The Great Cart: Completing the Ten Modes

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

Fifth, distinguishing blockage from passage: also named "knowing gain and loss," also named "knowing whether a character is truly a character." As explained above, comprehensively breaking through every dharma ought to lead directly through to the unborn; should one fail to pass through in this way, one must then search out gain and loss, since one will otherwise inevitably remain blocked in disputes of right and wrong, unable to form a single, unified understanding. Why is this? Should one, like the non-Buddhist paths, cling with attachment to the very wisdom that contemplates emptiness, one ought to use the four propositions to break through comprehensively, so that what breaks through and what is broken through both alike become blockage turned to passage. Should one not cling fixedly to the wisdom that contemplates emptiness, then what breaks through is unlike what is broken through, and one merely breaks through the blockage while preserving the passage. It is like removing the membrane while still nurturing the pearl within, or breaking through the bandit while still protecting the general. If this is so, then the great guide, skillfully knowing blockage and passage, is able to lead the assembly through, passing five hundred yojanas. It has been said, in the past, that "the sixth ground, views and habituated thought exhausted, is three hundred; the seventh and eighth grounds are four hundred; the ninth and tenth grounds are five hundred." This sense conflicts with the Treatise, which takes the two lesser vehicles as four hundred — yet the path of the two lesser vehicles is not the seventh or eighth ground at all. Masters of the *Compendium of the Mahāyāna* take the three realms as three hundred, with the two kinds of birth-and-death — of skillful means, and of causes and conditions — together making up five hundred; yet this fails to gather in the full sense, since there is, further, birth-and-death with a subsequent birth and birth-and-death without one — to which hundred would these belong? Masters of the Dilun school take the ten faiths, abidings, practices, dedications, and grounds as the five hundred — but this conflicts with the Lotus Sūtra, in which the phantom city is built beyond three hundred yojanas, whereas this account would build it at merely two hundred. There are, further, those who explain the three realms as three hundred, with the two lesser vehicles making up the full five hundred — but this account has three faults: first, if the phantom city is established beyond the three realms, how could the two lesser vehicles, already beyond the three realms, fail to enter that very city, and instead continue on for a further four hundred, five hundred? Beyond four hundred, five hundred, there is no further phantom city at all — into what, then, could they possibly enter, to be called "the two lesser vehicles"? Second, only once the phantom city is dissolved can one advance further — yet if the city has not yet been dissolved, how could one abruptly advance to four hundred, five hundred? Third, the two lesser vehicles enter the very same phantom city together — how, then, could the śrāvaka be four hundred and the pratyekabuddha five hundred? Some take the five abodes of affliction as the five hundred — yet the two lesser vehicles have already severed four of these abodes, and so the phantom city ought to be established beyond four hundred, not five. Some take the severing of habituated thought across the three realms as three hundred, dust-and-sand as four hundred, and ignorance as five hundred — but this, too, is mistaken, since a yojana is fundamentally a simile for affliction: how could views, though more numerous, go uncounted, while habituated thought, though fewer, be reckoned as the full three hundred? This very name and sense originates, at root, from the Lotus Sūtra itself. The Lotus Sūtra raises five hundred as a simile, originally likening it to the perilous road of birth-and-death, which the guide surveys and understands, matching it accordingly — this ought to be explained through three separate passes in order to actually accord with the sūtra's own text: first, in terms of the very location of birth-and-death; second, in terms of affliction; third, in terms of contemplative wisdom. Every prior master's own explanation, whether too broad or too narrow, whether moving or resting, fails to accord with the text itself — like holding a single-holed key and trying to open a lock that needs three. The first school, in terms of the shared teaching's own stage, establishes the phantom city at four hundred; the Compendium school, in terms of birth-and-death, divides it into two kinds set beyond the wilderness; the Dilun school, in terms of the distinct teaching's own stages, establishes the phantom city within the three realms; the next school proceeds directly, without waiting to open the provisional, manifesting the real of itself. Since every one of these masters has erred in this way, what, then, is the actual sense of the Treatise? The Treatise gives two passages: the first takes the two lesser vehicles only as far as four hundred, without reaching five hundred; the latter passage takes the two lesser vehicles as merely one hundred. Reconciling these now: the Treatise clarifies the shared teaching's own sense, in which the shared teaching takes the real truth as its own ultimate limit — once one has passed beyond the three realms, the phantom city not yet broken through, one simply enters nirvāṇa, and it is this very nirvāṇa that is pointed to as the four hundred mark. And as for further taking the two lesser vehicles as merely one hundred, this clarifies, further, the bodhisattva who emerges into the provisional, emerging into the provisional from emptiness — nirvāṇa itself not being the one hundred mark, but rather entering the three realms being the three hundred mark. Reading the text in this way brings no difficulty at all, whether for the sūtra or for the treatise.

Here, then, is clarified the sense of the five hundred yojanas: first, in terms of the very location of birth-and-death — the three realms' own retribution is three hundred, while the land of skillful means with residue and the land of real reward without obstruction together make up the five hundred yojanas' own location; second, in terms of affliction — the affliction of seeing the truth is one hundred, the five lower fetters are two hundred, the five higher fetters are three hundred, dust-and-sand is four hundred, and ignorance is five hundred; third, in terms of contemplative wisdom — the wisdom of the contemplation of emptiness knows three hundred, the wisdom of the contemplation of the provisional knows four hundred, and the wisdom of the contemplation of the middle knows five hundred. This accords with the text itself, and is free of every fault found in the prior masters' own accounts. Further, since every prior master places these stages so distant, and a beginning practitioner has not yet even severed view, how could he possibly pass beyond five hundred yojanas at all? Discussing yojanas here, there is both horizontal blockage-and-passage and vertical blockage-and-passage. The horizontal, taken fully in terms of the threefold dharma: suffering and its origin are blockage, the path and cessation are passage; ignorance and the twelve links of dependent origination are blockage, the extinguishing of ignorance is passage; the six coverings of the mind are blockage, the six pāramitās are passage. As for vertical blockage-and-passage: the segmented birth-and-death of views and habituated thought is blockage, the contemplation of entering emptiness from the provisional is passage; the unmanifest birth-and-death of skillful means is blockage, the contemplation of entering the provisional from emptiness is passage; the birth-and-death caused by ignorance and its conditions is blockage, the direct contemplation of the middle way is passage. Here, then, one should weave the horizontal together with the vertical to examine blockage and passage. Thus, entering emptiness from the provisional breaks through every view — the single, compound, complete, and wordless views — and the eighty-one categories of habituated thought, nine-times-nine. Afflictions of this kind are, at root, defilement itself, increasing affliction and blocking the practitioner — how, then, could one suddenly cling to them, calling one thing right and another wrong? Giving rise to every binding karma, one leaks and falls into birth-and-death, seeing only suffering and its origin, never the path and cessation. Since one does not recognize the Four Noble Truths within view and habituated thought, this very not-knowing is named "ignorance," extending all the way to old age and death. Simply constructing cause and condition after cause and condition, ignorance is never extinguished; and being unextinguished, one clings to it firmly, unable to let go, remaining forever on this shore, never reaching the other. The Great Sūtra says: "A child, hungry, takes fruit from a pile of dung — the wise rebuke him for it, and he blushes, ashamed." Losing the pure Dharma in just this way is named "blockage." Should one, with respect to every view, give rise to even the slightest thought recognizing that it has no fixed nature, no permanence, no master, then inversion is thereby broken through, and where inversion is broken there is no karma, and where there is no karma there is no fruit — this is named "the path," and, being the path, it brings cessation. Should one recognize the Four Noble Truths, there is then no ignorance, and no old age and death either. Since cause and condition are thereby destroyed, one abandons every mode of existence and reaches the other shore. One should apply this very sense across each and every mind, each and every faculty, each and every object. Should the threefold blockage arise, one breaks through it so that it becomes passage; should this same threefold passage already be present, one nurtures it so that it comes to fruition. Furthermore, embodying view is itself already emptiness, and the very faculty that embodies it is likewise already empty. Even the arhat's own mind is still named "the uncontaminated five aggregates" — my own contemplation, not yet genuine, how could it fail to be an aggregate as well? Should one calculate the aggregates as real, this results in binding karma and birth-and-death; should one fail to recognize the Four Noble Truths within the aggregates, this is itself already ignorance. Should one cling with attachment to the very wisdom that contemplates emptiness, one is then unable to let go of it — one applies, instead, the very sense of emptiness-identity across each and every mind, each and every faculty, each and every object. Should the threefold blockage be present, one breaks through it so that it becomes passage; should this same threefold passage already be present, one nurtures it so that it comes to fruition. This, then, skillfully passes beyond the blockage of view and habituated thought, and skillfully passes through the full three hundred yojanas.

Next, weaving the horizontal together with the vertical to examine blockage and passage in the contemplation of entering the provisional from emptiness: this is readily understood. With respect to the dharma of illness, the dharma of medicine, and the dharma of administering medicine, across each and every dharma, each and every faculty, each and every object, one clarifies and recognizes the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection involved. Should the threefold blockage arise, one breaks through it so that it becomes passage; should this same threefold passage already be present, one nurtures it so that it comes to fruition. This, then, passes beyond the blockage of unknowing, and passes through the full four hundred yojanas. Next, weaving the horizontal together with the vertical to examine the direct contemplation of the middle way: with respect to ignorance, the Dharma-nature, and the real and the conditioned, across each and every dharma, each and every faculty, each and every object, one clarifies and recognizes the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection involved. Should the threefold blockage arise, one breaks through it so that it becomes passage; should this same threefold passage already be present, one nurtures it so that it comes to fruition. This, then, passes beyond the blockage of ignorance, and passes through the full five hundred yojanas. Should one discuss blockage and passage strictly in this sequential, vertical manner — the sixth ground, the first ground — this would take kalpa after kalpa before blockage could ever become passage. The Great Sūtra says: "The stream-enterer arrives after eighty thousand kalpas; the pratyekabuddha arrives after ten thousand kalpas" — arriving, that is, at the bodhisattva's own first abiding, where the resolve first arises. This discusses only the sagely stages — what benefit could this possibly bring to the beginning practitioner? Furthermore, discussing blockage and passage horizontally, taken separately: as the Larger Sūtra says, "There is a bodhisattva who, from the very first resolve, is already corresponding with omniscience itself" — this is corresponding with emptiness. Should one not yet correspond with it at the very outset, one should apply the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection to examine each and every mind. Should the threefold blockage be present, one breaks through it so that it becomes passage; should this same threefold passage already be present, one nurtures it so that it comes to fruition, thereby passing beyond the full three hundred yojanas. It further says: "There is a bodhisattva who, from the very first resolve, is already able to roam freely in spiritual powers and purify buddha-lands" — this is the sense of emerging into the provisional. Should one, at the very first resolve, cultivate the provisional, one likewise applies the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection to examine each and every mind, breaking through blockage and nurturing passage, passing beyond the full four hundred yojanas. It further says: "There is a bodhisattva who, from the very first resolve, is already able to sit at the seat of enlightenment and accomplish correct awakening" — this is precisely the sense of the middle. Should one, at the very first resolve, cultivate the middle, one likewise applies the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection to examine each and every mind, breaking through blockage and nurturing passage, passing beyond the full five hundred yojanas. Explained in this way, though the beginning practitioner is indeed able to discuss blockage and passage, the three dharmas still remain separate from one another. The Great Treatise cites three similes: the first is traveling on foot; the second is riding on horseback; the third is spiritual power. Both traveling on foot and riding on horseback require knowing blockage from passage; but spiritual power meets with no obstruction at all, and blockage is powerless to obstruct it — mountains and cliffs are all alike insubstantial to it, so what "passage" is there left to choose? The first contemplation is likened to traveling on foot; the second contemplation, to riding on horseback; the third contemplation, to flight. Yet these three senses remain divided from one another, and this, too, is not what is used here.

Should one discuss the three contemplations vertically, the two earlier contemplations, taken each on its own ground, are passage, while measured against what lies above them, they are blockage; and should the final contemplation surpass what lies beneath it, this is passage, while being cut off from the lesser is blockage. Should one discuss the three contemplations horizontally, each taken within its own proper division is passage, while their failure to gather one another in is blockage. The marks of the dharma, shallow or deep, admit of blockage and passage in whichever way one takes them — how much more so, then, once suffering, its origin, ignorance, and covering affliction arise within them? This being so, all of it is blockage, with no passage left at all. Should the mark of the dharma be understood as the three contemplations in a single mind, this itself breaks through the blockage-and-passage found within the vertical account; the three contemplations as a single mind breaks through the blockage-and-passage found within the horizontal account. Emptiness is itself the three contemplations, and hence breaks through the blockage-and-passage of traveling on foot across mountains and cliffs, the three hundred mark; the provisional is itself the three contemplations, and breaks through the blockage-and-passage of riding on horseback, the four hundred mark; the middle is itself the three contemplations, and breaks through the blockage-and-passage of spiritual power. Precisely because a single mind is able to be at once empty, provisional, and the middle, every mountain, river, and cliff of stone, every demon and every band of the non-Buddhist paths, are all alike as insubstantial as empty space itself. The single mind's three contemplations roam through this without any obstruction whatsoever, never once needing to descend from the low to climb the high, or avoid the mountain to follow the valley instead. Wherever one turns, every blockage there becomes passage without obstruction, able to pass the full five hundred yojanas and arrive at the treasure-place itself. This is named "passage." Passage is, at root, set against blockage — but once wherever one turns is already like empty space itself, there is no longer any blockage left at all; and where there is no blockage, there is, correspondingly, no passage either. Should one, within this very absence of blockage and passage, still give rise to suffering, its origin, ignorance, and obstructing affliction, this is not merely the loss of spiritual power, but the loss of the horse and of one's own feet as well. What breaks through being identical with what is broken through, a character being no longer a mere character at all — it is like that worm's own trail, which happened by chance to form the shape of the three contemplations' own name, and yet the worm itself knows nothing of whether this is truly a character or not. Should one, with respect to each and every dharma, each and every faculty, each and every object, find them all at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, complete with the truth, the causal condition, and the perfection, this is named "neither passage nor blockage," illuminating both blockage and passage at once. This is exactly what is meant by the wise recognizing whether a character is truly a character; also named the skilled physician knowing gain from loss. As it is when clarified through the gate of the unborn, distinguishing blockage from passage, so it is through every other Dharma-gate as well. This is the beginning practitioner passing the full five hundred yojanas, and one ought now to clarify the sense of the six identities accordingly.

Question: blockage-and-passage, gain-and-loss, and whether-a-character-is-truly-a-character — are these one and the same, or different? Answer: these are a single sense, spoken of in various different ways, though a certain distinction still remains: blockage-and-passage is discussed in terms of understanding; gain-and-loss is discussed in terms of practice; whether-a-character-is-truly-a-character is discussed in terms of the teaching itself. The Sūtra of Golden Light says: "Correct hearing, correct listening, correct discernment, correct understanding of conditions, correct and complete awakening." Knowing whether a character is truly a character is correct hearing and correct listening; knowing gain and loss is correct discernment and correct understanding of conditions; knowing blockage and passage is correct and complete awakening. Though this distinction remains, all three alike reveal one and the same underlying sense. Question: does horizontal blockage block vertical passage? Does vertical blockage block horizontal passage? Does horizontal passage open vertical blockage? Does vertical passage open horizontal blockage? Answer: taken one way, yes; taken a second way, no. As for the "yes": since ignorance is itself already view and habituated thought, how could this fail to be a horizontal obstruction as well? And since the wisdom of the middle heals everything without exception, how could it fail to open both horizontal and vertical blockage alike? This is the sense in which the answer is, taken one way, "yes." Explained a second way, however: horizontal blockage is a near obstruction, and is unable to block vertical passage; horizontal passage is of weak strength, and is unable to open vertical blockage; vertical blockage lies deep and far, and does not constitute a horizontal obstruction; and vertical passage corresponds only to its own proper counterpart, and does not open horizontal blockage either.

Sixth, clarifying the cultivation and regulation of the branches of the path: the branches of the path admit of four approaches: first, taken on their own terms; second, mutually gathering one another in; third, mapped to stage; fourth, generating one another in sequence. First, clarifying what is taken on its own terms: one need not have every branch complete before the path can be attained. Whether three, four, two, five, a single seven, or merely eight — taken on its own terms, each is already the path, hence it is said, "One ought to attain the path relying on the foundations of mindfulness alone." It is also said, "This alone is the seat of enlightenment"; and, "This alone is the Great Vehicle." Since this holds for the foundations of mindfulness, it likewise holds for every other branch. This is the branches of the path taken on their own terms, not yet their mutual regulation. Second, clarifying their mutual gathering-in: the single dharma of the foundations of mindfulness already gathers in every other branch. Citing the Treatise's own text: "Since the foundations of mindfulness already gather in every other branch, every other branch, in turn, gathers in the foundations of mindfulness as well." This is the branches of the path mutually gathering one another in, likewise not yet their mutual regulation. Third, mapped to stage: the foundations of mindfulness correspond to their own proper stage; the four right efforts are the stage of warmth; the four bases of supernormal power are the stage of the summit; the five faculties are the stage of forbearance; the five powers are the stage of the supreme mundane dharma; the eightfold path is the stage of seeing the truth; the seven factors of awakening are the stage of the path of cultivation. This is mapping them to stage, likewise not yet their mutual regulation. Fourth, generating one another in sequence: cultivating the foundations of mindfulness is able to generate the four right efforts; the four right efforts bring forth the four bases of supernormal power; the four bases of supernormal power generate the five faculties; the five faculties generate the five powers; the five powers generate the seven factors of awakening; the seven factors of awakening enter the eightfold path — this is their skillful cultivation and regulation. The precepts, concentration, wisdom, and the rest are all named "correct." "A mind that is pure and constantly unified is thereby able to see prajñā itself" — this is their generating one another in sequence, and is likewise their regulation. As for why this is needed: though comprehensively breaking through every dharma and distinguishing blockage from passage have already been discussed above, without regulating the branches of the path, how could one possibly correspond swiftly with the genuine Dharma at all? The genuine Dharma is named "the uncontaminated"; the branches of the path are "the contaminated" — yet the contaminated is able to serve as the very expedient means for the uncontaminated. Should this expedient means be misapplied, the genuine principle becomes difficult to reach. It is like the method of brewing wine: should the yeast and warmth be applied just rightly, water is transformed into wine; should the leaven be misjudged, the flavor fails to form at all. The Great Treatise says: "The thirty-seven factors are the very dharma of practicing the path; the city of nirvāṇa has three gates." The three gates are the near cause; the branches of the path are the distant cause. For this very reason, the branches of the path must be cultivated and regulated.

Question: the branches of the path are the dharma of the two lesser vehicles — how, then, could they be the bodhisattva's own path? Answer: the Great Treatise rebukes this very question: "Who says such a thing? Neither the Tripiṭaka teaching nor the Mahāyāna itself ever makes such a claim — how, then, could one insist, one-sidedly, that this is merely the Hīnayāna's own dharma?" The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "The branches of the path are one's own good spiritual friend, and it is through them that correct awakening is accomplished; the branches of the path are themselves the seat of enlightenment, and are themselves the Great Vehicle." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "One who is able to cultivate the eightfold path thereby sees the buddha-nature directly, and is named one who has attained the ghee itself." The Great Collection Sūtra says: "The thirty-seven factors are the bodhisattva's own precious-torch dhāraṇī." Sūtras of this kind all, without exception, clarify the branches of the path — when, then, could they ever be exclusively the Hīnayāna's own? As for the Great Sūtra's own saying that "the thirty-seven factors are the cause of nirvāṇa, but not the cause of the great nirvāṇa; it is the boundless, incalculable dharmas that assist bodhi that are the cause of the great nirvāṇa" — there is, in truth, no separate set of branches of the path beyond these same branches, just as there is no fifth truth beyond the Four Noble Truths themselves. A single instance of suffering and its origin is like the dirt beneath a single fingernail; distinguishing suffering and its origin into their boundless further aspects is like the dirt of the ten directions entire. Directly clarifying a single instance of the thirty-seven factors as the cause of nirvāṇa, there are, further, boundless further instances of the thirty-seven branches assisting the path, named the cause of the great nirvāṇa. How could there be boundless instances? Because there are four kinds of the truth of the path, and because there are sixteen gates. There are, further, contaminated branches of the path: the desire realm's own twenty-two, the not-yet-arrived state's own thirty-six, and the first dhyāna's own thirty-seven — all of these are contaminated branches of the path, likened to milk; the Tripiṭaka teaching's own branches of the path are likened to cream; the shared teaching's own, to curdled butter; the distinct teaching's own, to clarified butter; the perfect teaching's own, to ghee itself. The Great Sūtra's own text and sense accord exactly with this, and there is no separate assisting dharma to be found beyond the branches of the path themselves. Some say the thirty-seven factors are merely an auxiliary to the path; others say they are the correct path itself. The Great Treatise says, "This is the bodhisattva's own path" — this text seems to favor the latter. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "The branches of the path are one's own good spiritual friend, and it is through them that correct awakening is accomplished" — this text seems to favor the former.

