Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, perception, formation, or consciousness. There are no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas; no eye realm, up to and including no consciousness realm. There is no ignorance, nor is there the ending of ignorance; up to and including no aging and death, nor is there the ending of aging and death. There is no suffering, origination, cessation, or path; no wisdom and no attainment. Because there is nothing to attain.

Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, perception, formation, or consciousness. Out of great loving-kindness and great compassion, the Buddha wished to remind us not to cling to appearances, lest we suffer the pain of rebirth in the six realms. He therefore admonished us, saying: “Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, perception, formation, or consciousness.” This sentence continues from the preceding passage and is an emphatic statement.

The Buddha feared that the disciples at the Dharma assembly, as well as disciples of later generations, might still not understand the unity of material dharmas and mental dharmas, of appearances with form and appearances without form. He therefore emphasized once more that, in wondrous presence and true emptiness, no appearance of form can be spoken of. Since the material dharmas of appearances with form do not exist, the mental dharmas of appearances without form have no basis on which to arise and likewise do not exist. This is reasoning from one instance to the rest. Once one point is understood, the others follow without saying; there is no need to explain each one in detail.

“No feeling, perception, formation, or consciousness”: the five aggregates encompass all dharmas. Since “all dharmas are marked by emptiness” and not a single dharma can be obtained, the five aggregates naturally do not exist either. These dharmas of the five aggregates as a whole are not the essence but function. They are harmful things that cover the luminosity of our true nature. Yet, conversely, they are also wondrous functioning.

Ordinary beings, sages of the two vehicles, bodhisattvas, and even all Buddhas cannot do without the wondrous functioning of the five aggregates. Wondrous functioning and deluded action are separated only by a hair’s breadth. Wondrous functioning responds to conditions without abiding, whereas deluded action clings to appearances and stagnates. Ordinary beings give rise to mind wherever they encounter objects and ceaselessly grasp at conditions; thus, they turn wondrous functioning instead into deluded mind, deluded thoughts, deluded action, and deluded conduct. We have already discussed this in the earlier explanation of the five aggregates.

Further below, the Buddha again admonishes us:

No eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas. The Heart Sūtra is a teaching of the One Vehicle; it teaches us the direct path to Buddhahood. To become a Buddha, one must eradicate all the ordinary person’s clinging and bad habits, eliminate the selfishness of material desire, and only then advance ever higher. This is like carrying out a revolution: one first begins at the lowest level, then advances and expands step by step, in order to bring the work to complete fulfillment.

Therefore, the Buddha first begins by transforming the life of ordinary beings, emptying the dharmas of the ordinary person’s “twelve bases” (the six sense faculties and six sense objects), and admonishes us: “No eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind [the six sense faculties]; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas [the six sense objects].”

This scriptural sentence continues from the preceding sentence, “Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, perception, formation, or consciousness,” which in turn is an emphatic continuation of “all dharmas are marked by emptiness: neither arising nor ceasing, neither defiled nor pure, neither increasing nor decreasing.”

Since all dharmas are marked by emptiness, without arising or ceasing, defilement or purity, increase or decrease, and since the dharmas of the five aggregates do not exist, the dharmas of the twelve bases naturally disappear along with them. Of the six sense faculties—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—those capable of producing are called “faculties.” Faculties can produce branches and leaves: the eye faculty can produce eye consciousness, the ear faculty can produce ear consciousness, and so on, up to the mind faculty, which can produce consciousness.

Among the six sense faculties, the five faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body are physiological organs possessed by the body. They are composed of matter and have form; they are therefore material faculties. The mind faculty belongs to the operations of thought and spirit, has no form, and is therefore a mental faculty. Material faculties are also called “floating-dust faculties,” while the mental faculty is also called the “faculty of ultimate meaning.”

Since the body is a provisional combination of the four great elements, empty and devoid of anything whatsoever, how could the six sense faculties exist? The body, including these five physiological faculties, is formed through the union of the parents’ essence and blood. It exists through the convergence of causes and conditions; what arises through conditions is empty in nature, without self-nature or substantial reality, like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, or a shadow—utterly unobtainable. Hence it is said, “No eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind.” “No” means “empty”: that is, all six sense faculties are empty. Emptying the floating-dust faculties and the faculty of ultimate meaning enables one to break attachment to self and realize the principle of the emptiness of self.

“No forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas” means that the six sense objects are all empty. Sense objects are also called “objects of experience”; they can defile the mind’s nature, like dust, so that one’s Original Face is covered by the six sense objects and cannot appear. Though the myriad dharmas are many, they are all manifested through the four great elements. This includes the insentient material world, such as mountains, rivers, earth, the sun, moon, stars, grasses, trees, and forests.

It also includes the sentient world of living beings, such as human beings, birds, and beasts. In summary, these are no more than the six sense objects of forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and dharmas.

The object of form is any object in the sentient and material worlds, manifested by the four great elements and encountered by the eye faculty, whose substance is appearance; the object of sound is any object in the sentient and material worlds, manifested by the four great elements and encountered by the ear faculty, whose substance is sound; the object of smell is any object in the sentient and material worlds, manifested by the four great elements and encountered by the nose faculty, whose substance is odors; and the object of taste is an object encountered by the tongue faculty.

It is an object in the sentient and material worlds, manifested by the four great elements, whose substance is the various tastes. The object of touch is an object in the sentient and material worlds, manifested by the four great elements and encountered by the body faculty, whose substance is tactile sensation. The object of dharmas is the residual image left behind and stored in the ground of mind when, as each of the five faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body encounters an object, the mind faculty follows by discriminating it.

The object of dharmas encompasses everything in the world that has form and appearance, as well as everything that is formless and without appearance. For example, although the objects of form once seen by the eyes, sounds once heard by the ears, tastes once sampled by the tongue, and the other objects of the five sense objects have long since passed, they can still arise in the mind as memories; or, upon encountering them again, one can immediately distinguish them.

The retention of these memories is called the object of dharmas. It is what the mind conceives and is the cause of the arising of thoughts. When the five faculties encounter objects, they often draw them into the mind faculty, where discrimination arises; the mind faculty has the function of discriminating. For example, when the eye faculty encounters form, there is an appearance of form because of the corresponding discrimination of the six faculties. Because the ear discriminates, there is an appearance of sound.

Because the tongue discriminates, there is an appearance of taste, and so forth. Whenever any one faculty arises, the mind faculty simultaneously responds by discriminating; from this arise forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and dharmas. If, when the five faculties encounter objects, the mind faculty does not discriminate, one may look without seeing, listen without hearing, and eat without knowing the taste. Then there are no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas.

It is like a mirror reflecting objects: when objects depart, the mirror is empty; when objects come, the mirror reflects them. This means that when the first five faculties encounter objects, the mind faculty does not follow by discriminating. This is direct perception rather than inferential perception. If one does not cling to or abide in the illusory appearances encountered by the five faculties, this is the realm without appearance. In this way, one empties the floating-dust faculties and enters the wondrous functioning of the faculty of ultimate meaning, thereby giving rise to the prajñā contemplation of wisdom. Moreover, if even the six sense faculties just discussed are empty, how could there be six sense objects? Hence, there are no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas.

No eye realm, up to and including no consciousness realm. Since the six sense faculties and six sense objects are empty, the six consciousnesses are also empty and devoid of anything whatsoever.

As we have already explained, eye consciousness, ear consciousness, nose consciousness, tongue consciousness, body consciousness, and consciousness—the six consciousnesses—belong to mental dharmas. For them to arise, they must rely inwardly on a faculty and harmonize outwardly with a sense object. When faculty and object meet, they discriminate the image received; from this conjunction consciousness arises. Consciousness cannot arise from either side in isolation.

For example, a faculty or sense object alone, or the first five faculties encountering the five sense objects without discrimination, does not constitute consciousness. Maitreya Bodhisattva said: “Discrimination is consciousness; non-discrimination is wisdom.” When the eye faculty encounters the object of form, eye consciousness arises; this is called the eye-consciousness realm. The same applies to the others. The six sense faculties, six sense objects, and six consciousnesses are collectively called the “eighteen realms.”

Like the six sense faculties and six sense objects, the six consciousnesses all arise through the convergence of many conditions. What arises through conditions is empty in nature; none is ultimate reality. All are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; all are illusory images within the light of our true nature, images of mind-light. They are all shadows, arising and ceasing, impermanent, and in their very substance empty and devoid of anything whatsoever. Therefore they are called “no.”

But this “no” is not the “nonexistence” opposed to existence that ordinary beings perceive. It is not barren emptiness, still less the annihilationist emptiness grasped by non-Buddhist paths. Nor is it the true emptiness reached through analytical contemplation of dharmas by the Lesser Vehicle, or the true emptiness of dharmas realized by bodhisattvas. Rather, it is the essential nature of the Buddhas’ wondrous presence and true emptiness. This wondrous essence of true emptiness—utterly bare and not establishing a single dharma—is not possessed by Buddhas alone; ordinary beings equally possess it in full. Alas, ordinary beings mistakenly take these eighteen realms to be real and obstinately cling to them as truly existing dharmas, causing this wondrous essence to remain unmanifest. How tragic and lamentable!

“No eye realm, up to and including no consciousness realm.” This is an abbreviated expression; the eighteen realms are not stated one by one. “Realm” means a boundary. No eye realm means no boundary of eye consciousness. The inner six sense faculties and outer six sense objects give rise to the six consciousnesses when faculty and object meet: three sets of six make eighteen, hence the name eighteen realms.

Originally there are no boundaries; boundaries arise solely because of clinging to appearances. “Originally one essential luminosity is divided into six harmonizing functions.” In fact, all are functions of one numinous and luminous true nature; they can be used interchangeably and have no boundaries.

But because ordinary beings cling to appearances, the eye faculty grasps its self-nature as that which sees and can only see, not hear; the ear faculty grasps its self-nature as that which hears and can only hear, not see. Thus, they divide one great treasure as a whole into separate domains, and boundaries arise.

If we understand this truth, eliminate the deluded mind, cling to nothing, abide in no appearances, and give rise to no discrimination, we can restore the luminosity of our true nature. Once the functions of our true nature have been restored, we can break through these boundaries and the six sense faculties can function interchangeably. Nowadays, some people with extraordinary abilities can recognize writing with their ears—that is, they can see—and can hear with their eyes. This is the principle involved.

Therefore, although there appear to be boundaries and distinct functions, in essence they are like a hundred rivers branching into streams yet all returning to a single source. If one can clearly understand that “existence is precisely nonexistence,” then all dharmas are the true mark of true emptiness. Without boundaries there is no bondage; without bondage one suddenly transcends the eighteen realms.

Therefore, in our cultivation, we do not necessarily have to proceed from the Lesser Vehicle to the Mahāyāna, ascending gradually level by level. As long as we can realize that “all dharmas are marked by emptiness,” realize our true nature, and recognize that the eighteen realms are all manifestations of that true nature, we can enter the sacred from the ordinary, give rise to wondrous functioning in accordance with conditions, and freely attain Buddhahood. This is why sages of the Lesser Vehicle do not equal ordinary beings of great capacity.

The Buddha says in the Heart Sūtra: “There are no such eighteen realms.” Yet ordinary beings will not acknowledge or accept this, no matter what. Because they all cling to the physical body as the self, they have the seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing of the six faculties, such as the eye and ear. Where there is that which sees, there is what is seen; hence there are the corresponding six sense objects, such as forms and sounds. When faculties and objects confront one another, there arise the six consciousnesses, such as eye consciousness and ear consciousness.

Ordinary beings all cling to these eighteen realms as truly existing dharmas. Thus, deluded about the true and clinging to the false, they are bound and perplexed by the eighteen realms. With the eye, they see brightness and darkness, beauty and ugliness; with the ear, they hear movement and stillness, noise and clamor; with the nose, they smell fragrance and stench, openness and blockage; with the tongue, they taste sourness, sweetness, bitterness, and pungency; with the body, they feel cold and warmth, smoothness and roughness; with the mind, they distinguish love and hate, acceptance and rejection.

They are bound by these eighteen realms in earning a living, rising and resting, eating and drinking, and so forth. Throughout the day and night, they are either attached to forms through the eye or attached to sounds through the ear; either attached to fragrances through the nose or attached to flavors through the tongue. At every moment, they make discriminations in consciousness without cease. From morning to night, they busily labor amid sense objects like flowers in empty space and the moon reflected in water, and both body and mind are bound and burdened by worldly toil. Not only are they never peaceful and free during the day; even in dreams at night, they are often alarmed and distressed without respite by illusory fame and profit.

Since people living in the world cling to false appearances, take them to be truly existent, and mistake the false for the true, there is no one who does not covet desirable objects. Whatever sense objects they like, they seek to possess. To obtain them, action is unavoidable. And in acting, it is absolutely impossible not to create karma.

For example, those who love wealth and lust after beauty often stop at nothing to obtain what they desire; they may commit any act that violates heaven and reason. Once their breathing stops and they fall into a sleep from which they never awaken, they cannot take away a single thing that they had constantly thought of and could not bear to part with. In the end, they depart empty-handed.

Is this not a nightmare in which one toils all one’s life and gains nothing at all? Yet there is one thing that cannot be cast off: the wholesome or unwholesome karma one has created. It follows you closely and will not let you leave empty-handed; however much you may wish to discard it, you cannot. An ancient worthy said: “Nothing can be taken with us; only our karma follows us.”

According to the differing degrees of each person’s greed, anger, and ignorance—the three poisons—and the amount of wholesome and unwholesome karma they have created, they undergo the karmic results of rebirth in the six realms. Those in whom greed, anger, and ignorance predominate, and who possess all three poisons, fall into hell.

Those in whom greed predominates are reborn in the realm of hungry ghosts. Hungry ghosts have enormous bellies, but their throats are as thin as wheat stalks; moreover, fire issues from their mouths, so they cannot eat. This is caused by craving. Those in whom ignorance predominates are reborn in the animal realm. Animals are not as intelligent as humans; they are ignorant. Those in whom anger predominates are reborn in the realm of asuras. Asuras have great anger, delight in fighting, and flare up at the slightest provocation.

Those with lesser degrees of greed, anger, and ignorance are reborn in the human realm, which likewise contains all three poisons. Those with a lesser degree of greed are reborn in the heavenly realms. Thus, Buddha-nature, originally so excellent—neither arising nor ceasing, neither defiled nor pure, neither increasing nor decreasing—is unjustly bound and dragged by these deluded karmas into the six realms of rebirth to undergo suffering.

Out of compassion, the Buddha manifested in the human world and taught us the Heart Sūtra, instructing us not to cling to the various deluded minds of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind. He enables us to understand that all these are illusory images, utterly unobtainable, and manifestations of our own nature. He enables us to awaken thoroughly and become Buddhas at once.

If we nevertheless remain stubbornly deluded, cling to appearances and make distinctions, lose sight of our original nature, and follow the flow of sense objects, then when the eye sees forms, we obstinately distinguish brightness from darkness and beauty from ugliness, and the “seeing-nature” consequently becomes obscured; when the ear hears sounds, we obstinately distinguish good sounds from bad, and the “hearing-nature” is lost amid the sounds; when the nose smells odors, we obstinately distinguish fragrance from stench, openness from blockage, and the faculty of smelling

likewise becomes obscured; when the tongue tastes flavors, we obstinately distinguish sourness, sweetness, bitterness, and pungency, and the “tasting-nature” is thereby lost; when the body contacts objects, we obstinately distinguish pain, itchiness, aching, and numbness, and the “awareness-nature” follows along with them. All this comes from not understanding the wondrous functioning of our original nature, giving rise to false discriminations, and following the flow of circumstances. Thus we lose sight of our original nature and sink into the bitter sea of birth and death.

