宗鏡錄 20

English (machine translation) 20

Language: English

20.1

Compiled by Yanshou, Chan Master Zhijue, Abbot of Huiri Yongming Monastery.

Now, the Buddha-nature as primary cause is possessed in common by sentient beings. A sūtra says: 'Not revealed by means of contemplative wisdom, the Way is constantly laid bare.' Why are ordinary beings deluded and unawakened?

20.3

Answer: The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa states: "The mind-nature of sentient beings is like a sharp blade. If it is only used to cut mud, nothing is made of the mud, while the blade daily suffers damage. The principle-substance is ever wondrous, yet sentient beings themselves are coarse. If one can employ it skillfully, one immediately accords with the original wonder." Furthermore, it is like water in a single vessel: its bland flavor is constant; if liquorice is added, it becomes sweet, and if coptis is introduced, it becomes bitter. The mind-water of sentient beings is just like this: when false defilements arise, one is an ordinary being; when one coincides with true emptiness, one is a sage. The nature of this mind has never undergone change or alteration. As a verse in the Avataṃsakasūtra says:

“Just like the pure sun and moon,
Shining brightly in empty space,
Their reflections appear in diverse waters,
Yet are not commingled with the water;
The pure Dharma-wheel of the bodhisattva,
One should know, is also like this:
Appearing in the mind-water of the world,
It is not commingled with the world.”

