The Life and Awakening of Huineng

At that time the Great Master came to Baolin Temple. Wei Ju, the prefect of Shaozhou, together with his officials, entered the mountain to invite the Master out to the lecture hall of Dafan Temple in the city, to open the causes and conditions for the assembly and teach the Dharma. When the Master ascended his seat, more than thirty officials, more than thirty Confucian scholars, and over a thousand monks, nuns, and laypeople all together bowed in homage, wishing to hear the essentials of the Dharma. The Great Master told the assembly: "Good friends! The self-nature of bodhi is fundamentally pure — simply use this mind, and you go straight to buddhahood. Good friends, listen now to Huineng's own course, the circumstances of how I attained the Dharma. My late father's family register was in Fanyang; demoted, he was banished to Lingnan, where he became a commoner of Xinzhou. My life was already unfortunate, and then my father died young. My aged mother and I, left alone, moved to Nanhai, where in poverty and hardship I sold firewood in the market. One day a customer bought firewood from me and had me deliver it to his inn. He took the wood and paid me, and as I went back out the door I saw another man reciting a sūtra. The instant I heard the words of that sūtra my mind opened to understanding, and I asked him, 'What sūtra are you reciting?' He said, 'The Diamond Sūtra.' I asked further, 'Where have you come from, that you carry and recite this sūtra?' He said, 'I have come from Dongchan Temple in Huangmei county, Qizhou. That temple is where the Fifth Patriarch, the Great Master Hongren, presides and teaches; his disciples number over a thousand. I went there to pay my respects and to hear this sūtra. The Great Master constantly urges monks and laypeople alike: simply uphold the Diamond Sūtra, and you will see your own nature and go straight to buddhahood.' Hearing this, I knew I had a connection from past lives, and that same man gave me ten taels of silver to provide for my mother's clothing and food, and told me to go to Huangmei to pay my respects to the Fifth Patriarch. "Once I had settled my mother's affairs, I took my leave at once. In less than thirty days I reached Huangmei and paid my respects to the Fifth Patriarch. The Patriarch asked me, 'Where are you from, and what are you seeking?' I answered, 'Your disciple is a commoner of Xinzhou in Lingnan. I have come from far away only to pay respects to the master — I seek only to become a buddha, nothing else.' The Patriarch said, 'You are a man of Lingnan, and a barbarian besides — how could you possibly become a buddha?' I said, 'Among people there may be north and south, but in buddha-nature there is no north and south. This barbarian's body is not the same as the venerable monk's, but what difference could there be in our buddha-nature?' The Fifth Patriarch wished to say more to me, but seeing the crowd of disciples all around, he simply had me join the others at their labor. I said, 'Huineng would tell the venerable monk: my own mind constantly gives rise to wisdom, and does not depart from its own self-nature — this is itself a field of merit. I do not know what labor the venerable monk would have me do?' The Patriarch said, 'This barbarian's faculties are very sharp! Say no more — go to the threshing shed.' I withdrew to the rear courtyard, where a lay attendant put me to splitting firewood and treading the pestle. Eight months and more went by like this. One day the Patriarch suddenly came upon me and said, 'I have been thinking your understanding could be put to use, but I feared wicked people might harm you, and so I have not spoken with you. Did you know this?' I said, 'Your disciple also understood the master's intent, and for that reason I have not dared go before the hall, so that no one would notice.' "One day the Patriarch called all his disciples together and said: 'I say to you — for people of this world, the matter of birth and death is great. All of you spend your days seeking only a field of merit, and do not seek to escape the bitter sea of birth and death. If your own self-nature is deluded, how can any merit save you? Go now, each of you, and look into your own wisdom; take the nature of prajñā in your own fundamental mind, and each compose a verse, to bring and show me. If one of you has awakened to the great meaning, I will hand over the robe and the Dharma, making that one the Sixth Patriarch. Go at once, with all speed — do not delay. To deliberate over it is of no use at all; a person who has seen their own nature must see it the instant they are spoken to. Even one who could see it at the height of battle, sword in hand, could see it this way.' Having received this charge, the assembly withdrew and said to one another: 'There is no need for the rest of us to purify our minds and rack our wits composing a verse to present to the venerable monk — what good would it do? Head Monk Shenxiu is our teaching instructor now; the Dharma is certain to go to him. For the rest of us to compose verses out of vanity would only be a waste of effort.' Hearing this, everyone else set their minds at rest and said together, 'From now on we will simply rely on Master Shenxiu — why trouble ourselves to compose a verse?'"

