No Earlier Age Had Heard Its Like

The Great Calming and Contemplation, Fascicle One, Upper Part
Spoken by the Great Master Zhiyi of Tiantai, of the Sui dynasty
Recorded by his disciple Guanding

Calming-and-contemplation, luminous and still — no earlier age had heard its like. In the fourteenth year of the Kaihuang era of the great Sui, on the twenty-sixth day of the fourth month, the Master, at Yuquan Monastery in Jingzhou, spread this teaching through a single summer's retreat, its rain of compassion falling morning and evening. Though he delighted in teaching without exhaustion, he had reached only the discussion of "the objects contemplated" when the wheel of the Dharma stopped turning, and its latter portion was never proclaimed. Yet one may still trace the stream back to its source, and follow the fragrance back to its root. A treatise says: "In my own practice, I had no teacher to rely on." A sūtra says: "He received his prediction of buddhahood from Dīpaṃkara." A classical text says: "Those born already knowing are of the highest kind; those who attain knowledge through study come next." Is this vast and wondrous Dharma-gate, then, a light shining from heaven-born nature alone, needing nothing else — or is it "indigo drawn out from the indigo plant," a blue deeper than the blue it came from? If the practitioner hears the Account of the Transmission of the Dharma-Treasury, they will come to recognize this teaching's own lineage and source.

The Great Enlightened World-Honored One, his practice over many kalpas fulfilled, passed through six years subduing wrong views, and with a single raised finger vanquished Māra. Teaching first at the Deer Park, then at Vulture Peak, and last beneath the twin śāla trees, he entrusted the Dharma to Mahākāśyapa. Kāśyapa divided the relics into eight shares, compiled the Tripiṭaka, and entrusted the Dharma to Ānanda. Ānanda, in the middle of a river, entered the wind-samādhi and divided his body into four streams; he entrusted the Dharma to Śāṇakavāsa. He, with both hands, poured forth two streams of ambrosia and manifested five hundred dharma-gates; he entrusted the Dharma to Upagupta. He, while still a layman, attained the third fruit, and upon receiving ordination attained the fourth; he entrusted the Dharma to Dhītika. He, upon ascending the ordination platform, attained the first fruit, and through the threefold formal procedure attained the fourth; he entrusted the Dharma to Miccaka. He entrusted it to Buddhanandi. He entrusted it to Buddhamitra. He gave the three refuges to a king and subdued a heretical diviner; he entrusted the Dharma to the Venerable Pārśva. He was born from the womb with hair already white, and light shone from his hand as he took up the sūtras; he entrusted the Dharma to Puṇyayaśas. He, in debate, defeated Aśvaghoṣa, who then shaved his head to become his disciple. Aśvaghoṣa composed the play Rāṣṭrapāla, whose melody proclaimed impermanence, suffering, and emptiness, so that those who heard it awakened to the Way; he entrusted the Dharma to Kapimala. He composed the Treatise on No-Self, and wherever it reached, wrong views dissolved of themselves; he entrusted the Dharma to Nāgārjuna. His name itself tells his story — the "tree" naming his birth in the flesh, the "dragon" naming the completion of his Dharma-body; he entrusted the Dharma to Āryadeva. He opened the heavenly eye within himself and bestowed its sight upon ten thousand eyes of flesh; he entrusted the Dharma to Rāhulabhadra. He could read the very script of ghosts, and subdued non-Buddhist rivals; he entrusted the Dharma to Saṅghānandi. He spoke a verse to test an arhat; he entrusted the Dharma to Saṅghayaśas. He, journeying by sea, beheld a city and spoke a verse upon it; he entrusted the Dharma to Kumāralāta. He, upon seeing ten thousand horsemen pass, recorded the color of every horse, the name of every rider, and the cut of every garment; he entrusted the Dharma to Jayata. He, for a man who had committed a grave offense, conjured a pit of fire and had him enter it in repentance — the pit became a pool, and the offense was extinguished; he entrusted the Dharma to Vasubandhu the Elder. He entrusted it to Manorhita. He divided the Ganges into two streams, transforming one of them by his own power alone; he entrusted the Dharma to Haklenayaśas. He entrusted it to Siṃha. Siṃha was put to death by King Damira; when the sword fell, milk, not blood, flowed from the wound. Those who transmitted the Dharma-treasury, beginning with Kāśyapa and ending with Siṃha, number twenty-three; counting Madhyāntika, reckoned together with Śāṇakavāsa as his contemporary, makes twenty-four. Every one of these masters was foretold by the Buddha's own golden mouth, and every one was a sage, able to bring great benefit to others. Of old, a king would not build his stables at a monastery, choosing to build them by a slaughterhouse instead — how much more, then, in a good age, does one who actually encounters a sage fail to benefit? And there was once a brāhmaṇa who traded in skulls, testing each by whether a probe passed cleanly through it, halfway through, or not at all — the skull it passed cleanly through belonged to one who, in life, had built stūpas, paid reverence, and made offerings, and so had gained rebirth in heaven. The merit of hearing the essential Dharma is like this. It was for this very benefit that the Buddha caused the Dharma-treasury to be transmitted at all.

As for this Calming-and-Contemplation: the Tiantai Master Zhiyi expounded the dharma-gate practiced within his own mind. When the Master was born, light filled the room, and his eyes showed a double pupil in each. Practicing the Lotus Repentance, he gave rise to dhāraṇī, and, standing in for his own teacher, lectured on the gold-lettered Prajñāpāramitā. Both the Chen and the Sui courts honored him as Teacher to the Emperor. He passed away seated in meditation, his own attainment resting, by his own account, at no more than the Five Grades of Disciple. Yet the sūtra says: "One who gives to four hundred myriad koṭis of nayutas of people, bestowing on each of them the seven treasures, and moreover leads them all to attain the six supernormal powers — this does not equal one hundred-thousand myriad koṭi-th part of the merit of the very first person who simply rejoices on hearing the sūtra." How much more, then, the Five Grades? The text also says: "Such a one is the Tathāgata's own messenger, sent by the Tathāgata, carrying out the Tathāgata's work." And the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "This is a bodhisattva of the first reliance."

The Master served as disciple to Nanyue [Huisi]. Nanyue's own virtue and practice were beyond conception: ten years devoted wholly to recitation of the Lotus Sūtra, seven years given to the Vaipulya repentance rite, ninety days of unbroken sitting — and in a single moment he perfectly realized the Dharma, the gates of the teaching, both lesser and great, opening forth in luminous clarity all at once. Nanyue in turn served as disciple to the Chan Master Huiwen, who, in the era of Northern Qi's Emperor Gao, walked alone and unrivaled across the region of the Yellow River and the Huai — his Dharma-gate unknown to his own age, one who trod the earth and bore up the sky with none able to fathom its height or depth. Master Huiwen's own use of mind relied entirely on the Śāstra — a treatise spoken by Nāgārjuna, the thirteenth master named in the Account of the Transmission of the Dharma-Treasury. The Master's own Treatise on the Contemplation of Mind says: "I take refuge in the Master Nāgārjuna." From this it can be confirmed that Nāgārjuna is Tiantai's own high patriarch and teacher. One who doubts this may object: "The Middle Treatise sweeps everything away, while the Calming-and-Contemplation builds a positive teaching up — how can the two be called the same?" Yet in India, commentators on that treatise numbered some seventy schools in all; it would hardly do to follow only Piṅgala's reading of it and set every other master's aside. And the Treatise itself says: "Whatever arises through causes and conditions, this I declare to be empty; it is also called a provisional name; and it is also the meaning of the middle way" — and so on.

Tiantai transmits from Nanyue three kinds of calming-and-contemplation: first, the gradual; second, the indeterminate; third, the perfect-and-sudden. All three are Mahāyāna, all three take the true mark of reality as their object, and all three alike bear the name "calming-and-contemplation." The gradual is shallow at first and deep at the end, like climbing a stairway rung by rung. The indeterminate moves back and forth between earlier and later, like a vajra jewel set out in the sunlight, flashing now this color, now that. The perfect-and-sudden makes no two of beginning and end, like one who has mastered flight simply rising into the sky. These three are spoken for three kinds of capacity, taught as three dharma-gates, and illustrated by three similes. Having stated this in brief, we now explain it at greater length.

As for the gradual: from the very first, it too takes the true mark of reality as what is known — but the true mark of reality is hard to understand, while the gradual approach is easy to carry out. One first cultivates the refuges and the precepts, turning from wrong to right, halting the paths of fire, blood, and the sword, and reaching the three wholesome destinies. Next one cultivates dhyāna-concentration, halting desire and the net of distraction, and reaching the path of the form and formless concentrations. Next one cultivates the uncontaminated, halting the prison of the three realms, and reaching the path of nirvāṇa. Next one cultivates compassion, halting at merely one's own realization, and reaching the bodhisattva path. Last one cultivates the true mark of reality itself, halting the two one-sided extremes, and reaching the path of what abides forever. This is the mark of the gradual calming-and-contemplation, shallow at the start and deep at the end.

As for the indeterminate: it has no separate ladder of stages. Taking the gradual as what comes before and the sudden as what comes after, it may move further forward or further back, now shallower, now deeper — sometimes phenomenal conduct, sometimes principle; sometimes pointing to "the worldly" and calling it "ultimate meaning," sometimes pointing to "ultimate meaning" and calling it "for the individual" or "the antidote"; sometimes taking the stilling of contemplation itself as calming, sometimes taking the illumination within calming itself as contemplation. Hence it is called the indeterminate calming-and-contemplation. One who doubts this may say: "If the teaching and its objects share the same names [across gradual, indeterminate, and sudden], how can their marks turn out so suddenly different?" Yet they are the same yet not the same, not the same yet the same. Within the gradual there are six; wholesome and unwholesome each further divide into three; within the uncontaminated, taken as a whole, there are three more — twelve differences in all — and, speaking from the greater number, it is called indeterminate. [One may further ask:] this chapter is the same Mahāyāna, the same true mark of reality, the same name "calming-and-contemplation" throughout — why, then, speak of distinguishing differences at all? Yet again, they are the same yet not the same, not the same yet the same. Within the gradual there are nine differences, within the indeterminate four, thirteen in all — and, speaking from the greater number, it is called "different." This is the very meaning of "every sage alike takes the unconditioned Dharma as their basis, and yet differs."

As for the perfect-and-sudden: from the very first it takes the true mark of reality as its object — every object one arrives at is already the middle, nothing about it not already real. Binding the mind to the dharma-realm, a single thought is itself the dharma-realm; a single color, a single scent — none of it is anything other than the middle way. One's own realm, the buddha-realm, and the realm of sentient beings are exactly the same. The aggregates and sense-bases are all thusness itself, with no suffering left to be abandoned; ignorance and the dust of affliction are themselves bodhi, with no accumulation left to be severed; the extreme and the deviant are themselves the correct middle, with no path left to be cultivated; birth-and-death is itself nirvāṇa, with no cessation left to be realized. Since there is no suffering and no accumulation, there is no "mundane world"; since there is no path and no cessation, there is no "world-transcending" either. It is purely and simply the one true mark of reality, with nothing else apart from that true mark at all. The Dharma-nature, still and silent, is called "calming"; that same stillness, ceaselessly illuminating, is called "contemplation." Though beginning and end are spoken of, there is no two of them, no separateness at all — this is called the perfect-and-sudden calming-and-contemplation. Setting the gradual and the indeterminate aside for now without further discussion, we turn to the sūtras themselves to clarify the perfect-and-sudden further.

As the bodhisattva Sudṛḍhādhyāśaya, of thoroughly penetrated and profound wondrous virtue, has said: "When a bodhisattva, amid birth-and-death, first sets the mind on enlightenment, resolved single-mindedly to seek bodhi, that resolve is firm and cannot be shaken. The merit of that one single thought is deep and vast, without any shore or boundary — were the Tathāgata to explain it in full detail, he could not exhaust it though the kalpas ran out." Such a bodhisattva hears the perfect Dharma, gives rise to perfect faith, establishes perfect practice, abides in the perfect stage, adorns themself with perfect merit, and, by perfect power and function, establishes sentient beings [in the same].

