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Translation of 坐禪三昧經
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Contents
Text
1.1
Translated by Kumārajīva, Tripiṭaka Master of the Later Qin.
1.2
The Guide’s preaching is hard to encounter, / and those who hear it and rejoice are also rare; / what the great person delights to hear, / the petty person loathes to hear. / Sentient beings are truly pitiable, / falling onto the perilous path of aging and death; / slaves to affection and worldly folk, / dwelling in fearful places yet not afraid through folly. / Whether the worlds be great or small, / in phenomena there is nothing permanent; / not one abides for long, / appearing briefly like a flash of lightning. / This body belongs to aging and death, / the refuge to which all sicknesses flock; / a thin skin covering impurity, / the foolish and deluded are cheated by it. / You are constantly devoured by the thief of old age, / which swallows up your vigorous, flourishing form; / like a withered flower garland, / ruined and broken, of no worth at all. / Through King Māndhātṛ's merit, / he sat together with Śakra, King of the Gods; / his recompense and great fortune were vastly abundant, / yet where are they all today? / Among gods and humans, this king / was supreme in having every sensual pleasure; / yet when dying he suffered extreme agony; / through this one may awaken one's mind. / All sensual desires are pleasant and soft at first, / but in the end they all become great suffering; / just as an enemy seems kind at first, / but the disaster of wiping out one's clan comes afterward. / This body is a vessel of filth, / its nine apertures constantly flowing with foulness; / it is also like a nārī-ulcer, / utterly beyond the cure of medicine. / The chariot of bones has very little strength, / driven as sinews and veins entangle consciousness; / you take it to be a wonderful vehicle, / tolerating and clinging to it without shame. / Where the dead are gathered, / the graves are filled with abandoned bodies; / what was cherished and guarded in life / is completely cast away at death. / One should constantly be mindful like this, / single-mindedly contemplating without distraction; / destroying the dark blindness of foolish inversion, / holding a torch to contemplate clearly. / If one abandons the four applications of mindfulness, / there is no evil the mind will not commit; / like an elephant running wild without a hook, / it will never follow the path of taming. / Today attending to this business, / tomorrow creating that affair; / delighting and clinging without contemplating suffering, / unaware that the thief of death has arrived. / Hurriedly occupied with one's own affairs, / yet never having leisure from other matters; / the thief of death does not wait for time; / when it arrives, there is no condition for escape. / Like a thirsty deer rushing to a spring, / turning toward the water having already drunk, / the hunter has no kindness or mercy, / not letting it finish drinking before he kills it. / A foolish person is also like this, / diligently cultivating all kinds of affairs; / death arrives without waiting for time; / who then will protect you? / Human minds hope for wealth and honor, / their craving for the five sensual pleasures never sated; / even all the great kings / cannot escape this peril. / Rṣis wielding mantra-empowered arrows / likewise cannot escape death and birth; / trampled by the great elephant of impermanence, / an anthill and the flat ground become the same. / Set aside all [ordinary] people; / the Buddhas, the Rightly and Truly Awakened, / having crossed over the stream of saṃsāra, / likewise do not remain forever. / Therefore one should know / that all one loves and delights in / should quickly be abandoned and left behind, / single-mindedly seeking nirvāṇa. / Later, when giving up this body at death, / who will bear witness to whether I / shall encounter the jewel of the Dharma again, / or whether I shall fail to encounter it? / Only once in a long time does the sun of the Buddha arise, / destroying the great darkness of ignorance; / by emitting all kinds of radiant light, / showing people the path and the non-path. / From where have I come? / From what place was I born? / Where shall I attain liberation? / Who will clarify these doubts? / The Buddha, the Sage of All-Knowledge, / appears in the world only after long ages; / with a single mind do not be negligent, / for he can shatter your knot of doubts. / Those [fools] do not delight in true benefit, / but love clinging to wretched, evil thoughts; / you are an elder among sentient beings, / and should seek the true mark of dharmas. / Who can know at the time of death / what path one will go toward? / It is just like a lamp in the wind, / of which the time of extinction is unknown. / The Dharma of the ultimate path is not difficult; / the Great Sage explained it pointing to actual things: / he taught wisdom and the basis of wisdom; / these two do not rely on anything external. / If you are not negligent, / and constantly practice the Way with a single mind, / you will before long attain nirvāṇa, / the foremost place of eternal bliss. / With sharp wisdom, draw near to good people; / revere the Buddha's Dharma with all your heart; / detest the foul, impure body; / leave suffering behind and attain liberation. / In quietude, cultivate a tranquil resolve, / sitting cross-legged in the forest; / guarding the mind without negligence, / awakening the intellect to perceive all conditions. / If one does not weary of existence, / but sleeps peacefully without self-awakening, / not mindful that the world is impermanent, / one does not fear what is truly fearful. / Afflictions are fathomless, / and the ocean of saṃsāra is boundless; / the raft to cross over suffering has not yet been prepared; / how can you find pleasure in sleeping? / Therefore, one should awaken, / and not let sleep cover the mind. / Among the four requisites, / know moderation and know contentment; / having not yet escaped the great terrors, / one should apply diligent vigor; / when all kinds of suffering arrive, / regret and remorse will be of no avail. / Sitting under a tree in patched robes, / eating as one ought to receive; / do not, out of craving for flavors, / bring about your own ruin. / Once food has passed the place of tasting, / good and bad are not different at all; / love and fondness give rise to sorrow and suffering; / therefore, do not generate craving. / In the world of karma and actions, / there is nothing good or bad that has not been experienced; / having fully undergone everything already, / one should restrain oneself through this. / If born among beasts, / slobber and grass are considered full delicacies; / in the hells, one swallows iron pellets, / burning hot, fiercer than bursting iron. / If born among the pretas, / pus, vomit, blazing feces, and dung, / snot, spittle, and all kinds of filth / are taken to be the supreme delicacies. / If in the heavenly palaces, / amid palaces and towers of the seven treasures, / one eats the heavenly sudhā flavor, / and heavenly maidens delight the mind. / In the honored positions among humans, / seven delicacies provide all kinds of flavors; / having previously experienced all of them, / why love them again now? / Wandering back and forth through the world, / one tires of experiencing both suffering and joy; / though one has not yet attained nirvāṇa, / one should diligently seek this benefit.