Further, should one say the thirty-seven factors are contaminated, how, then, could it be said that the seven factors of awakening belong to the path of cultivation? The Lotus Sūtra says, "The uncontaminated wealth of the faculties, powers, awakening-factors, and path" — how, then, could the eightfold path come before the seven factors of awakening? This ought to be distinguished through three propositions: first, that the thirty-seven factors are, every one, contaminated; second, that they are, every one, uncontaminated; third, that they are both contaminated and uncontaminated at once. As the Great Treatise says: "Cultivating the eightfold path attains the initial, wholesome, contaminated five aggregates." The wholesome, contaminated five aggregates are precisely the dharma of warmth, and even before the dharma of warmth is reached, one is still able to cultivate the eightfold path. How, then, does one cultivate it in this way? At the very outset, receiving the dharma from a teacher, binding the mind in constant recollection, is named "the foundations of mindfulness"; seeking this dharma and diligently carrying it out is named "the four right efforts"; cultivating it with a single, unified mind is named "the four bases of supernormal power"; the five wholesome roots being brought forth is named "the faculties"; these faculties growing in strength is named "the powers"; distinguishing the function of the path is named "the seven factors of awakening"; and proceeding along the calm and settled path is named "the eightfold path." Cultivated in exactly this way, one attains the wholesome, contaminated five aggregates. One should thus know that the branches of the path can indeed be, every one, contaminated. As for their being, every one, uncontaminated: this refers to the branches of the path as practiced within the seeing of the truth and habituated reflection upon it, which are, without exception, uncontaminated throughout. This is precisely the sense intended by the Lotus Sūtra's own text. Though it has long been said that the eightfold path and the seven factors of awakening and the rest can be cultivated even within the contaminated, there has, until now, been no textual proof of this. Yet the Abhidharma-mahāvibhāṣā says: "Should the eightfold path come after the seven factors of awakening, it may indeed be either contaminated or uncontaminated." Why is this? Because, relying on the eightfold path to enter the seeing of the truth, this is indeed also uncontaminated; "should the eightfold path come before the seven factors of awakening, it is, without exception, uncontaminated throughout." This, then, is readily understood. Citing the Vibhāṣā's own text proves both senses at once. And this contaminated-or-uncontaminated distinction is itself precisely the sense of mapping them against stage. The thirty-seven factors belonging to every kind of truth of the path are not recorded here in full; only the thirty-seven factors belonging to the unconditioned truth of the path are clarified here, accomplishing the very sense of the three contemplations in a single mind.

The Larger Sūtra says: "Wishing to cultivate the four foundations of mindfulness through every mode at once — the foundations of mindfulness are themselves the dharma-realm, gathering in every dharma; every dharma converges upon the foundations of mindfulness, and this convergence goes no further." The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "It is like the single earth, able to give rise to every kind of sprout." The earth is the seed of every sprout. The Lotus Sūtra says: "Every mark, substance, and nature of every kind is itself already a single mark, substance, and nature. What is meant by this 'single kind'? It is precisely the buddha-seed's own mark, substance, and nature." It is commonly said, "The Lotus Sūtra does not clarify the buddha-nature — the sūtra clarifies only 'a single kind' — what, then, is this single kind?" The manifold kinds of grass, tree, and thicket are a simile for the seven expedient means; the earth's own single kind is the single real matter itself, named "the buddha-seed." Now, a single thought-moment of mind arising inconceivably is itself already every kind at once, the aggregates and entries of the ten dharma-realms in no way obstructing one another. Should one contemplate that the Dharma-nature arises through causes and conditions, then one kind is every kind, and one form is every form. Should the Dharma-nature be empty, then every form is one form, and one emptiness is every emptiness. Since the Dharma-nature is the provisional, one form is every form, one provisional is every provisional. Since the Dharma-nature is the middle, it is neither one nor every, illuminating both the one and the every at once — also named neither empty nor provisional, illuminating both emptiness and the provisional at once — and thus everything, neither empty nor provisional, illuminates both emptiness and the provisional at once. The form of the nine dharma-realms, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, proceeds in exactly the same way. This is named "the foundation of mindfulness of the body."

Should one contemplate the Dharma-nature of feeling: since the Dharma-nature arises through causes and conditions, one kind is every kind, one feeling is every feeling. Since the Dharma-nature of feeling is empty, every feeling is one feeling, one emptiness is every emptiness. Since the Dharma-nature of feeling is a provisional name, one feeling is every feeling, one provisional is every provisional. Since the Dharma-nature of feeling is the middle, it is neither one feeling nor every feeling, neither empty nor provisional, illuminating both emptiness and the provisional at once — and thus everything, neither empty nor provisional, illuminates both emptiness and the provisional at once. The feeling of the nine dharma-realms, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, proceeds in exactly the same way. This is named "the foundation of mindfulness of feeling." Should one contemplate that the Dharma-nature of mind is a dharma arisen through causes and conditions, one kind is every kind, one mind is every mind. Since the Dharma-nature is empty, every mind is one mind, one emptiness is every emptiness. Since the Dharma-nature is the provisional, one mind is every mind, one provisional is every provisional. Since the Dharma-nature is the middle, it is neither one nor every, neither empty nor provisional, illuminating both emptiness and the provisional at once. The mind of the nine dharma-realms proceeds in exactly the same way. This is named "the foundation of mindfulness of mind." Should one contemplate that the two aggregates of perception and formation, as dharmas of the Dharma-nature arisen through causes and conditions — one kind is every kind, one formation is every boundless formation. Since the Dharma-nature is empty, every formation is one formation, one emptiness is every emptiness. Since the Dharma-nature is the provisional, one formation is every formation, one provisional is every provisional. Since the Dharma-nature is the middle, it is neither one nor every, neither empty nor provisional, illuminating both emptiness and the provisional at once — and thus everything, neither empty nor provisional, illuminates both emptiness and the provisional at once. The formations of the nine dharma-realms, every one, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, proceed in exactly the same way. This is named "the foundation of mindfulness of dharmas."

The power and function of these foundations of mindfulness are vast and expansive in this way, their sense embracing both the lesser and greater vehicles at once, breaking through all eight inversions together, revealing both flourishing and withering at once, negating both flourishing and withering at once, entering thereby into parinirvāṇa at their very midpoint — also named "sitting at the seat of enlightenment," also named "the Great Vehicle," also named "the dharma-realm." What, then, is the mark of this sense embracing both at once? The Dharma-nature of form is, in truth, not purity itself, and yet the ordinary being falsely calculates it to be pure — this is named "inversion." It is, in truth, not impurity either, and yet the person of the two lesser vehicles falsely calculates it to be impure — this, too, is named "inversion." Contemplating now that the seed of form is itself empty, and everything is itself empty, within this very emptiness there is no purity at all — how, then, could one become defiled and attached to it? This is named "the ordinary being's inverted calculation of purity broken through, the withering foundation of mindfulness accomplished." The seed of form is itself the provisional, and everything is entirely the provisional; distinguishing its names and marks can never be exhausted; the wisdom of the provisional is constantly pure, never defiled by the taint of unknowing — how, then, could one remain fixed in emptiness, grasping at ashen extinction, and claim that form is impure? This is named "the two lesser vehicles' own inverted calculation of impurity broken through, the flourishing foundation of mindfulness accomplished." This is named "both inversions broken through together, withering and flourishing both established at once." Contemplating the very ultimate boundary of form as neither empty nor provisional, then everything is neither empty nor provisional. Being not empty, it is not the inversion of impurity; being not provisional, it is not the inversion of purity. Not being the inversion of purity, it is thus not the flourishing tree; not being the inversion of impurity, it is thus not the withering tree either. Being neither withering nor flourishing, it is thus neither of the two extremes; being without extreme and without middle, this is precisely named "the very midpoint." The Buddha, converging upon this very principle, is thus named "nirvāṇa," which is likewise neither purity nor impurity. The eight inversions no longer arising is what is named "nirvāṇa"; a nirvāṇa of this kind is named "the secret treasury." Placing every one of his own children within this secret treasury, the Buddha himself abides within it as well — hence it is said, he "enters" it.

The Dharma-nature of feeling is, at root, not bliss itself, and yet the ordinary being falsely calculates it to be bliss — this is named "inversion." It is, in truth, not suffering either, and yet the person of the two lesser vehicles falsely calculates it to be suffering. Contemplating now that the seed of feeling is itself empty, and everything is entirely empty — within this very emptiness there is no bliss at all, so how could defilement possibly arise? This, then, is the ordinary being's own inversion broken through, the withering foundation of mindfulness accomplished. The seed of feeling is itself the provisional, and everything is entirely the provisional, receiving every feeling by way of receiving nothing at all; fame and its discrimination give rise to neither aversion nor fear — how, then, could one abandon them and sink into the ashen extinction of mere emptiness? This is the two lesser vehicles' own inversion broken through, the flourishing foundation of mindfulness accomplished. This is named "both inversions broken through together, withering and flourishing both established at once." Contemplating the very ultimate boundary of feeling as neither empty nor provisional: being not empty, it is not withering; being not provisional, it is not flourishing. The inversion of either extreme no longer arising is what is named "nirvāṇa"; the principle of the very midpoint made manifest is named "the secret treasury" — all exactly as explained above. The Dharma-nature of mind is, at root, not permanence itself, and yet the ordinary being falsely calculates it to be so — this is named "the inversion of permanence"; the Dharma-nature is, in truth, not impermanence either, and yet the two lesser vehicles falsely calculate it to be impermanent. Contemplating now that the seed of mind is itself empty, and everything is itself empty — within this very emptiness there is no permanence at all, so how could mind be said to continue on, thought-moment after thought-moment? This is the ordinary being's own inversion of permanence broken through, the withering foundation of mindfulness accomplished. Mind is itself a provisional name, and everything is entirely provisional; were mind truly impermanent, how could one possibly distinguish its boundless different marks at all? This is named "the two lesser vehicles' own inversion of impermanence broken through, the flourishing foundation of mindfulness accomplished." Further, mind is itself neither empty nor provisional; being not empty, it is not impermanence; being not provisional, it is not permanence either. Neither flourishing nor withering, the inversion of either extreme no longer arising, is named "entering nirvāṇa"; the principle of the middle way made manifest is named "the secret treasury." Placing every one of his own children within it, the Buddha himself, too, enters into the middle. The Dharma-nature of dharmas is, at root, not the possession of a self, and yet the ordinary being falsely calculates it to possess a self. It is, at root, not the absence of a self either, and yet the two lesser vehicles falsely calculate it to lack a self. Contemplating now that the Dharma-nature is itself empty, and everything is itself empty — within this very emptiness there is no self at all — this is named "the ordinary being's own inversion broken through, the withering foundation of mindfulness accomplished." The Dharma-nature is itself the provisional, and everything is entirely a provisional construction, free and unfixed, the very sense of "self" complete within it — this is named "the two lesser vehicles' own inversion broken through, the flourishing foundation of mindfulness accomplished." Contemplating the very ultimate boundary of dharmas as neither empty nor provisional: being not empty, it is not the absence of self; being not provisional, it is not the possession of self either. The inversion of either extreme no longer arising is named "entering nirvāṇa"; the principle of the very midpoint made manifest is named "the secret treasury." The dharma-medicine that cures inversion comes, in number, to four; the contemplative wisdom of the Dharma-nature is what is named "mindfulness"; the one truth and the three truths together are what is named "the foundation." Everything at once empty, every inversion, whether flourishing or withering, is nowhere not empty and quiescent; everything at once the provisional, the twin trees of both extremes are nowhere not fully established; everything at once the middle, nothing whatsoever is other than the dharma-realm itself. It is simply a single thought-moment of mind, vast and far-reaching to exactly this degree. Should one be able to contemplate the foundations of mindfulness this deeply, this is itself sitting at the seat of enlightenment, is itself the Great Vehicle, is itself entering parinirvāṇa between the twin trees — complete, beginning to end, in itself, requiring no further cultivation of any other dharma at all.

Should one not yet enter thereby, one further cultivates the remaining branches. Diligently contemplating the foundations of mindfulness is named "the four right efforts." The original arising of view and habituated thought is named "evil already arisen"; contemplating this as itself empty causes what has already arisen to become unborn, and this is diligent effort. Dust-and-sand and ignorance are named "evil not yet arisen"; contemplating these as at once the provisional and the middle causes what has not yet arisen to remain unborn, and this too is diligent effort. Exhausting one's strength and sincerity in full, one carries out the four samādhis, warding off these two evils. Omniscience is named "wholesomeness already arisen" — this wholesomeness is easily brought forth, and hence it is said, "the path to nirvāṇa is easily attained." The wisdom of the path in every kind, and the wisdom of all modes, are named "wholesomeness not yet arisen" — this discerning wisdom is difficult to bring forth. The wisdom of emptiness, already arisen, one diligently increases further; the wisdom of the middle, not yet arisen, one causes to be opened and brought forth. The three contemplations, without interruption, exist for the sole purpose of bringing forth these two wisdoms. These four right efforts are likewise able to bring about awakening, hence it is said, "through diligent effort with a single mind, the threefold bodhi is attained" — requiring no further dharma at all. Should one not yet enter thereby, this is because one's diligence is lacking, the mind excessively scattered and agitated — one must enter into wholesome quiescence, examining and contemplating the mind's own nature, named "the higher concentration." Within this higher concentration, one cultivates the four bases of supernormal power: aspiration, diligence, mind, and reflection. Aspiration means turning wholly toward that very dharma, also named "adorning that very dharma." The contemplative wisdom within concentration is like a lamp within a sealed chamber, illuminating whatever it touches with perfect clarity — and by virtue of this very clarity, the cutting-off practice is accomplished, cultivating the base of supernormal power. Diligence means bringing that very dharma to accomplishment. The Dharma-nature, unmoving and yet quiescently diligent, without interruption, without admixture — the cutting-off practice is accomplished, cultivating the base of supernormal power. Mind means abiding correctly, observing that very dharma, its object gathered within a single mind. Fixing it in a single place, there is nothing whatsoever left unaccomplished — the cutting-off practice is accomplished, cultivating the base of supernormal power. Reflection means being skillfully able to distinguish that very dharma's own skillful means. Reflecting in this way, one does not allow the mind to become agitated or scattered — through this concentrated reflection, the cutting-off practice is accomplished, cultivating the base of supernormal power. Able to cultivate in this way, entering with a concentrated mind, no further dharma at all is needed.

Should one not yet enter thereby, one ought to cultivate the five faculties. Believing that the principle of the three truths is the mother of the buddhas across all three times, able to give rise to every one of the ten powers, the fearlessnesses, liberation, and samādhi — simply cultivating the foundations of mindfulness, seeking no other dharma — this is named "the faculty of faith." Diligence means gathering in every dharma by means of faith; because one believes in every dharma, one redoubles one's own diligent effort. Mindfulness means simply bearing in mind the correct path and its auxiliary supports, never allowing deviance or falseness to enter in; and, since this very dharma is cultivated by diligence, and this dharma is never forgotten, it is named "the faculty of mindfulness." Concentration means a single mind, quiescent and settled, carrying out diligent effort; and, since this very dharma is gathered in by mindfulness, and this dharma is never forgotten, never disturbed, it is named "the faculty of concentration." Wisdom means the wisdom belonging to the foundations of mindfulness, gathered in by the dharma of concentration, its own inward nature self-illuminating, known not through any other — this is named "the faculty of wisdom." Simply cultivating these five faculties is, likewise, already able to enter the path and accomplish the Great Vehicle. Should one not yet enter thereby, one advances to cultivate the five powers, causing the faculties to grow in strength, warding off every affliction — this is what is named "power." Faith breaks through every doubt, so that nothing at all is able to shake it. Diligence removes laziness, so that whatever one has originally vowed is, every bit of it, brought to accomplishment. Mindfulness breaks through deviant thought, so that one is never destroyed by affliction. Concentration breaks through scattered distraction, remaining far removed from noise and confusion. Though something is being spoken, this does not obstruct the first dhyāna; skillfully abiding in reflection and examination does not obstruct the second dhyāna; the mind giving rise to joy does not obstruct the third dhyāna; and transforming sentient beings does not obstruct the fourth dhyāna. Obstructing the dharma of the four dhyānas does not obstruct any of the other concentrations, and one neither abandons concentration nor follows blindly after it — this is named "the power of concentration." Wisdom breaks through deviant attachment, every attachment and every wisdom alike illuminated together and complete — this is named "the power of wisdom." Powers of this kind, five in all, are named "the Great Vehicle." Should one not yet enter thereby, one applies the seven factors of awakening to bring balance. When the mind grows agitated and unsettled, one uses the factor of removal to remove the coarseness of body and speech; the factor of relinquishment to relinquish attachment to the very contemplative wisdom itself; and the factor of concentration to enter dhyāna. When the mind grows sunken and dull, one uses the factors of diligence, discrimination, and joy to rouse it. The factor of mindfulness pervades both conditions at once. Cultivating these seven factors of awakening, one thereby enters the path directly. The Great Treatise says: "Should one, apart from the five hindrances, cultivate the seven factors of awakening exclusively, and still fail to enter thereby — this is simply impossible." Should one not yet enter thereby, one cultivates the eightfold path. Applying, further, the supreme supramundane correct view to contemplate the principle of the three truths, one uses correct thought to rouse and set this contemplation into motion. Explaining it as the mark of the dharma, benefiting both oneself and others, this is precisely correct speech. Should black karma bring a black retribution, white karma a white retribution, mixed karma a mixed retribution, and karma that is neither white nor black a retribution that is neither white nor black — this is readily understood with reference to the Hīnayāna. Here, it is said instead that sinking into emptiness is black karma; emerging into the provisional is white karma; embracing both together is mixed karma; and the middle way is karma that is neither white nor black — every one of these, misapplied, is named "deviant livelihood." Should this karma itself be able to exhaust karma, this is named "correct action"; carrying this out in practice is named "correct action." Correct action is not dragged along by either extreme. Seeing another attain some benefit, the mind is not vexed or inflamed by it; and, with respect to one's own benefit, one constantly knows when to stop and be content — this is "correct livelihood." Skillfully entering the correct truth is named "correct diligence." The mind neither wavering nor forgetting, upright and unforgetting, is named "correct mindfulness." Correctly abiding in resolute settledness is named "correct concentration." Through this very eightfold path, one thereby enters principle directly. The Great Sūtra says: "Should there be one able to cultivate the eightfold path, he thereby attains the very ghee itself." Branches of the path explained in this way are not merely mapped against a fixed stage, but, cultivated at the very first thought, are already complete in full.

The Great Treatise says: "Among the four foundations of mindfulness, the four kinds of diligence are named 'the four right efforts'; the four kinds of concentrated mind are named 'the four bases of supernormal power'; the arising of the five wholesome roots is named 'the faculties'; their growth in strength is named 'the powers'; distinguishing the four foundations of mindfulness' own function of the path is named 'the awakening-factors'; and proceeding along the calm and settled path of the four foundations of mindfulness is named 'the eightfold path.'" One should therefore know that the beginning practitioner, cultivating the path, uses these thirty-seven factors to nourish and cultivate the four kinds of samādhi within calming-and-contemplation, thereby entering the bodhisattva's own stage. Branches of the path in this sense are the near cause of the great nirvāṇa; every other branch of the path is named its distant cause. Here, then, a simile is offered to reveal this very sense: planting a seed in the earth, its sprout-tip first opens, sending its root downward, spreading its branches and leaves upward, its flower unfolding in bloom, and finally bearing fruit to full ripeness. The Dharma-nature and the dharma-realm are the great earth; the contemplation of the foundations of mindfulness is the seed itself; the four right efforts are like the sprout pushing forth; the five faculties are like the root taking hold; the five powers are like the stem and leaves growing in strength; the seven factors of awakening are like the flower opening in bloom; and the eightfold path is like the fruit finally born. This bearing of fruit is precisely entering the bronze-wheel stage, realizing the forbearance of the unborn — also named "arriving at the treasure-place," also named "entering the secret treasury," also named "attaining the ghee itself," also named "seeing the buddha-nature directly," also named "the Dharma-body manifest, the eight aspects accomplishing buddhahood." "The branches of the path are one's own good spiritual friend, and it is through them that correct awakening is accomplished" — this is exactly that same sense. As for the common explanation of the tree of the path: as the Larger Sūtra clarifies, leaving behind the three evil destinies is named "the benefit of the leaf"; attaining a human or heavenly body is named "the benefit of the flower"; and attaining the fruit of the fourfold path is named "the benefit of the fruit" — this explanation, however, is one-sidedly given in terms of emptiness alone. Escaping the ground of the two lesser vehicles is the benefit of the leaf; attaining a body of transformative spiritual power is the benefit of the flower; and being complete with the wisdom of the path in every kind is the benefit of the fruit — this explanation is one-sidedly given in terms of the provisional alone. Escaping the bondage of both extremes is the benefit of the leaf; receiving the Dharma-nature body is the benefit of the flower; and directly realizing the buddha-nature is the benefit of the fruit — this explanation is one-sidedly given in terms of the middle alone. Should one instead take this together, in terms of all three contemplations at once: emptiness itself is named "the benefit of the leaf"; the provisional itself is named "the benefit of the flower"; and the middle itself is named "the benefit of the fruit."

