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法苑珠林 84

English (machine translation) 84

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English

84.1

Compiled by Shi Daoshi, Śramaṇa of Ximing Temple

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Section on the Six Pāramitās, Number 85, Part 5

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Chapter on Meditation, Number 5 (divided into five parts):

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Part on Stating the Intention
Part on Citing Evidence
Part on Dhūta
Part on Benefits
Part on Meditation

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Part on Stating the Intention, Number 1

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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.

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Section 2: Citing Testimonies

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As the Chapter on the Mind in the Dharmapada explains: Formerly, when the Buddha was in the world, there was a man of the Way who studied the Way beneath a tree beside a river. For twelve years, his thoughts of craving were not eliminated; his mind wandered and his thoughts were scattered, thinking only of lust: his eyes of forms, his ears of sounds, his nose of scents, his tongue of tastes, his body of tangibles, and his mind of dharmas. His body was quiet while his mind wandered, without ever finding peace. In twelve years, he was unable to attain the Way. The Buddha knew he was ready to be liberated, so he manifested as a śramaṇa and went to his location to lodge together beneath the tree. Shortly afterward, under the bright moon, a turtle emerged from the river and came under the tree. There was also an otter roaming hungrily in search of food. Coming upon the turtle, it wished to eat it. The turtle pulled in its head, tail, and four legs, hiding them within its shell, so that the otter could not eat it. When the otter moved slightly away, it brought out its head and legs again, walking as before; the otter could do nothing to it, and so the turtle escaped. Thereupon, the man of the Way asked the manifested śramaṇa: "This turtle has armour to protect its life, so that the otter could not get the advantage of it." The manifested śramaṇa answered: "I reflect that the people of the world are not like this turtle; not knowing impermanence, they give free rein to the six emotions. External Māras gain the advantage over them: their bodies decay, their spirits depart, and saṃsāra is without end. Transmigrating through the five destinies, they suffer hundreds of thousands of miseries, all created by the mind. One ought to exert oneself to seek the peace of cessation and deliverance." Thereupon the manifested śramaṇa spoke this verse:

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"Conceal the six like a turtle, / guard the mind like a fortress; / when wisdom battles with Māra, / victory leaves no suffering."

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The Sūtra on Seeking Deliverance from the Prison also states: At that time, King Aśoka had a younger brother named Shanrong (also named Weituoshouji) who went into the mountains to hunt. He saw various brāhmaṇas engaged in naked austerities without any attainment. The king's brother saw them and asked: "You practice the Way here; what troubles and burdens prevent you from achieving success?" The brāhmaṇas replied: "Because herds of deer frequently gather and mate here, when we see them our minds are stirred and we cannot control ourselves." When the prince heard this, an evil thought arose in him: "These brāhmaṇas live on the wind and feed on air; their vigor is weak and exhausted, yet their faults of lust have not been eradicated. The śramaṇas of the Śākyan clan eat sweet and delicious foods, sit on fine couches, wear fine clothes suited to the seasons, and perfume themselves with fragrant flowers. How could they be free from desire?" At that time, King Aśoka heard that his brother held such an opinion and felt grief and distress: "I have only one brother. If he suddenly gives rise to false views, I fear he will be lost forever. I must devise an expedient means to eliminate his evil thoughts." He immediately returned to the palace and ordered the singing girls to adorn themselves and go to Shanrong's quarters to entertain each other. He instructed his great ministers in advance: "I have a plan. If I command you to execute Shanrong, you must remonstrate, requesting to wait seven days before letting the king execute him." The singing girls then went to entertain him. Before long, the king went in person and said to his brother: "Why have you taken my singing girls, wives, and concubines to amuse yourself at will?" Depriving him in stern anger, the king hurled his discus into the air, summoned the ministers, and announced to them: "Do you know? I am not yet decrepit and old, nor have foreign invaders or powerful enemies breached our borders. I once heard an old proverb from ancient worthies: 'When a man has blessings, the four seas submit to him; when his blessings are exhausted and his virtue is thin, those at his armpits rebel against him.' Examining myself, no such upheaval has occurred. Yet my brother Shanrong has seduced my singing girls, wives, and concubines to indulge his desires at will. Matters being such, how could I tolerate him? Take him away to the marketplace and execute him!" The ministers remonstrated: "We only pray that the Great King will heed our humble words. You have only this one younger brother, and he has few heirs to succeed his line. We pray you grant him seven days, after which we will carry out the royal decree." The king remained silent and granted the ministers' request. The king then extended a generous mercy, ordering the ministers: "Allow the prince to wear my royal garments, heavenly crown, and awe-inspiring adornments without difference from mine. Let him enter my palace to play music with the courtesans and make merry together." He also commanded an officer from that day onward to don armor, hold a weapon, draw a sharp sword, and go tell Prince Shanrong: "Know that your deadline of seven days will expire, at which point you must face execution. Strive to open and indulge your five desires to amuse yourself; if you do not enjoy yourself now, you will have regrets after death, and remorse will be of no avail." After one day passed, the officer went again and said: "There are six days remaining." Thus it went in sequence until the final day, when the officer went and reported: "The prince should know: six days have passed and only tomorrow remains, when you must meet death. Strive to indulge your passions and amuse yourself with the five desires." When the seventh day arrived, the king sent an envoy to ask: "How was it, prince? During these seven days, was your will unrestrained and joyful?" The brother replied to the king: "The Great King should know: I saw nothing and heard nothing; what joy could there be?" The king asked his brother: "Wearing my clothes, entering my palace, entertaining yourself with courtesans, and eating sweet delicacies, why do you lie to my face that you saw nothing, heard nothing, and had no joy?" The brother said to the king: "A person condemned to die, though his life has not yet ceased, how is he different from the dead? What mind could I have to cling to the five desires?" The king told his brother: "Ah, what foolish words you spoke before! You, in this single life, had a hundred varieties of worry and sorrow; being on the verge of annihilation in this single life, you found no joy in desires. How much more so for a śramaṇa who contemplates the three periods of time! When this single body dies and is destroyed, one receives yet another body, through hundreds of thousands of myriads of lives, body after body suffering pain and immeasurable afflictions. Even if reborn as a human, one runs errands for others, or is born into an impoverished family destitute of food and clothing. Reflecting on this bitterness, one leaves home to practice the Way, seeking the non-conditioned essentials for transcending the world. If one is not diligent, one will undergo again the suffering of countless kalpas." At that moment, the prince's mind was opened and his understanding cleared. He stepped forward and addressed the king: "Only now, hearing the king's instruction, have I awakened. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are truly to be reviled; grief, sorrow, pain, and afflictions circulate without cease. I only pray that the Great King will permit me to practice the Way and diligently cultivate it." The king told his brother: "Know that this is the proper time." The brother then took leave of the king to become a śramaṇa. Upholding the precepts and diligently striving day and night, he subsequently attained the fruit of arhatship, his six penetrations clear and transparent without hindrance.