As the Commentary on the Avataṃsakasūtra says: "All phenomena have two aspects. The first is that which is deluded about: namely, conditioned arising is unreal, hence like an illusion; because it is formed through conditions, it is without nature. The second is that which is capable of delusion: the imagined has no entity, hence is like empty space; because it is falsely conceptualized, it is devoid of characteristics." Furthermore, because of non-awakening, they do not know it exists; because of lack of faith, they do not undertake it. They merely give rise to avidyā and vainly form inverted conceptions. It is like an immobile rope in the night suspected of being a snake, or a dark room, originally empty, feared to contain a ghost. Therefore, know that originally there is neither delusion nor awakening; vainly do rising and sinking occur. Formerly one was deluded about awakening, so it resembled delusion; now one awakens to delusion, yet it is not awakening. It is merely that internal views separate oneself, and adventitious defilements obscure [one], dividing sentiments of distance and proximity upon the substance, and establishing measures of the ordinary and the sagely within the nature. As the Viśeṣacintabrahmaparipṛcchāsūtra says: "Brahmā asked Mañjuśrī: 'How does a bhikṣu draw near to the Buddha?' He replied: 'Brahmā, if in phenomena a bhikṣu does not see any phenomenon as either near or far, this is called drawing near to the Buddha.'" The Mahāsaṃnipātasūtra says: "One who is not conscious of even a subtle characteristic of a single phenomenon can understand the Tathāgata's arising in the world. An arising that is non-arising is precisely the Buddha's arising." Thus, if one does not see a single phenomenon, one constantly sees all Buddhas; then across a thousand miles there is the same wind. If one sees a single phenomenon, one does not see all Buddhas; then facing each other they are as alien as the Hu and Yue. Therefore, know that when one turns one's back on citta and accords with objects, defilements instantly arise; when one turns one's back on objects and accords with citta, one completely illumines the dharmadhātu. Why so? Citta is that on which things depend; phenomena are that which depends. That which depends arises from that on which it depends: just as water is that on which things depend and waves are that which depends. Apart from water there are no waves; apart from citta there are no phenomena. Furthermore, citta is that which produces; phenomena are that which is produced. Just as wood can produce fire—wood is that which produces and fire is that which is produced—apart from wood there is no fire; apart from citta there are no phenomena. Therefore, know that for those who do not take citta as the Way, it is like a thousand people pushing against a gate, not one of whom manages to enter. If one understands citta and enters abruptly, it is like one person pulling the latch, thereby opening the way for all ten thousand things. Is this not what is meant by grasping the essential of the Mirror of the Source? Therefore, the wondrous nature suffers no deficiency; delusion and awakening are gained by oneself. Not a single phenomenon moves, yet turning toward or turning away are suddenly divided. As the Śūraṅgamasūtra says: "The Buddha said: 'Pūrṇa, you also asked: "Earth, water, fire, and wind are inherently consummate and completely pervade the dharmadhātu; yet I doubt why the natures of water and fire do not overwhelm and destroy each other. You also asked how empty space and the great earth can both pervade the dharmadhātu and yet not be incompatible." Pūrṇa, just as empty space in its substance is not the multitude of characteristics, yet it does not reject the manifestation of those characteristics. Why is this? Pūrṇa, that great empty space becomes bright when the sun shines; it becomes dark when clouds gather; it moves when the wind stirs; it becomes clear when the sky clears; it becomes murky when vapors condense; dust accumulating makes it hazy; clear water reflecting makes it brilliant. What do you think? Do these conditioned characteristics of distinct places arise caused by those things, or do they exist from empty space? If they are produced by those things, Pūrṇa, at the time of sunlight, since it is the sun's brightness, the worlds of the ten directions are uniformly of the sun's color; why then does one still see the round sun in the sky? If it is the brightness of empty space, empty space should shine of itself; why then, in the middle of the night or at times of clouds and mist, does no radiance arise? You should know that this brightness is neither the sun nor empty space, nor is it different from empty space and the sun. Contemplating characteristics, they are originally false, with nothing to point to—like expecting flowers in the sky to bear sky-fruit. Why cross-examine the meaning of their mutually overwhelming and destroying each other? Contemplating the nature, it is originally true, solely wondrous, enlightened, and bright. The wondrously enlightened, bright mind is primarily neither water nor fire; why do you further ask about their incompatibility? The true, wondrously enlightened brightness is also like this: if you manifest empty space, empty space appears; if earth, water, fire, and wind are each manifested, each appears. If they are simultaneously manifested, they simultaneously appear. How do they simultaneously appear? Pūrṇa, just as in a single body of water the reflection of the sun appears: two people view the sun in the water together, and walk east and west respectively; then each has a sun following the two people, one east and one west, with no fixed standard from the start. One should not pose the difficulty: "This sun is one; why does it go separately? Since each has a sun, making a pair, why did only one appear [before]?" It is shifting and false, with nothing to rely upon. Pūrṇa, you use form and emptiness to overthrow and wrest from each other within the tathāgatagarbha, yet the tathāgatagarbha accordingly becomes form and emptiness, pervading the dharmadhātu. Therefore within it, wind moves and space clears, the sun is bright and clouds are dark. Sentient beings are deluded and confused; turning their backs on awakening and according with defilement, they give rise to defilements, and worldly characteristics exist. I, by means of wondrous brightness that is unarisen and unceasing, accord with the tathāgatagarbha; and the tathāgatagarbha is solely wondrous, enlightened, and bright, completely illumining the dharmadhātu.'" Therefore, know that the wondrously enlightened, bright mind is serene and unmoving. Manifesting in accordance with karma, it accordingly becomes form and emptiness, pervading the dharmadhātu. Sentient beings turn their backs on their fundamental awakening and falsely grasp at emotional defilements; contrary [to truth], within the equal, one true awakening, they recognize the differentiated realms that appear. Following wherever manifestations occur, they arbitrarily assert right and wrong—just like determining differences within the substance of empty space. Truly this is false and inverted, with no principle to rely upon. Whenever the true teachings of the holy wisdom are set forth, they are all to shatter these inversions. If one knows that inversions are unreal, naturally there are no phenomena to be discussed. As the Avataṃsakasūtra says: "Using wisdom, enter into all Buddha-dharmas, and expound them for sentient beings so that they may eliminate inversions. Yet know that apart from sentient beings there are no inversions, and apart from inversions there are no sentient beings. Not inside inversions are there sentient beings, nor inside sentient beings are there inversions. Inversions are not sentient beings, nor are sentient beings inversions. Inversions are not internal phenomena; inversions are not external phenomena. Sentient beings are not internal phenomena; sentient beings are not external phenomena. All phenomena are false and unreal, quickly arising and quickly ceasing, devoid of stability; like dreams, like shadows, like illusions, like apparitions, they deceive and delude foolish people." As the Commentary explains: "The sūtra text has four pairs. The first three pairs look at the two mutually; the last pair distinguishes them in their very substance. Among the first three pairs, the first two concern non-separation, and the latter one concerns non-identity; this reveals that sentient beings and inversions are neither identical nor separate. Sentient beings are the persons capable of giving rise to inversions, belonging to the defiled aspect of the other-dependent [nature] (paratantra). Inversions are the falsities produced, which are the fully imagined [nature] (parikalpita). The first pair clarifies non-separation: because they grasp the real based on the apparent, apart from sentient beings there are no inversions; because the apparent arises based on grasping, apart from inversions there are no sentient beings. The second pair clarifies that they do not reside within each other, re-explaining the previous meaning. Saying that they are not separate clarifies that cause and effect mutually depend and are conditioned; there is no prior substance wherein two things reside in each other. In the cause there is no effect, hence inside inversions there are no sentient beings; if they necessarily existed, then the fully imagined would be the other-dependent. In the effect there is no cause, hence inside sentient beings there are no inversions; if one insisted they must exist, then there would be no non-inverted sentient beings. The third pair clarifies non-identity: because it does not destroy cause and effect, or the two characteristics of that which imagines and that which is imagined. From the first three pairs, one knows that sentient beings and inversions are neither one nor different, neither identical nor separate. The fourth pair distinguishes them in their very substance. The inverted mind arises only by depending on objects, hence it is not an internal phenomenon; if it were internal, it should exist without an object. Because it is calculated by emotion, it is not an external phenomenon; if it were external, the wise should not be undefiled by objects. Since it is neither internal nor external, how could it be in between? Thus its very substance is naturally empty; by what could it be contrasted with the other to clarify identity or separation? Sentient beings are also like this: sought within the aggregates, they are non-existent, hence not an internal phenomenon; apart from the aggregates they are also non-existent, hence not an external phenomenon. Since they are neither internal nor external, the intermediate is also cut off. Their fundamental nature is inherently empty; how could they give rise to inversions? By what could they be contrasted with the other to clarify that they are not identical or separate? Knowing this, one is naturally free from inversion. Expounding this to beings, inverted delusion is naturally eliminated." The reason [it says] that, through failure to comprehend that what is conditionally formed is not solid, one falsely gives rise to imagination, is why it says, 'they deceive and delude foolish people.' In reality, foolish people deceive themselves—like a monkey grasping at the moon, not the moon grasping at the monkey. Furthermore, a verse in the Madhyamakaśāstra says:

“Where there is inversion, inversion does not arise;
Where there is no inversion, inversion does not arise;
One who is inverted does not give rise to inversion;
One not inverted does not invert either.
If at the time of inverting,
Inversion does not arise either;
You may observe for yourself:
Who gives rise to inversion?”

For one who is already inverted, inversion does not arise further, because they are already inverted; one who is not inverted does not invert either, because there is no inversion; hence at the time of inverting, there is also no inversion, because there would be two faults. Now, abandon arrogance and carefully observe for yourself: who is the inverted one? Furthermore, all inversions do not arise: how can this meaning stand? Because there is no inversion, how could there be an inverted one? Because inversions are broken through various causes and conditions, one falls into non-arising. If one becomes attached to non-arising, claiming that non-arising is the true characteristic of inversion, therefore the verse says:

“How could non-arising be called inversion?”

