We all live in this world: every day people are born, and every day people die. Some live for more than a hundred years; others live only a decade or so; still others die as soon as they are born. Though the length of a human life differs, it all passes in the blink of an eye.

Then where does human life come from, and where do we go after death? No one knows. Thus birth and death are a great matter. It was for this great matter of causes and conditions that the Buddha appeared in the world, to point out the way for us amid our confusion. He enables us to know where birth comes from and where death goes, to break through this baffling knot of doubt and solve this riddle.

Those without wisdom do not know where birth comes from or where death goes. They neither concern themselves with nor investigate this question. They think that being born into this world means merely dressing, eating, marrying, and having children, and so they muddle through an entire lifetime.

Long ago, Liang Qichao asked everyone this question: “What, after all, is the purpose of coming into this world?” Is it simply for you to dress and eat? Could it be that there is too much food and clothing in this world, with no one to eat or wear them, so you are called here to do so? Clearly not. Is it for you to marry, have children, and propagate future generations? If that were the sole purpose, one would be no different from maggots in a latrine—what meaning would there be in that? Clearly, that is not the case.

Then what is it for, after all? Yet the ignorant do not know and do not investigate. They simply come from a dream and return to a dream. Muddling through the decades in the blink of an eye—even to a hundred years—they pass an entire human life in a daze.

Among human beings, those who seek to investigate the truth of human life and the universe and break through the delusion of birth and death are indeed few.

Most people know only how to seek promotion and wealth, earn money, marry a wife, live a little more comfortably, and enjoy themselves; they are satisfied with this and never investigate the truth of human life and the universe or the value of human existence. Those with wisdom are unwilling to remain confused. They investigate: Where do we human beings ultimately come from? Where do we go after death? How did this universe come into being? Seeking a correct answer, they developed philosophy.

Many outstanding people, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, have investigated the origins of this world and of human life. Yet despite exhausting their ingenuity and mental powers, they have not obtained a true and correct answer. Some say it is mind-only; some say it is matter-only. Some speak of monism; others of dualism. But what is really the case? No true conclusion has been reached.

Only the Buddha can point out the way amid confusion, solve this riddle, and correctly tell us the origins of human life and the universe. That today we can hear this ultimate and definitive secret scripture of Mahāyāna Buddhism is truly unsurpassed good fortune.

This good fortune cannot compare with worldly prosperity. What is called worldly prosperity means somewhat higher status, somewhat greater income, and a somewhat more comfortable life. Yet no matter how well one lives, one cannot escape birth, old age, sickness, and death. When the time comes, one still goes naked and bare. No matter how much money one has, not a single cent can be taken along. Only after studying the Buddhadharma, understanding this truth, and understanding what human beings ultimately are, can one escape the trap of birth and death. This alone is the great good fortune of ultimate meaning.

When many intelligent people reach an impasse in their studies and cannot obtain an answer, they turn to religion to investigate whether they may find a true answer. “Where, after all, do human beings come from?” Different religions give different explanations. Christianity says, “They were created by God.” Islam says, “They were created by Allah.”

But if one investigates further: if God created us all, then who created God? There is no answer. Thus, only the Buddhadharma explains this thoroughly: it is not that one being created another. The Buddhadharma tells us that Buddha-nature has existed since beginningless time—“beginningless” means having no beginning.

What is this Buddha-nature? It is the capacity of our seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing; it is the functioning of seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing. When our six sense faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—meet the six sense objects—forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and dharmas—conscious awareness arises.

Thus, the eyes see forms; the ears hear sounds; the nose smells fragrances and odors; the tongue tastes flavors; the body senses contact with the external environment; and the sixth consciousness, the brain, gives rise to awareness and discrimination. Therefore, mind pertains to knowing, body to awareness, eyes to seeing, ears to hearing, nose to smelling, and tongue to tasting. These are the functions of seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing. This is our intrinsic nature.

People cannot see this intrinsic nature, and so they think it does not exist. Yet this capacity is like electricity. When we connect the wires, install the light bulb, and turn on the switch, the lamp lights up. We cannot see the electricity, but the nerves of our brain are like electrical wires: they function by relying on this capacity.

If we cease to breathe—if the breath is cut off—the brain and its nerves remain, but they can no longer function. Therefore, when Chan practitioners cultivate, they investigate: “Who is reciting the Buddha’s name?” Who, after all, is reciting this Buddha’s name? It is you who recite it—but what do you call “you”? Do you call the body “you,” or do you call thought “you”?

This body is not you, because it is merely the house in which you dwell. Once Buddha-nature departs and leaves the body, your body can no longer recite. Nor is thought you, because thought is a reflection in the human brain of the objective external environment. Without an objective external environment, there would be no such thought.

If the body is not you, and thought is not you, then who are you, after all? Contemplate this huatou in your mind. A sense of doubt will arise and cut off your deluded thoughts. Precisely when subject and object both vanish, turn the light inward and see for yourself; then you will see this formless Buddha-nature. Though this Buddha-nature is formless, it has function.

It still exists! Thus, after all our investigation, we find that what the Buddhadharma teaches is the truth. Why? Because it must be directly realized before one can truly benefit from it.

When we cultivate until deluded thinking and deluded thoughts have ceased—when the preceding thought has ended and the following thought has not yet arisen, in true emptiness—it is utterly bare, unstained by a single speck of dust, yet clear and distinct, unlike wood or stone. What is this “clear and distinct” awareness? It is our faculty of awareness, our capacity capable of all things. It is also the Buddha-nature that everyone constantly seeks to realize the mind and

see one’s true nature. If we focus on this, awaken to it, and experience it, and can then temper ourselves amid circumstances—neither delighting in favorable circumstances nor becoming irritated by adverse ones, and having no attachment, love, anger, grasping, or rejecting in response to circumstances—this is called “awakening”! Because the Buddhadharma has methods that enable us to break open the knot of delusion and personally see the intrinsic nature of human life and the universe, it is the only correct guide for human life.

Buddhism is non-theistic and differs from what other religions teach. Buddhism does not say that God or a deity creates and controls us; rather, we control ourselves and create ourselves. Therefore, it is said, “Everything is created by mind alone.” Other religions, however, posit a supreme true God or Lord who controls you.

Some who do not understand say: “Does Buddhism not say that after people die there are the Ten Courts of Yama? Yama Kings judge you; does that not mean that the Yama Kings control and dispose of you?” No. That is a misunderstanding. In fact, we control ourselves. Those who create wholesome karma receive wholesome results and go to good places.