1.3
When a student of meditation first arrives at the master's place, the master should ask him: "Is your keeping of the precepts pure? Are you free from grave offenses and evil views?" If he says: "The precepts of the five assemblies are pure, and I have no grave offenses or evil views," the master then teaches the path and Dharma. If he says: "I have broken the precepts," the master should question him further: "Which precepts have you broken?" If he says: "The grave precepts," the master says: "Just as a person whose ears and nose have been cut off has no need to look in a mirror, you should go back for now, diligently chant the sūtras, and exhort and convert others to create merit; you may plant causes and conditions for the path and Dharma in future lives, but in this life you are abandoned forever. It is like a withered tree: though it be watered, it will not grow flowers, leaves, or fruit." If he has broken other precepts, he should then be taught to repent in accordance with the Dharma. If he is already pure, then if the master has attained the divine eye and the knowledge of the minds of others, he teaches the method for approaching the path according to his illness. If the master has not yet attained supernormal knowledges, he should observe his characteristics or question him: "Among the three poisons, which is predominant? Do you have much lust, much anger, or much folly?"
1.4
How does one observe characteristics? The characteristics of one with much lust: as a person, he is nimble and agile, keeps many wives and concubines, speaks much, is gullible, has a gentle and cheerful complexion, speaks with ease, has little wrath or hatred, and also has little grief or sorrow. He is skilled in many crafts and arts, is fond of learning and widely knowledgeable, is fond of verse and poetry, is good at conversing, can perceive human feelings, yet has many fears. His mind is on the bedchamber; he likes wearing thin clothes, thirsts for female beauty, is attached to bedding, adornments, perfumes, and flowers; his mind is very soft, and he is capable of pity; his speech is pleasant; he likes to cultivate meritorious deeds and delights in being born in heaven; he has no difficulty being among the crowd. He discriminates between the attractive and ugly; he trusts women; the fire of lust blazes brightly in him; his mind has much regret and instability; he likes to adorn himself and loves viewing colorful paintings; he is stingy with his own possessions, yet covets others' wealth; he likes to make friends and dislikes being alone. He is attached to his dwelling, conforms to worldly customs, is easily startled and frightened, his mind like a monkey; his view is shallow and nearsighted; he acts without forethought, flippantly forgets what he has done, seeks whatever gives momentary pleasure, and is prone to weeping and crying. His body is delicate and soft, unable to bear cold and hardship; he is easily offended and easily pleased, unable to endure difficulties; he feels great joy over small gains, and great sorrow over small losses; he discloses what is hidden. His body is warm and his sweat smells bad; he has thin skin and fine hair, with many wrinkles and white hairs; he trims his nails and grooms his beard; he has white teeth, walks swiftly, and likes clean clothes. In study he is not single-minded; he loves to stroll in forests and parks; he is full of sentiment and full of demands; his mind clings to eternalism. He draws near to the virtuous, greets others with advance courtesy, readily adopts others' words, puts on a bold face to endure humiliation, understands quickly upon hearing matters, discriminates good from bad in the affairs he undertakes, pities those in hardship and distress, is proud and loves to win, will not tolerate being slighted, likes to practice giving, welcomes good people, shares delicious food and drink with others when he gets it, does not dwell on petty immediate matters, has his ambitions on the great and distant, but his eyes are fixed on visual forms and desires, his undertakings are not brought to completion, and he lacks farsighted planning. He knows the ways and customs of the world, observes facial expressions, anticipates people's thoughts, speaks pleasantly with eloquence and wisdom, yet does not form firm friendships; his hair is thin and sparse; he sleeps little; and whether sitting, lying, walking, or standing, he does not lose proper deportment. With whatever wealth he has, he quickly comes to the rescue in emergencies, but soon afterwards regrets and begrudges it; he grasps meanings rapidly, but soon tends to forget them. He is sparing in his movements, difficult to reform, finds it hard to attain detachment from desire, but his sinful acts are slight. Such various marks are the characteristics of lust.