Even untainted phenomena are not yet called the characteristic of non-arising, how much less could inversion be the characteristic of non-arising! If there is no inversion, how could there be an inverted one? Because only on account of the inverted one is there inversion.

20.4

Question: Why is it that all inversions do not constitute falsity?

20.5

Answer: It is only because of what is grasped through emotion that it ends up as falsity. Because grasping is fundamentally empty, the false is precisely not false. As the Commentary on the Awakening of Faith says: "That which is grasped is fundamentally empty, and the true mind is unmoving—the two alternately establish each other. It is solely because that which is grasped is fundamentally empty that the true mind is unmoving; it is solely because the true mind is unmoving that that which is grasped can be fundamentally empty. How is this different from the ten thousand forms being fundamentally empty while the bright mirror does not move? What is meant by the true and the false alternately establishing each other? Because delusion about the true gives rise to the false, the false is established on account of the true; when one awakens to the false being identical to the true, the true is revealed through the false."

20.6

Question: How can one succeed in transcending inversion, not deceiving oneself, and being free of fault?

20.7

Answer: As the Mahāsaṃnipātasūtra says: "Like a fifth great element, like a seventh sense-feeling, like a nineteenth dhātu—without egress or ingress, without arising or ceasing, without activity, without citta, manas, or vijñāna—this is called being free of fault."

20.8

Question: If the mind-nature is fundamentally pure, why speak of adventitious defilements?