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Furthermore, the Legend of King Aśoka states: When King Aśoka heard that his brother had attained the Way, his heart was filled with deep joy. He bowed his head in veneration and requested to provide for him long-term. Having grown weary of worldly suffering and taking no pleasure in the human realm, the brother vowed to rely on the forests and wilderness to nourish his remaining life. King Aśoka then had spirits and deities construct mountains and waters within his own city. The mountain was several tens of fathoms high, cutting off people so they could not come and go. In accordance with the king's decree, he collected donated clothing and resources to make a stone statue sixteen feet high, providing offerings to his brother right within the mountain niche and stone chamber. This mountain and statue both still exist today.

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Section 3: Dhūta Practices

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Now, the five desires, hindrances, and entanglements are all obstacles to dhyāna. Once one is able to eliminate them, the mind becomes serene and capable of cultivating the Way. Therefore, within this chapter, the twelve dhūta practices are fully explained; regarding having few desires and knowing contentment, nothing surpasses these. In the West it is called dhūta; here it is translated as 'shaking off'. Being able to practice this Dharma means one can shake off afflictions and depart from greedy attachment, just as shaking clothes can remove dust and dirt. Thus it takes its name from this metaphor and is called dhūta. Sūtras and treatises explain them separately, each speaking of twelve; taking general and specific together, there are sixteen in total. For instance, among clothing there are four; among food there are six; among dwelling places there are six; hence they total sixteen. The four for clothing are: first, wearing robes made of rags from a dust heap; second, wearing robes of coarse wool; third, wearing patched robes; fourth, possessing only the three robes. The six for food are: first, begging for food; second, begging for food in consecutive order; third, not eating subsequent food; fourth, eating in a single sitting; fifth, eating a measured amount of food, also called regulated eating; sixth, not drinking gruel after midday. The six for dwelling places are: first, dwelling in an araṇya; second, dwelling among tombs; third, dwelling under a tree; fourth, dwelling in the open air; fifth, constantly sitting; sixth, sitting wherever one finds oneself. From these sixteen, by hiding or revealing, separating or combining, twelve are spoken of. As for the four regarding clothing: according to the Four-Part Vinaya and the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra, they both speak only of two: first, wearing patched robes, and second, possessing the three robes, not discussing the other two. According to the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, three are spoken of for clothing: first, wearing robes made of rags from a dust heap; second, wearing robes of coarse wool; third, keeping the three robes, not discussing patched robes. For the six regarding food: the Nirvāṇa Sūtra speaks of three, namely begging for food, eating in a single sitting, and eating a measured amount of food. The reason it does not mention begging in consecutive order is that when one can beg for food according to the Dharma, there is necessarily a consecutive order, so it is not separately stated. As long as one can eat a measured amount in a single sitting, naturally one does not eat subsequent food or drink gruel after midday, so these are not separately stated. In the Four-Part Vinaya, four are spoken of for food: three are the same as above, with the addition of begging in consecutive order. In the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra, five are spoken of for food, not mentioning not eating subsequent food. For the six regarding dwelling places: according to the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra, five are spoken of, omitting sitting wherever one finds oneself. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra and the Vinaya both speak fully of six. Now, according to the various schools, there are sixteen in total.

