of this writing and teaching is to teach people not to rely on words.

Realizing No-Form

In Chan, life itself is practice and the early masters did not much encourage practitioners to do seated meditation. Huineng himself did not do sitting meditation, and neither did some of his famous disciples, such as Huairang and Xingyen. There is a story in which Huairang one day observed his disciple Mazu sitting in meditation all day long. Huairang took a brick and sat next to Mazu and started to polish the brick. After some time, Mazu became curious and asked Huairang, “Why are you polishing that brick?”

Huairang said, “I am polishing this brick to make it into a mirror.”

Mazu thought this was absurd and said, “You can’t make a mirror by polishing a brick!”

Huairang replied, “Well, what are you doing when you sit?”

Mazu replied, “I am sitting so I can become a Buddha.”

Huairang replied, “Well, if I can’t make a mirror by polishing a brick, neither can you become a Buddha by sitting.”

Mazu asked, “What should I do then?”

Huairang replied, “When the ox refuses to pull its cart, do you whip the ox or the cart?”

Mazu replied, “Of course, I would whip the ox.”

And Huairang said, “It is the mind that attains buddhahood. If you cannot let go of mind, then you cannot attain buddhahood simply by sitting. One must put down the mind.”

When Mazu heard this and was able to put down his mind, he became enlightened. Until then, he had been working on his body instead of his mind. In other words, he finally learned to whip the ox rather than the cart. Simply by dropping mind, Mazu naturally attained enlightenment. From this story we can infer that in the early Chan School, seated meditation was not emphasized. This is not to say that we do not use our bodies at all. We use the body as a tool for practice, but sitting meditation is not the whole of practice. If sitting meditation simply turns into an exercise in training our legs, then it is useless. But if we use the body as a tool for training the mind it can be very useful.

Those who don’t sit at all and those who are overly attached to sitting are both incorrect. When we have the proper attitude, sitting is a relatively easy way to stabilize our confused minds. Therefore, sitting is still important. If, however, during regular daily life one can maintain a calm and stable mind, then, when sufficient causes and conditions mature, one can attain enlightenment that way. However, a precondition for this path to enlightenment is to have a clear understanding of emptiness, no-self, and no-mind. Without this understanding, even with a calm and stable mind, one cannot become enlightened.

To realize no-mind and no-form, one must have a clear and continual awareness of mind and forms. Before one can do that, one must start with a stable mind. With a busy and confused mind, one does not know what mind itself is, and one does not know what the so-called forms of time and forms of space are. Merely conceptual knowledge of emptiness, no-self, and no-mind is of limited use. It is only knowledge, not real experience.

Daily life is practice. However, because most people’s minds are confused, there is a need for places like Chan halls for meditating. Most people are unable in their daily life to stabilize and calm their minds, or perceive the true emptiness of forms. While there is no doubt that sudden enlightenment is attainable, most people need to use the gradual approach. However, even in gradual practice, there is a precondition to train the mind so that it can be known and be put down.

May 11, Morning Lecture

By now you have learned something about how to relax. By relaxing you will be able to put down your burdens of body and mind. When we find it difficult to relax our bodies, we also find it difficult to relax our minds. If we have expectations, then we’re seeking something. If we have fear, we’re rejecting something or we lack security. This results in nervousness and tension. Being unsatisfied and having cravings means we have a seeking mind, and that will make us nervous. We can see therefore that relaxation is not just concerned with the muscles; it also involves our thoughts, concepts, and emotions. We have to put them all down to fully relax. When you can do that all the time, you will have no more vexations and you will be on the path of liberation.

After learning how to relax, you should apply two rules in your practice. The first is: “Let go of all forms.” “Forms” can be understood generally as phenomena or objects of perception. So letting go of all forms means realizing formlessness. So, please let go of all forms. The second rule is: “Let all affairs come to rest.” This means putting down all mental and bodily concerns.

If you can do this completely you will realize no-mind. At this point, in a way of speaking, you have nothing to do; there is nothing good or bad, important or unimportant, to do for yourself or others. At this time you are truly relaxed and you have been able to put down everything. Please keep reminding yourself to apply these two rules. Now please repeat after me: Let go of all forms; let all affairs come to rest.

[Audience repeats]

If you like, you can use this as a kind of mantra that you can repeat over and over. So, when your mind is vexed, when you feel pain, fear, or any kind of unease, you can repeat these phrases and remind yourself of their meaning. If you do that your attitude and mental situation will change.

In order to realize the Dharma of Mind, the formless Dharma, you have to start with letting go of forms. Not knowing how to let go of forms, you can’t get to the stage of formlessness. We have to let forms go one by one, and the first forms to abandon are wandering thoughts, especially memories of the past and expectations about the future. Put down all thinking relating to past and future, and stay only in the present. This is the first step to letting go of forms.

Yesterday I asked you to please stay in the present. If you are doing sitting meditation, your mind should be only on this activity; you should have no ideas unrelated to meditation. The same applies to working, walking, eating, drinking, exercising, chanting, or doing prostrations. Your mind should simply be with the activity you’re doing. Experience all these activities fully, experience all the sensations related to the activity, and be aware of your mental reactions in the process. If you can let go of the past and the future and put your mind totally in the present, this means you have at least relinquished the forms of time.

After you have relaxed body and mind and your mood becomes stable, you can practice silent illumination. You begin by experiencing your entire body in the posture of meditation. Think of yourself as your whole body just sitting there. As you do this, do not pay any attention to any specific parts of the body. Be aware that you are meditating, but do not verbalize, “I am meditating.” Merely maintain a general awareness of the body, not thinking about it; just being aware of it sitting there. When you can do this, you are already practicing silent illumination.

After some time of practicing this total body awareness, paying no attention to specific parts of the body, eventually you may no longer be aware of the body. The body seems no longer to exist because you’re not focusing on any of its sensations. When the existence of the body seems to drop away, you can still see and hear things, and at this point your mind should take the sights and sounds as objects for your awareness. In other words, take the environment and your surroundings as your self, as the object of meditation. However, do not focus on any particular category of sights or sounds. If you continue practicing in this way, eventually the environment itself, which you have taken as the object of meditation, will also start to disappear. At this stage you have entered samadhi but you should not become attached to this state. Earlier we asked you to “let go of all forms,” and “let all affairs come to rest.” These phrases accurately describe the method I’ve just spoken of.

To summarize how to practice silent illumination, the first stage is to relax the mind and body, and to simply experience the breath. The second stage is to shift the awareness away from the breath to the body as a whole, remembering not to focus on any particular part of the body. The third stage is when the burden of the body disappears and we take the environment, the surroundings, as the object of meditation.

After we contemplate the environment for a time, not placing particular attention on any special sights or sounds, eventually the environment will also disappear. At this point, we reach the fourth stage, in which the environment is gone, and we are just aware that we are meditating.

The fifth stage is when we are able to relinquish even the vague, subtle consciousness that we are meditating. The aim of this fifth stage is to also put down the mind that is in samadhi – letting go of its attachments. You need to relinquish the bliss of samadhi. When you can let go of attachment to samadhi, then it is possible to realize enlightenment.

When practicing silent illumination, one may experience these stages or one may not. Do not focus too much on this process of stages, and do not be too anxious about letting go of samadhi. You may discover yourself stuck in the same place for a long time. Just let go of the thought and move on. The main thing is letting go of all forms and letting all affairs come to rest. You just need to start with the first step. This is the method of silent illumination of the Caodong School of Chan.

Today, let’s all do silent illumination, starting with relaxation. If it goes well, you may use it for the remainder of the retreat. If, however, you have problems with this method, still try it today. Tomorrow I’ll teach another Chan method, that of the huatou. However, do not get into the mind-state where you want both of two good things, diamonds and gold. Just pick one method and stay with it.

While practicing silent illumination you may suddenly become aware that you cannot feel a part of your body, such as your hands. When and if this happens please do not be alarmed. It is because you have not been paying attention to that part of the body and as a result, you are not aware of sensations from it. This is actually a good sign and means you have been able to put down awareness of that part of the body. If you have no awareness of your entire body, again do not worry. Move your body a bit and then return to your awareness of your body just sitting there.

Another way to deal with the loss of feeling in part or all of the body is to just continue experiencing the self in meditation; just realizing you are still sitting there meditating. You can then shift your attention to the environment, taking it and your body as one entity. If you meditate in this way after losing sensations in the body, you will not feel isolated or have any sense of loss. You will still hear sounds in the environment and your state of mind will be expansive and bright.

At this stage in which your body and the environment are unified, do not focus on any one kind of sound to listen to. If you do not hear any sounds, do not search for them. Some sounds will be loud and others soft, some interesting, others boring. Do not select among them; just have a generalized awareness of sounds.

If your eyes are open, you will see there are people around you, that there is a floor in front of you and a ceiling above, but do not look at anything in particular. Just be aware that these phenomena are there. Gradually and naturally, if you continue practicing in this way, the environment will also disappear.