20.9

Answer: The citta is fundamentally pure; its traces are also pure, its substance is also pure, and its function is also pure. Because apart from the one mind there is no other purity, erroneous defilements cannot defile it, and true dharmas cannot purify it. Why is this? Apart from citta there is no different dharma—how could there be a defilement capable of defiling it? Nor is there any true dharma apart from citta—how could there be a purity capable of purifying it? Thus, a blade cannot cut itself, and a finger cannot touch itself. A verse in the Mahāyānasūtrālaṃkāra says:
'It has been said that the nature of citta is pure,
yet it is defiled by adventitious dust.
Not apart from the tathatā of citta
is there another pure nature of citta.'
Not apart from the tathatā of citta is there another citta—namely, the dependent characteristic (paratantralakṣaṇa)—that is spoken of as intrinsically pure. In this, one should know that the tathatā of citta is spoken of as citta, and this very citta is spoken of as intrinsically pure. This citta is precisely the amalavijñāna. Furthermore, as for all sentient beings who have not yet seen the nature: although hidden by adventitious dust and buried by the five aggregates, no matter how they transmigrate back and forth through birth and death, its nature is not obscured. If they meet a good spiritual friend to uncover and open it, it will ultimately become manifest of itself. Because it is the supramundane, eternally abiding jewel of the citta, how could the mundane dharmas of impermanence, decay, and arising and ceasing cause it to fall into ruin? It is like the store of gold in the poor woman's room, which, though not yet excavated, does not shift; like the precious pearl on the champion's forehead, which, no matter how it sinks during combat, is ever-present; like the medicinal flavor in the Himalayan bamboo tube, which, though briefly flowing forth, constantly endures; like the diamond beneath the great earth, which, even if chiselled and bored, is not destroyed. Therefore, the Mahāparinirvāṇasūtra states:
'Bodhisattva Kāśyapa said to the Buddha: "World-Honoured One, from this day forth, I have finally attained right view. World-Honoured One, before this, all of us were called people of wrong view. World-Honoured One, does the self exist in the twenty-five states of existence, or not?"
The Buddha said: "Good man, the self is the meaning of the tathāgatagarbha. All sentient beings possess the Buddha-nature—this is the meaning of the self. This meaning of the self has from the beginning always been covered by immeasurable kleśas; therefore, sentient beings have been unable to see it. Good man, it is like a poor woman in whose house is a store of abundant real gold, yet no one in the household, great or small, knows of it. Then an extraordinary man, skilled in knowing expedient means, says to the poor woman: 'I will now hire you; you may weed out the overgrown grass for me.' The woman then replies: 'I cannot. If you can show my son the store of gold, only then will I quickly work for you.' The man again says: 'I know the expedient means and can show your son.' The woman replies: 'No one in my house, great or small, even knows of it, so how could you know?' The man again says: 'I truly am able now.' The woman replies: 'I also wish to see it; please show it to me.' That man then digs out the store of real gold in her house. Having seen it, the woman gives rise to joy in her mind, conceives a notion of wonder, and reveres that man. Good man, the Buddha-nature of sentient beings is also like this: all sentient beings cannot see it, just as the poor person did not know of that jewel store. Good man, I now universally show all sentient beings that whatever Buddha-nature they possess is covered over by the kleśas—just as that poor person, having a store of real gold, could not see it. Today the Tathāgata universally shows sentient beings the jewel store of all awakenings—namely, the Buddha-nature—and when sentient beings have seen this, their minds give rise to joy, and they take refuge in and revere the Tathāgata. The one skilled in expedient means is the Tathāgata; the poor woman is all immeasurable sentient beings; the store of real gold is the Buddha-nature.
Furthermore, it is like a royal household having a mighty wrestler. Between this man's eyebrows is a diamond pearl. He wrestles and grapples with another wrestler, and that wrestler butts him with his head. The pearl on his forehead immediately sinks into his flesh, and he does not know at all where the pearl is. There is a wound in that place, so he summons an excellent physician, wishing to treat himself. At that time, an insightful physician, well-versed in prescriptions and medicines, sees that the wound is due to the pearl entering the body. When the pearl entered the skin, it came to rest there. The excellent physician then asks the wrestler: 'Sir, where is the pearl on your forehead?' The wrestler replies in alarm: 'Great Master, King of Physicians, has the pearl on my forehead gone missing? Where is that pearl now? Could it be an illusion?' and weeps in distress. At that time, the excellent physician consoles the wrestler: 'You should not give rise to great sorrow and suffering now. When you fought, the precious pearl entered your body; it is now under the skin, and its image is visible on the outside. When you were fighting, the poison of wrath was intense, and the pearl sank into your body, so you did not know it.' At that time, the wrestler does not believe the physician's words: 'If it is under the skin, where pus and blood are impure, why does it not come out? If it is inside the sinews, it should not be visible. Why do you now deceive me?' Then the physician takes a mirror to reflect his face; the pearl is clearly and distinctly visible in the mirror. Having seen it, the wrestler feels amazement and conceives a notion of wonder. Good man, all sentient beings are also like this: because they cannot draw near to a good spiritual friend, although they possess the Buddha-nature, none can see it, and they are covered over by lust, wrath, and folly. Therefore, they fall into the hells, animals, hungry ghosts, asuras, caṇḍālas, kṣatriyas, brāhmaṇas, vaiśyas, and śūdras, being born into such various families. Because of the various karmic conditions arisen from the citta, although they receive a human body, they may be deaf, blind, mute, crippled, or lame, receiving various retributions in the twenty-five states of existence. Lust, wrath, and folly cover their minds, so they do not know the Buddha-nature—just as that wrestler, with the precious pearl in his body, thought he had lost it. Sentient beings are also like this: because they do not know to draw near to a good spiritual friend, they do not recognize the subtle and secret jewel store of the Tathāgata, and practicing the learning of non-self, they are like non-nobles. Although it is said that there is a self, they also do not know the true nature of the self. My disciples are also like this: because they do not know to draw near to a good spiritual friend, in practicing the learning of non-self, they also do not know the locus of non-self; since they do not even know the true nature of non-self, how much less could they know the true nature of having a self? Good man, the Tathāgata in this way says that all sentient beings possess the Buddha-nature, just as the excellent physician showed that wrestler the diamond pearl. These sentient beings are covered over by immeasurable billions of kleśas and do not recognize the Buddha-nature. If their kleśas are exhausted, then they will clearly realize and know it, just as that wrestler saw his precious pearl in the clear mirror. Good man, the Tathāgata's secret store is immeasurable and inconceivable like this.
