隋天台智者大師別傳 1.2.1

1.2.1

The Great Master's taboo name was Zhiyi; his style name was De'an; his lay surname was Chen; he was a native of Yingchuan. The glorious achievements of his distant ancestors are richly recounted in the genealogical histories. When the Jin dynasty moved its capital, his family moved south along with it and sojourned in the Jiang-Han region, consequently settling in Huarong County of Jingzhou. His father, Qizu, was learned, mastered the classics and traditions, and was matchless in speech and discourse; in military strategy and calculation he was especially bold and decisive. When Xiao Yi, Prince of Xiangdong of the Liang, went to Jingzhou, he included him as a guest. Obeying orders, he entered the court as an army supervisor. When Zhu Yi saw him, he sighed and said, "Were he not a talent capable of governing the realm, who would be so valued by an eminent prince?" When Xiaoyuan ascended the throne, he was appointed Commissioner with Exceptional Powers, Cavalier Regular Attendant, and Founding County Marquis of Yiyang. His mother, Lady Xu, was gentle, good, courteous, and thrifty. She was especially diligent in observing fasts and precepts. She dreamt of five-colored fragrant smoke floating gently, circling about her bosom like mist. Wishing to brush it away, she heard someone say, "A karmic connection from previous lives is entrusted to Wangdao. Blessings and virtue will arrive of themselves; why brush it away?" She also dreamt of swallowing a white mouse, whereupon she felt her body become heavy. When he was born, at night a divine light appeared, illuminating the house, brightly shining into the neighboring rooms as well. Remembering the auspicious omen of the past, the neighbors called him Wangdao; and combining it with the later portent, he was also named Guangdao. Thus these two words were chosen as his childhood name. His eyes had double pupils; his parents hid and protected him, not wishing people to know, yet people naturally came to know of it. When he was seven years old, he liked going to monasteries. The monks orally taught him the Samantamukha-parivarta; on hearing it once for the first time, he grasped it. But his parents restrained him and forbade him to go frequently. Constantly bearing in mind the recited text and grieved that he had not heard the rest, suddenly, naturally, he understood the remaining sentences. When checked against the text later, not a single word was missing. The local community marveled, saying: is this what is meant by "warming up the old to understand the new"? At age fifteen, he met with the fall of Emperor Xiaoyuan; his household and country were destroyed, and his relatives wandered as refugees. Lamenting that prosperity and union do not last long, and mourning how easily decay and separation arrive, before a statue in Changsha he made a great vow, swearing to become a śramaṇa and take upon himself the heavy duty of shouldering the True Dharma. Because his sincere devotion resonated, he dreamt that that auspicious statue flew down to the courtyard of his house, extended a golden hand that entered through a window opening, and stroked his head three times. Because of this, he deeply loathed the prison of household life and thought of extinguishing the root of suffering. But because of his parents' affection, they would not readily grant him permission. Although he did his best to comply with them, his sleeping and eating were troubled. He then carved sandalwood to fashion a statue, opened the canon to seek scriptures, and day and night bowed and recited, thought following upon thought in unbroken succession. When he bowed before the Buddha, he threw his whole body to the ground. In a daze, as if in a dream, he saw an extremely high mountain overlooking the great sea; pure, calm, and lush, they mutually set each other off. On the mountain peak was a monk beckoning to him with his hand, calling him up. In an instant, the monk stretched out his arm to the foot of the mountain, guided him to ascend, and brought him into a monastery. He saw the statue he had made inside that hall. In the dream, weeping, he declared his vow: "May I study and master the Buddhadharmas of the three periods, and before a thousand masters of treatise expound them without impediment, so as not to vainly receive the worldly kindness of the four requisites." The monk who had stretched out his arm pointed his finger at the statue and said: "You shall dwell here; you shall end your life here." After awakening, he found himself prostrating before the Buddha; his tears shed in the dream had gathered on the ground into a stream. Sorrow and joy alternating in his bosom, his vigor became all the more intense. Later, he met with the deaths of his two parents, suffering the bitter hardship of bereavement. When the mourning period ended, he sought leave from his elder brother. His brother said, "Heaven has already taken our parents; you are slicing my heart once again. Having already been orphaned, to be parted further—how can I bear it?" Kneeling, he replied, "Formerly, the million people of Liang's Jingzhou became slaves and concubines in a single morning. At that time, my mind had long toiled over the rivers and lakes, and I could no longer abide in the midst