Generally, unless we are ill or have strong sensations in the body such as pain, numbness, itching, or soreness, we are not aware of sensations in our body. Other situations in which we would be more aware of our body include hunger or exhaustion. Otherwise, when everything is going smoothly, we are rarely aware of our bodies; we just use our bodies without feeling burdened by them. Our minds are also like this. If our minds are without wandering thoughts that bother, stimulate, or tempt us, then generally we are not so aware of our minds. This is also the case when we have no reason to fear anything.

Likewise the environment, which in a sense is our big body; it is the place where our body is located and continues to exist. If everything is going smoothly in the environment, we do not think about it much, almost as if it did not exist. On the other hand, if for instance we are in a place that we want to leave and cannot, we are more acutely aware of the environment. This would also be the case if we wanted to sleep and there were noises, if we wanted to do something but were not allowed to, if we felt cold and had no covering. In situations like these where the environment causes us problems, we are more aware of it.

If our surroundings lead us to have temptations or to have fear, we will also be aware of the environment, but if we are in a very peaceful, stable environment we tend to forget it. This is common in daily life, like a fish happily swimming in water, not conscious that it needs the water to survive.

That is why we choose a stable, quiet, and simple environment for holding Chan retreats. Our schedule is fixed, and we have rules so that we do not bother or interfere with other people. It is a comfortable environment in which adverse weather conditions do not influence us, and people from outside will not bother us. This allows us to practice peaceably. Beginners need an environment that is very conducive to meditation, one that does not impinge on our minds too much. This enables us to let our minds become unified with the environment. When there are conflicts between the environment and the mind, we are unable to unify mind and environment.

There is a story about a practitioner living where he thought there were too many people and too much noise, so he ran off to the mountains to find a quiet place to meditate. When he got to the mountains he found that the wind made a lot of noise, the brooks bubbled all the time, and worst of all, great numbers of insects were constantly buzzing and chirping. So he found a cave where he thought he could finally meditate in peace and quiet, but when he started to meditate he became aware of the sounds of his own breathing and the thumping of his heartbeat. He could feel very strongly the sensation of his blood circulating in his veins. He finally concluded that there was no place in the world where it was possible to practice, so he gave up, returned to the city, and told everyone that all this talk about spiritual practice was a deception. Spiritual practice, he said, was not possible in this world. So, what was the problem with this person? Was he right about practice being impossible?

This practitioner let the environment influence him too much. In the term mozhao, which is Chinese for “silent illumination,” the word “silent” means letting go of things that could otherwise influence your mind, and “illumination” means being clearly aware of everything that is happening. One has to learn to let go of things.

Magpies and Ox

Most people’s minds are not steadfast like an ox. Instead, their minds are like a flock of magpies chirping in confusion. Which one out of this flock of magpies is your self? Most people would not know if it were any single one or all collectively. For most, the magpies of the mind are out of control. Instead of a flock of magpies, the mind should be like an ox, well-behaved and disciplined. Then the ox-mind can be trained, and from there it can be dropped. I ask you, is your mind right now like a flock of magpies or like an ox? Probably for most people it is generally a flock of magpies and only occasionally an ox. And some perhaps have never seen their ox-mind.

For example, yesterday everybody was silent but today there is chatting. When someone is chatting, is that person’s mind that of a magpie or an ox? From now on when you see that your mind is scattered, ask yourself whether you really want a magpie-mind or an ox-mind. Remind yourself, “If I’m not like an ox, I am just wasting my time here.” If someone tries to chat with you, tell yourself, “Here come the magpies again. I really want to be an ox, so I won’t flock with magpies.” Today I asked you to let go of all forms, and let all affairs come to rest. So, we’ll have to repeat this again. I go in English, and you repeat it in Russian. [Laughter] Let go of all forms, and let all affairs come to rest.

[Audience repeats.]

So, now that everyone certainly knows these phrases, please don’t chat and don’t listen to people who chat with you.

Let’s return to Master Huineng’s verse. In the line “Mastery of the teachings and mastery of the mind are like the sun in the empty sky,” “mastery of the teachings” refers to the language and concepts of the Dharma, and “mastery of the mind” refers to the Mind Dharma, or enlightenment. Mastery of the teachings and mastery of mind are ultimately one and the same, and for one who has attained this state, the mind is like “the sun in an empty sky.” The sun represents buddha nature or emptiness, and just as nothing can obstruct emptiness, in an empty sky nothing obstructs the brilliance of the sun. There is not actually a thing called buddha nature. However, in realizing emptiness one uses the functions of wisdom and compassion to shine [the light of Dharma] on all the sentient beings. Just as the sun can illuminate everything, the functions of wisdom and compassion can also influence all beings. Huineng’s sun is thus an analogy for the functions of wis- dom and compassion.

Since there is no obstruction to emptiness, we speak of the empty sky whose lack of obstructions can be called silence. The arising of this sun-like wisdom and compassion through realizing emptiness is called illumination. We can say therefore that this line describes [the realization in the practice of] silent illumination. On one hand, the sky is unobstructed – this is silence; on the other hand, the sun is shining on all beings – this is illumination. When illumination is developed to its highest point, silence will necessarily be present. The reverse is also true: when silence is at its deepest level, illumination will also be present.

May 12, Morning Lecture

The Huatou Method

Yesterday, I talked about silent illumination, a method that is rather easy to use, and when you use it, you are fully doing silent illumination. When one practices this method, one is already illuminating, and when one’s mind is not distracted by anything outside or inside, that is silence. Those who are using silent illumination well, please continue to use it. Now I’m going to talk about the method of huatou.

As in any method of meditation that I teach, the first step is to relax. If your mind, your body, and your emotions are very tense, it is difficult to use the huatou method and benefit from it. Before each session of meditation, you need to relax. Although you can also use the huatou method in daily life, you will not be able to use it as intensely or stick to it as closely as when you are sitting in meditation at a retreat.

The huatou method of the Chan School comes from what is called a gongan, or koan in Japanese. The name literally means a “public case,” and in the Chan tradition, it is a story about an enlightenment encounter between a master and a disciple. The huatou is usually a key word or key phrase that is extracted from the gongan. I will give you an example of the difference between a gongan and a huatou.

In the Tang Dynasty around the 8th century C.E., there was a Chan master named Zhaozhou. One of his disciples asked Zhaozhou, “Master, I have heard that all sentient beings have buddha nature. Please tell me, does a dog have buddha nature?” Zhaozhou replied, “Wu,” meaning “not,” or “without.” And so, as this famous “public case” was used to investigate Chan, the word “wu” became a huatou. The entire story is the gongan, and this one word, “wu,” taken from the gongan, is the huatou.

This gongan about Master Zhaozhou is very strange. Since Buddhists believe that all sentient beings have buddha nature, why did Zhoazhou reply that a dog does not have buddha nature? It’s like a mystery story, and it seems illogical. To resolve this mystery is the reason we need to investigate the gongan about Zhaozhou. If, instead of investigating the whole story, we try to resolve the mystery by asking the simple question, “What is wu?” or just “Wu?” the question becomes a huatou.

Here is a famous gongan about another great Chan master named Xiangyan. One day, Xiangyan addressed the assembly of monks saying, “It is like a person hanging by his teeth from a high branch of a tree. He cannot reach out to grasp a bough, and his feet rest on nothing but air. Below him someone asks, “What is the meaning of Bodhidharma’s coming from the West?” Out of respect, he must answer the question, but if he does, he will fall to his death. What should he do?”

If you were this person hanging from a branch by your teeth, with nothing to support you, and someone asked you that question, you would know that whatever you said would probably be wrong. If you kept your mouth shut that would also be disrespectful. What would you do?

When a disciple asked for the answer, Xiangyan said, “Get up the tree now!”

The disciple replied, “I’m already up there.”

Xiangyan said, “Then say something.”

The disciple said, “If I say something I’ll fall down.”

Xiangyan said, “You’ve already fallen.”

From this incident, we can investigate either the whole gongan or we can investigate a huatou. In the gongan method we would investigate the meaning of the whole story; in the huatou method we would investigate one word or phrase from the story. The huatou in this case would be, “What is the meaning of Xiangyan’s telling his disciple to climb a tree?”

As Buddhists we believe we have an uncountable number of past lives. Therefore, we can ask a question based on what happened even before this process of birth and death began: “What was my original face before birth-and-death began?” This original face is called buddha nature, which never changes. So, we have this original buddha nature, but once we enter the birth-and-death cycle of samsara, we are no longer aware of our buddha nature. Based on this theory of countless prior lives and yet having a buddha nature existing somehow prior to this, we ask ourselves, “What was my original face before I was born?” This question is another huatou that one can investigate.

So, generally the practice is that we just investigate a huatou, not the entire story of the gongan, which can be very complicated. A gongan can be a story, or it could also be based on a theory, as in the case of the question of the original face. In other words, we use the huatou method, as opposed to the gongan method, because it is more simple.