1.5
The characteristics of a person of anger: he is given to much worry and distress, is abrupt and harboring resentment; his physical and verbal actions are coarse and harsh; he can endure many hardships; he finds fault with everything; he has much sorrow and little joy; he can commit great evil; he has no compassionate heart; he delights in fighting and litigation. His facial appearance is worn and haggard; he frowns and squints; he is difficult to speak with and difficult to please, difficult to serve and hard to satisfy. His mind is like a sore; he exposes others' shortcomings to their faces; his debates on doctrine are aggressive and stubborn, impossible to subdue, hard to sway, hard to become close to, and hard to thwart; he harbors venom that is hard to spit out. He retains what he receives and recites without losing it; he has many abilities and much skill; his mind is not lazy; he accomplishes tasks quickly; he keeps his hopes to himself and does not speak of them; his mind is deep and difficult to know. When he receives a favor, he is able to repay it; he is able to gather a crowd; he personally serves others, and cannot be thwarted or defeated; he carries affairs through to completion; he is hard to disturb; he has few fears or difficulties, like a lion, impossible to bend or subdue; he heads straight forward without turning back, acting and advancing directly. He is mindful and does not forget; he engages in much thought and reflection; he recites, studies, and retains; he can give much; he is not turned aside by small gains; as a teacher, he has sharp faculties. He is free from desire and dwells alone; he has little lust; his mind constantly harbors the desire to excel; he clings to annihilationism; his eyes constantly look with malice. His speech is truthful, and his explanations of matters are distinct and clear; he has few friends; he is firm and persistent in his endeavors; his memory is solid and unfailing; he has much muscular strength, with broad shoulders and chest, a wide forehead, and even hair. His mind is firm and hard to subdue; he learns quickly and is hard to make forget; he can detach himself from desire on his own, but is prone to committing grave offenses. Such various marks are the characteristics of anger.
1.6
The characteristics of a foolish person: he has much doubt and much regret; he is lazy and lacks discernment; he is self-satisfied and hard to bend; he is arrogant and hard to instruct; what is trustworthy he does not believe, and what is not trustworthy he believes. He knows no respect; he puts faith everywhere; he has many teachers and is flippant; he has no shame and behaves rashly; he acts without forethought; he contradicts teachings and is muddled and contrary. He does not choose his friends; he does not groom himself; he loves taking heterodox paths as his teacher; he does not distinguish good from evil; he learns with difficulty and forgets easily; he has dull faculties and is indolent. He scolds and slanders the practice of giving; his mind has no pity; he destroys the bridge of the Dharma; he is confused in everything he encounters; he glares without looking properly; he has no wisdom or skill; he seeks much with craving; he has much doubt and little faith. He detests good people; he undermines the retributions of sin and merit; he does not distinguish good words; he cannot understand his faults; he does not accept admonitions; he alienates relatives and is hated by enemies; he knows no manners; he likes to speak harsh words. His beard, hair, and nails are long; his teeth and clothes have much dirt; he is ordered about by others; he is not afraid of fearful things, worries where there is joy, rejoices where there is sorrow, laughs when it is sad, and grieves when it is joyful; he follows only when pulled along; he can endure painful tasks; he does not distinguish different tastes; it is hard for him to attain detachment from desire; and the offenses he commits are grave and heavy. Such various marks are the characteristics of folly.
1.7
If a person has much lust, the Dharma gate of impurity cures it; if a person has much anger, the Dharma gate of loving-kindness cures it; if a person has much folly, the Dharma gate of contemplating causes and conditions through reflection cures it; if a person has much conceptual thinking, the Dharma gate of mindfulness of breathing cures it; if a person has equal shares [of the three poisons], the Dharma gate of mindfulness of the Buddha cures it. Such various illnesses as these are cured by various Dharma gates.
1.8
The First Dharma-Door: Remedying Greed and Lust
1.9
Those with an excess of lust should practice the contemplation of impurity. From the feet to the hair, it is filled with impurity: hair of the head, hair of the body, nails, teeth, epidermis, dermis, blood, flesh, sinews, vessels, bone marrow, liver, lungs, heart, spleen, kidneys, stomach, large intestine, small intestine, feces, urine, snot, spittle, sweat, tears, grime, pus, brain, bladder, bile, serum, subcutaneous fat, and cranial membranes. Within the body there are various impurities such as these. Furthermore, regarding the contemplation of impurity: one contemplates the bluish-bruised, the bloated and distended, the ruptured and bleeding, smeared with foul pus, incompletely devoured [by beasts], scattered bones, and charred ashes. This is called the contemplation of impurity.
1.10
Furthermore, a person with much lust has seven kinds of attachment: attachment to fine coloring, attachment to attractive form, attachment to deportment, attachment to voice, attachment to smoothness, attachment to sentient beings, or attachment to all of them. If one is attached to fine coloring, one should practice the method of contemplating bluish bruises, and the same applies to yellow, red, and other impure colors. If one is attached to attractive form, one should practice the method of contemplating bloating, distention, and the scattering of the body. If one is attached to deportment, one should practice the method of contemplating the newly dead, with blood flowing and bones smeared. If one is attached to voice, one should practice the method of contemplating the throat blocked and life terminated. If one is attached to smoothness, one should practice the method of contemplating the sight of bones and the disease of desiccation. If one is attached to sentient beings, one should practice the six kinds of contemplation. If one is attached to all of them, one contemplates all universally, or at times performs various other alternative contemplations. This is called the contemplation of impurity.