Furthermore, practicing the thirty-seven branches of the path brings one to the city of the uncontaminated. This domain has three gates, and should one enter through any of these gates, the real is thereby brought forth directly — namely, the gates of emptiness, marklessness, and wishlessness, also named "the three gates of liberation," also named "the three samādhis." Should one enter concentration by way of correct view and correct thought, and, from within that concentration, bring forth the uncontaminated, then, at that point, the wisdom of correct view is named "the minister," and correct concentration is named "the sovereign" — taking its name from this, it is named "the three samādhis." "Without wisdom, there is no dhyāna" is exactly this same sense. Should correct view instead be born from correct concentration, and, from within correct view, the uncontaminated be brought forth, then, at that point, correct concentration is the minister, and wisdom is the sovereign — taking its name from this, it is named "the three liberations." "Without dhyāna, there is no wisdom" is exactly this same sense. One might, further, say that samādhi is the path of subduing, while liberation is the path of severance and the path of realization; or one might say that, since concentration and wisdom are united, samādhi is itself already liberation, and liberation is itself already samādhi. According to the Tripiṭaka teaching: beneath suffering, emptiness and no-self are the gate of emptiness; beneath cessation, the four aspects are the gate of marklessness; beneath the path and beneath origin, the eight aspects, and beneath suffering, the remaining two aspects, are the gate of wishlessness. These sixteen aspects, sovereign and minister together, proceed accordingly.

According to the shared teaching: clarifying that suffering and its origin are, every one, like illusion and transformation, is itself already the gate of emptiness. The old edition of the Treatise reads: "Should one contemplate the most subtle particle of form, there are eighteen kinds of emptiness"; the current edition reads: "Should one contemplate a single length of felt cloth, there are eighteen kinds of emptiness." Felt cloth is a provisional name, while the subtlest particle is a real dharma — this is the difference between the two editions. Should one truly grasp the sense of it, both the provisional and the real are alike empty. Should one not yet have entered emptiness, sentiment and imagination still spin idle discourse, calculating that there is a mark of emptiness itself; knowing that emptiness has no mark of emptiness at all is named "the gate of marklessness." Though the mark of emptiness is itself empty, one may still calculate upon the very contemplative wisdom involved — but since there is neither a contemplating subject nor a contemplated object at all, who, then, is it that performs this contemplation of emptiness? This is named "the gate of wishlessness" — for since there is no doer at all, who is it that could give rise to any wish or seeking? This, too, is named "no wish." These are the three samādhis, sovereign and minister together, and so on accordingly. According to the distinct teaching: clarifying entering emptiness from the provisional to realize the real truth is named "the emptiness samādhi." The two lesser vehicles realize only this emptiness alone, and still retain the mark of emptiness; the bodhisattva, knowing that emptiness is not merely emptiness, emerges into the provisional to transform beings, with no further mark of emptiness remaining at all — this is named "the markless samādhi"; advancing further to cultivate the middle way, with no mark of either extreme, and seeking neither extreme either, is named "the wishless samādhi." These are the three contemplative wisdoms, sovereign and minister together, and so on accordingly. Furthermore, discussed specifically in terms of the intent of emerging into the provisional: distinguishing boundless medicines and illnesses, all of them are merely provisional names; a provisional name has no reality, and, being without reality, is empty — this is named "the gate of emptiness." Emptiness itself has not even a mark of emptiness — how much less, then, a mark of the provisional? Hence it is named "the gate of marklessness." Neither emptiness nor the provisional bearing any mark, one wishes and seeks nothing at all, not even to know illness or identify medicine — hence it is named "no wish." These are the wisdom of emerging into the provisional, sovereign and minister together, and so on accordingly. As for the perfect teaching's own specific account: though the names are the same as before, the sense and meaning differ enormously. The Great Treatise says: "The śrāvaka, taking emptiness as the object, cultivates the three liberations; the bodhisattva, taking the true mark of every dharma as the object, cultivates the three liberations." The wise see both emptiness and not-emptiness at once, and this emptiness-and-not-emptiness together is also named "the middle way." Seeing this very emptiness, one thereby sees the buddha-nature directly.

Further, the two lesser vehicles contemplate the eighteen matters found within a dream: what is internal within the dream cannot be found, named "the emptiness of internal dharmas"; what is external within the dream cannot be found, named "the emptiness of external dharmas"; and so on, all the way through, the eighteen kinds of existence within the dream cannot be found, named "the eighteen kinds of emptiness." Here, the perfect teaching contemplates that the very dharma of sleep itself cannot be found — there being no internal dharma, every internal dharma born from sleep likewise cannot be found, named "the emptiness of internal dharmas"; and every dharma converges upon this very internal emptiness. Sleep having no external dharma, every external dharma born from sleep cannot be found, this being "the emptiness of external dharmas"; and every dharma converges upon this very external emptiness. And so on, all the way through, the eighteen kinds of existence within the very dharma of sleep cannot be found, named "the eighteen kinds of emptiness"; every dharma converges upon these eighteen kinds of emptiness, traversing all eighteen conditions — named "the eighteen kinds of emptiness," and yet this is, in truth, but a single emptiness. The Vaipulya sūtras say: "The great emptiness and the lesser emptiness alike converge upon a single emptiness." This single emptiness is precisely the Dharma-nature, true reality itself, the real dharma of every buddha. The Larger Sūtra calls this "the sole emptiness." As explained before, contemplating ignorance through the four propositions, it cannot be found — one emptiness is every emptiness, and one no longer even sees the mark of the four gates' own separate distinctions, neither conditioned nor real, with no one at all who performs it. Sovereign and minister, and so on accordingly. Emptiness of this kind is itself already marklessness, wishlessness, and every other dharma as well; and every other dharma proceeds in exactly the same way. One should therefore know that a single gate of liberation is itself already the three gates of liberation; and the three gates of liberation are themselves already a single gate. Further, within all four teaching-gates, the three liberations are, every one, cultivated, mutually without any obstruction whatsoever. These three gates, in this sense, are not sequential at all. The distinct teaching's own account, though sequential, still, in every case, takes true reality as its object. This, further, differs from the shared teaching, which takes the principle of emptiness alone as its object; and differs, further still, from the Tripiṭaka teaching, which takes the wisdom of the Four Noble Truths as its object. One should therefore know that the three liberations, and the branches of the path as well, differ from one another at every single point, and this must be discerned with great care.

Further, the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, like the sun rising and first illuminating the high mountains, leans heavily toward the four "flourishing" inversions; the Tripiṭaka teaching of the Deer Park leans heavily toward the four "withering" inversions; the Vaipulya and Prajñāpāramitā sūtras, for the most part, temper the withering to bring it toward flourishing, drawing the lesser vehicle toward the greater; and the teaching given beneath the crane-forest, its transformative work already complete, enters nirvāṇa at the very midpoint between withering and flourishing. For those of the very dullest capacity, most difficult to transform, only upon arriving at the twin trees is the work finally brought to completion. Those of sharp capacity, clearly awakened, gain entry everywhere along the way. Thus Śāriputra and the rest, within the Lotus Sūtra, enter the secret treasury and directly see the buddha-nature. This is exactly why the Nirvāṇa Sūtra points, from afar, to the eight thousand śrāvakas who, within the Lotus Sūtra, already received the prediction of buddhahood — like the autumn harvest gathered and stored away for winter, with nothing further left to be done. Reckoned in terms of this one round of teaching, the work was already completed early, without needing to wait for the nirvāṇa teaching at all. It is further said, "Who is able to adorn the twin śāla trees?" — citing Śāriputra and five others by name, and separately citing the Tathāgata himself. Should one see the buddha-nature, one is thereby able to adorn the twin trees, entering nirvāṇa at their very midpoint. Since Śāriputra and these five others were indeed able to adorn them, how could they have failed to see the buddha-nature, entering nirvāṇa at that very midpoint? If this holds even for the śrāvakas, then it holds, correspondingly, for the bodhisattvas as well, gaining entry everywhere along the way — the sense of this may be readily understood. Entering nirvāṇa in this way, one accomplishes the fivefold liberation — neither identical with the six dharmas, nor separate from the six dharmas — this is precisely the sense of the three buddha-natures.

Seventh, auxiliary remedies: the Treatise says, "The three samādhis serve as the very root of every samādhi." Should one enter these three samādhis, one is thereby able to accomplish the four kinds of samādhi. For one of sharp capacity and no hindrance, entry into the cool, refreshing pond is easy, and no remedy is needed at all. For one of sharp capacity with some hindrance, simply concentrating on the three gates of liberation is enough, since the hindrance is unable to obstruct — and here, too, no auxiliary remedy is needed. For one of dull capacity but no hindrance, simply applying the cultivation and regulation of the branches of the path is enough to transform dullness into sharpness — and here, too, no auxiliary remedy is needed. But for one of dull capacity and heavy hindrance, precisely because his capacity is dull, he is unable to open the three gates of liberation directly; and precisely because his hindrance is heavy, it drags down and breaks apart his own contemplative mind. For this very reason, one must apply a remedial path to break through this hindrance directly, and only then can one safely and securely enter the three gates of liberation. The Treatise names such remedies "the dharma that helps open the gate" — this is exactly that same sense. Now, even the sage of the first fruit, though his uncontaminated faculty is sharp and his seeing of principle clear, still retains some phenomenal affliction as a hindrance, and is thus not yet named "a good person." The once-returner, having eroded away the five lower fetters, is likewise not yet "a good person" — though not yet "a good person," he is, in truth, no longer an ordinary being either. Should one sever affliction merely through mundane wisdom, though free of phenomenal hindrance, one is, in truth, not yet a sage at all. If even these two cases still require an auxiliary path, how much more so, then, one of dull capacity and heavy hindrance who fails to cultivate any remedy at all — how could he possibly enter the gate? Auxiliary remedies are boundless in number; within the sense of blockage and passage discussed earlier, in terms of the six coverings, hindrance was already clarified, and it is fitting to use the six pāramitās as the remedy, discussed here as the auxiliary path.

Should a person cultivating the four samādhis, having already regulated the branches of the path, find that liberation still fails to open while stinginess and craving suddenly arise, stirring and disturbing the contemplating mind, guarding and clinging to body, life, and property — or should craving's own thought and conditioned imagination give rise to a sudden desire, and, though one applies deliberate effort to check it, stinginess and craving only arise all the more — at such a time, one ought to apply giving and relinquishment as the remedy. Should a mind that breaks the precepts suddenly arise while cultivating samādhi, one's own deportment growing coarse and unrestrained, no longer holding to any discipline, body and speech at odds with one another, violating every regulation — the purity of one's own restraint no longer intact, samādhi becomes difficult to bring forth. At such a time, one ought to apply the precepts as the remedy. Should anger and rage arise while cultivating samādhi, constantly giving rise to resentment and hatred, harsh speech and slander, disputing over right and wrong — this very poison obstructs samādhi itself. At such a time, one ought to cultivate patience as the remedy. Should laxity and laziness arise while cultivating samādhi, indulging body, speech, and mind, dissolute and unrestrained, without any sense of shame before oneself or before others, unable to bear even the slightest discipline — like striking flint that never grows hot before one gives up again and again — a person absorbed in mere activity cannot even manage worldly affairs, how much less the very gate of samādhi? At such a time, one ought to apply diligence as the remedy. Should scattered distraction and instability arise while cultivating samādhi, the body like a lone falling leaf, the mouth like a spring frog's constant croaking, the mind like a lamp flickering in the wind — because of this very scattering and dissipation, the dharma fails to manifest before one. At such a time, one ought to apply meditative concentration as the remedy. Should foolish delusion and confusion arise while cultivating samādhi, calculating and clinging to either annihilation or eternalism, claiming there to be a person, a self, a sentient being, a life-span — meeting every matter as though facing a blank wall, one's advance and retreat always falling short, never meeting what is actually called for, one's own thought clumsy and dull, lacking any trace of sharp discernment — at such a time, one ought to apply wisdom as the remedy. Every one of these coverings of the mind, too, comes in both a thicker and a thinner form: in the thinner form, the mind alone is stirred, without body or speech necessarily being stirred as well; in the thicker form, body and speech are stirred, and the mind is necessarily stirred first of all. Once the inward illness has grown strong, its own mark manifests outwardly. Should the direct antidote succeed in removing it, this is exactly the illness it was suited for; but should the antidote fail to remove it, one should then rely on the four modes of adaptation, turning the remedy in a different direction to assist the path instead. Thus, in treating a single instance of stinginess: one may find delight in cultivating giving, or one may not find delight in it; a wholesome mind may arise, or it may not arise; cultivating giving may break through stinginess, or it may not break through it; cultivating giving may help open the way, or it may not open it. One should skillfully weigh and judge accordingly — whether by direct antidote, by turning it in a different direction, by combining approaches, or by the ultimate meaning itself. Cultivating every other remedy proceeds in exactly the same way. With respect to assisting through the six pāramitās, understanding this merely as a single, isolated matter cannot actually assist the path at all — one must contemplate that this very assistance is itself inconceivable, gathering in every dharma without exception, as explained further below.

It has been claimed that "speaking of six pāramitās is the shared teaching, while speaking of ten is the shared teaching's own fuller doctrine" — but this cannot be right. The Great Sūtra clarifies that "the six pāramitās are themselves the buddha-nature"; the Larger Sūtra says they are "the Great Vehicle itself." If a single pāramitā already gathers in every dharma, how much more so, then, the full six? Grasping the sense of opening and gathering, there is nothing here to prefer or reject. Thus dhyāna contains vow, wisdom, and power, opened out further as the pāramitā of stilling the sediment; and it contains spiritual power, opened out further as the pāramitā of purification — while the pāramitā of dhyāna itself still holds its own settled ground. Prajñā contains the wisdom of the path in every kind, opened out as skillful strategy; and it contains the wisdom of all modes, opened out as the pāramitā of true knowledge — while all-encompassing wisdom itself still holds to its own root, receiving the name of "prajñā." Separated out, this becomes ten; gathered together, this becomes six — how, then, could breadth or brevity alone be used to judge which is the greater vehicle and which the lesser? Here, then, it is clarified that the six pāramitās, as the auxiliary path, gather in every dharma entirely — briefly clarifying how they gather in every branch of the path, the regulation of the six faculties, the ten powers, the four fearlessnesses, the eighteen dharmas not shared with others, the six spiritual powers, the three insights, the four modes of embrace, the four unimpeded eloquences, the dhāraṇīs, the thirty-two marks, the eighty subsidiary excellent features, and every other dharma as well. How, then, do they gather in every branch of the path? Within every branch of the path there is, in each case, the awakening-factor of relinquishment, which is precisely what giving gathers in. Even in the Tripiṭaka teaching's own awakening-factor of relinquishment, though it does not yet enter principle directly, it is still the relinquishing of body, life, and property. The Treatise says: "Loving-kindness, compassion, and sympathetic joy already benefit sentient beings — what further benefit does relinquishment bring?" Relinquishment is able to bring the six pāramitās to completion, broadly benefiting sentient beings — this is named "the great benefit." Relinquishment, further, is like refined oil, able to increase the light of the remaining five pāramitās. One should therefore know that the pāramitā of giving gathers in the awakening-factor of relinquishment. In the shared teaching's own awakening-factor of relinquishment, relinquishing body, life, and property as though illusion, as though transformation, all three matters being alike empty — this awakening-factor of relinquishment, too, is gathered in by the pāramitā of giving. In the distinct teaching's own awakening-factor of relinquishment, relinquishing the very unknowing found within body, life, and property — this relinquishment, too, is gathered in by the pāramitā of giving. In the perfect teaching's own awakening-factor of relinquishment, relinquishing the physical body of the ten dharma-realms, relinquishing the life that sustains and connects the ten dharma-realms, relinquishing the dependent retribution of the ten dharma-realms — body, life, and property of this kind enter neither of the two extremes at all. Why is this? "Property" is named "the six sense-objects" — should one calculate that the six sense-objects can be relinquished, with a recipient present to receive them and one's own person able to give them, a giving of this kind falls into the extreme of the six sense-objects' own existence; and should all three matters be considered alike empty, this instead falls into the extreme of nonexistence. Contemplating now that property is itself empty, one does not fall into existence; contemplating that property is itself the provisional, one does not fall into emptiness. A relinquishment free of this duality is equal to the very final boundary of birth-and-death, free of old age, illness, and death, attaining the unbroken and constant abiding. The extreme of existence is birth-and-death, belonging to the prior boundary; the extreme of emptiness is nirvāṇa, belonging to the final boundary. Both of these being alike empty, neither can ever be found at all — hence they are named "equal." As for being "free" of old age and death: the prior boundary being empty, one is free of segmented old age and death; the final boundary being empty, one is free of transformational old age and death; both kinds of death permanently escaped, this is exactly why it is said to be "free." As for "attaining the unbroken and constant abiding": this is precisely the Dharma-nature of the middle way, the very teacher of every buddha; because the Dharma is constant, every buddha, too, is constant. This constantly abiding property cannot be destroyed by anything at all; this constantly abiding body cannot be bound by anything at all; this constantly abiding life cannot be severed or extinguished by anything at all — accomplishing the ultimate perfection of giving, adorning oneself with it. Hence the Diamond Prajñā Sūtra says: "Giving away, in the morning, at midday, and in the evening, bodies as numerous as the sands of the Ganges — this still does not equal receiving and upholding a single four-line verse of prajñā." One should therefore know that the perfect relinquishment of contemplative principle is exactly what accords with the branches of the path, gathered in by the pāramitā of giving.