As stated above, the eighteen realms are the collective name for the six faculties, six sense objects, and six consciousnesses. To explain them separately and in detail would require much space and could easily confuse people. We may instead offer a general explanation of the eye faculty alone, which may serve as an example for the rest. The eye faculty is distinguished as the material faculty and the superior faculty.

The material faculty is the visible physiological organ of the human body—the eye. The superior faculty is further divided into the “perceiving aspect” and the “object aspect.” The perceiving aspect is the function of seeing and illuminating objects; it apprehends the object aspect that it itself has transformed.

For example, the eye can see things. This capacity for seeing is the perceiving aspect of the superior faculty. It is formless and without appearance; it is what is called the seeing-nature—the nature that is able to see. The object aspect is the external realm transformed and manifested by consciousness, namely the realm appearing within the mind. When the mind arises, its appearances emerge before it; these are the objects that we see.

The reason our eyes can see things is that the seeing-nature—the capacity for seeing—of the superior faculty functions through the material faculty, the eyes. Through the object aspect, there appear all manner of forms and appearances: mountains, rivers, and lands; light and darkness; long and short, square and round; blue, yellow, red, and white.

Yet because we do not understand this truth, from this single act of “seeing” we become deluded and cling to these appearances as truly existent. “Have you seen it?” is an everyday expression, but it contains a profound meaning: it reveals ordinary beings’ inferior propensity to cling to appearances. Seeing and becoming attached—once they see, they cling.

Once they see an object, they become attached to it and cannot break free; birth and death begin from this. When one sees the lights of countless homes shining brilliantly at night, this is an appearance of light. If all the lights go out together and the land is pitch-black, this is an appearance of darkness. Thus, brightness and darkness arise and cease. All forms and appearances—mountains, rivers, lands, and everything else—arise and cease. Once people cling to these arising-and-ceasing appearances, their deluded minds likewise arise and cease without stop, and so they cannot escape birth and death.

Earlier, we often used a mirror and its reflections as an analogy. Once a mirror has been made, it can reflect objects; mountains, rivers, lands, and all the myriad forms can reveal their images in its light. The fault of ordinary beings lies in taking the reflections to be truly existent while knowing nothing at all of the mirror’s light.

How could they know that reflections may be seen but cannot be grasped, that they change in an instant, and that they are entirely dharmas of arising and ceasing? Only the mirror’s light is the wondrous substance that is truly constant and unchanging. That is to say, whatever arises and ceases is worldly toil, whereas self-nature is without interruption, without coming or going. From this we may know that the nature which is able to see exists eternally.

There is a saying in the Chan school: “Clearly, it is always before one’s face; yet when we meet it, we do not recognize it.” This means that ordinary beings do not recognize at all the nature that constantly shines forth at the gateways of the six faculties.

They use it every day to see objects, yet become attached to external objects and make distinctions: “What is this? What is that?” They do not know what it is that is able to see. It is like recognizing only the reflections while failing to recognize the mirror’s light. Time flies like an arrow; even if one lives beyond a hundred years, it passes in the blink of an eye.

Although beings in the heavenly realms live far longer than humans, they too cannot escape death. While alive, the eye faculty can see objects; after death, the eyes remain, but their function is entirely lost. The only thing that abides permanently and does not perish is the “seeing-nature”—the nature that is able to see.

The great trouble of human beings lies in their ignorance. Once the eye sees an appearance, they are drawn along by it, lose sight of the “seeing-nature,” and unknowingly create karma and undergo karmic retribution. They do not realize that what sees objects is not the eye but the nature; the eye is merely an instrument used by that nature. Just as an electric lamp emits light because its power comes from electricity, not from the bulb itself.

If one can thoroughly awaken to this nature that is able to see and recognize that its fundamental substance is an empty appearance, then deluded thoughts immediately vanish, one realizes the mind and sees one’s true nature, and liberation is attained at once. The difference between ordinary beings and sages lies entirely in whether they recognize their own original nature. Such is the seeing-nature; the hearing-nature, smelling-nature, tasting-nature, awareness-nature, and knowing-nature are no different. The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: “When one faculty returns to its source, all six faculties are liberated.” From this discussion of the eye faculty, the rest may be inferred.

The Buddha cautioned us: “No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables, or dharmas; no eye realm, up to and including no mind-consciousness realm.” He thereby enables us to understand that all things with form and appearance, all that are made and conditioned, are illusory images—empty appearances that cannot be grasped.

He teaches us to awaken, not to cling to appearances, and to let go of everything, so that we may restore the originally pure and undefiled luminosity of our self-nature. To transform from ordinary beings into sages, we must thoroughly see through these eighteen realms. If we understand this principle, then we will comprehend every dharma, and the profound meanings of all Mahāyāna sūtras will be resolved with ease. Now that we study Buddhism and understand this important principle, we should promptly begin cultivation and put what we learn into practice. To learn without practicing is the same as not having learned.

Śākyamuni Buddha had long since attained Buddhahood, yet in order to liberate sentient beings universally, he manifested as the crown prince of King Śuddhodana. At nineteen, he left home; he practiced austerities in the Snow Mountains for six years; and at thirty, beneath the bodhi tree, he awakened to the Way upon seeing the morning star at night.

When the World-Honored One looked up and saw a great star appear in the east, in a single instant he realized that it is not the eyes that see, but the seeing-nature that reaches everywhere without limit. He immediately awakened and realized Buddhahood. “All sentient beings are the same as I; why can they not realize the Way? It is because they are obscured by deluded thoughts and attachments.” Therefore he exclaimed: “How wondrous! All sentient beings possess the wisdom and virtuous characteristics of the Tathāgata, but because of deluded thoughts and attachments, they cannot realize them.” Because ordinary beings do not recognize their original nature, they are manipulated by the reflections of the six sense objects. Ignorantly clinging without knowing it, they are truly pitiable.

Having understood the principle of the absence of the eighteen realms, we should not look outward in our cultivation and study, nor should we cling to external objects. Rather, we should constantly turn the light inward and attend to our own original nature. What is it that is able to see, hear, smell, taste, feel, and know? Once we recognize this true master, it is like encountering one’s own father at a crossroads.

The creator of all that exists in the universe is none other than ourselves—our true mind, the dharmakāya—not some God or heavenly deity. Mountains and rivers, the great earth, sun, moon, and stars, grasses, trees, and forests, men and women, young and old, even eating, drinking, and everyday life: all, without exception, are functions of self-nature and manifestations of true nature.

Although this protagonist is an all-capable entity that manifests forms in response to conditions, producing phenomena of a thousand differences and ten thousand variations, it is itself empty in nature and without form. Precisely because it is empty in nature and without form, it can take shape in response to things and function according to conditions. Otherwise, it could not give rise to the myriad dharmas or manifest forms and functions. A mirror, for example, can reflect images precisely because there is nothing in it.

Otherwise, how could it reflect a Hu when a Hu comes before it, or a Han when a Han comes before it? Take a room as another example: if it were not empty but filled with things, how could anything else be moved into it? Thus, precisely because its nature is empty, it can manifest everything.

Only when we cultivate the practice and realize true nature do we understand the truth stated in the Diamond Sūtra: “All appearances are illusory.” Only then do we understand the principle taught in this sūtra: “No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, or dharmas; no eye-realm, up to and including no mind-consciousness realm.”

When we can see intrinsic nature through phenomena, we know that the eighteen realms of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind, and so forth have never truly existed. They are all wondrous functions that the true mind temporarily manifests in response to conditions. If we cling to circumstances and grasp at appearances, we fail to see that which sees and see only that which is seen. Then we cannot empty out the eighteen realms of faculties, objects, and consciousnesses.

Chan Master Dongshan Liangjie, founding patriarch of the Caodong school, left home at an early age. While reading the Heart Sūtra with his teacher, he came to the words, “No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind.” He suddenly touched his face and asked, “I plainly have eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. Why does the Heart Sūtra say that there are none?” His teacher was startled and had no answer.

Like us ordinary beings, his teacher clung to appearances and circumstances, seeing only what was seen and failing to understand that which sees; thus he still did not understand the meaning of the sūtra. Ashamed that he was unable to teach him, he said, “I cannot answer your question and cannot be your teacher. I will direct you to Wuxie Mountain, where you should pay homage to Chan Master Lingmo and ask him to guide you.”

Dongshan then followed Chan Master Lingmo in the practice of Chan. At the age of twenty-one, he began traveling in search of instruction. The first master he visited was Chan Master Nanquan, a leading disciple of Mazu. When Chan Master Liangjie arrived at Nanquan’s place, it happened to be the anniversary of Mazu’s death. To commemorate his teacher, Nanquan wished to hold a vegetarian offering.

Nanquan asked the assembly, “Tomorrow we will hold a vegetarian offering for Mazu. I wonder whether Mazu will come.” Pay close attention here to the word “come.” Buddha-nature is neither arising nor ceasing, neither coming nor going. Once there is coming or going, one falls into illusory appearances rather than true reality. It was extremely important that Chan Master Nanquan spoke in this way: attend to the present moment.

After the question was raised, no one could answer, for either “coming” or “not coming” would be wrong; both fall into the two sides. When Chan masters speak in this way, they mean to leave no place to settle. It is a double-edged sword: one edge kills, the other brings to life. There can be no point of attachment; once there is one, it is no longer so. At this point Chan Master Liangjie stepped out from the assembly and said to Patriarch Nanquan, “When there is a companion, he will come.”

Everything in the world is governed by duality and relativity. Because of this duality, all is false. There is small only because there is large, and bad only because there is good. Without large, how could there be small? Without good, how could there be bad? Therefore, whatever is relative arises and ceases, and is false. Only what is absolute is true.

Coming and going are both marks of arising and ceasing. The absolute true mind neither comes nor goes; it neither arises nor ceases. Thus Dongshan said, “When there is a companion, he will come.” On hearing this, Nanquan said that although this young man was young, he was highly capable of being refined.

This meant that although Dongshan was still young, only in his twenties, and though no one in the assembly could utter a word, he had stepped forward and spoken. His answer was not yet thorough, for it still involved the duality of coming and going, but with refinement he could become a great vessel. After Liangjie heard Chan Master Nanquan’s words, however, he replied that the venerable monk should not treat Liangjie as lowly.

That is, he meant: I am originally a promising adult, not a lowly servant. In other words, intrinsic nature is originally Buddha; there is no distinction between true and false.

Since there is neither true nor false, and things are originally thus and originally Buddha, what is there to cultivate or realize? From Chan Master Liangjie’s statement, we can see that he had already awakened to the natural innocence of intrinsic nature, which does not depend on cultivation or realization.

Yet this was not ultimate. He had not turned himself around or thoroughly awakened to the fact that the five aggregates comprise all material and mental dharmas; that form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are wondrous presence and true emptiness; and that all faculties, objects, and consciousnesses are wondrous functions of the true mind. Liangjie knew only that the dharmakāya is formless and without appearance, but did not know that having appearance is itself having no appearance. Therefore, his realization was neither complete nor ultimate.

Later, Chan Master Dongshan Liangjie went to study with Chan Master Guishan. He said, “I recently heard that National Teacher Nanyang Zhong spoke of ‘the insentient expounding the Dharma,’ but I have not fathomed its subtle meaning.” “The insentient” means the material world—bricks, tiles, mountains, rivers, and the great earth. “Not fathomed its subtle meaning” means that he did not understand its profound and mysterious purport.

He therefore asked Chan Master Guishan to explain the Dharma to him. Guishan said, “Ācārya, do you still remember this koan of the insentient expounding the Dharma?” Ācārya here means “monk.” Chan Master Guishan’s words were not innocuous either. If you were a person of accomplishment, you would give a great shout: “Ācārya!” But Chan Master Liangjie did not understand why, and immediately replied, “I remember.”

This had already made something definite of it: it had become a memory, something held onto. Chan Master Guishan continued, “Recite the koan for me.” Chan Master Liangjie then related the koan. It is as follows.

A monk asked National Teacher Nanyang Zhong, “What is the mind of the ancient Buddha?” The National Teacher replied, “Walls and tiles.” The monk said, “Are not walls and tiles insentient?” He meant that walls and tiles have no awareness, so how could they be the mind of the ancient Buddha? The National Teacher replied, “They are.” These words contain a profound and wondrous meaning.

For sentient and insentient beings alike fully realize the wisdom of all aspects. It is only because of discrimination that distinctions between sentient and insentient arise.

If there is no discrimination, then all sounds and forms, mountains and rivers, the great earth, eating and drinking, men and women, all are complete within mind-nature. Not a single dharma can be obtained, so what sentient or insentient beings could there be? Because we take dharmas as obtainable, we then classify them into categories, love or hate them, grasp or reject them, and thereby afflictions arise in profusion and cyclic wandering never ceases.

As explained earlier, our bodies are originally temporary composites of the four great elements and are no different from insentient things. Only because the true mind is enveloped by ignorance and turns into deluded mind, dwelling within this shell compounded of the four great elements and clinging to it as oneself, does deluded knowing arise. Otherwise, would our bodies not be just like walls and tiles?

But the monk did not understand this principle and asked doubtfully, “Can the insentient also expound the Dharma?” Since Buddhas expound the Dharma to liberate living beings, and ancient Buddhas can expound the Dharma, then if the insentient are the mind of the ancient Buddha, they should naturally also be able to expound the Dharma. Like us ordinary beings, this monk always fell upon what is seen and heard among the objects of the senses, without seeing the nature that sees and hears.

The National Teacher said, “They constantly expound it, fervently expound it, without interruption.” The insentient do not expound the Dharma only intermittently, speaking at one time and not at another. Naturally, at every moment, they are always expounding it; and what they expound is not merely a little, but immeasurable and boundless. We are often attached to what is heard and seen, without knowing that non-speaking is true speaking.

When a sound is heard, one says it is heard; when no sound is heard, one says that nothing is heard. Yet not hearing a sound is also hearing: you hear the absence of sound. Thus non-speaking is true speaking. Because great sound is scarcely audible, the greatest sound is soundless. To say there is sound that can be heard is not true hearing, for you are attached to what is heard. The nature of hearing lies neither in sound nor in silence. Sound arises and ceases, and therefore is false; nature has no break, and therefore is true.

The monk again asked, “Why can I not hear the insentient expounding the Dharma?” The National Teacher replied, “You yourself do not hear, but that does not hinder those who hear.” You yourself do not hear because you obscure Buddha-nature and cling to audible sound, not knowing that non-hearing is true hearing.

Looking further, who is it that hears non-hearing? Who hears the absence of sound? You say that you do not hear, yet it is radiating light through your ear faculty—why do you not know this? You hear silence; is that not hearing? Is hearing silence not precisely hearing? When you hear a sound, you begin to discriminate along with it and are carried away by the sound.

But when there is silence and no discrimination, that is precisely when your nature of hearing is present; therefore it is true hearing. You yourself do not hear, but you cannot obstruct that which is able to hear. This rebukes and scolds him, but also instructs and reminds him. At the moment when there is no sound to hear and the nature of hearing is truly hearing, you nevertheless say that you do not hear. It is only that you yourself are not alert and do not understand, while the nature of hearing remains perfectly clear.