Another example of a huatou based on a theory is as follows. As Buddhists, we do not believe in the existence of a soul. We believe that after death the body is just a corpse. There is no soul attached to it. Why is it not a corpse when we are alive? Because there is an “I,” or a self that is using the body. Therefore, based on this theory we ask ourselves, “Who is dragging this corpse around?” In other words, what is this “I”? This is also a huatou.

Practicing Huatou

I have introduced four huatous that you may use. The first one was “Wu.” The second one was Xiangyan Xiangshu’s “What is the meaning of Xiangyan’s telling his disciple to climb a tree?” The third is “What is my original face before I was born?” And the fourth is “Who is dragging this corpse around?” If you want to practice a huatou, just choose whichever you might find useful. If you want something very simple, then I suggest asking “Wu?” The huatou, “The myriad things return to one; where does the one return to?” also implies a returning to wu. So that is a fifth choice.

While you are asking the huatou, disregard any answers that come up because they will be based on conceptual thinking and will be incorrect. If you try to analyze it instead of just asking, you will just get a big headache. Your responsibility is not to think about the answer to the question, but just to continue asking, and allowing the huatou to answer itself. While asking the huatou, you will have wandering thoughts and “answers” will arise in your mind. When you become aware of that, remember the two admonitions: “Let go of all forms” and “Let all affairs come to rest.” Return to the huatou and focus all your attention on just asking the huatou. After asking just two or three times something may pop into your mind and you may think you have a great discovery: “Wow! Great! I’ve solved this huatou!” That would just be an incorrect thought.

Right now please choose between practicing silent illumination and the huatou method. Those who wish to practice huatou, please relax your body and mind and then begin asking the huatou that you have chosen. I will continue speaking about huatou later. If you want to use huatou but are still not sure how, for now just practice relaxing and contemplating breath.

Eventually [if we practice huatou the way it should be practiced], we will be doing it 24 hours a day without break. At a later stage we no longer have the huatou as a question in our mind; we just have a state of mind that really wants to know the answer. We just have this basic mind-state which is no longer a question. But to progress to this level our practice must be like a waterfall, cascading continuously without a gap. While it is our hope to practice in this manner, at the beginning it is impossible to succeed. Especially when we are eating or sleeping, in the beginning it is quite difficult to maintain the huatou continuously. Also, it is inevitable in the early stages to have many wandering thoughts.

There are three essential points to bear in mind in investigating huatou. First, you should not combine this method with any form of breath observation. Second, your mind should be relaxed. Third, your body must not be tense in any part, because we are not using our brain, or our body, to investigate the huatou, and we are not using the breath to investigate huatou. Rather, we are using our mind and mental energy, and if you mix up a breath contemplation technique with huatou practice, you’re liable to get sick.

Those who are using silent illumination, please continue. Those who are using huatou, please remember these three essential points that I just described.

Evening Lecture

Prajna and Emptiness

The intention in realizing no-form is not to deny the existence of forms, but to remind oneself not to cling to them, whether they are spiritual, material, mental, or environmental forms. Samadhi and enlightenment are also forms we should not cling to. Anything that is a concept, that has shape, structure, and is expressible in language, anything that can be thought of and experienced – all of these are objects of perception and can be called “forms.” These forms have existence and we are not denying that. It is a matter of not seeking and grasping after them because they are ultimately impermanent, unstable, and unreliable.

Only if we can attain no-mind, or formlessness, can we become enlightened and thereby generate wisdom. The Sanskrit word “prajna” that we translate as “wisdom” in English is a technical word in Buddhist philosophy. For lack of a better word in English, we conventionally translate it as wisdom. However, the English wisdom does not have the same meaning as the Sanskrit prajna. Prajna is the wisdom of knowing formlessness, or the wisdom of “seeing one’s self-nature,” in other words, the Dharma of the Mind. Prajna in Buddhism is the experience of emptiness, or realizing no-form. People who are conventionally called “wise” may not necessarily have this same wisdom in the Buddhist sense.

We can explain the generation of prajna by the phrase, “Abiding nowhere, give rise to mind.” To “abide nowhere,” means not clinging to, not relying on, not seeking, and not rejecting forms. Still, as long as we live we must deal with phenomena. When we are hungry we need to eat; when we are cold we need covering; when we are sick we need healing; when there’s a fire we need to put it out. We still do whatever is needed according to the situation. “Give rise to mind,” refers to wisdom that responds according to the needs of phenomena, not self-interest. This wisdom functions consciously without clinging to phenomena, as in ordinary consciousness.

The wisdom of such a mind is what we call, in Buddhism, prajna. What really is this wisdom, or prajna? I have a definition for wisdom that says three things that it is not. Wisdom is not knowledge or scholarly attainment, it is not logical thinking, and it is not life experience. Wisdom is a state of mind devoid of selfishness and of all volition to cause harm to self or others. It is an attitude that does not take the self as the center of all perceptions.

Only if we have this prajna can we see emptiness and remove vexations and realize formlessness. If we have an incorrect understanding of formlessness, emptiness, or wisdom, then it is likely that one of two situations may arise: one is thinking we are enlightened when we are not, and the other is the fear of becoming enlightened.

I’m going to tell two stories that will illustrate what I mean. The first is about a graduate student who attended one of my Chan retreats in Taiwan. When he returned home he gave away all of his belongings. Those things that nobody wanted, he just threw away. He stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped reading, and everyone around him thought that this was very strange. When they asked him what was going on, he said, “I have seen emptiness. Since everything is empty, everything is impermanent. Since everything is empty, why would I want anything? Since everything is impermanent, my life is impermanent. My present life and my next life are all the same, so it really doesn’t matter if I live a few days longer or not. It’s all the same.”

When his family heard of his situation, first, they sent him to a mental clinic and second, they came to me: “What have you done to our son? What happened during your retreat? You must have some problems, perhaps you are a demon!”

Here’s what happened. This young man had only listened to my talks about impermanence and emptiness. He started contemplating emptiness immediately. When I gave other discourses, he viewed everything I said as likewise empty and impermanent, and did not hear anything else I said, much less understand. This resulted in his bringing upon himself various illusions and delusions and he even thought he was enlightened. But he didn’t tell me that he thought he was enlightened, so when he went home he had all these problems.

It is the same right here. If you just hear me talk about emptiness and impermanence and you do not hear anything else, when you go home you might have some problems. Although I say that we should observe the emptiness and impermanence of things, I use this as a method whereby we can release attachment and let go of clinging. Myself, I still eat, I drink, and I work.

The second story also occurred on retreat, this time in America. A student listened to my lectures on no-form, emptiness, and non-attachment. After hearing these teachings, including teachings on dropping one’s self-centered mind, he continued practicing. On the third day he had a long meditation session, not moving for more than two hours. When he came to an interview I asked him, “How is your meditation going, what have you seen?”

He said, “I really want to go home now.”

I asked him why. He said, “I’m afraid that when I go home, I will no longer recognize my parents. In addition, I am especially concerned that I will not even recognize my girlfriend. We are waiting to get married. Even if I could accept this condition, it would be far too cruel to my girlfriend. Therefore, I want to stop meditating now.”

I asked him, “What really happened during that session?”

He said, “I had such a great session, it was such a fantastic session, I almost got enlightened. And I got afraid that if I got enlightened, if I had a real understanding of noform I would no longer recognize my parents and I would no longer want my girlfriend. So I want to go home.”

I asked him, “Well, look at me. Is it the case that I don’t recognize anyone? Actually I have quite a good memory, and I recognize all of my students.”

He replied, “Well that’s because you are a monk. I have no intention of becoming a monk.”

What really happened with this young person? It seems that he had been using his method really well, that his body was no longer a burden for him. And also, the environment around him temporarily seemed to disappear.

He was so immersed in the method that he temporarily forgot who he was. We can be like this if, for example, we continuously use a huatou without any break. We can be so immersed in the method that nothing else seems to remain. When his mind slipped from the method, he thought, “Who am I? And what are these things around me?” He temporarily forgot who he was, and he forgot the names of the things. This caused him great fear. Other than this falling off the method and giving rise to fear, he was practicing very well. His mind had become unified with the method. He practiced like water running down a waterfall, continuously and without interval. Temporarily forgetting himself and the things around him, he became afraid that if he became enlightened, it would get even worse.

After I explained to this young person his situation, I told him to not be afraid of enlightenment, formlessness, or emptiness. I told him that actually he was quite far from realizing emptiness. It’s just that he had been using the method very well, continuously, sticking close to the method. He was using it so that each moment was connected to the next like the links in a chain. However, he was still very far from enlightenment. With such close and continuous practice, he could enter samadhi, but he was not even close to becoming enlightened.

I told him not to go home. I said, “If you really became enlightened, not only will you not forget your parents, you will be even nicer to them. You will also be nicer to your girlfriend because you will have more compassion for her; you won’t behave selfishly. You’ll be acting for the sake of other people, not to possess or extract things from them. This kind of love is called compassion and the people you interact with will feel even safer. You will have fewer vexations and troubles and so will the people around you.” So I told him, “Wouldn’t this be even better?” and convinced him not to go home.