Those who create unwholesome karma must undergo unwholesome retribution and go to bad and painful places. It is not the Yama Kings who control them. The Yama Kings are like our public-security bureau. For example, if we have done nothing unlawful, can the public-security bureau interfere with us? But if you commit a crime, it will not be lenient with you: it will arrest you, try you, and sentence you to prison.

Therefore, everything is controlled by oneself; no one else controls you. We say that by performing the ten wholesome acts one is reborn in heaven, while by being full of greed, anger, and ignorance and creating evil karma, one falls into hell. All this is created by oneself. The ten Dharma realms are but one mind.

The ten Dharma realms refer to the four noble realms and the six ordinary realms. The four noble realms are Buddhas, bodhisattvas, pratyekabuddhas, and arhats; the six ordinary realms are devas, humans, asuras, hell beings, hungry ghosts, and animals. These ten Dharma realms are all created by our one mind.

What Buddhism calls “cause and effect and rebirth” tells us to understand the causal law that “plant melons and you reap melons; plant beans and you reap beans.” We should fear karmic retribution and, first of all, refrain from creating karma at the causal stage. Ordinary beings do not fear creating causes; they fear only receiving the results. Bodhisattvas fear only creating causes. If they do not create causes, they will not receive results.

For example, if we commit an unlawful act now, we create an unwholesome cause, and we will certainly face a lawsuit, trial, and imprisonment. If we have done no wrong, we will not undergo this unwholesome result.

Ordinary beings are not like this. They fear only the results and do not fear creating causes. In order to achieve their aims of enjoyment, they create evil karma by any means, and so society has many unlawful acts. Consequently, there are legal means of punishment such as criminal law and civil law.

In fact, it is precisely because people cling to this physical body as the self that they seek to indulge in enjoyment. Especially in today’s world, where science is advanced and material goods are abundant, there are many enjoyments. People’s material desires swell and are impossible to satisfy: having this, they still want that. Everything is high consumption.

When they do not have the necessary income, they cannot avoid doing unlawful things. Thus, unlawful incidents arise one after another in society, all for this reason.

Because we mistakenly take this physical body to be the self, we create the causes of karma and give rise to deluded feelings. Then, because of these false feelings and views, we create karma in accordance with our feelings and undergo retribution in accordance with our karma, revolving endlessly through birth and death. This shows that the Buddhist teaching of “cause and effect and cyclic rebirth” is an incontrovertible truth. Like the “law of causality” discovered by scientists, it is real, trustworthy, and incontrovertible.

When Buddhism speaks of the swift passage of impermanence, it tells us that human life is like morning dew—very brief indeed. Living to a hundred may seem like longevity, but in fact it passes in the blink of an eye. We are now already several decades old, yet when we look back, it seems as though those earlier events happened only yesterday. Several decades have passed in an instant. Thus, time passes very quickly.

The Buddha sees us as though we are born in the morning and die at night. A hundred years in our world is, to heavenly beings, only a brief moment. If we were in Tuṣita Heaven, one day there would equal more than three hundred years here.

Can a person here live for four hundred years? Even if such a person exists, it would be very rare; yet in their view, that would amount to only one day. Human life is brief, and we shall soon depart. What should we do? If we do not diligently apply ourselves to spiritual practice in the hope of transcending birth and death, can we say that we have done justice to this one passage through the world? The Buddha’s many admonitory words all serve this purpose.

They sound an alarm for us, urging us to practice diligently without delay and not miss this precious human life. Therefore, do not cling any longer to this physical body. This physical body is not our true self; it is merely the house in which we dwell. The true person is our Buddha-nature. Buddha-nature is the capacity for seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing that we discussed just now.

We must protect this capacity from being stained by adventitious defilements. These adventitious defilements are the “forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and dharmas” that we discussed just now. “Adventitious dust” is like dust: it is not the master and is therefore called a guest. If we become attached to these things, seeking enjoyment and resorting to any means to satisfy our desires, then we are in trouble.

Thus, Buddhism requires us to understand the principles of “cause and effect and cyclic rebirth” and “the swift passage of impermanence,” so that we may transform our lives, become genuine human beings, become persons of true character, and then transcend the human state to become Buddhas.

Human life does not last long. We must quickly let go and not chase after external objects. Let us return to the original pure realm—utterly bare, naked, and spotless—so that we do not suffer the pains of birth-and-death and cyclic rebirth in vain. We are now all caught in inverted deluded thoughts without realizing it.

After the Buddha awakened to the Way upon seeing the morning star on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, he said: “How wondrous! How wondrous! All sentient beings possess the Tathāgata’s wisdom and virtuous characteristics.” Why, then, do they not see this for themselves? It is because deluded thoughts, inversion, and attachment obscure their original nature. We are now all amid deluded thoughts, inversion, and attachment. The Buddha exhorts us to let go of everything, as though striking us on the head with a stick and telling us to awaken quickly from our dream.

The course of a human life is one unbroken succession of suffering. As for the suffering of birth, aging, illness, and death, we may have forgotten the suffering of birth. But look at how infants are born: they all cry out “Waa!”; none comes into the world laughing.

Why do they not laugh? While in the mother’s womb, they are warm, their skin is very tender, and they do not come into contact with external conditions. As soon as they emerge from the womb, the stimulation of cold air causes pain like being pricked by needles.

In the womb, the child originally has its head upward. When it is about to be born, its head must first turn downward; it is turned upside down and squeezed out through the mother’s pelvis, as though being forced through a narrow cleft between two great mountains. The child suffers greatly and therefore emerges crying. Children suffer, and adults suffer as well.

In the delivery room, mothers also cry out in pain, as though they are dying. Old age is suffering too: the eyes grow dim and cannot see; the ears grow deaf and cannot hear clearly; the teeth fall out, and one cannot chew food. As the body ages and one’s strength declines, one must depend on others for care and loses freedom and ease. Once illness arises, the suffering is even greater.

Everyone knows that even a minor toothache can be unbearably painful. As the saying goes, “A toothache is not an illness, but when it hurts, it can cost you your life!” How much more so with serious illnesses. If one develops cancer or the like, the pain is even more unbearable. I once saw someone with cancer who, in the end, rolled all over the bed in agony. Thus, illness is one of life’s greatest sufferings.

When we speak of death, the suffering is still greater. At death, the four great elements disperse; it is like stripping the shell from a living turtle, an agony beyond endurance. The human body is formed by the coming together of the four great elements of earth, water, fire, and wind. At death, the earth element is the first to disperse.

When the earth element disperses, it feels as though Mount Tai were pressing upon the body: one is so heavy and oppressed that one cannot catch one’s breath, and family members cannot move the person. When the water element disperses, it feels as though one’s whole body were immersed in water, damp and unbearably uncomfortable. When the fire element disperses, the whole body burns with fever; the two cheekbones of a dying person become flushed red, which is a sign of the dispersal of the fire element. The dispersal of the wind element is more painful still.