What is meant by "hearing the perfect Dharma"? Hearing that birth-and-death is itself the Dharma-body; that affliction is itself prajñā; that binding karma is itself liberation. Though these are three names, they have no three separate essences; though there is one essence, three names are set up for it — these three are one and the same mark, with, in truth, no difference between them at all. If the Dharma-body is ultimate, then prajñā and liberation are equally ultimate. If prajñā is pure, the others are equally pure. If liberation is free and unobstructed, the others are equally free and unobstructed. Hearing of any and every dharma is exactly the same: each is complete with the whole of the Buddhadharma, with nothing whatsoever lacking. This is called "hearing the perfect Dharma."

What is "perfect faith"? Believing that every dharma is at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle; that there is no "one, two, three" of them, and yet there is "one, two, three"; that the absence of "one, two, three" is a negating of "one, two, three," while the presence of "one, two, three" is an illuminating of "one, two, three" — and that this negating and this illuminating are both alike ultimate, pure, and free. Hearing of the profound, one is not terrified; hearing of the vast, one does not doubt; hearing that it is neither profound nor vast in any fixed sense, the mind still finds courage in it. This is called "perfect faith."

What is "perfect practice"? Single-mindedly and exclusively seeking unsurpassed bodhi, taking the very extreme itself as the middle, turning toward nothing else, cultivating all three truths at once and in full. Neither stilled by the extreme of non-being nor moved by the extreme of being, neither stilled nor moved, one enters the middle way directly — this is called "perfect practice." What is "entering the perfect stage"? At the moment of entering the first abiding-stage, one abiding is every abiding; everything is at once ultimate, everything pure, everything free — this is called the "perfect stage."

What is "perfect, free adornment"? That sūtra explains the mark of this freedom at length: one may enter absorption through this sense-faculty and rise from it, expounding the Dharma, through that one; one may, through a single faculty, both enter and rise at once; or, through a single faculty, neither enter nor rise at all — and every other faculty, each in turn, is exactly the same. One may enter absorption through this sense-object and rise through that one; enter and rise at once through a single object; or neither enter nor rise through a single object — and every other object, each in turn, is exactly the same. One may enter absorption in this direction and rise, expounding the Dharma, in that direction; enter and rise at once in a single direction; or neither enter nor rise in a single direction. One may enter absorption through one single thing, rise through that same one thing, enter and rise at once through it, or neither enter nor rise through it. To state it in full: within a single sense-faculty, a single sense-object, there is entering, there is rising, there is entering-and-rising-at-once, there is neither-entering-nor-rising — each and every one free, within one's own direct retribution, and exactly the same within one's environmental retribution as well. This is called "perfect, free adornment." It is like sunlight encompassing the four continents at once: in one quarter it is dawn, in another dusk, in another midnight — a single wheeling motion appearing differently in four places, though it is only ever the one sun. The bodhisattva's own freedom is exactly the same.

What is "perfect power and function establishing sentient beings"? A single beam of light, once released, can grant sentient beings the benefit of the empty, the provisional, and the middle all at once, the benefit of entering, of rising, of entering-and-rising-together, of neither entering nor rising — and it is exactly the same across walking, standing, sitting, lying down, speaking, keeping silent, every action whatsoever. Those with the karmic connection to see it are like eyes beholding light itself; those without it perceive nothing, as blind eyes remain forever in the dark. Hence the simile of the dragon king is raised: reaching vertically through the six heavens and spanning horizontally the four continents, it raises clouds of every kind, sends thunder of every kind, flashes lightning of every kind, and sends down rain of every kind — and yet the dragon, in its own palace, never moves or stirs, even as its manifestations differ endlessly. The bodhisattva is exactly the same: inwardly penetrating the empty, the provisional, and the middle all at once, without ever moving the Dharma-nature itself, they still cause beings to obtain every kind of benefit and every kind of function. This is called "perfect power and function establishing sentient beings." If this is already so at the very first thought of enlightenment, how much more at the middle and final stages? This is why the Tathāgata praises this Dharma so earnestly, and why those who hear it rejoice. Sadāprarudita begged in the east; Sudhana sought throughout the south; Bhaiṣajyarāja burned his own arm; Samantaprabhāsa cut off his own head — giving up bodies as numerous as the sands of the Ganges three times a day would still not repay the power of even a single phrase of this teaching, much less shouldering it on both shoulders through a hundred thousand myriad kalpas repay the debt owed to the Buddhadharma itself. This is so of this one sūtra's own account, and every other sūtra says exactly the same.

One who doubts this may say: "We would wish to hear genuine scriptural proof for the other two as well." The sūtras and treatises are vast beyond measure and cannot be cited in full — only one or two examples are given for each. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "First seated beneath the bodhi tree, by his power he subdued Māra; attaining the deathless cessation, the path of enlightenment was accomplished; three times he turned the Dharma-wheel throughout the great trichiliocosm — and that wheel, from the very first, was always pure. That gods and men attained the Way was itself the proof of this, and the Three Jewels thereupon appeared in the world." This is the very beginning of the gradual teaching. It also says: "The Buddha, with a single voice, expounds the Dharma, yet sentient beings, each according to their own kind, understand it differently — some feel fear, some rejoice, some give rise to weariness, some have their doubts severed. This is indeed a power belonging to him alone." This proves the indeterminate teaching. It also says: "The Dharma he expounds is neither being nor non-being; through causes and conditions all dharmas arise; there is no self, no doer, and no receiver — and yet wholesome and unwholesome karma is never lost." This proves the sudden teaching.

The Larger Sūtra says: "Sequential practice, sequential study, sequential path." This proves the gradual. It also says: "Wrap a maṇi-jewel in cloths of every color and place it in water — it takes on the color of whatever surrounds it." This proves the indeterminate. It also says: "From the very first arising of the resolve, one already sits at the seat of enlightenment, turning the Dharma-wheel and bringing sentient beings across." This proves the sudden. The Lotus Sūtra says: "Such a person should, by means of this Dharma, gradually enter the Buddha's wisdom." This proves the gradual. It also says: "If they do not yet believe this Dharma, then within some other profound dharma, they are shown, taught, benefited, and delighted." This proves the indeterminate. It also says: "Directly, setting every expedient means aside, only the unsurpassed path is taught." This proves the sudden.

The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "From the cow comes milk ... and so on, up to ghee." This proves the gradual. It also says: "Place poison in milk, and the milk alone can kill a person; place poison even in ghee, and the ghee kills a person exactly the same." This proves the indeterminate. It also says: "On the Snow Mountains there grows a grass called forbearance; should a cow eat it, ghee is obtained directly." This proves the sudden. The Sūtra of Immeasurable Meanings says: "When the Buddha turns the Dharma-wheel, fine droplets fall first, settling the dust of desire, opening the gate to nirvāṇa, fanning the wind of liberation, removing the world's own feverish affliction, and bringing the Dharma's coolness. Next he sends down the rain of the twelve links of dependent origination, sprinkling the ground of ignorance and dimming the light of wrong views. Last he pours down the unsurpassed Mahāyāna, causing every being everywhere to give rise to the bodhi-mind." This proves the gradual.

The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "The dragon-king Sāgara pours down rain thick as cart-axles over the ocean alone — no other ground could bear it." This is spoken for those of the highest capacity, expounding the perfect and complete sūtra directly; before it, the two lesser vehicles are as if deaf, as if mute. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "One who enters a grove of campaka trees smells no other fragrance; one who enters this room smells only the fragrance of the buddhas' own merit." The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "Pound ten thousand kinds of incense into a single pellet — burn even a speck of it, and every one of those scents is present at once." The Larger Sūtra says: "To know all dharmas by means of the wisdom that knows all things in every one of their modes, one should study the perfection of wisdom." The Lotus Sūtra says: "With palms joined and a reverent mind, they wish to hear the complete and perfect path." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "It is like a person bathing in the great ocean — know that such a person has already made use of the water of every river." The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "It is like the sun rising: it shines first on the high mountains, next on the shadowed valleys, and next on the level ground." The level ground is the indeterminate; the shadowed valleys are the gradual; the high mountains are the sudden.

Everything cited above is the Buddha's own true golden word, the Dharma honored by every buddha of the three times. Past beyond past, distant beyond distant, stretching back with no discernible beginning at all; present beyond present, boundless and without limit; future beyond future, unfolding on without end. If what has already been, what now is, and what is yet to come are all alike beyond conception, then know that calming-and-contemplation is the very teacher of every buddha. Because the Dharma itself is eternal, the buddhas too are eternal — and bliss, self, and purity are exactly the same. With proof cited like this, how could one still fail to believe?

Having come to believe this teaching, one should further know its three written versions. The text for the gradual is the Sequential Dharma-Gates of Dhyāna, thirty fascicles in all, surviving today in ten scrolls — the private record made by Fashen of Great Adornment Monastery. The text for the indeterminate is the Six Wondrous Gates, which, with an indeterminate intent, passes through the twelve dhyānas, the nine contemplations, the eight liberations, observing-refining-perfuming-and-mastering, causation, and the six pāramitās, turning without obstruction and moving freely in every direction — this is the text the Chen dynasty's Left Assistant Director Mao Xi requested the Master to bring forth. The text for the perfect-and-sudden is the very ten fascicles recorded by Guanding at Yuquan Monastery in Jingzhou — this text itself. Though there are these three written versions, none should cling to the words themselves and so do injury to themselves, as by a wart or a growth. The Treatise says: "Whether one sees prajñā or does not see it, one is equally bound, equally freed, by that very seeing or not-seeing." The written word is exactly the same.

One who doubts this may say: "'All dharmas bear the mark of quiescent extinction, and cannot be conveyed in words.' The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'Arising-of-arising cannot be spoken of, down to not-arising-of-not-arising, which also cannot be spoken of.' Whether taken generally or in each particular, the path of language is cut off — there is no one able to speak, and nothing spoken of. Śāriputra himself said: 'I have heard that within liberation there is no speech at all — hence, as to this, I do not know what to say.' The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: 'What is spoken has no speaking and no showing; what is heard has no hearing and no attaining.' If this person cannot speak, and this Dharma cannot be spoken, how can it still be said to instruct anyone at all?" Yet this cites only one side, and fails to see the other. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Because there are causes and conditions, it can indeed be spoken." The Lotus Sūtra says: "Through countless expedient means and manifold causes and conditions, it is taught for the sake of sentient beings" — and also: "By the power of skillful means, it was taught for the five bhikṣus." Whether generally or in particular, it can indeed be spoken.

The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "One with eyes describes milk for the blind." This points to how the ultimate truth can indeed be spoken. The Prajñāpāramitā Spoken for the Heavenly King says: "The dhāraṇī itself has no written words, yet written words reveal the dhāraṇī." This points to how the conventional truth can indeed be spoken. And indeed, the Tathāgata always teaches the Dharma by way of the two truths together. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "The nature of written words is itself free — this is precisely liberation." Speaking, here, is itself no speaking at all. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "If one knows that the Tathāgata never actually speaks the Dharma, this itself is true learning." This points to how not-speaking is itself speaking. The Sūtra of Assured Resolve says: "The Buddha and his disciples constantly carry out two things: speaking, and keeping silent." The Lotus Sūtra says: "Going, coming, sitting, standing, he constantly proclaims the wondrous Dharma, like a great rain endlessly falling." It also says: "If one wishes to seek the buddha-path, always follow those of great learning; a good spiritual friend is a great causal condition — meaning, one who guides and transforms us so that we come to see the Buddha." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Clouds thunder in the empty sky, and flowers bloom on an elephant's ivory tusk." When, then, is there ever a single, fixed absence of speech at all?

