圓悟佛果禪師語錄 15.8

15.8

For a person who has attained the Way, the place where he stands is already solitary, precarious, and steep, not making an opponent of a single dharma; when he acts, not a speck of dust is stirred—how could it merely be entering a forest without stirring the grass, or entering water without stirring a ripple? This is because internally he is already empty and tranquil, and externally he cuts off illuminating exertion, carefree and self-content, thoroughly realizing no-mind. Though ten thousand machinations arrive at once, how could they disturb his spirit? Though a thousand difficulties uniquely confront him, they do not bother his thoughts. Normally he only maintains a leisurely state, like an idiot or a stump; but when facing matters and acting for beings, he initially makes no craft, yet his handling cuts through like whirling wind and turning lightning, unfailingly meeting the dynamic—how could this not be what he customarily maintains? Therefore an ancient worthy said: 'Like a person learning archery, only after a long time does he hit the mark.' Awakening is an instantaneous practice, yet the effort must rely on the long term; like a newly born turtle dove, bare and featherless, nurtured and fed over days and months, once its feathers are complete, it knows how to fly high and soar far. Therefore, when awakening is clear and penetrates to the bottom, the crucial thing is precisely regulation and taming. Just like the realms of the various dusts, ordinary people are obstructed among them; but for those who have reached the bottom, there is nothing that is not empty and open, completely their own great gate of liberation. Acting all day long without having ever acted, completely free of preference or aversion, and also free of weariness, ferrying everyone across without subject or object—how much less could revulsion or laxity arise? If one's disposition is one-sided and withered, one must all the more increase what one cannot do, letting it become thoroughly unimpeded, gathering and transforming through the power of upāya, opening the provisional, looking up and down to respond and meet, ensuring that high and low, far and near are without the slightest error, practicing the conduct of Never-Disparaging, learning from the ascetic of forbearance, abiding by the precedents and models of past Buddhas, accomplishing the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment, consolidating the four methods of gathering, and reaching the point where great function manifests before one, where noise and quietude are equal—like a boat going downstream requiring no pole or oar, blending and embracing, fully realizing the practices and vows of Samantabhadra: this is a great kalyāṇamitra of the mundane and supramundane worlds. An ancient worthy said: 'In a village of three families, one must have one's own monastic grove.' For where there is no monastic grove, even a person of resolve likes to follow his own convenience. Having reached such a state, one should all the more firmly hold fast, solely persisting with untiring effort, so that in the end it is also like this with noise and quietude: in noisy places, moving about and adapting to changes while remaining empty and tranquil within; in quiet places, able not to be bound by quietude—then wherever one goes, it is all one's own livelihood. Only one who is empty within, yielding without, and possesses a root can do so.