It is like a great wind blowing away the surface of the earth layer by layer. The patient feels as though flesh and skin were being sliced away layer by layer with a knife. Later, when breathing is about to cease, there is only exhalation and no inhalation. A glob of phlegm from deep within is lodged in the throat, preventing breathing; when this phlegm finally drops, the breath ceases. The suffering is immense.

Thus, throughout a person’s life, birth, aging, illness, and death are all very painful. Of course, there are other sufferings as well, such as the suffering of not obtaining what one seeks, the suffering of separation from those one loves, and the suffering of meeting those one hates. We shall not discuss them here.

Lay practitioner Sun Jingfeng said: “Some people study Buddhism solely because they fear birth and death. There is another kind of person who arouses the great resolve to study Buddhism and realizes that sentient beings in the six realms were all our parents in past lives. They sink in the sea of suffering, their heads repeatedly rising above and falling below the water, with no prospect of escape.”

“Therefore, they rely on Mahāyāna teachings and the spirit of selflessness: through contemplating impermanence, they transcend birth and death; further, they give rise to the four immeasurables, cultivate the six perfections and myriad practices, follow the bodhisattva path, and vow that all sentient beings may become Buddhas.” This explains that there are many different reasons for arousing the resolve to study Buddhism.

Some study Buddhism because they fear birth and death. They are alive now, but will suffer when they die; after death, where will they go? They do not know, so they come to study Buddhism in search of a destination. For example, those who now practice in the Pure Land school may be reborn in the Western Pure Land in the future. Others arouse the resolve in order to liberate sentient beings.

Thus, Buddhism distinguishes five vehicles. The first is the vehicle of ordinary beings: they know only to do good and avoid evil, and neither seek to transcend birth and death nor know how to do so.

For example, many people visit temples on the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month to burn incense and pay homage to the Buddha. They do not truly understand what the Buddhadharma is, nor do they know how to transcend birth and death. They have merely touched the edge of the Buddhadharma. This is called the vehicle of ordinary beings, also called the human and deva vehicle.

The second is the arhat vehicle. Some cultivate solely in order to transcend birth and death for themselves. Knowing that birth and death are fearsome and that impermanence passes swiftly, they arouse the resolve to cultivate so as to escape the cycle of rebirth in the six realms as quickly as possible. This is the arhat vehicle.

The third is the pratyekabuddha vehicle, or vehicle of the solitary awakened ones. Like arhats, they are concerned only with their own liberation, but they are more perceptive than arhats: seeing a small sign, they understand what is significant; through causes, they awaken to results. Therefore, they practice the twelve links of dependent origination, unlike arhats, who investigate causes from results through the Dharma gate of the Four Noble Truths.

When no Buddha is in the world, they see flowers bloom and fall, awaken to emptiness, suffering, and impermanence, and realize the Way. Thus, they are slightly superior to arhats.

The fourth is the bodhisattva vehicle, whose practitioners arouse the resolve to cultivate in order to liberate sentient beings. Seeing that people throughout the world suffer birth, aging, illness, and death, they first resolve to cultivate and attain liberation themselves, so that they may then liberate others.

For example, if someone falls into the Huangpu River and you want to save them but cannot swim yourself, how can you save them? You must first learn to swim and then learn lifesaving techniques. Simply knowing how to swim is not enough: when you try to rescue the person, they may cling to you desperately, and then you yourself will be unable to swim.

Therefore, the Buddhadharma teaches the six perfections and myriad practices, explaining how to liberate sentient beings and enabling people to understand the methods of helping others across. First liberate oneself, then liberate others: this is the bodhisattva vehicle. The fifth is the Buddha vehicle. It recognizes that all sentient beings possess this undefiled wisdom-nature, no different from that of the Buddha. There is no difference between them and Śākyamuni Buddha, Medicine Buddha, Amitābha Buddha, and the like.

It is only because of deluded thoughts and attachment that we mistakenly take this physical body to be the self and do not know that this capacity for awareness is our dharmakāya. We should now turn back without delay, let go of everything, restore our own inherent wisdom and virtuous characteristics, and perfect the fruition of Buddhahood. This is the Buddha vehicle. Although Buddhism is said to distinguish five vehicles, in truth they are all created by one mind; it is only because people differ in the degree of their aspiration that Buddhism is divided into five vehicles.

The Buddha teaches us that there is only the One True Dharma Realm: Buddha-nature is real, while everything else is false and impermanent. The earth on which we dwell is no exception. It cycles through arising, abiding, decay, and emptiness in four kalpas. Each of arising, abiding, decay, and emptiness is a middle kalpa, and each middle kalpa consists of twenty small kalpas.

Four middle kalpas make one great kalpa. When a great kalpa has passed, the earth will be destroyed. Scientists also say that in the future the earth will collide with another planet and be consumed by a great fire. The Buddhist sūtras likewise say that a great fire will destroy the earth. We shall not discuss this now. In short, everything is impermanent, and nothing can be clung to.

Therefore, to study Buddhism is to “contemplate impermanence.” That is, we are told to let go of everything and not cling, for there is fundamentally nothing lasting or real.

We are born into this world, and even those who live past a hundred see their lives pass in the blink of an eye. Besides, long life is rare. Why then be so calculating over fame, sensual pleasures, wealth, and profit, instead of being forgiving toward others? For example, when we ride on a bus, we may quarrel as soon as someone bumps into us. They did not bump into you intentionally, so do not be so petty and calculating.

I once read a newspaper account that gave much food for thought: a sports reporter was interviewing people abroad. Because he was walking too hurriedly and carelessly, he stepped on an elderly foreign man's foot.

The elderly man instead apologized to him: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was walking too slowly and held you up. If I had walked faster, you would not have stepped on my foot.” The reporter could only blush. He had stepped on someone else’s foot, yet the other person apologized to him. Look at the refinement of that person’s character.

If we all possessed such a spirit, society would be peaceful and disputes would not arise. Learning Buddhism teaches us first to become persons of sound character and, further still, to become extraordinary persons. If everyone possessed noble sentiments and could yield themselves to others at all times and in all places, society would be peaceful, the nation prosperous and strong, and wars would not occur in the world.

Thus Buddhism benefits the whole world. Therefore, at every moment we should contemplate the impermanence of the self. We are all merely guests in this world. The poet Li Bai said: “Heaven and earth are the inn for the myriad things; time is the passing guest of a hundred generations.”