Shenxiu thought to himself: "The others are not presenting verses because I am their teaching instructor. I must compose a verse and present it to the venerable monk — if I do not, how will the venerable monk know the depth of understanding in my mind? If my intention in presenting a verse is to seek the Dharma, that is good; if it is to seek the patriarch's seat, that is not — how would that differ from an ordinary mind seizing the sage's own place? But if I do not present a verse, I will never obtain the Dharma at all. A hard case indeed! A hard case indeed!" In front of the Fifth Patriarch's hall there were three bays of covered corridor, where the court painter Lu Zhen had been engaged to paint a scene from the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra and a chart of the Fifth Patriarch's own lineage, to be preserved and venerated. Once Shenxiu had composed his verse, he tried again and again to present it, but each time he walked to the hall his mind grew confused and sweat broke out over his whole body, and he could not bring himself to present it — over four days, thirteen separate times, he could not present the verse. Shenxiu then thought: "Better to write it on the corridor wall, and let the venerable monk see it for himself. If he suddenly says it is good, I will come forward and bow, and say it was written by me; if he says it will not do, then I will have wasted these several years in the mountains, receiving people's homage for nothing — what more is there to cultivate?" That night, at the third watch, without letting anyone know, he took a lamp himself and wrote his verse on the wall of the south corridor, presenting what his own mind had seen. The verse read: "The body is the bodhi tree, the mind like a bright mirror's stand; diligently wipe it clean at all hours, and let no dust ever settle." Once Shenxiu had written the verse he returned at once to his room, and no one knew of it. He thought further: "If the Fifth Patriarch sees the verse tomorrow and is pleased, then I have a connection with the Dharma; if he says it will not do, then I myself am deluded, my past karmic hindrances are heavy, and I am not fit to obtain the Dharma." The sage's intent was hard to fathom, and he turned it over in his room, unable to sit or lie easy, until the fifth watch. The Patriarch already knew that Shenxiu had not yet passed through the gate, and had not seen his own nature. At dawn the Patriarch summoned the court painter Lu to come and paint the scene on the south corridor wall, and there suddenly saw the verse. He told the painter: "There is no more need for the painting, after all — you have troubled yourself to come this far for nothing. The sūtra says: 'Every mark that exists is empty and false.' Simply leave this verse instead, for people to recite and uphold. Practicing in accordance with this verse will spare one from falling into the lower paths; practicing in accordance with this verse will bring great benefit." He had his disciples light incense and pay homage before it, and recite it entirely, saying that this alone would let them see their own nature. The disciples recited the verse, all praising it as excellent. At the third watch the Patriarch summoned Shenxiu into the hall and asked him, "Did you write this verse?" Shenxiu said, "It is truly mine. I would not presume to seek the patriarch's seat by it — I only hope the venerable monk, out of compassion, will see whether his disciple has even a little wisdom." The Patriarch said, "In composing this verse you have not seen your own fundamental nature. You have only reached the gate's threshold; you have not yet entered within. To seek unsurpassed bodhi with an understanding such as this, you will never attain it at all. Unsurpassed bodhi must be attained by recognizing your own fundamental mind the instant you are spoken to, and seeing that your own fundamental nature neither arises nor ceases; at every moment, in thought after thought, you must see for yourself that the ten thousand things are without obstruction — one true thing, all things true, every state of the world just as it is of itself. A mind that is just as it is, is itself the real. If you can see in this way, this is itself the self-nature of unsurpassed bodhi. Go now, and think it over for a day or two, then compose another verse and bring it to me; if your verse shows you have entered the gate, I will hand over the robe and the Dharma to you." Shenxiu bowed and withdrew. Several more days passed, and he could not complete a verse; his mind was confused and his spirit uneasy, as though in a dream, finding no peace whether walking or sitting still. Two more days went by. A boy passed by the threshing room, chanting Shenxiu's verse aloud. The moment I heard it, I knew that this verse had not seen its own nature — though I had received no instruction, I already recognized its great meaning. I asked the boy, "What verse is that you are chanting?" The boy said, "You barbarian, don't you know? The Great Master has said that the matter of birth and death for people of this world is great, and that wishing to hand over the robe and the