This account of the awakening-factor of relinquishment through the branches of the path, though profound and subtle in contemplative principle, does not by itself preserve any actual practice; within the Tripiṭaka teaching, by contrast, phenomenal giving is heroic and fierce — gouging out one's own eye for a lamp, exchanging oneself to redeem another, giving away kingdom, city, wife, and child — and yet its own contemplative principle contains not the slightest trace of insight. Both approaches, taken alone, have their fault. Here, then, it is clarified that phenomenal giving assists in breaking through the covering of stinginess, advancing to bring contemplative principle to completion — how, then, could the two ever be separated? Should a person understand the contemplation of true reality's own perfect relinquishment in theory alone, yet, laying hand to chest, discuss only practice in the abstract while, in actual phenomenal affairs, remaining stingy and grasping — guarding his own property without relinquishing so much as a hair's breadth of it, shirking hardship, tallying up his own strength and effort, unable to bend himself to benefit another, cherishing his own life so dearly that he could never contend for another's death by yielding his own life instead — clinging to every matter he touches, unmoving as struck bronze, understanding alone but never practicing — how could a heavy covering of this kind ever be broken through? How could the three gates of liberation ever be opened at all? Now, at the place of practice, repenting with painstaking sincerity, giving rise to a resolute mind and raising a great vow, one relinquishes body, life, and property with utterly no regret at all. Carrying out this very giving oneself, and further teaching it to others, praising the dharma of giving, and rejoicing in those who give — having established this vow, one invokes the buddhas of the ten directions as witness and as rescue. Should the mind be genuinely sincere, free of all deceit, one is able to move the Tathāgata to emit the very light of giving, illuminating and removing the covering of stinginess — as explained in the Sūtra of Excellent Golden Light and elsewhere. Receiving this very light, one thereby corresponds with the awakening-factor of relinquishment found within every branch of the path, and this must be explained out, point by point. Phenomenal practice and contemplative principle both perfected, one is able to relinquish giving to the very ultimate — property treated like dung and dirt, body compared to a poisonous vessel, life like a passing cloud, casting all three away like spittle. The obstruction of stinginess thereby broken, the sense of the remedial path is accomplished, and liberation is thereby attained. Even should there be no immediate cause or condition for it, one still relies on it in carrying out the path; and should benefit indeed arise, one relinquishes it as easily as casting away a mustard seed. This is the oil of phenomenal practice assisting and increasing the brightness of the path, opening the three gates of liberation, and thereby seeing the buddha-nature directly. Should one fail to do this, there is no benefit of assistance and remedy at all. Should one cultivate exactly as explained above, one ought thereby to attain awakening; but should one fail to awaken even so, one ought to reflect that the contemplative principle of the branches of the path contains correct action, correct speech, and correct livelihood, and these belong to what the precepts gather in. In the Tripiṭaka teaching's own account of correct action and the rest, this is precisely careful guarding of one's own deportment, unbroken, undiminished, unperforated, unmixed. In the shared teaching's own account, correct action and the rest do not fix upon body or speech at all, but are true precisely within phenomenal action itself — this is precisely the precept that accords with the path, free of attachment. In the distinct teaching's own account, correct action and the rest are precisely the precept praised by the wise, self-mastering. In the perfect teaching's own account, correct action and the rest all contemplate the Dharma-nature directly, this being precisely the precept complete in every respect. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "One who is able to do this is named one who upholds the discipline" — this is exactly that same sense. The precept of contemplative principle is already complete within the mind itself; and yet, though one may understand this, body and speech still frequently fall short of it. Whether because of coarseness and lack of restraint in this present life, or because of hindrances from a former life not yet repented of, this covers over one's own samādhi, and the gate of liberation fails to open. Reflecting on this matter, one ought to feel deep grief and compassion for oneself, and give rise to profound reform: from this very day, one severs the continuing mind of transgression, vowing to uphold the precepts without the slightest flaw, guarding and cherishing them as one would guard a floating bladder crossing the sea, never once giving up the precepts merely to preserve one's own body intact. The poison-dragon surrendered his own skin to spare the ants; King Sudāna lost his own kingdom yet gained the verse. Upholding the precepts oneself, and transforming others by it, praising the Dharma and praising those who uphold it, one's great vow unmoving, one invokes the Buddha's own name as witness and as rescue. Should the mind be genuinely sincere, one moves the Buddha to emit the very light of pure precepts, so that, at the very moment this light of pure precepts touches one who has broken the precepts, the offenses of both this life and the last are extinguished, thereby corresponding with the correct action of contemplative principle — and this, too, must be explained out, point by point. Phenomenal practice and contemplative principle both perfected, upholding the precepts to the very ultimate, one enters the three gates of liberation and sees the buddha-nature directly. This is named "the oil that assists and increases the brightness of the path."

Should one, having cultivated the precepts as described above, still fail to enter thereby, one ought further to reflect that within every one of these branches of the path there is, in each case, the faculty of mindfulness, the power of mindfulness, the awakening-factor of mindfulness, and correct mindfulness — and these are exactly the sense of patience, gathered in by the pāramitā of patience. In the Tripiṭaka teaching's own account, correct mindfulness and the rest are the forbearance of subduing. In the shared teaching's own account, they are the forbearance of gentle compliance. In the distinct teaching's own account, they are the forbearance of the unborn. In the perfect teaching's own account, they are the forbearance of quiescent cessation. Should a person's own power of mindfulness be firm and strong, the very bandit of anger cannot gain entry at all. Yet should it gain entry nonetheless, this is either because mindfulness was altogether absent, or because mindfulness was too weak, and the covering of anger was thereby able to arise. It may arise in this very life, or it may arise from a former life; it may be anger toward a companion in practice or an outward protector; it may be anger at some present matter, or the pursuit of some old resentment recalled from the past; it may begin trivially, or it may begin already at full intensity. Should one indulge this very poison of anger unchecked, it overturns and sweeps away everything without remainder, and, unable to master oneself, one becomes like a snake biting its own body. Anger obstructs a hundred thousand Dharma-gates — how, then, could one possibly indulge it without rebuking it directly? One should know that merely having a theoretical understanding is not yet having the actual power of patience. Having recognized this, one gives rise to profound remorse and raises a great vow: as low as the rivers and seas, into which every defilement flows; as yielding as a bridge, trodden underfoot by every person and horse that crosses it. One ought to endure hardship, like a target absorbing every arrow shot at it, without resentment, without complaint. Like Pūrṇa, who, when reviled, rejoiced at having merely escaped a slap of the hand; and, even when struck by a blade, rejoiced at his own swift extinction. One who bears such affliction without any fault of his own finds his own power of patience only growing stronger, like gold polished, like a mirror ground smooth. The patience-sage Kṣāntivādin remained at peace whether treated harshly or gently. Cultivating patience oneself, and transforming others by it, praising the Dharma and praising those who practice it, one's great vow unmoving, one invokes the buddhas of the ten directions as witness and as rescue. The Buddha emits the very light of patience, and the grave offense of anger's own obstruction across both this life and the last is dissolved, thereby corresponding with every mindfulness of both phenomenal practice and contemplative principle, the power of patience accomplished amid every adverse circumstance. This is the oil of phenomenal practice assisting and increasing the brightness of the path.

Should one still fail to enter thereby, having cultivated exactly as described above, one ought further to reflect that each of the four branches of the path has its own eightfold diligence, gathered in by the pāramitā of diligence. The Great Treatise says: "The first three are easily accomplished, requiring no special diligence; the last two are difficult to accomplish, and absolutely require diligence." Through diligence, the threefold bodhi is attained. When Ānanda spoke of the awakening-factor of diligence, the Buddha immediately rose and sat upright. It is like a great act of bailing out the ocean itself — only then can one truly correspond with it. Yet, at present, one is lax and indulgent, reclining idly, dissolute and slack, having forgotten one's own original resolve, with no diligent strength remaining at all — though present at the place of practice, one's mind is mixed with every manner of evil thought, and this is named "defilement"; each day falling short of the day before, this is named "regression." Regression is thus not advancement; defilement is thus not diligence — how, then, could one ever accord with principle at all? Whether from laziness in a former life, offense and hindrance covering the mind, one is like a bull led by a nose without any ring at all, deranged and drunken, wandering off in every direction. Failing to master oneself and compete against time throughout the first, middle, and final watches of the night, one only continues to procrastinate, letting the days and months slip idly by. One ought, then, to raise a vow, engraving it upon one's very bones, entrusting body and life to the path itself, placing death ahead and pressing forward regardless. Across countless kalpas one has vainly cherished and protected oneself — now, seeking samādhi, one ought resolutely to relinquish this. Rebuking one's own past faults through the night as through the day, carrying out the practice without laxity, holding the body upright, with no further sense of difficulty or hardship remaining. Even should illness or affliction arise, one does not regard it as any trouble at all — not resting content within a single lifetime, not ceasing even across kalpa after kalpa. Diligent oneself, and transforming others by it, praising the Dharma and praising those who practice it, one invokes the buddhas of the ten directions as witness and as rescue. Moving the Buddha to emit the very light of diligence, one is thereby able to correspond with the eightfold diligence of contemplative principle. Should this correspond with the Tripiṭaka teaching, it accomplishes generation-generating diligence; corresponding with the shared teaching, it accomplishes generation-into-non-generation diligence; corresponding with the distinct teaching, it accomplishes non-generation-generating diligence; corresponding with the perfect teaching, it accomplishes non-generation-non-generation firm and resolute diligence. Opening the gate of nirvāṇa, one sees the buddha-nature directly. This is the oil of phenomenal practice assisting and increasing the brightness of contemplation. Diligence has both a general substance and an enumerated substance, and so on accordingly.

Should one still fail to attain awakening, having cultivated exactly as described above, one ought to reflect that the contemplative principle of the branches of the path each has its own eightfold concentration, gathered in by the pāramitā of dhyāna. Yet this may be understanding alone, without any genuine realization actually attained; though one speaks of the fundamental dhyānas, phenomenal concentration itself fails to form; and even speaking of the unconditioned concentration, the Śūraṅgama samādhi itself fails to be accomplished. Lacking concentration, one falls even on level ground; or, scattered and agitated across this life and the next, samādhi never opens. For this very reason, with a single mind resolved upon the fruit, body upright and mind quiescent throughout the first, middle, and final watches of the night, should weariness, distress, or deviant thought arise, one swiftly extinguishes it. Cultivating dhyāna oneself, and teaching it to others, praising the Dharma and praising those who practice it, one's great vow unmoving, taking one's whole life as the term, not stopping even should realization fail to come in future lives, one invokes the buddhas of the ten directions as illumination and as rescue. Moving the Buddha to emit the very light of concentration, the obstruction of scattered agitation is broken, and phenomenal dhyāna opens and unfolds, corresponding with the four contemplations. The Great Treatise, expounding the pāramitā of dhyāna, first lists out every method of dhyāna; next clarifies that having nothing whatsoever attained reveals the very mark of the pāramitā itself; and afterward explains at length the nine contemplations, the eight recollections, and the rest, all opened out from within dhyāna itself. The methods of dhyāna are exceedingly numerous, and here only five gates are taken up as the auxiliary path. Should the mind, while engaged in dhyāna-reflection, be given to excessive discursive thought, pervasively conditioned by the three poisons, one ought to apply the counting of the breath as the remedy. Should this counting fail to succeed, one recognizes at once that the mind has wandered off, and, once wandered, pursues and brings it back, beginning the count anew from the start. Guarding against scattering and recording the mind in this way is the very best remedy. Because the mind is thereby settled, one is able to enter anywhere from the desire realm's own concentration all the way through the seven supporting concentrations. Should one fail to attain the skillful means of prajñā, this becomes merely the ordinary being's own dharma; should one attain this skillful means, it becomes the Great Vehicle itself. Hence the Sūtra of Invoking Avalokiteśvara says: "Should the mind be settled through counting the breath, one sees the Buddha through every pore of the body, abiding in the Śūraṅgama samādhi, attaining non-regression." This is the counting of the breath opening the gate of liberation, corresponding with the Tripiṭaka teaching's own eightfold concentration, all the way through to corresponding with the unconditioned eightfold concentration. This is the oil of phenomenal practice assisting and increasing the brightness of the path. Should one be conditioned by attachment to the beauty of a woman's form, indulging and lost within it, deluded and clinging, unable to break free, one ought to apply the contemplation of impurity as the remedy. Contemplating the mark of that very beloved person at the moment of death: their words scarcely finished, and where have they suddenly gone? The body grows cold, its color changes, worms and pus flow forth, an impure stench filling everything, defiled and abhorrent, cast away among the graves like rotten, decayed wood — what remains now to be seen of what was once so cherished and loved? This is nothing but a vile object, and it is this alone that brings me such grief and toil. Once the fault of desire is recognized in this way, the mind of lust is thereby stilled. The remaining eight contemplations likewise cure lustful desire. The Great Treatise says: "For one of excessive lust, have him contemplate the nine stages of a corpse's decay; for one lacking mastery over his own object, have him contemplate the eight liberations; for one whose object is not broad enough, have him contemplate the eight bases of mastery; for one unable to transform his object, have him contemplate the ten totalities; and for one beset by fear, have him cultivate the eight recollections." All of these take impurity as their first gate, every one curing the fire of lust, opening the gate of liberation, corresponding with the four kinds of eightfold concentration, assisting the oil and increasing its brightness, and so on accordingly. Should one be conditioned by clinging to anger, one ought to apply loving-kindness as the remedy. The pāramitā of patience discussed above is the general antidote; here, specifically, the immeasurable mind of loving-kindness is taken up. The remaining three immeasurable minds may correspond to delight and aspiration and the rest, accordingly. As for immeasurable compassion serving as the antidote: taking sentient beings' own suffering as its object, giving rise to deep pity and sorrow, wishing to pull out their suffering, entering concentration by way of this very mind, one corresponds with compassion. Loving-kindness means picturing sentient beings attaining bliss, entering by way of this mind, corresponding with the concentration of loving-kindness. Sympathetic joy means picturing sentient beings attaining bliss and giving rise to great rejoicing over it, entering by way of this mind, corresponding with the concentration of joy. Equanimity means relinquishing both attachment and aversion, abiding in the contemplation of equality, entering by way of this mind, corresponding with the concentration of equanimity. One who attains these four concentrations finds that anger toward any sentient being whatsoever has no way left to arise at all — explained further at greater length below. Should one be conditioned by deviant inversion, one ought to apply the contemplation of causes and conditions as the remedy. The Abhidharma uses the elements as skillful means to break through the notion of self; here, causes and conditions are used to break through the self instead. The three times break through annihilationism and eternalism; the two times break through the self; and a single thought-moment breaks through fixed nature itself. Should this concentration be accomplished, it thereby corresponds with contemplative principle, assisting in opening the gate of nirvāṇa. Should the offense of drowsiness obstructing the path arise, one applies the contemplation of the Buddha as the remedy. Taking as one's object the markless mark of the response-buddha, this object made vividly clear, one breaks through the offense obstructing the path, sees the buddhas of the ten directions, and corresponds with contemplative principle, opening the gate of nirvāṇa.

Should one, having cultivated exactly as described above, still fail to enter thereby — or should this simply not be what is suited to him — one ought to reflect that, within contemplative principle, there are complete the four foundations of mindfulness, the faculty of wisdom, the power of wisdom, the awakening-factors of discrimination and joy, correct view, and correct thought — these ten dharmas together, gathered in by the pāramitā of wisdom. This is contemplative principle; and should this very understanding remain unclear, it is on account of the foolish delusion and confusion carried across both this life and the last, obscuring and covering one's own spirit, and this is exactly why samādhi fails to manifest. One ought, then, to undertake reform, raising a great vow, causing phenomenal contemplation to become clear and manifest, breaking through the four inversions. Examining closely, from head to foot, this body is nothing but impurity from its very seed onward, reaching the ultimate five kinds of impurity. Namely: this body gathers together another's own discarded substance, tears and secretions, red and white, these two drops united together, consciousness entrusted within them as its very substance — this is named "the impurity of the seed." Dwelling between the two organs, steeped and soaked in filth and turbidity, now suspended, now compressed, at times hot, at times cold, transforming once every seven days, carried for ten months in the womb. Once the six sensory openings are formed, its shape and appearance complete, the months having reached their full term, it turns toward the very passage of birth. The Great Treatise says: "This body is neither born by transformation nor born from a lotus flower, but emerges simply from the urinary passage itself." This place is base and vile, foul at its very depths — this is named "the impurity of dwelling-place." Once born forth, sleeping amid filth and excrement, nursed and raised from infancy to adulthood — the ears collecting wax, the eyes discharging rheum and tears, the nostrils dripping mucus, the mouth constantly foul-smelling, the head's own grime layered thick like watery mud, the thighs and armpits sour with sweat as though drenched in urine, one's very clothing, once worn against the skin, becoming as though smeared with oil — this is named "the impurity of its own characteristic marks." Within it, there is nothing but a mass of urine and feces, a mass of pus, a mass of blood, fat and marrow gathered together, large intestine and small, fatty tissue, brain and membrane, sinew wound about and smeared with blood, foul discharge and stench, a nest gathering worms — even washed with the whole of the ocean's own water, it could never be made clean. The Treatise says: "This body is not like Mount Malaya, which is able to give forth sandalwood — from its smallest beginning to its largest extent, its very nature is impurity." It is like dung and filth — however much or little, all of it alike foul. This is named "the impurity of its own inherent nature." Once its life comes to an end, the borrowed elements return to their own source: wind departs, fire grows cold; earth crumbles, water flows away; worms devour it, birds peck at it, head and limbs come apart, fluids spilling out on every side; within three to five leagues, against the wind, its stench can still be smelled, its foul, rank odor assailing the very breath of anyone nearby; its hideous, blackened, and bruised color offends the eyes of any who see it, worse even than a dead dog. This is named "the ultimate impurity." These five kinds are, every one, a genuine, realized contemplation, not merely an intellectual understanding. How, then, could one suddenly calculate, in the midst of all this, that the body is pure — dressing it in fine clothes, feeding it delicacies, cherishing and nurturing it, stroking its head and wiping its neck, protecting this very poisonous vessel? It is like a dung-beetle rolling its own ball of deer dung; a person is exactly the same, cherishing this body so dearly that, even to the point of death, he never tires of it, unable to bear even the slightest touch against it. And it is precisely for the sake of nourishing this very body that every manner of offense is committed. Should one recognize its faults and failings, its impurity from beginning to end, one is thereby able to break through the inversion of purity.

Further, one should know that the body, formed of the four great elements, has two elements above and two below, mutually contradicting and opposing one another. Earth obstructs water; water erodes earth. Wind scatters earth; earth blocks wind. Water extinguishes fire; fire evaporates water — each continually encroaching upon and harming the other. It is like a box holding four vipers, or a festering wound pierced by an arrow — constantly, of itself, suffering, so what possible bliss could be found in it? Add to this hunger, thirst, cold, heat, whipping, binding, birth, old age, illness, and death — this is "the suffering of suffering." The four great elements encroaching upon one another, mutually destroying each other, this is "the suffering of decay." Flowing and burning, thought-moment after thought-moment, this is "the suffering of formation." Within this very suffering, one falsely gives rise to the notion of bliss — but should one see the mark of suffering with full clarity, like the constant, unrelenting pain of a thorn lodged within a wound, one would never give rise to even a single thought-moment's inversion of bliss with respect to this very body. Further, one should contemplate: past ignorance and every wholesome and unwholesome karma drive and bind consciousness, forcing it into the very prison of the womb. It is like a bird bound within a cage, wishing to leave and unable to do so. Consciousness is exactly the same: caged within the four great elements, bound by the very cord of its own attainment — the mind, dwelling within this cage of form, has nowhere it does not reach. So long as the cord of karma remains unsevered, it departs only to return once more; once the cage is broken and the cord severed, it departs and never returns, the cage remaining empty behind it. This destroyed, that arising in its place, emerging from one cage only to enter another, like a seal-impression destroyed as a new pattern forms — not a single thought-moment ever remains still. Further, the very breath depending upon the body is named "the in-breath and out-breath"; this breath shifts and passes away, the outward breath never guaranteeing the inward breath that should follow it. The Abhidharma says: "Life is neither form nor a mental dharma." The Great Collection Sūtra says: "The in-breath and out-breath are named 'life itself.'" Should a single breath fail to return, this is at once named "the end of life." A monk once said to the Buddha: "I cannot even guarantee seven more days of life, let alone the very breath that follows this one." The Buddha said: "Excellent — this is skillfully cultivating the contemplation of impermanence." Further, one contemplates that every karma is like an enemy, like crows fighting over a piece of flesh. The sūtra says: "Evil arising in but a single instant plunges one into the uninterrupted hell." Even so brief a moment can form so grave a karma — how much more, then, the evil thoughts accumulated across the long night of countless lifetimes, whose karma is boundless without limit? Karma is like a creditor demanding repayment, forever watching for its opportunity against a person. Should one directly repay this particular debt, no other karma drags one along in the meantime; but as this repayment nears completion, other karmic debts compete to seize hold, with no fixed term for either departure or continuance. The murderous demon of impermanence spares neither the mighty nor the worthy; how precarious and fragile, how unreliable a thing to place one's trust in! How, then, could one calmly expect to reach a hundred years of life? Racing in every direction, accumulating and hoarding wealth — before this accumulation is even complete, one suddenly departs forever. Whatever property and goods one possessed become, in the end, merely another's, while one departs alone into the darkness — who is left even to inquire whether this was right or wrong? Even a monk, however overflowing his own learning and understanding, or however diligently he extinguishes his own afflictions, may still fail to awaken to impermanence. As the proverb says: "Pitiable is one without even the five charms of beauty, and diligent effort without the mind of the path" — this is exactly that same sense. Should one recognize that impermanence surpasses even a raging flood, a fierce wind, flashing lightning, or the vastness of mountain, sea, and marketplace, with nowhere at all to escape it — contemplating in this way, the mind grows greatly fearful, unable to rest easy even in sleep, unable to find any food palatable, as though rushing to save one's own head from flame. Like a swift white colt, like a startled crow, racing day and night to seek the way out — how, then, could one still cling with greed to worldly wealth, entangling oneself in every mode of existence, performing deeds of no benefit at all, constructing further karma of birth-and-death? Abruptly severing every fetter, transcending it all and going straight forward, like a wild fox breaking free and leaping clear, racing to escape the burning house, seeking rescue and deliverance at the very earliest moment. This is breaking through the inversion of permanence.

The Great Calming and Contemplation, Fascicle Seven, Upper Part, ends here.