The monk continued to ask, “Who can hear the insentient expounding the Dharma?” In truth, there is not a single person in the whole earth who does not hear. Who does not hear? Who lacks the nature of hearing? So long as you do not cling to sounds, whose nature of hearing is not luminously present? It is only that you yourself do not cast your gaze there. The National Teacher said, “All sages hear it.”

This meant that sages can hear it, whereas you ordinary beings cannot. Yet the National Teacher’s statement has a flaw, for everyone is originally Buddha; the dharmakāya is without form, and no distinction between ordinary beings and sages can be established. So how could there be any sage or non-sage? The National Teacher was pressed hard by the monk’s questioning and temporarily used these words to obscure his eyes.

The monk pressed him further: “Does Your Reverence hear?” Can you yourself hear it? Since the National Preceptor had said, “All the sages are able to hear it,” the monk struck him right there. Did not this question leave the National Preceptor unable to answer? If he said that he heard it, he would be praising himself; if he said that he did not hear it, then he would not be a sage or a National Preceptor.

The National Preceptor said, “I do not hear.” Pressed into a corner, he could only confess. The monk immediately asked again, “Since Your Reverence does not hear it, how do you know that insentient things can expound the Dharma?” This was an excellent and forceful question: using the National Preceptor’s own weapon to strike back at him, it left him no room to evade. The National Preceptor replied, “Fortunately, I do not hear.”

“If I heard, I would be on a par with all the sages, and you would not hear me expounding the Dharma.” Fortunately, I cannot hear it. If I could hear it, I would be a sage, and you would not hear me expounding the Dharma to you. The monk’s question was inherently difficult to answer, but the National Preceptor had a way to turn himself around. His move—“Fortunately, I do not hear”—was very ingenious. Such a response is the Chan masters’ way of returning an echo and redirecting the force, like the practice of pushing hands in taijiquan, where one can aptly transform the opponent’s force.

Whenever there is speech, there is no real meaning. Speech and hearing merely serve to bring out this no-speaking and no-hearing. No-speaking and no-hearing are true speaking and true hearing; therefore, speaking and hearing are not true speaking and true hearing. The National Preceptor’s statement, “you would not hear me expounding the Dharma,” is also self-contradictory. Why? Fundamentally, there is no Dharma to expound, nor is there anyone to hear the Dharma. If there were still a Dharma to expound and someone to hear it, that would be attachment to the marks of person and self.

Layman Pang of the Tang dynasty once heard a lecturer-monk expounding the Diamond Sūtra. When the lecturer reached the words, “no mark of self, no mark of person,” Layman Pang asked him, “Lecturer! If there is neither self nor person, who is speaking, and who is listening?” If there is no mark of self and no mark of person, then who expounds the Dharma and who hears the Dharma? As it is said: no-speaking and no-hearing are true speaking and true hearing.

Although the lecturer-monk could expound the Diamond Sūtra, he had merely memorized doctrinal formulations and could not put their principles into actual practice. At this point he could not penetrate through, and had no reply at all. Layman Pang said, “Though I am a layman, I have some rough understanding of faith and inclination.”

The lecturer-monk said, “Then what is the layman’s understanding?” Layman Pang recited a verse: “Without self, and again without person, / How could there be intimacy or estrangement? / I urge you, do not make the rounds of lecture seats; / It is better to seek the truth directly. / The vajra nature of prajñā / Externally excludes even a speck of dust. / What I hear and accept in faith / Is all set forth in provisional names.” Self, hearing, and even faithful acceptance are all provisional names. Only in no-self does the true self become manifest; only in no-hearing is there true hearing. On hearing this verse, the lecturer-monk joyfully looked up and sighed in admiration.

When the National Preceptor said, “Fortunately, I do not hear. If I heard, I would be on a par with all the sages, and you would not hear me expounding the Dharma,” the monk said, “If that is so, then sentient beings have no share in it.” If so, sentient beings would be unable to hear insentient things expounding the Dharma. The National Preceptor turned the thrust of the discussion and said, “I speak for sentient beings, not for all the sages.”

The monk asked, “What happens after sentient beings hear it?” What will happen after sentient beings hear you expound it? The National Preceptor replied, “They are then no longer sentient beings!” If sentient beings can hear insentient things expounding the Dharma and apprehend this hearing-nature that neither arises nor ceases, they transcend the ordinary and enter the sagehood; hence, “they are then no longer sentient beings.”

Finally, the monk changed the subject and asked, “Insentient things expound the Dharma—on what scripture or teaching is this based?” From what sūtra does the teaching that insentient things expound the Dharma derive? What evidence or basis does it have? The National Preceptor said, “Certainly. Words not supported by the scriptures are not what a gentleman should discuss. Have you not seen the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, which says: ‘Lands speak, sentient beings speak, and all things throughout the three times speak.’”

What you say is certainly correct. If the assertion that “insentient things expound the Dharma” had no basis in the scriptures, it would have no meaning at all and would not be the speech of a gentleman. The National Preceptor then cited the scripture. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: “Lands speak, sentient beings speak, and all things throughout the three times speak.” Every particle of dust and every mote of earth expounds the Dharma; seated within a minute particle of dust, one turns the great Dharma wheel. Both the sentient world and the insentient material world expound the Dharma—this is what is meant by “all things speak.” Here the koan of insentient things expounding the Dharma comes to an end.

After Chan Master Weishan heard Liangjie recount the koan of “insentient things expounding the Dharma,” he said, “I have it here as well, but rarely encounter the right person.” I too have this kind of insentient expounding of the Dharma here. One must encounter someone of considerable capacity before one can respond appropriately and be in accord; thus he said, “rarely encounter the right person.” Liangjie said, “I do not understand. I beg the Master for instruction.”

Chan Master Weishan raised upright the whisk he ordinarily used and asked Liangjie, “Do you understand?” This is insentient things expounding the Dharma—can you comprehend it? Liangjie said, “I do not understand.” Liangjie honestly admitted that he did not understand or comprehend it. In fact, this was the most intimate moment.

For if you understand it or comprehend it, that is a discriminating view, and there is some principle to be grasped. Conversely, when you do not understand, it is precisely the moment when not a single thought arises. Immediately turn the light inward: what is this? In that very moment, you see your true nature. Unfortunately, Liangjie always assumed that some principle remained to be understood. He misunderstood the meaning, and the opportunity was lost.

Liangjie continued, “Please explain it, Reverend.” Weishan said, “The mouth born of one’s parents can never explain it to you.” This fleshly mouth, born of one’s parents, can never tell it to you. Why? No matter how much one says, it can never be said.

It cannot be reached by speech or thought: “the path of words is cut off, and the activity of mind is extinguished.” Once spoken, it misses the mark; once known, it is no longer it. Here Weishan was hinting to Liangjie that no-speaking is true speaking and no-hearing is true hearing—this is insentient things expounding the Dharma. Regrettably, Liangjie was still muddled and did not understand.

People often cling to the realms of the six sense objects—forms, sounds, odors, tastes, tactile objects, and dharmas—that correspond to seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing. That is, they cling to what is seen and heard, and thus take no-seeing and no-hearing to be nothing at all. They do not realize that the true nature capable of seeing and hearing, though itself without anything seen or heard, has never been interrupted, bears no trace of continuity, and is thusness, unmoving. Therefore Buddha-nature is also called “suchness.” This shows how dense and deeply rooted people’s habitual tendencies of deluded thinking and attachment are.

Liangjie and Patriarch Weishan exchanged many words, but Weishan felt that their affinities did not accord. Liangjie therefore asked, “Are there any others who sought the Way at the same time as you, Master?” In other words, are there other elder masters who practiced Chan and awakened to the Way at the same time as you? Weishan said, “From here, go to Liling. You County and Shishi are connected; there is a man of the Way at Yunyan. If you can push aside the grasses and look to the wind, he will surely be someone you hold in great esteem.”

From here to Liling in Hunan Province, between You County and Shishi, there is a place called Yunyan, where there was a Chan master named Yunyan. Chan Master Yunyan awakened under Yaoshan and was Yaoshan’s disciple. Yaoshan was a disciple of Shitou Xiqian. (The physical body of Chan Master Shitou Xiqian did not decay and is now enshrined in Japan.)

Weishan instructed Liangjie to seek out Chan Master Yunyan. He told him that Yunyan lived in a place unknown to others, secluded amid luxuriant deep grasses. If you bring forth a great resolve, push aside the deep grass, and behold the elder’s bearing—“pushing aside the grasses and looking to the wind”—then your opportunity has arrived, and you will certainly revere him. Liangjie took leave of Weishan and went directly to Yunyan.

After Liangjie met Chan Master Yunyan, he recounted once more the preceding koan of insentient things expounding the Dharma. He then asked, “Who can hear insentient things expounding the Dharma?” Yunyan said, “Insentient things can hear it.” National Preceptor Zhong had said that all sages can hear it, but Yunyan said that insentient things can hear it. In fact, purity and an empty mind are sagehood.

Neither sage nor ordinary being is established; when everything is absent, each and every thing manifests a wondrous form-body and extends a broad, long tongue to proclaim the sound of the Dharma. Blazing without end, it speaks here endlessly and without limit. This is how insentient things expound the Dharma. Liangjie then asked, “Does Your Reverence hear it?” Even now, Liangjie remained muddled.

Yunyan said, “If I heard it, you would not hear me expounding the Dharma.” This was exactly the same as National Preceptor Zhong’s reply. For if there is something heard, one is attached to the realm of sense objects; how could one then be a teacher of others? Therefore I do not hear. No-hearing is true hearing. This is also “no verbal expression”—there are no words to speak.

You must thoroughly comprehend the meaning beyond the words. You understand only Dharma that has language and can be spoken. The words you now hear me speak are verbal expressions, but they are not the reality.

I now speak to you in this way so that you may comprehend the meaning beyond the words, understand what lies beyond the words, and thereby clearly see the true speaking of no-speaking and the true hearing of no-hearing. But Liangjie still did not understand, and continued to ask, “Why can I not hear it?” He was still attached to the sensory realm of sounds and forms. What meaning is there in pursuing it like this? Why can he not turn hearing back to hear his own nature?

It is shining right before your face! Is this not your naturally hearing—the hearing of no-hearing? People in the world are all so muddled; how pitiful! At this point, Yunyan, like Weishan, raised his whisk.

If Liangjie had seized this opportunity and asked himself, “Who is it that sees this raised whisk?”—and exerted himself vigorously right there—he would have awakened immediately. Regrettably, the opportunity was again missed. Yunyan asked, “Do you hear it still?” Though the raised whisk made no sound and spoke no words, the great sound is scarcely heard; it was utterly clear, like thunder resounding in one’s ears. Why? Because the sound within soundlessness is the greatest sound. This is what is called “the great sound is scarcely heard.”

We people often cling to audible sound and seek understanding where there is sound to hear. But if you are truly to see your true nature, you cannot cling to the place where sound can be heard. Sound and silence are merely the arising and ceasing of sounds, whereas our hearing-nature constantly shines before us at every moment. It has no intervals and no breaks.

Therefore, an ancient worthy said: “After wind and rain, peach blossoms carpet both banks; where can the horse’s hooves avoid the fallen red petals?” We have already cited this verse. Peach trees line both sides of a narrow path, and after a heavy wind and rain, peach petals cover the path everywhere.

When one rides a horse through this place, how can its hooves avoid the petals strewn everywhere and not tread upon them? This means that Buddha-nature is functioning everywhere and at all times; there is no time when it is absent and no place where it is not present. Can you avoid it? Therefore, do not discriminate between form and formlessness, sound and silence. When we do not see light, we see darkness; seeing darkness is still seeing. When we do not hear sound, we hear silence; hearing silence is still hearing. Is this not evidence that the nature of seeing and the nature of hearing neither arise nor cease?

Regrettably, Liangjie replied, “I do not hear.” He was attached to sound: because he did not hear a sound, he thought that he did not hear. It was like making alluring eyes at a blind man—he missed it right before him. What a pity! Yet we must also say that it was fortunate that he did not hear. Had there been hearing, he would again have become attached to appearances. Not hearing is true hearing.

Yunyan said, “When I expound the Dharma to you, you still do not hear; how much less would you hear the insentient expounding the Dharma?” When I expound the Dharma to you in this way, raising the whisk—even though there is no sound, there is still a movement—and you neither hear nor comprehend it, how much less would you comprehend the true speaking and true movement that are without speech and without movement? Worldly people are all this foolish: attached within the deluded karma of forms and sounds that they see and hear, they have never turned the light inward even for a glance, thereby recognizing the nature that can see, hear, speak, and move.

This nature is the original true Buddha! People even mistakenly take not hearing a sound to mean no hearing, and not seeing light, shadows, or forms to mean no seeing. They do not realize that this nature of seeing and hearing continually shines forth before them, never obscured and never interrupted. Even when there is no sound to hear and no form to see, there is still seeing and still hearing. For hearing silence is still hearing, and seeing formlessness is still seeing. How, then, can one speak of no seeing and no hearing?

Liangjie then asked, “On what scriptural teaching is the insentient expounding the Dharma based?” This was the same question as in the preceding koan. Chan Master Yunyan replied, “Have you not seen what the Amitābha Sūtra says: ‘The waters, birds, and forests all recite the Buddha and recite the Dharma.’”

At this point, Chan Master Liangjie suddenly had some awakening. At last, through sound he entered into soundlessness. He had finally understood and awakened, and he spontaneously uttered this verse: “How wondrous! How wondrous! The insentient expounding the Dharma is inconceivable. If one listens with the ears, one will never understand; only by hearing sound at the place of the eyes can one come to know.”

How marvelous, how marvelous! The insentient expounding the Dharma is truly ineffable and inconceivable, utterly beyond imagination. If you listen with your ears, you cannot understand, because the insentient expounding the Dharma has no sound. Only by listening with the eyes can you grasp its subtle wonder. The eyes cannot hear sound, yet no sound is precisely the wondrous sound.

From this we can see that Chan Master Liangjie understood sound and, through sound, understood soundlessness. Yet he had not understood that soundlessness is sound and sound is soundlessness; he had not yet reached complete and ultimate realization.

There are many other koans of awakening to the Way through sound. Let us give another example. In former times, Chan Master Yuanwu Keqin served as an attendant in the assembly of Wuzu Fayan and followed Chan Master Wuzu Fayan in studying Chan.

One day, a scholar came to consult Wuzu Fayan. Wuzu said to him, “If you ask about intrinsic nature and the dharmakāya, did you read the ‘Little Yan Poem’ in your youth? Two lines in it are very similar to this: ‘Repeatedly calling, “Little Yu! Little Yu!” is originally for no matter at all; it is only to let her beloved recognize her voice.’”

This means that repeatedly calling, “Little Yu! Little Yu!” is not really for any particular purpose. The true intention is simply to let her lover hear the call and know that she is there. In other words, she deliberately sends her lover a message, for he recognizes her voice; upon hearing her call, he knows that she is there.

Let us use this poem to ask in return: Who gives rise to this calling voice? And who hears it? Are these not all functions of intrinsic nature? Are they not all manifestations of the true nature? Wuzu Fayan’s citation of this Little Yan Poem contains a profound meaning.