of worldly rubble. Wishing to repay kindness and requite virtue, one must take seeking the Way as primary. What benefit is there in vain assembly? This is carved into my flesh and etched into my bones; my mind cannot be moved." At that time, Wang Lin occupied Xiangzhou. He sought leave from Wang Lin. Because [Zhiyi's father] Marquis Chen was an old acquaintance, and moreover admiring this determination and integrity, Wang Lin supplied him with Dharma requisites and deeply rejoiced in his endeavor. At age eighteen, he went to the śramaṇa Faxu of Guoyuan Temple in Xiangzhou and left household life under him. Faxu conferred the ten precepts upon him and guided him in the monastic decorum. He then took him across to the north to go to Vinaya Master Huikuang; since Huikuang also mastered the Vaipulya teachings, [Zhiyi] faced north and served him. Later he went to Mount Daxian, where he recited the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka-sūtra, Amitārtha-sūtra, and Samantabhadra-dhyāna-sūtra. In the course of two decades of days, he mastered all three works. Advancing to cultivate the vaipulya confession, with a pure mind and diligent practice, an extraordinary sign appeared before him: he saw the bodhimaṇḍa broad and vast, wonderfully decorated and adorned, but the scriptures and statues were scattered and disordered. His body was on a high seat, his feet upon a rope bed; his mouth recited the Lotus Sūtra and his hands put the scriptures and statues in order. From then on, his mental spirit was harmonized, pure, and bright. When he subsequently received the complete Vinaya Piṭaka, having mastered it, his inclinations from former lives stirred within him, and he constantly took joy in the bliss of dhyāna; yet he was disappointed that in the region east of the Yangtze there was no one worthy of being questioned. At that time, there was Dhyāna Master Huisi, a native of Wujin. His reputation stood high on the peaks of Mount Song, and his practice was deep in the Yi and Luo river valleys. For ten years he constantly recited, for seven years practiced the vaipulya confession, for ninety days constantly sat, and in a single moment achieved perfect realization; his rare abilities and deeds are made clear in his separate biography. Formerly, in the realm of the Northern Zhou, foreseeing that the Buddhadharma would meet with disaster, he turned away from the north and traveled south, intending to go to Hengyue hoping to dwell in seclusion; temporarily he stayed at Mount Dasu in Guangzhou. The late master had long yearned for his virtuous reputation as if thirsty and hungry. That region was on the border between the Chen and Qi dynasties, where weapons clashed; yet he could make light of life and value the Dharma. Thinking little of dying in the evening if only he could hear [the truth] in the morning, he traversed danger to go there. When he first had the opportunity to bow at his feet, Huisi said, "Formerly on Gṛdhrakūṭa we listened to the Lotus Sūtra together; pursued by past karmic connections, you have come again today." He immediately showed him the bodhimaṇḍa of Samantabhadra and expounded the four peaceful practices for him. Thereupon, from dusk till dawn, he toiled earnestly, examining his mind according to the instructions. At that time, he was only bold in seeking the Dharma and impoverished in material offerings. He chopped cypress for incense; when the cypress was exhausted, he followed it with chestnut. He rolled up the blind to let in the moonlight; when the moon set, he burned pine to provide light. Not a single breath was drawn in vain; not a single word was spoken rashly. After two times seven days had passed, when reciting up to the Bhaiṣajyarāja-parivarta where the buddhas praise in unison, "This is true vigor; this is called the true offering of the Dharma"—upon reaching this sentence, his body and mind opened up and peacefully entered samādhi. The dhāraṇī arose from tranquility; he illuminated and understood the Lotus Sūtra as bright sunlight overlooks a dark valley, and penetrated the true reality of all dharmas like a great wind roaming through empty space. About to obtain confirmation, he reported this to his teacher. His teacher further expounded and developed it; widely spreading the net of teachings, the dharma-items were completely provided. Inquiring into details as the sun went down, they continued link by link until dawn. What his own mind had realized and what he received from his teacher advanced his cultivation in four nights more than a hundred years of effort. To say that he "understood ten upon hearing one" would fail to serve as an adequate metaphor. His contemplative wisdom was unobstructed, the gate of dhyāna unblocked; his past practice blossomed forth, radiant like flowers in bloom. Master Huisi praised him, saying, "Were it not for you, none would have realized it; were it not for me, none could recognize it. The samādhi you have entered is the preliminary expedient for the Lotus Samādhi. The dhāraṇī that arose is the initial āvarte-dhāraṇī. Even if masters of letters were to gather in thousands and tens of thousands, their attempts to exhaust your eloquence would never come to an end. Among those who expound the Dharma, you are foremost."