The Nine Contemplations, Eight Recollections, and Ten Perceptions

Fascicle Nine
Spoken by the Great Master Zhiyi of Tiantai, of the Sui dynasty
Recorded by his disciple Fashen
Revised and edited by his disciple Guanding
Explaining Dhyāna-Pāramitā's Cultivation and Realization, Topic 7, Part 5

Clarifying the cultivation and realization of the undefiled dhyānas. Here, the undefiled is clarified as being of two kinds: first, the undefiled that counteracts affliction; second, the undefiled that takes principle as its object. Hence the Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra says: "There are two kinds of practice: first, wisdom-practice; second, practice-practice." Practice-practice is precisely the nine contemplations, the eight forms of detachment, and the rest — the undefiled that counteracts, taking phenomena as its object and giving rise to practice, counteracting and breaking through the afflictions; hence it is named the undefiled practice of practice-practice. Second, wisdom-practice is precisely the true, empty, correct contemplation of the Four Noble Truths and the twelve links of dependent origination — taking principle as its object and severing delusion; hence it is named the undefiled practice of wisdom-practice.

First, explaining the undefiled that counteracts, as clarified with reference to nine dharma-gates: first, the nine contemplations; second, the eight recollections; third, the ten perceptions; fourth, the eight forms of detachment; fifth, the eight stations of mastery; sixth, the ten totalities; seventh, the nine sequential concentrations; eighth, the lion's-frolic samādhi; ninth, the samādhi of transcendence. These nine dhyānas are, in general, explained as the undefiled that counteracts, together with the sense of their own sequence and relative depth — all of which has already been given above, in the treatise's first fascicle.

Now, within these nine dharma-gates, there are precisely two paths belonging to the undefiled that counteracts: first, the destructive path; second, the non-destructive path. The destructive path is precisely the nine contemplations, the eight recollections, and the ten perceptions. Skillfully cultivating these three, should true undefilement arise, one thereby becomes an arhat of the destructive path. Second, the non-destructive path is precisely the eight forms of detachment, the eight stations of mastery, the ten totalities, the nine sequential concentrations, the lion's-frolic samādhi, and the samādhi of transcendence. Complete with these dhyānas, should true undefilement arise, one thereby becomes a great arhat of the non-destructive path.

Here, the three dharma-gates within the destructive contemplation are explained together. As for why these three dharma-gates are named the destructive contemplation: the practitioner's mind, wearied by the six desires as though by a hateful bandit, thereupon cultivates the nine contemplations as their antidote. In performing this contemplation, although the six desires are broken through, considerable fear tends to arise as well; should one then cultivate the eight kinds of correct recollection, this fear is thereupon removed, and, the mind of craving already thinned, one is free of fear as well. At that time, wishing to sever the fetters of the three realms, one should then advance to cultivating the ten perceptions; once the ten perceptions are accomplished, one thereupon slays every bandit of the fetters and becomes an arhat. This person, having thus destroyed the very mark of the desire-realm body, is unable to become complete with the threefold contemplation-refinement-permeation-cultivation of the three realms, the three insights, and the eight liberations — hence this is named the destructive path.

Question: What is the difference between the nine contemplations and the ten perceptions? Answer: there is both difference and no difference. As for the difference: the nine contemplations are like binding the bandit, while the ten perceptions are like slaying the bandit; the nine contemplations belong to the beginning student, while the ten perceptions belong to the one who has already accomplished; the nine contemplations are the cause, while the ten perceptions are the fruit. Hence the sutra says: "There are two gates of ambrosia: first, the gate of the contemplation of impurity; second, the gate of mindfulness of the breath." As for there being no difference: skillfully cultivating the nine contemplations, one is already complete with the ten perceptions as well — this sense will be clarified further below.

First, explaining the dharma-gate of the nine contemplations: first, the perception of swelling; second, the perception of decay; third, the perception of being smeared with blood; fourth, the perception of festering; fifth, the perception of livid discoloration; sixth, the perception of devouring; seventh, the perception of scattering; eighth, the perception of bones; ninth, the perception of burning. These nine dharma-gates are, in general, named perception because they are able to turn the mind and turn perception itself — that is, able to turn the inverted perception of purity found within impurity — hence they are named perception.

Explaining the nine contemplations now opens into four senses: first, clarifying their cultivation and realization; second, clarifying what they counteract; third, clarifying their classification; fourth, clarifying how they lead toward the path.