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Furthermore, in the Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā-śāstra, the names and essences of the twelve dhūtas are slightly different: first, begging for food throughout one's life; second, dwelling in an araṇya; third, wearing rag robes; fourth, eating in a single sitting; fifth, always sitting; sixth, not taking untimely drinks after eating; seventh, possessing only three robes; eighth, [wearing] felt robes; ninth, sitting wherever a seat is spread; tenth, staying beneath trees; eleventh, staying in an open place; twelfth, staying among the dead. Begging for food throughout one's life, the first, has ten benefits: first, the livelihood that one relies on belongs to oneself and does not belong to others; second, when sentient beings give me food, I cause them to abide in the Three Jewels and only then do I eat; third, if anyone gives me food, a mind of compassion should arise, and [thinking,] 'I will make vigorous progress so as to cause them to abide well in giving,' having done so, I then eat; fourth, because it accords with the Buddha's teaching; fifth, it is easy to satisfy and easy to maintain; sixth, it is a practice that shatters arrogance; seventh, it has the root of goodness of seeing the peak; eighth, seeing me beg for food, others who cultivate good dharmas will also emulate me; ninth, one has no involvements with men, women, young or old; tenth, because of begging in sequence, an impartial mind arises toward sentient beings, which plants the auxiliary conditions for all-knowledge.

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Dwelling in an araṇya, the second, also has ten benefits: first, coming and going at will; second, having neither self nor what belongs to self; third, dwelling wherever one pleases without hindrance; fourth, the mind increasingly delights in practicing dwelling in an araṇya; fifth, the dwelling place involves few desires and few affairs; sixth, not sparing one's life in order to fully realize merit; seventh, because one stays far away from the clamorous speech of crowds; eighth, although practicing merit, not seeking recompense for favors; ninth, according with dhyāna concentration, making it easy to attain one-pointedness of mind; tenth, dwelling in an open place, making it easy to generate the thought of unobstructedness.

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Wearing rag robes, the third, also has ten benefits: first, not associating with householders on account of robes; second, not displaying the appearance of begging for robes on account of robes; third, nor speaking through expedients so as to display the appearance of acquiring robes; fourth, not seeking in the four directions on account of robes; fifth, if one does not obtain robes, not grieving; sixth, obtaining them, not rejoicing; seventh, cheap materials are easy to obtain and free from faults or harm; eighth, according with and practicing the four reliances initially received; ninth, falling into the category of coarse garments; tenth, not being coveted by people.

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Eating in a single sitting, the fourth, also has ten benefits: first, having no weariness or suffering of seeking a second [portion]; second, what is received is light and minimal; third, having no weariness or suffering regarding what is used; fourth, having no weariness or suffering prior to eating; fifth, entering into the subtle practice of the rules of eating; sixth, eating only after the food is digested; seventh, few problems to guard against; eighth, few illnesses; ninth, the physical body is light and nimble; tenth, the body experiences pleasure.

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Always sitting, the fifth, also has ten benefits: first, not craving bodily pleasure; second, not craving the pleasure of sleep; third, not craving the pleasure of bedding; fourth, free from the suffering of one's ribs touching the mat while lying down; fifth, not indulging bodily desires; sixth, easy to attain seated meditation; seventh, easy to read and recite scriptures; eighth, little sleep; ninth, the body is light and easy to rise; tenth, the mind that seeks bedding and robes becomes faint.

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Not taking untimely drinks after eating, the sixth, also has ten benefits: first, not eating much; second, not eating to excess; third, not craving fine flavors; fourth, having few desires to seek; fifth, few impediments and troubles; sixth, few illnesses; seventh, easy to satisfy; eighth, easy to maintain; ninth, knowing contentment; tenth, when sitting in meditation and reading scriptures, the body is not exhausted.

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Possessing only three robes, the seventh, also has ten benefits: first, free from the weariness and suffering of seeking and receiving beyond the three robes; second, free from the weariness and suffering of guarding them; third, few things are kept; fourth, only what is worn on the body is sufficient; fifth, subtle observance of the precepts; sixth, coming and going without burden; seventh, the physical body is light and nimble; eighth, according with dwelling in an araṇya; ninth, wherever one goes, having no regrets or attachments; tenth, according with the practice of the Way.

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Wearing felt robes, the eighth, also has ten benefits: first, belonging to the category of coarse clothing; second, having little to seek; third, one may sit as one pleases; fourth, one may lie down as one pleases; fifth, easy to wash; sixth, easy to dye; seventh, rarely damaged by insects; eighth, difficult to ruin; ninth, not accepting other robes further; tenth, not losing the pursuit of the Way.

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Sitting wherever [a seat is spread], the ninth, also has ten benefits: first, free from the weariness and suffering of seeking a fine monastery to reside in; second, free from the weariness and suffering of seeking fine bedding; third, not bothering the senior monks; fourth, not causing grief or distress to the junior monks; fifth, having few desires; sixth, having few affairs; seventh, using whatever is available; eighth, using little entails few tasks; ninth, not giving rise to causes and conditions for disputes; tenth, not usurping what is used by others.

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Sitting beneath trees, the tenth, also has ten benefits: first, free from the weariness and suffering of seeking rooms; second, free from the weariness and suffering of seeking bedding; third, free from the weariness and suffering of having attachments; fourth, free from the weariness and suffering of use and enjoyment; fifth, having no named designation of a place; sixth, having no disputes or quarrels; seventh, according with the four reliances; eighth, minimal, easily obtained, and without fault; ninth, according with the cultivation of the Way; tenth, free from the conduct of noisy crowds.