1.11
Question: "If the body is impure like a foul, rotting corpse, from what does attachment arise?"
1.12
If one is attached to a pure body, one should also be attached to a foul, rotting body; if one is not attached to a foul body, one should likewise not be attached to a pure body, because the two bodies are equal. If one seeks the reality of both, purity is equally unobtainable in either. The minds of humans are mad and confused, covered over by inverted views, taking the impure to be pure. If the inverted mind is broken, one then attains the contemplation of the true mark of dharmas, and realizes that impurity is deceptive and unreal. Furthermore, a dead corpse is without fire, without life, without consciousness, and without the sense faculties; knowing this clearly, human minds do not give rise to attachment to it. Because [a living] body has warmth, has life, has consciousness, and has complete sense faculties, the mind becomes inverted, confused, and attached. Furthermore, when the mind is attached to bodily form, it deems it pure; once the mind of attachment ceases, it realizes it is impure. If it were truly pure, it ought to be permanently pure, but now that is not so. Just as a dog eating feces considers it pure, but viewed by humans it is extremely impure, so too within and outside this body there is not a single pure spot. If one is attached to the exterior of the body: taking the thin outer skin from the entire body, it barely amounts to the size of a crabapple, and that too is impure—how much more so the thirty-six substances inside the body! Furthermore, examining the causes and conditions of the body, they are impure in many ways: it is formed from the impure union of the parents' semen and blood; once it has become a body, it constantly discharges impurities; clothing, bedding, and mats also become foul and impure—how much more so at the place of death! By this one should know that within saṃsāra, inside and out, all is impure. (From here below in the sūtra text to the beginning of the second door.)
1.13
Furthermore, contemplation also has three grades: beginning practitioners, those who have already practiced, and those who have long practiced. If one is a beginning practitioner, one should be instructed to form the perception of broken skin, remove the impurities, and contemplate a red-skeleted person, binding the attention to the contemplation practice and not letting thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather the thoughts and bring them back. If one has already practiced, one should be instructed to imagine removing the skin and flesh and fully contemplate the skull, not letting thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather the thoughts and bring them back. If one has long practiced, one should be instructed to mentally remove the skin and flesh for one inch within the body, binding the attention to five places: the crown of the head, the forehead, between the eyebrows, the tip of the nose, and the heart area. In these five places, anchor the attention and contemplate the bone, not letting thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather the thoughts and bring them back, constantly mindful of observing the mind, subduing and restraining the mind as it emerges.
1.14
If the mind becomes extremely fatigued, let mindfulness dwell on its focal object, abandoning outer things and holding to what is retained. For example, just as a monkey is tied to a pillar and stops to rest only when exhausted: the focal object is like the pillar, mindfulness is like the tether, and the mind is compared to the monkey. It is also like a wet nurse who constantly watches over an infant so that it does not fall. The practitioner's observation of the mind is also like this, gradually restraining the mind to make it dwell upon the focal object.
1.15
If the mind dwells for a long time, it accords with the dhyāna dharma. If one attains dhyāna concentration, there are three marks: the body is harmoniously pleased, supple, and nimble; the white bones radiate light like white conch shell; and the mind attains tranquil stability. This is contemplation of the pure. At this time one then attains the mind of the form realm; this is called attaining the mind of the form realm for a beginner learning the dhyāna dharma. When the mind accords with the dhyāna dharma, that is the dharma of the form realm. When the mind attains this dharma, while the body remains in the desire realm, the four great elements become immensely supple, joyful, smooth, pure, radiant, and harmonious—this is called joy. Second, in the white-bone mark of the bone contemplation just mentioned, light shines everywhere in a pure white color. Third, the mind dwelling in one place is called pure contemplation; because one removes the flesh and contemplates the bone, it is called pure contemplation. As for the three marks above, one knows them oneself, while others cannot see them. The three grades above are: the beginning practitioner, who has not previously aroused the intention; the one who has already practiced, having cultivated it over three or four lifetimes; and the one who has long practiced, having trained over hundreds of lifetimes.
1.16
The Second Dharma-Door: Remedying Hatred
1.17
If hatred is particularly abundant, one should train in the three kinds of the maitrī dharma-door: for beginning practitioners, for those who have already practiced, or for those who have long practiced.
1.18
If one is a beginning practitioner, one should be instructed to extend maitrī to dear ones. How does one extend it to relatives and wish them joy? If the practitioner attains various pleasures of body and mind—obtaining clothes when cold, obtaining coolness when hot, obtaining food and drink when hungry and thirsty, obtaining wealth and honor when poor and humble, obtaining rest when worn out with traveling—the practitioner wishes that dear ones obtain such various pleasures, binding the mind to maitrī and not letting other thoughts arise; when different thoughts stray to various conditions, gather them and bring them back. If one has already practiced, one should be instructed to extend maitrī to neutral persons. How does one extend it to neutral persons and give them joy? If the practitioner attains various pleasures of body and mind, one wishes that neutral persons obtain them, binding the mind to maitrī and not letting other thoughts arise; when different thoughts stray to various conditions, gather them and bring them back. If one has long practiced, one should be instructed to extend maitrī to enemies and rivals. How does one extend it to them and give them joy? If the practitioner attains various pleasures of body and mind, one wishes that enemies and rivals obtain them, making them equal to dear ones; equally attaining one mind, the mind becomes vastly pure. Treating dear ones, neutral persons, and enemies equally, it extends broadly to the world, causing all immeasurable sentient beings to obtain joy, pervading the ten directions without exception. With a vastly pure mind, one sees the sentient beings of the ten directions just as one sees oneself; right before one's mind and eyes, one clearly sees them experiencing and attaining happiness. At that time, one immediately attains maitrī samādhi.