Heaven and earth are a great inn. We merely stay in it for a while before departing. Why, then, should we fail to be courteous, cling stubbornly, and not treat others generously? Therefore, in learning Buddhism we must yield ourselves to others and eradicate all our attachments, greed, anger, ignorance, pride, and doubt. Only then can we realize the Way.

The reason we have greed is that we mistakenly take this physical body to be the self. We seek enjoyment and wish for long life.

After Qin Shi Huang became emperor, he wished to live a long life and enjoy forever the pleasures of being emperor. He sent people to seek an elixir of immortality. This was precisely a manifestation of greed. Today society is unsettled, and corruption and bribery are rampant; greed is also at work behind them. If we awaken to the fact that all things are illusory and unobtainable, what is there left to covet? We should instead do our utmost to seek the welfare of the public and accumulate some virtue.

As a common saying goes: “Leaving ten thousand pieces of gold to one’s children is not as good as leaving them a single classic on accumulating virtue.” This warns later generations that it is not good merely to leave money to one’s descendants; it is better to teach them to create blessings and accumulate virtue. If we know that everything is illusory and impermanent, we will no longer grasp or cling. Without clinging, we let go; once we let go, the mind becomes empty; when the mind is empty, our intrinsic nature appears before us, and we are liberated from birth and death.

This principle is very simple. It is easy to understand, but not so easy to put into practice, because our habitual tendency to cling is too deep. When you are told to let go, you cannot do so. Therefore, we must constantly study and train, struggle against ourselves, and only then can we gradually eliminate these old habits of attachment.

The four great vows of Mahāyāna Buddhism are: “Dharma gates are boundless; I vow to learn them. Afflictions are inexhaustible; I vow to cut them off. Sentient beings are limitless; I vow to liberate them. The Buddha Way is unsurpassable; I vow to attain it.” We must arouse these four great vows and conscientiously urge ourselves at every moment to practice diligently. It is not merely for our own liberation. The six perfections and myriad practices are generosity, precepts, patience, diligence, dhyāna, and wisdom.

The first is generosity. Why cultivate generosity? It is to cut off our stinginess and attachment. We are all extremely attached and miserly, unwilling to give. Once we are willing to give, our mind-capacity becomes vast.

The second is observing the precepts, which means keeping the mind from being stirred. If your mind is constantly agitated and deluded thoughts arise in profusion, that will not do.

The third is patience. This does not mean that, when we are about to lose our temper, we forcibly suppress our anger. No. If we did that, excessive liver-fire would make us ill. What should we do instead? Contemplate emptiness: nothing whatsoever can be obtained, and even the “self” does not exist.

If there is no self, where can there be insult? Without a self, who is there to undergo the insult? Contemplate in this way and, as the Diamond Sūtra says, there is “no mark of self, no mark of person, no mark of sentient being, and no mark of life span.” Without person or self, whence could insult arise? If there is no insult, what need is there for patience? Patience without the notion of patience is great patience.

For nothing has any independent existence; all forms arise through the coming together of causes and conditions. “Dharmas arising from causes and conditions, I declare to be empty.” Things do not exist in themselves; they exist only after causes and conditions converge. Therefore, do not cling to appearances any longer. Without clinging to appearances, your mind becomes empty, and when the mind is empty, insult likewise disappears.

The fourth is diligence. Practicing the Dharma and learning Buddhism require diligence. How should one be diligent? By diligently eliminating one’s deluded habits. That is why practitioners in the Pure Land school recite the Buddha’s name tens of thousands of times each day: to sweep away deluded imaginings and deluded thoughts. Our deluded imaginings never cease, and deluded thoughts arise in countless forms. From morning to night, they turn endlessly in our minds.

Only when we sit down to recite the Buddha’s name do we see the deluded thoughts: this thought arises, then that thought comes. When you are busily occupied, you do not see your deluded thoughts and may even think that you have none. In fact, they never cease; you simply do not see them.

This is like a cup of muddy water. While it is turbid, you cannot see the sand and silt. When the sand and silt settle and the water above becomes clear, only then can you see them. Likewise, only when our deluded thoughts and deluded mind become calm can we see that deluded thoughts are continuously moving. It is a good thing when we see deluded thoughts while meditating or reciting the Buddha’s name, for the mind is gradually becoming calm.

Some people say that seeing deluded thoughts during meditation is bad, and that it would be better not to meditate. When they do not meditate, they cannot see their deluded thoughts, and they imagine that there are none. But this is not so. Deluded thoughts never cease and never stop. Therefore, we must practice diligently and without slackening: in this at dawn, in this at dusk; in this when displaced, in this when distressed.

At every moment, maintain contemplation. As soon as a thought arises, see it and do not follow it. If we truly practice in this diligent and unremitting way, within three to five years we can break through and see our own intrinsic nature. Some practice for many years without success. Why? Because thoughts still arise constantly; they have not watched over them, nor have they practiced diligently.

If you watch over it at every moment, in only three to five years you will certainly bring thoughts to rest. You will certainly dissolve body, mind, and world into emptiness. Then, through ceaseless training amid circumstances and diligently eliminating habitual tendencies, you will ultimately become continuous and undivided. This is certain. Thus, we say that those who practice the Heart-of-Heart Dharma must meditate at every moment.

This does not mean meditating for two hours and then, once you leave the cushion, letting a wild horse run free and allowing deluded thoughts to stir. Rather, you must maintain continuous and seamless contemplation, watch over deluded thoughts, and not follow them. What does “meditation” subdue? It subdues deluded thoughts: see where a thought arises and do not follow it. Sitting means seeing one’s intrinsic nature. You must see your intrinsic nature at every moment. This nature is like your shadow: you cannot leave it even if you try.

Lay Buddhist Fu said: “Each night I sleep embracing the Buddha; each morning I rise together with him.” At night, while sleeping, one embraces the Buddha; in the morning, one rises together with the Buddha. This explains that one cannot be separated from one’s intrinsic nature. If we truly apply ourselves and practice diligently without slackening, I guarantee that you will attain realization within three to five years.

But if you are not so diligent, practicing or not practicing as you please—meditating once when you feel happy, and not meditating when you do not—then it will not do.

Or if, while meditating, you indulge in random thoughts—reciting the Buddha’s name or holding a mantra on the one hand while deluded thoughts turn endlessly in your mind on the other—what use is that? When we meditate, we must let go of everything wholeheartedly, like one utterly dead, and hold the mantra continuously with “mind reciting and ears hearing.” Only then is there a point of entry. Mind reciting does not mean reciting with the mouth; it means that the mind itself is reciting.