These stories illustrate two situations: one is the delusion that one is already enlightened, and the other is the fear of becoming enlightened. I hope none of you here have these confusions and problems.

This relates to the next line in the verse on formlessness by Huineng that goes:

Only by transmitting the Dharma of seeing the nature,

Can one emerge into the world and shatter erroneous doctrines.

What we call the “Dharma of seeing the nature” is actually realizing buddha nature, or emptiness. Only through this Dharma can one fully deal with vexations and become free from deluded views, free from wrong views, free from clinging and a self-centered mind. Through this realization, which is the same as formlessness, one can shatter these “erroneous doctrines.” In this verse, “erroneous doctrines” means clinging to wrong and distorted views and understandings. All the delusions we cling to can be called “erroneous doctrines,” and in these two stories I have just told, the protagonists could be said to hold erroneous doctrines.

How many of you used silent illumination yesterday and are still using it today? I see there are many. Did anyone use the huatou method? It seems there are at least ten people using huatou. I have already spoken about the methods you may practice on this retreat.

For the remaining three days please do not switch your method. Although there are different methods of practicing Chan, the principles behind all these methods are identical. Therefore, whether you practice silent illumination or huatou, it can still be useful to you. I am also aware that there are people who are not using either silent illumination or huatou. If you are one of these, it is all right to continue if you can at least stabilize your mind. Of course, it is also very good if you can be guided by my discourses and practice what I have been teaching.

I have said that we don’t want our mind to become like a flock of magpies, but more like an ox. How many magpies have you seen today, that is to say, has your mind been full of wandering thoughts that pull you away continuously? Even if you do not chat, if you cling to wandering thoughts, you are still like a magpie. I don’t believe that anyone has not seen at least a single magpie. There have probably been many magpies flying around in your minds.

If you are continuously on the method, then you should have seen the ox [meaning your mind has been calm and stable]. However, if you rejoice too much the ox will instantly transform into a magpie. Has anyone not seen at least a single ox today? You are raising your hands. Does this really mean that the entire day, you have not seen the ox? If you are using the method [and still haven’t seen the ox], you must be simultaneously indulging in wandering thoughts.

Russian translator: He [referring to a student] said, “I saw an ox when he walked past me.”

Master Sheng Yen: Of course it should be walking, if it wasn’t walking it would be a dead ox. [Laughter] Please keep looking for your ox.

May 13

For those practicing huatou, should one ask the huatou or should one recite it? To clarify this, let me describe the four stages of huatou.

The first stage is “reciting the huatou” or “repeating the huatou.” Initially, our minds are confused and full of wandering thoughts. At this stage, we just recite the huatou over and over to ourselves. We don’t really have much feeling for the huatou, we just tell ourselves we have this job to do, so we just keep repeating the huatou.

The second stage is “questioning the huatou.” At this stage, we have truly developed interest in the huatou, and we want to know the answer to it, so we keep asking the huatou over and over. At this second stage of questioning the huatou, we still repeat it, but we have truly developed interest in knowing the answer. But we still have to repeat the phrase.

The third stage is “investigating the huatou.” This stage occurs after the doubt mass arises. (This is not ordinary doubt, but an overwhelming desire to find the answer to the huatou.) We no longer have scattered thoughts and are fully absorbed in investigating the huatou, over and over. In this state, we are not aware of the flavor of the food; we hear talking, but are not really listening. We are completely absorbed and surrounded by the huatou. It is our whole life. In other words, we have entered into the huatou, and become the huatou. Whether eating, sleeping, walking, or doing any other activity, we are fully into the huatou. It is our own little universe that we’ve entered into.

The fourth stage is called “watching the huatou.” Although one has attained enlightenment, one still has vexations. Enlightenment does not necessarily mean one has severed all vexations, it simply means that one has seen one’s buddha nature. But some time after the experience, vexations usually return. Therefore, after enlightenment one must continue to practice, or “watch the huatou.” Until one realizes full enlightenment, vexations will not be completely severed. Therefore, one needs to keep watching the huatou and never leave it.

Afternoon

Samadhi

Samadhi is not just a mental phenomenon – it is linked to both body and mind. Especially at the beginning, the body element in samadhi is strong. We previously talked about how consistent use of a meditation method can change the scattered mind to a concentrated one. As wandering thoughts decrease, the mental energy needed to focus will also decrease. Then from a concentrated mind one can reach unified mind. This is possible even without using a method like silent illumination or huatou.

When we speak of unified mind, that means both body and mind have unified. This is the result of using the method quite well. Whether this leads to samadhi can depend on whether one is tense or relaxed. Perhaps one has been anxious, even mixing breathing with other methods, and using the body to unify in a tense way. In such a case one’s body will feel smaller and smaller because one is tense and the body feels like it is collapsing. Eventually one feels cool, then cold, and then extremely uncomfortable. In this situation the scattered mind will rise again. This kind of unification of body and mind is unhealthy and will not lead to samadhi. Regardless of which method one uses, one’s mind should not be nervous.

If however, one can unify body and mind in a relaxed way, and one is very proficient in the method, the burden of the body drops away. One will then experience happiness. One is said to feel “lightness and ease” – lightness as a sensation of the body, and ease as a feeling in the mind. Some people mistake this feeling of lightness and ease for enlightenment, but they have merely unified their body and mind in a proper way. In our ox metaphor, at this stage one not only has seen the ox, but one has begun to train it.

When body and mind are thus correctly unified, we can then enter samadhi. Initially, we can enter the sequential samadhi as taught in the Hinayana schools, or we can unify with the environment, in accordance with the Chan Mahayana methods. Since we are practicing sudden enlightenment, at this point we do not cultivate sequential samadhi. Instead, we observe the environment as the body. As we do this, the environment may also disappear. So as both body and the environment disappear, all that remains is the mind fixed on the method.

At this point the method becomes effortless. Like a jockey who does not think of himself as riding the horse, or a horse who does not think someone is riding him, the two are unified. We want to be like this jockey and enter the Mahayana samadhi in which we forget the environment, while still using the method. This unification of body, mind, and environment is a samadhi that can be reached through silent illumination.

If we are using the huatou method, after giving rise to a sense of doubt we may then develop a “great ball of doubt.” At that point our whole life is absorbed by the huatou. We may no longer be asking the huatou with the words in our minds, but we are seeking the answer to it; we have this strong aspiration to find the answer. At this point our practice is powerful and continuous, without break. At such a point, a practitioner walks, eats, and sleeps, but is completely absorbed by the huatou, is inside the huatou. This is also a form of samadhi. The Hinayana samadhi is more like a concentration that is limited to one’s own body. The samadhi achieved through silent illumination and huatou is one in which body, mind, and environment are all unified.

The basic Hinayana methods of attaining samadhi are the Four Foundations of Mindfulness and the Five Methods for Stilling the Mind. The Four Foundations consist of mindfulness of body, mindfulness of sensations, mindfulness of mind, and mindfulness of dharmas (mental phenomena). After one is successful in such contemplations, one will enter samadhi states. In Chan, one does not cultivate sequential samadhi. The enlightenment that is sought is sudden enlightenment. In the Mahayana samadhi, after one’s body and mind are unified, one also unifies with the environment. One also relinquishes samadhi, as in the saying, “Let go of all forms.” Samadhi is also a form, so it should be let go of. One continues to do this throughout one’s life, in all activities, dropping or letting go of all forms, including the forms of samadhi.

Now I’d like to share with you stories about two Chan masters from modern China. This first is about the great Master Xuyun, or Empty Cloud, the teacher of my teacher. As was the custom in China, he traveled to different monasteries to practice. On one of his travels, he was investigating a huatou, and developed the great doubt. Walking along the banks of the Yangzi River, he was so deeply absorbed in his huatou that he fell in. Three days later, a fisherman pulled Empty Cloud out of the river with a large net. Seeing that he was a monk, some fishermen carried him off to the monastery. The monks rang a hand chime in his ears, and he finally woke up and said, “What are you all doing here?”

Anyway, Empty Cloud was like a fish in the river for three days. Because he was unified with the environment, he did not know that he was in the water. He was not afraid nor did he drown. This was not an enlightenment experience for Empty Cloud, but a deep samadhi state. Even today in India, there are yogis who can be buried under the ground for dozens of hours, and they can be exhumed and still be okay. However, when this happened to Empty Cloud, it was an accident. He was not performing some kind of stunt.

The next story is of the Chan Master Laiguo, who was practicing huatou in a monastery. Eventually, he decided that life in the monastery was not for him, so he took his meditation cushion and his alms bowl and started wandering. When he was hungry he would beg for food. He did not always know where he was, but just kept wandering. At night he would sleep wherever he could find a place. As he walked, ate, and slept, he continued to investigate his huatou. Occasionally, when he got tired he would do sitting meditation and continue his huatou. His entire life was engulfed by it. Because he was so deep inside the huatou, he was unaware of whom he had met, where he had been, and how many days he had been wandering.