If one merely competes over speaking versus silence, failing to grasp the teaching's actual intent, one only strays further from the principle. Apart from speaking there is no principle; apart from the principle there is no speaking. Speaking is itself no-speaking; no-speaking is itself speaking — there is no two of them, no separateness at all; the very phenomenon of speech is itself already truth. Out of great compassion, pitying all who have never heard it, the Buddha teaches the way one might raise a fan to represent a moon hidden behind layered mountains, or shake a tree to instruct someone about a wind stilled in the vast, empty sky. People today are dull of mind, and direct, wordless contemplation is difficult for them; the eye takes things in by way of form and color, and so the written word offers an easier way in. But if one takes the written word itself as an obstacle, one must know that the written word is not merely the written word — one must penetrate through to how every piece of writing is neither the written word nor not the written word, so that through a single piece of writing, one may gain understanding of everything at once. For this very reason, the three written versions of this teaching are offered as three ways into one and the same gate. This concludes the brief account of this teaching's origin.

The treatise is now opened into ten sections: first, the great intent; second, explaining the name; third, the essence and its marks; fourth, the scope of the teachings it gathers in; fifth, its relation to partial and complete teachings; sixth, the preliminary expedients; seventh, the actual practice; eighth, its fruits and rewards; ninth, the teachings that arise from it; tenth, where it ultimately leads. Ten is a squared, settled number — neither too many nor too few. Marking out its own destination from the very start, and returning at the end to the utmost of its own source, a good beginning and a fitting end are both held together within these ten sections. As for their generative order: this concerns specifically how the ten sections are sequenced. At the level of ultimate principle, all is quiescent extinction — there is no arising and no one who arises, no generating and no one who generates. Yet because there are causes and conditions, the ten sections as a whole do have a generative order: taken individually, the earlier section is the "generating," and the section that follows is its "arising." Their underlying cause and their sequence of aim are exactly the same.

That is to say: covered over for measureless kalpas by delusion and confusion, one does not know that ignorance is itself already illumination — and this is now opened up and awakened to. Hence it is called "the great intent." Once one knows that ignorance is itself illumination, the mind no longer flows and drifts — hence this is named "calming." Luminous and utterly pure, this is called "contemplation." Having heard the name, one grasps the essence; the essence gathers in every teaching, gathered into the partial and the complete; through understanding the partial and the complete, the preliminary expedients arise. Once the preliminary expedients are established, the actual practice is accomplished. Once the actual practice is accomplished, its wondrous fruits and rewards are obtained. From what is attained for oneself, teachings arise to teach others; self and other are both put at ease, alike returning to what is ever-quiescent. All of this generative order exists only because one has not yet penetrated to no-arising and no-generating at all. Once no-arising and no-generating are fully understood, the mind's own activity is itself quiescent extinction, the path of language cut off, still and utterly pure.

As for classifying them: the merit within these ten sections is like a treasure hidden inside a sack — unless it is drawn out and shown, no one will ever see it. Of these ten sections: how many belong to the ultimate truth, how many to the conventional, how many to neither? How many are the sage's speech, how many the sage's silence, how many neither? How many are concentration, how many wisdom, how many neither? How many are the eye, how many the foot, how many neither? How many are cause, how many fruit, how many neither? How many concern oneself, how many others, how many neither? How many are shared, how many unshared, how many neither? How many are general, how many particular, how many neither? How many are extensive, how many concise, how many neither? How many run vertically, how many horizontally, how many neither? Questions of every such kind may freely be raised.

The first eight sections are conventional even as they are already ultimate; the section on fruits and rewards is ultimate even as it is already conventional; the section on where it all leads is neither ultimate nor conventional. The actual practice is the sage's silence; the remaining eight sections are the sage's speech; where it all leads is neither speech nor silence. The actual practice is, in part, concentration; the remaining eight sections, together with part of the actual practice, are wisdom; where it all leads is neither concentration nor wisdom. From the great intent through the actual practice is cause; fruits and rewards is fruit; where it all leads is neither cause nor fruit. The first eight sections are practice for oneself; the teachings that arise transform others; where it all leads is neither for oneself nor for others. From the great intent through the teachings that arise is the eye [of understanding]; from the preliminary expedients through fruits and rewards is the foot [of practice]; where it all leads is neither eye nor foot. From the great intent through the actual practice is shared with the other vehicles; fruits and rewards and the teachings that arise are unshared; where it all leads is neither shared nor unshared. The great intent alone is general; the other eight sections are particular; where it all leads is neither general nor particular. The great intent is concise; the other eight sections are extensive; where it all leads is neither extensive nor concise. The essence and its marks run vertically [i.e., toward depth]; the remaining eight run horizontally [i.e., toward breadth]; where it all leads is neither horizontal nor vertical.

As for the clarifying questions: Question: How do the brief pointer given just above and the great intent, the treatise's own first section, differ, and how are they the same? Answer: In general, their names differ but their sense is the same; in particular, the brief pointer concerns the three gates of gradual, indeterminate, and sudden, while the great intent rests wholly in the one, sudden approach. Question: If the manifest teaching is used to discuss manifest contemplation, should not the esoteric teaching likewise be used to discuss esoteric contemplation? Answer: Since manifest and esoteric are indeed distinguished, this treatise clarifies only the manifest, and does not discuss the esoteric. Question: Dividing the gates this way is well enough — but on its own terms, can the esoteric be spoken of at all, or not? Answer: In some cases it can, in some it cannot. The teaching is the sage's own word, extended from above to those below; the sage alone is capable of expounding both the manifest and the esoteric together, while an ordinary person, in expounding it, can transmit only the manifest and cannot transmit the esoteric. By what means, then, does the listener come to practice contemplation at all? Where it can be done: one who has reached the stage of the six purified faculties can, through a single wondrous sound, fill the whole trichiliocosm at once, reaching wherever intended — such a one can indeed transmit the esoteric teaching. As for one who cultivates contemplation: manifest dharmas already cultivated are brought forth; those not yet cultivated are not; but a person who brings forth what was habituated in past lives can, through this treatise, attain the esoteric contemplation as well.

Question: Shallow at first and deep at the end is the mark of the gradual contemplation — what, then, is the mark of a contemplation deep at first and shallow at the end? Answer: This is the mark of the indeterminate contemplation. Question: What is the mark of a contemplation shallow both at the start and at the end? Answer: This is the intent of the Hīnayāna, not the mark of any of the three kinds of calming-and-contemplation at all. Question: But the Hīnayāna, too, is the Buddha's own word — on what grounds is it excluded? And if it is excluded here, should it not also be excluded from ever being called "gradual"? Answer: Since Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna are indeed distinguished, the Hīnayāna is simply not what this treatise is discussing. What is called "gradual" here means only the gradual progress from the subtle to the manifest within the Mahāyāna itself. In the Hīnayāna, neither the beginning nor the end ever knows the true mark of reality — hence it is not the "gradual" spoken of here. Question: As for the three written versions just shown — writing is a form, and is form a gate, or not a gate? If it is a gate, then form is already the true mark of reality itself, and what further is left for it to lead through to? If it is not a gate, how can it then be said that "a single color, a single scent, are none other than the middle way"? Answer: Both writing and gate are alike the true mark of reality. Sentient beings are mostly inverted in their view, and only rarely not inverted; writing is shown to them so that, by means of the writing itself, they may penetrate through to the writing, to what is not writing, and to what is neither writing nor not-writing. Writing is itself the gate, because it is through the gate that the true mark of reality is attained. Writing is the gate; the gate is complete with every dharma — it is the gate, it is not the gate, and it is neither the gate nor not the gate.

As for the exposition: this expounds the ten sections themselves. The first, expounding the great intent, gathers in the whole treatise from start to finish, crowning both its beginning and its end at once — its sense is so expansive that it is hard to take in all at once. Here, then, it is drawn together into five points: giving rise to the great mind, cultivating great practice, evoking a great fruit, tearing apart the great net, and returning to the great abode. What is "giving rise to the great mind"? Sentient beings are confused and inverted, unaware of their own condition; here they are urged to awaken, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below. What is "cultivating great practice"? Though the mind has already been given rise to, one who merely looks toward the road without moving will never in the end arrive; hence one is urged to firm, vigorous diligence, practicing the four kinds of samādhi. What is "evoking a great fruit"? Though one does not seek rebirth in the Brahmā heavens for its own sake, the Brahmā heavens respond of themselves — this wondrous reward is proclaimed here to console and gladden the practitioner's own heart.

What is "tearing apart the great net"? The manifold sūtras and treatises open people's eyes, and yet they cling to this one and doubt that one, affirming a single position while rejecting every other — like one who, on merely hearing of snow, insists it must be cold, or, on merely hearing of a crane, insists it must be moving. Here the sūtras and treatises are brought into harmony with one another, every knot untangled, freeing the mind from its own cage. What is "returning to the great abode"? The Dharma has no beginning and no end; the Dharma has no passage and no obstruction. If one knows the dharma-realm, the dharma-realm itself has no beginning or end, no passage or obstruction — one opens out into vast clarity, unobstructed and free. These five brief points generate what will be shown at greater length across the ten sections that follow, and so on. As for giving rise to the mind specifically: this is further divided into three — first, terminology; second, rejecting what is wrong; third, revealing what is right.

"Bodhi" is a Sanskrit sound; in this land it is called "the Way." "Citta" is a Sanskrit sound; in this land it is called "mind," meaning specifically the mind that deliberates and knows. In Sanskrit it is also called hṛd, which in this land names the mind in the sense of plants and trees; it is also called hṛdaya, which in this land names mind as that which gathers together what is essential. Here, in ruling out what is not meant, the mind of mere aggregation and the mind of plants and trees are both set aside, and only the deliberating, knowing mind is intended. "The Way," too, has both a general sense and a particular sense; this too must here be narrowed down, briefly, into ten kinds.

1. If the mind, thought after thought, is wholly given over to greed, anger, and delusion — gathered in but never turning back, pulled at but never coming loose, growing worse day by day and month by month — giving rise to the highest grade of the ten evils, like the figures the text names Wǔ Shàntíluó (五扇提羅, an obscure transliterated name whose precise referent is uncertain) — this gives rise to a mind bound for the hells, walking the path of fire.
2. If the mind, thought after thought, longs for many followers, like the ocean swallowing every stream, like fire consuming kindling — giving rise to the middle grade of the ten evils, like Devadatta luring away the assembly — this gives rise to a mind bound for the animal realm, walking the path of blood.
3. If the mind, thought after thought, longs to gain fame, to be praised and celebrated in every direction, far and near, while inwardly possessing no real virtue and falsely comparing itself to the sages and worthies — giving rise to the lowest grade of the ten evils, like Māgandika — this gives rise to a mind bound for the realm of ghosts, walking the path of the sword.

4. If the mind, thought after thought, constantly wishes to surpass others, unable to bear being beneath anyone, belittling others while prizing itself — like a kite flying high and looking down — while outwardly displaying benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and good faith, giving rise to the lowest grade of wholesome mind, this walks the path of the asuras.
5. If the mind, thought after thought, delights in worldly pleasures, content with this foul-smelling body, gratified by its own deluded state — this gives rise to the middle grade of wholesome mind, walking the human path.
6. If the mind, thought after thought, knows that the three evil destinies hold much suffering, that the human realm mixes suffering and pleasure together, and that the heavens above hold pleasure alone — and, for the sake of that heavenly pleasure, shuts the six faculties so nothing goes out and the six sense-objects so nothing comes in — this is the highest grade of wholesome mind, walking the heavenly path.

7. If the mind, thought after thought, longs for great authority and power, so that the moment body, speech, or mind acts at all, everyone and everything submits and follows — this gives rise to the mind of a ruler of the desire realm, walking the path of Māra.
8. If the mind, thought after thought, longs to gain sharp wisdom and eloquent cleverness, lofty talent and bold understanding, seeing clearly through the six directions, admired and looked up to on every side — this gives rise to a mind of worldly cleverness, walking the path of the non-Buddhist ascetics.
9. If the mind, thought after thought, finds the outward pleasure of the five sense-objects and six desires grown faint, while the pleasure of the third dhyāna, like a spring welling up from within rock, weighs ever heavier from within — this gives rise to the mind of Brahmā, walking the path of the form and formless realms.
10. If the mind, thought after thought, knows that wholesome and unwholesome karma turn in an endless wheel, that the ordinary person is sunk in indulgence and the sages and worthies condemn this, and knows too that breaking through unwholesomeness depends on pure wisdom, pure wisdom on pure dhyāna, and pure dhyāna on pure precepts, and so prizes these three dharmas as one starving prizes food or one parched prizes water — this gives rise to an uncontaminated mind, walking the path of the two lesser vehicles.