First, clarifying cultivation and realization: the practitioner first keeps the precepts in purity, so that the mind is free of remorse and readily receives the contemplative method, able thereby to break through the bandit-like afflictions of lustful desire. At that time, one should first contemplate a person at the very moment of death — words and speech taking their leave, the breath going out and not returning, suddenly already dead, the vital energy extinguished and the body cold, without any awareness left at all. The household, stricken with grief, cries out to heaven and wails to the earth: just now speaking, and now suddenly gone — where? This is the great terror, from which there is no escape, like the fire that burns at the eon's own end, leaving nothing behind unconsumed. As the verse says:

"Death arrives regardless of poverty or wealth, regardless of diligent cultivation of wholesome dharmas;
regardless of nobility or lowliness, neither the old nor the young escapes it.
There is no prayer or plea that can save one, nor any place where deceit avails;
there is no resistance by which one might break free — none whatsoever escapes it."

The dharma of death is named the place of eternal separation from love and affection, that which every living thing abhors — and though known to be abhorrent, there is truly no escaping it. This body of mine, too, before long, must certainly come to just this state, no different from wood or stone, without any distinguishing awareness left at all. I ought not, then, to crave and cling to the five desires, unaware that death is approaching, no different from cattle or sheep. Cattle, sheep, and every beast, though they see death before them, still leap about and bellow, never awakening to it themselves. I, having already obtained a human body, am able to distinguish good from ill — I ought, then, to seek the deathless dharma of ambrosia. As the verse says:

"The six faculties fully complete, wisdom's own discernment bright and sharp as well,
and yet not seeking the dharma of the path — one thereby squanders this body's own wisdom in vain.
Every beast, too, has its own intelligence, indulging itself freely in pleasure,
and yet, not knowing the skillful means, cultivating no wholesome deed for the sake of the path.
Having already obtained a human body, and yet only indulging oneself freely,
not knowing how to cultivate wholesome conduct — how, then, does one differ from a beast?
Beings of the three evil destinies are unable to cultivate the path's own karma;
having already obtained this human body, one ought to strive to benefit oneself while one still can."

Having reflected in this way, the practitioner then takes a person he loves, whether man or woman, and — clothing removed, the body bared — lays them upon the ground, and, treating them as a corpse would appear, one-pointedly and in samādhi contemplates this very corpse, the mind thoroughly startled and afraid, thereby breaking the mind of loving attachment. This, in brief, is the perception of death, serving as the preliminary expedient means for the nine contemplations themselves.

Furthermore, the nine contemplations are of two kinds: first, sharp faculties; second, dull faculties. Should one be a person of sharp faculties, simply holding the mind fixed on swelling and the rest of these matters at will, one is able to accomplish them all. Should one be a person of dull faculties, holding the mind fixed at will does not succeed — one must instead actually witness a person at the moment of death, all the way through to the corpse itself, and, having taken up this very mark, fix the mind upon it and cultivate accordingly. Once the mark is seen clearly and the mind's own perception is accomplished, samādhi thereupon arises — thereafter, though one may be apart from the corpse itself, the mark is seen the moment it is called to mind.