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Staying among the dead, the eleventh, also has ten benefits: first, constantly attaining the notion of impermanence; second, constantly attaining the notion of death; third, constantly attaining the notion of impurity; fourth, constantly attaining the notion that all worlds are not delightful; fifth, constantly attaining detachment from all beloved persons; sixth, constantly attaining a mind of compassion; seventh, staying far away from frivolity and teasing; eighth, the mind constantly feels revulsion; ninth, diligently practicing energetic vigor; tenth, able to eliminate terror and fear.

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Sitting in an open place, the twelfth, also has ten benefits: first, not seeking [shelter] beneath trees; second, staying far away from what belongs to oneself; third, free from disputes; fourth, if going elsewhere, having no regrets or attachments; fifth, little frivolity and teasing; sixth, able to endure wind, rain, cold, heat, mosquitoes, gnats, venomous insects, and the like; seventh, not pierced by the thorns of sound; eighth, not causing sentient beings to give rise to anger or resentment; ninth, oneself also has no sorrow or hatred; tenth, it is not a place for the conduct of noisy crowds.

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Furthermore, the Ratnarāśi-sūtra says: 'The Buddha told Kāśyapa: "If a monk wishes to go to an araṇya, he should reflect upon eight dharmas. What are the eight? First, I should renounce my body; second, I should renounce my life; third, I should renounce gain and sustenance; fourth, I should leave behind all delightful places; fifth, dying in the mountains, I should die like a deer; sixth, in an araṇya, I should adopt the conduct of an araṇya; seventh, I should sustain myself by the Dharma; eighth, I must not sustain myself by afflictions."'

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Section 4: Benefits

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As the Mahāratnakūṭa-sūtra says: 'When a bodhisattva cultivates concentration, there are further ten dharmas not shared with the two vehicles. What are the ten? First, cultivating concentration without notion of self or mine, because one is endowed with all the dhyāna concentrations of the Tathāgata; second, cultivating concentration without savoring or clinging to it, renouncing the defiled mind and not seeking one's own pleasure; third, cultivating concentration endowed with all supernormal activities, in order to know the mental actions of sentient beings; fourth, cultivating concentration in order to know the minds of the multitude, so as to deliver all sentient beings; fifth, cultivating concentration while practicing great compassion, so as to sever the knots of defilement of sentient beings; sixth, cultivating concentration in all dhyāna samādhis, skillfully knowing entry and exit and surpassing the tridhātu; seventh, cultivating concentration while constantly attaining mastery, because one is endowed with all good dharmas; eighth, cultivating concentration with a mind in tranquil cessation, surpassing all dhyāna samādhis of the two vehicles; ninth, cultivating concentration while constantly entering wisdom, transcending all mundane realms and reaching the other shore; tenth, cultivating concentration able to cause the saddharma to flourish, carrying on and magnifying the Three Jewels so that they are never interrupted. Such concentration is not shared with śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas.'

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Furthermore, the Ṣaṭpāramitā-saṃgraha-sūtra says: 'There are further four kinds of dhyāna concentration endowed with wisdom. What are the four? First, constantly delighting in solitude; second, constantly delighting in one-pointedness of mind; third, seeking dhyāna and supernormal powers; fourth, seeking the unimpeded wisdom of the Buddha.'

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Furthermore, the Candrapradīpa-samādhi-sūtra says: 'The Buddha said: "If a bodhisattva abides in quiet sitting, there are ten kinds of benefits. What are the ten? First, his mind is unturbid; second, he abides in non-negligence; third, all buddhas cherish him; fourth, he has faith in the practice of saṃbodhi; fifth, he has no doubts regarding the Buddha's wisdom; sixth, he recognizes benevolence; seventh, he does not slander the saddharma; eighth, he is well able to maintain prohibitions; ninth, he arrives at the ground of subduing [the passions]; tenth, he realizes the four unhindered knowledges."'

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Furthermore, the Buddha said: '"If a bodhisattva delights in wilderness and seclusion, there are ten kinds of benefits. What are the ten? First, lessening worldly affairs; second, staying far away from turmoil; third, free from discord and disputes; fourth, abiding in a place free from affliction; fifth, not increasing outpourings; sixth, not giving rise to lawsuits and quarrels; seventh, abiding peacefully in quietude; eighth, according with continuous liberation; ninth, quickly realizing liberation; tenth, exerting effort and attaining samādhi."'

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Furthermore, the Buddha said: '"If a bodhisattva is able to correspond with dhyāna, there are ten kinds of benefits. What are the ten? First, abiding peacefully in proper conduct; second, practicing in the sphere of loving-kindness; third, free from all remorse and burning anguish; fourth, guarding the senses; fifth, obtaining the joyful bliss of food; sixth, staying far away from desire; seventh, cultivating dhyāna not in vain; eighth, liberated from Māra's snare; ninth, abiding peacefully in the realm of the Buddha; tenth, liberation matures." Furthermore, the Buddha said: "If a bodhisattva delights in dhūta and begging for food, there are ten kinds of benefits. What are the ten? First, toppling the banner of arrogance; second, not seeking affection; third, not acting for fame; fourth, abiding in the noble lineage; fifth, not being flattering, deceitful, displaying unusual manners, or arrogant; sixth, not exalting oneself; seventh, not denigrating others; eighth, severing desire and malice; ninth, if entering the homes of people, not practicing the gift of Dharma for the sake of drink and food; tenth, when preaching the Dharma, it is believed and accepted by others."'