As for both mind and Way, the ways either can go wrong are very many; only ten are given here, in brief. Sometimes what is opened out above is folded together with what lies below, sometimes what is opened out below is folded together with what lies above, simply so that the number ten comes out square and complete. A single kind is raised as the leading example in each case, the strongest tendency named first. As the Treatise says: "A mind that breaks the precepts falls into the hells; a mind of stinginess and greed falls among the hungry ghosts; a mind without shame or conscience falls among the animals" — this is exactly that same sense. Sometimes the wrong mind arises first, sometimes the right mind arises first, and sometimes right and wrong arise together — as when an elephant, a fish, and the wind all alike muddy the water of a pool. The elephant stands for what comes from without, the fish for what comes from within, and the wind for the two arising together. Again: the elephant stands for every wrong that arises from outside oneself; the fish stands for inner contemplation grown weak and frail, moved by the two extremes; the wind stands for inner and outer mixing together, muddying and clouding everything as one.

Again: the first nine are birth-and-death, like a silkworm binding itself in its own cocoon; the last is nirvāṇa, like a musk deer bounding off alone — though it wins its own release, it is not yet complete in the Buddhadharma; both, then, are wrong, and both alike are ruled out. The first nine are worldly, neither moving nor going beyond; the last does go beyond, yet lacks great compassion; both again are wrong, and both alike are ruled out. The same holds for every such pair of dharma-gates — conditioned and unconditioned, contaminated and uncontaminated, wholesome and unwholesome, defiled and pure, bound and freed, ultimate and conventional. Again: the nine correspond to the truth of suffering as understood in the mundane sense; the last does not correspond to it in that sense — yet even so it remains crooked, clumsy, and close to mere ash, so both are wrong, and it too is ruled out. Next, the conditioned and the contaminated correspond to the truth of accumulation; the last does not correspond to it in that sense — yet even so it remains close to crooked, clumsy ash as well, and it too is ruled out. Next, the wholesome and unwholesome, the defiled and the pure, correspond to the truth of the path; the last does indeed correspond to the truth of the path — yet even so it is ruled out exactly as before. Next, the bound and the freed, the ultimate and the conventional, correspond to the truth of cessation; the last, though it does correspond to the truth of cessation, is likewise ruled out exactly as before.

If one grasps this sense, then across every sense-faculty and sense-object, the three karmic actions, and the four bodily postures, wherever a thought arises or the mind stirs, this same contemplation should be applied throughout, so that no muddied mind is ever allowed to arise. Should it arise regardless, let it be extinguished at once — just as a person with clear eyes can avoid a perilous road, and a person of true intelligence in this world can keep far from every evil. A beginning practitioner who grasps this sense is already fit to become a refuge for the world.

Question: Does the practitioner give rise to the resolve by their own power, or is it given rise to through another's teaching? Answer: Self, other, both together, and neither — none of these four alone will do; giving rise to the resolve can only be spoken of in terms of the mutual resonance between response and appeal. It is like a child falling into fire or water, and the parents, in their alarm, rushing to the rescue. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "When the child falls ill, the parents fall ill as well." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Toward a sick child, a parent's own heart leans especially heavy." Stirring the very mountain of the Dharma-nature, entering the very ocean of birth-and-death — hence there is the conduct of the sick, and the conduct of the infant. This is what is called giving rise to the resolve through mutual resonance. The Dhyāna Sūtra says: "The Buddha teaches the Dharma by four kinds of accordance: according with what is enjoyed, according with what is fitting, according with what treats the ailment, and according with ultimate meaning." Guarding the listener's own intent, he teaches in a way that gladdens their heart; matching what they were habituated to in past lives, he makes it easy for them to accept and practice; observing the gravity of their affliction, he prescribes medicine in the right measure; and when the occasion for the Way has ripened, on merely hearing it, they awaken to the path at once. Is this not exactly benefit through resonance according with capacity?

The Treatise on the Great Perfection of Wisdom speaks of "four siddhāntas": where worldly dharmas stand apart from one another, this is named "the worldly [siddhānta]"; according with what each person is capable of, this is named "[the siddhānta] for the individual." These two siddhāntas correspond to the four accordances above, and are likewise the sense of mutual resonance. The Treatise further gives "five further reasons" for teaching the Perfection of Wisdom: first, to clarify the bodhisattva's manifold practices; second, to increase the bodhisattva's own buddha-recollection samādhi; third, to explain the marks of non-retrogression; fourth, to pull disciples free of evil and deviant views; fifth, to explain ultimate meaning. These five further reasons are, every one, no different from the four accordances and the four siddhāntas, and are likewise the same as a further scheme of five causal conditions.

If the Buddha did not accord with capacity, and taught in a way that only vexed the listener, there would be no benefit to them at all. It is instead like great compassion's own thunder and rain, able to move from the subtle to the manifest. The Treatise says: "The true Dharma, one able to teach it, and an assembly able to hear it — such things are hard to come by." On this view, birth-and-death is neither bounded nor unbounded, and the true mark of reality is neither difficult nor easy, neither being nor non-being — this is called "the true Dharma"; and being able to teach and to hear in just this way is called "true teaching and true hearing." Having the benefit of the three siddhāntas — worldly, individual, and antidote — is called "bounded"; having the benefit of the siddhānta of ultimate meaning is called "neither bounded nor unbounded." Hence it is known that dependent origination alone can accomplish this great matter — and this, again, is the very sense of mutual resonance. Now the four accordances, the four siddhāntas, and the five conditions differ only in name; in sense and meaning they are the same. To state it here: the four accordances are great compassion responding with benefit; the siddhāntas are compassion bestowed universally — these differ only as left differs from right.

As for "cause and condition": sometimes the sage is the cause and the ordinary being the condition; sometimes the ordinary being is the cause and the sage the condition — either way, response and appeal meet on the same path. One should know that these three schemes, in the flavor of their own wording, correspond, and so agree in sense. Speaking in terms of "what is enjoyed" emphasizes what cultivating the cause values; speaking in terms of "the worldly" emphasizes how the karmic result received stands apart — these differ only as cause differs from fruit. "What is fitting" means selecting the Dharma to match the person; "[the siddhānta] for the individual" means observing the person to fit the Dharma to them — these differ only in which direction the meeting runs. Again, as to the five causal conditions: when sentient beings have faith and delight as their cause, the Buddha teaches one dharma that is every dharma — the great bodhi-mind; in the sūtras this is "what is enjoyed," in the treatises this is "the worldly." When sentient beings have great diligence and courage, the Buddha teaches one practice that is every practice — the four samādhis; in the sūtras this is "what is fitting," in the treatises this is "for the individual." When sentient beings have equanimous great wisdom as their cause, the Buddha, moved by this, teaches one refutation that is every refutation, obtaining thereby the excellent fruit and mastery of sūtra and treatise alike; in both this is "the antidote." When sentient beings have the buddha's own eye of wisdom as their cause, the Buddha, moved by this, teaches one ultimate that is every ultimate, able to speak of where it all leads, quiescent extinction itself; in both this is "ultimate meaning."

Again, as to the five conditions and the five further reasons: the bodhi-mind is the root of every practice, while the Treatise names manifold practices — these differ only as branch differs from root. The four samādhis are cultivated in general, while buddha-recollection is cultivated in particular — these differ only as general differs from particular. The excellent reward is explained in full, covering direct and environmental retribution, the habituation-fruit and the retribution-fruit, while non-retrogression singles out only the mark of the habituation-fruit entering its stage — these differ only as the paired differs from the single. Removing doubt and obstruction from sūtra and treatise addresses where doubt and clinging arise; pulling disciples free of evil and deviance addresses where transgression arises in a person — these differ only in where the problem is located. "Root and branch alike ultimate" and "ultimate meaning" plainly share the same sense under different names — this, then, is where the meaning is the same throughout. Again, the sage's own teaching takes many forms — sometimes in sequence, sometimes not; sometimes complete, sometimes not; sometimes mixed together, sometimes not — and sentient beings receive its benefit just as variously. Sometimes the four siddhāntas together make up the five conditions, and the five conditions the four siddhāntas; sometimes the four siddhāntas make up a single causal condition, and a single causal condition a single siddhānta; sometimes each causal condition is itself complete with all four siddhāntas, and each siddhānta complete with all five conditions. All such things bring each other out and reveal each other in turn, and can, once again, be resolved through the three kinds of calming-and-contemplation — this much may be understood by reflection alone.

Again, resolving it through a single calming-and-contemplation: giving rise to the bodhi-mind is itself contemplation; the stilling of the deviant mind is itself calming. Again, the five brief points are simply the ten sections stated at greater length: the first five sections are simply this one sense of giving rise to the bodhi-mind; the preliminary expedients and the actual practice are simply the four samādhis; the section on fruits and rewards simply clarifies what goes against and what accords — going against yields the fruit of the two extremes, according yields the excellent, wondrous fruit; the section on the teachings that arise turns what was attained in one's own mind to benefit others, whether by manifesting a buddha's own body and bestowing the provisional and the real together, or by manifesting a form within the other nine dharma-realms, setting forth and propagating the gradual and the sudden alike; the section on where it all leads is simply the shared return to the great abode, the hidden treasury itself. Hence it is known that the brief and the extended agree in sense throughout.

Revealing what is right is further divided into three: first, by way of the Four Noble Truths; next, by way of the four universal vows; last, by way of the six identities. The names and marks of the Four Noble Truths come from the Nirvāṇa Sūtra's chapter on noble conduct: they are called the truths of generation-and-extinction, of no generation, of the immeasurable, and of the unconditioned. As for generation-and-extinction: suffering and its accumulation are the mundane cause and effect; the path and cessation are the world-transcending cause and effect. Suffering is the shifting of its three marks; accumulation is the flowing and drifting of the four states of mind; the path is treated by an antidote that displaces it; cessation is the extinguishing of what exists, returning it to non-being. Whether mundane or world-transcending, all of this is change and alteration — hence this is called "the Four Noble Truths of generation-and-extinction."

As for no generation: suffering has no real oppression to it, since everything is already empty — how could emptiness ever need to be dispelled by emptiness? Form is itself already empty, and sensation, perception, formations, and consciousness are exactly the same — hence there is no mark of oppression at all. As for accumulation having no mark of combination: cause and effect are both alike empty — how could an empty cause combine with an empty effect? The same holds throughout every instance of greed, anger, and delusion. The path has no mark of duality — there is no treating subject and no treated object, for if there is not even a single one, how could there be two? The Dharma was never, in the first place, kindled, and so now there is nothing to extinguish; neither kindled nor extinguished — hence this is called "the Four Noble Truths of no generation."

As for the immeasurable: distinguishing and reckoning them out, suffering has immeasurable marks. Even within a single dharma-realm, suffering already comes in many varieties — how much more across all ten dharma-realms? Such manifold varieties lie beyond what the wisdom and vision of the two lesser vehicles can know or see; only a bodhisattva can clearly understand them. Consider the manifold varieties of the hells alone — flaying, cutting, burning, boiling, chopping — already too numerous to reckon; how much more, then, the manifold forms, and manifold sensations, perceptions, formations, and consciousnesses, of every other realm — could these ever be exhausted, any more than the sands of the desert or the drops of the sea? Hence they lie beyond the knowledge and vision of the two lesser vehicles; only the bodhisattva's own wisdom-eye can penetrate them. Again, accumulation has immeasurable marks: craving, anger, and delusion, manifold states of mind, manifold acts of body and speech, accumulate karma in manifold ways. As a bent body casts a crooked shadow, and a discordant sound produces a muddled echo, the bodhisattva illuminates all of it without ever going astray. Again, the path has immeasurable marks: analytical and embodying approaches, clumsy and skillful means, expedients crooked and straight, long and short, provisional and real — the bodhisattva discerns all of these with precision, never confusing one for another. Again, cessation has immeasurable marks: this expedient can extinguish what is severed by seeing the truths, that expedient can extinguish what is severed by sustained cultivation, each with its own manifold principal and auxiliary methods — the bodhisattva surveys all of it through and through, without the slightest discrepancy.

