宗鏡錄 41.11

41.11

答。是則第二頭。非則第三手。心智路絕。限量情消。所以文殊般若經云。不可解者即般若。般若非可解。非不可解。肇論云。玄道在於絕域。故不得以得之。妙智存乎物外。故不知以知之。大象隱於無形。故不見以見之。大音匿於希聲。故不聞以聞之。唯信入之時。自然洞鑒。若洞徹圓明了達之際。尚不因於心念。何況就他人而求自法。取彼眼而作圓通。數寶終不濟貧。說食焉能得飽。但自親到。頓入絕學之門。唯在發明。方達無為之旨。若能如是如是入理思惟。則能如是如是了然顯現。自然二際冥合。物我無差。契萬境以虛玄。同一心之憺怕。皆依空而立。抱一而生。是以雲融曳而緩清霄。山幽隱而閑綠野。喬松倚巖而自長。脩竹拂徑而長新。內則襟懷憺然。外則道性常爾。故心要牋云。若一念不生。則前後際斷。照體獨立。物我皆如。直造心原。無知無得。不取不捨。無對無修。然迷悟更依。真妄相待。若求真去妄。似棄影勞形。若體妄即真。似處陰滅影。故無心於忘照。則萬累都捐。若任運以寂知。則眾行爰起。放曠任其去住。靜鑒覺其源流。語默不失玄微。動靜未離法界。靈叟吟云。我欲學菩提。輸他釋迦先。我欲學闡提。落他調達後。不涉二家風。未免中途走。設使總不是。憑何而開口。開口不開口。切忌犯靈叟。若會箇中意。望南觀北斗。傅大士頌云。人道行路難。我道行路易。入山數載餘。長伸兩脚睡。行路易。路易莫思量。剎那心不異。何處不天堂。如上雖廣引先達誠言。纔入宗鏡之中。法爾言思道斷。識智齊泯。勝負俱亡。四辯莫窮。群賢罔測。故淨名私記云。淨名默然。從前已來。至此究竟。實智滿足。亦如善財值彌勒入樓觀。方得究竟。今默無言。即樓觀體。大集經云。光明寂靜無諍。三句法竟。釋迦默然而住。與今無異。又如西天韻陀山中。有一羅漢名富樓那。馬鳴往見。端坐林中。志氣眇然。若不可測。神色謙退。似而可屈。遂與言曰。沙門說之。敢有所明。要必屈汝。我若不勝。便刎頸相謝。沙門默然。容無負色。亦無勝顏。扣之數四。曾無應情。馬鳴退自思惟。我負矣。彼勝矣。彼安無言。故無可屈。吾以言之。雖知言者可屈。自吾未免於言。真可愧矣。遂投出家。

Answer: To say 'it is' is already a second head; to say 'it is not' is a third hand. The path of mind and intellect is cut off; the sentiments of delimitation and calculation are extinguished. Therefore, the Mañjuśrīprajñā-sūtra says: 'That which cannot be understood is prajñā. Prajñā is neither understandable nor not understandable.' The Zhao Lun says: 'The mysterious Way lies in a realm cut off from extremes; hence it is attained through non-attainment. Wondrous wisdom abides beyond things; hence it is known through non-knowing. The Great Image hides within the formless; hence it is seen through non-seeing. The Great Sound conceals itself within the soundless; hence it is heard through non-hearing.' Only at the time of faithfully entering it does one naturally possess penetrating discernment. When one penetrates clearly, luminously, and thoroughly, it is not even dependent on mental thoughts, how much less could one seek one's own Dharma from another, or borrow their eyes to achieve complete penetration? Counting another's treasures never relieves poverty; talking of food can never bring fullness. Only by reaching it directly oneself does one頓-enter the gate beyond learning; only through personal discovery does one attain the purport of the unconditioned. If one can reflect upon the principle in such a manner, then it will manifest clearly in such a manner. Naturally the two extremities merge, and object and self are without difference. Tallying with all conditions in emptiness and profundity, one shares the tranquility of the one mind. All stand relying on emptiness and are born embracing oneness. Thus, clouds drift and unfurl, relaxing across the clear sky; mountains remain secluded, at leisure amid green plains. Tall pines lean against crags and naturally grow; slender bamboo brushes the path, ever fresh. Internally, the heart-mind is serene; externally, the nature of the Way is ever so. Therefore, the Xinyao jian says: 'If a single thought does not arise, the boundaries of past and future are severed. The luminous substance stands alone; object and self are both as such. One reaches straight to the source of the mind—without knowing, without attaining, neither grasping nor abandoning, without opposition and without cultivation. Yet delusion and awakening mutually depend; the true and the false face each other. If one seeks the true and discards the false, it is like running to escape one's shadow, wearying the body. If one realizes that the false is identical with the true, it is like staying in the shade so that the shadow disappears. Therefore, when there is no intention regarding forgetting and illuminating, myriad entanglements are completely cast away. If one accords with natural functioning in tranquil knowing, all practices will arise. Wander freely, letting coming and going take their course; in quiet reflection, awaken to the source and stream. Speech and silence do not stray from the mysterious subtlety; motion and stillness never depart from the dharmadhātu.' The Venerable Elder sang: 'I wished to learn bodhi, but lost to Śākya who came before; / I wished to learn the icchantika, but fell behind Devadatta. / Not stepping into the ways of either house, / I could not avoid treading the middle path. / Even if both are entirely wrong, / on what basis could one open one's mouth? / Opening the mouth or not opening the mouth, / be strictly careful not to offend the Venerable Elder! / If you understand the meaning herein, / gaze south to behold the Northern Dipper.' Mahāsattva Fu chanted in praise: 'People say traveling the path is hard; / I say traveling the path is easy. / Living in the mountains for over several years, / I sleep with both legs stretched long. / Traveling the path is easy— / if it is easy, do not deliberate! / In a single kṣaṇa, the mind does not differ; / where is it not a heavenly hall?' Although the sincere words of past masters have been extensively cited above, as soon as one enters into the Mirror of the Source, by natural principle the path of words and thought is cut off; consciousness and wisdom are both extinguished; victory and defeat are alike obliterated. The four unimpeded eloquence cannot exhaust it; the multitude of worthies cannot measure it. Therefore, the Private Record of Vimalakīrti says: 'Vimalakīrti kept silent. From the past up to this point, this was the ultimate; actual wisdom was fulfilled. It is also like Sudhana meeting Maitreya and entering the tiered tower, only then attaining the ultimate. Now remaining silent without words is itself the substance of the tiered tower.' The Mahāsaṃnipātasūtra says: '"Luminosity, stillness, non-contention"—these three lines of Dharma being completed, Śākya remained silently abiding.' This is no different from now. Moreover, in the western land of India, on Mount Vindhya, there was an arhat named Pūrṇa. Aśvaghoṣa went to see him; [Pūrṇa] was sitting upright in the forest, his aspiration vast and subtle, seemingly immeasurable, his demeanor humble and deferent, appearing easy to defeat. [Aśvaghoṣa] then said to him: 'Śramaṇa, speak! If you dare to illuminate anything, I will certainly defeat you. If I do not win, I will slit my throat in apology.' The śramaṇa was silent, his face showing no sign of defeat, nor any countenance of victory. After questioning him three or four times, there was not the slightest response. Aśvaghoṣa withdrew and reflected to himself: 'I have lost; he has won. He abides in wordlessness, so there is nothing to defeat. Because of my speech, although I know speakers can be defeated, I could not avoid speaking myself. Truly, this is shameful!' He thereupon took refuge and went forth into homelessness.