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Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra says: 'There are two kinds of samādhis: first, that of buddhas; second, that of bodhisattvas. These bodhisattvas attain mastery in the bodhisattva samādhis, but not in the Buddha's samādhis. As stated in the Sarvabuddhaviṣayāvatāra-sūtra, Mañjuśrī wished to see the gathering of buddhas, but was unable to reach it, and the buddhas each returned to their original places. When Mañjuśrī reached the place where the buddhas had gathered, there was a woman seated near that Buddha who had entered samādhi. Mañjuśrī went in and bowed to the Buddha's feet, and then addressed the Buddha, saying, "Why is this woman able to sit near the Buddha while I cannot?" The Buddha told Mañjuśrī, "Wake this woman and cause her to arise from samādhi, and ask her yourself." Mañjuśrī then snapped his fingers to awaken her, but she could not be awakened; he called out in a loud voice, but she could not be awakened; he grasped her hand and pulled, but she could not be awakened; furthermore, he used supernormal power to shake the great chiliocosm, yet still she did not awaken. Mañjuśrī addressed the Buddha, saying, "World-Honoured One, I cannot cause her to awaken." At that time, the Buddha emitted a great ray of light illuminating the worlds below. In their midst was a bodhisattva named Sarvanīvaraṇaviṣkambhin, who immediately emerged from the lower direction and came to where the Buddha was. He bowed with his head to the Buddha's feet and stood to one side. The Buddha told Bodhisattva Sarvanīvaraṇaviṣkambhin, "Wake this woman." He immediately snapped his fingers, and this woman arose from samādhi. Mañjuśrī addressed the Buddha: "For what reason was I unable to make this woman arise though I shook the three-thousand-great-thousandfold world, whereas Bodhisattva Sarvanīvaraṇaviṣkambhin caused her to arise from samādhi with a single snap of his fingers?" The Buddha told Mañjuśrī: "You initially generated the intention for bodhi because of this woman; and this woman initially generated the intention for bodhi because of Bodhisattva Sarvanīvaraṇaviṣkambhin. For this reason, you could not cause her to awaken. Your merit in the samādhis of the buddhas is not yet complete. This Bodhisattva Sarvanīvaraṇaviṣkambhin has attained mastery in samādhi. You have only just begun to enter somewhat into the Buddha's samādhis and have not yet attained mastery, and that is why."'

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Section 5: Dhyāna Concentration

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As the Chan miyao jing says: 'A monk in an araṇya goes mad on account of five things: first, on account of disruptive sounds; second, on account of ill fame; third, on account of gain and sustenance; fourth, on account of external wind; fifth, on account of internal wind. At that time, the World-Honoured One uttered an incantation, saying:'

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Then, having spoken this dhāraṇī, the World-Honoured One addressed Śāriputra: "This divine dhāraṇī was spoken by immeasurable Buddhas of the past. I too speak this dhāraṇī now in the present. In the future, the bodhisattva Maitreya of the Bhadrakalpa will also proclaim it. The merit of such a divine dhāraṇī is like [that of] the Lord of the Devas. It can cause all evil monks in the final five hundred years to attain pure minds and intentions, and harmoniously and successfully cure increases and decreases of the four great elements. It also cures within the mind the ninety-eight proclivities, the seeds of sexual desire, that arise from the four hundred and four ailments and four hundred and four vessels and destroy the realms. It also cures karmic hindrances and all evils of breaking the precepts, extinguishing them forever without remainder. This is called the 'Dhāraṇī That Well Cures the Seventy-two Kinds of Ailments, Worries, and Afflictions'. It is also called the 'Dhāraṇī That Uproots the Root of Ignorance in the Five Aggregates'. It is also called 'Directly Seeing All Buddhas and Śrāvakas Expounding the True Dharma to Destroy the Proclivities of All Dharmas'."

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Sympathetic Resonance Accounts (briefly citing six verifications):

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The Jin dynasty śramaṇa Zhi Tanlan
The Song dynasty śramaṇa Shi Xuangao
The Song dynasty śramaṇa Shi Puchang
The Qi dynasty śramaṇa Shi Sengchou
The Sui dynasty śramaṇa Shi Fajin
The Tang dynasty śramaṇa Shi Huirong