1.19
Question: "One may wish that dear ones and neutral persons obtain joy, but how can one have pity on enemies and evil persons and further wish to give them joy?"
1.20
Answer: "One ought to give them joy. Why is this? That person still has causes for various good and pure dharmas; how could I now obliterate their goodness on account of a single enmity? Furthermore, one reflects: 'In past lives, this person may have been my dear friend; how could I, on account of present anger, give rise to enmity and malice anew? I should endure them, which is my own good benefit.' Moreover, one considers the practice of the Dharma: benevolent virtue is vast and tolerant, and the power of maitrī is immeasurable; this must not be lost. One further reflects: 'Without enemies and rivals, through what cause would patience arise? The arising of patience is due to enemies; thus enemies are my dear friends.' Furthermore, the retribution for hatred is the heaviest; among all evils, it is foremost, with none exceeding it. When hatred is directed at beings, its poison is difficult to control; though one desires to burn another, in truth it harms oneself. One also thinks to oneself: 'Outwardly wearing the Dharma robes and inwardly practicing the cultivation of patience—this is called a śramaṇa. How could one let harsh voices induce this flushed face and furious mind? Furthermore, the five appropriated aggregates are a dense forest of manifold sufferings and a target for evil; when suffering, affliction, and malice arrive, by what means could one avoid them? Just as thorns pierce the body, the painful thorns are immeasurable, and manifold enmities are numerous and cannot be eliminated; one must guard oneself and put on the leather shoes of patience.' As the Buddha said:
1.21
"‘If one repays hatred with hatred,
hatred returns and clings to oneself;
when hatred is not repaid,
one can break a great army.
Being able not to hate
is the dharma of great people;
the hatred of petty people
is hard to move, like a mountain.
Hatred is a heavy poison,
causing much ruin and harm;
unable to harm that other,
it is extinguished only when harming oneself.
Hatred is a great blindness:
possessing eyes, one perceives nothing;
hatred is dust and defilement,
polluting the pure mind.
Hatred such as this
must be eradicated with urgency;
a venomous snake in the room,
if not removed, harms people.’
Various kinds of poison of hatred like this are immeasurable; one should practice maitrī and eliminate hatred. This is the maitrī samādhi door."
1.22
The Third Dharma-Door: Remedying Delusion
1.23
If delusion is particularly abundant, one should train in the three kinds of the contemplation dharma-door: for beginning practitioners, for those who have already practiced, or for those who have long practiced.
1.24
If one is a beginning practitioner, one should be instructed: 'Birth is the condition for aging and death; ignorance is the condition for formations.' Contemplating in this way, do not let thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather them and bring them back. If one has already practiced, one should be instructed: 'Formations are the condition for consciousness; consciousness is the condition for name-and-form; name-and-form is the condition for the six sense bases; the six sense bases are the condition for contact; contact is the condition for feeling; feeling is the condition for craving; craving is the condition for clinging; clinging is the condition for existence.' Contemplating in this way, do not let thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather them and bring them back. If one has long practiced, one should be instructed: 'Ignorance is the condition for formations; formations are the condition for consciousness; consciousness is the condition for name-and-form; name-and-form is the condition for the six sense bases; the six sense bases are the condition for contact; contact is the condition for feeling; feeling is the condition for craving; craving is the condition for clinging; clinging is the condition for existence; existence is the condition for birth; birth is the condition for aging and death.' Contemplating in this way, do not let thoughts stray outward; when thoughts stray outward to various conditions, gather them and bring them back.
1.25
Question: "An omniscient person possesses knowledge, while all other people possess ignorance. Herein, what is ignorance?"
1.26
Answer: "Ignorance means knowing nothing at all. Ignorance herein can produce future existence: taking what exists to be non-existent, and what is non-existent to be existent; abandoning the good and grasping the evil; destroying the true mark and clinging to the deceptive. As it is said in the 'Chapter on the Marks of Ignorance':
1.27
"‘Not understanding dharmas of pure benefit,
not knowing virtuous deeds,
it instead acts as the cause of fetters,
like fire born from rubbing drill and hearth.
The mind clings to evil dharmas
and casts far away the good dharmas;
it is a thief robbing sentient beings of light,
plundering both the past and future light.
Conceiving permanence, pleasure, self, and purity,
it reckons them within the five aggregates;
and the dharmas of suffering, origination, cessation, and the path,
it likewise cannot know.
Manifold afflictions are a treacherous road;
a blind person enters and walks in their midst.
Due to kleśas, karma accumulates;
due to karma, one drifts in suffering.
Grasping what should not be grasped,
and instead casting away what should be grasped;
racing in darkness, pursuing improper paths,
stumbling over tree stumps and tumbling to the ground.