Dharma, he had his disciples compose verses to bring for him to see; whoever awakened to the great meaning would receive the robe and Dharma and become the Sixth Patriarch. Head Monk Shenxiu wrote a Markless Verse on the wall of the south corridor, and the Great Master has had everyone recite it — practicing in accordance with this verse will spare one from falling into the lower paths; practicing in accordance with this verse will bring great benefit." I said, "Elder brother, I have been treading the pestle here for more than eight months and have never once been to the hall. I hope you will lead me to the verse, so that I may pay my respects before it." The boy led me there to bow before it. I said, "Huineng cannot read — I beg you, sir, to read it aloud for me." At that time there was a sub-prefect of Jiangzhou, surnamed Zhang, given name Riyong, who read it out in a loud voice. Having heard it, I then said, "I too have a verse — I beg you, sir, to write it down for me." The sub-prefect said, "You too can compose a verse? This is a remarkable thing indeed." I said to the sub-prefect, "One who wishes to learn unsurpassed bodhi must not look down on a beginner. The very lowest of people may have the very highest wisdom, and the very highest of people may lack all understanding. To look down on another is to commit a boundless, immeasurable transgression." The sub-prefect said, "Just recite your verse, and I will write it down for you. If you attain the Dharma, you must deliver me first — do not forget these words." My verse read: "Bodhi originally has no tree, the bright mirror also has no stand; fundamentally there is not a single thing — where could any dust ever settle?" Once this verse was written, the whole assembly of disciples was astonished, and everyone marveled, saying to one another: "How extraordinary! One must not judge a person by appearance — how could we have made a living bodhisattva labor among us all this time, without knowing it?" Seeing that everyone was startled and amazed, the Patriarch, fearing someone might do me harm, took his shoe and rubbed the verse out, saying, "This one, too, has not yet seen its own nature." Everyone took him at his word.

The next day the Patriarch came secretly to the threshing room and, seeing me with a stone tied at my waist for weight, treading the pestle, said, "One who seeks the Way forgets the body for the sake of the Dharma — is this not just so?" He then asked, "Is the rice ripe yet?" I said, "The rice has long been ripe — it only still lacks sifting." The Patriarch struck the pestle three times with his staff and left. I understood at once what he meant, and at the third watch I entered his room. The Patriarch shielded us both with his robe, so that no one could see, and expounded the Diamond Sūtra to me. When he came to the words "give rise to a mind that dwells nowhere at all," I, hearing this, was greatly awakened, and understood that all the myriad things never depart from self-nature. I then said to the Patriarch, "Who could have known that self-nature is fundamentally pure of itself! Who could have known that self-nature fundamentally neither arises nor ceases! Who could have known that self-nature is fundamentally complete in itself! Who could have known that self-nature is fundamentally without any motion! Who could have known that self-nature can give rise to the ten thousand things!" Knowing that I had awakened to my own fundamental nature, the Patriarch said to me, "Not to recognize one's own fundamental mind is of no benefit in studying the Dharma. If one recognizes one's own fundamental mind and sees one's own fundamental nature, this is what is called a great being, a teacher of gods and humans, a buddha." At the third watch I received the Dharma, and no one else knew of it at all; he then transmitted to me the sudden teaching, along with the robe and bowl, saying, "You are now the Sixth Patriarch. Guard and hold this well in mind, deliver sentient beings widely, and spread this teaching to future generations, letting it never be cut off. Hear my verse: "Where sentient feeling comes, seeds are sown; from the ground of causes, the fruit grows again. Where there is no sentient feeling, there is also no seed; where there is no nature, there is also no arising." The Patriarch further said, "Long ago, when the great teacher Bodhidharma first came to this land, people did not yet trust him, and so he transmitted this robe as a token of good faith, to be handed down from generation to generation; but the Dharma itself is transmitted from mind to mind, and each must awaken and understand it for themselves. From ancient times, every buddha has transmitted only the fundamental substance, and every master has secretly entrusted only the fundamental mind. This robe has become the cause of contention — let it stop with you, and transmit it no further. If you transmit this robe, your life will hang by a thread. You must leave at once, for I fear someone will do you harm." I asked him, "Where should I go?" The Patriarch said, "Where you meet a place called Huai, stop there; where you meet a place called Hui, hide there."