Again, once these manifold principal and auxiliary expedients are themselves seen as empty, their manifoldness itself is no longer manifold; yet even though it is no longer manifold, it is still distinguished as manifold, without confusion and without disorder. Again, this expedient can sever the four abodes of affliction analytically; that expedient can sever the four abodes of affliction by directly embodying their emptiness; this expedient can sever the dust-and-sand-like afflictions; that expedient can sever ignorance itself. Though manifold and various, each remains distinct from the rest, without mixing. Again, distinguished through the three siddhāntas, they are manifold; through the siddhānta of ultimate meaning, they are not manifold at all. Yet even though not manifold, speaking from the greater number, they are still called manifold — hence this is named "the Four Noble Truths of the immeasurable." As for the Four Noble Truths of the unconditioned: every one of them is simply the true mark of reality itself, inconceivable — and it is not only the ultimate-meaning truth that is no longer manifold, but the three other siddhāntas, and indeed every dharma whatsoever, that are no longer manifold either. This sense may be understood of itself, and need not be recorded in further detail.

If the Four Noble Truths are matched vertically against the Buddha-lands, the count rises and falls: in the Land of Common Dwelling there are all four; in the Land of Expedient Means, three; in the Land of True Reward, two; in the Land of Eternally Tranquil Light, only one. If matched horizontally, one for one: the Land of Common Dwelling corresponds to generation-and-extinction; the Land of Expedient Means, to no generation; the Land of True Reward, to the immeasurable; the Land of Eternally Tranquil Light, to the unconditioned — and so on. Again, spoken of as a whole, this is called the Four Noble Truths; spoken of in its particulars, it is called the twelve links of dependent origination. Suffering corresponds to the seven links of consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense-bases, contact, sensation, birth, and old-age-and-death; accumulation corresponds to the five links of ignorance, formations, craving, grasping, and becoming; the path corresponds to the antidote, to causation, and to expedient means; cessation corresponds to the extinguishing of ignorance, down to the extinguishing of old-age-and-death. Hence the Nirvāṇa Sūtra opens the Four Noble Truths into four kinds, and likewise opens the twelve links of dependent origination into four kinds. Contemplating with lesser wisdom, one attains the bodhi of the śrāvaka; contemplating with middling wisdom, one attains the bodhi of the pratyekabuddha; contemplating with higher wisdom, one attains the bodhi of the bodhisattva; contemplating with the highest wisdom of all, one attains the bodhi of the buddha.

Again, in the Middle Treatise's own verse: "whatever arises through causes and conditions" corresponds to generation-and-extinction; "this I declare to be empty" corresponds to no generation; "it is also called a provisional name" corresponds to the immeasurable; "it is also the meaning of the middle way" corresponds to the unconditioned. Another reading: "causes and conditions" corresponds to accumulation, "what arises" corresponds to suffering, "the expedient means that extinguish suffering" is the path, and "accumulation exhausted" is cessation. The verse also speaks in terms of dependent origination: "causes and conditions" means ignorance itself; "what arises" means formations, name-and-form, the six sense-bases, and the rest. Hence the text says: "For disciples of sharp faculties, the twelve links of dependent origination are taught in their mark of neither arising nor ceasing" — referring to the preceding twenty-five chapters of the Middle Treatise; "for disciples of dull faculties, the twelve links of dependent origination are taught in their mark of arising and ceasing" — referring to the two chapters that follow. One should know, then, that the Treatise's verse, taken as a whole, gives the four kinds of Four Noble Truths; taken in its particulars, it gives the four kinds of the twelve links of dependent origination. This concludes the exposition of the four kinds of Four Noble Truths.

The various sūtras explain many different ways of giving rise to the bodhi-mind: some speak of doing so by reasoning through various principles; some by beholding the Buddha's various marks; some by beholding various miraculous transformations; some by hearing various teachings; some by journeying through various lands; some by beholding various assemblies; some by seeing various practices being cultivated; some by seeing various dharmas come to an end; some by seeing various transgressions; and some by seeing others undergo various sufferings. Ten such ways are named here as the leading examples, to be explained at length, and so on. As for giving rise to the mind through reasoning: the Dharma-nature is what it is of itself, spontaneously so — accumulation cannot stain it, suffering cannot afflict it, the path cannot make it pass through anything, cessation cannot purify it any further. It is like the moon veiled by clouds: the clouds cannot actually harm the moon itself; only once affliction is set aside is the Dharma-nature seen. A sūtra says: "Cessation itself is not the ultimate truth; it is by means of cessation that the ultimate truth is met." If even cessation is not, in itself, the ultimate, how much less the other three? There is no bodhi within affliction, and no affliction within bodhi. This is called "giving rise to the bodhi-mind, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, by reasoning through the Four Noble Truths of generation-and-extinction."

As for giving rise to the mind by reasoning through the Four Noble Truths of no generation: the Dharma-nature is no different from suffering and accumulation; it is only through being deluded about suffering and accumulation that the Dharma-nature is lost. It is like ice congealing into water — there is no separate water apart from it. To penetrate suffering and accumulation and find no suffering and accumulation there is precisely to meet the Dharma-nature. If this holds even for suffering and accumulation, how much more for the path and cessation? A sūtra says: "Affliction is itself bodhi; bodhi is itself affliction." This is called "giving rise to the bodhi-mind, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, by reasoning through the Four Noble Truths of no generation." As for reasoning through the immeasurable: the Dharma-nature is what is called the true mark of reality — it lies beyond even the domain of the two lesser vehicles, let alone that of the ordinary person. Standing beyond the mark of both extremes, there is a distinct pure Dharma, as in the ten similes of the Buddha-Treasury Sūtra, and so on. This is called "giving rise to the bodhi-mind, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, by reasoning through the Four Noble Truths of the immeasurable."

As for reasoning through the unconditioned: the Dharma-nature and every dharma whatsoever are neither two nor separate. If this holds even for the dharmas of the ordinary person, how much more for those of the two lesser vehicles? To leave the dharmas of the ordinary person behind and seek the true mark of reality elsewhere is like fleeing this emptiness only to go seeking emptiness somewhere else. The very dharmas of the ordinary person are themselves already the real Dharma; there is no need to abandon the ordinary in order to turn toward the sagely. A sūtra says: "Birth-and-death is itself nirvāṇa; a single color, a single scent, are none other than the middle way." This is called "giving rise to the bodhi-mind, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, by reasoning through the Four Noble Truths of the unconditioned." If, in reasoning through even a single dharma, one thereby penetrates the whole dharma-realm, reaching every extreme to its very bottom, exhaustive in both breadth and depth, complete in both phenomenal conduct and principle, with seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below both already contained within it — only then does this deserve to be called giving rise to the bodhi-mind. Bodhi is named "the Way," because the Way can carry one through to the far shore in both breadth and depth alike — hence it is named "the perfection of giving rise to the mind." This is why, in reasoning through principle, the treatment has been made shallow to deep in careful order, phenomenal conduct and principle both covered throughout. From here on, every dharma follows this same pattern.

The Great Calming and Contemplation, Fascicle One, Lower Part
Spoken by the Great Master Zhiyi of Tiantai, of the Sui dynasty
Recorded by his disciple Guanding

As for "contemplating the Buddha's auspicious marks and giving rise to the mind": if one sees the Tathāgata's body born of father and mother, its bodily marks radiantly manifest, clearly grasped wherever seen, brilliant and dazzling — a form even Viśvakarman himself could never fashion, surpassing even a wheel-turning king's own array of marks, rare in all the world, with none in heaven or on earth equal to the Buddha, and nothing in the ten directions to compare with him — and thereupon vows: "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king, and bring sentient beings across, numberless, without limit" — this is called "seeing the response-body buddha's auspicious marks, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, and giving rise to the bodhi-mind." If, on seeing the Tathāgata, one knows that there is no Tathāgata there to see; if, on seeing his auspicious marks, one knows that those marks are not truly marks — the Tathāgata and his marks are both like empty space, and within emptiness there is no buddha, much less any auspicious mark. To see the Tathāgata as not the Tathāgata is precisely to see the Tathāgata; to see the marks as not marks is precisely to see every mark. "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king, and bring sentient beings across, numberless, without limit." This is called seeing the superior response-body's auspicious marks, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, and giving rise to the bodhi-mind.

If one sees that the Tathāgata's bodily marks manifest absolutely everything without exception, like a bright, clear mirror reflecting every form and image — each and every mark such that neither ordinary being nor sage can find its boundary, Brahmā himself cannot see its crown, and even Maudgalyāyana cannot exhaust the range of its voice. The Treatise says: "The formless is the foremost body — adorned, yet without adornment." "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king." This is called seeing the reward-body buddha's auspicious marks, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, and giving rise to the bodhi-mind. If one sees the Tathāgata and knows the Tathāgata's own wisdom — deeply penetrating the marks of offense and merit alike, illuminating the ten directions everywhere at once; the subtle and wondrous pure Dharma-body, complete with the thirty-two marks, each and every one of them itself the true mark of reality, the true mark of reality itself the dharma-realm, complete and lacking nothing — "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king." This is called seeing the Dharma-body buddha's auspicious marks, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below, and giving rise to the bodhi-mind, and so on.

What is meant by "seeing the Buddha's various miraculous transformations and giving rise to the bodhi-mind"? If one sees the Tathāgata, resting in the fundamental dhyānas, with a single mind produce a single thing without producing many at once; or release a single beam of light that reaches from the Avīci hell below up to the Peak of Existence above, its fiery radiance blazing forth, heaven and earth utterly illuminated, sun and moon folding their own light away, the light of every heaven hidden and no longer visible — "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king," and so on. If one sees the Tathāgata, resting in the Tathāgata's own principle of no-arising, respond to every sentient being without any duality of aspect at all, and yet cause each and every being to see the Buddha standing alone directly before them — "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king," and so on. If one sees the Tathāgata, resting in the correct absorption of the tathāgatagarbha-samādhi, rise up in the four bodily postures across every dust-mote-like buddha-land in the ten directions, and yet the Dharma-nature itself never once stirs or moves — "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king," and so on. If one sees that the Tathāgata and his every miraculous transformation are neither two nor different — the Tathāgata performing the transformation, and the transformation itself performing the Tathāgata; indeterminate transformation transforming transformation, transformation again performing further transformation, inexhaustibly, all of it beyond conception, all of it the true mark of reality carrying out the work of a buddha — "May I attain buddhahood, equal to this sagely Dharma-king," and so on.

What is meant by "hearing various dharmas and giving rise to the bodhi-mind"? Whether from the Buddha and a good spiritual friend, or from the sūtras themselves, on hearing a single phrase about generation-and-extinction, one thereby understands the mundane and world-transcending dharmas alike, ever newly generated and extinguished, shifting thought after thought; precepts, wisdom, and liberation are true only in their very stillness — "May I attain buddhahood, able to teach the pure path," and so on. Or, on hearing of generation-and-extinction, one thereby understands that the Four Noble Truths are themselves neither generated nor extinguished — within emptiness there is no thorn at all, so what is there left to pull out? Who suffers, who accumulates, who cultivates, who realizes? Ultimately pure, subject and object both alike quiescent — "May I attain buddhahood, able to teach the pure path," and so on. Or, on hearing of generation-and-extinction, one thereby understands that generation-and-extinction set against no-generation-and-extinction makes two, while neither generation-and-extinction nor no-generation-and-extinction is the middle. The middle way, pure in itself, stands alone, pulled clear above both birth-and-death and nirvāṇa — "May I attain buddhahood, able to teach the utmost path for sentient beings, standing alone, pulled clear, like a lotus rising out of the water, like the moon set in open sky," and so on. Or, on hearing of generation-and-extinction, one thereby understands generation-and-extinction, no-generation-and-extinction, and neither generation-and-extinction nor no-generation-and-extinction, illuminating both at once — one that is three, three that is one, the dharma-realm's own hidden treasury, ever blissful and complete — "May I attain buddhahood, able to teach sentient beings the hidden treasury, as a person of great merit turns a stone to treasure by grasping it, or turns poison to medicine by grasping it," and so on.