Having eyes yet lacking wisdom
is also just like this simile;
because these causes and conditions are extinguished,
the light of wisdom rises like the sun.’
1.28
"This is a brief explanation; from ignorance down to aging and death, it is likewise so."
1.29
Question: "In the Buddha's Dharma, causes and conditions are extremely profound. How can a person with much delusion contemplate causes and conditions?"
1.30
Answer: "There are two kinds of deluded people: first, those like oxen and sheep; second, those with various wrong views, confused and darkened—people deluded by wrong views. It is for the latter that the Buddha said they should contemplate causes and conditions to cultivate samādhi."
1.31
The Fourth Dharma-Door: Remedying Discursive Thought
1.32
If discursive thought is predominantly excessive, one should practice the dharma gate of the ānāpānasmṛti samādhi. There are three types of trainees: those who are beginners in practice, those who have already practiced, and those who have practiced for a long time. If one is a beginner in practice, one should be instructed to single-mindedly count, whether inhalation and exhalation are long or short, counting from one to ten. If one has already practiced, one should be instructed to count from one to ten, follow the breaths as they enter and exit, keeping mindfulness alongside the breath, and bring the mind to rest in one place. If one has practiced for a long time, one should be instructed in counting, following, resting, contemplating, transformative contemplation, and purification. In the ānāpānasmṛti samādhi there are six gates and sixteen divisions. What is counting? One single-mindedly is mindful of the inhalation; when the inhalation has fully ended, one counts 'one'; when the exhalation has fully ended, one counts 'two'. If one counts before it is finished, that is non-counting; if while counting from two to nine one makes an error, one begins counting over again from 'one'. It is just like an accountant: one times one is two, two times two is four, three times three is nine.
1.33
Question: "For what reason does one count?"
1.34
Answer: "Because the contemplation of impermanence is easily attained, because all discursive thoughts are severed, and because single-mindedness is attained. The arising and ceasing of body and mind is impermanent, yet because of resemblance and continuity it is difficult to see; but the arising and ceasing of the inhalation and exhalation is impermanent and easily known and easily seen. Furthermore, when the mind is tied to counting, all discursive thought and all ideation are severed. Discursive thoughts are: sensual thought, malicious thought, harmful thought, thought of kin, thought of homeland, and thought of not dying. One who wishes to seek a pure mind and enter the correct path should first eliminate the three coarse discursive thoughts, and next eliminate the three subtle discursive thoughts. Having eliminated the six thoughts, one will attain all pure dharmas. It is just like a gold-miner, who first eliminates the coarse stones and sand, then eliminates the fine stones and sand, and gradually obtains the fine gold dust."
1.35
Question: "What are the coarse ailments? What are the subtle ailments?"
1.36
Answer: "The three thoughts of sensual desire, malice, and harmfulness are called the coarse ailments. The three thoughts of kin, homeland, and not dying are called the subtle ailments. Having eliminated these thoughts, one attains all pure dharmas."
1.37
Question: "For one who has not yet attained the path, the defilements are not yet severed, and the six discursive thoughts are strong and arise from the mind causing disturbance. How can they be eliminated?"
1.38
Answer: "When the mind is weary of the mundane world, correct contemplation can block them, though it cannot yet uproot them; later, when one attains the taintless path, one can uproot the root of the defilements. What is correct contemplation?
1.39
Seeing that people of much desire suffer in seeking desires, / and that guarding them when obtained is also suffering; / that the anxiety and distress of losing them is also great suffering, / and that when the mind obtains desires, the suffering of never being satisfied. / Desires are impermanent and empty, the causes of worry and grief; / all beings share in this, and one should awaken and abandon them. / Just as when a poisonous snake enters a person’s room, / if it is not urgently removed, harm will surely arrive. / Unstable, unreal, and without value, / one pursues various desires for upside-down pleasure. / Just as an arhat endowed with the six supernormal knowledges / admonished a disciple who had thoughts of desire, saying: / 'You have not broken the precepts, and your precepts are pure; / you do not stay overnight in the same room with a woman; / yet the poisonous snakes of the fetters of desire fill your mind’s room, / entangling and clinging to love and pleasure, not parting from them. / Since you know the bodily precepts must not be violated, / why does your mind constantly lodge together with the fire of desire? / You are one who has left home to seek the path— / on what grounds do you give rein to your mind like this? / Your parents gave you birth and nurtured you; / your relatives brought you up together with affection and love; / they all wept, pining for you and holding you dear— / could you abandon them without looking back, / yet your mind is constantly among thoughts of desire, / playing together with desires without any weariness, / always delighting to dwell in one place with the fire of desire, / rejoicing and passionately delighting without leaving it even for a moment?'
1.40
In such various ways one rebukes thoughts of sensual desire; in such various ways correct contemplation eliminates thoughts of sensual desire."
1.41
Question: "How does one extinguish thoughts of malice?"