Your ears must clearly hear the sound of your own mantra or Buddha-recitation. You must keep your attention fixed on that sound. Master Hanshan said: “When we recite the Buddha’s name or hold a mantra, it should be like pushing a heavily laden cart uphill, exerting all our strength to push it onward.” It is like pushing a heavy cart uphill, not a light cart downhill. When pushing a light cart downhill, you need not exert yourself; with a whoosh, it rolls down.

If a cart is loaded with heavy things and must be pushed uphill, can you push it up without exertion? You cannot. Therefore, when reciting the Buddha’s name or holding a mantra, you must exert yourself as if pushing a heavily laden cart uphill. Merely meditating for two hours does not count. After leaving the cushion, you must constantly maintain contemplation: when a thought arises, do not follow it. Within three to five years, I guarantee that you will see your intrinsic nature. If you practice in this way and do not attain realization, come and scold me! But these are not my words; they were spoken by the great patriarchs. They have been proven through practice.

The fifth is dhyāna. Through diligent and unremitting practice, one attains dhyāna. Dhyāna means not being deluded by any circumstance and not allowing the mind to waver. When you see something good, do not become attached to it; do not let your mind leap about, wishing to acquire it and make it your own. When you encounter something unpleasant or contrary to your wishes, do not become afflicted.

When the mind is truly empty, it remains constantly gathered in samādhi and is not deluded when events arise. Samādhi does not mean sitting there motionless as though dead, much less being unable to undertake important responsibilities. You must still speak, work, and walk as usual. It simply means that, while doing everything, the mind does not waver. It is like a mirror reflecting things.

All kinds of images appear in a mirror, yet the mirror does not move. The mirror does not say, “This is good, I want it; that is bad, I do not want it.” It does not discriminate; it merely reflects objects. Whatever comes before it, it reflects.

If something is long, it manifests a long appearance; if short, a short appearance; if square, a square appearance; if red, red; if blue, blue. It neither takes nor rejects and makes no distinctions whatsoever. This is called the “realm of direct perception.” This realm of direct perception is our Original Face. All practitioners cultivate in order to see their intrinsic nature, to see their Original Face.

Where, after all, is this noble nature—our Original Face? It is not elsewhere; it shines right before each person. When we simply let go of everything with a “snap,” not a single thought arises; yet we are not unaware like wood or stone, but clearly and distinctly aware.

This clear and distinct numinous knowing is everyone's Original Face! Once we clearly see this nature, we must safeguard this Original Face at every moment. Before honor or slander, do not let the mind be moved; pay them no heed, and safeguard this mind of direct awareness. When this safeguarding has become fully mature and complete, there is no need to safeguard it any longer. Let it function freely in accordance with conditions, and the great Way will be accomplished. Thus, the Buddhadharma is not difficult when explained. So long as we are willing to act, willing to let go of everything, and persistently struggle with ourselves, we will certainly attain accomplishment.

The sixth is wisdom. This refers to the great wisdom opened through dhyāna, by which one understands the prior causes and subsequent results of all things, and understands why all sentient beings are born and die. Speaking of birth and death, we are originally neither arising nor ceasing; there is no birth and death. Why, then, do birth and death continually appear before us now? It is because the consciousness-mind stirs delusively.

If we can encounter circumstances without giving rise to mental movement or thoughts, and do not pursue circumstances, there is no birth and death. Therefore, birth and death are illusory. Nowadays, many who practice the Buddhadharma cling to having somewhere to go at death, and even seek to know in advance where they will go.

In truth, once we have genuinely realized the Way, there is nowhere to go, because we have never died. We simply settle peacefully wherever we encounter circumstances, liberate sentient beings in accordance with conditions, and roam freely in the samādhi of playfulness—what destination could there be? Someone may say, “If you have awakened, you should know where you will go after death; this is called knowing your destination in advance. If you do not know your destination, then you have not realized the Way.”

This statement sounds quite correct, but it still requires careful examination. For when one has truly realized the Way, Buddha-nature pervades empty space and the dharma realm. It neither moves nor wavers; there is no coming or going. Every thing is its manifestation, and every place is its transformation. Where could it go? There is nowhere to go. If there were a place to go, would that not mean that one had never realized the Way?

Later in this book, two kinds of attainment are discussed. One is this: when the great light shines forth in the intermediate state at the time of death, if one can recognize that this light and the light emitted by the Buddha are one and not two, without any difference, then this is our own intrinsic nature. At that very moment, one is liberated and need not go anywhere.

The other is this: if our mind-capacity is small, and we do not dare to accept responsibility, not recognizing that this is Buddha-nature and the same essence-nature as that of all Buddhas, then we may take rebirth in the East or West in order to cultivate. Because one has not realized the Way, there is still somewhere to go. When we have truly realized the Way and attained accomplishment, there is no need to go anywhere.

There are four different teachings concerning nirvāṇa. The first is nirvāṇa of intrinsic nature. Our Buddha-nature is originally neither arising nor ceasing; it does not arise because the body is born, nor cease because the body dies. The intrinsic nature of all sentient beings is naturally so: originally neither arising nor ceasing, abiding throughout all antiquity. This is called nirvāṇa of intrinsic nature.

The second is nirvāṇa with remainder, realized by practitioners of the Lesser Vehicle. They have only resolved segmented birth and death (segmented birth and death is the birth and death of rebirth in the six realms; transformational birth and death is the arising and ceasing of thoughts). Their attachment to dharmas has not been removed; there is still a remainder left unresolved.

They still cling to the four great elements of earth, water, fire, and wind in dharmatā as self. Their thoughts have not yet been purified, and birth and death remain; hence it is called nirvāṇa with remainder. The third is the noble fruition realized by the Buddha, called nirvāṇa without remainder. Both attachment to personal self and the dharma-self view have been eliminated; person and dharmas are both empty, with not the slightest thing to be attained.

When both person and dharmas have been fully resolved, and the two forms of birth and death have both been relinquished—when transformational birth and death and segmented birth and death have both been fully resolved—this is nirvāṇa without remainder. The fourth is nirvāṇa without abiding anywhere. Without abiding anywhere means that there is no place in which to abide. There is no place that is not so; every place is so.

Therefore, when Śākyamuni Buddha departed, he said: “I have not left you. I am always before you; those whose eyes are pure can see me. Those whose eyes are clouded cannot see me.” We still have afflictions and attachments; this means that our eyes are impure. If afflictions and attachments are all gone and no deluded thoughts arise, then one has the pure dharma eye and can see the Buddha everywhere. Therefore, we should not cling to there being some particular location, some particular place. This is great wisdom opening forth in clouds; this is the six perfections and myriad practices.