If one hears of "no-birth" and takes it to mean that the two lesser vehicles have no birth within the three realms, while the bodhisattva has not yet reached no-birth — this is one reading. If one hears of "no-birth" and takes it to mean that all three vehicles alike have no birth within the three realms — this is another. If one hears of "no-birth" and takes it to mean that it is not the portion of the two lesser vehicles at all, but belongs to the bodhisattva alone, who first has no birth-and-death of limited span, and next has no birth-and-death of unlimited transformation — this is another still. If one hears of "no-birth" and understands that one instance of no-birth is every instance of no-birth — this is the deepest reading. The same pattern holds for hearing the single phrase "the immeasurable." If one hears of "the immeasurable" and takes it to mean the two lesser vehicles' own expedient path, the Four Noble Truths, the sixteen aspects of the truths, and so forth. If one hears of "the immeasurable" and understands that the two lesser vehicles use it only to subdue their own affliction, unable to transform others, while the bodhisattva uses this same immeasurable both to remove their own affliction and to transform others. If one hears of "the immeasurable" and takes it to mean that it belongs to the bodhisattva alone, who uses it to sever the dust-and-sand afflictions within the three realms, and also to subdue those beyond them. If one hears of "the immeasurable" and takes it to mean that it belongs to the bodhisattva alone, who uses it to sever the dust-and-sand afflictions both within and beyond the three realms, and also to subdue ignorance itself. If one hears of "the immeasurable" as belonging to the bodhisattva alone, who uses it to subdue and sever ignorance itself — this is the deepest reading. The same pattern holds again for hearing the single phrase "the unconditioned."

If one hears of "the unconditioned" and takes it to mean simply that which is not made by buddha, deva, human, or asura, and that the two lesser vehicles realize this unconditioned — the Sūtra of Assured Resolve says: "We ourselves study the unconditioned and have already realized it, while the bodhisattva is unable to realize it," and so on. If one hears of "the unconditioned" and takes it to mean that all three vehicles alike can realize it. If one hears of "the unconditioned" and takes it to mean that it lies beyond even the domain of the two lesser vehicles, let alone the ordinary person — the bodhisattva breaks through the provisional unconditioned and realizes the real unconditioned. If one hears of "the unconditioned" and understands that the very provisional unconditioned is itself the real unconditioned realized — this is the deepest reading. If one grasps this sense, then on hearing any single phrase, one penetrates every other phrase, down to every phrase and every dharma whatsoever, without any obstruction at all, and so on.

That one single statement can be understood in so many ways is a point difficult to make clear; let it be restated once more by way of the Treatise's own verse. If one takes "whatever arises through causes and conditions, this I declare to be empty" literally: since it says "arises through causes and conditions," how could this already be empty in any immediate sense? One would first have to analyze the causes and conditions away entirely before emptiness is ever met — calling that resulting, analyzed emptiness "empty." As for "it is also called a provisional name": what is conditioned is weak and frail, unable to stand on its own, provisionally formed by the coming-together of manifold conditions; it is "provisional" because it depends on conditions, not the "provisional" of skillfully bestowed expedient means. As for "it is also the meaning of the middle way": departing from the extremes of annihilation and permanence is named "the middle way" — not the "middle way of buddha-nature." Taken in this way, though all three clauses speak of emptiness, this does not even amount to true emptiness, much less the provisional or the middle — this is the sense proper to the Four Noble Truths of generation-and-extinction.

If, instead, what arises through causes and conditions need not be broken apart and extinguished, its very substance already being empty, and yet the provisional and the middle are still not attained — even where one speaks of the provisional and the middle, both still tend back into emptiness alone. Why is this? Every dharma is empty, since there is no master-self; the provisional, too, is empty, since it is only a provisional designation; the middle, too, is empty, since it departs from the two extremes of annihilation and permanence. Though these three ways of speaking differ, all three alike tend back into emptiness. Falling short of the bodhisattva's own path, this is not the two lesser vehicles' analytical approach to dharmas; yet failing to reach further, it is neither the distinct teaching nor the perfect teaching either — it is simply the shared crossing of the river by the three animals, the sense of a merely shared emptiness. If, instead, one takes it as "empty," "provisional," and "the middle" all at once, but understood as three distinct stages unfolding one after another, each with its own separate character: the three ways of speaking of emptiness are empty because there is no master, empty because it is a mere provisional designation, and empty because it is without any edge; the three ways of speaking of the provisional are provisional because each alike possesses a mere name; the three ways of speaking of the middle are the truth of the middle, the capacity of the middle, and the reality of the middle, and are hence alike the middle. This attains the distinct teaching, but falls short of the perfect.

If, instead, one takes it as "empty," "provisional," and "the middle" all at once, three yet one, one yet three, none obstructing any other: the three all being empty is because the path of speech and thought is cut off; the three all being provisional is because there is only a name; the three all being the middle is because it is simply the true mark of reality itself. Speaking of emptiness alone is already complete with the provisional and the middle; awakening to emptiness is already awakening to the provisional and the middle. Every other term is exactly the same. One should know, then, that on hearing a single dharma, giving rise to various understandings of it and setting forth various vows upon it is itself already the manifold ways of giving rise to the bodhi-mind. This much, too, may be understood. As for giving rise to the bodhi-mind through a pure land, an assembly of followers, cultivated practice, a dharma's own ending, undergoing suffering, or witnessing transgression — these follow the same pattern as what has already been shown, and need not be recorded in further detail.

Since what has been said above is now considerable, let it be resolved here by way of the three kinds of calming-and-contemplation. Yet the Dharma-nature itself is not even a single, fixed thing — how, then, could it be reckoned by threes and fours? What is meant here by "one, two, three, four" is this: the Dharma-nature is what is deluded about, and suffering and its accumulation are the deluding itself; the deluding has its lighter and heavier grades, and what is deluded about has its "identity with" and its "separation from." Sorted by whether it lies within or beyond the three realms, there are four kinds of suffering and accumulation; sorted by capacity and how principle is grasped, there is a difference of one, two, three, and four, and so on. Within the three realms, a person of dull faculties is deluded about the truth heavily, and so their suffering and accumulation are heavy as well; a person of sharp faculties is deluded about it lightly, and so their suffering and accumulation are light as well. Beyond the three realms, sharp and dull faculties are heavier and lighter in exactly the same way. The Dharma-nature is what is understood, and the path and cessation are the understanding itself; what is understood has its "identity with" and "separation from," and the understanding has its "skillful" and its "clumsy." Within the three realms, the dull person's understanding is one of "separation," and clumsy; the sharp person's understanding is one of "identity," and skillful. Beyond the three realms, sharp and dull faculties are identical, separate, skillful, and clumsy in exactly the same way.

Why is this? Where phenomenal conduct and principle are held apart as distinct, confusion and delusion run deep. It is like a father and son who each mistake the other for a stranger on the road: their anger and their blows are both severe. Anger here stands for accumulation, and blows stand for suffering. But if affliction is understood as itself the Dharma-nature, phenomenal conduct and principle held as identical, then suffering and accumulation grow light — as when two people who are not truly kin nonetheless mistake each other for father and son, and their anger and blows are then slight indeed. The same holds for every such further pair: coarse and subtle, branch and root, general and particular, pervading and not pervading, difficult and easy. Some say: within the three realms, suffering and accumulation lie stagnant at the bottom, and so are heavy; beyond the three realms, they rise up and out, and so are light. Some say: within the three realms, delusion lies at the skin's surface, and so is shallow; beyond, it lies within the flesh, and so is deep. Some say: within the three realms, teaching follows another's own intent, and so is clumsy; beyond, it follows one's own intent, and so is skillful. Some say: within the three realms, it matches the hearer's capacity, and so is skillful; beyond, it does not match the hearer's capacity, and so is clumsy. Some say: within the three realms, there remains a subject and object of understanding, and so it is coarse; beyond, there is no subject or object, and so it is subtle. Some say: within the three realms, the lesser path's own limit lies at the phantom city, and so it is subtle; beyond, the great path's own limit lies at the treasure-place itself, and so it is coarse.

Some say: within the three realms, afflictions are adventitious dust, and so are branch; beyond, they are one with the very substance itself, and so are root. Some say: within the three realms, they come first, and so are root; beyond, they come after, and so are branch. Some say: within the three realms, lesser and great vehicles share the same affliction, and so it is general; beyond, it belongs to the great vehicle alone, and so it is particular. Some say: within the three realms, it is partial, and so lesser and shallow, and so particular; beyond, it is perfect, and so great, and unobstructed, and so general. Some say: within the three realms, it is limited, and so does not pervade; beyond, it fills the whole dharma-realm, and so pervades. Some say: within the three realms, it is shared among every sage and worthy alike, and so pervades; beyond, it belongs to the great vehicle's own causal condition alone, and so does not pervade. Some say: within the three realms, it is severed by means of the two lesser vehicles' own expedients, and so is hard to sever; beyond, it relies only on unobstructed wisdom, and so is easy to sever. All such things are argued back and forth in various ways — yet if resolved now, they are easily understood. Taken as matters of shallow-and-deep, light-and-heavy, this is the sense of the gradual contemplation. Taken as the one, real Four Noble Truths without any such distinctions at all, this is the sense of the perfect contemplation. Taken as shifting back and forth between light and heavy, this is the sense of the indeterminate contemplation. All of these are marks of the Mahāyāna Dharma, and so must be recognized for what they are. Grasping this sense, one thereby knows the three kinds: revealing what is right by the gradual, by the indeterminate, and by the perfect-and-sudden, and so on.

Question: Since accumulation has four kinds, why does the fruit of suffering have only two? Answer: When affliction follows understanding, accumulation has four kinds; when understanding follows affliction, only the two kinds of death are incurred. It is exactly as in the Hīnayāna: when affliction follows understanding, there are the afflictions severed by seeing the truths and those severed by sustained cultivation; when understanding follows affliction, there is only the single birth-and-death of limited span. Question: Suffering and accumulation may well be dharmas that arise through causes and conditions — but why should the path and cessation be so as well? Answer: Suffering and accumulation are what is broken through; the path and cessation are what does the breaking. What does the breaking takes its very name from what it breaks through, and so both alike are dharmas arisen through causes and conditions. Hence the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "By means of extinguishing ignorance, the blazing lamp of the threefold bodhi is obtained" — this, too, is dependent origination. Question: The Dharma-nature is what is deluded about — why, then, is it sometimes spoken of as two, and sometimes as four? Answer: The Dharma-nature, following the provisional and the real, is spoken of as two; the Dharma-nature, following capacity and condition, is spoken of as four. Grasping this sense, the same fourfold pattern applies equally to beholding the Buddha's marks, hearing the Dharma, and even witnessing transgression — each, following the same example, may be worked out into four kinds and explained at length, and so on.

Now, revealing what is right by way of the four universal vows: what was already reasoned above through the Dharma-nature, through hearing the Dharma, and the rest, has already made this sense clear; for those who have not yet fully grasped it, it is explained once more by way of the four vows. Also: within the Four Noble Truths, seeking enlightenment above and transforming beings below is mostly explained in terms of "understanding"; within the four vows, it is mostly explained in terms of "vowing." Within the Four Noble Truths, this is explained generally in terms of "the buddhas of the three times"; within the four vows, it is mostly explained in terms of "the buddha yet to come." Within the Four Noble Truths, this is mostly explained in terms of "the various faculties"; within the four vows, it is explained specifically in terms of "the mind-faculty" alone. Distinguishing it this way makes it easier to understand; one who has already grasped the point need not wait for this.