Originally, all forms and all sounds have no inherent significance. They are flowers in empty space and the moon reflected in water, all unobtainable; this accords with the first line, “originally for no matter at all.” Yet everything is the functioning of intrinsic nature and the manifestation of the true nature; this accords with the second line, “recognize her voice.” Its purpose is to inspire us all to recognize our own Original Face.

Yuanwu Keqin heard these words from nearby and immediately had an awakening. As he came out of the abbot’s room, a large rooster happened to let out a long “cock-a-doodle-doo” from atop the fence.

As soon as Yuanwu Keqin heard it, his spiritual faculty was suddenly stirred. Encountering the word “voice” in Wuzu Fayan’s saying, “only to let her beloved recognize her voice,” he suddenly attained great awakening. Is this not sound? This is the manifestation of intrinsic nature. Apart from intrinsic nature, what else is there? As we explained earlier, no shadow can be apart from a mirror. Once apart from the mirror, where could there be a shadow? Everything without exception is the functioning and manifestation of the true nature.

Although Chan Master Liangjie had some awakening, it was not yet complete. He again asked Chan Master Yunyan, “Does this humble person still have residual habitual tendencies that have not been exhausted?” In other words: Do I still have many habitual tendencies that have not yet been eliminated? Yunyan countered, “What have you ever done?” That is, what is it that you are clinging to? Liangjie said, “I do not even engage in the noble truths.”

This is non-contrivance: not attached to anything at all, not even attached to the noble truths; attached to nothing, and not even attached to nonattachment. Yunyan went on to ask, “Do you still feel joy?” Liangjie replied, “Joy is not absent. It is like finding a bright pearl atop a heap of sweepings from a latrine.” This describes the feeling of awakening: the joy is like finding a bright pearl in a dung heap. To have joy is attachment to dharmas. This is a residual habitual tendency: joy still remains. When intention is not exhausted, emotional attachment is not emptied, and there is something gained, it is not thorough awakening.

Later, Chan Master Liangjie took leave of Chan Master Yunyan. At their parting, he again asked, “After a hundred years, if someone suddenly asks, ‘Can you still portray your teacher’s true likeness?’ how should I answer?” Here, zhen, “true likeness,” means a portrait; the teacher’s true likeness means the master’s portrait.

Literally, “portray your teacher’s true likeness” means to see the master’s portrait. Here it refers to receiving the master’s true transmission and being as thoroughly free as the master. The question means: After you, Master, enter parinirvāṇa, if someone asks me whether I can still see my teacher, how should I reply? Yunyan remained silent for a long while. Then he said, “Just this is it.”

This means: Tell the questioner, “Just this!” Everyone, what is this “this” of which Chan Master Yunyan spoke? This with which I answer you is precisely this for which you ask! The things you see, the sounds you hear, the smells you smell, and so forth—none is other than this. But after hearing this, Liangjie pondered over it; he had not yet understood its meaning.

Chan Master Yunyan then said, “Acharya Jie, in taking up this matter, you must be exceedingly careful and thorough.” This matter refers to awakening and seeing one’s true nature. Liangjie, in taking up such a great matter as awakening and seeing your true nature, you must be prudent and meticulous; you must not be so careless. At that point, Chan Master Liangjie still had doubts. Therefore, he had not yet reached the ultimate.

Later, while crossing a river, Chan Master Liangjie lowered his head to roll up his trouser legs and saw his own reflection in the water. Only then did he suddenly attain great awakening. At this point he understood the meaning of Patriarch Yunyan’s words, “Just this is it.” Previously, he had understood only that the dharmakāya is formless, utterly bare and unstained by a single speck of dust. Yet he did not know that all forms are the self-nature itself. He had understood only that soundlessness is sound, and that emptiness is presence. He had not yet understood that all sounds are soundless, and that presence is emptiness. Upon seeing his reflection in the water, Chan Master Liangjie attained great awakening and immediately composed this verse:

“Do not seek it from others; it will then be far removed from you.

I now go on alone, yet everywhere I encounter it.

It now is precisely I, yet I am not precisely it.

One must understand in this way in order to accord with suchness.”

What does this verse mean? “Do not seek it from others” means that in cultivating the Dharma and studying the Way, we should not seek outwardly or seek from others. What others explain is not it; seeking the Buddha or seeking the Dharma is even less so. One must seek inwardly, seek oneself. Only awakening for oneself is genuine.

If you search outwardly and seek externally, then “it will be far removed from you”: you will be separated from intrinsic nature by a vast distance.

“I now go on alone” means that now, wherever I go and at whatever time, I neither grasp nor reject external things. Everything is “alone,” absolute; there is no longer any duality or relativity.

If this is possible, then “everywhere I encounter it”: at all places and times, this absolute true mind can manifest, and at all places and times one can see the true nature of suchness. “It now is precisely I”: it refers to the reflection. Mountains, rivers, the great earth, the sun, moon, stars, and all things without exception are my reflections; all are my manifestations.

Yet “I am not precisely it”: this dharmakāya of mine is formless. Although all reflections are my manifestations, I am not the reflections. That is, although none of all these forms is other than I, I am not all these forms, because the dharmakāya is formless. Even if you were to remove all these forms, since none of them is I, I would suffer no loss.

Therefore, do not become attached to appearances. All appearances are unobtainable; not establishing a single dharma is correct. “One must understand in this way in order to accord with suchness” means that practitioners should understand in this manner. Only then can the true mind abide constantly and accord with suchness that is unmoving, without being swayed by any circumstance or object.

For this reason, an ancient worthy said: “The verdant bamboo is wholly the Dharma body; the lush yellow flowers are nothing but prajñā.” What in the universe is not the Dharma body? All are the functioning and manifestation of the Dharma body. This is what Chan Master Yunyan called “just this.” Chan masters often say, “To pick up a single blade of grass is the sixteen-foot golden body.” This is the principle behind it.

But here one must be exceedingly careful. One must not be vague and indiscriminate, nor cling to material appearances as the Dharma body, thereby creating karma in confusion and bringing endless suffering upon oneself. Chan Master Dazhu Huihai says in The Essential Gateway to Entering the Way Through Sudden Awakening: “Deluded people do not know that the Dharma body is formless and manifests forms in response to things. Thus they call the verdant bamboo wholly the Dharma body, and the lush yellow flowers nothing but prajñā.

If yellow flowers are prajñā, then prajñā is no different from insentient things. If green bamboo is the Dharma body, then the Dharma body is no different from grass and trees. When people eat bamboo shoots, they ought to be eating the Dharma body as well.”

Does this passage not overturn the principle stated above—that nature is appearance, appearance is nature, and nature and appearance are nondual? No, it does not. Venerable Dazhu feared that we might mistake the fixed star for the true guide: upon hearing that all things in the universe are manifestations of the Dharma body, we might become attached to material appearances and take the reflections appearing in a mirror to be real.

This is like the Chan saying: “Mistaking a donkey’s saddle bridge for one’s father’s chin.” Since mountains, rivers, the great earth, the sun, moon, stars, grasses, trees, and forests are all intrinsic nature, and intrinsic nature is true and not false, enduring from ancient times to the present, one may then take these material appearances to be truly existent, clinging to them and grasping at them without end. Would this not mean creating karma and undergoing its retribution, remaining forever submerged in birth and death, with no end in sight? Therefore, blows and shouts must be applied to shatter this deluded dream, so that one may recognize that true reality is without appearance and see the wondrous functioning of one’s intrinsic nature.

Although the Dharma body is formless, it is not a dead emptiness. It is wondrous presence within true emptiness; it exists objectively. Therefore, it can give rise to all phenomena, manifest forms in response to things, and function according to conditions. It is like a mirror and its reflections: because of the mirror’s radiance, all reflections can appear. And because the mirror and its reflections are inseparable, one says that the mirror is the reflection and the reflection is the mirror.

Yet reflections are ultimately unobtainable. One must never cling to them as truly existent, taking them as real and mistakenly believing that they are, in truth, the mirror itself. When it is said that “the reflection is the mirror,” this merely conveys their inseparability. Since without a mirror there can be no reflection, and without a reflection there can be no mirror, it is said that seeing a reflection is seeing the mirror. The Dharma body and material appearances are likewise.

Material appearances are indeed manifested by the Dharma body, but they have no independent substance and no intrinsic nature. They are all formed through causes and conditions and, like flowers in empty space and the moon reflected in water, are unobtainable. They must not be grasped as truly existent, much less taken in all actuality to be the Dharma body. All material appearances are merely the wondrous functioning manifested by the Dharma body.

The doctrinal teachings call the relationship between material appearances and the Dharma body “neither identical nor separate.” “Not identical” means that material appearances are merely illusory reflections, not the true Dharma body. “Not separate” means that apart from appearances there is no intrinsic nature, and apart from objects there is no mind—just as without reflections there is no mirror, and without waves there is no water. “Neither identical nor separate” is intended to explain the relationship between mind-nature and material appearances.

Our true nature is a perfectly wondrous spiritual awareness that is neither existent nor empty, neither empty nor existent. It clings neither to existence nor to emptiness, neither to emptiness nor to existence. When spoken of as empty, it fills all space and pervades the dharma realm; when spoken of as existent, it is utterly bare, with not the slightest thing established.

Only if one can apply and understand it in this way is one slightly in accord with the central principle of true emptiness and wondrous presence. Going further, not only are reflections unobtainable and not to be clung to; the mirror itself—our Dharma body—must not be clung to either. For once there is attachment, there is partiality. Once there is partiality, there must be contrivance. In the Chan school, this is called “falling into sainthood.” For if you cling to the Dharma body, that is attachment to dharmas, and it is not ultimate.

Let us cite another koan as proof. Once, Chan Master Xuefeng Yicun addressed the assembly, saying: “To understand this matter is like an ancient mirror set upon its stand: when a Hu person comes, a Hu person appears; when a Han person comes, a Han person appears.” What does this mean? It means that our Dharma body, our true nature, is like an ancient mirror.

Why compare it to an ancient mirror? Because this Dharma body has existed since beginningless time; it did not begin today, and thus is called ancient. Moreover, because its light is immeasurable, illuminating the ten directions without obstruction, it is compared to a mirror. This ancient mirror manifests forms in response to things.

Whatever size the object it reflects, a reflection of that size appears; whatever kind of person it reflects, a corresponding form appears—when a Hu person comes, a Hu person appears; when a Han person comes, a Han person appears. Chan Master Yicun instructed everyone that our Dharma body is such a wondrous essence and has such wondrous functioning.

At that point, his disciple Chan Master Xuansha stepped forward and asked, “What if a bright mirror itself comes?” That is, if one who has awakened and seen one’s true nature comes, how does the mirror manifest? Chan Master Xuefeng said, “Hu and Han both disappear.” This means that all appearances vanish and recede. Chan Master Xuansha said, “Old Master, your heels have not yet left the ground.”

Why? Although everything has disappeared, the mirror still remains. Moreover, the disappearance of everything is not a blank nothingness; it contains layer upon layer of wondrous functioning and layer upon layer of the flavor of prajñā. Therefore, the reply “Hu and Han both disappear” is still not ultimate. Later, an old master commented, “Break the mirror, then come and meet me.” This means that the Dharma body, too, must not be clung to; it too must dissolve into emptiness, leaving nothing to grasp.

Chan Master Dongshan said, “I now am not it,” thereby wiping away the reflections of all dharma appearances. Empty space is shattered, the great earth sinks level, and everything is extinguished and disappears into nothingness. Not only that: even I—the Dharma body—is not established.

Not only is the Dharma body not established; even non-establishment is not established. This is what is meant by “not dharma, not non-dharma.” Only this is great awakening; only this is ultimate. This koan is so profound. We practitioners must awaken, understand, and realize in this way. The Heart Sūtra expounds this very deeply. If we can truly penetrate the Heart Sūtra, we will thoroughly understand the Tripiṭaka and the twelve divisions of the Buddhist canon without doubt.

Some people may find the koan above, and the saying “It is now me; I now am not it,” difficult to comprehend. The Chan school teaches no self and no person, just as the Diamond Sūtra says: no mark of self, no mark of person, no mark of sentient being, and no mark of life span.

Yet here there is both “it” and “I.” What kind of Chan is this? Thus it seems obscure and difficult to understand. Before Chan Master Dahui Zonggao awakened, he served as an attendant under Zhan Tang. On reading this verse, he too gave rise to doubt: “There is an ‘it,’ and there is an ‘I’—what kind of Chan is this?” So he went to ask Zhan Tang. The elder Zhan Tang said, “Recite it again.”

Just as Chan Master Dahui Zonggao was about to recite this koan, Chan Master Zhan Tang seized him and pushed him out, saying, “Even when you recite it, you still do not understand.” Chan Master Zhan Tang’s true intention was not for Dahui Zonggao to recount the entire course of the koan, nor was he teaching him to keep thinking of all these words. Rather, before he recited it, when not a single thought had arisen, what was that? Once one understands this true mind and vigorously applies oneself here, that is seeing one’s true nature.

The wondrous function of koans in the Chan school is to teach you, when doubt arises, to turn the light inward and see what is original. This is realizing the Way; this is seeing one’s true nature. There is nothing mysterious about it. Do not suppose that seeing one’s true nature means seeing some thing. If you think there is something to be seen, that is not it.

For the Dharma body is formless; it is spiritual knowing. If there is some thing, it is not that. Conversely, although the Dharma body is formless, it is true emptiness and wondrous presence, an all-capable essence: it can accomplish all affairs, give rise to all phenomena, function in response to conditions, and respond to conditions in engaging with things. Thus, it is not separate from all appearances.

As we said earlier, after we ourselves have seen and realized this Dharma body of suchness, it is as though we have become the master. Then we may make use of discriminating consciousness, directing it at our command, using it to benefit living beings and to deal with people and circumstances, among other things. We may use discriminating consciousness to do all things.

If there were only suchness and Buddha-nature, like a mirror reflecting objects while remaining thus and unmoving, how could any affairs be accomplished? Therefore, after the mirror reflects objects, distinguishing the reflections is the work of discriminating consciousness.

When we study and practice Buddhism, all of us must see our true nature; when you come to hear the Dharma, this too makes use of discriminating consciousness. The master directs this servant to do its work. Thus, after recognizing true nature, one does not rigidly cling to it in a lifeless way, but gives rise to inexhaustible wondrous functioning, alive and vibrant. Once you recognize the master, you can make use of the servant, and the servant is then not separate from the master.

In this way, everywhere is the wondrous functioning of the true mind. Once one has truly recognized true nature, all material appearances and all things may be directed and used by you, without the slightest emotional attachment to things. Not clinging to appearances is precisely the arising of wondrous functioning; this is called great capacity and great functioning. The Diamond Sūtra reveals that not a single thing is established, that one is utterly bare and unstained by a single speck of dust. The Amitābha Sūtra reveals wondrous appearances and adornment.

This means that from the essence of true emptiness wondrous functioning can arise, and that this wondrous functioning is boundless. Therefore, wondrous appearances are true emptiness, and true emptiness is wondrous appearances; adornment is formlessness, and formlessness is adornment. Wondrous appearance and adornment are true emptiness and formlessness.

To summarize, the passage in the Heart Sūtra that says, “No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or dharma; no eye realm, up to and including no consciousness realm,” refutes the views of ordinary beings. The Buddha’s compassion is profound. He hopes that ordinary beings may awaken from the deluded error of clinging to the eighteen realms as truly existent, recognize that the six sense faculties, six sense objects, and six consciousnesses—the eighteen realms—are fundamentally empty and nonexistent, and understand that all are functions of intrinsic nature. Thus they awaken to what is original and see their true nature directly. This is the Buddha’s compassionate deliverance of ordinary beings from deluded attachment.