Furthermore, good man, it is like the Himalayas, where there is a medicinal herb of one flavor named 'Delightful Flavor'. Its flavor is extremely sweet; growing under deep thickets, no one can see it. Some people smell its fragrance and then know that in this ground there must be this herb. In past ages, there was a wheel-turning king who, for the sake of this herb, made wooden tubes everywhere in these Himalayas to collect this herb. When this herb matured, it flowed out from the ground and gathered in the wooden tubes; its flavor was genuine. After the king passed away, thereafter this herb became sour or salty, sweet or bitter, pungent or bland. Thus this single flavor had various differences according to where it flowed. The true flavor of this herb remained on the mountain, like the full moon. Ordinary people of meager merit, though wielding hoes and laboring bitterly, could not obtain it. Then a holy king appeared in the world, and by the causes and conditions of merit, he immediately obtained the genuine flavor of this herb. Good man, the Tathāgata's secret store is also like this in its flavor: covered by the thicket of kleśas, sentient beings of avidyā cannot see it. The herb of one flavor is an analogy for the Buddha-nature. Because of kleśas, it produces various flavors—namely, hells, animals, hungry ghosts, devas, humans, male, female, non-male and non-female, kṣatriyas, brāhmaṇas, vaiśyas, and śūdras. The Buddha-nature is valorous and difficult to destroy; therefore, there is none who can kill it. If there were one who could kill it, that would sever the Buddha-nature. Such a Buddha-nature can ultimately never be severed; if the nature could be severed, that would be impossible. What is the nature of the self is precisely the secret store of the Tathāgata. Such a secret store cannot be destroyed or burned away by anyone. Although it cannot be destroyed, it cannot be seen. Only when one succeeds in attaining anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi will one then realize and know it. Due to this reason, none can kill it."
Bodhisattva Kāśyapa again said to the Buddha: "World-Honoured One, if there is no killer, there should be no unwholesome karma."
The Buddha told Kāśyapa: "There truly is the killing of living beings. Why? Good man, the Buddha-nature of sentient beings abides within the five aggregates. If one destroys the five aggregates, this is called killing living beings. If one kills living beings, one immediately falls into evil destinies. Due to karmic causes and conditions, there are kṣatriyas, brāhmaṇas, vaiśyas, śūdras, and caṇḍālas, male or female, non-male or non-female, the differentiated characteristics of the twenty-five states of existence, transmigrating through birth and death. Non-noble people falsely cling to a self, taking various characteristics, great or small, like a panicum seed, or saying it is like a bean, up to the size of a thumb. In these various ways they falsely give rise to conceptualizations; the characteristics of false conceptualizations have no reality. The supramundane characteristic of the self is called the Buddha-nature; to cling to the self in this way is called the most excellent.
Furthermore, good man, it is like someone who knows hidden treasures well: he takes a sharp hoe and digs straight down into the ground; boulders, sand, and gravel are passed through without difficulty, and only when he reaches diamond can he not pierce through. As for diamond, no knife or axe can destroy it. Good man, the Buddha-nature of sentient beings is also like this: all debaters, the heavenly Māra Pāpīyas, and humans and devas cannot destroy it. The characteristics of the five aggregates are precisely created things; the characteristics of created things are like stones and sand, which can be pierced and destroyed. The Buddha-nature is like diamond, which cannot be destroyed. For this reason, destroying the five aggregates is called killing living beings. Good man, you must definitely know that the Buddha-Dharma is inconceivable like this.'
From this we know that although we have the Buddha-nature, it has long been dimmed by worldly defilements; we must use śamatha and vipaśyanā to perfume and cultivate it, and only then will it attain clarity and purity. Like the poor woman obtaining the treasure in the storehouse, or the wrestler seeing the pearl in the mirror, one only then personally awakens to one's own citta's wondrous awakening, fully perfected. Furthermore, how does one practice śamatha and vipaśyanā so as to accord with true cultivation? Simply realize that the mind capable of contemplating and the object contemplated are each free from intrinsic nature; then the erroneous mind ceases of itself—this is called śamatha. Constantly maintaining this contemplation without losing its illumination is called vipaśyanā. Thus śamatha is immediately vipaśyanā, and vipaśyanā is immediately śamatha; there is neither subject nor object of contemplation—this is called śamatha-vipaśyanā. As an ancient worthy said: 'The quiescence of dharma-nature is called śamatha; quiescent yet constantly illuminating is called vipaśyanā.' It is not that the subject and object of contemplation are two different things. Therefore, a verse in the Avataṃsakasūtra says:
'If one wishes to know the Buddha's realm,
one should purify one's thought like empty space,
departing from false conceptualizations and all graspings,
causing whatever the mind directs toward to be unimpeded.'
The commentary explains: 'First, departing from false grasping is like that pure sky having no clouds or haze; this is true śamatha. Second, encountering objects without obstruction is like that pure sky having no hindrance; this is true vipaśyanā. This vipaśyanā does not deliberately form an intention to illuminate objects, so what is illuminated is boundless; this śamatha, because its substance is free from nature and ceases falsehood, makes all destinies quiescent. If it is like this, then without brushing or polishing, it is naturally pure. The purity of non-purity mysteriously accords with the source of dharmas; the cultivation of non-cultivation silently treads into the Buddha's realm.'
Therefore we know that the true wisdom of the one mind alone is our own fundamental body, serenely ever-present and presently manifest in clarity and purity. Naturally, with the beak of wisdom, it pecks open the shell of avidyā, flies out of the three realms, free and unimpeded. Only at this time does one come to see the nature clearly. What other dharma could possibly compare with it? As the 'Song of Solitary Quiescence' by Danxia says:
'Without delusion, there must be the undeluded citta;
When observed it seems shallow, but when applied it is deep.
If this true pearl is gathered,
How could it be like a woodcutter carrying yellow gold?
When yellow gold is smelted, it turns anew;
This pearl contains its radiance, not yet shown to others.
Once understood, the tip of a hair swallows the great ocean;
Only then does one know that the great earth is a single dust mote.'

