法苑珠林 84.6

84.6

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.