To become Buddhas, we must follow the bodhisattva path, liberate sentient beings extensively, and accumulate merit and virtue; only then can we perfect the noble fruition. Otherwise, if merit and virtue are incomplete and our practice has not been fulfilled, we cannot become Buddhas. Following the bodhisattva path means liberating oneself and liberating others, awakening oneself and awakening others. “Bodhisattva” is Sanskrit, abbreviated in Chinese as “pusa.” Its Chinese semantic translation is “enlightened sentient being.”

This means awakening from and breaking through one’s own emotionally conditioned views, while enabling sentient beings to awaken as well. We all have emotionally conditioned views: we respect and cherish our own parents and children, but pay no attention to the parents and children of others. All this is the mischief of selfish affection. The love between men and women in particular is the very root of birth and death.

Why do we have these bodies? It is precisely because desire and love—because sexual desire between men and women—is intense that we have these foul bags of skin. So long as this desire and love continue, birth and death continue. “Enlightened sentient being” means awakening oneself and awakening others, liberating oneself and liberating others. This is the bodhisattva path.

Merely accomplishing the bodhisattva path is still not enough. One must cultivate over successive eons, advancing ever higher, and vow that all sentient beings will become Buddhas; only then can one perfectly realize Buddhahood. There are also many levels among bodhisattvas: the ten faiths, ten abodes, ten practices, ten dedications, ten bhūmis, and so forth. A great bodhisattva—a tenth-bhūmi bodhisattva—is still one level short of Buddhahood.

To give an analogy: when liberating sentient beings, a bodhisattva still retains the notion of entering and leaving the six realms, the notion of entering that realm and leaving this one. The Buddha, however, enters and leaves without entering or leaving, and liberates sentient beings without liberating them. This is the small difference between a Buddha and a great bodhisattva. Thus, when awakening and practice are complete—that is, when merit and virtue and wisdom are complete—one is a Buddha. Hence a Buddha is also called the “Honored One Complete in the Two,” the two being the complete fulfillment of merit and virtue and of wisdom. Awakening is great wisdom; practice is the merit and virtue of liberating sentient beings. Only when both awakening and practice are complete can one become a Buddha.

A Buddha fully possesses the three kāyas and four wisdoms. Of the three kāyas, the first is the dharmakāya, the second the sambhogakāya, and the third the nirmāṇakāya. What we cultivate now is all cultivation of the dharmakāya: we must open our Original Face and see the dharmakāya. Thus, whether it is the Pure Land school, the Chan school, or Esoteric Buddhism, all cultivate in order to realize and see the dharmakāya.

How is the sambhogakāya realized? Realizing the sambhogakāya is called differentiated wisdom: one must liberate sentient beings and accumulate merit and virtue. When we now open our Original Face and see the dharmakāya, this is fundamental wisdom; such is the root. Differentiated wisdom is obtained through liberating sentient beings.

Sentient beings have different dispositions. For example, some like spicy food, some like sweet food, and some like sour food; their tastes differ. Likewise, there are various differences in the study of Buddhism, such as ordinary beings’ Chan, Lesser Vehicle Chan, bodhisattva Chan, and Mahāyāna Chan. Sentient beings differ in capacity, and their aspirations also differ. Therefore, the dharmas they study differ as well.

When liberating sentient beings, if we have mastered all these dharma gates, we can respond to their capacities and act in accordance with conditions. We can then handle matters skillfully, without being out of place. By broadly forming wholesome affinities and doing all good deeds, when our merit and virtue are complete, we will bring about the sambhogakāya.

If we do nothing for sentient beings, where will our merit and virtue come from? If we do not benefit humankind and act only for ourselves, we are self-liberated persons and have no merit and virtue. As the saying goes, “Arhats receive meager offerings.” One who is liberated only for oneself cannot become a Buddha. Thus, the sambhogakāya is the karmic result obtained when the resolve is aroused at the causal stage and merit and virtue have been perfected.

The Avataṃsaka Sūtra explains this very clearly. When Sudhana saw the sambhogakāya of Maitreya Bodhisattva—Maitreya Bodhisattva of Tuṣita Heaven, of whom we speak—he exclaimed, “How majestic! How beautiful!” Maitreya Bodhisattva said to Sudhana: “You have attained fundamental wisdom, but have not yet attained differentiated wisdom; you do not yet have the sambhogakāya.”

“As for me, it is because I liberate sentient beings that my merit and virtue have become complete, bringing forth Maitreya’s Pavilion and this luminous sambhogakāya.” There are also two kinds of sambhogakāya: the self-enjoyment sambhogakāya and the other-enjoyment sambhogakāya.

The self-enjoyment sambhogakāya is the great body brought about by towering merit and virtue. The other-enjoyment sambhogakāya draws bodhisattvas to strive upward in practice; its size is not fixed. For lesser bodhisattvas, a lesser sambhogakāya appears; for great bodhisattvas, a great sambhogakāya appears. When bodhisattvas see this luminous and perfect sambhogakāya, it inspires courageous and diligent resolve, and they strive even harder, hoping soon to realize this beautiful sambhogakāya as well.

In the past, Śākyamuni Buddha saw another Buddha enter a luminous samādhi called the Fire-Light Samādhi. That Buddha’s bodily marks were incomparably splendid, and Śākyamuni greatly admired them, thinking, “I too want such a sambhogakāya!” He practiced diligently and made unceasing effort, thereby attaining accomplishment seven eons early. Thus, the time it takes a person to become a Buddha is not fixed.

We speak of becoming a Buddha in three great asaṃkhyeya eons. Asaṃkhyeya means an incalculable period of time. Its duration is not fixed; it depends on how we practice. If we apply ourselves with courageous diligence, the time is shorter. If we are lax and procrastinating, the time is longer.

The best example is Venerable Ānanda. He and Śākyamuni Buddha aroused the resolve to study Buddhism at the same time, yet by the time Śākyamuni Buddha had already become a Buddha of fruition, Venerable Ānanda had still not awakened. See how great the difference was. The Śūraṅgama Sūtra was taught in order to liberate Ānanda.

This shows that the timing of attainment depends on how we apply ourselves; laxness will not do. Venerable Ānanda was foremost in learning. He only enjoyed hearing how this Buddha taught and how that Buddha taught. He heard very, very much and possessed abundant knowledge, but he did not apply himself in practice, so it was ineffective. We must practice with courage and diligence; then the time will be shorter.

To realize the sambhogakāya and attain differentiated wisdom, one must liberate sentient beings. Otherwise, one can attain only the fruition of an arhat and will not obtain the sambhogakāya.

What about the nirmāṇakāya? The nirmāṇakāya is perfect and free, able to manifest transformations without obstruction. It appears in response to the capacities and conditions of sentient beings, as stated in the Universal Gateway Chapter of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva: “To those who can be liberated by the body of a lay practitioner, it manifests the body of a lay practitioner and teaches the Dharma; to those who can be liberated by the body of an official, it manifests the body of an official and teaches the Dharma.”