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

Further, one ought to contemplate: across countless kalpas, one has, for the most part, calculated a self and a person in terms of name-and-form, or of perception and formation. Fixed in this very grasping, on suddenly hearing praise or abuse, one says at once, "I am praised, I am abused"; standing, walking, sitting, or lying down, every matter and every thing whatsoever is calculated in terms of self. It is like glue smeared on the hand — wherever it grasps, it sticks fast. The sūtra says: "Should the ordinary being be free of this very mind of self, this would be simply impossible." Should one meet with poverty, one loses one's own original mind, yet the calculation of self never ceases even so; should one attain wealth and rank, one indulges every power, unleashing poison and cruelty upon the whole world, blazing with fury and pride, wronging the innocent without cause. Every karma that arises is claimed as "my own doing" — but who, then, is left to bear its consequence in my place? It is like grasping fire against the wind — how could this fail to burn one's own hand? It is like that dark chamber where one supposed there to be a ghost — but once daylight illuminates it clearly, it turns out to be nothing but the same familiar person as before. Further, it is only for lack of wisdom that one calculates there to be a self at all; contemplated with wisdom, there is, in truth, no self to be found. Where, then, does this self actually reside? Examining closely, one by one, the head, the feet, every limb and joint — one finds, in the end, no self to be seen at all. Where, then, could there possibly be any "person" or "sentient being"? The mechanism of karmic force, provisionally forming what is, in truth, an empty gathering — arising from a multitude of conditions, with no ruling master over it at all. It is like two ghosts quarreling over a corpse within an empty pavilion at night. Contemplating in this way, the inversion of self is thereby brought to rest. Should one cultivate these four contemplations, breaking through the four inversions, the mind of the path rises up thick and strong, giving rise to great fear. It is like being pursued by an enemy, like fleeing a hostile kingdom, like traveling a perilous road, thought after thought scattered in panic, seeking only the way out. A musk deer, hearing itself surrounded by hunters, bolts in sudden terror, running without pause — even should it come upon water and grass, what leisure has it left to drink or graze? Its whole intent fixed on escape alone — the śrāvaka is exactly the same. Should a deer break through the encirclement, gaining some small measure of escape from danger, it still runs on while glancing back, crying out in mournful, choked distress, grieving with longing for the herd it left behind — and though it may yet hesitate and linger, what benefit, in the end, could this bring? Swallowing its own cries, holding back its grief, it presses onward regardless — the pratyekabuddha is exactly the same, escaping birth-and-death for himself, and, though he pities and grieves for sentient beings left behind, unable to rescue and pull them out. But should it be, instead, a great elephant king — hearing itself surrounded, it cannot bear to leave alone, and, knowing its own strength sufficient to ward off blade and arrow, it guards and protects its own young, bringing the whole herd safely through, sparing them all from harm. The bodhisattva is exactly the same. When the contemplations of impermanence and no-self both become clear, fear cuts to the very heart, as though treading through fire and water — and yet, at the same time, compassion arises, like a mother's constant thought for her own child. Sentient beings, blind and benighted, do not even perceive that they are burning in suffering — how, then, could I possibly abandon them and depart alone? Bearing birth-and-death with patient endurance, using skillful means of wisdom to ripen and mature their transformation, one creates the very causes and conditions for their deliverance; and, in this very process, one's own merit, Dharma-body, and life of wisdom grow and increase in turn. Once conditions ripen for those with whom one has an affinity, one sits at the very seat of enlightenment, accomplishes buddhahood, and departs the three realms together with sentient beings all at once — like that great elephant, both itself and others alike brought to safety. But should it instead be a mere elephant calf, though it too tries to ward off blade and arrow, it will inevitably be struck down, benefiting neither itself nor others. The beginning bodhisattva who wishes to enter birth-and-death, once birth-and-death actually touches him, may lose and retreat from his own wholesome roots, his Dharma-body broken apart — and yet, even so, the very fact of having given rise to the mind of great compassion in the first place remains a merit worthy of praise. Hence the bodhisattva, though he fears birth-and-death, still constantly seeks its own wholesome root, shouldering the burden of sentient beings, unlike the two lesser vehicles; and though he abides within birth-and-death, this is not out of craving for the five desires, but solely for the sake of benefiting both himself and others together, unlike the ordinary being. The sūtra says: "Neither abiding in the subdued, nor abiding in the unsubdued; though knowing there is no self, teaching others tirelessly, without ever growing weary; though knowing nirvāṇa, never entering final extinction; though knowing impurity, never preaching mere aversion and withdrawal from it" — this is exactly that same sense. Cultivating the merit and wholesome roots of the six pāramitās extensively is like a sheep whose body has grown fat; diligently contemplating impermanence, so that every evil karma is destroyed, is like that same sheep, constantly fearful of the wolf, as though it had no fat upon it at all. This is named "cultivating the mark of phenomenal prajñā." Practicing this oneself, and teaching it to others, praising the Dharma and praising those who practice it, one invokes the buddhas of the ten directions as witness and as rescue. Empowered by the majesty of every buddha, freed from obstruction and liberated, one thereby corresponds with the fourfold tenfold wisdom. This is the oil of phenomenal practice assisting and increasing the brightness of the path, and so on accordingly.

Should one have no contemplative principle at all, and no phenomenal repentance either, and yet still expect the Buddha's own seal of confirmation, hoping merely for benefit and seeking after fame — should the Buddha grant such a seal, this would be simply impossible. But should contemplative principle proceed without interruption, borrowing phenomenal practice to break through covering affliction, one's repentance genuinely sincere — such a seal of confirmation is indeed possible. As for why phenomenal assistance to the path is needed: it is like the pearl bound within the robe by the buddhas of twenty thousand koṭis of ages past. In the interim, one forgot the Great Vehicle, and so was not transformed by the great teaching; and only after a further six hundred kalpas was one roused through the lesser vehicle instead, causing fear of birth-and-death and gradually turning one back toward the father's own house. One should therefore know that it is fitting to borrow the lesser to assist the greater. Further, when the Buddha first wished to teach the great vehicle directly, the other buddhas did not confirm it with their seal; only once he considered skillful means did they proclaim, "Excellent!" It is like a wealthy family's own child, fallen ill, who ought to be given the Yellow Dragon decoction — would his parents ever begrudge him this fine medicine? It is fitting, rather, to compel him to take it regardless, and, once taken, the illness is cured. The Buddha, too, has his own original vow, wishing every being to become just as he himself is — how, then, could he ever begrudge the Great Vehicle to anyone? Simply because circumstances do not allow it directly, he meets each capacity with its own antidote, assisting the path and opening the gate — the sense of this is exactly the same. Question: should one fail to cultivate this auxiliary path, samādhi cannot be accomplished — does this mean, then, that the six pāramitās are actually superior to the branches of the path? Answer: this admits of three distinct propositions: the six pāramitās break through the branches of the path, and the branches of the path break through the six pāramitās; the six pāramitās cultivate the branches of the path, and the branches of the path cultivate the six pāramitās; the six pāramitās are themselves already the branches of the path, and the branches of the path are themselves already the six pāramitās. As explained above, the branches of the path alone are unable to accord with the real, while cultivating the six pāramitās is indeed able to break through covering affliction — is this not, then, the six pāramitās breaking through the branches of the path? Yet, at other times, the six pāramitās alone are unable to reach the other shore, while cultivating the branches of the path brings about awakening and entry directly — this is the branches of the path breaking through the six pāramitās. Should one cultivate the six pāramitās, first breaking through the six coverings, and then advance to cultivate the branches of the path, this can be accomplished spontaneously with ease — this is the six pāramitās cultivating the branches of the path. And what was explained above is precisely the branches of the path cultivating the six pāramitās. As for the six pāramitās and the branches of the path being identical with one another: giving is itself already the Great Vehicle; the four foundations of mindfulness are likewise themselves already the Great Vehicle; giving and the branches of the path are thus without any duality, without any distinction, since neither can ever actually be found apart from the other. Discussed generally across every dharma: with respect to actual practice, they may be without benefit to each other, mutually breaking one another through; with respect to actual practice, they may be of benefit to each other, mutually cultivating one another; and with respect to principle itself, they are mutually identical with one another throughout. Whether one takes the Four Noble Truths, causes and conditions, existence, nonexistence, or neither existence nor nonexistence, extended broadly across every dharma, each admits of these same three propositions in turn. Grasping this sense, one may speak of it entirely freely, and so on accordingly.

How, then, do the six pāramitās gather in the sense of regulating the six faculties? Should the six faculties not receive the six sense-objects, this accords with the awakening-factors of relinquishment and removal found among the branches of the path — this is precisely the pāramitā of giving regulating the six faculties. Should the six faculties not be injured by the six sense-objects, this accords with the branches of the path's own correct action, correct speech, and correct livelihood — this is precisely the pāramitā of the precepts regulating the six faculties. Bearing patiently, unmoved, against the six sense-objects that go against one's own feeling, this accords with the fourfold mindfulness found among the branches of the path — this is named the pāramitā of patience regulating the six faculties. Guarding and protecting the faculties and their objects, constantly without laxity, this accords with the eightfold diligence found among the branches of the path — this is named the pāramitā of diligence regulating the six faculties. The concentrated mind undisturbed, not confused by the six sense-objects, this accords with the eightfold concentration found among the branches of the path — this is named the pāramitā of dhyāna regulating the six faculties. Knowing that the six sense-objects are impermanent, suffering, empty, and quiescent, this accords with the tenfold wisdom found among the branches of the path — this is named the pāramitā of wisdom regulating the six faculties. This, then, is the Tripiṭaka teaching's own account of regulating the six faculties, complete with the six pāramitās in full. Furthermore: knowing that the eye is empty and does not receive the eye itself, that form is empty and does not receive form itself, the faculty and its object being both empty — this is named "constant relinquishing conduct"; and so on, all the way through, mind being empty and not receiving mind itself, dharmas being empty and not receiving dharmas themselves, likewise named "constant relinquishing conduct" — this accords with the branches of the path's own awakening-factors of removal and relinquishment, and this is named "the pāramitā of giving regulating the six faculties." The emptiness of form is unable to injure the emptiness of the eye, and the emptiness of the eye is unable to injure the emptiness of form; and so on, all the way through, the emptiness of dharmas gains no advantage over mind, and the emptiness of mind gains no advantage over dharmas — this accords with the branches of the path's own correct speech, correct action, and correct livelihood, and this is named "the pāramitā of the precepts regulating the six faculties." Further, since the eye and form are both empty, there is neither opposition nor accordance, neither endurance nor its absence; and so on, all the way through, since mind and dharmas are both empty, there is likewise neither opposition nor accordance, neither endurance nor its absence — this accords with the branches of the path's own fourfold mindfulness, and this is named "the pāramitā of patience regulating the six faculties." The eye and form being constantly empty, with no time at which they are not empty, cultivating and according with this in exactly this way corresponds with prajñā itself; and so on, all the way through, mind and dharmas being constantly empty, with no time at which they are not empty, this too is named corresponding with prajñā — this accords with the branches of the path's own eightfold diligence, and this is named "the pāramitā of diligence regulating the six faculties." The eye and form being empty, one is neither disturbed nor attached; and so on, all the way through, mind and dharmas being empty, one is likewise neither disturbed nor attached — this accords with the branches of the path's own concentrations, and this is named "the pāramitā of dhyāna regulating the six faculties." The eye and form being empty, one is neither foolish nor wise; and so on, all the way through, mind and dharmas being empty, one is likewise neither foolish nor wise — this accords with the branches of the path's own tenfold wisdom, and this is named "the pāramitā of wisdom regulating the six faculties." This is the shared teaching's own account of regulating the six faculties, complete with the six pāramitās in full. Should the eye and form both be complete with the ten dharma-realms, the ten dharma-realms each having their own differing retribution, superior or inferior, and each cultivating their own cause at differing depths — cause and fruit being boundless, never to be exhausted — setting aside unknowing, distinguishing the marks of every dharma, with nothing at all received or clung to; and so on, all the way through, mind and dharmas being complete with the ten dharma-realms, distinguished without attachment — this accords with the branches of the path's own awakening-factors of removal and relinquishment, and this is named "the pāramitā of giving regulating the six faculties." Distinguishing the boundless marks and appearances of the eye, of form, and, all the way through, of mind and dharmas, never once mismatching a given capacity, never injuring another's own wholesome root, and never, oneself, being injured by boundless faculties and their objects — this accords with the branches of the path's own correct action, speech, and livelihood, and this is named "the pāramitā of the precepts regulating the six faculties." Further, amid the faculties and objects of the ten dharma-realms, whether in opposition or accordance, the mind remains unmoved, abiding securely within the middle of the provisional, able to bear with the very matter of accomplishing the path — this accords with the branches of the path's own mindfulness, and this is named "the pāramitā of patience regulating the six faculties." Further, distinguishing every faculty and object, should a thought of difficulty or hardship arise, one still does not retreat midway, showing courage amid birth-and-death itself — this accords with the branches of the path's own diligence, and this is named "the pāramitā of diligence regulating the six faculties." Further, distinguishing every faculty and object, the mind neither disturbed nor confused, neither shaken nor deviant — this accords with the branches of the path's own concentrations, and this is named "the pāramitā of dhyāna regulating the six faculties." Further, distinguishing every faculty and object, the power of the wisdom of the path in every kind administering medicine exactly as suited, skillful and adept in its means, and yet without any defiled attachment at all — this accords with the branches of the path's own wisdoms, and this is named "the pāramitā of wisdom regulating the six faculties." This, then, is the distinct teaching's own account of regulating the six faculties, complete with the six pāramitās in full.

Furthermore, as the Aṅgulimāla Sūtra says, "This eye-faculty of theirs, with respect to every tathāgata's own constancy, is cultivated completely without deficiency, and sees with perfect clarity" — "theirs" refers to the eye-faculty of the nine dharma-realms. "With respect to every tathāgata's own constancy" means that the nine realms, taken each on their own, believe themselves not to be genuinely real; yet the Tathāgata, contemplating them, finds them to be precisely the buddha-dharma-realm itself, without duality, without distinction. "Cultivated completely without deficiency" means contemplating that every eye is itself already the buddha-eye, the three truths in a single mind, the perfect cause complete in full, with nothing whatsoever lacking. "Sees with perfect clarity" means illuminating the real is "perfect," and illuminating the provisional is "clarity"; the three wisdoms within a single mind, the five eyes complete and perfectly illuminating — this is named "seeing the buddha-nature with perfect clarity." Discussed in terms of seeing, this is the perfect realization; discussed in terms of cultivation, this is the perfect cause. Further, as for "cultivated completely": contemplating the eye-faculty, relinquishing the contamination of both extremes, is named "giving"; the eye-faculty not being injured by either extreme is named "the precepts"; the eye-faculty quiescent, unmoved by either extreme, is named "patience"; the eye-faculty and its consciousness flowing spontaneously into the very ocean of omniscience is named "diligence"; contemplating the eye's own true nature is named "the higher concentration"; and illuminating the eye's own middle way with the wisdom of all modes is named "wisdom." This is the eye-faculty cultivated completely without deficiency. Being without deficiency, one sees the dharma-realm of the eye with perfect clarity; and so on, all the way through, that same mind-faculty, with respect to every tathāgata's own constancy, is cultivated completely without deficiency, and knows with perfect clarity. Within each and every faculty, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, the three contemplations in a single mind — this is named "cultivated without deficiency." Realizing the eye of wisdom, the Dharma-eye, and the buddha-eye, all attained within a single mind, is named "seeing with perfect clarity." All exactly as explained above. As it is for the faculty, so it is, likewise, for its object; and every other dharma proceeds in exactly the same way. This, then, is the perfect teaching's own account of regulating the six faculties, complete with the six pāramitās in full. This, then, is the ultimate regulation, the ultimate completeness; auxiliary practice of this kind assists the ultimate path itself. One should therefore know that the six pāramitās are able to regulate every faculty everywhere, without exception. The Larger Sūtra says: "Since the giver, the receiver, and the property given can none of them be found, this is precisely the perfection of giving complete in full." Extinguishing these three matters, with nothing at all clung to — this is exactly the very substance of giving itself. As for what makes it "complete": carrying out both giving of property and giving of Dharma, giving is thereby named "complete," both phenomenal practice and contemplative principle perfected together. Benefiting both oneself and others at once, this is exactly why it is named "complete." Phenomenally, one breaks through the very dharma of stinginess and is thereby able to relinquish property; in terms of principle, one breaks through the very mind of stinginess and is thereby able to relinquish Dharma. These two forms of breaking-through, these two forms of relinquishing, their substance and function both complete — this is named "pāramitā."

How, then, do the six pāramitās gather in the Buddha's own dignified bearing? The Buddha takes the ten powers, the fearlessnesses, the dharmas not shared with others, and the rest as his very dignified bearing. Cultivating the four branches of the path within a single mind is named "cultivating the Buddha's own dignified bearing"; realizing the buddha-eye and buddha-wisdom is named "attaining the Buddha's own dignified bearing." Here, then, following the text's own natural order, clarifying how the branches of the path gather in the ten powers: the four branches of the path are themselves already the four kinds of Four Noble Truths' own wisdom, determining cause and fruit decisively. Knowing that the origin belonging to generation-and-extinction decisively brings about the suffering of the three realms — this is "a valid case"; should the origin belonging to generation-and-extinction lead all the way to nirvāṇa without remainder — this is "not a valid case." Should the path belonging to generation-and-extinction be able to exhaust suffering and enter nirvāṇa — this is "a valid case"; should the path belonging to generation-and-extinction instead lead back into the three realms — this is "not a valid case." And so on, all the way through: should the origin belonging to the unconditioned lead to transformational birth-and-death — this is "a valid case"; should it lead to the unsurpassed nirvāṇa itself — this is "not a valid case." Should the path and cessation belonging to the unconditioned lead to the wisdom of all modes — this is "a valid case"; should they lead merely to the two lesser vehicles — this is "not a valid case." Knowing these four pairs of cause and fruit within a single mind, judging and distinguishing them with perfect clarity, is named "the power of knowing what is and is not a valid case." Hence the Tathāgata, within the Buddha's own Dharma, roars the lion's own roar: "Only within my own Dharma are there the four fruits of the śramaṇa!" — this is exactly that same sense. As for the power of knowing karma and its retribution: knowing the four kinds of origin is knowing karma; knowing suffering is knowing retribution; and the same holds for the path and cessation. Distinguishing the shallow and deep degrees of the four kinds of karma and retribution without error is the second power. As for the power of knowing meditative concentration: distinguishing the depth of the eightfold concentration found within the four kinds of the truth of the path, illuminating it without the slightest deviation, is the third power. As for the power of knowing faculty, aspiration, and disposition: knowing that past suffering and its origin differ from one being to the next is named the power of faculty; knowing that present suffering, its origin, and delight and aspiration differ from being to being is named the power of aspiration; knowing that future suffering, its origin, gain, and loss differ from being to being is named the power of disposition. These are the fourth, fifth, and sixth powers. As for the power of knowing the destination of every path: knowing the destination reached by each of the four kinds of the truth of the path is the seventh power. As for the powers of knowing past lives and the divine eye: illuminating one's own or another's past life, or many past lives, their lineage's own excellence or fault, their life-span long or short, is named the power of knowing past lives; illuminating the excellence or fault of future places of rebirth is named the power of the divine eye. These are named the eighth and ninth powers. As for the power of the exhaustion of contamination: this is the uncontaminated mind, wisdom, and liberation realized through the four kinds of the truth of cessation. As for why this single Dharma-gate should have four distinct versions: it is like a king's own secret message, which only his wise minister can decode. The Buddha teaches the ten powers to meet four distinct capacities, so that the lesser may not slander the greater and thereby injure their own merit, and so that the greater may not settle for the lesser and thereby suppress their own wholesome root. Each capacity, hearing only its own version, gains its own benefit, without any contrivance or artifice at all — hence he is named "the Capable One." The bodhisattva, as wise minister, deeply understands this secret message: knowing the intent lies with the Tripiṭaka teaching, he asks specifically about generation-and-extinction, inquiring earnestly and respectfully, so that those with the affinity for it may swiftly awaken; and so on, all the way through, knowing the intent lies with the perfect teaching, he either recites or inquires about the unconditioned, so that others may attain understanding. A single voice, uttered uniquely, and ten thousand listeners, every one delighted — the secret held within the spoken word is boundless, its sense inexhaustible. Given these four explanations above, what room could there possibly be left for doubt?

