法苑珠林 84.6

84.6

夫神通勝業非定不生。無漏慧根非靜不發。故經曰。深修禪定得五神通。心在一緣是三昧相。書亦有言。當使形如枯木。心若死灰。不充誳於富貴。不隕穫於貧賤。栖神冥漢之內。遺形塵埃之表。故攝心一處便是功德叢林。散意片時即名煩惱羅剎。所以曇光釋子降猛虎於膝前。螺髻仙人宿巢禽於頂上。是知大士常修宴坐。不斷煩惱而入涅槃。不捨道法現凡夫事。又能觀察此身。從頭至足三十六物八萬戶蟲。不淨無常苦空非我。但眾生心性譬若獼猴戲跳攀緣歡娛奔逸。不能冥目束體端心勤意。剛強難化𢤱戾不調。習近五塵流轉三界。黏外道之黐。貫天魔之杖。於是永淪苦海長墜嶮獄。皆由放散情慮擾亂心神。似風裏之燈。譬波中之月。搖漾輕動。浮游汎濫。影既不現。照豈得明。所以眾惡賴此而興。諸善由斯併廢。良由不修斷惑。常起貪瞋。未服無知偏多樂受。遂令禪定之惑重沓爭來。妨靜之緣交加競集。五蓋覆心禪門已閉。六塵在念亂想常馳。類狂象之無鉤。似戲猨之得樹。故須念念策心新新集起。豈前念皆惡。遂剋苦而靜塵。後念起善。便縱意而揚惡。所以論美四時經歎一慮。然後方能正想革絕凡懷。若違此理聖亦不可。今萬境森羅不能自觸。要須因倚諸根內想感發。何以知然。今有心感於內事發於外。惑緣於外起染於內。故知內外相資表裏遞用。君臣心識不可備捨。故經云。心王若正則六臣不邪。識意昏沈則其主不明。今悔六臣當各慚愧制馭六根不令馳散也。

Now, the superior accomplishments of supernatural penetrations are not born without meditation; the undefiled roots of wisdom do not burst forth without stillness. Therefore the sūtra states: "By deeply cultivating dhyāna-meditation one attains the five supernatural penetrations; the mind abiding on a single object of focus is the mark of samādhi." Secular writings also say: "One should make the body like dried wood and the mind like dead ashes, neither feeling distressed over wealth and honour, nor dejected in poverty and low station, lodging the spirit within the obscure heavens and leaving behind the physical frame outside the dust of the world." Therefore, collecting the mind in one place is itself a grove of merit; scattering the thoughts for even a moment is immediately called a rākṣasa of afflictions. This is why the Śākyan disciple Tanguang subjugated a fierce tiger before his knees, and the topknot-wearing ṛṣi gave roost to nesting birds upon his crown. From this we know that great beings constantly cultivate quiet sitting, entering nirvāṇa without extinguishing afflictions, and manifesting the worldly affairs of ordinary people without abandoning the path of Dharma. Furthermore, they can contemplate this body: from head to foot, thirty-six substances and eighty thousand families of worms, impure, impermanent, painful, empty, and not-self. But the nature of sentient beings' minds is like a monkey playfully leaping and climbing, seeking pleasure and running rampant, unable to close the eyes, restrain the body, straighten the mind, and apply diligence. Rigid and difficult to transform, stubborn and unruly, they become habituated to the five sensory dusts and drift through the tridhātu, caught on the birdlime of non-Buddhists and pierced by the poles of the heavenly Māras. Consequently, they perpetually sink into the ocean of suffering and long fall into perilous hells, all because they unleash their emotions and thoughts, perturbing mind and spirit—like a lamp in the wind, like the moon in the waves, swaying and lightly tossing, floating and overflowing. When its reflection does not appear, how could its illumination shine brightly? Thus, the multitude of evils arises reliant upon this, while all goods are thereby abandoned together. This truly stems from failing to cultivate the severance of delusion, constantly giving rise to greed and anger, and failing to quell ignorance while having an excessive fondness for pleasant sensations. Consequently, the delusions obstructing dhyāna-meditation arrive repeatedly in contention, and conditions impeding stillness intermingle and vie to gather. The five hindrances cover the mind so that the gateway of meditation is shut; the six dusts reside in thought so that scattered imaginations constantly race—akin to a mad elephant without a goad, resembling a frolicking monkey that has gained a tree. Therefore, thought after thought one must urge the mind on, freshly gathering it again and again. How could it be that when preceding thoughts are entirely evil, one exerts bitter toil to quiet the sensory dusts, yet when subsequent thoughts give rise to good, one immediately gives free rein to intention and brings forth evil? Therefore, the treatises praise the four seasons, and the sūtras commend single-minded reflection; only then can one rectify thought and eradicate worldly longings. If one acts contrary to this principle, even a sage could not succeed. Now, the myriads of realms spread out before us cannot touch us on their own; they inevitably rely upon the faculties, so that inner thoughts are stirred and aroused. How is this known to be so? At present, the mind stirs internally and affairs arise externally; delusions are conditioned by the exterior and defilement arises within. Hence we know that inside and outside assist each other, and exterior and interior alternate in their operation. Sovereign and ministers, mind and consciousness, cannot both be cast aside. Therefore a sūtra states: "If the mind-king is upright, then the six ministers will not be astray; if conscious thought is darkened and torpid, then its master is unenlightened." Now, in repenting the six ministers, each should feel shame and conscience, controlling and driving the six faculties so that they are not permitted to gallop away in distraction.