84.40

In the Jin dynasty, on Mount Chicheng in Shifeng, there was Zhi Tanlan. He was a native of Qingzhou. He ate a vegetarian diet, delighted in dhyāna, and chanted three hundred thousand words [of scripture]. During the Taiyuan reign of the Jin, he travelled through Shan. Later he rested at Mount Chicheng in Shifeng, and seeing a place where the woods and springs were pure and open, he settled there. After several days, he suddenly saw a man several zhang tall, who called out to Tanlan ordering him to leave. He also saw various strange beasts to frighten Tanlan. Seeing Tanlan serene and self-possessed, [the spirit] then bent his knees and bowed, saying: "King Zhuqi is my maternal uncle. He has ordered me to go to Mount Weixiang to join him, and I yield this place to offer it to you." Three years later, [Tanlan] suddenly heard the rumbling of carriages and cavalry, with retinues filling the peaks. Presently someone wearing a turban announced the arrival of King Zhuqi. He stepped forward with twenty-three wives, concubines, sons, and daughters, all of whose forms and countenances were dignified and handsome, surpassing those of the world. Having reached Tanlan's dwelling and exchanged greetings, Tanlan asked where he lived. He replied: "Mount Weixiang in Le'an County. I have long admired your repute. Now together with my household I look up to you and seek refuge, begging to receive the refuges and precepts." Tanlan immediately conferred them. When the reception of the Dharma was finished, [the king] offered ten thousand cash and two vessels of honey as a gift, took his leave, and departed. Then was heard the sounding of pipes and blowing of horns, the noise shaking the valleys. Tanlan and more than ten fellow meditators all heard and saw it together. In the Yuanxi era of the Jin, he passed away in his mountain chamber at the age of eighty-three.