At the third watch, having received the robe and bowl, I said, "Huineng is by origin a man of the south, and has never known these mountain roads — how could I find my way out to the river mouth?" The Fifth Patriarch said, "You need not worry — I myself will see you off." The Patriarch accompanied me all the way to Jiujiang station. There he had me board a boat, and the Fifth Patriarch himself took up the oar and began to row. I said, "Please, venerable monk, be seated — it is fitting that your disciple row." The Patriarch said, "It is fitting that I ferry you across." I said, "While I was deluded, the master ferried me across; now that I have awakened, I must ferry myself across. Though 'ferrying across' is one name, its use differs. Huineng was born in a distant borderland, and my speech is not even correct, yet I have received the Dharma from the master, and now that I have attained awakening, it is only fitting that I ferry myself across by my own self-nature." The Patriarch said, "Just so, just so! From now on the Buddha-dharma will flourish greatly through you. Three years after you leave, I shall pass away. Go well now, and press on toward the south. Do not be quick to speak of this — the Dharma will meet with difficulty in rising." Having taken leave of the Patriarch, I set out southward. Within two months I reached Dayu Ridge. (When the Fifth Patriarch returned, for several days he did not ascend his seat to teach. The assembly, growing suspicious, went and asked him, "Is the venerable monk in any discomfort or trouble?" He said, "No illness — but the robe and Dharma have gone south." They asked, "Who received them?" He said, "One who is capable has obtained them." Only then did the assembly understand.) Several hundred people then set out in pursuit, wishing to seize the robe and bowl. Among them was a monk, laity surname Chen, named Huiming, who had formerly been a general of the fourth rank; rough and forceful by nature, he pursued with all his intent, and was first among the crowd to catch up with me. I set the robe and bowl down on a rock and said, "This robe represents good faith — can it be fought over by force?" I hid myself among the undergrowth. Huiming arrived, but though he tried to lift the robe, he could not move it, and so he called out, "Cultivator! Cultivator! I have come for the Dharma, not for the robe." I then came out and sat on the flat rock. Huiming bowed and said, "I hope the cultivator will teach the Dharma for my sake." I said, "Since you have come for the sake of the Dharma, still every outward condition, and let not a single thought arise. I will teach you." After a long silence, I said, "Not thinking of good, not thinking of evil — at this very moment, what is Superior Ming's own original face?" At these words Huiming was greatly awakened. He asked further, "Besides these secret words and secret meaning just now, is there yet a further secret meaning?" I said, "What I have just told you is not, after all, secret. If you turn the light of your own attention back upon yourself, the secret lies on your own side." Ming said, "Though I was at Huangmei, I never truly understood my own face. Now, receiving your guidance, it is like a person drinking water, who knows for himself whether it is warm or cool. You, the cultivator, are now my own teacher." I said, "If that is so, then you and I share the same teacher at Huangmei — guard and hold this well for yourself." Ming asked further, "Where should I go from here?" I said, "Where you meet a place called Yuan, stop there; where you meet a place called Meng, dwell there." Ming bowed and took his leave. (Returning down the ridge, Ming said to the pursuers, "I climbed to the very summit, and found no trace at all — we must search by another road." The pursuers all took this to be so. Ming later changed his name to Daoming, to avoid using the upper character of the Master's own name.) Afterward I came to Caoxi, but was again pursued by wicked men, and so took refuge among a band of hunters at Sihui, remaining there for fully fifteen years, teaching the Dharma to the hunters as occasion allowed. The hunters always had me watch their nets; whenever I saw a living creature caught in them, I released it every time. At every mealtime, I would set my vegetables to cook alongside their pot of meat. If anyone asked about this, I would answer, "I only eat the vegetables at the edge of the meat."