First, the perception of swelling: the practitioner, beside the corpse, sees it swollen, like a leather bag filled with wind, no longer resembling its original appearance. This body has no master within it — false consciousness alone drove and directed it, its seeing, hearing, and speech all merely deceiving oneself thereby — and now, where has it gone? One sees only an empty dwelling, swollen and rigid-necked. This body's own posture and countenance, its bewitching charm, its fine skin, vermilion lips, white teeth, long eyes, straight nose, broad forehead, and high brows — such a fine body once bewildered the onlooker's own mind. Now one sees only its swelling — where, then, is that fineness to be found? Even the mark of male or female can no longer be told apart. Taking up this very mark, one contemplates the person one loves in just this way, thereby reproaching the mind of desire: this stinking bag of filth, swollen and abhorrent — how could it be worth craving, that one should sink and drown for its sake? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Second, the perception of decay: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, blown by wind and exposed to sun, growing ever more swollen, then splitting apart violently upon the ground, its six sections broken and scattered, the five organs, excrement, and urine overflowing in a stinking, filthy stream — its foulness now fully exposed. That which I was once attached to, contemplated in just this way, holds nothing whatsoever worth loving or delighting in. I was deceived by folly, taken in by this thin skin over a bag of filth, like a moth that throws itself into the flame, craving only the brightness of its color, heedless of the disaster of its own burning body. One reflects to oneself: my own body, too, is just the same, not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Third, the perception of being smeared with blood: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, its decay already seen, pus and blood overflowing everywhere, spattering and staining from head to foot, foul and impure, reeking and rank, swollen — impossible to draw near. That which I loved, contemplated in just this way, holds nothing whatsoever worth loving or delighting in. I was deceived by folly, thereby sinking into ruin for its sake — this filth and impurity, where, then, is that fineness to be found? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Fourth, the perception of festering: the practitioner contemplates the corpse, soaked by wind, heat, and moisture, day by day growing further along, worms and pus flowing out from the body's nine openings, the skin and flesh festering everywhere, pouring down upon the ground, the stench ever increasing. That which I loved — this fine countenance and beautiful appearance — was the very thing by which I was once bewildered. Now, seeing it stinking and festering, worse even than excrement, how could it be worth craving? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Fifth, the perception of livid discoloration: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, its pus and blood now gradually exhausted, transformed by wind and sun, the skin and flesh turning yellow and red, then bruised black and livid blue-green, the stench ever increasing. That which I loved — that peach-blossom complexion — once deceived and bewildered me; where, now, has it gone? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Sixth, the perception of devouring: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, maggots gnawing and devouring it, crows plucking out its eyes, foxes and dogs chewing at it, tigers and wolves clawing it apart, the body left ragged, patchy, and falling away — utterly abhorrent. This person I loved, once, when the body was clean and pure, adorned in fine dress and ornament, its coquettish charm bewildering me of itself. Now, seeing it broken apart, every original mark entirely lost, it is utterly loathsome. One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Seventh, the perception of scattering: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, torn apart by birds and beasts, its bodily form broken and scattered, blown by wind and exposed to sun, tendons severed and bones separated, the head and skull lying crosswise and every which way. This person I loved, contemplated in just this way — where, now, is any human mark to be found? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Eighth, the perception of bones: the practitioner further contemplates the corpse, its skin and flesh now entirely gone, seeing only the white bones remaining. Seeing the bones, too, has two kinds: first, seeing the tendons still connecting them; second, the tendons entirely gone and the bones separated. And this, further, has two kinds: first, still stained with the grease and residue of blood; second, the bones white as agate or as shell. This person I loved, contemplated in just this way — the skull itself now fearsome, its hard, rigid mark harsher even than tile or stone, every trace of soft and delicate touch lost in a single moment. One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Ninth, the perception of burning: the practitioner further goes to the charnel grove, and there sees, perhaps, grass and wood piled high, the corpse set ablaze, its belly bursting open and fat pouring out, crackling and popping amid smoke and stench — utterly startling and fearsome; or sees, perhaps, only the white bones themselves burning, smoke and flame blazing through, until the firewood is spent and the fire dies out, the form now reduced to ash and dust alike. Even should it be neither burned nor buried, it, too, returns in the end to dissolution. This person I loved, contemplated in just this way — the bodily mark entirely gone, more thoroughly than by any blade — the bathing in fragrant incense, the adorning with powder and flowers, the soft and full delicate body, the cool warmth and flattering charm, by which one was once bewildered — all of it now dissolved away, where, in the end, does it remain? One reflects to oneself: my own body has not yet escaped this same dharma. One-pointedly, in samādhi, one thereby removes worldly craving and attachment.

Second, clarifying what the nine contemplations counteract: the practitioner, having already penetrated the nine contemplations, must further add to and repeatedly cultivate this perception, so that the practice of contemplation grows mature and sharp. Whenever one contemplates in this way, the mind thereupon corresponds with concentration, the dharma of perception holding the mind fast, without any scattering of intent — this, then, is able to break through the six desires and remove worldly craving and attachment.

The six desires are: first, desire for color; second, desire for form and appearance; third, desire for demeanor and bearing; fourth, desire for speech and voice; fifth, desire for smooth touch; sixth, desire for the human mark itself. Within these six desires, six kinds of attachment are able to arise.

As for desire for color: some people are stained with attachment to red, or to reddish-white, or to yellowish-white, or to black, or to reddish-black, or to blue-green, or to bluish-white, or to a peach-blossom hue. The unwise and foolish, seeing colors of this kind, sink and drown, bewildered and intoxicated. As for desire for form and appearance: some people are attached only to form and appearance — a face like the full moon, long eyes, high brows, a slender waist, delicate fingers, features fine and upright — the mind is thereupon bewildered and attached. As for desire for demeanor: some people are attached to demeanor and bearing — a gait broad and graceful, brows raised, cheeks dimpling, a smile held with coy allure — this thereupon gives rise to love and attachment.