84.41

In the Song dynasty, in Pingcheng under the illegitimate Wei, there was Shi Xuangao. His surname was Wei, and his original name was Lingyu. He was a native of Wannian in Pingyi. His mother, Lady Guan, originally believed in non-Buddhist paths. When she first married into the Wei family, she first conceived a daughter, who was Gao's elder sister. From birth, she had faith in the Buddha, and so she prayed for her mother, wishing that their household would have no divergent views and be able to serve the Great Dharma. In the third year of the Hongshi era of the illegitimate Qin, the mother dreamed of a foreign monk scattering flowers that filled the room. Upon waking, she became aware of her pregnancy. On the eighth day of the second month of the fourth year, she gave birth to a son. Inside the house there was suddenly a wondrous fragrance and bright light illuminating the walls, which ceased only at dawn. Because of the auspicious omens at her son's birth, the mother named him Lingyu. People of the time respected him and also called him Shigao. At the age of twelve, he took leave of his parents to enter the mountains, but for a long time they did not consent. On another day, a scholar lodged at Gao's house and said he wished to retreat into Mount Zhongchang. His parents then entrusted Gao to him. That evening, all saw the villagers seeing him off together. The next morning, the villagers all came to inquire after Gao. His parents said, "Yesterday you already saw him off; are you looking for him again today?" The villagers said, "We knew nothing of his departure; how could we have seen him off?" The parents then realised that those who had welcomed and seen him off yesterday were divine beings. Having turned his back on worldly life, Gao changed his name to Xuangao. Naturally intelligent and possessing innate knowledge, his learning required no laborious thought. By the age of fifteen, he was already preaching the Dharma for mountain monks. After receiving full ordination, he devoted himself solely to dhyāna and vinaya. Hearing that Dhyāna Master Buddhabhadra was propagating the Dharma at Shiyang Temple in the Guanzhong region, Gao went to study under him. Within ten days, he profoundly mastered the methods of dhyāna. Buddhabhadra sighed in admiration: "Excellent, Son of the Buddha! That you can attain such deep awakening!" Thereupon, with humble countenance and deference, he would not accept the etiquette due to a master. Gao then set off with his staff for Western Qin and lived in seclusion at the Maiji Cliff. He had a hundred disciples, who revered his instructions on meaning and received his path of dhyāna. At that time, there was a śramaṇa from Chang'an named Shi Tanhong, a senior disciple of the Qin region, who lived in seclusion on this mountain and met Gao; they became companions in the same practice. At this time, Qifu Chipan held sway over Longxi, bordering the Liang region to the west. [Gao] constantly had more than three hundred disciples. There was one Xuanshao, a native of Longxi in Qinzhou, who had thoroughly mastered all dhyānas and possessed unhindered supernatural powers. Water flowed from his fingers for Gao to wash his face and rinse his mouth; the water was twice as fragrant and pure as ordinary water. He frequently obtained unworldly flowers and incense to offer to the Three Jewels. There were eleven others who were as miraculously gifted as Shao. Shao later entered Mount Tangshu and passed away like a cicada shedding its shell. Later, together with Tanhong, Gao went to Henan. The king and his ministers and people waited on the nearby road to welcome him, respectfully venerating him both within and without the court as National Preceptor. Having completed his conversion of Henan, he travelled on to the Liang region. Juqu Mengxun revered and served him deeply, gathering distinguished guests to elicit Gao's superior understanding. At that time, in Xihai there was Fan Sengyin, who also received instruction from Gao. Narrow in aspiration and small in capacity, he was content with little gain, and claimed that he had already attained arhatship and suddenly exhausted all doors of dhyāna. Gao then secretly used supernatural power to cause Yin, while in samādhi, to fully see the different Dharma doors preached by all the Buddhas of the limitless worlds in the ten directions. Throughout one summer, Yin investigated what he had seen and could never exhaust it; only then did he realise that the waters of samādhi are bottomless, and he was greatly filled with shame and fear. At that time, the Wei captive Tuoba Tao illegitimately occupied Pingcheng and sent troops to invade the Liang borders. Tao's maternal uncle, the Prince of Yangping, insistently requested Gao to return with him to the illegitimate capital. Having reached Pingcheng, he widely spread the transformation of the Dharma. The illegitimate Crown Prince Tuoba Huang served Gao as his master. At one point, Huang was slandered and suspected by his father. He told Gao, "Falsely caught in unjust suffering, by what means can I be liberated?" Gao had him perform the Golden Light fast and penitence for seven days with earnest repentance. Tao then dreamed of his grandfather and father, both holding swords with fierce majesty, asking, "Why do you believe slanderous words and unjustly suspect the Crown Prince?" Tao awoke in shock, assembled his ministers, and recounted the divine announcement given in his dream. The ministers all said, "The Crown Prince has committed no fault; it is truly as the imperial ancestral spirits have proclaimed." Tao had no further suspicion of the Crown Prince. This was indeed the power of Gao's sincere resonance. At that time, Cui Hao and Celestial Master Kou [Qianzhi] had both previously gained Tao's favour. Fearing that on the day Huang seized power through usurpation or regicide he would strip them of their authority, they slandered him, saying: "The Crown Prince truly had treacherous intentions in the earlier affair; he merely allied with Master Gao's esoteric arts to cause the late emperors to appear in your dream like this. Public opinion and traces of the deed are gradually taking shape; if he is not executed, it will surely lead to great calamity." Tao accepted this, flew into a rage, and immediately ordered Gao arrested. Gao had previously told his disciples in secret: "The Buddhadharma is destined to decline. Master Chong and I shall be the primary victims of this disaster." At that time, none of those who heard it were not moved with grief. There was then a śramaṇa from Liangzhou named Shi Huichong, who was the personal teacher of the illegitimate Wei's Minister Han Wande. Since his virtue was second only to Gao's, he was also suspected and obstructed. In the ninth month of the fifth year of the illegitimate Taiping era, Gao and Master Chong were both imprisoned. On the fifteenth day of that month, he met disaster and died in the eastern corner of Pingcheng at the age of forty-three. This was the twenty-first year of the Yuanjia era of the Song. On that night, his disciples knew nothing of it. At the third watch of the night, light was suddenly seen circling the pagoda of Gao's former dwelling three times, and then entering his dhyāna cave. Then from within the light a voice was heard saying, "I have already passed away." Only then did the disciples know he had transformed, and they wailed with grief, overwhelmed with sorrow. Afterwards, they retrieved his body from the open wilderness south of the city, bathed it, and conducted the funeral, while also managing Master Chong's [funeral] separately in another place. Throughout the capital, monastics and laypeople alike sighed in shock. His disciple Xuanchang was at that time in Yunzhong, six hundred li from the Wei capital. At dawn, a man suddenly appeared and told him of the disaster, providing him with a horse capable of travelling six hundred li. Thereupon, whipping the horse, he returned. Arriving at the capital in the evening, he saw that his master had already passed away and was heartbroken with grief. Weeping together with his fellow students, he said: "Now that the Dharma has perished, will it ever rise again? If it is to rise again, we beg our Preceptor to sit up. Our Preceptor's virtue is not that of an ordinary person; he will surely illuminate this!" When he finished speaking, Gao's eyes opened slightly, his radiant colour returned to joy, and his whole body was fragrant with perspiration. In a moment he sat up and told his disciples: "The great Dharma responds and transforms, flourishing and declining according to conditions. Flourishing and declining pertain to phenomenal traces, whereas the Principle is ever tranquil. I only sorrow that you will soon be like me. Only Xuanchang will be able to cross south. After you die, the Dharma will rise again. Cultivate your minds well, and do not let yourselves feel regret midway." Having spoken, he lay down and immediately expired. The next morning, when they moved the coffin wishing to cremate it, the state regulations forbade it. They thereupon set up a temporary site and buried him. Monastics and laypeople wept in deep sorrow, their grief unbounded. There was a śramaṇa named Fada, who was the Controller of Monks of the illegitimate state. He had long admired Gao but had not yet received his instruction. Suddenly hearing of his demise, he wept and said: "The sage has departed from this world; whom can we now rely on?" He did not eat for several days, constantly crying out: "The sage Gao is sovereign; how could he not manifest even once?" In response to his voice, he saw Gao flying through the air. Fada prostrated and begged for pity, wishing to be saved. Gao said: "Your karmic hindrance is heavy and difficult to save; what can be done? From now on, repent with hardship according to the Vaipulya teachings, and you will receive a lighter retribution." Fada said: "If I suffer painful retribution, may you pity and save me." Gao said: "I do not forget all beings, how could it be you alone?" Fada also asked: "Where were you and Master Chong reborn?" Gao said: "I vowed to be reborn in an evil world to save and protect sentient beings, so I have already returned to Jambudvīpa. Master Chong constantly prayed for Sukhāvatī, and his wish has already been fulfilled." Fada asked again: "I do not know what stage the Dharma Master has reached?" Gao said: "Among my disciples, there are those who know." When he finished speaking, he suddenly disappeared. Fada secretly inquired of Gao's disciples, who all said: "He is a bodhisattva who has attained the forbearance (kṣānti)." In the seventh year of the illegitimate Taiping era, Tuoba Tao indeed destroyed the Buddhadharma, exactly as Gao had said.