20.10

Question: The citta of all buddhas pervades the citta of all sentient beings, capable of manifesting as an ordinary person's mind; the body of sentient beings pervades the body of all buddhas, capable of serving as the noble substance. Is this accomplished through movement and mutual pervasion, or are they of a single substance?

20.11

Answer: If one says they involve movement, that would imply conditioned fabrication. If one says they mutually pervade, then there would be two minds. Therefore, the permanently abiding one mind is like the substance of space; the two designations of 'ordinary' and 'noble' are akin to flowers in the sky. Though the arising and vanishing of blue and yellow differ, they do not exceed the nature of the great void; though delusion and awakening, rising and sinking, are distinct, they do not depart from the source of true awakening. Furthermore, it is like a thousand lamps in a single room, their lights mutually interpenetrating; or like ten thousand images in a single mirror, their reflections interwoven. They are neither different nor identical, neither coming nor going. Only a Buddha completely understands those who reach this purport. Therefore, the myriad phenomena are identical with the real, devoid of any characteristic of transformation. The Avataṃsakasūtra says: 'Knowing the citta to be like an illusion, it generates the spheres of all phenomena, all-pervading and inexhaustible, never depleted and never ceasing.' The Mahāsaṃnipātasūtra says: 'Abiding in the one mind, one can know the minds of all sentient beings. Observing the minds of sentient beings, they are all equal, like illusory transformations, intrinsically pure. Observing the bodily actions of all sentient beings to be equal, they are all like the moon in the water. One sees all sentient beings entirely within one's own body, and one's own body is also within the bodies of sentient beings, appearing like reflections. One can cause sentient beings all to become the Buddha's body, and also cause one's own body to become the bodies of sentient beings, with nothing whatsoever capable of moving or shifting.' Furthermore, a sūtra verse says: 'All buddhas are just like a great round mirror, / and my body is like a maṇi jewel. / The dharmakāya of all buddhas enters my substance; / my body constantly enters the bodies of all buddhas.' Although they mutually enter, there is nothing entered; if there were something entered, they would become two separate phenomena.

20.12

Question: If truly there are no phenomena outside of citta and only the source is singled out, then without buddhas there would be no person capable of transforming [others], and without sentient beings there would be no multitude to be transformed. Since it entirely reverts to having nowhere to rely, how can [the Dharma] be continued and propagated?