Both Laiguo and Xuyun later achieved great enlightenment because they cultivated and held the great doubt mass for a long time. As the saying goes, “Great doubt, great enlightenment.” These are both examples of practitioners using the huatou method to achieve samadhi. In one case, Xuyun fell in the river and floated around in samadhi; in the other case, Laiguo walked around living a normal life in a state of samadhi.

I will tell you a third story, this one about entering samadhi while practicing silent illumination. Master Hanshan (not to be confused with the Tang dynasty poet of the same name) lived in the sixteenth century, during the Ming dynasty. In front of his monastery was a small stream over which there was a bridge. One day he sat on the bridge to rest. He looked at the water and listened to the sound of it as it flowed under the bridge. Sitting on the bridge, he forgot himself. One full day and night passed. The next day someone saw him sitting there and spoke to him. At this point, Hanshan became aware of his surroundings again, and said, “I just sat down a moment ago!” He had forgotten his body and was fully absorbed in observing the sights and sounds of the stream. He had unified with his environment and had entered samadhi, not realizing a full day had passed.

Direct Contemplation

We will now practice direct contemplation. Direct contemplation is not intuition. With intuition, we come to a conclusion, or we have an idea about something. However, intuition is subjective – our minds are confused and we put our subjective ideas into the situation. In contrast, direct contemplation is completely objective – you do not contemplate based on past experience or ideas, you just observe. Whatever you see, you see; whatever you hear, you hear. That’s all. There are two ways to use direct contemplation: you either select an object for observation, or you can be unselective. You can look at something and confine your observation to that one thing and nothing else. Or you can select a field of vision and visually contemplate everything in that field of vision, without selecting any special object. The entire field of vision becomes your object of contemplation. Or, you can select a certain sound to listen to and confine your observation to that one sound. Or you can contemplate all the sounds that you hear without focusing on any specific sound.

Whether your method is selective or not, whether contemplating visual objects or sounds, there are three things you should not do in direct contemplation. First, do not name the object that you contemplate; second, do not describe it; and third, do not compare it with anything, either in the present or the past. Once again, this is not intuition because unlike intuition, you do not put any subjective ideas into your observation. I repeat, do not name the object, do not describe it, and do not compare it. The object you observe is just what it is, just the object-in-and-of-itself. The reason for the three rules is that naming, describing, and comparing arise from our knowledge and past experience and are hence subjective. What you are observing then is not the thing-in-itself, but something coming out of your cognitive associations.

One more note: if you choose to observe by looking, do not mix this in with observing sounds, unless the thing that you’re looking at and listening to is the same. For instance, if you’re looking at water, then you can also listen to the water. But if you are listening to an airplane flying by, then you should not also simultaneously visually contemplate water.

Find a comfortable spot, wherever you like, within this area. Once you select a spot, do not move. You can assume any posture you like, standing, sitting, or lying down. Then select some sound or object to observe. You can start now, but remember: no naming, no describing, and no comparing. For now, everyone should just do direct contemplation.

If you are practicing huatou, do not use it for this exercise. For now, I suggest you limit yourself to one object because it is relatively difficult to observe everything in one’s field of vision. If you do that you are more likely to have wandering thoughts. Let’s just try it that way, and not ask more questions for now. Just practice.

[They practice direct contemplation outdoors.]

For most people, it is difficult to continually observe one object for fifteen minutes without naming, describing, or comparing. It is easier to do this just for a few seconds or for a few minutes, but it is possible to do it for fifteen minutes or more. How many of you were able to maintain focus on a visual or sound object for at least one minute without naming, describing, or comparing?

[Raising of hands.]

That is very good. Normally when we observe things, we do so subjectively. We are not acting like mirrors that just reflect. Regardless of which meditation method we use, huatou or silent illumination, we want to put down our subjective ideas. For instance, when using huatou, we don’t analyze it with subjective thinking. Direct contemplation still involves forms, but it is a preliminary step to entering the formless.

Some may think that even an infant can do direct contemplation, but this would be incorrect. An infant’s faculties for observation are undeveloped. It is simply ignorant, it is not doing direct contemplation.

If you can practice this method very well, you can apply it in daily life. When you are doing something, do just that and not anything else. This will reduce the amount of mental fluctuation you experience in daily life.

Now it’s time to eat. Eating is just eating, so we will just eat.

Sudden or Gradual Enlightenment

Let’s continue with Huineng’s verse on formlessness:

Although in the Dharma itself there is no sudden or gradual,

in confusion and enlightenment there is slowness and speed.

The Mind Dharma is not connected with sudden or gradual enlightenment, because it is not in any way linked to practice. But as the verse says, “…in confusion and enlightenment, there is slowness and speed.” A confused person will not see the formless mind at all, but an enlightened person will experience no-form right away.

The Dharma of Teachings can be followed by practice, its purpose being for us to attain the Dharma of Mind. We should perhaps say “discover” instead of “attain,” because the Dharma of Mind is pre-existent in us; it cannot be explained, nor can it really be “attained” by practice. This Dharma is always there, fully present. It is just that we don’t know that we have this “no-mind,” this mind of wisdom. The Dharma of Mind is unconnected to ideas of sudden and gradual, but the Dharma of the Teachings can be connected to sudden and gradual. That is to say, some teachings can be for sudden enlightenment and others are directed towards gradual enlightenment.

In the Platform Sutra “formlessness” refers to the Dharma of Mind, but the verse doesnt actually teach us concrete methods for achieving it. Rather, it describes the Dharma of Mind and indicates that we need to drop attachment in order to see this Dharma. How do we drop these attachments? All of these methods for dropping attachments are the Dharma of Teachings, which allows us to move away from a mind of confusion and then to drop this confused mind. We do this through understanding the causes of confused mind and also through continuously practicing a method. Through the Dharma of the Teachings, first we see that we do have a confused mind, that our self-centeredness is very strongly rooted, and we learn how to put this mind down. If we succeed in doing so we will be able to see the Dharma of Mind. From there we become enlightened and we will be able to realize no-form. Everything I have been describing thus far has been the Dharma of the Teachings. Without it, we wouldn’t know that we have a confused mind, we wouldn’t know how to drop it, and we wouldn’t have the means to perceive formlessness.

Am I teaching the Dharma of Mind or the Dharma of Teachings? Is there a lack of the Dharma of the Teachings in Russia or is there a lack of Dharma of Mind? Or both? How many think Russia lacks Dharma of Mind, and you are here to learn it? Please raise your hands. Those who think that Russia already has Dharma of Mind, please raise your hands. Maybe some people are so involved in their huatou they are not raising their hands. [Laughter] It can be confusing because these are similar-sounding words. Some people are very sneaky and they don’t want to raise their hands at all. [Laughter] I’m sure many are still not clear about the difference.

If the Mind Dharma is inexpressible, how can I teach it? I can only talk of the Dharma of Teachings. Those who raised their hands in hopes of studying Dharma of Mind as well as Dharma of Teachings were clearly wrong. It is impossible to study the Dharma of Mind. The Dharma of formlessness is the Dharma of Mind, and cannot be spoken.

A disciple asked his master, “When Bodhidharma came to China, what did he bring?” The teacher replied, “Bodhidharma didn’t bring anything.” The disciple was rather confused: “Well, if he didn”t bring anything, why did he bother coming?”

What was it that Bodhidharma went to China to tell people they already had? I tell people that they already have this Mind Dharma, that everyone has this mind of wisdom, formlessness, and no-self. Do I teach methods for discovering the Dharma of Mind? No, I teach how to practice putting down vexations, letting go of clinging. If you do that, the Dharma of Mind will naturally arise. Perhaps it is better to say wisdom “appears.” “Arises” may sound like we originally don’t have it. So, when we drop the vexations, wisdom appears. What I said tonight is very important because you all have this Dharma of Mind, and some of you were not sure you did. I hope this matter is clarified.

May 14: No Gateway to Mind Dharma

Emptiness

We can speak of two kinds of emptiness: the emptiness of the Dharma of Teachings and the emptiness of the Dharma of Mind. The emptiness of the Dharma of Teachings can be understood through analysis and logic. The Emptiness of the Dharma of Mind, however, can only be realized through actual experience. There is a real experience of this second kind, but not all so-called experiences of emptiness are genuine.

Many students of Indian or Buddhist philosophy think they fully understand emptiness. Actually, what they understand is merely a part of the emptiness of the Dharma of Teachings. One can arrive at a shallow understanding of emptiness of the Dharma of Teachings by analyzing the components of the body and mind, which in Buddhism are called the five skandhas. In Sanskrit, skandha means “aggregate” or “heap.” These five skandhas include the material and the mental aggregates; they constitute our life, our being, and what we think of as our “self.” They are phenomenal components organized in time and space through causes and conditions.

In arriving at emptiness through analysis, we look at each skandha and see that none contains an inherent “self.” We see that what we call our “self” is a composite of these five factors, none of which is a self-entity. Also, we find no self outside of the skandhas.