Question: the ten powers are the Buddha's own dignified bearing — how could a beginning practitioner possibly study them? How could he possibly attain them? Answer: the Great Treatise says: "The bodhisattva, practicing prajñā, ought not to abide in the ten powers or the fearlessnesses. Should the Buddha have no fault at all within the Buddha's own Dharma, then he ought indeed to abide there; but should the bodhisattva have no such Buddha-dharma yet, what abiding could possibly even be discussed?" Explained thus: the bodhisattva cultivating the Buddha's own merit tends readily to grow heavily attached to it; breaking through this heavy attachment is exactly why it is said he "ought not to abide" there; and further, the bodhisattva attains the ten powers and fearlessnesses only in part, not yet the ultimate, and this too is why he ought not to abide there. If this is so, though he cultivates them beforehand without yet attaining them, and only later, described as entering the proper stage, actually attains them — what relevance could this have to the beginning practitioner at all? According to the Avataṃsaka Sūtra's own "Chapter on the Ten Abidings": "The bodhisattva, on account of the very first arising of the resolve, already attains a portion of the ten powers." The heavenly son Correct Mindfulness asks Dharma-Wisdom: "How does the great being of the very first resolve cultivate the skillful means of the ten powers, knowing the household to be no true household, and leaving home to study the path? How does he cultivate the practice of pure conduct through skillful means, complete with the path of the ten abidings, swiftly accomplishing bodhi?" The answer is given: "The bodhisattva ought first to distinguish ten kinds of dharma, namely the three karmas together with the Buddha, the Dharma, the Saṃgha, and the precepts. Should the body itself be pure conduct, pure conduct would then be turbid, harboring eighty thousand households of worms within it; should bodily karma itself be pure conduct, this would be merely the four postures, a glance, the lifting and setting down of a foot. Should speech itself be pure conduct, this would be merely sound touching the mind, lip, tooth, and tongue moving; should verbal karma itself be pure conduct, this would be merely language itself. And so on, all the way through: should the precepts themselves be pure conduct, the ten-person assembly at the ordination platform inquiring after purity, the precept-master proclaiming the fourfold formal procedure, the shaving of the head, the begging for alms, and the rest, would all fail to be pure conduct at all. Where, then, does pure conduct actually reside? Who, then, actually possesses pure conduct? The three times, equal throughout, like empty space itself — this is named 'skillful means.' Further cultivating the ten superior dharmas, namely the ten powers, profound and boundless — one who contemplates in this way swiftly attains every merit of every buddha, and, at the very moment the resolve first arises, already accomplishes correct awakening, knowing the true nature of every dharma, complete with the very body of wisdom, awakened not through any other." Given so clear a text as this, how could this fail to be the beginning practitioner cultivating and realizing the ten powers? Further, the Bodhisattvabhūmi says: "The bodhisattva, knowing the tathāgatagarbha, with hearing and reflection as its own preceding practice, cultivates the dhyāna of inherent nature, and thereby enters every dhyāna. Every dhyāna is of three kinds: first, the bliss of the present dharma, and, on account of this present bliss, it is named the ground of joy; second, the very seed-nature giving birth to the ten powers, and samāpatti, together with what the two lesser vehicles set aside; third, the dhyāna that benefits sentient beings." The ten abidings are named the wisdom of hearing; the ten practices are named the wisdom of reflection; and it is this very hearing and reflection, prior to all else, cultivating the dhyāna of inherent nature and entering every dhyāna, that attains all three dharmas complete. How could this fail to be the beginning practitioner both cultivating and realizing at once? These three sources of evidence make this entirely clear. The branches of the path, the six pāramitās, and the Buddha's own ten powers mutually gather one another in, turn by turn, exactly as explained above. Cultivating the branches of the path and the six pāramitās is itself already cultivating the Buddha's own ten powers; regulating the six faculties and completing the six pāramitās is itself already completing the ten powers, abiding in the Buddha's own dignified bearing without any difference at all. The Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā says: "'Power' is named for its support and assistance, its own vital strength inexhaustible." The Bodhisattvabhūmi says: "Attaining superiority and capability is what is named 'power.'" Being genuinely real throughout the ten domains, free of falsehood, surpassing Māra himself, through one's own practice — this is named "attaining superiority"; being able to benefit sentient beings through skillful means — this is named "capability." Yet the Buddha's own power is boundless — why, then, stop at merely ten? In truth, it is a single wisdom taking ten matters as its object, and this is exactly why it is spoken of as "ten." These ten alone already suffice to transform sentient beings; given these ten, the rest may likewise be known. The Aṅgulimāla Sūtra says: "The ten powers belong to the śrāvaka's own tradition, not the Great Vehicle; the Great Vehicle possesses boundless powers." These two accounts together make the sense of the fourfold ten powers all the more manifest.

How, then, do the branches of the path gather in the four fearlessnesses? The fearlessness of omniscience: this is being fully equipped to know the four kinds of the truth of suffering, distinguishing them for others, clearly showing their faults and failings, roaring the lion's own roar with resolute certainty, with not the slightest trace of fear, so that none can challenge whether this is truly the Dharma or not. The fearlessness of knowing what obstructs the path: the four kinds of the truth of origin obstruct the four kinds of the path and cessation, and one roars the lion's own roar with resolute certainty, with not the slightest trace of fear, so that none can challenge that this is indeed what obstructs the path. The fearlessness of the path that exhausts suffering: the four kinds of the truth of the path are able to be carried out, attaining the exhaustion of suffering and transcendence of the world, and one roars the lion's own roar with resolute certainty, with not the slightest trace of fear. The fearlessness of the uncontaminated: the four kinds of the truth of cessation, each with its own realization, each with its own extinguishing, and one roars the lion's own roar with resolute certainty, with not the slightest trace of fear. The branches of the path and the fearlessnesses gather one another in, turn by turn. Cultivating the branches of the path and the six pāramitās is itself already cultivating fearlessness, abiding in the Buddha's own dignified bearing. The Great Treatise says: "Being complete within one's own inward mind is named 'power'; its outward function, free of any timidity, is named 'fearlessness.'" The Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā says: "This is, in truth, a single dharma named fearlessness — why, then, is it spoken of as four? Because there is no doubt with respect to four distinct matters, it is hence named 'four.'" The Buddha ought to be fearless with respect to every dharma without exception — why, then, only four? This raises only the essential outline, opening up the matter's own starting-points; the rest, too, is likewise fearless. As for gathering in the eighteen dharmas not shared with others: first, "body and speech without fault" — these two are precisely the four branches of the path's own correct action, speech, and livelihood. Receiving offerings without growing proud, meeting slander without growing dejected, is named "the mind without any instability." The four postures constantly abiding in concentration is named "no lack of full awareness." These two dharmas are the eightfold concentration found among the four branches of the path. Cultivating body, precepts, mind, and wisdom inexhaustibly is named "aspiration without diminishment." Compassion delivering beings, abiding securely in quiescent cessation, neither increasing nor decreasing, is named "diligence without diminishment." Bearing suffering for the sake of every sentient being across boundless kalpas, without weariness, without aversion, is named "mindfulness without diminishment." These three dharmas are the eightfold diligence found among the four branches of the path. Constantly illuminating the minds of sentient beings across the three times, needing no further contemplation before teaching the Dharma, never losing one's own prior recollection, is named "wisdom without diminishment." Recollecting the affairs of the three times without forgetting is named "liberation without diminishment." Spontaneous awakening, unlike the two lesser vehicles, is named "the knowledge and vision of liberation without diminishment." Every bodily action, taking wisdom as its very root, attaining unimpeded wisdom, its own expression inexhaustible, is named "bodily action accompanied by wisdom in its function"; and "verbal and mental action accompanied by wisdom" proceed in exactly the same way. These eleven dharmas, in all, are the tenfold wisdom found among the four branches of the path. Gathering these together completes the account of what is gathered in, the sense exactly as explained above. As for gathering in the four unimpeded understandings: unimpeded understanding of dharma is the very naming of the four kinds of Four Noble Truths, names distinguished from the mind itself — but were there no mind at all, who would be there to give rise to any name? Having already penetrated a single mind's own boundless minds, one likewise knows a single name's own boundless names, names inexhaustible — this is named "unimpeded understanding of dharma." Unimpeded understanding of meaning: every dharma, every name, converges upon a single meaning, namely the meaning of reality as it truly is — this is named "unimpeded understanding of meaning." Unimpeded understanding of language: the ten dharma-realms' own sentient beings speak in differing languages, every one of them fully understood. The language of the ten realms entering into a single language, knowing one realm is thereby understanding all ten, with no obstruction at all — this is named "unimpeded understanding of language." Further, dharma here is the Dharma-gate of the Four Noble Truths; meaning is the four kinds of the truth of the path; language is the four kinds of the truth of suffering, and so on accordingly. Unimpeded understanding of eloquent expression: using the four kinds of Four Noble Truths, skillfully meeting each capacity and condition, turning and interweaving endlessly in expression, causing others to delight in hearing it. Within a single word, expressing every word, every meaning, meeting every sound, so that each capacity and nature receives its own benefit accordingly. The sense of gathering this together is exactly as explained above.

As for gathering in the six spiritual powers: the divine eye, divine ear, and mind-made body are as explained within the regulation of the six faculties; knowing others' minds, past lives, and the exhaustion of contamination are as explained within the ten powers. As for gathering in the three insights, this is as explained within the six spiritual powers. As for gathering in the four means of embrace: giving as embrace is precisely the awakening-factors of removal and relinquishment found among the four branches of the path; loving speech is precisely the correct action, speech, and livelihood found among the four branches of the path; beneficial conduct and working alongside others are precisely the eightfold concentration found among the four branches of the path — since concentration possesses spiritual power, it is able to accomplish beneficial conduct and working alongside others accordingly. As for gathering in the dhāraṇīs: upholding every wholesome dharma is like a whole, unbroken vessel holding water; warding off every unwholesome dharma is like a thorn hedge guarding a fruit orchard. This is precisely the four right efforts found among the four branches of the path, diligently warding off the two evils and diligently generating the two forms of wholesomeness. Hence the Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā verse says: "Severing evil already arisen is like removing a venomous snake; severing evil not yet arisen is like guarding beforehand against a flood; increasing wholesomeness already arisen is like watering a sweet fruit sapling; bringing forth wholesomeness not yet arisen is like drilling wood to bring forth fire." As for gathering in the thirty-two marks: the Vibhāṣā says: "Within the 'Chapter on Marks' of the Abhidharma, each and every mark is distinguished threefold, namely the mark's own substance, the mark's own karma, and the mark's own fruit." The Great Treatise says: "Across a hundred kalpas, the thirty-two marks were planted as seed" — this is exactly that same sense. Applying this back to the Tripiṭaka teaching's own branches of the path and six pāramitās, one never departs, in the end, from giving, the precepts, wisdom, and the rest. The text is too elaborate to record in full here, but the sense of gathering may be known accordingly. As for the shared teaching's own account of the mark's substance, karma, and fruit, this differs from the account given above. Should one seek the Buddha by way of marks alone, the wheel-turning sage-king would then be the Tathāgata himself — one who does this walks a deviant path. The Buddha teaches that the thirty-two marks are, in truth, not the thirty-two marks at all — each and every one of them entirely purified through the mind of emptiness, corresponding with emptiness itself, is what is properly named "a mark." The Vibhāṣā, too, says: "The bodhisattva, with a single mind, cultivates the karma of the thirty-two marks, taking wisdom, throughout, as the very root" — this is precisely the wisdom of emptiness. If this is so, the thirty-two marks are, every one, gathered in by the tenfold wisdom of the branches of the path and the pāramitā of wisdom — this is exactly the shared teaching's own sense. Furthermore, the two prior teaching-gates of the branches of the path clarify only the cause, attaining the cultivation of the mark's own karma; discussed in terms of fruit, they attain only the mark's own substance. But this mark is only slightly superior to the wheel-turning king's own marks, since even Māra is able to conjure an imitation of it, and it is hence nothing truly extraordinary; and, upon entering nirvāṇa without remainder, the mark itself is extinguished forever. It is like obtaining bronze, which cannot reflect one's own face. The two lesser vehicles, together with the Tripiṭaka teaching's own buddha, alike attain only the real truth, without any image of the dharma-realm itself. One should therefore know that the two prior branches of the path are not the dharma that cultivates the mark; only the latter two branches of the path are the dharma that truly cultivates the mark. The Lotus Sūtra says: "Deeply penetrating the mark of offense and merit, illuminating the ten directions everywhere at once, the sublime and pure Dharma-body, complete with the thirty-two marks." Should one realize the middle way, the middle way is itself already complete with this very mark. As in the Lotus Sūtra, where the two lesser vehicles are opened, shown, awakened, and enter into the sublime accord with the middle way, they are thereby granted the prediction of buddhahood with the eight aspects. It is like obtaining a mirror, in which ten thousand images are bound to take form. The Great Vehicle, attaining the middle, has nothing whatsoever that fails to manifest; the mark of the Dharma-body is what is properly named "the true mark." The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "Already relinquished every mark and excellent feature found in the mundane world." The wheel-turning king and Māra both adorn themselves with mundane marks, all of them alike illusory and false, and this is exactly why it is said, "already relinquished." The bright mirror of the middle way is, at root, without any mark at all; and being markless and yet still marked, its beauty or ugliness follows from what it reflects, appearing everywhere, in whatever measure the condition calls for, manifesting the very form of a body — this is precisely the true mark. The Contemplation of Amitāyus Sūtra says: "Why does the Buddha Amitābha have eighty-four thousand marks, and each and every mark eighty-four thousand excellent features?" The Mahābherī Sūtra and the Avataṃsaka Sūtra both say: "The marks form a great ocean of marks; the excellent features form a lesser ocean of excellent features." Since it is already spoken of as "an ocean of marks," how could this possibly be confined to merely thirty-two? Since conditions differ from one being to the next, their number, too, varies accordingly. This true and real mark is gathered in by the distinct and perfect teachings' own branches of the path, and the sense of this may be known of itself, not recorded here in full. One should therefore know that the six pāramitās, as the auxiliary path, gather in every wholesome dharma without limit, without boundary. The twelve items raised above are given only to show the very starting-point of this sense; the rest, too, may be known to be gathered in accordingly. If even the auxiliary path is thus, how much more so, then, the correct path itself, and so on accordingly.

Eighth, clarifying one's own stage: the genuine and the resembling stages both possess the knowledge and vision of liberation, distinguished as clearly as crimson from purple. One must never mistakenly claim to have attained what has not yet been attained, calculating the four wholesome roots as though they were already the first fruit, or the first fruit as though it were already beyond further training — one must, rather, know for oneself precisely what has and has not yet been severed and realized. Though the four gates differ in the names given to their stages, the actual severance and the principle of the truth involved remain, in substance, no different at all. The two lesser vehicles, for the most part, discuss severing bondage within a single lifetime, and since their own time-frame is so compressed, what their teaching-gates clarify is largely the same, with only minor variation, amounting to little more than a shift in emphasis. The bodhisattva's own teaching-gate, by contrast, is not merely a matter of far greater time and far longer practice — its wisdom and severance differ as well, its direct path taking an altogether different route, though its final destination remains one and the same. Within the six pāramitās' own account: in the first incalculable eon, one does not yet know one will become a buddha; in the second incalculable eon, one knows it but does not yet speak of it; in the third incalculable eon, one both knows it and speaks of it; and across a hundred further kalpas, one plants the seed of the great being's own marks, complete with the five merits, named "the stage of non-regression" — all of these are, nonetheless, merely resembling stages. Only sitting at the seat of enlightenment and accomplishing buddhahood is properly named "the genuine stage." Even this teaching, shallow as it is at the outset, still retains its own sequence of stages — how, then, could an ordinary being, the very moment a thought first arises, possibly claim to have already reached the highest stage? If this is not overweening pride, then to what, exactly, could it be attributed? In the shared teaching's own account, the genuine and resembling stages of the two lesser vehicles differ in wisdom from the Tripiṭaka teaching, yet do not differ in the stage of severance itself. As for the bodhisattva's own stage, this differs distinctly and completely. Distinguishing the sense of "shared" and "distinct" by name is explained in the *Lotus Sūtra's Profound Meaning*, and so on accordingly. In the distinct teaching's own account of the stages of severing affliction and of wisdom, the two lesser vehicles, deaf and mute to it, are altogether outside its own domain, and this is exactly why it is named "distinct." Taken in one respect, this corresponds to the very stages clarified in the *Compendium of the Mahāyāna* and the *Avataṃsaka Sūtra* — this is exactly that same sense. Yet the distinct teaching's own sense branches out in many directions, meeting each capacity with a differing account: taken horizontally, its four gates differ from one another; taken vertically, its stages descend through differing depths — one cannot fix rigidly upon a single sūtra alone and judge every other account right or wrong by it. Bodhisattvas, further, at times compose general treatises explaining the sūtras, and at times compose specific treatises explaining them instead. Nāgārjuna alone composed a thousand treatises; how, then, could Vasubandhu's own treatises, and those of every other bodhisattva besides, ever be fully reckoned? Those who have truly gone beyond this are few indeed — how, then, could one bitterly cling to a single, exclusive sense, dismissing every other gate outright? Should one carelessly favor one account and disparage another, one loses the Buddha's own skillful means and brings ruin upon oneself; wishing, instead, to seek the general, common path, one instead ends up choked and blocked by one's own contrivance. Here, then, the distinct teaching's own stages are clarified, its four gates giving differing accounts, various and unalike — yet, though crisscrossing like the paths and furrows of a field, their ultimate direction remains one and the same. This land may not yet possess many treatises of its own, but the four gates discussed earlier already allow this to be inferred. Should the shared teaching speak of various different stages, one knows they are, alike, the very same real truth; should the distinct teaching speak of various different stages, one knows they are, alike, the very same middle way. The sūtra says: "Though I speak of every kind of path, in truth it is all for the sake of the one vehicle alone"; and, "Whatever Dharma is spoken, it all, without exception, arrives at the very ground of omniscient wisdom." Grasping this sense, doubt and suspicion are easily put to rest, and no contention arises at all. Above, in the treatment of breaking through habituated thought, the various stages have already been briefly explained — should one wish to know them in detail, one may go there to look into it accordingly.

Further, there are, here, ten senses that bring the Buddha's own Dharma into thorough accord. First, clarifying principle itself, quiescent, cut off, utterly beyond all grasping, inconceivable — this is precisely the Four Noble Truths, the three, the two, the one, and the none, following sentiment and wisdom variously, at times opened out, at times gathered together. Should one recognize this sense, the principle of the provisional and the real illuminates itself with perfect clarity. Second, the very framework and skeleton of the teaching-gates, standing coiled and firm, encompassing the esoteric and the exoteric, distinguishing the greater from the lesser as clearly as the Jing and Wei rivers — this is precisely the gradual, the sudden, the indeterminate, the secret, and the Tripiṭaka, shared, distinct, and perfect teachings. Grasping this sense, the opening and gathering of the verbal teaching, and the very path of transformation itself, may both be known. Third, apparent contradictions between sūtra and treatise, where word and sense seem to conflict with one another — these cannot be reconciled through mere sentiment, nor resolved through mere broad learning alone. Clinging disputes over this have persisted, unresolved, across the generations since antiquity; but should one grasp the sense of the four siddhāntas, every knot and obstruction opens and dissolves, every fragment held within one's own breast is freed and cast loose at will, and one is no longer confused by this account or doubtful of that one. Fourth, should one recognize that mistaken clinging gives rise to blockage and attachment, one skillfully breaks through it entirely, leaving nothing behind. Pursuing the single, compound, complete, and wordless views to their very limit, what breaks through and what is broken through — what, in the end, is actually gained by any of it? Fifth, drawing together the correct Dharma-gate, matched precisely against the proper stage of practice — cultivation has its own skillful means, and realization has its own graduated distinctions. The provisional and the real, the greater and the lesser, the worthy and the sage, none confused with one another — from where, then, could the offense of overweening pride possibly arise? Sixth, moving through a single Dharma-gate freely, both horizontally and vertically, without any obstruction at all, its own thread and sequence woven together, diligently forming a coherent whole. Seventh, opening chapters and dividing sections, each link connected to the next in proper succession, arising in a manner both engaging and clear. Eighth, glossing and explaining the sūtra's own text, its phrasing graceful and refined — applying every method described above together, resolving each passage according to its own wording, so that sense and text accord with one another precisely. Ninth, translating between Sanskrit and Chinese, thoroughly conversant with both names and numerical categories, so that regional dialect never obstructs understanding. Tenth, taking each and every phrase and verse exactly as one has heard it and cultivating it in practice, bringing it into the mind to form actual contemplation. Contemplation, in accord with the sūtra, is thereby validated by it; validating the mind through the very contemplation one forms, not merely reckoning up another's own treasure as though it were one's own. It is only translation of names and numerical categories that has not yet had leisure to be broadly explored among these nine senses — and it is precisely this comprehensive command that neither the mundane textual scholar nor the mere phenomenal meditation-teacher shares. A meditation teacher of the ordinary kind possesses only the single sense of contemplating the mind, and even this, whether shallow or counterfeit, while the remaining nine are entirely absent. This is no empty claim — future worthies with discerning eyes will bear witness to it and know it for themselves. Knowing one's own stage is, itself, one among these ten senses.