20.13

Answer: It is simply because understanding mind-only accomplishes the Buddha of equality, and comprehending consciousness-only practices compassion of identical substance. If one does not directly and suddenly awaken to this source, both self-benefit and benefit for others are lost together. Why is this? Failing to enter the equality of the one mind contradicts the true source of attaining buddhahood; not understanding identical-substance great compassion falls into the delusional conceptions of love and views. As the 'Contemplating Sentient Beings' chapter of the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa-sūtra says: 'At that time, Mañjuśrī asked Vimalakīrti, "How should a bodhisattva contemplate sentient beings?" Vimalakīrti said, "Just as a magician sees the people he creates by illusion, so does a bodhisattva contemplate sentient beings: like a wise person seeing the moon in water; like seeing the reflection of one's face in a mirror; like a mirage in the heat; like the echo of a cry; like clouds in the sky; like clusters of foam on water; like bubbles upon water; like the solidity of a plantain tree; like a flash of lightning lingering long; like a fifth great element; like a sixth skandha; like a seventh sense-faculty; like a thirteenth āyatana; like a nineteenth dhātu—so does a bodhisattva contemplate sentient beings. Like form in the formless realm; like the sprout of scorched grain; like the view of selfhood in a srotāpanna; like the entry into a womb by an anāgāmin; like the three poisons in an arhat; like greed, anger, and breaking of precepts in a bodhisattva who has attained tolerance; like the residue of kleśas in a Buddha; like a blind man seeing colors; like the inhalation and exhalation of one who has entered the cessation attainment; like bird tracks in the sky; like the child of a barren woman; like the kleśas of an illusory person; like what is seen in a dream after having awakened; like receiving a body by one who has passed into extinction; like fire without smoke—so does a bodhisattva contemplate sentient beings." Mañjuśrī said, "If a bodhisattva practices this contemplation, how does he practice benevolence?" Vimalakīrti said, "Having performed this contemplation, the bodhisattva thinks to himself: 'I should preach such Dharma for sentient beings.' This is genuine benevolence."' The Personal Notes on the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa-sūtra explains: 'Now expounding the "Contemplating Sentient Beings" chapter is extremely essential. Merely practicing in accord with a single sentence in it is sufficient. If you obtain a single sentence to collect your mind and constantly illumine and practice it, all ten thousand practices are complete. Just now you yourself contemplate: contemplate your own body and mind as ultimately empty like this—this is precisely the bodhisattva contemplating sentient beings. "Bodhisattva" is called the Way. The Way can penetrate; it penetrates the original nature of your form and mind, causing them to depart from falsehood—this is precisely the bodhisattva. The bodhisattva is only within your body. Contemplate your body and mind as like a third hand, being ultimately devoid of body and mind. Herein, the method of applying the mind in sitting in meditation shown to people is exceedingly good: simply contemplating body and mind like this, with nothing that can be made—calm and distraction, right and wrong, oneness and difference—all being equal, is precisely the method of sitting in meditation. It is not like that of people today, who reckon that there is a mind that can be apprehended, saying, "My mind is distracted," and wishing to remove distraction and take hold of calm—this completely becomes an inversion; one must become aware of Māra's affairs. Moreover, if people today wish to deliver sentient beings, day and night they ought to contemplate the nature of the kleśas arising in their own minds—that itself is delivering sentient beings. Simply this wisdom that contemplates kleśas is called "Buddha," nothing more. Śākyamuni has already contemplated kleśas and already finished becoming a Buddha; he preached teachings and left them behind for ordinary people nowadays to cultivate and practice according to the teachings. If one says that there is a separate Buddha, and separately many sentient beings of the world whom the Buddha sequentially finished delivering, and only thereafter became a Buddha—if so, since Śākyamuni has already finished becoming a Buddha, how could one still see the world filled with sentient beings nowadays? You should know this is not so. For the word "finished" means exhausted.' The contemplation of sentient beings above is concluded. Next, regarding the contemplation of the Tathāgata, as the 'Akṣobhya Buddha' chapter says: 'At that time the World-Honoured One asked Vimalakīrti, "You wish to see the Tathāgata; in what way do you contemplate the Tathāgata?" Vimalakīrti said, "Just as I contemplate the real characteristic of my own body, I contemplate the Buddha likewise. I contemplate the Tathāgata: he does not come from the past limit, does not go to the future limit, and at present does not abide. I do not contemplate form; I do not contemplate the tathatā of form; I do not contemplate the nature of form. I do not contemplate feeling, perception, formation, and consciousness; I do not contemplate the tathatā of consciousness; I do not contemplate the nature of consciousness. He is not arisen from the four great elements, being identical to empty space. The six āyatanas are without accumulation: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind are already transcended. He is not in the three realms; the three stains are already abandoned. He accords with the three gates of liberation; the three vidyās are equal to avidyā. He is not of one characteristic, not of different characteristics, not of self-characteristic, not of other-characteristic, neither without characteristics nor grasping characteristics. He is not on this shore, not on the other shore, and not in the middle stream, yet he transforms sentient beings. He contemplates nirvāṇa without being eternally extinguished. He is not this and not that; he is not by this and not by that. He cannot be known through wisdom; he cannot be recognized through consciousness. He is without obscurity and without brightness, without name and without characteristic, without strong and without weak, neither pure nor defiled. He is not located in a direction, nor apart from a direction. He is not conditioned and not unconditioned. He is without indication and without explanation. He neither gives nor is stingy; neither observes precepts nor transgresses; neither tolerates nor is wrathful; neither is diligent nor indolent; neither is concentrated nor distracted; neither is wise nor foolish; neither is sincere nor deceitful; does not come and does not go; does not exit and does not enter. The path of all speech is cut off. He is not a field of merit, nor is he not a field of merit; he is neither worthy of offerings nor not worthy of offerings. He neither grasps nor relinquishes; he is neither characteristic nor uncharacterized. He is identical with the real limit, equal to the nature of phenomena; he cannot be weighed, cannot be measured, transcending all weighing and measuring; neither great nor small; neither seen nor heard, neither sensed nor known; departed from all saṃyojanas and bandhanas; equal to all wisdoms, identical with sentient beings; without discrimination regarding all dharmas, without loss in all things, without touch and without affliction, without doing and without arising, without birth and without extinction, without fear and without sorrow, without joy, without aversion, without attachment, without past existence, without future existence, without present existence; he cannot be discriminated and displayed through all spoken words. World-Honoured One, the Tathāgata's body is like this. To perform such a contemplation is called right contemplation; if one performs another contemplation, it is called wrong contemplation."' The Tiantai Commentary on the Vimalakīrti explains: 'Regarding "not contemplating form, not contemplating the tathatā of form, not contemplating the nature of form": "Not contemplating form" means that the mind is like a magician, magically producing various forms. If one knows that the magician is a fraud, then the forms conjured cannot be apprehended. Now, forms are conjured up by the magician of the mind; if even this mind cannot be apprehended, where could one see the existence of these forms? Therefore, one should not contemplate form. "Not contemplating tathatā" means that if one sees form as different from tathatā, this would be to extinguish form to enter tathatā. Now, one does not see any distinction between form and tathatā; therefore, one does not contemplate tathatā. "Not contemplating nature" means not contemplating the buddha-nature. Not contemplating form empties the conventional. Not contemplating tathatā empties the ultimate. Not contemplating the buddha-nature empties the Middle Way. Because one calculates that the Middle Way possesses a buddha-nature and generates an affection that accords with the Way, this is a "crest-fall." Therefore a sūtra says: "I and nirvāṇa—these two are both empty. There is only the illness of emptiness, and the illness of emptiness is also empty." Now, not contemplating nature is because of the absence of affection that accords with the Way.' Generally, receiving differentiated karmic retributions in the world is entirely due to a single thought of mental difference, where discriminating passions arise: grasping the characteristic of sentient beings constitutes the ordinary; clinging to the realm of the Buddhas constitutes the sacred. As stated in the sūtra, contemplating sentient beings is like a magician seeing an illusion; contemplating the Tathāgata means the substance of the three limits is empty. Thereupon the two views are extinguished together, and passionate measures are completely eliminated. Then one can accomplish the joy of all Buddhas and eliminate the sorrow of bodhisattvas. Believing in this one mind enables one to enter the mirror of the source. Therefore, a verse in the 'Spiritual Powers' chapter of the Lotus Sūtra says: 'One who can uphold this sūtra / Causes me and my manifested bodies, / As well as the extinct Prabhūtaratna Buddha, / All to rejoice.' An ancient sage said: 'That the noble and conventional are not leveled, and that the two limits are not obliterated, is the sorrow of bodhisattvas.' The Great Vaipulya Mahāsaṃnipāta-sūtra says: '"Buddha-dharma" is the name for all dharmas; "all dharmas" are named Buddha-dharma. The nature of Buddha-dharma is precisely the nature of all dharmas; the tathatā of all dharmas' nature is precisely the nature of Buddha-dharma. Between the nature of Buddha-dharma and the nature of all dharmas, there is no difference.' Thus we know that nature is devoid of difference; according with views, differences are formed. Their substance is constantly interfused; conventional designations differ. Therefore a sūtra says: 'All dharmas and all Buddha-dharmas are merely provisional names; they are also neither dharma nor non-dharma.' The Avaivartikadharmacakra-sūtra says: 'The Buddha and bodhi possess sounds but no realities, nor do they have locations; all dharmas are likewise.' A verse in the Avataṃsaka-sūtra says: 'Know that all worlds are completely equal, / None being other than all karma of mind and speech. / Sentient beings are illusory and without reality; / All karmic retributions arise from this.' Another verse says: 'All dharmas are quiescent and not quiescent; / Depart far from this mind of twofold discrimination. / Know that all discriminations are worldly views; / Entering the true status, discriminations are exhausted.' The 'Practices of Ease' chapter of the Lotus Sūtra says: 'Furthermore, the bodhisattva mahāsattva contemplates all dharmas as empty, like the real characteristic: not inverted, not moving, not retreating, not turning, like empty space devoid of any nature, the path of all language cut off, not born, not exiting, not arising, without name and without characteristic, truly without anything existing, immeasurable and boundless, unobstructed and unhindered, existing only through causes and conditions, arising from inversion. Therefore it is said that constantly delighting in contemplating such characteristics of dharmas is called the bodhisattva mahāsattva's second sphere of intimate association.' Furthermore, the 'Lifespan of the Tathāgata' chapter says: 'Good sons, the sūtras expounded by the Tathāgata are all for delivering sentient beings. Sometimes he speaks of his own body, sometimes of another's body; sometimes he displays his own body, sometimes another's body; sometimes he displays his own deeds, sometimes another's deeds. All that he states is true and not false. Why is this? The Tathāgata knows and sees the characteristics of the three realms as they truly are: there is no birth and death, whether retreating or emerging; nor is there one who is in the world, nor one who passes into extinction; it is neither real nor false, neither such nor different. Not like the three realms, he sees the three realms. Such matters the Tathāgata clearly sees without error. Because sentient beings have various natures, various desires, various practices, and various recollections, imaginings, and discriminations, wishing to cause them to produce good roots, he uses diverse causes and conditions, parables, and verbal expressions to preach the Dharma in various ways. The Buddha-work he performs has never ceased for a moment.' Hence we know that in terms of the gate of the true source, there is not even a person in the world, nor one who passes into extinction; how much less could there be a difference between one who can transform and those who are transformed! In terms of the gate of Buddha-work, the ocean of teaching is vast and deep, and the lamp of wisdom shines broadly; functioning skillfully according with capacities, how could it be permitted to cease for a moment?