How does one realize the nirmāṇakāya? One must bring one’s practice to the point where the subtle continuous stream is cut off. What is this subtle continuous stream? It is the mental factor of intention—namely, attention—among the five universal mental factors taught by the Dharma Characteristics School: attention, contact, feeling, perception, and volition.

This attention is the worst of all: it is constantly discriminating, making distinctions about everything. Like a diver, it moves beneath deep water rather than on the surface, where it cannot be seen; and it moves with great speed. Only when we finally attain the Great Samādhi of Vajrasattva—that is, great samādhi—can we cut off this subtle continuous stream.

Then we can manifest hundreds of thousands of millions of transformation bodies and liberate hundreds of thousands of millions of sentient beings. To perfect the fruition of Buddhahood is to accomplish these three bodies. What are the four wisdoms? They are transformed from the eight consciousnesses; this is called transforming consciousness into wisdom: transforming the eighth consciousness into great perfect mirror wisdom, the seventh consciousness into the wisdom of equality, the sixth consciousness into wondrous observing wisdom, and the first five consciousnesses into the wisdom of accomplishing what is to be done.

The transformation of the eight consciousnesses into the four wisdoms proceeds in four steps: the sixth and seventh are transformed at the causal stage, while the eighth and fifth are perfected at the stage of fruition. Our present work of eliminating habitual tendencies amid circumstances is the transformation of the sixth and seventh consciousnesses. To transform the sixth consciousness is to transform our discriminating mind into a mind that does not discriminate but merely observes.

From birth, we like to make distinctions: this is one way, that is another way. We want what is good and reject what is bad; there are too many discriminations of self and others, right and wrong. We live amid discrimination all day long, so deluded thoughts fly about and we cannot transcend birth and death. The seventh consciousness is the transmitting consciousness. It is like the gatekeeper of an organization, transmitting to the eighth consciousness all the information sent by the first six consciousnesses.

The eighth consciousness is the storing consciousness. It is like our warehouse: it receives the information from the seventh consciousness and stores it within. The seeds in the eighth consciousness are innumerable—the seeds of many lives and kalpas are all within it. It is not easy to eliminate all these seeds; only a tenth-bhūmi bodhisattva can eradicate them completely. Therefore, we must diligently intensify our practice.

“The sixth and seventh are transformed at the causal stage” means that we must exert ourselves in transforming them during practice at the causal stage; only then can we proceed to transform the eighth and fifth consciousnesses and perfect the fruition of Buddhahood. In other words, only later are the eighth consciousness and the first five consciousnesses transformed into great perfect mirror wisdom, thereby fully realizing the fruition of Buddhahood.

At present, the eighth consciousness of all sentient beings is deluded: it takes hold of everything, good or bad, and refuses to let go. Upon becoming great perfect mirror wisdom, it merely reflects without stirring and no longer grasps. The first five consciousnesses are those of the eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body. They are directed outward.

We commonly say, “Of eight brothers, one is foolish.” The eighth consciousness is foolish: it accepts everything, whether good or bad. “Five conduct business before the gate” refers to our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body. The eye craves forms, the ear hears sounds, the nose smells fragrances, the tongue tastes flavors, and the body contacts objects. All are directed outward.

“One carries messages back and forth” refers to the seventh consciousness, which receives the information conveyed to it by the preceding six consciousnesses and sends it to the eighth consciousness to be stored. “One among them is the most keen and capable” refers to the sixth consciousness, whose power is greatest. Thus, only by perfecting the three bodies and four wisdoms can one become a Buddha. One does not become a Buddha merely upon realizing the Way; one is still far from it. One must practice diligently.

The foundation of Buddhism is Mahāyāna teaching, not Hīnayāna teaching. Hīnayāna teaching is for oneself; Mahāyāna teaching is for everyone. “May sentient beings attain Buddhahood before I do”—this is the aspiration of a great-resolve bodhisattva. All of you should become Buddhas first; I shall become a Buddha last. This is how one should arouse the resolve.

People today do not think this way. Let alone Buddhahood, even for a small benefit they scramble to get ahead: “Oh! I am first, I am first!” When lining up, they want to stand first and get there before everyone else. This is the mind of ordinary beings. Therefore, in studying Buddhism, one’s mind-capacity must be great; the greater it is, the sooner one will become a Buddha. One must arouse a great resolve in order to accord with Buddhism’s spirit of serving the Dharma and benefiting others.

The principles discussed above are readily known to Buddhists, but how is the problem of birth and death to be resolved? Where does one begin in studying Buddhism? These questions leave many Buddhist practitioners at a loss. Some elderly men and women know only to recite the Buddha’s name and burn incense; they do not understand this question.

Others gain a little experience or indication through diligent seated meditation and then seek instruction from certain masters. The masters say, “I am sorry, I do not know and dare not speak carelessly.” They dare not explain, because they themselves have not practiced the Dharma and lack accomplishment. How, then, could they know how the problem of birth and death is resolved? In fact, Buddhism explains these principles very clearly.

One way is vertical transcendence of the three realms—the desire realm, form realm, and formless realm. Through studying Chan or Esoteric Buddhism, one eliminates one’s clinging habitual tendencies, greed, anger, and ignorance, and thereby leaves them behind. The other is horizontal transcendence of the three realms: studying the Pure Land school and practicing Buddha-recitation, seeking the Buddha’s compassionate guidance for rebirth in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Thus, many people study Chan, Pure Land, Esoteric Buddhism, and so forth. They know where to begin, but how certain are they of becoming Buddhas? They have not deeply understood Buddhism’s profound principles, so naturally they do not know.

As for whether one has such certainty, there is in fact a way to test it: verify it at two extremes. One is when favorable circumstances bring success and everything goes smoothly according to one’s wishes; the other is when adverse circumstances bring afflictions, nothing goes as one wishes, and one meets misfortune and failure everywhere.

In favorable circumstances, can the mind remain unmoved, without becoming so delighted that one loses all composure, while Buddha-remembrance still remains foremost? In adverse circumstances and afflictions, can one likewise remain free of unbearable anxiety and resentment, with Buddha-remembrance still foremost? If one can accomplish these two things, then at the time of death a practitioner of Buddha-recitation can be completely certain of rebirth in the Western Pure Land.

If, upon encountering favorable circumstances, one becomes carried away and forgets oneself, unable even to bring up the Buddha’s name and knowing only pleasure and enjoyment; and if, upon encountering adverse circumstances and afflictions, one suffers unbearably and cannot bring up the Buddha’s name, then one has no certainty of rebirth in the West.