Mind never arises alone; it must always depend on causes and conditions. The mind-faculty is the cause, mental objects are the condition, and the mind that arises from them is the generated dharma. This faculty and object, this subject and object, all three marks shifting and moving — stealing into being, stealing out of being, ever newly generated and extinguished, never resting for even a single thought-moment, flashing like a bolt of lightning, rushing swift as a torrent. Form is a bubble, sensation a patch of foam, perception a mirage, formations a phantom city, consciousness an illusion — and every environmental retribution one possesses, one's land, house, fields, spouse, children, and wealth, can be lost in a single thought, here one moment and gone the next. The three realms are impermanent, this whole box of existence nothing but suffering; the four mountains close in together, with nowhere left to flee — one should therefore give the whole mind, undivided, to precepts, concentration, and wisdom, breaking through delusion vertically and cutting across the sea of death horizontally, crossing beyond the stream of existence altogether. A sūtra says: "I, together with all of you, failed in the past to see the Four Noble Truths — and so we have wandered in circles for so long." Since the burning house is like this, how could one still indulge, drift, and play? For this very reason, out of compassion, the four universal vows are set forth, to pull beings out of suffering and give them happiness — just as Śākyamuni, on seeing a farmer plowing the earth, or Maitreya, on contemplating a ruined tower, were each moved to renounce the world — this is exactly that same sense. Through clearly understanding the Four Noble Truths, one is freed from the nine kinds of bondage; through setting forth the four universal vows, one is freed from the single, merely personal liberation as well. This is what is called giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind, neither bound nor freed — and with this, the sense of revealing what is right is made clear.

Next, simply contemplating faculty and object meeting each other, a single thought arises — and neither the arising itself nor what it generates is anything other than empty. To mistakenly suppose that mind "arises" at all: this arising has no self-nature, no other-nature, no shared nature, and no causeless nature. When it arises, it does not come from self, other, both, or neither; when it departs, it does not go toward east, west, south, or north. This mind is not located within, without, or in between; nor does it exist fixedly on its own — it has only a name, and is called "mind" by that name alone. Even that name does not abide, nor does it "not abide," since it cannot be found at all. Its arising is itself no "arising," and also no "non-arising" — being and non-being are both alike quiescent. The ordinary, foolish person supposes it exists; the wise know it does not — like the moon reflected in water: gaining it brings joy, losing it brings grief, to the foolish; but for one who has gone beyond, there is neither grasping nor letting go, and so neither joy nor grief at all. A mirror's image, a magical illusion, are exactly the same.

The Sūtra of Assured Resolve says: "Suffering has no arising, accumulation has no combining, the path is not two, cessation does not arise." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "To understand suffering as without suffering is itself to have the ultimate truth — and so too, understanding cessation as without cessation is itself to have the ultimate truth." Since accumulation is already empty, one should not be like the thirsty deer chasing after a mirage. Since suffering is already empty, one should not be like the foolish monkey grasping at the moon reflected in water. Since the path is already empty, one should not say: "My practice is empty, but non-practice is not empty" — as with the simile of the raft, even the Dharma itself should be let go of, how much more what is not the Dharma? Since cessation is already empty, one should not say: "Some sentient being's own lifespan — whose cessation is it, that realizes that cessation?" If birth-and-death is itself empty, what is there left to abandon? If nirvāṇa is itself empty, what is there left to attain?

A sūtra says: "I do not wish there to be, within the dharma of no-arising, any cultivation of the path — such as the four foundations of mindfulness, down to the eightfold noble path. I do not wish there to be, within the dharma of no-arising, any fruit attained — such as stream-entry, down to arhatship." Following this same pattern, one should also say: "I do not wish there to be, within the dharma of no-arising, any form, sensation, perception, formations, or consciousness. I do not wish there to be, within the dharma of no-arising, any craving, anger, or delusion." One merely feels compassion for sentient beings, and so raises the vow, to pull them free of the two sufferings and grant them the two joys. Through penetrating suffering and accumulation as empty, one is freed from the nine kinds of bondage; through penetrating the path and cessation as empty, one is freed from the single, merely personal liberation as well. This is what is called giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind, neither bound nor freed — and with this, the sense of revealing what is right is made clear.

Simply contemplating faculty and object, a single thought arises — and that arising is itself the provisional. This provisionally named mind is the very root of both delusion and understanding, and is said to give the Four Noble Truths their immeasurable marks. The three realms hold no separate dharma of their own — they are made by this one mind alone. The mind is like a skilled painter, fashioning every kind of form. The mind constructs the six destinies, distinguishing and reckoning out immeasurable kinds of difference — such as: this view and this craving are the lighter and heavier marks of accumulation within the three realms, and the lighter and heavier marks of accumulation beyond them; this birth-and-death is the lighter and heavier mark of suffering of limited span, and the lighter and heavier mark of suffering beyond the three realms. One then turns this very mind back around and, from it, brings forth understanding — just as a painter washes away the old colors and applies fresh pigment in their place. That is to say: contemplating the body as impure, down to contemplating the mind as impermanent — practices of this kind lead, by a winding path, through to the phantom city. Contemplating the body's own body as empty, down to contemplating the mind's own mind as empty — within that emptiness there is no impermanence at all, nor any impurity — practices of this kind lead directly through to the phantom city. Contemplating the body as impermanent, and that impermanence as itself empty, down to contemplating the body's own Dharma-nature as neither permanent nor impermanent, neither empty nor not empty — and contemplating the mind exactly the same way — practices of this kind lead, by a winding path, through to the treasure-place itself. Contemplating the body's own Dharma-nature as neither pure nor impure, illuminating both purity and impurity at once, down to contemplating the mind's own Dharma-nature as both permanent and impermanent, illuminating both at once — practices of this kind lead directly through to the treasure-place itself.

For such a person, the extinguishing of what is severed by seeing the truths is called stream-entry; the extinguishing of what is severed by sustained cultivation is called the third fruit. For such a person, the extinguishing of what is seen is called the ground of vision; the extinguishing of what is cultivated is called "thinned," "freed," or "accomplished," and, carried further still, is called pratyekabuddhahood. For such a person, the extinguishing of what is severed by seeing and by cultivation together is called the ten abidings; the extinguishing of the dust-and-sand afflictions is called the ten practices and the ten dedications; the extinguishing of ignorance is called the ten grounds, virtual enlightenment, and wondrous enlightenment. In the perfect teaching, for such a person, the extinguishing of what is severed by seeing and cultivation is called the ten faiths; the extinguishing of ignorance is called the ten abidings, the ten practices, the ten dedications, the ten grounds, virtual enlightenment, and wondrous enlightenment. Distinguishing the sixteenfold differences of how the path extinguishes affliction, and the whole of the Buddhadharma numerous as the sands of the Ganges, reckoned out and distinguished — this cannot be spoken of, cannot be spoken of at all; yet, like observing a fruit resting in one's own palm, there is nothing mistaken in it, for all of it arises from mind alone, and comes from nowhere else. Contemplating this one mind, one can penetrate through to the unspeakable mind; the unspeakable mind can penetrate through to the unspeakable dharma; the unspeakable dharma can penetrate through to what is unspeakably neither mind nor dharma. Contemplating every mind whatsoever is exactly the same.

The ordinary being, bound by the nine kinds of bondage, neither perceives nor knows any of this — like a wealthy blind child sitting in the midst of a treasure-store, seeing nothing at all, stumbling and catching on things at every turn, even wounded by the very treasure around them. The two lesser vehicles suffer a kind of fever: mistaking every one of these jewels for a ghost, a tiger, a dragon, or a snake, they abandon it all and flee, wandering destitute and in hardship for fifty-some years. Though bondage and liberation differ between them, both alike are poor, lacking the Tathāgata's own supreme treasure. Hence great compassion gives rise to the vow, to pull beings free of suffering and grant them happiness. This is what is called giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind, neither bound nor freed — and with this, the sense of revealing what is right is made clear.

Next: where faculty and object meet and a single thought arises, at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle — both faculty and object alike are the dharma-realm, alike ultimately empty, alike the tathāgatagarbha, alike the middle way. How are they empty? Because both alike arise from conditions, and what arises from conditions has no master; having no master, they are empty. How are they provisional? Because, having no master, they nonetheless arise — this very arising is itself the provisional. How are they the middle? Because neither ever departs from the Dharma-nature — both alike are the middle. One should know, then, that a single thought is at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle: alike ultimately empty, alike the tathāgatagarbha, alike the true mark of reality. Not three, and yet three; three, and yet not three; neither combined nor separate, and yet combined, and yet separate, and yet neither not-combined nor not-separate; unable to be called simply one or simply different, and yet one, and yet different. It is like a bright mirror: its brightness is a likeness for the empty, its reflected image a likeness for the provisional, the mirror itself a likeness for the middle — neither combined nor separate, and yet combination and separation both entirely present; neither one, two, nor three, and yet two and three are no obstacle at all. This single thought of mind is neither vertical nor horizontal, utterly beyond conception. Nor is this true of one's own mind alone — the Buddha, and every sentient being, are exactly the same. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "Mind, Buddha, and sentient beings — these three are without any difference." One should know, then, that one's own mind is already complete with the whole of the Buddhadharma.

The Sūtra of Assured Resolve says: "The foolish, amid the aggregates, sense-bases, and elements, seek bodhi elsewhere — yet the aggregates, sense-bases, and elements are themselves already bodhi; apart from these there is no bodhi to be found." The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "The Tathāgata's own liberation should be sought precisely within the very mental activity of sentient beings." "Sentient beings are themselves bodhi, and cannot be attained all over again; sentient beings are themselves nirvāṇa, and cannot be extinguished all over again." "If this is so of the one mind, it is exactly so of every other mind, and of every dharma whatsoever." The Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra says: "Vairocana pervades every place" — this is exactly that same sense. One should know, then, that every dharma whatsoever is itself already the Buddhadharma, because it is itself already the Tathāgata's own dharma-realm. If this is so, how can it also be said, "let the mind roam through the dharma-realm as through empty space"? Or that "ignorance, and illumination too, are themselves ultimately empty"? These raise "emptiness" as their leading term: emptiness is itself not-empty, and is also neither empty nor not-empty. Again it is said, "within a single mote of dust there are sūtra-scrolls as numerous as the great trichiliocosm"; "the mind is complete with the whole Buddhadharma, as the earth already holds every seed, or as a single incense-pellet holds every fragrance" — these raise "being" as their leading term: being is itself not-being, and is also neither being nor not-being. Again it is said, "a single color, a single scent, are none other than the middle way" — this raises "the middle way" as its leading term: the very middle is itself the extreme, and is also neither extreme nor not-extreme, complete and lacking nothing. One must not cling to the words themselves and so do violence to the perfect teaching, slandering and misrepresenting the sage's own intent.

If one grasps this understanding, then when faculty and object meet and a single thought arises, the faculty itself is the eighty-four thousand dharma-treasuries; the object is exactly the same — a single thought arising is likewise the eighty-four thousand dharma-treasuries. The dharma-realm of buddhahood, the dharma-realm one is faced with, and the dharma-realm that arises — none of it is anything other than the Buddhadharma. Birth-and-death is itself nirvāṇa: this is what is called the truth of suffering. A single mote of dust holds three dust-motes; a single mind holds three minds; each and every mote of dust holds eighty-four thousand gates of worldly affliction, and each and every mind is exactly the same. Craving, anger, and delusion are themselves already bodhi; affliction itself is already bodhi: this is what is called the truth of accumulation. Turning each and every gate of worldly affliction around, it becomes precisely the eighty-four thousand gates of samādhi, and precisely the eighty-four thousand gates of dhāraṇī, and precisely the eighty-four thousand gates of the antidote, and it likewise accomplishes the eighty-four thousand pāramitās. Ignorance, once turned, transforms directly into illumination — like ice melting into water, nothing brought in from far away, nothing arriving from anywhere else — for a single thought of mind is already, universally, complete with all of it. It is like a wish-fulfilling jewel: neither possessing treasure, nor lacking it. To say it has none is a false statement; to say it has some is a wrong view. It cannot be known by the discriminating mind, nor argued out in words. Sentient beings, in the midst of this inconceivable Dharma that was never bound to begin with, imagine bondage into being through their own thinking; and within a Dharma that was never in need of liberation, they go seeking liberation. For this very reason, great compassion arises, and the four universal vows are raised, to pull beings free of the two sufferings and grant them the two joys — hence this is called "giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind, neither bound nor freed."