1.42
Answer:
1.43
"Ever since emerging from the womb, life is always suffering; / do not become angry and annoyed toward sentient beings within it! / If you think of anger and vexation, loving-kindness and compassion are destroyed; / loving-kindness and compassion do not match with anger and vexation. / When you contemplate loving-kindness and compassion, anger and vexation are extinguished, / just as light and darkness do not dwell in the same place. / If one upholds pure precepts yet thinks with ill-will, / this person destroys himself and ruins the benefit of the Dharma. / Just as when elephants enter the water to bathe, / and then again smear their bodies with mud and dust. / All beings always have old age, sickness, and death, / various kinds of floggings, and hundreds of thousands of sufferings. / How could a good person, thinking upon sentient beings, / further augment these with anger and vexation? / If you give rise to malice wishing to harm another, / before you reach the other person, you yourself will be burned first. / Therefore constantly be mindful of practicing loving-kindness and compassion, / so that evil thoughts of anger and vexation do not arise within. / If a person constantly thinks of practicing good dharmas, / this mind will constantly cultivate what the Buddha is mindful of. / Therefore one should not think of what is unwholesome, / but constantly think of good dharmas with a joyful mind. / One will obtain happiness in this life and the same hereafter; / obtaining the path, eternal joy is nirvāṇa. / If the mind accumulates unwholesome thoughts, / one loses one's own benefit and harms others as well. / This is called unwholesome: both self and other are lost, / and the pure minds of others are also ruined. / It is like an araṇya practitioner / raising his hands and weeping, saying, 'Thieves have robbed me!'
1.44
"Someone asked, 'Who has robbed you?' He replied, 'I do not fear thieves of wealth; I do not amass wealth to seek mundane gain—what thief of wealth could rob me? I have gathered the wholesome roots, the treasures of all dharmas, but the thieves of vitarka and vicāra have come and destroyed my benefits. Thieves of wealth can be avoided, for there are many hiding places, but when the thieves who rob goodness arrive, there is nowhere to hide.' In such various ways one rebukes malice; in such various ways correct contemplation eliminates thoughts of malice."
1.45
Question: "How does one eliminate thoughts of harmfulness?"
1.46
Answer: "Sentient beings are of hundreds of thousands of kinds; / various diseases turn by turns constantly come to vex them. / The thief of death lies in wait, ever wishing to kill them; / they drown of themselves in immeasurable sufferings. / How could a good person further add vexation, / slandering and plotting harm without loving-kindness or benevolence? / Before one manages to injure another, calamity befalls one’s own body. / If worldly people give rise to vexation, that is pardonable: / this matter is a mundane dharma, a cause of evil karma, / and they do not claim for themselves, 'I cultivate the good.' / But for one who has left home to seek the pure path / to produce ill-will and harbor a jealous mind / is like releasing poisonous fire from within cool, clear clouds— / one should know this evil guilt is exceedingly deep. / When an araṇya dweller gave rise to jealousy, / an arhat who possessed the knowledge of the minds of others / instructed and sternly rebuked him: 'How foolish you are! / Jealousy itself destroys your roots of merit. / If you seek offerings, you should yourself amass / the roots of all merit to adorn your person. / If you do not uphold the precepts, practice dhyāna, and learn much, / falsely wearing dyed robes will destroy the Dharma-body. / You are truly a beggar, a degraded and evil person; / how can you seek offerings to benefit yourself? / Hunger, thirst, cold, and heat—hundreds of thousands of pains— / sentient beings are constantly distressed by these vexations; / the afflictions of body and mind are without end— / how could a good person add further vexations? / It is like sticking a needle into an aching sore, / or like a prison inmate whose interrogation is not yet decided: / with suffering and distress entangling the body and all vexations gathered, / how could loving-kindness make them even more severe?'
1.47
"In such various ways one rebukes thoughts of harmfulness; in such various ways correct contemplation eliminates thoughts of harmfulness."
1.48
Question: "How does one eliminate thoughts of kin?"
1.49
Answer: "One should reflect in this way: 'In this world within saṃsāra, drawn along by the conditions of one's own karma, who is kin and who is not kin? It is merely on account of delusion that one erroneously produces an attached mind, reckoning them to be one's own kin. In past lives those who were not kin were taken as kin; in future lives those who are not kin will be taken as kin; those who are kin in this life were not kin in the past.' It is just like birds roosting: in the evening they gather in a single tree, and in the morning they fly off, each going according to conditions. Family and relatives are also like this: born into the world, each has a different mind; when conditions meet they are close, and when conditions disperse they become distant. There is nothing fixed or real; it is through causes, conditions, and karmic retributions that they are close to one another. It is like dry sand: when grasped in a fist by the hand, conditions of holding bring it together, and conditions of releasing make it scatter. Parents raise a child expecting recompense in old age; the child, having received their embrace and rearing, ought to repay them. If one conforms to their wishes, one is kin; if one opposes their wishes, one is an enemy. There are relatives who cannot benefit but instead bring harm; there are non-relatives who do no harm and bring great benefit. People produce love due to conditions, and due to conditions of love they are further cut off. It is like a painter who paints an image of a woman and then falls in love with it himself; this is just the same—one produces defiled attachment by oneself, and becomes attached to the external. In past lives you had kin; what do they do for you now in this life? You also cannot benefit your past kin, nor can your past kin benefit you; neither benefits the other. Thinking in vain that this is kin and that is not kin is unfixed and boundless in the world. Just as an arhat instructed a newly ordained disciple who longed for his kin, saying: 'Like an evil person who vomits food and wishes to eat it again, you are just like this! You have already succeeded in leaving home—why do you still wish to have loving attachment? These shaven heads and dyed robes are the marks of liberation! By clinging to kin you do not attain liberation, and are bound again by love. The three realms are impermanent, revolving without stability; whether kin or not kin, though they are kin now, after a long time they perish. Thus beings of the ten directions revolve; kin are unfixed, and these are not my kin.' When a person is about to die, being without mind and consciousness, staring straight without moving, his breath ceases and his life ends as if falling into a dark pit. At that time, where are his kin and family? When he was first born, those who were not kin in a prior life are now forcibly brought together as kin; when he is about to die, they are again not kin. Contemplating like this, one should not be attached to kin. Just as when a person's child died, parents in three places wept at the same time: deceiving the parents and wife in heaven, deceiving those among humans as well, and deceiving the parents among the nāgas as well. In such various ways correct contemplation eliminates thoughts of kin."