Next, the Heart Sūtra says:

“No ignorance, and also no ending of ignorance; up to no old age and death, and also no ending of old age and death.” This is to liberate the pratyekabuddhas. Pratyekabuddhas awaken to the Way through the twelve links of dependent origination. This passage refutes their attachment to the dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination. The dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination also falls within the overall framework of the five aggregates. Since the five aggregates are empty, the dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination cannot be regarded as truly real either.

Among the four teachings distinguished by the Tiantai school—Tripiṭaka, Shared, Distinct, and Perfect—the sages of the middle vehicle in the Tripiṭaka teaching are pratyekabuddhas; the Great Vehicle consists of Buddhas and bodhisattvas, while the Lesser Vehicle consists of śrāvakas, that is, arhats. When the Buddha was in the world, he expounded the dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination for the pratyekabuddha vehicle. When pratyekabuddha sages see flowers bloom and fade, they awaken to the Way.

Because flowers do not remain beautiful forever, the moon is not forever full, and human life is not long-lasting, all are exceedingly brief and cannot remain so for long; therefore, none can be obtained. They awaken through dharmas arising from causes and conditions, and are thus called pratyekabuddhas. Yet they can only be liberated from segmented birth and death; they cannot yet be liberated from transformational birth and death, nor have they reached the Buddha’s state.

When the Buddha taught the prajñā sūtras, including the Heart Sūtra, it was to guide sages of the middle and lesser vehicles away from the lesser and toward the greater. The Buddha extensively expounded the principle of prajñā’s wisdom of emptiness, explaining to them that the dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination previously taught is all revealed by true emptiness and cannot be grasped as truly existent. If it is grasped as truly existent, that is attachment to dharmas; then one cannot be liberated from transformational birth and death or attain Buddhahood. One must not abide in any appearance; nothing whatsoever can be obtained. In this way, he swept away their attachments, enabling them to awaken thoroughly and realize Buddhahood.

As we mentioned earlier, ordinary beings of superior capacities and keen wisdom can become Buddhas immediately once they awaken to the empty characteristics of all dharmas. When the mind abides nowhere, the true mind remains ever luminous. Once the mind has something on which to abide, desire clouds discernment; this is called “when emotional attachments arise, wisdom is blocked.” When views based on emotional attachment and clinging arise, wisdom is covered over and cut off, and one can never be free and at ease.

Because the mind is deluded by objects and circumstances, grasps at appearances, and becomes attached, it suffers from worries over gain and loss and from countless afflictions. Those who are not free and at ease are so because their minds are turned by things. We now understand that “the empty characteristics of all dharmas”—the xiang in “empty characteristics” means “meaning,” that is, “the meaning that all dharmas are empty.”

All appearances are illusory and provisional appearances, useful only temporarily; none can be obtained, so do not cling to them. Do not hold them in mind at all, and do not abide in them in the least. Use things without being used by them; turn things without being turned by them. Then, amid all affairs and conditions, one will attain great freedom and ease. One who has truly realized the Way simply eats when hungry and sleeps when tired, with not a single concern.

In former times, an ancient worthy instructed an assembly. He said, “Just put on clothes and eat भोजन; once you raise the mind or stir a thought, it is no longer so.”

Someone asked, “Who does not know how to put on clothes and eat? Why, then, can no one bring it to completion?” This is because, when ordinary beings dress, they are always excessively particular: perhaps they are dissatisfied with the fabric, perhaps the pattern is unattractive, perhaps the style is unsuitable, and so forth. Thus, all sorts of afflictions arise in their minds.

Eating is the same: they are endlessly particular, liking this and loathing that, always entangled by objects and conditions, and their minds can never be free and at ease. For this reason, they are called sentient beings. This is what is meant by “when emotional attachments arise, wisdom is blocked.” Conversely, it is good when “wisdom arises and emotional attachments are blocked.”

We possess the great wisdom of prajñā and know that all dharmas cannot be obtained. If the mind does not hold to thoughts and responds to things according to conditions, neither grasping nor contriving, what thoughts could remain? If we can truly accord with conditions, then when conditions arise today and we are put in a position, we take up that position; when conditions end tomorrow and we are removed from it, we step down immediately. If we do not calculate or contend inwardly in the least—not rejoicing when we rise or grieving when we fall—then we attain great freedom and ease and gain true benefit.

The most important thing in learning Buddhism is applying it in the midst of affairs. If one merely burns incense and bows to the Buddha, asking the Buddha to grant something, that is not truly believing in the Buddha; rather, one is troubled by gods and Buddhas. To believe in the Buddha is to trust that our own Buddha of intrinsic nature is no different from the ancient Buddhas of the past. Then we can let go of everything and seek within ourselves.

Because we know that all activity is the functioning of Buddha-nature, we must make use of this Buddha-nature and apply it in the midst of affairs. Whether dealing with people and things or undertaking any task, simply do what must be done without clinging to appearances.

When we work, we should use all our skills to serve sentient beings and benefit them, without clinging to appearances in the least. Do not rejoice at success or grieve at failure. Having already done our utmost, we have not been careless or merely perfunctory. At the same time, because we have no selfish motives and do our utmost for everyone, we will handle all matters in the family and society appropriately. Only such application in the midst of affairs is genuine Buddhist practice; only then do we gain true benefit and attain great freedom and ease.

Nowadays, many people in society think that learning Buddhism is superstition, but in fact they themselves are superstitious. They are infatuated with the forms and appearances of the world. Though it is clear that all worldly dharmas are empty characteristics and utterly unobtainable, they take them to be truly obtainable and pursue them without end, thereby creating karma and undergoing karmic retribution. Thus, they themselves are truly deluded.

In addition, we must recognize that some Buddhists are indeed superstitious, because they do not understand the true meaning of Buddhism. Instead, they burn incense, bow to the Buddha, and beg the Buddha for blessings in the human and deva realms. They seek dharma outside the mind, mistake the false for the true, and grasp delusion as reality. Thus, they are called superstitious.

A practitioner who truly studies Buddhism does not seek the Buddha but seeks within themselves, continually sweeping away and eliminating their habitual tendencies. Because we have habitual tendencies of clinging to forms and appearances, we grasp at appearances whenever we encounter affairs and conditions. We must struggle with ourselves at every moment and revolutionize ourselves. For this reason, we are not superstitious; we possess genuine wisdom-faith.

Once ordinary beings understand the empty characteristics of all dharmas, they can become Buddhas immediately—how much more so sages of the middle vehicle! If sages of the middle vehicle can understand that the dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination is fundamentally unobtainable, they too become Buddhas. As its name suggests, a pratyekabuddha is one who awakens by observing causes and conditions. Causes and conditions may be distinguished as supportive conditions and grasping conditions. Supportive conditions are conditions that assist; grasping conditions are conditions to which one clings.

Supportive conditions mean that people are not originally muddled, but that a certain condition happens to arise and assists their self-delusion. What conditions are these? They are ignorance conditioning formations, formations conditioning consciousness, consciousness conditioning name-and-form, name-and-form conditioning the six sense bases, the six sense bases conditioning contact, contact conditioning feeling, feeling conditioning craving, craving conditioning grasping, grasping conditioning becoming, becoming conditioning birth, and birth conditioning old age and death.

These twelve links of dependent origination thus become twelve kinds of supportive conditions, helping people enter delusion and obscurity. They encompass a series of causes and effects—giving rise to delusion, creating karma, and receiving birth—throughout the past, present, and future three divisions of time, revolving again and again without end. We shall now explain these twelve links of dependent origination one by one:

Ignorance means what ordinary people call muddleheadedness: not understanding the truth. Through the supportive condition of muddleheadedness, deluded activity arises; ignorance assists our deluded activity. We engage in deluded activity because of ignorance, and so it is called “ignorance conditions formations.” Ignorance is not something truly existent. It is mistaken awareness, delusion, and afflictions such as greed, anger, and ignorance. How do we break through it? Once we awaken, ignorance is broken. If we do not understand the truth, deluded activity arises; this is “ignorance conditions formations.”

Formations are deluded activity, the creation of various karmas. Because there is also the supportive condition of deluded activity, there arises recognition—that is, discrimination and identification. If something is good, one likes it and wants to obtain it; if something is bad, one dislikes it and does not want it. Through the assistance of deluded activity, discriminating deluded consciousness arises in us; therefore it is called “formations condition consciousness.”

Consciousness is the mind that discriminates, distinguishes, and identifies; it is muddled and erroneous cognition. In past lives, because we were muddled and did not understand the truth, we engaged in deluded activity. Activity creates karma, and creating karma brings karmic retribution. When the intermediate-state body enters the womb, it chooses, through discrimination and according to karma created in past lives, parents with whom it has affinities and enters their womb.

Whatever kind of karmic consciousness one has gives rise to a corresponding embryo; therefore it is called “consciousness conditions name-and-form.” The destination of the intermediate-state body is governed by karmic conditions and follows karma created in the past. If you did many good deeds and accumulated much wholesome karma in the past, you will see a bright place and encounter parents with whom you have affinities and whose circumstances and conditions are favorable.

Conversely, because of conditions arising from unwholesome karma, one can see only dark and unfavorable places and be reborn into impoverished families, or even in the three lower realms. If a person has committed much unwholesome karma, the intermediate-state body cannot see bright places; all it sees are various terrifying scenes.

For example, hailstones may fall and strike them, yakṣas may pursue them, tigers and wolves may seek to devour them, and so on. Terrified, they flee in panic and enter an unfavorable place, taking rebirth in a family living in harsh conditions and dire poverty. Moreover, because they have much unwholesome karma, deep karmic obstacles, and darkened minds, they can see only dim, obscure light—the light of the three lower realms.

They think that these dim lights accord with their minds, so they run there and are reborn in the three lower realms. To be liberated from segmented birth and death, we must, during practice, remain unmoved on seeing every circumstance, not be drawn in by circumstances, and not give rise to the delusions of attachment. Once one’s practice is truly reliable, then even upon reaching the intermediate-state realm, one’s mind will remain unmoved on seeing any circumstance.

Even when you see a man and woman having sexual intercourse, your mind will remain unmoved, and you will not enter the womb. People are reborn in a human womb because, while in the intermediate-state body, they see parents with whom they have affinities and their minds are stirred. As a third party, they join the parents who are having intercourse. When the man ejaculates, they are carried into the woman’s uterus. This is entering and dwelling in the womb: they have entered it.

Name-and-form: this is when one has just entered the womb and arrived in the uterus. At this point, only the aggregate of form is present; the other four aggregates—feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness—are as yet only names. What is this name-and-form? It is a globule of pus-like fluid, like the pus in a sore, formed when male and female reproductive fluids combine. Since it has no other name, it is called “name-and-form.”

With name-and-form as the supporting condition, the embryonic form gradually develops, and the six sense faculties likewise gradually mature; this is called “name-and-form conditions the six sense bases.” Seven-day rites are performed after a person dies because the intermediate-state body undergoes one birth-and-death and one transformation every seven days. The same is true after conception: there is a transformation every seven days. At first it is like a mass of fluid, then gradually like a pustule, then gradually develops into a sac, then into an embryonic form, then gradually develops a head and four limbs. Before the six sense faculties are complete, the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and other faculties gradually develop, followed by hair, nails, and so forth.

Six sense bases: these are the six capacities of mind—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling, and knowing. Within the embryonic sac, a person's eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind faculties have all developed and can perform the various functions of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling, and knowing. When the faculties encounter their objects, these six capacities arise; this is the six sense bases. With the six sense bases as supporting conditions, “contact” then arises.

Contact: what does it mean? It means that the six sense faculties come into contact with the six sense objects. When gestation is complete and birth is about to take place, the newborn first enters the world and begins to come into contact with the external environment.

Name-and-form and the six sense bases are present in the embryonic sac, whereas “contact” occurs after birth. The temperature in the mother's womb differs greatly from that of the external environment. Thus, as soon as a baby emerges from the womb and comes into contact with the outside air, its whole body feels as though it were being pricked by needles. The pain is like that of a living horse being skinned. Therefore, no newborn enters this world smiling; all arrive crying.

We often speak of the sufferings of birth, aging, illness, and death. Birth truly is suffering: the fetus is forcibly squeezed out between the mother's pelvic bones, like between two great mountains. Not only does the infant suffer; the mother also suffers excruciating pain. In cases of malposition, difficult labor, or severe hemorrhaging, there may even be danger to her life.

Yet human beings are such wretched creatures: they can endure this suffering, but once it has passed, they forget it. Asked to leave this world, they are still reluctant to part from it and still find it pleasant and happy. Thus this Sahā world derives its name from being “endurable.” Contact with the external environment gives rise to feelings such as suffering and pleasure; this is called “contact conditions feeling.”

Feeling means receiving, experiencing, and accepting. As soon as a child begins to develop understanding, there is feeling: the eye experiences forms, the ear experiences sounds, the nose experiences smells, the tongue experiences tastes, the body experiences tactile objects, and the mind experiences dharmas. When the six sense faculties encounter the six sense objects, feelings of form, sound, smell, taste, and so forth arise. From consciousness entering the womb through karmic consciousness onward, consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, and feeling are the five painful results received in this present life from the causes of ignorance and formations created in past lives. From feeling arises craving; therefore it is called “feeling conditions craving.”

Craving means the arising of desire for objects. Once the mind gives rise to greedy craving, one will certainly try to obtain the object and make it one's own; this is “craving conditions grasping.” Earlier, we said that a condition is something that assists. Thus, craving assists you in obtaining the object of your desire.

Grasping means pursuing and acting. Where there is pursuit, there is attainment. Because there is attainment, it is called “grasping conditions becoming.” Since you wish to obtain something, this pursuing mind helps you acquire and possess it.

Becoming means that karma has already been formed. “Becoming” is obtaining through pursuit; because of pursuit, one performs actions that create karma.

For example, in table tennis or volleyball, if one wishes to win medals and achieve outstanding results, how can one acquire superb skill, firm perseverance, and sound psychological qualities without undergoing rigorous regular training—such as basic physical training, high-volume training, overload training, and combat-style training? If we cultivate with something to gain in mind, that too is creating karma.

Doing anything creates karma; it is only that karma differs as wholesome or unwholesome. Here we must emphasize that seeking and attaining are both worldly affairs. If, in studying Buddhism, we seek something or attain something, then it has gone wrong. If there is something attained, one has not become a Buddha but has instead become a demon.

The Heart Sūtra says, “because there is no attainment.” Only by being utterly bare and unstained by a single speck of dust can one become a Buddha. Ordinary people take delusion for reality, cling to false appearances, and regard them as truly existent; therefore they seek attainment. Because there is seeking and attainment, they create karma and undergo karmic retribution. Thus craving, grasping, and becoming are the three causes created by people in their present lives.

Creating karma now is creating causes, and in the future one must undergo the results. Karmic results do not perish; they necessarily condition birth in a future life and the future painful results of birth and death. Because there is attainment, birth and death must inevitably continue to revolve, and one cannot be liberated from birth and death. Thus “becoming” means having birth and death; this is called “becoming conditions birth.”