The three passes just given all spoke in terms of the Four Noble Truths; this present one speaks in terms of the dharma-treasuries, worldly afflictions, samādhis, and pāramitās — yet the sense is plainly the very same throughout. Question: Earlier, in rejecting what is wrong, every one of the ten was together called wrong; now, in revealing what is right, why is everything together called right? Answer: What is meant by calling everything together "right" is that all of it is alike neither bound nor freed, and so all is called right, since all alike seek enlightenment above. Again, progressing in sequence, gradually entering into what is real, everything together is called right. Again, since the real is hard to know directly, the provisional is borrowed to reveal the real, and so everything together is called right — these three ways of putting it correspond to the worldly siddhānta. Again, the provisional does not contain the real, while the real does contain the provisional; wishing to make this containment easy to see, everything together is called right — this way of putting it corresponds to the siddhānta for the individual. Again, the one bodhi-mind is every bodhi-mind; if this were not stated, the whole would not be known through the one, and so everything together is called right — this way of putting it corresponds to the siddhānta of the antidote. Considered to the very end, the first three passes are stated in terms of the provisional, and the last in terms of the real. It is like a skilled physician possessing a single secret formula that already contains every other formula within it, an agada elixir whose power already includes the power of every other medicine — like eating a bowl of rich milk-gruel, needing nothing further at all, complete and lacking nothing, like the wish-fulfilling jewel itself. The sense of revealing what is right through the provisional and the real together may be understood from this.

Again, as for everything together being "one": this is because of the one great cause and condition. What is meant by "one"? Because it is the one reality, not false; because it is the one path, pure in itself; because it is the one path by which every unobstructed person goes beyond birth-and-death. What is meant by "great"? Because its nature is vast and all-containing — great wisdom, great severance, that which great beings ride upon, the great lion's roar, of great benefit to ordinary being and sage alike — hence it is called "great." "Matter" means the very protocol of every buddha of the three times and ten directions, by which they themselves accomplish the buddha-path and by which they transform and bring across sentient beings — hence it is named "matter." "Cause and condition" means that sentient beings, by this cause, move the Buddha, and the Buddha, by this condition, arises in response — hence it is called "cause and condition." Again, as for its being called "right": it cannot be called three, cannot be called one, cannot be called neither three nor one — and yet it is called three, and called one — hence it is named "the inconceivable right." Again, as for its being called right: it is not something made — not made by buddha, deva, human, or asura. Its eternal object has no mark; its eternal wisdom has no object to grasp. Wisdom without an object to grasp takes as its object the object that has no mark; the markless object gives its own mark to the wisdom that has no object to grasp. Wisdom and object merge into one, and yet "object" and "wisdom" are still spoken of — hence this is named "the unconditioned."

Again, as for its being called right: as the Sūtra of Mañjuśrī's Questions says, "breaking through every wrong arising is what is called giving rise to the bodhi-mind; constantly following the mark of bodhi is also giving rise to the bodhi-mind." It also says: "arising without arising, and following without following." It also says: "going beyond every breaking-through, going beyond every following, illuminating both breaking-through and following at once — this is called giving rise to the bodhi-mind." These three are neither one nor different — as principle, as matter, and as neither principle nor matter — hence this is called "right." Following this same pattern, every dharma-gate — the unconditioned, the inconceivable, the one great cause and condition, and the rest — can equally be spoken of as breaking-through, as following, and as neither breaking-through nor following, illuminating both at once. Again, the first three approaches are contemplated by lesser, middling, and higher wisdom; the last is contemplated by the very highest wisdom of all. The first three are shared with other vehicles; the last is unshared. The first three are shallow, near, and roundabout; the last is deep, far-reaching, and direct, and so on. The first three are lesser-within-great; the last is great-within-great, highest-within-highest, perfect-within-perfect, complete-within-complete, real-within-real, true-within-true, definitive-within-definitive, profound-within-profound, wondrous-within-wondrous, inconceivable-within-inconceivable. One who can, in this way, reject what is wrong and reveal what is right, embodying the provisional and recognizing the real, and thereby gives rise to the mind — such a one is the very seed of every buddha there is.

Revealing what is right by way of the six identities: is it the initial mind that is right, or the final mind? Answer: as with the Treatise's own simile of the wick and the flame — it is not the beginning alone, yet it is never apart from the beginning; it is not the end alone, yet it is never apart from the end. If wisdom and faith are both complete, then on hearing of it, a single thought is already right. Through faith, one does not slander it; through wisdom, one is not afraid of it — beginning and end are both alike right. Without faith, one places the sage's own state too high above oneself, as though it had no part in one's own capacity; without wisdom, arrogance and conceit arise, supposing oneself already equal to the Buddha — beginning and end are then both alike wrong. For this very reason, one must know the six identities: identity in principle, identity in name, identity in contemplative practice, identity in resemblance, identity in a portion of the truth, and identity in the ultimate. These six identities run from the ordinary being at the start to the sage at the end. Because it begins with the ordinary being, doubt and timidity are removed; because it ends with the sage, arrogance and conceit are removed, and so on.

Identity in principle: a single thought of mind is itself already the principle of the tathāgatagarbha. Because of "thus," it is already empty; because of "treasury," it is already provisional; because of "principle," it is already the middle — the three wisdoms complete within the one mind, inconceivably so. As explained above, "three truths, one truth, neither three nor one"; a single color, a single scent, every dharma, every mind — all are exactly the same. This is called "identity in principle is the bodhi-mind," and also "identity in principle is calming-and-contemplation." Its very stillness is named "calming"; its very illumination is named "contemplation." Identity in name: though principle is already right in this way, one uses it day after day without knowing it, since one has not yet heard of the three truths and does not recognize the Buddhadharma at all — like the eye of an ox or sheep, unable to make out direction. But then, whether from a good spiritual friend or from the sūtras themselves, one hears what has been explained above, the one real bodhi, and comes to understand it within the realm of names, knowing that every dharma whatsoever is itself the Buddhadharma. This is called "identity in name is bodhi," and also "identity in name is calming-and-contemplation." Before one has heard it, one runs about everywhere seeking; once one has heard it, the seeking, grasping mind comes to rest — this is named "calming." Simply believing in the Dharma-nature, without yet believing in anything further beyond it, is named "contemplation."

Identity in contemplative practice: if one has only heard the name and speaks it with the mouth, like an insect gnawing at wood that happens to form the shape of a written character — the insect itself does not know whether this is a character or not — then, without real penetration, how could this be bodhi? One must bring the mind to contemplate clearly, principle and wisdom corresponding to each other, so that one's practice matches one's own words, and one's words match one's own practice. The Sūtra of the Head Grove says: "Much speech without practice is not what I mean — I mean the mind itself practicing bodhi." Where mind and mouth correspond in this way, this is bodhi at the level of contemplative practice. The Treatise's own fourfold assessment says that when learning and wisdom are both complete, it is like the eye receiving sunlight, illuminating everything without error. Contemplative practice is exactly the same: though principle has not yet been directly met, the contemplating mind does not cease — as in the Śūraṅgama Sūtra's simile of the archer aiming at a target. This is called "bodhi at the level of contemplative practice," also named "calming-and-contemplation at the level of contemplative practice." Constantly holding to this contemplation is named "contemplation"; the ceasing of every other thought is named "calming," and so on. Identity in resemblance is bodhi: as one's contemplation grows ever clearer, and one's calming grows ever more still, like an archer's practiced aim drawing ever nearer the target's own center — this is named "wisdom of contemplation in resemblance." Every worldly occupation and productive undertaking no longer runs contrary to the Dharma; every thought and deliberation is already exactly what the Buddha's own sūtras have taught, as explained in the passage on the purification of the six faculties. Perfectly subduing ignorance, without yet severing it, is named "calming"; a wisdom resembling the middle way is named "contemplation," and so on.

Identity in a portion of the truth: through the power of resemblance-level contemplation, one enters the stage of the copper wheel — first breaking through ignorance, seeing the buddha-nature, opening the treasure-store, and manifesting suchness itself — this is named "the abiding of the arising resolve"; and onward through "virtual enlightenment," ignorance growing ever thinner, wisdom growing ever more manifest, like the moon from its first day to its fourteenth, its light approaching fullness as the darkness approaches its end. Should someone be liberated by means of a buddha's own body, the eight aspects of accomplishing the path are shown; should someone be liberated by means of a body from any of the other nine dharma-realms, the universal gate manifests accordingly, as the sūtra explains at length. This is called "bodhi as a portion of the truth," also named "calming-and-contemplation as a portion of the truth," "wisdom and severance as a portion of the truth." Identity in the ultimate is bodhi: with a single further turning beyond virtual enlightenment, one enters wondrous enlightenment — the light of wisdom perfectly full, with nothing left to increase — this is named "the fruit of bodhi." The great severance of nirvāṇa has nothing further left to sever — this is named "the fruit of the fruit." Virtual enlightenment does not yet pass through to this; only the Buddha can pass through to it — beyond the very last syllable, there is no further path left to speak of. Hence this is named "ultimate bodhi," also "ultimate calming-and-contemplation." To sum it all up in a single further simile: it is like a poor person whose own house already holds a hidden treasure, though they do not know it — a friend points it out, and only then do they come to know of it; weeding away the undergrowth, they dig it out, drawing gradually nearer; once near, the treasure-store opens, and they take from it and use it without limit. Taking these six similes together, the whole may be understood, and so on.

Question: What is meant by the Treatise's own five kinds of bodhi? Answer: The Treatise ranks them vertically according to the distinct teaching's own stages; here they are ranked vertically according to the perfect teaching's own stages instead. Matched together: "the bodhi of the arising resolve" corresponds to identity in name; "the bodhi of the subdued mind" corresponds to identity in contemplative practice; "the bodhi of the illuminated mind" corresponds to identity in resemblance; "the bodhi of emergence and arrival" corresponds to identity in a portion of the truth; "the unsurpassed bodhi" corresponds to identity in the ultimate. Using those same names again for the perfect teaching's own stages: "the arising resolve" is the ten abidings; "the subdued mind" is the ten practices. Question: If affliction is already severed at the abidings, how can it still be spoken of as merely "subdued" at the practices? Answer: This "subduing" is carried out by means of the true path itself. It is exactly as in the Hīnayāna, where breaking through views is called "severing," and dealing with what is cultivated through sustained practice is called "subduing." "The illuminated mind" is the ten dedications; "emergence and arrival" is the ten grounds; "the unsurpassed" is wondrous enlightenment. Moreover, from the ten abidings onward, each stage is already complete with all five kinds of bodhi, all the way up to wondrous enlightenment's own ultimate five kinds of bodhi. Hence the Treatise on the Grounds says: "From the very first ground onward, the merits of every ground are already complete within it" — this is exactly that same sense.

Question: Why is it specifically in terms of the perfect teaching that the six identities are explained? Answer: The perfect teaching's own contemplation of every dharma is expressed, throughout, in terms of "the six identities." Hence, taking the perfect teaching's own intent as the standard for every dharma, the six identities are used everywhere to rank its stages. The other teachings do not work this way, and so this scheme is not used for them. Within their own teaching, could it not still be applied there too? It could — yet doing so shallowly and superficially is not that teaching's own proper intent.

As for everything rejected as wrong throughout what has come before: first, taken in terms of the truth of suffering, only the rising and sinking of the mundane world was rejected; next, taken in terms of the Four Noble Truths, only crooked, clumsy, and shallow wisdom was rejected; next, taken in terms of the four vows and their conduct; and next, taken in terms of the stages of the six identities, turning ever deeper and finer — only then is what is right finally, fully revealed. Hence it is known: the bright moon-pearl lies in the ninth-deep abyss, beneath the black dragon's very chin — only one of true resolve and true virtue can ever retrieve it. How unlike the ordinary person of the world, coarse, shallow, and hollow, who competes to seize on tile, stone, grass, and wood, falsely taking them for treasure! Those of shallow learning, skimming only the surface, understand nothing at all!