The skandhas fall into three groups. First is the material skandha of form, then there are three mental skandhas: sensation, perception, and volition. The fifth skandha is a spiritual component, consciousness. When we are born, we have a complete existence consisting of physical, mental, and spiritual components, but after we die only consciousness remains. To repeat, as we analyze the five skandhas, we conclude that what we call the “self” is composed of these skandhas, none of which has self-nature. Since all material and mental components are inherently changing, each skandha itself is empty of inherent nature. We conclude that that the “self,” being made up of the five aggregates, is also impermanent and empty.

Can we say that the “self” that is comprised of the five skandhas actually exists? Yes, in a sense we can, but this is not what Buddhism calls “real existence.” This “self” that we get at birth is comprised of physical, mental, and spiritual components, but when we die only the component of consciousness remains. Consciousness, in and of itself, does not create karma; it does not think, rather it’s just a mental entity. In order to practice, one needs a body. Consciousness alone cannot do spiritual practice, and it cannot attain liberation. Since the self is composed of these five aggregates and is also impermanent, we say that our self is “false,” or we can say it is “provisional.” This is also called “no-self.”

Thus, through analysis, we can view emptiness from two aspects. First, we see that the self is composed of the five aggregates and therefore has no inherent self-nature. The second aspect is seeing the emptiness of inherent nature – that everything is without a nature of its own. The emptiness of inherent nature means that not just the self, but also each of the five skandhas is individually empty. To clarify, if something had “inherent nature,” then it would never change, being an ultimate reality. Therefore, anything that changes is empty of an inherent nature.

One time a Westerner, seeing that I was a monk, came up to me and asked “Master, what is reality?” My response was, “I don’t know.” He looked extremely disappointed and forlorn: “Why don’t you know this?” “Because there is no thing called reality, so how could I know it?”

The emptiness that is arrived at through logic is a kind of dialectic, but different from Western ideas of dialectic. It is the dialectic of the Madhyamaka philosophy of Buddhism. When we apply this special dialectic we find that there is no left, no right, no middle, no front, no back, no past, no future, no present, neither good nor evil. However, this dialectic does not give rise to a passive or negative view of the world; it affirms the existence of causes and conditions, but denies the existence of inherent nature. Things are said to lack inherent nature because logical analysis shows they do not. Therefore, the conclusion is that things are inherently empty.

The viewpoint of the Madhyamaka after such logical analysis is called a position of affirming emptiness. It is not a neutral viewpoint, not a kind of middle between two extremes, because one cannot affirm any place, and one cannot affirm the middle either. Let’s try to make it less abstract. There is a “left” that arises from causes and conditions, there is a “right” also made up of causes and conditions, and there is a “middle” also due to causes and conditions. Everything is just causes and conditions, whether it’s to the left, to the right, or to the center. Why do we not take a stand anywhere, why don’t we affirm any position? We don’t affirm any position because each place is without inherent nature. The goal of such logic is not to explain things, but to remind us not to cling to things because everything is changing. Everything exists because of causes and conditions and lacks inherent nature.

Afternoon

Emptiness of the Dharma of Mind

Now I will talk about the emptiness of the Dharma of Mind. I will begin with a story from the Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch, Huineng. When he was still at Huangmei, the monastery of the Fifth Patriarch Hongren, Huineng worked in the kitchen milling rice. As a method for finding his Dharma heir, Hongren, who was the abbot, asked the monks to write a verse expressing their own understanding of Dharma. None of the monks were willing to do this except the head monk, Shenxiu, who when the other monks were asleep, wrote a verse on the wall in the Chan hall. It went like this:

The body is a bodhi tree,

The mind is a bright mirror.

Always diligently polish the mirror,

And do not let dust collect.

“The body is a bodhi tree,” means that we use the body as the foundation through which we cultivate enlightenment. The second line, “The mind is a bright mirror,” means that the mind is like a mirror that reflects what is in front of it without adding any self-centered view. If you can imagine it, the mind is like a circular mirror that can reflect everything around it, in 360 degrees. The meaning of the third line, “Always diligently polish the mirror,” is that we should be diligent in using Dharma methods to dissipate or eliminate vexations and wandering thoughts. The fourth line, ‘And do not let dust collect,” says that one should work hard to train the mind so that it does not permit vexations to stain our clear, mirror-like mind.

So, please everyone take a guess. Does this poem express a realization of formlessness? Does it demonstrate a true understanding of the Dharma of Mind? Yes or no?

[Voices in audience, “No.”]

But does this poem express something good? Yes, of course it does. Practitioners need to behave like this. In any case, according to the Platform Sutra, at this time, Huineng had already realized the Dharma of Mind when he heard someone quote from the Diamond Sutra. Because he was illiterate, Huineng asked one of the monks to read him Shenxiu’s verse on the wall. That night, after hearing Shenxiu’s verse, Huineng had someone help him to write the following lines on the wall, next to Shenxiu’s verse. Huineng’s poem went like this:

Bodhi is originally without a tree,

The mirror is also without a stand.

Originally there is not a single thing.

Where is there a place for dust to collect?

“Originally there is no thing,” means that there are no real substantial forms, called “bodhi,” “buddha-nature,” or “emptiness.” Huineng is saying that bodhi is not a substantial thing.

People often think that enlightenment is an experience in which we can feel a certain thing, or discover exactly what this “thing,” enlightenment, is. This is an incorrect view because enlightenment, or “seeing the nature,” is an experience of emptiness. It is the experience of phenomena as being empty and insubstantial. Most Eastern and Western philosophies and religions believe in a highest or ultimate reality to which they give names such as oneness or God. Actually, we enter this oneness when we experience unified mind in meditation. In the West it may he called Oneness, but according to the Chan Dharma, we need to put down or let go of this unified mind. We do not want to think of this unified mind as the highest or ultimate truth. But how do we get to what is the highest truth? We have to drop everything, and then we will come to the point of formlessness or non-attachment to all forms. Forms are products of causes and conditions. As such they are changing and non-substantial. They still exist, it is just that the enlightened mind does not abide in them.

This idea of formlessness is different from theories that postulate an original substance or an original cause. In contrast, Buddhadharma advocates the idea that everything arises because of causes and conditions, and is therefore empty, or formless. Now, let’s compare the emptiness of the Dharma of the Teachings with the emptiness that is actualized in the Dharma of Mind. The emptiness of the Dharma of Teachings is arrived at through logical deduction or analysis, and in both cases we are using the mind to reach understanding.

On the other hand, to have an actual realization of emptiness, we use methods such as silent illumination or huatou, and when our mind reaches a unified state, we want to put down this unified mind. However, we cannot just put down the unified mind at will; we need to:repeatedly use our methods, again and again. When conditions in our practice mature and we encounter some kind of acute stimulus – certain sounds, words, or sights – all doubts and questions may suddenly disappear. Or perhaps we are suddenly able to put down our already stabilized mind, and all thoughts instantly disintegrate and shatter. It is as if we have just broken through a silk cocoon in which we have been confined. Not only has the cocoon disappeared, but the silkworm has also disappeared. We are free of all burdens. Everything still exists, but there is no self, that is to say, there is no clinging and vexation associated with our “self.” This emptiness is reached through spiritual practice, and is different from the emptiness reached through analysis or logic.

When seeing the nature, one realizes that all phenomena are insubstantial, and that the self has always been non-existent. At this time one is able to put down all attachments. However, sooner or later, depending on the person and the depth of the experience, one’s self-centeredness and attachments will return. Therefore, it is extremely important for the individual to continue using methods of practice. For example, if one is in the fourth stage of watching the huatou, and if one continues to practice at this level, it is possible to have similar experiences, and one’s realization will become deeper and deeper. Not all people however, are able to repeat the experience like this. Regardless of whether one can repeat it or not, the experience of seeing the nature is extremely valuable. Although one still has self-centeredness, many vexations will have been eliminated. Having experienced putting down one’s mind, one will also develop a high degree of self-confidence and never again lose one’s spiritual practice. This experience is like sudenly seeing light for the first time. Although the light will fade or disappear, the individual will still know what that light is, because he or she has actually seen it. Something like this happens when someone experiences seeing the nature or emptiness. A shallow experience of enlightenment can be called “seeing the nature,” while a deeper experience of enlightenment can be called “liberation.”

There is also the case where someone has some kind of an experience and mistakenly believes they are enlightened. For instance, while using the method they eventually reach a point where they have no wandering thoughts. It may even seem for a time that there is no sense of self, and they also experience a feeling of being in infinite space. In this outer space, there is no sun, no moon, and no earth, just space. They may think that this is an experience of emptiness, but actually this is just samadhi, a relatively shallow samadhi, one in a series of stages of samadhi.

There are also people who, while practicing meditation or engaged in daily life, have very strong concentration, and suddenly time and space as well as the method all drop away. These people are using their brain in a very tense way, and suddenly they enter a vast, empty space that could be filled with light, or even without light. They may think that they have experienced emptiness. But actually, this is just a case where the practitioner’s mind may have become unstable due to too much tenseness in the practice. It is not an experience of emptiness or enlightenment. So, it is essential that we relax our minds and bodies as we use our method.