Perhaps someone may ask, “That does not seem right. When our intermediate-state body emerges after death, will not the Buddha come to guide us? Would that not make rebirth certain?” Ah, you must know that the Buddha does not speak lies, falsehoods, or deceptive words. The Buddha will certainly come to guide us.

Yet because of our inverted views, afflictions, and attachments, we are like people drunk on strong wine—dazed and confused. When the Buddha comes to guide us, we cannot see him. How, then, can we go? Therefore, Master Lianchi said, “Many recite the Buddha’s name, but few are reborn in the West.” Master Lianchi was a great master of the Pure Land school; he would not have lied merely to frighten people.

Why are there “many who recite the Buddha’s name, but few who are reborn in the West”? It is because their minds are not earnest and heartfelt in Buddha-recitation.

They recite the Buddha’s name with their mouths, while their minds and thoughts continue to race about, thinking of this and that. We see many elderly women and men who, while reciting the Buddha’s name, still gossip about the affairs of one family or another. What effect can such Buddha-recitation have? They lack one-pointed Buddha-recitation, and their thoughts remain very scattered.

Therefore, Śākyamuni Buddha taught us: “Hold fast to the name for one day, two days, or even seven days, with one-pointedness of mind without distraction; then that Buddha will appear before you.”

If we can attain one-pointedness of mind without distraction, we will see the Buddha appear before us. But if our minds are in a state of confusion, we will not see the Buddha even if he comes. Chan Master Yongming Shou explained this very clearly: “The mind of one who recites the Buddha’s name is like a basin of water, while the Buddha is like the moon in the sky.” When the water becomes clear and pure, the moon appears within it.

When our minds are confused, it is like this basin of turbid water: the moon cannot appear, and neither can we see the Buddha. The Buddha comes from nowhere and goes nowhere; it is only when an image appears in our minds that he is called the Tathāgata.

When the pure karma of a Pure Land practitioner matures and rebirth is near, the Buddha’s image arises in that person’s mind. When we recite Amitābha Buddha, the Buddha manifests in the West in response to us; this is called the communion of response and accord. The Buddha’s manifestation in guiding sentient beings also has grades, for according to one’s accomplishment, the form one sees differs. Thus, rebirth in the West is divided into nine grades. Those of the lowest grade can see only a nirmāṇakāya Buddha; those of the middle grade see a sambhogakāya Buddha; only those of the highest grade can see a dharmakāya Buddha—that is, the Buddha of the Land of Eternal Quiescent Light.

There are three kinds of actual realization in practice for transcending birth and death. First, one must truly be able not to follow a thought when it arises: as soon as a thought arises, it dissolves without the slightest pause, like drawing on water. With a single stroke upon water, the water closes again, leaving not the slightest image or trace.

Like a bird crossing the vast sky, leaving no track of its flight, one can thereby attain freedom at the threshold of birth and death: one can go wherever one wishes, is not controlled by karmic force, and has mastery over taking rebirth. Second, amid the two conditions discussed earlier—the favorable and the adverse—one remains completely ordinary and the mind does not stir in the least.

When our minds do not delight in what is good or become troubled by what is not good, then segmented birth and death is ended. Therefore, for those who have just awakened through Chan inquiry, segmented birth and death has not yet ended.

Why? Because their habitual tendencies are strong and have not yet been eliminated; their minds still cannot avoid giving rise to feelings in response to circumstances. In the doctrinal teachings, this is called the failure to eliminate thought-delusions; therefore segmented birth and death has not ended. For this reason, Pure Land practitioners criticize the Chan school, saying that although Chan practitioners have awakened, their segmented birth and death has not ended, and Pure Land is more secure and reliable. This is because thought-delusions have not yet been cut off.

The doctrinal teachings divide the coarse aspect of ignorance into view-delusions and thought-delusions. Thought-delusions are the mind’s arising in response to objects and circumstances; view-delusions are erroneous views. Once one recognizes what is the right path and what is the wrong path, what is true and what is false, no longer takes the wrong path, and no longer clings with inverted views, then view-delusions have been eliminated.

The afflictions of views are easy to sever, but the afflictions of thought are difficult to sever! Habitual tendencies always make people love what they see as good and hate and become troubled by what they see as bad. The mind lacks equanimity; it is constantly stirred by delusion, and abiding attachments are hard to relinquish. Therefore, one cannot transcend birth and death, but must continue to revolve in the six realms, unable to escape birth and death. When one accomplishes the first kind—when thoughts arise, do not follow them—one can attain mastery over taking rebirth.

“Taking rebirth” means being able to choose one’s rebirth: going wherever one wishes, to the West if one wishes to go West, or to the East if one wishes to go East. One is no longer bound by karmic forces and can be one’s own master. When one accomplishes the second kind—when the mind is not carried away by circumstances—one attains mastery of transformation and is liberated from the two forms of birth-and-death—segmented and transformational.

The third kind is the cessation of the subtle continuous stream: everything dissolves into emptiness, and only the great wisdom of perfect enlightenment appears before one. Then one can manifest countless transformation bodies and liberate countless sentient beings. This is the true verification attained by all who exert themselves in practice and realize the Way. Our practice of the Heart-of-Heart Dharma is like Chan meditation: both begin with the eighth consciousness and work on the mind-ground.

This differs from other forms of Esoteric Buddhism, and so it is called Chan-Esoteric practice. It is of one breath with the Chan school, though its initial method of practice differs slightly. Heart esotericism uses six mudrās and one mantra to open up one’s original nature; it then employs the Chan method of safeguarding realization, diligently removing habitual tendencies, constantly observing the mind, and remaining aware in every circumstance. In this way, it accords with Chan.

Once contemplation has become fully mature, one realizes that quiescence is ever illuminating and illumination is ever quiescent. Having returned home and seated oneself securely, there is no longer any need to maintain awareness or to contemplate. Only this is the true final assurance in all practices. Such practice is easy to speak of, but to accomplish it in truth still requires some effort. Without making some effort, you cannot accomplish it.

To speak of it without being able to do it means that one understands only principle but cannot put it into practice; this is of no use. Therefore, along the path of practice there are four distinct stages: the dharma realm of phenomena, the dharma realm of principle, the dharma realm in which principle and phenomena interpenetrate, and the dharma realm of the nonobstruction among phenomena. The dharma realm of the nonobstruction among phenomena means that no matter what one does, there is no obstruction; one can go anywhere. Yet one must go a step further and not establish even the conception of the nonobstruction among phenomena. Only then is one a true Chan practitioner, one who truly realizes the mind and sees one’s true nature. This is the foundation for resolving the problem of birth and death, and the key to attaining Buddhahood!