As for the perfect teaching's own stages, this ought properly to be explained at length within the context of the bodhisattva's own object of contemplation; but since that discussion belongs to realization, while what is at issue here is cultivation, only a brief account is given. The skillful means for cultivating the four kinds of samādhi has already been generally explained above; only the Lotus Sūtra specifically discusses the sixfold daily practice of the five kinds of repentance as a further, additional skillful means. Here, then, the very marks of stage are clarified in terms of these five kinds of repentance. First, knowing the ten minds that flow downstream and the ten minds turned upstream, and binding one's own object to true reality itself, is the first repentance. One repents constantly, with no time at which one is not repenting. Yet since the principle of mind is so subtle and concealed, and the application of contemplation still light and sparse, dark evil covering and obstructing it, difficult to open and illuminate all at once — one must, further, mobilize body and speech together to assist in bringing forth mental karma, so as to swiftly bring about correspondence — and this is exactly why the five kinds of repentance are added here. "Repentance" means "openly disclosing one's own former evil"; "remorse" means "reforming what has passed and cultivating what is to come." The Buddha's own wisdom illuminates everywhere; the Buddha's own compassion embraces universally. I cast my own body and speech down before the Buddha's own feet: may the eye of the world bear witness to my own repentance! From beginningless time, I have accumulated boundless offenses obstructing the buddha-path, driven by ignorance, unable to recognize the true and correct; bound within the three realms, stirring body, speech, and mind, giving rise to the ten evil offenses; toward the three treasures, my six kinds of kin, the four modes of birth, and the five destinies, I have done what brings no benefit at all; I have destroyed the resolve of those who had given rise to the mind of the three vehicles, committed the five and the seven heinous transgressions; done these things myself and taught others to do them, and rejoiced upon seeing others do them; and, whether in this present life or manifest hereafter, I shall receive every manner of suffering and affliction for it. Just as the bodhisattvas of the three times repented at the very moment they sought the buddha-path, so, too, do I repent in exactly the same way! I grieve for my own confusion and torpor, for lacking the very eye of wisdom! Uttering these words, voice and tears flow together at once, in the utmost sincerity and truth, the five limbs of the body cast prostrate to the ground — as though a great tree were toppling and crashing down, crushing and breaking apart the very notion of self and other, every evil overturned and utterly destroyed. This is named "repentance."

Entreaty means "beseeching and seeking." The śrāvaka, delivering only himself, simply repents his own offense alone; the bodhisattva, out of compassion for sentient beings, carries out the path for their sake, and hence entreaty is also needed. I know now that even my own offense has not yet been released; sentient beings, not even knowing this, revolve on through kalpa after kalpa. Lacking the power to rescue them myself, I entreat the buddhas of the ten directions. The buddhas, pitying sentient beings, make no distinction between the great and the small among them, and are certain to grant what is asked of them. The Great Treatise clarifies both what is entreated and what is not, and so on accordingly. Entreating the turning of the Dharma-wheel means: urging, demonstrating, and verifying, so that eye, wisdom, illumination, and awakening are all given rise to with respect to the Four Noble Truths — this is named "the threefold turning." Some say: "Entreating the teaching of the three vehicles is itself named 'the threefold turning.'" Should the Buddha teach the Dharma, sentient beings attain the realization of nirvāṇa; and should some not yet attain it, they are, at the very least, granted worldly bliss in the meantime. Should the Buddha grant this universally, then everyone attains peace and security; and, since I myself am included among everyone, my own offense and suffering are thereby removed as well. It is like entreating rain for everyone at once — I myself possess only a small field, yet I, too, receive my own share of its sweet moisture. As for entreating the Buddha to remain in the world: life abides according to karma, and transformation abides according to mind — should the mind cease, transformation, too, is extinguished. I now entreat the Buddha to benefit sentient beings, like a great blazing torch, urging him never to still his own mind of transformation, but to abide long in the world, safely and securely, delivering everyone without exception. This is named "entreaty." Rejoicing means "celebrating another's own good fortune." The Buddha, having already turned the Dharma-wheel three times, sentient beings attain benefit across all three times, and I assist in their own rejoicing over it. Further, I ought to encourage and transform others so that wholesomeness arises within them; and once that wholesomeness arises of itself, this is exactly why I rejoice. I rejoice in the merit and wholesomeness of sentient beings across the three times; in the uncontaminated wholesomeness of the three vehicles across the three times; and in every wholesomeness of every buddha across the three times, from the very first arising of the resolve all the way through to entering final nirvāṇa — in all of this, without exception, I rejoice, and I teach others to rejoice as well. It is like the buyer of incense, the seller of incense, and a bystander nearby, all three alike scented by it — the one who transforms, the one transformed, and the one who rejoices in it, all three forms of wholesomeness alike, in equal measure. Contemplating sentient beings' own affliction, one ought to feel deep grief and sorrow for them; contemplating sentient beings' own wholesomeness, one ought to show them the greatest reverence, the mind never once regarding them lightly. Deeply knowing that sentient beings are complete with the correct cause, the conditional cause, and the revealing cause of buddha-nature, then, even should this not yet have manifested, it is bound, in time, to arise — just as the poison-drum, whether heard from near or far, is certain to bring death to whoever hears it, one reveres them exactly as one would revere a buddha. Why is this? Because the buddhas of the future are boundless in number. This is the deep sense of rejoicing itself. The Lotus Sūtra speaks of rejoicing in the Dharma; the Larger Sūtra speaks of rejoicing in the person — person and Dharma are simply raised interchangeably here.

Dedication means dedicating every wholesomeness toward bodhi itself. The merit of every worthy and sage is vast and expansive, and my own rejoicing here is, correspondingly, vast in its own merit as well. Should sentient beings lack any wholesomeness of their own, I bestow wholesomeness upon them; and, having bestowed it upon sentient beings, I direct it precisely toward bodhi. It is like sound turned back through a horn, its echo carrying all the farther for it — dedication, likewise, brings about the greatest benefit. As for correct dedication: severing the path of the three realms, extinguishing every idle discourse, drying up the mire of affliction, clearing away the thorny thicket, casting off the heavy burden one carries — not grasping, not conceiving, not seeing, not attaining, not discriminating at all. That which dedicates, and that toward which it is dedicated — every dharma exists only through the coming-together of false imagination, and, in truth, no dharma whatsoever ever actually arises. There is no past, present, or future arising; there is no past, present, or future ceasing — every dharma is exactly like this. I accord with every dharma in this way, rejoicing and dedicating accordingly, exactly as known, seen, and sanctioned by the buddhas of the three times. This is named "the genuine and correct dedication," also named "the supreme and complete great dedication." Thus one neither slanders the Buddha, incurs any fault, remains bound by anything, is poisoned by anything, nor suffers any loss whatsoever. And this holds not only for dedication itself — the first three repentances, and the final one as well, proceed in exactly the same way. The Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā says: "Offenses ought to be repented in exactly this way; entreaty and rejoicing bring merit in exactly this way; dedicate this, then, toward bodhi itself." Raising the vow is the very act of solemn oath itself. It is like granting a person some possession — should one not divide the deed of grant, the possession remains unsettled; bestowing wholesomeness upon sentient beings, should one not resolve one's own mind firmly, one may fall into regret and retreat afterward, and it is exactly for this reason that the vow is added. Further, without a vow, one is like an ox with no one to drive it, not knowing where it ought to go; the vow, once made, sustains the practice, carrying it through to its very destination. It is also named a dhāraṇī, upholding wholesomeness and warding off evil — like unfired clay meeting fire, becoming thereby fit to hold whatever is placed within it. The two lesser vehicles, their own births exhausted, have no need of such a vow; the bodhisattva, taking birth after birth to transform beings, requires both a general vow and specific vows. The four universal vows are the general vow; every individual wholesome practice and dhāraṇī spoken of in the Ratnagotra scriptures and the Avataṃsaka Sūtra each has its own specific vow. Now, at the place of practice, carrying out this fivefold repentance six times daily, day and night: repentance breaks through the offense of great evil karma; entreaty breaks through the offense of slandering the Dharma; rejoicing breaks through the offense of jealousy; dedication breaks through the offense of grasping at every mode of existence. According with the vow of emptiness and marklessness, the merit thereby attained cannot be measured or limited at all — even calculation and reckoning could never fully express it. Should one be able to diligently carry out the skillful means of these five kinds of repentance, assisting in opening the very gate of contemplation, the single mind's own three truths open up suddenly, luminous and clear, like standing before a clean mirror that reflects every form entirely; within a single thought-moment, perfect understanding is accomplished, manifest of itself without any exertion of effort at all, correct faith firm and resolute, moved by nothing whatsoever. This is named "the mind of deep faith and rejoicing," and is precisely the stage of the first grade of disciple.

The "Chapter on Distinguishing Merit" says: "Should there be sentient beings who, hearing that the Buddha's own life-span is so vast and far-reaching, are able to give rise to even a single thought-moment's faith and understanding, the merit thereby attained cannot be measured or limited at all, able to give rise to the Tathāgata's own unsurpassed wisdom. Should one hear this sūtra and not disparage it, giving rise to a mind of rejoicing instead, one should know this to already be the mark of deep faith and understanding." This is precisely the text for the first grade. Further, cultivating the fivefold repentance through the perfect understanding of contemplating the mind, and adding, further, reading and reciting the sūtra, so that its excellent words and sublime meaning meet and correspond with the mind itself, like oil helping a flame — at this point, the mind's own contemplation grows still further luminous, and this is named "the second grade." The text says: "How much more so, then, for one who reads, recites, receives, and upholds it — such a person is thereby one who carries the Tathāgata upon his own head." Further, cultivating the fivefold repentance with an even more excellent mind, having advanced through this grade, and adding, further, the teaching of the Dharma to others, turning one's own inward understanding outward to guide and benefit others — and, on account of this broad deliverance of others, the merit of transformation returns to oneself as well, the mind turning further still, doubly excelling what came before — this is named "the third grade." The text says: "Should there be one who receives, upholds, reads, recites, and expounds it for others, copies it himself or teaches others to copy it, and makes offerings to the sūtra-scroll itself, he need not, further, erect stūpas or temples, or make offerings to the assembly of monks." Further, cultivating the fivefold repentance with an ever more advancing mind, and combining this with the cultivation of the six pāramitās — through the power of this merit, doubly assisting the contemplating mind, advancing yet one further degree in depth — this is named "the fourth grade." The text says: "How much more so, then, should there be a person able to uphold this sūtra while also practicing the six pāramitās — his own merit is most excellent, boundless, without limit, like empty space itself, reaching all the way to the wisdom of all modes." Further, with this same mind, cultivating the fivefold repentance while directly cultivating the six pāramitās, practicing for oneself and transforming others at once, phenomenal practice and contemplative principle both complete, the mind's own contemplation unobstructed, surpassing what came before to a degree beyond all comparison — this is named "the fifth grade." The text says: "Able to expound this Dharma to others in every manner of way, purely upholding the precepts, patient and free of anger, constantly valuing seated meditation, diligent and courageous, of sharp faculty and wisdom — one should know that such a person has already drawn near to the very seat of enlightenment, close to the threefold bodhi itself." If this is so, then the stage of the five grades lies before the ten degrees of faith. According to the Contemplation of Samantabhadra Sūtra, the five grades are themselves taken as the five minds of the ten degrees of faith. Yet the Buddha's own intent is difficult to fathom fully, meeting each capacity with a differing account — borrowing this simply to open up understanding, why should one labor so bitterly over such disputes? Furthermore, this entire chapter is contemplating the object of the aggregates, elements, and entries, and so the stages, too, must be judged specifically in terms of the aggregates and entries themselves. Namely: the aggregates and entries of the dark kind are the stage of the three evil destinies; the aggregates and entries of the bright kind are the stage of the three wholesome destinies; the aggregates and entries of skillful means are the resembling stage of the Hīnayāna; the uncontaminated aggregates, elements, and entries are the genuine stage of the two lesser vehicles; the transformational aggregates, elements, and entries are the stage of the five kinds of person; and the aggregates, elements, and entries of the Dharma-nature's own constant form, constant feeling, perception, formation, and consciousness are the stage of buddhahood itself, and so on accordingly. Further, once the provisionally named five grades have grown ever more luminous and pure, opening freely into the wisdom of hearing, penetrating through without obstruction, deep faith unmoved by anything at all — this is precisely the mind of faith itself. Proceeding in this same sequence — mindfulness, diligence, wisdom, concentration, dhāraṇī, the precepts, guarding, dedication, and vow — the ten degrees of faith complete in full is named "the stage resembling the purification of the six faculties," the four abodes of affliction already exhausted. The Humane Kings Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra says: "The bodhisattva of the ten wholesome ways, giving rise to the great mind, is forever separated from the great ocean-wheel of suffering across the three realms" — this is exactly that same sense. Next, one enters the first abiding, breaking through ignorance and seeing the buddha-nature directly. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "At the very moment the resolve first arises, one already accomplishes correct awakening, the true nature awakened to not through any other" — this is exactly that same sense. Proceeding in this sequence through the forty-two stages in full, reaching the very culmination of wondrous enlightenment, there is nothing whatsoever excessive or presumptuous in any of it. This is named "knowing one's own stage."

Ninth, bearing with adversity: being able to bear with the very matter of accomplishing the path, unmoved and never retreating — a mind of this kind is named "a great being." From the very beginning of contemplating the aggregates and entries, through to knowing one's own stage, these eight dharmas have already turned obstruction into the opening of wisdom — whether one has not yet entered a grade, or has already entered the first grade, one's spiritual wisdom grows sharp and keen. Like a blade so keen it severs even flying frost the instant it touches anything, the beginning practitioner's own sharpness and cleverness may exceed even this. Without having formally studied, one is already able to understand every sūtra and treatise; surveying another's own commentary, one penetrates directly to the very heart of its doctrine; wishing to explain but a single passage, one's own eloquence proves inexhaustible. Should one hold this treasure and jewel within, concealing one's own understanding and hiding one's own name, quietly and diligently pressing forward, one is certain to enter a grade, or to advance into an even deeper one. Resolve and intent firm and unmoving, incapable of being shifted by anything — this is by far the superior approach. But an awl does not stay hidden within a bag; it is difficult to conceal and easy to let slip into view. Perhaps one sees a lecturer whose teaching fails to accord with principle, or a practitioner whose conduct fails to match the proper track — and, out of compassion, one offers a word of correction, and is at once surrounded by others. Once made to lecture or expound, or urged on for the sake of sentient beings, an inward itch stirs an outward movement, and one speaks a phrase or two of the Dharma, or demonstrates a section or two of meditation; beginning with a single listener, word spreads and gradually widens, until it can no longer be stopped. What one first supposed would be beneficial turns out to benefit others only slightly, while one's own practice is abandoned and diminished — and it is not merely that one's own grade fails to advance, but that the very obstruction of the path rises up all the more! The elephant calf's own strength being slight, its body falls beneath the blade and arrow; scooping up boiling water and pouring it upon ice, one only adds, in the end, to the mass of ice itself. The Daśabhūmika-vibhāṣā names this "the ruined bodhisattva." In the past, there were meditation teachers of Ye and Luo whose fame spread across river and sea alike — wherever they went, crowds gathered like clouds from every direction; wherever they left, hundreds and thousands followed in throngs — yet what benefit, in the end, did all this rumbling commotion actually bring? At the moment of their death, every one of them was filled with regret! The Master of Wujin lamented, saying: "All my life I hoped to enter the bronze-wheel stage, yet I led the assembly far too early, and what I sought was never accomplished." In his own final testament, he wrote simply: "Choose! Choose! Choose! Choose!" This lofty and excellent example, handed down to us, may well serve as our own mirror. Should one's own practice, having reached this point, examine and weigh itself carefully, and find one's own strength of wisdom already robust and strong, one ought indeed to broadly benefit others, like a great elephant leading its own herd. But should this not yet be the case, one ought instead to bear with adversity and continue cultivating samādhi more deeply — once practice is accomplished and one's own strength made manifest, it will not be too late, even then, to transform others. The Great Treatise says: "The bodhisattva takes delivering others as his very own task — why, then, does he dwell alone in the deep mountains, cultivating only himself? Answer: it is like taking medicine to nurse one's own body back to health, so that its constitution may be restored to its own proper task — though the body withdraws far away, the mind never withdraws at all." Once one reaches the purification of the six faculties, this is named "one who serves as the first refuge for others," and whatever Dharma one then teaches may indeed be trusted and accepted. A single voice reaching everywhere at once, and every listener rejoicing to hear it — this is the very stage of transforming others. Should one, at this very point, fail to emerge and teach, then neither the strong bandit nor the soft bandit has any power over one at all — one's own practice, thereby perfected, becomes of genuine use to others as well. The great elephant standing its ground, blade and arrow rendered useless against it; the sunlight illuminating the world, the longest ice melting of itself before it — this, precisely, is the very power of bearing with adversity. Should one be caught by the net of fame and reputation, the cord of gain and support, or the thicket of gathered disciples, moths and worms boring inward while the very branches and leaves are consumed from without — one ought to push these away at the earliest moment, neither accepting them nor clinging to them; and should pushing them away fail to remove them, and one finds oneself instead stuck fast and bound by them, one ought to draw in one's own merit and conceal its very brilliance, feigning derangement to hide what is genuine within, secretly covering over one's own gold and treasure so that no thief may catch sight of it. And should even concealment fail to bring escape, one ought, at once, to depart ten thousand leagues, to some remote and isolated land, where, unknown to anyone, one may swiftly attain the study of the path — as did Guṇavarman, and so on accordingly. Should fame, gain, or disciples come from without to break one's own practice, one recalls these three techniques and grits one's teeth in patient endurance. Though invited a thousand, ten thousand times over, one remains firm and immovable — yield! withdraw! depart! Should affliction, karma, concentration, view, pride, and the rest come from within to break one's own practice, one likewise recalls three techniques: at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle. Even should one's own flesh be butchered and ground to powder, the mind remains undisturbed, unscattered; even should the whole earth press down and crush one, one is not thereby buried beneath its weight. The great wind at the end of the kalpa cannot make it lighter; the coldest ice cannot make it cold; the fiercest blaze cannot make it hot. Holding the mind upright, contemplating correctly — how, then, could one possibly take some slight attainment, some fragment of dhyāna, as cause for delight? How could one, the moment some slight evil appears, immediately take it as cause for worry? Unfired clay is easily piled up in a heap; but a flower shaped from wet clay is difficult to bring to genuine fruit. The Larger Sūtra says: "Boundless numbers of people give rise to the bodhi-mind, and yet, for the most part, fall back into the stage of the two lesser vehicles." For the sake of accomplishing this great task, bearing with adversity is needed all the more. Should one grasp this sense, there is no need even for the remaining nine objects of contemplation; should one not yet fully understand it, this ought to be explained further, at greater length.

Tenth, freedom from attachment to the Dharma: having practiced the nine matters explained above, having passed beyond both internal and external obstruction, one ought thereby to enter the real directly — and should one still fail to enter it, this is on account of a lingering attachment to the very Dharma itself, unable to advance any further. The Abhidharma says: "The dharma of warmth may still regress; but once the five faculties are firmly established, the supreme forbearance brings forth the real directly, and regression is no longer even discussed. Should the dharma of the summit give rise to a mind of attachment, one who ought to enter fails to enter, and instead regresses into the four grave offenses or the five heinous transgressions." Both the shared and distinct teachings alike have this very sense of "falling at the summit." Neither having entered the proper stage, nor yet having fallen back into the two lesser vehicles, the Great Treatise says: "The three samādhis are the resembling stage of the path. Before the real has yet been brought forth, one is prone to a delight that becomes attachment to the very Dharma itself — this is named 'falling at the summit.'" People who practice the path today fall short of even reaching this point by a vast measure, yet, should one reach it, one ought to guard and protect oneself against it with the greatest care. This stage has neither internal nor external obstruction remaining — only attachment to the Dharma itself. This attachment to the Dharma is difficult to sever, and should it linger even briefly, this is no small matter — it is like a sailboat that alternately advances and then stops; the moment it stops, it becomes fixed and stuck in place. And though it may not yet be caught on the sandbar, nor yet moored at the shore, it remains stopped simply because the wind itself has died down. Not being caught on the sandbar is a simile for being free of internal obstruction; the shore is a simile for external obstruction. But giving rise to attachment to the Dharma, with no wind at all to move it onward, neither advancing nor retreating, is exactly what is named "falling at the summit." Should one break through this very attachment to the Dharma, one enters the three gates of liberation, bringing forth the real, the middle way directly — the very body of wisdom one thereby possesses, awakened to not through any other, flows spontaneously into the very ocean of omniscience itself, abiding in the forbearance of the unborn, also named "the forbearance of quiescent cessation." With the Śūraṅgama samādhi, one roams freely in spiritual powers, complete with great wisdom vast as the very ocean itself — whatever merit this brings, only a buddha could ever fully know it. The skillful means for calming-and-contemplation's own advance and pursuit reach, here, exactly this far; the merit of entering and abiding within this stage is not discussed further here, and will be treated again, at greater length, later on.