We have talked about the experience of emptiness via the Dharma of Mind, in which one uses a practice method to realize emptiness, or formlessness. By using the practice method, one learns to let go of the self and realizes this emptiness. Are there people who are able to actualize emptiness without using a method? Yes, but they are extremely rare.

Evening

What Good Is Enlightenment?

Tomorrow is the last full day of retreat, and a few people have already left for their own reasons. Those who are still here, are you engaged in spiritual practice for yourself, or for the sake of others? To be practicing for other people might sound very strange. Yet because we are practicing how to contemplate emptiness, which implies no-self, it would also be strange to be practicing for ourselves. So, are we just wasting time here? It is very strange that you have not all left. [Laughter.] And Sasha even has talked about inviting me here for a third time.

If I come again, would you want to participate? Actually practice is not for the sake of anything. You practice just to practice. These past two days I have talked a lot about emptiness, about enlightenment, seeing the nature, and such things. We have said that after enlightenment, one realizes no-mind, no-self, and no-form. With all these negations, what can we say is the good of enlightenment?

To answer this, we should remember the line from the Diamond Sutra, “Abiding nowhere, give rise to mind.” Abiding nowhere means seeing one’s self-nature. It means not clinging to form, allowing the wisdom of no-self to arise. As this wisdom appears, compassion will also appear along with it. This union of wisdom and compassion is called bodhi mind, or bodhicitta – the wisdom of no-self plus non-discriminating compassion. So, bodhi mind is not limited to just wisdom, as people may think.

Previously, we said that wisdom, or prajna, is not three things: It is not experience, it is not knowledge, and it is not thinking. Rather, wisdom is the attitude of no-self. We can also speak of three things that compassion is not: It is not ordinary sympathy, it is not fixed on any object, and it is not seeking goals. We can say that compassion is not the same as love. Through compassion, one helps all sentient beings without discriminating between one and the other, and one gives benefit impartially to all sentient beings. Again, compassion has no fixed recipient, and because it is formless, it has no goal in mind – one is not compassionate in order to get something. Compassion is helping sentient beings in just the right way for each individual.

I want to give you a kind of formula that describes wisdom and compassion. I will give you the basic structure of this formula, but you must fill in the blanks yourself. It goes like this: Wisdom is not (blank), not (blank), and not (blank). Compassion is not (blank), not (blank), and not (blank). Can you fill in the blanks? This is very important, for if you’ve seen the nature, you should have these qualities. The three “nots” of wisdom and the three “nots” of compassion should arise in your experience of enlightenment. If your experience after seeing the nature is not in accordance with these definitions, your experience has some problems.

Again, please recite: Wisdom is not knowledge, wisdom is not experience, wisdom is not thinking. [Participants recite.]

What wisdom is, is the attitude of no-self. And now for compassion. Please recite: Compassion is not sympathy, compassion has no fixed recipients, and compassion is without a goal. [Participants recite.]

Compassion is impartially benefitting all sentient beings in just the right way.

Many people superstitiously or erroneously believe that after enlightenment, they would have nothing else to do; that practice is all over with. They think that enlightenment is fantastically wonderful, and they also hope that other people can accept or confirm that they have seen the nature. But if, at the time of supposed enlightenment, no wisdom or compassion arises, if these qualities of bodhi mind do not arise, then this is not actual enlightenment. It is a false experience. So, if you have such an experience, you can look into it to see if such qualities have arisen. However, I emphasize that you should still consult a qualified teacher who can recognize an enlightenment experience.

I have said that seeing the nature is not the same as enlightenment. After seeing the nature, for several days one will be full of wisdom and compassion, and vexations will not arise, and one’s self-centeredness will not be so strong. But after some time, vexations will return. However, one’s confidence will be quite strong, and one will develop a strong sense of humility. This humility exists because one realizes that one still has a long distance to liberation, and an even longer journey to buddhahood. So, one will be very humble and will not be arrogant about this achievement. But one has great confidence that one will one day become liberated. Yet, one still has many problems, so one is still for the time being humble and not arrogant.

From what I have seen, the great practitioners in different spiritual systems are all very humble. They all will think that they have insufficient practice and insufficient attainment. Although the Chan masters sometimes used methods such as striking, shouting, and scolding, it is not done out of arrogance. These are just methods which when used in the right way, can give a disciple just the right kind of help. The great Tibetan lamas that I have met, practitioners of high spiritual attainment, are still quite humble. But there are some practitioners who have had a little experience in samadhi, have not really seen the nature, and yet behave arrogantly. This arrogance is a manifestation of their vexations.

Recently I met a great lama, who was the incarnation of Tsongkapa, the great Tibetan teacher. I asked him, “You must be the reincarnation of Tsongkapa, the teacher of the First Dalai Lama. According to belief, this also means you are the avatar of Maitreya Buddha.”

He said, “Well, you know, that is what people believe. I am just a practitioner. It is just that Tibetans believe that I am the emanation body of Maitreya and the teacher of the First Dalai Lama.”

Then I asked him, “Does this mean you are not actually the reincarnation of Tsongkapa?” He replied, “That’s the belief. I can’t deny this belief, either.” I said, “Are you Maitreya?” And he said, “Well, I practice the methods of Maitreya.”

So, he wouldn’t affirm that he actually was Maitreya. He just considered himself a practitioner and one who learned from Maitreya.

It was the same way with the current Dalai Lama. When I asked him, “Everyone believes that you are an emanation body (nirmanakaya) of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Are you Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva?” Then he said, “I am a little bhikshu (monk) who every day makes many prostrations to the Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.”

So, as we look at people with great spiritual achievements, such as the enlightened Chan patriarchs and Chan masters, most of them were very much like ordinary monks, in fact, more humble than the average monk. They would not go around thinking, “I’m enlightened, so I’m different from everyone else.” They saw themselves as the same as other people. The difference is that they saw the world in a different way. They did not impose labels onto the world such as good and evil, having thoughts such as, “I like this, I don’t like that.”

In the world they see, if they see a sick person, they will try to help the person get treatment; if they see the hungry, they try to help out and give food; if there is war, they know that war is a very cruel thing and they hope to avoid war. If a fire breaks out, then, they also will try to find a way to extinguish the fire. However, in the midst of all these activities, their minds do not fluctuate.

So, they would not have extremes of love and hatred, and they won’t have all kinds of fears, anxieties, jealousies, and doubts. They just do whatever is necessary. This is indicative of their wisdom and compassion, of their bodhi mind, their bodhicitta.

Let’s continue with the next line in Huineng’s verse:

Yet this gateway into seeing the nature

Cannot be fully comprehended by the ignorant.

I have talked a lot about emptiness and wisdom and realization, but at the same time we can also say there is no real gateway to such wisdom, to such knowledge of the Dharma, because for the enlightened the Dharma of Mind is already present before them. There’s no gate involved and as for the foolish, they cannot even see the gate. So, for both types of people, it seems there really isn’t any kind of gate; and this gate is something like a doctrine or method. It’s also called a Dharma gateway. That is the meaning of this gateway – an “entranceway into the truth,” perhaps, is a way to translate it.

Some may think that practice is the gateway to seeing one’s nature, but practice is actually a direct way to see the nature. We just practice dropping the self and phenomena and letting go of all forms. In particular, we have to let go of the unified mind. Many people cling to the stage of unified mind. They feel that since they are unified with the universe, they no longer have a self. While they may no longer have the individual self, they have still taken the universe as their self. There is still an existent self that is at one with a limitless universe. At this stage they are not yet enlightened and need to abandon this state of mind.

In huatou practice, this stage of unified mind occurs with the raising of a great doubt mass. In silent illumination, this occurs when one feels one with the environment and also when the environment itself seems to disappear. So, it seems we have two unified minds here, but this is correct. The difference is that in the first instance, one is not yet in samadhi, but both stages are considered unified mind.

So, that’s it for tonight. Please, everyone try to practice diligently because we only have one day left.

May 15

After this lecture we will take group photographs. Taking a photograph is easy; and at least you have a memento. But understanding the Dharma of the Teachings is difficult, and understanding the Dharma of Mind even harder. After giving rise to Dharma of Mind, or bodhi mind, one realizes wisdom and compassion. Wisdom is knowing how to help sentient beings and compassion is intending to deliver them from suffering. To attain bodhi mind, however, we must first renounce our own vexations. Renunciation allows us to let go of forms and let all affairs come to rest. Therefore, bodhi mind and renunciation are inextricably linked. Mahayana liberation is not just departing from one’s own vexations; it is also the hope and intention to help other sentient beings find liberation as well. But first, we need renunciation to help us to depart from vexations.

How do we cultivate bodhi mind and renunciation? One way is to make the Four Great Vows, as we do every morning. The first vow, to save sentient beings, exemplifies bodhi mind. The second vow, to cut off vexations, is renunciation. The third vow, to learn Dharma approaches, is using the Dharma of the Teachings to develop the bodhi mind and renunciation. And if we practice the teachings, we will ultimately realize the fourth vow, to attain buddhahood. To help everyone remember, we should now recite the Four Great Vows.