Birth means receiving, as a result of causes created in the present life, the five-aggregate body of a future life. Where there is birth, there must certainly be aging and death. These are relative and dialectically connected; therefore it is called “birth conditions aging and death.”

Aging and death mean that the body of a future life will again gradually grow old and die. When people grow old, they inevitably experience sorrow, suffering, grief, and distress. When someone is dying, family members weep and wail, unable to bear the departure of their loved one. The dying person also weeps and wails, reluctant to leave relatives and family, reluctant to relinquish everything they possess, and reluctant to leave this Sahā world.

When people grow old and approach death, when there is parting in life and separation in death, who is not troubled by sorrow, grief, suffering, and distress? Because our attachments are so deep, we are unwilling to die at once and all hope to live a little longer. Thus people are indeed ignorant! They do not know that their Buddha-nature neither arises nor ceases with a person's birth and death.

That is to say, this Buddha-nature does not come into being only because a little child has been born, nor does conscious awareness disappear when a person dies. When a person dies, only this skin-bag has broken down. It is like a house that has become uninhabitable: one simply moves house and changes to another room.

Therefore, do not cling to this body as real, and thus become attached to this world and refuse to leave it. In particular, those reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss should go calmly and joyfully. This Sahā world is a world of the five turbidities, a place of suffering and affliction, whereas the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss is a radiant world of utmost happiness.

Why would one not gladly leave a place of suffering and affliction for a place of happiness and light? Thus, in a person of genuine cultivation, deluded thoughts are relatively slight, and they do not fear death. Moreover, when people die, they undergo immense suffering, for at that time the four great elements are about to disperse.

When the earth element disperses, it feels as though a great mountain were pressing down on the body; when the water element disperses, it feels as though the whole body were immersed in water, damp and cold; when the fire element disperses, it feels as though one were being burned by fire, and the body becomes unbearably hot; when the wind element disperses, it is like a great wind sweeping away the earth from a mountain, stripping it off layer by layer. This is called “the wind knife dismembering the body,” and this suffering is the most severe.

Finally, when the last breath does not return and the wind element has completely dispersed, one can no longer breathe. At that point, it is like a living turtle being pulled from its shell: the suffering is so bitter and grievous that nothing can exceed it. Therefore, every person approaching death groans and cries out in agony, undergoing suffering of every kind.

The Buddha's teaching of the twelve links of dependent origination, also called the twelve branches of the teaching of the pratyekabuddha vehicle, reveals the fundamental reason why all sentient beings undergo unceasing rebirth in the six realms—being born and dying, dying and being born, arising and ceasing in an endless, beginningless cycle. It is because they follow the law of cause and effect. In terms of life, there are the three periods of past, present, and future.

The three periods may be regarded as a long span of time. On a shorter scale, the past, present, and future within a single life—even yesterday, today, and tomorrow—all follow this law of cause and effect.

Viewed in terms of causal relationships, the two past causes of “ignorance” and “formations” produce the five present results of “consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, and feeling.” The three present causes of “craving, grasping, and becoming” produce the two future results of “birth and aging-and-death.”

That is, causes created in the past form the results experienced in the present; causes created in the present will in turn form future results. Causes produce results, and results become causes; one creates and receives them oneself.

The twelve links of dependent origination may also be summarized as the three paths of delusion, karma, and suffering. Ignorance, craving, and grasping are the three afflictions, and afflictions constitute the path of delusion. The two links of formations and becoming belong to the path of karma. The seven links of consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, feeling, birth, and aging-and-death constitute the path of suffering. Delusion gives rise to karma, and karma brings painful results.

While undergoing suffering, one again gives rise to delusion; from delusion one again creates karma; and from creating karma one again undergoes suffering. Beyond the future there is still further future: the cycle repeats endlessly, as one revolves without end through birth and death in the six realms. If one does not arouse the resolve to cultivate, one will forever revolve without liberation amid this tangled web of delusion, karma, and suffering, within the beginningless and endless stream of life in which causes and results continually produce one another. The mutual coordination and continuous succession of these twelve links of dependent origination is called “the gate of contemplation in the forward order of cyclic continuation.”

In teaching the twelve links of dependent origination, the Buddha also tells us that the primary source of the revolving cycle of birth and death is ignorance. We have just contemplated these twelve links in the forward order and learned that all sentient beings revolve endlessly through the six realms in dependence on them; this is therefore called “the gate of contemplation in the forward order of cyclic continuation.” But merely knowing about cyclic continuation, without understanding the method of liberation, is still of no use.

This requires contemplating the twelve links of dependent origination in reverse order, which is called “the gate of reverse contemplation leading to cessation.” Practitioners of the pratyekabuddha vehicle contemplate the twelve links in reverse and understand that ignorance is the root of birth and death.

They then arouse the resolve to cultivate the Way and escape suffering, practicing the twelve links of dependent origination and thereby attaining the fruition of a pratyekabuddha, that is, the fruition of a pratyekabuddha awakened through conditions. Thus they are liberated from segmented birth and death and from the cycle of birth and death in the six realms. Ignorance means confusion and afflictions; it must first be eliminated. When ignorance ceases, formations cease—that is, one no longer acts delusively.

When formations cease, consciousness ceases, and the discriminating mind is no more. Without deluded action, one creates no karma and therefore receives no result. One no longer stirs consciousness in search of karmically connected parents in whom to be reborn; thus name-and-form ceases. Since there is no rebirth in a womb, how could the six sense faculties develop? Therefore, the six sense bases cease. When the six sense bases cease, contact ceases. If no fetus is born, there can be no contact with sense objects.

When contact ceases, feeling ceases. Since there is no physical body, how could there be feeling? To receive no feelings whatsoever is correct receptivity and correct samādhi. Without feeling, there is no craving. Without love or aversion, there is no grasping or rejecting; thus craving ceases and clinging ceases.

Without clinging, there is no becoming. Therefore, when “clinging” ceases, “becoming” ceases. Without craving and clinging, one does not create defiled karma; that is, one does not create karma and undergo retribution, nor does one enter a womb in a future life. Thus “birth” ceases. Without birth, there is no aging and death. Without birth, how can one speak of aging and death? Consequently, sorrow, grief, suffering, anguish, separation from the living, and parting from the dead are also absent.

From this we know that when ignorance ceases, the other eleven links, beginning with formations, all cease. Without delusion, there is no karma; without karma, there is no suffering. Practitioners of the pratyekabuddha vehicle cultivate this Dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination, destroy ignorance, attain the fruition of a pratyekabuddha, and thereby become liberated from segmented birth and death.

The Heart Sūtra says, “All dharmas are marked by emptiness.” The Dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination is likewise an illusory manifestation that has appeared since beginningless time; in its nature it is empty and originally nonexistent. As we have already explained, ignorance is not some concrete thing. Ignorance is empty in itself; it does not truly exist.

Since it does not exist, how could it be destroyed? In fact, there is no ignorance to destroy; with a single awakening, it is finished. Thus, “no ignorance” means that there is no solid, real ignorance awaiting your destruction. Ignorance is empty in itself, so do not take it as truly existent. With a single awakening, ignorance is gone.

Since there is no ignorance, why speak of completely destroying it? Without ignorance, there is no destruction; so what could “the end of ignorance” mean? Therefore, “nor the ending of ignorance” means that even “the complete destruction of ignorance” is absent. The two characters naizhi, “up to,” that follow are words of extension and omission, like the earlier phrase “up to no realm of consciousness.”

From ignorance to aging and death, there are twelve links of dependent origination. The ten intervening links are omitted and passed over; the same applies to those ten links. “No aging and death, nor the ending of aging and death”: all dharmas are marked by emptiness, and fundamentally there is no aging and death. Since there is no aging and death, what could its “ending” mean? In this way, both the forward contemplation of arising and continuation and the reverse contemplation of cessation in the Dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination are dismantled; nothing can be obtained.

The Heart Sūtra is a Mahāyāna dharma gate. “No ignorance, nor the ending of ignorance, up to no aging and death, nor the ending of aging and death” is intended to dismantle the attachment to dharmas of the pratyekabuddha vehicle. It points out that the Dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination that they cultivate is empty, fundamentally nonexistent, and wholly unobtainable, thereby teaching them to turn from the lesser vehicle toward the great vehicle.

All dharmas are empty. The Buddhadharma cannot be obtained, nor can one cling to the nature of mind; nothing can be obtained. Just as the Diamond Sūtra says: “Know that my teaching of Dharma is like a raft.” Dharma is a boat or raft for crossing a river. When we have crossed the bitter sea of birth and death and are about to reach the shore, we must not be reluctant to leave the ferryboat. Thus it says, “Know that my teaching of Dharma is like a raft. Even Dharma should be relinquished, how much more so what is not Dharma?” Even the dharmas for cultivating the Way and attaining Buddhahood must be relinquished, let alone all the empty and illusory worldly dharmas, which must all the more be relinquished.

At the same time, we should know that attaining Buddhahood does not necessarily require passing through the middle vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas or the lesser vehicle of the arhats. As long as we ordinary beings awaken and realize that all dharmas, being marked by emptiness, are unobtainable, and that everything is a manifestation of our own mind-nature and a functioning of true nature, that is enough.

When one confirms that all things in the universe are empty appearances that cannot be grasped, one does not cling to appearances or grasp at dharmas. One does not cling even to the nature of mind; true mind and true nature are likewise unobtainable. Then, in that very moment, one becomes a Buddha.

What is meant by becoming a Buddha? It means not clinging to appearances in the slightest, functioning in accordance with conditions: eating when hungry, dressing when cold, and sleeping when tired. There is not the least desirous mind or seeking mind. Everywhere one acts to accommodate others and benefit sentient beings, without considering oneself. This is to make use of things in accordance with conditions; this is freedom. Such freedom is Buddhahood.

It does not mean that one is a Buddha only when spiritual powers arise, enabling endless transformations, miraculous displays, and supernormal functioning. We must abide nowhere and accord with conditions in everything. If we can truly cling to no single dharma, and if the mind is truly empty in this way, then even if you do not seek spiritual powers, they will come to you. Yet although you attain spiritual powers, you do not cling to them and remain just like an ordinary person. Only when not a single dharma is established is it the true Buddhadharma.

Let us continue with the sūtra text:

“No suffering, origination, cessation, or path.” Suffering, origination, cessation, and path are the Dharma gate of the four truths: the truth of suffering, the truth of origination, the truth of cessation, and the truth of the path. They are also called the Four Noble Truths. Truth means real and without falsity—that is, “truth.”

When we began discussing the “five periods of teaching,” we explained that when the Buddha first realized the Way beneath the bodhi tree, he proclaimed the Mahāyāna Buddhadharma of the Avataṃsaka Sūtra. At that time, those of shallow capacities could not understand it. The Buddha therefore taught, respectively for practitioners of the three vehicles—śrāvakas, pratyekabuddhas, and bodhisattvas—the doctrines of the four truths, the twelve links of dependent origination, the six perfections, and so forth.

Those who hear the Dharma sound of the four truths taught by the Buddha, transcend the ordinary and enter sagehood, awaken to the Way, and attain the fruition of arhatship are called “śrāvakas,” or “arhats.” This is the śrāvaka vehicle, or arhat vehicle, whose saints belong to the lesser vehicle. The Dharma of the four truths includes two sets of cause and effect. The first is worldly cause and effect: the truths of suffering and origination. The truth of suffering is the worldly result, while the truth of origination is the worldly cause.

The second is supramundane cause and effect: the truths of cessation and the path. The truth of cessation is the supramundane result, while the truth of the path is the supramundane cause. If one understands the teaching of the Four Noble Truths, one can recognize suffering and cut off its origin, aspire to cessation and cultivate the path, thereby becoming liberated from segmented birth and death, transcending the three realms, and attaining the blissful fruition of the nirvāṇa of cessation. Let us now explain this in detail.

Why is the truth of suffering called a worldly result? Because it encompasses all the painful results of birth and death experienced by all sentient beings within the three realms, and these are summarized as three kinds of suffering: the suffering of suffering, the suffering of pleasure, and the suffering of conditioned existence. The suffering of suffering refers to the pain endured when body and mind are devastated, when suffering is added to suffering, misfortune piles upon misfortune, pain becomes unbearable, and one feels that life itself is unbearable.

For example, the suffering experienced in the three lower realms of hell beings, hungry ghosts, and animals is called the suffering of suffering. The suffering of pleasure is the pain felt after pleasurable circumstances are lost. Pleasure is not eternal; when pleasure disintegrates, suffering arises. Hence it is called the suffering of pleasure, also known as the suffering of change. For example, devas are far happier and more comfortable than human beings in our world, and their lives are much longer, but they eventually come to an end and still undergo the suffering of birth and death.

After death, according to the quality of their actions and the amount of wholesome and unwholesome karma they have created, they must still descend to undergo suffering. This is the suffering of pleasure. The suffering of conditioned existence means that all conditioned phenomena are impermanent and flow on without rest. There may be no pronounced sense of pain or pleasure, yet they change at every moment and cannot become settled; because they are impermanent, they are suffering.

The desire realm contains all three kinds of suffering. The form realm has the suffering of pleasure and the suffering of conditioned existence, while the formless realm has only the suffering of conditioned existence. Now that we know there is so much suffering within the three realms, and that the human world contains all three kinds of suffering, where does suffering come from? It is all created by mind alone; we make it ourselves and undergo it ourselves. In other words, it comes from the truth of origination.

Why is the truth of origination called a worldly cause? Originally, we have no mind; it is gathering that becomes mind: “Mind originally does not arise; it exists because of objects.” That is, because objects such as forms and sounds are present, we receive their images through the various conditions of objects, produce cognition, distinguish sameness and difference, give rise to love and aversion, grasping and rejecting, and generate all kinds of thoughts and notions.

These various minds arise through combination with the environment; they do not arise one-sidedly, independently, or in isolation. This is the first point. Second, origination means the gathering of all afflictions, delusions, and karma within the three realms. Because of afflictive delusion, one creates all kinds of karma, all of which one makes and undergoes oneself. By creating the causal condition of “origination,” one brings about the painful result of birth and death. This is therefore called the truth of origination, the source of worldly causes.

The truth of cessation is a supramundane result. Why? Cessation means quiescence and complete elimination. In quiescent non-contrivance, one can transcend the world. Such beings see clearly that the roots of suffering are all brought about by themselves. They aspire to transcend the three realms and attain the blissful fruition of quiescence that is neither arising nor ceasing. Therefore, they seek only their own liberation: “When arising and ceasing have ceased, quiescence is bliss.” They attain the fruition of arhatship, eliminate all afflictions and karmic power, and thereby free themselves from the birth-and-death cycle of the six realms. This is the truth of cessation. Yet it is nirvāṇa with remainder, because transformational birth and death has not yet been ended.

The truth of the path is a supramundane cause. Why is this so? Because they aspire to the blissful fruition of quiescence, they recognize “suffering” and cut off “origination,” aspire to “cessation” and cultivate the “path.” That is, they set about cultivating the path in order to cut off and eliminate the causal condition of “origination.”

Once we know that all states are flowers in empty space and the moon reflected in water, wholly unobtainable, we no longer become attached or greedy for them. Mind and objects do not combine. Without gathering, the causal condition of origination is cut off. For example, when we ordinarily recite the Buddha’s name, it is in order to eliminate this causal condition of origination.

