釋門歸敬儀 1.72

1.72

"The answer is: 'Sage wisdom is boundless; it accumulates emptiness to reveal virtue. How could a single statement be called pure ascent? This is merely grasping words; following the words, one still clings. Deeply know that this clinging has been conditioned by habit from beginningless time; only after three asaṃkhyeya kalpas without interruption can it be completely overturned. Milk mixed with blood cannot be spoken of one-sidedly; the aspects of arising and subsiding lie right here. As a sūtra says: "On the first bhūmi one practices giving; the rest are cultivated according to one's measure." High rules establish deportment to cause people to cultivate and learn. Why say that with a single understanding one can abundantly exhaust wisdom? If wisdom could be exhausted, it would not yet be called exalted and superior. People today orally recite its emptiness while in their minds they have not forgotten existence; they cannot ascend into the sky, and entering fire is even harder—all because they are bound and deluded by mental marks. If later they attain penetration and their minds turn and function freely, how could it not be like a bird roaming the sky, and naturally like fire-washed cloth? It is not to be wondered at. Therefore, the upright person who cultivates the Way divides the mind thought by thought, relinquishing the former to examine the latter, each new moment turning more wondrous, in every lowering and raising [of the body] being reverent and respectful, joining the feet and palms, curbing laxity and indolence. Part by part clarity increases, yet past habits still linger; how could one obstinately freeze, resting after a single contemplation? This is merely ordinary sentiment, complying with the inverted self; self following self, how could one attain awareness? Therefore one must deliberate on this; only then will there be a measure of hope for departure. If one turns back to cling to the view of departure, one still carries the seed of craving. Thinking repeatedly and shaving away repeatedly, the flavor becomes mellow and deep; examining this flavor again, it still arises from oneself. Knowing it is only consciousness that exists, on what day will it vanish? In the ordinary practice of the Way, one confines one's mind to this realm. There are further, superior paths that are no longer in words; since words are no longer present, how could brush and ink assist? This is one approach. Reflecting again on brush and ink, they are truly mental marks; like the reproaches opened earlier, none are not conditions for the Way, all entrusted to mounting the machine and deciding the battle face-to-face (as in the treatise: "Desire is the first army, sorrow the second, anger the third," as widely cited in the standard passages). But the transcendent sage path has never been traversed since beginningless time; now, wishing to reform the ordinary, principle must transform constant habits. Examining oneself, one's appearance and robes are not at all those of the worldly flow; how could one's conceptualizations and contemplations entirely contradict the expectations of the Way? Truly it is laughable.'"