As for desire for speech: some people love only the sound of speech — hearing clever words and flowery phrases, attuned to one's own intent and following one's own wishes, the tone and diction clear and elegant, songs of praise and admiration, stirring and delighting the heart — the foolish and shallow of understanding are thereby bewildered by it. As for desire for smooth touch: some people love only a body soft and smooth to the touch, its flesh full and radiantly glossy, like the softest down — warm to the touch in the cold, cool to the touch in the heat, welcoming to massage and embrace, the body scented with fragrant perfume — the ordinary sentiment sinks and drowns in this, and is thereby endangered and ruined. As for the mixed desire: some people are attached to all five of these matters together. As for desire for the human mark itself: some people are attached to none of these five matters, but are attached only to the human mark as such — whether male or female — such that, though they may perceive the above five matters in someone, if that person is not the one they love, they still remain unattached; but should they encounter a person who suits their own fancy, they are able to abandon everything the world holds dear, and cast away body and life in an instant.

Desires of this kind, life after life, deceive and bewilder sentient beings, causing them to sink into birth-and-death, drown in the three evil destinies, and never obtain liberation. Should one be able to skillfully cultivate the nine contemplations as their antidote, thereby dissolving them away, the bandit of the six desires is scattered and broken, and one swiftly realizes nirvāṇa.

Why is this? The initial perception of death breaks the two desires of demeanor and speech; next, the perceptions of swelling, decay, and devouring break the desire for form and appearance; next, the perceptions of being smeared with blood, livid discoloration, and festering, for the most part, break the desire for color; next, the perceptions of bones and burning, for the most part, remove the desire for smooth touch; the nine contemplations as a whole remove the mixed desire and the attachment to the human mark itself; and the perceptions of devouring, scattering, and bones especially remove the desire for the human mark, since, amid the remains — devoured, scattered, and reduced to white bone — no human mark whatsoever is left to be found for attachment to fix upon.

Through these nine contemplations, one is thereby able to break through the fetter of desire, and anger and delusion, too, grow thin. As the three poisons grow thin, the very mountain of the ninety-eight proclivities is shaken, and one gradually advances further along the path, until, with the vajra samādhi, one shatters the mountain of the fetters outright and obtains the path of the three vehicles. Though the nine contemplations are themselves a contemplation of impurity, through them one is able to accomplish this great matter — like a corpse floating in the great ocean, upon which a drowning person may yet depend, and thereby be delivered across.

Third, clarifying their classification: this dharma of the nine contemplations takes the desire realm's own bodily form as its object, and is classified under the aggregate of perception, also forming a small portion of the mindfulness of the body. It is classified, variously, under the desire realm, or under the first and second dhyānas. A person of scattered mind not yet free of desire obtains the fetter belonging to the desire realm; a person already free of desire obtains the fetter belonging to the form realm. The eight perceptions — swelling and the rest — are classified under the desire realm and the first and second dhyānas; the pure perception of bones is classified under the desire realm and the first, second, and fourth dhyānas. Within the third dhyāna, happiness is abundant, hence this perception has no place there.

Fourth, clarifying how the nine contemplations lead toward the path: cultivating the nine contemplations is of two kinds. Should one cultivate them by their own concrete matter alone, this is able only to subdue the fetters of the desire realm — one must afterward separately cultivate the ten perceptions in order to sever the afflictions of view and thought, and accomplish the path of no-more-learning. Second, should one skillfully cultivate the nine contemplations, one is already complete with the ten perceptions as well, passing from concrete matter into principle itself — in which case there is no need, separately, through some other gate, to cultivate the ten perceptions as well.

Why is this? As the practitioner contemplates a person at the moment of death — moving and speaking one moment, and then, in an instant, suddenly gone, the body swelling, decaying, and scattering apart, each stage transforming into the next — this is precisely impermanence. Clinging to this body as its impermanence brings it to ruin is precisely suffering. Should this impermanence and suffering leave one without any freedom of one's own, this is precisely no-self. Through impurity, impermanence, suffering, and no-self, the world is thereby seen as nothing to delight in or cling to — the body contemplated in just this way.

Though food is taken into the mouth, the brain's own fluid flows down and mingles with saliva to form its taste, and swallowing differs not at all from vomiting — once it descends into a person's belly, it becomes excrement itself: this is precisely the perception of the impurity of food. Through these nine contemplations, contemplating the body's impermanent transformation, ceasing moment after moment: this is precisely the perception of death.