As soon as a thought arises, the invocation “Amitābha Buddha” cuts it off, thereby severing this causal condition of origination. Chan school investigation of huatou is the same: when the sense of doubt arises, deluded thoughts do not proceed, and the causal condition of origination is cut off. With a single shout or blow, deluded thoughts are immediately severed, and this causal condition of origination is interrupted.

The cultivation of Esoteric Buddhism is the same. Through the empowerment of the three mysteries of body, speech, and mind, the mind is gathered into the Dharma being cultivated, thereby cutting off all worldly forms and deluded thoughts. Therefore, since one aspires to the blissful fruition beyond the world, one must cut off the worldly causal condition of origination and begin cultivating the path. This is the cause of realizing the Way.

In summary, the two truths of suffering and its origin, as taught by the Buddha, tell us the source of suffering; this is the worldly relation of cause and effect. The Buddha not only explained worldly cause and effect, enabling us to know whence suffering comes; more importantly, he explained supramundane cause and effect—the method for liberation from suffering. The two truths of cessation and the path teach that one must cultivate the path and eliminate the origin in order to attain quiescence and be freed from suffering.

Therefore, the Four Noble Truths may be summarized as: know suffering and eliminate its origin; aspire to cessation and cultivate the path. The Buddha's teaching of the Four Truths and the teaching of the twelve links of dependent origination express the same principle: they reveal the source of all the afflictions and sufferings of birth and death undergone by sentient beings in the three realms and six realms—namely, the worldly causal relationship of delusion, karma, and suffering. More importantly, they explain that the means of liberation from all suffering is to cultivate the path.

From this we can see that, in order to liberate sentient beings of different capacities who have the requisite affinities, the Buddha expressed the same principle through different teachings. This is the Buddha's compassion: in response to differing capacities, he bestowed differing teachings, using eighty-four thousand dharma gates to liberate eighty-four thousand kinds of sentient beings.

When the Buddha first taught the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, the capacities of the śrāvakas were relatively dull, and they could not accept this Mahāyāna dharma gate. The Buddha therefore expounded the dharma gate of the Four Truths in three ways, calling this the “three turnings of the Dharma wheel.”

The so-called Dharma wheel means that the Dharma taught by the Buddha does not remain fixed with one person or in one place. It is passed from person to person, expounded and circulated, transmitted generation after generation and proclaimed from place to place. Buddhism originated in India, spread to China, and then to Japan and other Asian countries; it has now been propagated to Europe, America, and elsewhere, indeed throughout the world.

It is like a wheel, turning without cease. What does “turning” mean? It means that the Buddha's teaching enables sentient beings to turn suffering into happiness, turn from what is deviant and return to what is right, turn from evil toward good, turn afflictions into bodhi, and turn birth and death into nirvāṇa. What are the three turnings? The first is the turning of demonstration, the second the turning of exhortation, and the third the turning of verification. Let us now discuss these three turnings separately.

The first is the turning of demonstration. The Buddha informed practitioners of the Lesser Vehicle of the nature of suffering. He said that suffering is oppressive. Since people living in the world must sustain their bodies in order to survive, they require clothing, food, shelter, and transportation. To satisfy these needs, they spend all day pursuing them, rushing about everywhere, busily toiling and working hard.

Thus people are compelled to suffer; their bodies and minds are forced to bear all kinds of pressures from every direction. Hence suffering is said to be oppressive. There are eight kinds of suffering, as explained earlier. They are mentioned here only briefly: the four sufferings of birth, aging, illness, and death that arise from our bodies; and the suffering of separation from those we love, encountering those we hate, not obtaining what we seek, and the blazing of the five aggregates, all brought about through karma. Together these are called the eight sufferings.

Tracing the cause further, where does suffering come from? It is all brought about by oneself: through one's own delusion and karma, one brings about the fruition of suffering. Thus, origin has the nature of bringing about.

How is it brought about? When we previously discussed the one hundred dharmas, we introduced the six fundamental afflictions of greed, anger, ignorance, pride, doubt, and wrong views; the ten minor subsidiary afflictions of resentment, hatred, vexation, concealment, deceit, flattery, arrogance, harmfulness, jealousy, and stinginess; the two intermediate subsidiary afflictions of lack of shame and lack of conscience; and the eight major subsidiary afflictions of disbelief, laziness, heedlessness, torpor, restlessness, loss of mindfulness, incorrect awareness, and distraction. This makes twenty-six afflictions in all. These are the causes of origin. Because of these twenty-six causes of origin, the eight fruits of suffering described above are brought about.

In short, because our suchness does not abide in its own nature, ignorance falsely arises and obscures our true mind. As a result, the true wisdom originally present becomes deluded seeing and deluded knowing. We grasp a small portion of the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—as our own physical basis, and the great trouble of human beings lies precisely in having a body.

It is because we have this body that we become attached to it. Where there is an “I,” there is what is “mine.” Once there is this body, we must sustain it, and thus require clothing, food, shelter, and transportation, continually seeking and possessing. Moreover, human greed knows no limits and is never satisfied.

Regarding the larger portion of earth, water, fire, and wind outside the body—the material world that serves as our external environment—we give rise to all kinds of deluded thoughts, thereby creating karma and undergoing karmic retribution. Thus, all fruits of suffering are brought about by ourselves; they are not caused by deities, King Yama, demons, or ghosts.

If we have opened wisdom and understand that this body has no fundamental reality, that it is fundamentally illusory and exists entirely because our deluded thoughts fabricate and grasp at objects.

then, if even the body does not truly exist, where can birth, aging, illness, and death be found? If we know that the body is merely a house in which we temporarily dwell, and not the true master—the true master being our suchness and Buddha-nature—then we will not cling to this body and prize it too highly. Nor will our desires become boundless and continually intensify, demanding this and seeking that without end.

As we live in this world, we then simply accord with conditions in all things. For all things are false and utterly unobtainable. Moreover, our need for such living conditions as clothing, food, shelter, and transportation is also merely habitual tendencies—habits formed over a long time—not something absolutely indispensable.

For example, someone accustomed to living in a garden villa will feel unaccustomed if he suddenly has to live in a thatched hut. But one who has long lived in a thatched hut may find it quite good and feel no discomfort. Thus, it is a matter of habit. In studying Buddhism, we must understand this fundamental point: everything is a function of our intrinsic nature.

“The three realms are mind-only; all phenomena are consciousness-only.” Everything is created by my own mind. Once we recognize this root, we let everything go, empty this mind, and accord with conditions in all things. Able to rise and able to fall, we are then at ease. Thus, to study Buddhism is to eliminate these causes of origin. If we can do so, we will no longer bring about the fruits of suffering.

Suffering is oppressive, and origin has the nature of bringing about. What, then, is cessation? Cessation has the nature of being realizable. Nirvāṇa can be realized; it is not merely empty talk. It can indeed truly be attained, and thus has the nature of being realizable. If people wish to leave suffering behind, they must aspire to the bliss of quiescent cessation. Therefore, arhats seek only their own liberation; this is the Lesser Vehicle.

But after truly attaining the fourth fruit of arhatship, one will certainly turn from the lesser to the greater. Seeing that great bodhisattvas emerge and submerge amid the six realms, practicing the bodhisattva path to liberate sentient beings, while one remains motionless in the city of nirvāṇa and cares only for one's own liberation—how could one not feel ashamed? One will certainly turn from the lesser to the greater and also liberate sentient beings, no longer seeking only one's own liberation.

After truly attaining the fruit of arhatship, one eliminates the four afflictions previously discussed: the ground of abiding in attachment to views, the ground of abiding in attachment to desire, the ground of abiding in attachment to form, and the ground of abiding in attachment to the formless. Yet the fifth affliction—the ground of abiding in ignorance—has not been eliminated. Thus one still falls into emptiness and abides in quiescence. Since transformational birth and death has not yet been eliminated, this is nirvāṇa with remainder, not ultimate nirvāṇa.

What is the path? The path has the nature of being cultivable. People in the world all delight in happiness and dislike suffering. Therefore, if one wishes to leave the three realms, be liberated from the painful fruition of the cycle of segmented birth and death, leave suffering and attain happiness, and realize the blissful fruition of quiescent cessation, one must arouse the resolve to cultivate the thirty-seven factors of awakening and cultivate precepts, samādhi, and wisdom. The basic practice begins with cultivating the precepts.

Use the precepts to eliminate the poison of greed: commit no evil and practice every good. From precepts arises samādhi; use samādhi to overcome the poison of anger. From samādhi wisdom arises; use wisdom to overcome the poison of ignorance. Then one can eliminate the afflictions of views and thoughts and eradicate delusion and karma. Without the causes of delusion and karma, one will not bring about the fruit of suffering in birth and death. The śrāvaka sages of the Lesser Vehicle take this as the path. “Path” means that which leads through; it is the provisions that lead to the state of nirvāṇa.

The thirty-seven factors of awakening are: the four establishments of mindfulness, the four right exertions, the four bases of spiritual power, the five faculties, the five powers, the seven factors of awakening, and the Noble Eightfold Path—thirty-seven in all. We shall now give a brief explanation of these thirty-seven factors of awakening, beginning with the four establishments of mindfulness.

Before cultivating the four establishments of mindfulness, sages of the Lesser Vehicle must first cultivate the five methods for calming the mind. These contemplations cause five kinds of faults to cease in the mind and can still the practitioner's distracted mind. This is called “samādhi,” meaning cessation and concentration. It is the initial entry into the path for practitioners of the Śrāvaka Vehicle, and the first of the three worthy stages of the Lesser Vehicle. There are five contemplations:

1. Contemplation of impurity: observe that all bodily bases and material environments are impure. Regard all states and all things as having the aspect of impurity; see men and women alike as white bones and skeletons, thereby stopping the mind of desire. Those with strong greed may cultivate this contemplation.

2. Contemplation of compassion: observe that all sentient beings are suffering and pitiable, thereby stopping anger. Those with much anger may cultivate this contemplation.

3. Contemplation of causes and conditions: observe that all dharmas arise from causes and conditions, and that the twelve links of dependent origination continue through the three times, with prior causes and later effects clearly distinguishable, thereby stopping ignorance. Those deeply afflicted by ignorance may cultivate this contemplation.

4. Contemplation of the distinction of realms: distinguish all dharmas into the six realms or eighteen realms. This is a method for stopping the view of self. Those with a strong view of self may cultivate this contemplation.

5. Contemplation of counting the breath: observe the inhalation and exhalation of the breath, count the breaths, and gather the mind upon the breath, so that mind and breath depend upon one another. In this way one stops the scattered mind. Those with much distraction may cultivate this contemplation.

Some combine the contemplation of causes and conditions with the contemplation of the distinction of realms, since the two are similar. Others add contemplation of the Buddha: observing the Buddha's auspicious marks and excellent characteristics, and the majestic adornment of his merit and virtue, thereby eliminating all afflictions. Those with heavy karmic obstacles may cultivate this contemplation.

In the “four establishments of mindfulness,” mindfulness is the wisdom that contemplates, while establishment is the object contemplated. To contemplate an object with wisdom is an establishment of mindfulness. This is a practice of wisdom that gives rise to the practitioner's wisdom of contemplation; it is called “śamatha.” There are four establishments of mindfulness:

First, establishment of mindfulness of the body: contemplate the body as impure. This is the same as the earlier contemplation of impurity. Within and without the human body, filth abounds and there is no place of purity; therefore, contemplate the body as impure.

Second, establishment of mindfulness of feeling: contemplate feeling as suffering. Feeling is the sensation of pleasure or pain, the mind's experience in response to objects. When mind and object join together, the fruit of suffering follows. Since there is no real happiness in the world, contemplate feeling as suffering.

Third, contemplation of mind: contemplate the impermanence of mind. Since mental thoughts change continuously from instant to instant, arising and ceasing without end, and never remain abiding, contemplate mind as impermanent.

Fourth, contemplation of dharmas: contemplate dharmas as without self. Since all dharmas lack an independent, self-existent nature, do not become attached to dharmas; therefore, contemplate dharmas as without self.

The four contemplations of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness all take wisdom as their basis. Because the truth of suffering in human beings has four aspects—body, feeling, mind, and dharmas—one contemplates body, feeling, mind, and dharmas as “impure, suffering, impermanent, and without self.” Through the power of wisdom-based contemplation, mindfulness abides in the objects contemplated—body, feeling, mind, and dharmas. That is, one settles the mind upon the Dharma path, making it upright rather than deviant.

“Four Right Exertions” means single-mindedly and diligently cultivating these four dharmas. They are also called the “Four Right Abandonments,” meaning that they can eliminate laziness; or the “Four Right Victories,” because among the means of encouraging body, speech, and mind, these are supreme. Because one resolves firmly in the mind and puts them into practice decisively, they are also called the “Four Intentional Abandonments.” The content of these four dharmas is as follows:

First, diligently strive to eliminate unwholesomeness that has already arisen.

Second, diligently strive to prevent unwholesomeness that has not yet arisen from arising.

Third, diligently strive to bring forth wholesomeness that has not yet arisen.

Fourth, diligently strive to increase wholesomeness that has already arisen.

The Four Right Exertions mean persevering diligently and cultivating earnestly. They encourage practitioners in these four respects, enabling them to eliminate evil and cultivate good through body, speech, and mind. In cultivating the Way, we must begin with body, speech, and mind; no dharma is separate from body, speech, and mind. Since the Four Right Exertions are supreme in this regard, they are also called the Four Right Victories.

“Four Bases of Accomplishment”: As we have just explained, the Four Foundations of Mindfulness cultivate wisdom—“true wisdom.” The Four Right Exertions cultivate “right diligence.” Although wisdom and diligence increase, practitioners may still be unable to fulfill their wishes because their power of meditative stability is weak. Therefore, they must cultivate these four forms of right concentration, the Four Bases of Accomplishment.

By using these four powers of concentration to gather in the mind, one brings concentration and wisdom into balance, gains an abundance of spiritual powers, and fulfills all one’s aspirations. Hence they are called the “Four Bases of Accomplishment,” and also the “Four Spiritual Bases.” “Accomplishment as desired” refers to the power of accomplishing whatever one wishes among the six supernormal powers, which arises from concentration. “Base” means that on which one relies. For example, our bodies stand by relying on the feet.

Thus, the supernormal power of accomplishing whatever one wishes among the six supernormal powers arises in reliance upon these four concentrations. Moreover, because cultivating concentration can give rise to the wondrous functioning of spiritual powers, one can do everything as one wishes: wherever one wishes to go, one can go. They are therefore also called the “Spiritual Bases.” In the stages of our cultivation of the Way, the ten faiths, ten abodes, ten practices, and ten dedications are called the stage of provisions; this is followed by the stage of preparation. These four concentrations are named in relation to that stage of preparation.

First, the spiritual base of desire: through the desire to cultivate at the stage of preparation, concentration arises. That is, when you wish to attain the concentration of this spiritual base, the power of desire gives rise to concentration.

Second, the spiritual base of diligence: diligently cultivate this concentration at the stage of preparation. Through vigorous, assiduous, and unremitting effort, the power of diligence gives rise to concentration.

Third, the spiritual base of mind: at the stage of preparation, concentrate single-mindedly. Through the power of right mindfulness, concentration arises.

Fourth, the spiritual base of contemplation: at the stage of preparation, observe principle—that is, contemplate. Do not allow the mind to become lax or scattered. Through the power of contemplation, concentration arises.

Although there are many dharmas at the stage of preparation, these four are the most beneficial and supreme; therefore, they are called the Four Bases of Accomplishment.