20.14

Therefore the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa asks: 'If the five skandhas are empty and devoid of a Buddha, that is a wrong view; why then does a bodhisattva generate the mind to seek to become a Buddha?'

20.15

The answer states: Here, speaking of 'no Buddha' is to break the conceptualization of grasping at a Buddha; it does not say that one grasps at the characteristic of there being no Buddha. If even a Buddha that exists is not to be grasped, how much less grasping at the wrong view of there being no Buddha! Moreover, the Buddha is eternally tranquil and extinguished, devoid of characteristics of frivolous argumentation. If someone conceptually fabricates and engages in frivolous argumentation regarding the matter of eternal tranquility and extinction, that person also falls into wrong view. Departing from the two extremes of existence and non-existence and dwelling in the Middle Way—this is precisely the true mark of all phenomena. The true mark of all phenomena is precisely the Buddha. Why is that? Attaining this true mark of all phenomena is called 'attaining the Buddha'. The *Mahāprajñāpāramitāsūtra* says: 'All bodhisattvas do not even attain Dharma, how much less non-Dharma! They do not even attain the Path, how much less non-Path!' It also says: 'Regarding the phenomena of birth and death, they neither arise nor fall; regarding all noble paths, they neither depart from nor cultivate them.' The commentary explains: 'Regarding the phenomena of birth and death they do not arise' because their self-nature is constantly empty, so one does not fall into the extreme of departing from them; 'they do not fall' because one does not follow the transmigration, so one does not fall into the extreme of being identical to them. 'Regarding all noble paths they do not depart' because their nature is constantly in accord, so one does not fall into the extreme of annihilation; 'they do not cultivate' because they are fully endowed with what is innately authentic, so one does not fall into the extreme of permanence. As the commentary of Qingliang says: 'Not clinging to the one or the many, able to establish all things' means that by not clinging to existence, one can establish them, which is the fusion of the ultimate and the conventional. That is to say, as for the characteristics of the conventional, illusory existence, their characteristics are originally empty in themselves; as for the principle of ultimate, true emptiness, its principle is eternally existing in itself. Existence is the existence that is empty, not permanent existence—this existence has never not been empty. Emptiness is the emptiness that is existent, not nihilistic emptiness—how has this emptiness ever not existed? The empty existence and the existent emptiness are one in substance though different in name. Because their names are different, the ultimate and the conventional are mutually distinct and clearly unmixed; because their substance is one, emptiness and existence accord with each other and are secretly non-dual. Being one and not being one are neither identical nor separate, fused and unobstructed. The bodhisattva's wisdom tallies with their source; therefore, while utterly transcending without resting on anything, they skillfully cultivate and establish. It also says: 'Truly because phenomena are insubstantial, they grasp principle, so there are no phenomena devoid of principle; because principle is real, it responds to conditions, so there is no principle obstructing phenomena. Therefore, being tranquil it constantly shines, and shining it is constantly tranquil. Hence, though engaging in knowing and seeing all day long, there is no knowing or seeing.' Furthermore, the bodhisattva's compassion and wisdom complete each other, appearing and disappearing without obstruction. Because of compassion, they constantly move in the world; because of wisdom, they are not tainted by worldly phenomena. Their harmonious interpenetration has three aspects: First, because compassion is never without wisdom, in the world they are never not detached; thus, while constantly in the world, they have never not transcended it. Second, because wisdom is never without compassion, detachment is never without the world; thus, while constantly transcending beyond the world, there is nowhere in the world they do not roam. Third, because both are fused, movement and stillness are non-dual and are only one thought-moment, which is what is called non-thought. Because non-thought is equal, there is no obstruction between the worldly and the supramundane. As the *Avataṃsakasūtra* says: 'Bodhisattva-mahāsattvas know how to skillfully expound the Dharma and manifest nirvāṇa; all the expedient means for the sake of delivering sentient beings are established by thoughts of the mind, yet they are neither inversions nor falsehoods. Why is that? Bodhisattvas thoroughly comprehend that all phenomena are equal in the three times, unmoving as suchness, and having no abiding place in the reality limit. They do not see a single sentient being that has been transformed, is being transformed, or will be transformed. They also know of themselves that there is nothing to cultivate, and that there is not the slightest phenomenon, whether arising or ceasing, that can be apprehended. Yet, relying on all phenomena, they make their vows not in vain. This is the ninth, the Abiding in Accordance with Reality.' Moreover, a verse says: 'A bodhisattva can, in a single thought-moment, / Contemplate countless Buddhas equal to sentient beings, / And furthermore, within a single tip of hair, / Fully gather all phenomena and clearly see them.' By means of this true vision, they accomplish unconditioned compassion, causing all sentient beings throughout the dharmadhātu to derive benefit upon seeing and hearing. Therefore, the sūtra says: 'Just as the sun and the moon do not form the intention of coming and going or illuminating, yet by the power of the merits of sentient beings, they naturally move back and forth, destroying all darkness.' If one enters into this mirror of the source, there is not a single phenomenon that can be grasped, because they are all of the same nature; nor is there a single phenomenon that can be discarded, because different characteristics are severed. Therefore, the sage is constantly good at saving people and so abandons no one; he is constantly good at saving things and so abandons nothing. Now, regarding what is called 'good', none is other than knowing the source, which is then the ultimate, supreme good. If saving people accomplishes compassion of the same substance, and if saving things returns to the principle of marklessness, then outside of the good there are no phenomena—what could there be to abandon?

First 15 of 18 passages. Read on

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宗鏡錄 — Classical Chinese