[Recitation of the Four Great Vows follows.]

I vow to deliver innumerable sentient beings.

I vow to cut off endless vexations.

I vow to pursue limitless approaches to Dharma.

I vow to attain supreme buddhahood.

When we let go of vexations, we create less bad karma for ourselves, and if we create less bad karma, we will have less karmic retribution. How do we create bad karma? We do it by hurting others with our actions and our words. Therefore, to avoid the effects of karma, it is best to renounce actions and speech that harm ourselves as well as others. To help us renounce, we adhere to the precepts and practice samadhi. The precepts restrain our bodily and verbal behavior, and samadhi restrains our mental afflictions. When we practice samadhi, the environment will not tempt us so much and our mind will be more stable. As a result we do not cause as many problems for ourselves and for others. So, precepts and samadhi are precisely the methods for cultivating renunciation.

The five basic precepts regulate our bodily and verbal behavior and following them will prevent us from causing harm to other beings and to society. The first precept is not to kill, and this includes not doing violence to others. The second precept is not to steal other people’s property or possessions. The third precept is not engaging in sexual relations outside of one’s spouse. The fourth precept, no lying, also includes no vulgar speech, no slandering, and no idle gossip. This last category is linked to samadhi, because if you talk about meaningless things, your mind is likely to be scattered. The fifth precept is no taking intoxicants and drugs. In some cultures, it is difficult not to take alcohol at all, but if you’re doing spiritual practice, it’s best if you don’t drink.

There is a story about a layman in Shakyamuni Buddha’s time who had a drinking habit but was otherwise an upright person. One day he was very thirsty and saw a bowl of water on a table. He drank it down before realizing that it was alcohol and became drunk. He then forgot about the precept and drank even more. He next wanted some food, so he captured a chicken wandering on his property, killed it, and ate it. As it turned out it was a neighbor’s chicken. The neighbor’s wife came to this man’s house to ask if he had seen the chicken. He told her he had not and then forced himself sexually on her. The wife ran home and told her husband about what happened, and he went to the authorities. He also went to Shakyamuni Buddha’s and said, “Look at what your disciple has done.”

So this man, starting with one drink, broke the precept against drinking, against stealing, against killing, against lying, and against sexual misconduct. So, we can see that drinking alcohol can have very negative consequences.

So, let’s go take a picture now.

Translator: Shifu is planning on giving this painting of the Buddha behind him to the Wujimen Center. It was a gift to him by a famous Taiwanese artist who is also a disciple. Tomorrow we will have a small ceremony in which Shifu will transfer the painting to Sasha.

Sheng Yen: I would like to ask now, how many people here are affiliated with Wujimen? Thirty-six? There is this Chinese gongfu novel that I have not read, but it has 36 knights who are excellent gongfu fighters. Maybe we can call you the Thirty-six Immortal Knights of Wujimen.

I have introduced the methods of Chan in a very brief but systematic way. I have described the basic practices of Chan, and also the two main methods of the two major schools: the silent illumination of Caodong, and the huatou of Linji. Furthermore, I have talked about seeing one’s self-nature and what that involves. I have outlined this all rather clearly. You are all excellent students with a great ability to understand the Dharma. Although we speak different languages, you have been very good at absorbing the teachings.

During personal interview, someone here asked me about confirmation and Dharma transmission. I would like to explain these two issues. Confirmation of an enlightenment experience involves the Dharma of the Mind, but the master and the disciple should know each other and discuss the experience, and their minds should be in accord or somehow coincide. It is like two hands coming together perfectly. The minds of the two people should somehow match and it is only under these conditions that the master will give this confirmation. I should add that the master might know a little bit more about whether there is a matching of minds than the disciple. This matching or tallying between master and the disciple can be also likened to an imprint of one’s hand. If you make an imprint in plaster of your hand and the other person’s hand fits perfectly into this imprint, this would be a metaphor for a tallying, or matching of minds.

The process by which a master gives confirmation to a disciple is called yinke in Chinese Chan, and inka in Japanese Zen. The ordinary meaning of this word is “confirmation,” in the sense of a seal of approval. You may have seen seal stampings on Chinese paintings. So it’s like you put this seal on, and then say, “Yes, you have been confirmed.” It is also called xinyin, or mind-seal. However, if you have a teacher who is not enlightened – though he or she may believe so – the disciple who receives such a seal may not be genuinely enlightened either, and neither will be the future teachers in the line.

When I was 28, one of my teachers helped me to see self-nature. But it was not until I was about 42 that I received confirmation from my lineage master. Around that time, I returned to Taiwan from America and told my teacher that I was teaching meditation in the United States. He said, “Well, I guess you need my confirmation now.” That was how I got yinke. But I do not really care whether I have this confirmation or not, and I really don’t have a personal need for it. Either way, I know that I am not yet liberated and I have to keep working hard.

As for transmission, what it mainly means is that the disciple has received permission to teach the Dharma from his or her lineage master. It is not necessarily a measure of one’s level of enlightenment. So, transmission is basically permission from one’s teacher to teach the Dharma. Please be clear, only the Dharma of Teachings can be transmitted. Dharma of Mind can never be transmitted. However, even when transmitting the Dharma of the Teachings, it is best if the disciple has at least seen the nature. It is not an essential condition to teach, but it is much preferable if the disciple has seen the nature. A teacher who has not seen self-nature can still teach the methods and principles of Buddhism, but will not be able to confirm a disciple. If a teacher has not seen the nature but one of his or her students has, this is of course a good thing. However, a problem can occur if students try to confirm their own experience. In principle a practitioner can know whether they have seen the nature, but in actual practice they should not confirm themselves. If the disciple has no vexations, has a compassionate vow, and has bodhi mind, then the disciple can know that. But in practice, without an enlightened teacher confirming a disciple, anyone who thinks they are enlightened can go around acting like it and saying so. As a result there would be too many false teachers.

Thus, there is a more advanced transmission in which a disciple is given permission not only to teach the Dharma, but also to confirm others. There should be four criteria for such a transmission. First of all the disciple should have seen their self-nature. Second, the disciple should have a great compassionate vow, in other words, possess bodhi mind. Third, the disciple should have a mind of renunciation, which means being pure in behavior. Fourth, the disciple practices very diligently, especially the three studies of precepts, samadhi, and wisdom. Of course, as a precondition, even necessary to seeing selfnature, the disciple must hold correct views of the Buddhadharma. Without this, one may be able to achieve unified mind, but one cannot experience self-nature.

Maybe all of this isn’t very important, or people are not so interested in this issue.

Or, maybe many are interested, but find it not all that important at this point. I recommend that you not be anxious about getting confirmation. Instead, use your practice, energy, and vows, and channel that into the method. You should also help and encourage others to study the Dharma. What’s most important is to use the Dharma of the Teachings to help yourself in your personal relations and problems. This is what the teachings of the Dharma can be used for, and it should have priority over getting confirmed. If someone receives confirmation but can’t seem to manage their own life and has trouble in their relationships, what is the use of getting confirmed? In fact, other people will look at this person and say, “Is this the way Chan practitioners are?” Such a person will cause damage to Buddhism. This is actually because this person lacks wisdom and compassion.

We have time for one question.

Question: (Inaudible, but having to do with the nature of nirvana.)

Sheng Yen: Nirvana is a state that can be described as perfect quiescence. In this state, there is no arising and no extinguishing, no birth and no death. There is also a distinction between the nirvana of a shravaka, and the nirvana of a Buddha. In the case of the shravaka, one passes into nirvana and does not have another birth. In the nirvana of a Buddha, the Buddha is diffused throughout all worlds and all time. At the same time, we cannot say this occurs within time and space. Otherwise that Buddha would just be an ordinary person. So, a Buddha who enters nirvana is diffused throughout time and space but cannot be said to be in time and space.

Whether one achieves the nirvana of a shravaka (arhat) or a Buddha, both nirvanas have two aspects. The first aspect is, after having achieved nirvana there is a period of time in which this shravaka or Buddha is still in the world, but vexations neither arise nor pass away. There are simply no more vexations for this shravaka or Buddha.

But for both the shravaka and the Buddha, there comes a time when the physical body dies, and after this, the shravaka or Buddha will enter the nirvana in which there is no birth or death, in other words, has left behind samsara. After transcending samsara the shravaka has left time and space never to return, and remains in nirvana. But after nirvana, a Buddha may enter into any time and any space in order to help sentient beings. So, to distinguish these two nirvanas, we can say that the shravaka’s nirvana is simply called “nirvana,” and the Buddha’s nirvana is called “mahanirvana,” in Sanskrit, meaning “great nirvana.”

This concludes my lectures for this retreat. I’ve talked about a very large scope of things, from our existence in the world of birth and death, to a stage when birth and death cease to exist. So it is interesting that we got this question at the very end. It was a good question to have come up at this time.