“Five Faculties”: “Faculty” means that which gives rise to and increases. For example, grasses and trees grow through their roots. The Five Faculties are the faculty of faith, the faculty of diligence, the faculty of mindfulness, the faculty of concentration, and the faculty of wisdom. All dharmas begin with faith.

The “faculty of faith” is faith in the Three Jewels and in the Dharma of the Four Noble Truths. When the faculty of faith is firm, one can diligently cultivate. The “faculty of diligence,” also called the faculty of effort, is vigorous and courageous cultivation of the Dharma. The “faculty of mindfulness” is never forgetting the true Dharma from thought to thought. The “faculty of concentration” causes the mind to rest on a single object without becoming scattered. The “faculty of wisdom” develops wisdom and enables one to recognize truth. These Five Faculties are the basis for generating all wholesome dharmas. When the Five Faculties are firm, they can give rise to the Five Powers.

“Five Powers”: “Power” means function. When the Five Faculties increase, they cannot be damaged by afflictions and acquire the power to counteract the five hindrances. They are the power of faith, the power of diligence, the power of mindfulness, the power of concentration, and the power of wisdom.

The “power of faith”: when the faculty of faith increases, it can destroy all wrong beliefs. The “power of diligence”: when the faculty of diligence increases, it can destroy bodily laziness. The “power of mindfulness”: when the faculty of mindfulness increases, it can destroy all wrong thoughts. For example, when we recollect the Buddha at every moment, it is to eliminate the wrong thoughts of the three poisons—greed, anger, and ignorance. The “power of concentration”: when the faculty of concentration increases, it can destroy all confused thoughts; once one has the power of concentration, one will no longer indulge in wild thoughts. The “power of wisdom”: when the faculty of wisdom increases, it can destroy all delusions in the three realms, including the afflictions of views and thoughts within the three realms.

“Seven Factors of Awakening”: awakening means realization and awareness. This Dharma can bring concentration and wisdom into balance. Awakening is not singular; there are seven kinds of awakening dharmas, and hence they are called factors or divisions: the Seven Factors of Awakening, or the Seven Divisions of Awakening. Moreover, because the Seven Factors of Awakening are seven forms of awakening manifested through the Five Faculties and Five Powers, and because cultivating this Dharma can lead to the right path of bodhi, they are also called the “Seven Factors of Bodhi.” They are: the factor of awakening of discernment of dharmas, the factor of awakening of diligence, the factor of awakening of joy, the factor of awakening of ease, the factor of awakening of mindfulness, the factor of awakening of concentration, and the factor of awakening of equanimity.

First, the factor of awakening of discernment of dharmas: use wisdom to select the dharma to be cultivated. Whenever practitioners begin to cultivate the Way, they must first select a suitable dharma. This has two meanings: first, use wisdom to distinguish whether a dharma gate is genuine or false, choosing what is right and rejecting what is deviant; second, choose a dharma gate suited to one’s own capacities, for this makes attainment easier. It is like a sick person: if the medicine suits the illness, the illness will be cured; if it does not suit the illness, it will not be cured.

Second, the factor of awakening of diligence: once one has selected a suitable dharma gate, one must earnestly put the true Dharma into practice with a courageous mind, diligently and without slackening. Interruption, practicing at times and stopping at others, or applying oneself one day and neglecting it for ten, will not do.

Third, the factor of awakening of joy: when the mind attains wholesome dharmas, joy arises; one is filled with Dharma joy and delights in cultivating the Dharma.

Fourth, the factor of awakening of ease: when one cultivates the Dharma properly, one can eliminate the coarse and heavy afflictions of body and mind, thereby attaining ease and peace.

Fifth, the factor of awakening of mindfulness: at every moment, contemplate concentration and wisdom without forgetting them, so that they remain balanced.

Sixth, the factor of awakening of concentration: cause the mind to rest on a single object, without becoming scattered.

Seventh, the factor of awakening of equanimity: relinquish all false dharmas and abide in nothing whatsoever. Our intrinsic nature extends throughout empty space and the dharma realm and fully possesses immeasurable, boundless wondrous functions. What more could we need? We need nothing at all. An ancient Chan master said, “There is not a single thing that can engage the mind.” Relinquish everything; let go of everything.

Among the seven factors of awakening described above, if a practitioner’s mind is agitated, use the three factors of awakening of ease, equanimity, and concentration to gather it in. If the mind is sunk and dull, use the three factors of awakening of discernment of dharmas, diligence, and joy to arouse it. There are three factors each for concentration and wisdom; use whichever one is appropriate, and stop once benefit is obtained. The factor of awakening of mindfulness constantly keeps concentration and wisdom in mind and applies to both, bringing concentration and wisdom into balance. Choose among the other six factors according to the practitioner’s needs, as explained above.

“Noble Eightfold Path”: This Dharma is the road leading to nirvāṇa, and is therefore called a path. Because this path is free from bias and deviance, it is called the right path. It is the path cultivated by noble ones and can lead to the fruition of arhatship; hence it is also called the noble path. It consists of right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right diligence, right mindfulness, and right concentration. These are called the Noble Eightfold Path, or the Eightfold Noble Path.

First, right view: after seeing the principle of the Four Noble Truths—suffering, its origin, cessation, and the path—one has correct understanding and views. Its basis is undefiled wisdom.

Second, right thought: after seeing the principle of the Four Noble Truths, one can think correctly, enabling true wisdom to increase. Its basis is the undefiled mind.

Third, right speech: cultivate verbal karma with true wisdom, and do not utter any speech contrary to principle. The Confucians say, “Do not speak what is contrary to propriety.” Its basis is undefiled discipline.

Fourth, right action: with true wisdom, eliminate all wrong bodily karma and all improper conduct, and instead perform pure bodily karma and proper conduct. Its basis is undefiled discipline.

Fifth, right livelihood: purify the three karmas of body, speech, and mind; live in accordance with the true Dharma; pursue a proper occupation; and abandon wrong occupations. Its basis is undefiled discipline. If, for the sake of fame and profit, one seeks material support for an extravagant life, this is called wrong livelihood. There are five kinds: (1) displaying unusual appearances deceptively before ordinary people in order to obtain gain and support.

(2) Proclaiming one’s own merits in order to obtain gain and support. (3) Divining fortune and misfortune, reading faces, and telling fortunes in order to obtain gain and support. (4) Making grand and boastful claims, putting on an imposing manner, exaggerating, deceiving and intimidating people in order to obtain gain and support. (5) Speaking of benefits one has obtained in order to delude and stir people’s minds, seeking gain and support.

Sixth, right diligence: apply true wisdom and diligently cultivate the path to nirvāṇa. Nothing in the world is difficult; one need only have resolve. Its basis is undefiled diligence.

Seventh, right mindfulness: with true wisdom, recollect the right path and be free of wrong thoughts. Its basis is undefiled mindfulness.

Eighth, right concentration: with true wisdom, enter undefiled and pure dhyāna and concentration. Its basis is undefiled concentration. This concentration is the great concentration without entering or leaving: wherever and whenever one encounters circumstances, the mind does not move and does not become confused.

In the Noble Eightfold Path, the right path is primary; as a whole, it is undefiled and is the practice of the stage of seeing the Way. The Seven Factors of Awakening are the practices of the stage of cultivating the Way. Therefore, the Seven Factors of Awakening and the Noble Eightfold Path belong to the stages of practice.

The foregoing are the thirty-seven factors of the path, which are teachings of the Lesser Vehicle. Their basic practices are the three trainings of discipline, concentration, and wisdom. Discipline destroys greed, concentration destroys anger, and wisdom destroys ignorance. When the afflictions of views and thoughts are completely eliminated and delusion and karma are destroyed, there is no longer any fruit of suffering in birth and death to be experienced. One then leaves the three realms and attains the bliss of the truth of cessation, nirvāṇa. Thus, “the path can be cultivated.” This is the first turning of the Buddha’s Dharma wheel—the turning of demonstration.

The second turning is the exhortative turning: it encourages people to cultivate the Way. The Buddha said that suffering is oppressive in nature; you should understand this. For if one does not feel suffering, one will not be willing to cultivate the Way. Only when one understands the immeasurable sufferings of the cycle of birth and death does one seek liberation and become willing to cultivate the Way. You should understand that accumulation is attractive in nature: through the causes of accumulation one creates oneself, one attracts the bitter fruits of birth and death that one must oneself undergo.

Therefore, you should cultivate the Way! The Way is capable of being cultivated: when all the causes of accumulation in the form of afflictions are eliminated, there will be no bitter fruits of birth and death, and one can realize the nirvāṇa that neither arises nor ceases. Cessation is capable of realization; you should realize it! This is the Buddha’s compassionate exhortative turning.

The third turning is the testimonial turning, in which the Buddha bore witness through the experience of his own personal cultivation and realization. The Buddha said, “I have already undergone the various sufferings of human life. I have already known the true truth. My life experience can serve as testimony. I have already cut off accumulation. Because I cultivated the Way, I eliminated all the causes of accumulation in the form of afflictions. Therefore, I have brought birth and death to an end and realized the truth of cessation, nirvāṇa.”

Through the Buddha’s three turnings of the Dharma wheel in expounding the teaching of the Four Noble Truths, śrāvakas of the Lesser Vehicle came to know suffering, eliminate accumulation, yearn for cessation, cultivate the Way, and realize the Way. Suffering, accumulation, cessation, and the Way constitute the dharma realm of śrāvakas (arhats). By hearing the Buddha expound the teaching of the Four Noble Truths through the three turnings of the Dharma wheel, śrāvakas awakened to the Way and realized nirvāṇa.

If, afterward, one still clings to the teaching of the Four Noble Truths—suffering, accumulation, cessation, and the Way—one can only be liberated from segmented birth and death and escape the cycle of birth and death in the three realms; one cannot bring transformational birth and death to an end. Because attachment to dharmas remains, one can attain only nirvāṇa with remainder, which is ultimately not final nirvāṇa.

For this reason, in order to eliminate the śrāvakas’ attachment to dharmas—the notions that suffering exists to be abandoned, accumulation exists to be eliminated, a path exists to be cultivated, and nirvāṇa exists to be realized—the Buddha clearly taught in the Mahāyāna prajñā Heart Sūtra, “no suffering, accumulation, cessation, or path.” He wished them to understand that birth and death and nirvāṇa are also like flowers in empty space, illusorily present; in ultimate reality, they are originally nonexistent.

The very nature of all self-natures is emptiness: neither arising nor ceasing. How could there be any nirvāṇa to attain? The dharma of the five aggregates is the mother of all dharmas; we have already discussed this. The dharma of the five aggregates is empty in itself. When the mother is empty, the children too do not exist! Thus, the teaching of the Four Noble Truths is itself also empty. Therefore, there is no suffering to be left behind, no accumulation to be eliminated, no cessation to be realized, and no path to be cultivated—that is, “no suffering, accumulation, cessation, or path.”

True emptiness reveals wondrous presence: birth and death are nirvāṇa, suffering is liberation, and afflictions are bodhi. Through this teaching of “no suffering, accumulation, cessation, or path,” the Buddha enabled śrāvakas to turn from the Lesser to the Greater Vehicle, understand the Mahāyāna principle of true emptiness and wondrous presence, and refrain from clinging, abiding, or attaching to anything. In this way, they truly attain great freedom and final nirvāṇa.

“No wisdom and no attainment.” No wisdom means that there is no wisdom of prajñā to be realized. No attainment means that there is no Buddha to become and no fruit of bodhi to attain. The Buddha spoke in this way in order to eliminate bodhisattvas’ attachment to dharmas.

Bodhisattvas cultivate the myriad practices of the six perfections: they use giving to overcome stinginess, upholding the precepts to overcome defilement, forbearance to overcome anger, diligence to overcome laziness, meditative stability to overcome distraction, and wisdom to overcome ignorance.

Because they cultivate these dharmas, they become firmly attached to them, believing that there are dharmas to cultivate, prajñā wisdom to attain, sentient beings to liberate, and Buddhahood to realize. Inevitably, images of these six pāramitās remain in their minds. Their minds of attachment to existence have not been forgotten, and thus they retain attachment to dharmas and subtle views of dharmas. Their minds are not empty and pure, so they cannot attain final nirvāṇa. The Buddha said, “No wisdom and no attainment,” thereby clearly showing bodhisattvas that even the wisdom of the six perfections is not ultimate wisdom, and that the fruition attained through it is not the ultimate fruit of Buddhahood.

A monastic asked Chan Master Dazhu Huihai, “What is the karma of birth and death?” Dazhu replied, “Seeking great nirvāṇa is the karma of birth and death. Rejecting impurity and grasping at purity is the karma of birth and death. Having attainment and realization is the karma of birth and death. Failing to transcend the gate of antidotal practices is the karma of birth and death.” This is what the Amitābha Sūtra calls the “turbidity of views”: it is defilement, which confuses practitioners. Originally, seeking great nirvāṇa is meant to bring liberation and Buddhahood; yet, because one’s understanding is incorrect and one gives rise to a mind of grasping and rejecting, it instead becomes karma of birth and death. Is that not regrettable?

Moreover, both wisdom and lack of wisdom are functions of the illusory mind. Both are empty in nature and are merely provisional names. Originally, not a single dharma can be attained; to force a division into two—is that not ignorance? In the past, the World-Honored One received a prediction of future Buddhahood from Dīpaṃkara Buddha, foretelling unsurpassed bodhi. Yet the World-Honored One did not take this as something sacred, for he knew that all things are empty in nature and without reality; not the slightest dharma can be attained. It is merely provisionally called bodhi.

Therefore, only when bodhisattvas reach the point of “no self in dharmas” can their hindrances be considered completely eliminated. For this reason, within the empty characteristics of all dharmas, emptiness of all dharmas is taken as the dharma body.

The dharmas of the six perfections, as well as the eighteen realms, the twelve links of dependent origination, the teaching of the Four Noble Truths, and the aggregate of all dharmas—the dharma of the five aggregates—all are like reflections in a mirror’s light, utterly unattainable. Therefore, they are called “nonexistent,” or “empty.” This emptiness is not stubborn emptiness or annihilationist emptiness; it is wondrous presence and true emptiness.

It is like a mirror’s light: all reflections arise in dependence on that light, yet one cannot cling to the mirror’s light as truly existent. This means that within the true emptiness of ultimate reality, although one practices the six perfections, one has no view of practicing the six perfections and clings to not a single dharma. Not clinging to the existence of six perfections to practice is “no wisdom”; having no mind that seeks the fruit of attainment, and no Buddha to become, is “no attainment.” Through this great and thorough awakening, the afflictions of the five abidings are completely eliminated, and the two forms of birth and death perish forever.

“Because there is nothing to attain.” We have already explained that this Heart Sūtra takes “nothing to attain” as its principle. This sentence, “because there is nothing to attain,” is meant to make you understand the central purpose of this sūtra; it is also a sentence summarizing all that has been said above.

Here the Buddha further indicates that the five aggregates, the eighteen realms, the twelve links of dependent origination, the teaching of the Four Noble Truths, the six pāramitās, wisdom, attainment, and so forth are all originally empty, and that in truth there is nothing to attain. Then the Dharma function of prajñā naturally manifests: one neither inclines toward emptiness nor clings to existence. Whatever one takes up at hand becomes a wondrous truth, and inexhaustible wondrous functions appear wherever the mind reaches.