One day I thought to myself, "Now is the time to spread the Dharma widely — I cannot go on hiding forever." I then came out to Faxing Temple in Guangzhou, where I happened upon Dharma Master Yinzong lecturing on the Nirvāṇa Sūtra. At that time the wind was blowing and a banner was fluttering. One monk said, "The wind is moving." Another monk said, "The banner is moving." They argued back and forth without end. I stepped forward and said, "It is not the wind that moves, and not the banner that moves — it is the minds of you, sirs, that move." The whole assembly was astonished. Yinzong invited me to the seat of honor and questioned me closely on the profound meaning. Seeing that my words were simple and my reasoning sound, and did not rely on the written word, Yinzong said, "This cultivator is surely no ordinary person. I have long heard that the robe and Dharma of Huangmei went south — could this not be that very cultivator?" I said, "I would not presume so." Yinzong then bowed and asked to see the transmitted robe and bowl displayed before the assembly. He asked further, "In Huangmei's final charge, what instruction was given?" I said, "There was no particular instruction — only a discussion of seeing one's own nature, not of meditative concentration or liberation." Yinzong said, "Why not discuss meditative concentration and liberation?" I said, "Because these are two separate things, and that is not the Buddha-dharma. The Buddha-dharma is a teaching of non-duality." Yinzong asked further, "What is this non-dual teaching of the Buddha-dharma?" I said, "Dharma Master, in lecturing on the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, you make clear the buddha-nature — this itself is the non-dual teaching of the Buddha-dharma. Consider how the bodhisattva Kāśyapa the Noble King said to the Buddha: 'Those who violate the four grave prohibitions, who commit the five heinous crimes, and the icchantikas besides — should their roots of goodness and buddha-nature be said to be cut off?' The Buddha said: 'Roots of goodness are of two kinds: the first is permanent, the second impermanent. But buddha-nature is neither permanent nor impermanent, and for this reason it is not cut off — this is called non-duality. The first is good, the second not good, but buddha-nature is neither good nor not-good — this too is called non-duality. Ordinary people see the aggregates and the elements as two things, but the wise understand their nature to be without duality; and this nature without duality is itself the buddha-nature.'" Hearing this, Yinzong was filled with joy, joined his palms, and said, "My own lecturing on the sūtras is like broken tile and rubble; your discussion of its meaning, sir, is like true gold." He then shaved my head himself, and asked to serve me as his own teacher. And so, beneath the bodhi tree, I opened the Dongshan teaching gate. I obtained the Dharma at Dongshan only after enduring every hardship, my life hanging as if by a single thread. That I am able today to gather here together with you, prefect, officials, monks, nuns, and laypeople alike, can only be the fruit of a bond accumulated over many lifetimes, and of roots of goodness planted together in past lives through offerings made to the buddhas — only in this way have you now come to hear the cause by which I attained the Dharma of this sudden teaching. This teaching was handed down by the sages who came before; it is not Huineng's own private wisdom. Whoever wishes to hear the teaching of the sages of old should first purify their own mind, and, having heard it, should each remove their own doubts, no different from the sages of former generations." Hearing this teaching, the whole assembly rejoiced, bowed in homage, and withdrew.