1.50
Question: "How does one eliminate thoughts of homeland?"
1.51
Answer: "If a practitioner thinks, 'This land is prosperous, joyful, secure, and has many good people,' he will constantly be pulled by the rope of thoughts of homeland and led to a place of guilt. The ideating mind being like this, if one is a wise person, one should not be attached to such thoughts. Why is this? A homeland is scorched by various faults and transgressions; because the seasons change, and also because there is starvation and bodily exhaustion, all lands are without permanent peace. Furthermore, the suffering of old age, sickness, and death exists in every land; leaving the bodily suffering of this place, one obtains the bodily suffering of that place—nowhere one goes among all lands is without suffering. Supposing there were a land that is secure, prosperous, and joyful, yet having the distress of defilements the mind produces suffering and affliction, this is not a good land. That which can remove mixed evils in a land, can attenuate defilements, and can keep the mind free from distress—this is called a good land. All sentient beings have two kinds of suffering: bodily suffering and mental suffering. They constantly have suffering and distress; there is no land without these two distresses. Furthermore, some lands are extremely cold, some lands are extremely hot, some lands have famine, some lands have much sickness, some lands have many bandits, and in some lands the royal law is disordered. The mind should not be attached to such various evils of homelands. In this way correct contemplation eliminates thoughts of homeland."
1.52
Question: "How does one eliminate thoughts of not dying?"
1.53
He answers: "One should teach the practitioner: whether born into a good family or born into a noble clan, having talent, skill, strength, or power excelling others, you must not think of any of these things. Why is this? When all die, death does not consider old or young, noble or base, talent, skill, strength, or power. This body is the cause and condition for all sorrows and vexations; if one relies on one's own perception of a short or long lifespan to deem oneself secure, this is being a foolish person. Why is this? This is called a cause of sorrow and vexation. Depending on these four great elements and the form derived from the four great elements, which are like four venomous serpents in mutual conflict, who can find security? Counting on an exhalation to be followed by an inhalation cannot be trusted. Furthermore, when a person sleeps, to expect with certainty that one will wake cannot be trusted. From conception in the womb until old age, the matter of death constantly approaches; yet when death's time is sought, one says one will never die—how can this be trusted? It is like a murdering bandit drawing a sword and aiming an arrow, constantly seeking to kill people without any thought of pity. When a person is born into the world, the power of death is the greatest; among all things, there is none stronger than the power of death. If the most marvelous persons of the past could not escape this death, and in the present there are also no persons of great wisdom who can overcome death, nor can one escape by pleading with soft words or deceiving with clever talk, nor can one avert this death by holding the precepts and vīrya. For this reason, one should know that human life is ever perilous and fragile and cannot be relied upon. Do not trust the notion of permanence and that my life will endure long. These bandits of death constantly carry people away, not waiting until they reach old age before killing them.
1.54
"Just as an arhat instructed disciples vexed by various thoughts, saying: 'Why do you not know weariness of the world and enter the path? Why do you give rise to such thoughts? Some die before they are even born; some die at the very moment of birth; some die during nursing; some die when weaned; some die in childhood; some die in their prime; some die in old age. In all times, the realm of death intervenes. It is like tree blossoms: some fall while in blossom, some fall when bearing fruit, and some fall while still unripe. Therefore, you should know that you must strive with diligent vīrya to seek the path of security; living together with a bandit of great strength cannot be trusted. This bandit is like a tiger skillfully concealing its body; thus this bandit of death constantly seeks to kill people.'
1.55
"Whatever exists in the world is empty like a water bubble; how can you say that you will wait for a later time to enter the path? Who can bear witness and say that you will certainly reach old age and be able to practice the path? It is like a great tree on a precipitous cliff: above, there is a great wind; below, there are surging waters eroding the soil at its roots—who would trust that this tree could long remain? Human life is also like this; not even a brief moment can be trusted. The father is like a grain seed, the mother is like fertile soil, past-life causes and conditions of demerit and merit are like rainfall, sentient beings are like the grain, and saṃsāra is like the harvest. The diverse wisdom and virtues of sons of devas and human kings—just as a king of the devas aids the devas in battle to crush the asura armies, experiencing various pleasures, reaching supreme heights, greatness, and radiance—plunge right back into dark obscurity. For this reason, do not trust this living span, saying: 'Today I shall do this, tomorrow and the day after I shall do that.' By contemplating in this way in various manners, one eliminates the thought of immortality.
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