These ten modes, taken together, are named "the contemplation of the Great Vehicle"; and one who studies this vehicle is named "one who studies the Great Vehicle itself." What, then, is this "Great Vehicle"? As the Lotus Sūtra says: "He bestowed upon each of his own children, equally, a single great cart. This cart was tall and broad, adorned with every kind of jewel, its railings running all around, bells hanging from all four sides. Above it, further, a canopy was spread, likewise adorned with rare and precious jewels of every kind. Jeweled cords were interwoven throughout, hung with garlands of flowers; layered cushions were spread within it, and a crimson pillow set in place. It was drawn by a white ox, fat and sturdy, of great strength, its skin full and lustrous, its very form graceful and fine, possessed of great physical power, its gait even and steady, swift as the wind itself. And, further, a great many attendants accompanied it, guarding it on every side." The Great Vehicle of calming-and-contemplation is exactly the same. Contemplating that thought after thought is nothing other than the true mark of the Dharma-nature itself is named "bestowing, equally, a single great cart." Within each and every mind, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle, is named "bestowing this cart upon each of his own children." Penetrating to the very source of the three truths is named "tall." Gathering in the ten dharma-realms is named "broad." The boundless branches of the path are named "adorned with every kind of jewel." The four right efforts, warding off evil and upholding wholesomeness, together with the vow that sustains this very practice, firm and secure as a nail or clasp, is named "the railings running all around." The eloquence of Dharma and meaning, proclaimed and expounded so as to awaken understanding, is named "bells hanging from all four sides." Compassion covering everywhere, with nothing whatsoever left out or excluded, is named "the canopy spread above." What the branches of the path gather in — the ten powers, the fearlessnesses, and the eighteen dharmas not shared with others — shared with no one else at all, is named "adorned with rare and precious jewels." The four universal vows, the mind resolved never to retreat, is named "jeweled cords interwoven throughout." The four means of embrace, gathering in every being, with nothing whatsoever left undelighted, is named "hung with garlands of flowers." Every dhyāna and samādhi, giving rise to the six spiritual powers, is named "layered cushions spread within." The four gates converging upon their single source, every practice brought finally to rest, is named "a crimson pillow set in place." The wisdom of the four foundations of mindfulness, breaking through the very darkness of the eight inversions, is named "drawn by a white ox." The four right efforts increasing the two forms of wholesomeness is named "fat and sturdy, of great strength." Warding off and severing the two evils, these two evils exhausted and purified entirely, is exactly why it is said, "its skin full and lustrous." The four bases of supernormal power, the four eloquences functioning with perfect freedom, is named "its very form graceful and fine." The five faculties, coiled firm and unable to be shifted, is named "physical power." The five powers, growing in strength and warding off every unwholesome dharma, is named "great strength." The seven factors of awakening, discriminating and selecting, is named "its gait." The eightfold path, calm and secure, is named "even and steady." Auxiliary remedies broadly gathering in every dharma is named "a great many attendants accompanying it." Breaking through attachment to the Dharma and ignorance, flowing into the very ocean of omniscience, bringing forth the real with utmost swiftness, is named "swift as the wind itself." Carrying all of his own children along, in joyful and delightful play. This contemplation of the Great Vehicle, its every Dharma-gate complete with its own measure, accords exactly with that very sūtra passage — this is exactly why it is named "the contemplation of the Great Vehicle."

Furthermore, since every dharma is entirely the one vehicle, anyone possessing a mind at all is already complete with this very sublime dharma — this is named "the vehicle in principle." Should the Tathāgata not speak of it, one could never come to know it; hearing this teaching and receiving it joyfully with one's own head bowed is "the vehicle in name." On account of hearing this very name, one cultivates practice according to the teaching, entering the stage of the five grades — this is named "the vehicle in contemplative practice." Attaining the purification of the six faculties is named "the vehicle in resemblance." Emerging from the three realms, arriving and abiding within omniscience itself — and yet this, too, is not truly abiding — should one enter the first abiding, and, further, all the way through the ten abidings, one attains "the vehicle in reality," roaming through the eastern quarter. The ten practices roam the southern quarter; the ten dedications roam the western quarter; the ten grounds roam the northern quarter. Circling round without limit, one attains emptiness and comes to rest, resting at the very center — this is wondrous enlightenment itself. Arriving directly at the very seat of enlightenment is exactly this same sense. People today suppose merely that abandoning evil and grasping emptiness alone constitutes the Great Vehicle — yet this emptiness alone still fails to escape the evil of the sixty-two views, both single and compound — how, then, could this possibly qualify to move forward as any kind of vehicle at all? Even should one borrow the name "vehicle" for it, it would still be merely a bald, bare vehicle, without any Dharma-gate complete with its own measure at all. The great city of the correct Dharma, the vajra treasury itself, complete and lacking nothing whatsoever — where, then, could it possibly be absent? How, then, could it possibly tolerate mere bald emptiness alone? Should one settle for merely this, one rides instead the vehicle of deviant view, entering a perilous and evil path — this is nothing but a broken-down donkey cart, and so on accordingly.

Seated contemplation of the aggregates and entries has already been explained above. As for extending contemplation to the aggregates and elements across every activity and object encountered: "activity" refers to the six kinds of action; "object" refers to the six sense-objects. The Great Treatise says: "Where there is action, an agent arises; where there is a sense-object, a recipient arises." This is as explained within the treatment of "following one's own intent." The Pratyutpanna Samādhi Sūtra practices constant walking; the Lotus Sūtra and the Vaipulya sūtras practice half-walking; and sweeping, cleaning, and manual labor of every kind all involve movement — "following one's own intent" involves the most of all. Should one fail to cultivate contemplation within the very midst of activity itself, how could one possibly correspond swiftly with the principle of the path at all? Its own mark shall be briefly distinguished here, following the same pattern as before, in ten parts. As for the first, the object to be contemplated: whether lifting the foot or setting it down, the foot itself is a form-dharma, form set into motion by the mind, moving from here to there — this mind depending upon form is precisely the aggregate of form; receiving and experiencing this very activity is the aggregate of feeling; calculating a self with respect to this activity is the aggregate of perception; whether the activity is wholesome or unwholesome is the aggregate of formation; and the very mind present within this activity is the aggregate of consciousness. The dust-object of activity meeting the mind gives rise, correspondingly, to the elements and entries; and so on, all the way through, the eye and form, mind and dharmas, proceed in exactly the same way. The aggregates, elements, and entries are, in the very interval between lifting and setting down the foot, already complete in full. This very aggregate-and-entry is itself already ignorance united with the condition of activity, giving rise to the aggregates, elements, and entries present within that very activity. The aggregates, elements, and entries are no different from ignorance itself; ignorance is itself already the Dharma-nature; the Dharma-nature is itself already the dharma-realm — every dharma converges upon this very activity, and this convergence goes no further. One instance of the aggregates, elements, and entries is every instance of them; one and many, neither one nor many, in no way obstructing one another. This is named "the inconceivable object found within activity itself." Realizing this object, compassion arises together with it, grieving for one's own confusion and torpor, having, across countless kalpas, constantly been deceived and deluded by the very aggregates and entries themselves — only now beginning to recognize that every sentient being is, without exception, the one vehicle. Drunken, inverted understanding is deeply to be pitied, and one vows to break through ignorance and become a refuge for every being. Settling the mind through calming and contemplation, one illuminates it in stillness. Once the mind is thereby settled, one comprehensively breaks through the obstruction of the three truths found in views, habituated thought, unknowing, and ignorance, both horizontally and vertically exhausted entirely. Further, one skillfully distinguishes blockage from passage, never once, in the midst of this, mistaking the very medicine itself for a further illness. One skillfully knows the branches of the path, the withering and flourishing foundations of mindfulness, entering parinirvāṇa at the very midpoint between the twin trees. Further, one skillfully knows the auxiliary remedies of the six pāramitās found within this very activity, assisting in opening the gate of nirvāṇa. One deeply recognizes one's own stage, knowing that this very activity of mine is not yet equal to that of the sages above, advancing in cultivation with humility and diligence, without ever ceasing. Able, within this very activity, to subdue fame and gain from without, and to subdue the three obstructions from within, one bears with adversity, unmoved. Attachment and clinging to the Dharma itself, one never allows to become "falling at the summit." These ten dharmas accomplished, one enters, in this very life, the bronze-wheel stage, realizing the forbearance of the unborn. One attains the single great cart, tall and broad, adorned and pure, decorated with every kind of jewel, swift as the wind itself, joyful and delightful in its play. Riding this very jeweled vehicle, one arrives directly at the seat of enlightenment. This is contemplation formed specifically in terms of the very condition of activity, treating the husk of ignorance and revealing the very rice-grain of the Dharma-nature within it. From the lifting of a single foot to its setting down, one arrives directly at the very seat of enlightenment, complete with the Buddha's own Dharma in full. Understood following the same pattern as before. As it is for the activity of walking, so it is, following the same pattern, for standing, sitting, lying down, speaking, and working as well. The three samādhis have no method involving lying down, though "following one's own intent" does include it. In the past, a certain king awakened to pratyekabuddha-hood while lying down — one should therefore know that contemplative practice can indeed be attained even while lying down, and so on accordingly.

As for the objects encountered: with respect to the eye, one calculates a self, claiming "I am able to receive this" — a single sense-object already yields three such claims, and, gathered together, eighteen instances of "receiving" result. The eye seeing form already involves the five aggregates, the three realms, and two entries — understood following the same pattern as before. The Sūtra on the Marks of Maitreya's Skeleton, further, says: "In a single thought-moment of seeing form, there are three hundred koṭis of arisings and cessations of the five aggregates; and each and every one of these five aggregates is itself already a sentient being." If this is so, then at the very moment the eye meets form, how could this possibly stop short at merely the five aggregates, the three realms, and two entries alone? Should one contemplate the eye and form in this manner alone, this is named "diminished cultivation," not the Great Vehicle. Should one contemplate that the eye and form, with respect to every tathāgata's own constancy, are cultivated completely without deficiency, clearly recognizing the very gate of entry, then the single thought-moment in which eye and form arise is itself already the dharma-realm, complete with every dharma, at once empty, at once provisional, at once the middle. Sought through the four propositions, it cannot be found — hence it is said, "at once empty." As with the form of Maitreya's own marks, a single thought-moment already containing three hundred koṭis of arisings and cessations of the five aggregates, and so on, all the way through to the form of the first ground and the tenth ground's own marks, proceeding in exactly the same way; and feeling, perception, formation, and consciousness likewise proceed in exactly the same way. Further, the non-Buddhist paths, striking a skull to produce a sound, are able to discern by listening alone the very place of that being's rebirth, knowing boundless matters from it; and smell, taste, and touch proceed in exactly the same way. Hence it is said, "at once the provisional." The provisional is not fixedly the provisional, and emptiness is not fixedly emptiness — hence it is "neither empty nor provisional." Should the single dharma of the eye be neither empty nor provisional, then every dharma is neither empty nor provisional. Just like empty space itself, existence and nonexistence are forever quiescent within it; and just like the sun and moon, there is no darkness they fail to illuminate. Though free of both emptiness and the provisional, illuminating both emptiness and the provisional at once — illuminating the coarse form born of causes and conditions is named "the fleshly eye"; illuminating the subtle form born of causes and conditions is named "the divine eye"; illuminating the emptiness of form born of causes and conditions is named "the eye of wisdom"; illuminating the provisional nature of form born of causes and conditions is named "the Dharma-eye"; illuminating the middle of form born of causes and conditions is named "the buddha-eye." As for these five eyes being complete within a single mind: this is neither the ordinary being's own eye of flesh, blood, and pus, nor the divine eye attained by the heavenly beings, nor the two lesser vehicles' own eye of wisdom sunk in emptiness, nor even the bodhisattva's own eye of discrimination — it is, rather, that the buddha-eye alone is complete with all five powers at once, just as every stream, flowing into the ocean, loses its own former name. Hence the Buddha asked Subhūti: "Does the Tathāgata possess the five eyes?" And the answer was given: "He does." Every one of them is declared to belong to the Tathāgata himself — what relevance could this possibly have to the eye of the ordinary being or the two lesser vehicles at all? The Sūtra of Invoking Avalokiteśvara says: "The five eyes, complete in full, accomplish bodhi itself." Taking the three contemplations as a single mind is named "cultivation without deficiency"; taking a single eye as already complete with all five powers is named "seeing with perfect clarity the very gate of entry," and this, too, is the perfect realization itself. Free and unobstructed within and without the eye, entering correct absorption through the eye, the samādhi of the nose arises through the very entry of the nose. Though moving, it remains quiescent; being quiescent does not obstruct its movement. Though quiescent, it moves; movement does not obstruct its quiescence. Though seeing, it does not see; not seeing, it yet sees — this alone is properly named "seeing with perfect clarity the very gate of entry." Question: the Buddha, complete with the five eyes, ought thereby to illuminate five distinct objects. Yet the sūtra says: "With my own five eyes I do not see even the three accumulations at all — how, then, could sentient beings, deranged and foolish, sightless as they are, still claim to see anything?" And it further says: "Seeing form is equal to blindness itself." Since it is already equal to blindness, how, then, could one possibly see either coarse or subtle form at all? Answer: every one of the five objects is, at root, obscure to true reality itself, and true reality itself cannot be seen at all; and it is precisely because it cannot be seen that it is likened to blindness. Yet, though it cannot be seen, seeing itself suffers no diminishment whatsoever; the five eyes penetrate through completely, and every object becomes perfectly clear. Though five kinds of illumination are spoken of, need illumination necessarily possess anything at all? And though likened to blindness, need blindness necessarily lack anything at all? The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "Coming without the mark of coming; seeing without the mark of seeing" — this is exactly that same sense. This is the inconceivable object itself. My own eye, and the eye of every sentient being, are without duality, without distinction — how, then, could sentient beings possibly fail to perceive this, fail to know it? At once, compassion arises, and one vows to deliver them. Wishing to fulfill this very vow, settling the mind through calming and contemplation, one is able, by means of calming-and-contemplation, to comprehensively break through every dharma. Within the very eye and form, clearly distinguishing blockage from passage, unlike that mere worm's own trail. Within the very aggregate of the eye, cultivating the four foundations of mindfulness, neither pure nor impure, both withering and flourishing relinquished at once, one enters nirvāṇa. Studying every auxiliary remedy, one assists in opening the three gates of liberation. Clearly recognizing the six identities, one never gives rise to any excessive or presumptuous claim. What I myself contemplate as "the eye," though complete with the five eyes, remains, for now, merely a name, merely contemplative practice alone. Should one gradually see beyond obstruction, later seeing the ten directions, as in the Contemplation of Samantabhadra Sūtra; or suddenly see the great chiliocosm all at once, as did Sadāparibhūta — whether this seeing comes gradually or suddenly, the six faculties functioning interchangeably, I myself have not yet ascended to either of these — I ought not, therefore, give rise to any pride over it, but gradually, with humility, press onward in diligent practice. Should merit be established and reputation made manifest, one ought to bear with every obstruction, within and without, as steady as Mount Sumeru itself. Should attachment to the Dharma fail to arise, there is then no lingering obstruction left at all, and, swift as the wind, one realizes the true and genuine eye directly. Riding this single great cart, one arrives directly at the very seat of enlightenment. Should one attain entry by way of the eye, one, for the most part, carries out the deeds of a buddha broadly by way of the eye, constantly emitting golden light that illuminates everything. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "There are certain buddha-lands that carry out the deeds of a buddha by means of light alone." As it is for this single instance of the eye and form, so it is, likewise, for the remaining two forms of "receiving"; and so it is, likewise, for the remaining five faculties, five sense-objects, and fifteen further instances of "receiving." Explained at length exactly as before. Taking the very sense already given here and extending it into each of the six faculties, applying it accordingly — one need only ensure that affliction is thereby broken through, without being confined to any fixed formula at all. Should one attain the great cart by way of the ear, one, for the most part, carries out the deeds of a buddha by means of sound; by way of the nose, by means of fragrance; by way of the tongue, by means of flavor; by way of the body, by means of heavenly garments; and by way of the mind, by means of quiescent cessation. The deeds of a buddha carried out through any single faculty pervade every other faculty in turn, skillful means benefiting beings, the occasion differing from case to case, and yet, in every case, causing sentient beings to attain the very bliss of the ultimate, and so on accordingly.

Should one be able to practice diligently in exactly this manner, one is certain not to pass one's own life in vain. Yet should one hear this and fail to put it into practice, one is like the black serpent hoarding a jewel — what benefit could this possibly bring even a great python? Here, then, three similes are offered to illustrate what is gained and what is lost. Take an ordinary man of solitary courage, who trains himself with only a single blade, a single arrow, defeating one bandit, then two, and is thereby granted a small reward of gold or silver, sufficient to support a single wife and child. Such a person merely sharpens his own weapon, charging ahead into battle, wagering his very life for mere payment — what need has he for any broad knowledge of the art of war at all? But should one wish to serve an entire kingdom — the fermenting of wine, the building of boats, the seasoning of food, the timing of the rains — one must be thoroughly skilled in both civil and military affairs, planning strategy from within the very command-tent itself, repelling the enemy from ten thousand leagues away. What one has studied runs deep, and what one thereby breaks through is correspondingly great; the reward one attains is correspondingly weighty, and the benefit that follows correspondingly vast. Yet should one know this and fail to apply it, or apply it only to be repeatedly defeated, one cannot even save oneself — how, then, could one's own beneficial influence possibly reach others at all? One who studies meditative contemplation is exactly the same. Knowing only a single dharma, whether calming or contemplation alone, intending merely to break through some minor evil, stilling the mind to practice the path, attaining some slight measure of meditative concentration, gathering a small circle of disciples, and considering this already sufficient — this is no different from that solitary soldier's own single combat. Should one wish, instead, to become a great meditation-master, breaking through great affliction, manifesting boundless wholesome dharmas, benefiting boundless conditions and beings, one ought to study the ten modes of calming-and-contemplation, penetrating thoroughly to their very intent, corresponding in actual practice with the six conditions and six forms of receiving encountered in daily life. Should affliction suddenly arise, contemplation is immediately brought to bear upon it; contemplation surpassing the very affliction it observes, courageous and capable of the most difficult tasks, one thereby loosens the topknot and retrieves the very jewel hidden within it. But should one understand this and fail to apply it, or apply it wrongly, thereby instead becoming a servant to one's own deluded mind, how could the path ever possibly be mastered? It is also like a rustic folk-healer, versed in only a single remedy, able to save but a single patient, receiving in return only a single portion of dried meat — what need has he to study the whole of Shennong's own materia medica at all? But should one wish to become a great physician, surveying every remedy without exception, broadly treating every illness, refining one's own diagnostic pulse-reading again and again, applying and verifying one's own methods time after time, the benefit and rescue thereby brought about is vast and far-reaching indeed. One who studies meditation is exactly the same. Devoted exclusively to a single method alone, though this may indeed remove a given affliction at that particular moment, bringing only a slight, momentary benefit, this is, in the end, not the intent of the great and comprehensive path at all, and is likewise unable to break through affliction and enter the forbearance of the unborn. Even the finest medicine, if not taken according to its proper prescription, could never actually cure the illness at all. Reading and reciting the treatise on calming-and-contemplation may be exceedingly sharp and keen, yet, should the mind fail to put it into actual practice, the unborn will, in the end, never manifest before one at all. Further, it is like a scholar who wishes only to answer a single question, showing off for a single moment — what need has he, then, for any broad study of the sūtras and treatises at all? But should one wish to become a true master of the Dharma, one must be thoroughly skilled across every rival school of doctrine. Though one's own understanding may run deep in certain areas, should one never once have faced a genuine audience, one remains timid and weak, unable to bear the burden of actual exchange. But should one be entirely free of such timidity and fear, meeting every occasion with a hundred different turns, answering every manner of question, however far it ranges, with an answer suited to no fixed formula at all — this alone is a true master of the Dharma. One who practices contemplation is exactly the same. Should contemplative practice be genuinely clear and luminous, one is able, in every activity, meeting every object encountered, to put it to actual use at every turn; but should this not be so, how could the very army of Māra ever possibly be defeated? How could the grave illness of affliction ever possibly be removed? How could the profound meaning of the Dharma-nature ever possibly be made manifest? Should these three matters remain unaccomplished, one merely toils and struggles in vain, remaining nothing more than an ordinary being caught in birth-and-death — this is not, in any way, the skillful means of studying the path at all.