84.42

In the Song dynasty, at Anle Temple in Shu, there was Shi Pucheng. His surname was Guo, and he was a native of Chengdu in Shu Commandery. When he was a child, he once saw a holy monk in the sunlight preaching the Dharma in the clouds. He recounted this to his family, but none believed his words. Later, he earnestly sought to leave household life, residing at Anle Temple under the provincial seat. He lived alone in a single room without keeping disciples, practicing peaceful dhyāna, and was skilled in entering, abiding in, and emerging from it. He shared the same intentions with Vinaya Master Tao of Shu. He spoke of himself as entering the samādhi of fiery radiance, the light proceeding straight down from between his eyebrows to the vajra base, and within the light seeing various forms and images, with the karmic retributions of his past lives being quite clear. People in the Shengming era of the Song thought this was jest. When his end approached, he showed slight signs of illness; only a servant from a relative's household attended to him. The next morning, he passed away sitting upright, with three fingers bent. When [the servant] tried to straighten them, they followed the pull and extended, but once extended they bent back again. During his life his body was dark, but after death it became fresh and white. Thereupon the assembly cremated him in accordance with the rites for those who have attained the Way. Just as the firewood began to burn, five-coloured smoke arose, exuding a distinct, rich fragrance. The regional commander Wang Xuanzai composed a eulogy for him, saying:

84.43

"The Great Awakened is vast, without image; / To respond from afar, valuing tranquility through forgetting. / In a single thought one meets at the bodhimaṇḍa, / Emptying the passage of ten thousand kalpas forever. / Faith empties thoughts of the east; / Encountering the sage purifies the forms of the west. / The wondrous realm purifies the tridhātu; / Transmitting the spirit into the spheres of the four dhyānas. / Worldly things are by nature disordered; / But the Principle of the true nature is ever radiant. / Concealing his light and lodging in the floating world, / His remaining virtue now transforms the distant realm."

84.44

Shi Sengchou of Yunmen Temple on Mount Long, west of Ye under the Qi dynasty, had the secular surname Sun. Originally from Changli, his family later dwelt in Yintao of Julu. By disposition he was fond of pure virtue, and he was known for filial piety and trustworthiness. Furthermore, he diligently studied the secular classics, fully mastering the canonical works and histories. Yet his spiritual capacity was secretly stirred, and he suddenly grew weary of worldly vexations. With one reading of the Buddhist scriptures, he understood their meaning with fluid brilliance. At first, he received and practiced śamatha-vipaśyanā under Dhyāna Master Daofang. Next, at the site of Dhyāna Master Daoming on Mount Zhanghong in Zhaozhou, he received the method of the sixteen special attainments. Once, while at a quiet spot on Mount Que, a spirit came to harass him, clutching his shoulders, striking him in the waist, and blowing its breath upon his neck. Chou steeled his heart [even at the cost of] death, and thereby realized deep samādhi; for nine days he did not rise. Later, awakening from samādhi, his thoughts were clear and serene; examining the world in general, he found it completely devoid of joy. He then proceeded to Shaolin Temple to present what he had attained to the ancestral teacher, the Tripiṭaka [master]. Bhadra said: 'From the Congling Mountains eastward, you are the foremost in dhyāna learning.' Thereupon he further transmitted the profound essentials [to him]. Then he stayed at Songyue Temple. There were a hundred monks, and the spring water was barely sufficient. Suddenly, a woman in tattered clothing was seen holding a broom, sitting backward on the steps and listening to the monks recite the scriptures. The assembly did not discern that she was a spirit, and so scolded and dismissed her. With an angry look on her face, the woman stamped her foot on the spring, which dried up at once; her body also ceased to appear. The assembly reported this to Chou. Chou called out 'Upāsikā!' and after three calls she emerged. He then said to the spirit: 'The assembly of monks is practicing the Way; you ought to offer protection.' The woman touched the former spring with her foot, and the water immediately surged upward. At that time, everyone was deeply amazed by such awesome deportment. Later he went to Mount Wangwu in the west of Huai Prefecture to cultivate the former method. Hearing two tigers fighting with each other, their roaring shaking the crags, he parted them with his tin staff, and they each scattered and left. Once, there were suddenly two fascicles of immortal scriptures on his bed. Chou said: 'I originally cultivate the Buddha's path; how could I be bound by the seekers of long life in this realm?' In an instant, they disappeared of themselves. His resonance with both the unseen and visible realms was consistently like this. He further moved to Mount Matou in Huai Prefecture. Emperor Xiaoming of the Wei, having long heard of his fine virtue, summoned him three times, but he firmly declined and did not go. He moved further north to Changshan. Lou Rui, the regional inspector of Dingzhou, Gao You, the Prince of Pengcheng, and others invited him to come and transmit the Dharma. Monastics and laity rushed to him, and ceremonial gifts filled the place. To those bound by fame and gain, he spoke gāthās to halt them, and all became frugal and plain. In the second year of the Tianbao reign, Emperor Wenxuan of the Qi issued an edict, stating:

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