Through these nine contemplations, growing weary of worldly pleasure and knowing the affliction's own cessation, one attains peace and quiescence: this is precisely the perception of cessation. Through these nine contemplations, blocking every affliction: this is precisely the perception of detachment. Through these nine contemplations growing weary of the world, knowing that the five aggregates cease and need never arise again, this place itself being at peace: this is precisely the perception of exhaustion.

Should one be able to skillfully cultivate the nine contemplations in this way, one is already complete with the ten perceptions as well, severing the afflictions of view and of thought — one should know that this person is certain to advance toward the path of the three vehicles.

Furthermore, the Mahāyāna scriptures say: should one skillfully cultivate the nine contemplations, this opens the gate of the mindfulness of the body; the mindfulness of the body opens the gate of the three remaining foundations of mindfulness; the four foundations of mindfulness open the gate of the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment; the thirty-seven factors open the gate of nirvāṇa; and, entering nirvāṇa thereby, every sorrow and suffering is extinguished. The bodhisattva, out of compassion for sentient beings, although able, even through the nine contemplations, to enter nirvāṇa, nonetheless does not grasp at the ultimate so as to make it one's own final proof.

Why is this? Should form possess no mark of savor at all, sentient beings ought not to become attached to form in the first place; should form possess no mark of detachment at all, one likewise ought not to obtain liberation from form either. It is precisely because form possesses the mark of savor that sentient beings become attached to form, and precisely because form possesses the mark of detachment that sentient beings obtain liberation from form. Yet savor is not itself detachment, nor is detachment itself savor — apart from the place of savor there is no place of liberation, and apart from the place of liberation there is no place of savor; one should know, then, that form itself is neither bondage nor liberation. At that time, one neither follows along with birth-and-death, nor grasps at the proof of nirvāṇa, but, solely through great compassion for every sentient being, accomplishes the whole of the Buddhadharma within this very contemplation of impurity. The Mahāprajñāpāramitā Sūtra says: "The nine contemplations are themselves precisely the bodhisattva's own Mahāyāna."

Next, explaining the dharma-gate of the eight recollections. The eight recollections are: first, recollection of the Buddha; second, recollection of the Dharma; third, recollection of the Saṃgha; fourth, recollection of the precepts; fifth, recollection of relinquishment; sixth, recollection of the heavens; seventh, recollection of the breath entering and leaving; eighth, recollection of death. These eight are, in general, named recollection because, the mind fixed one-pointedly upon its object, one holds it in mind without forgetting or losing it — hence they are named recollection.

Explaining the eight recollections now has three senses: first, clarifying the purpose of this teaching-gate; second, clarifying their cultivation and realization; third, clarifying the mark of how they lead toward the path.

First, clarifying the purpose of this teaching-gate: the Buddha's disciple, dwelling in a forest hermitage — an empty dwelling, a charnel ground, mountain forest, or open wilderness — skillfully cultivates the nine contemplations' own external impurity, growing weary of and averse to his own body, and reflects thus: "How is it that I go about dragging along this very bag of base impurity, this stinking filth of excrement and urine, wherever I go?" At that moment, he is suddenly seized with terror, every hair on his body standing on end; and evil māras, too, taking on all manner of forms, come to terrify him further still, wishing thereby to make him retreat and fall back from the path. It is for this reason that recollection of the Buddha is taught. Following the nine contemplations, the eight recollections are thus taught, in order to remove this very fear. As the sutra says: "The Buddha told the monks: should fear and terror arise in the forest hermitage, one should, at that time, recollect the Buddha, and the fear is thereupon extinguished; should one not recollect the Buddha, one should recollect the Dharma, and the fear is thereupon removed; should one not recollect the Dharma, one should recollect the Saṃgha, and the fear is thereupon removed." Hence one knows that these first three recollections are taught specifically to remove fear and terror.

Question: the sutra explains that these three recollections' own causes and conditions are for removing fear and terror — what, then, of the latter five recollections? Answer: this is because the monk, through his own giving and precept-keeping, has his fear thereupon removed as well. Why is this? Should he have broken the precepts, he fears falling into hell; should he be stingy and greedy, he fears falling among the hungry ghosts or into poverty. Reflecting to himself: "I possess this very purity of precepts and giving" — he is thereupon filled with joy. Every heavenly being above is likewise the fruit of giving and precept-keeping, and I, too, possess this same merit. Hence recollection of the heavens, too, is able to keep fear from arising. Within the sixteen practices, at the moment of recollecting the breath entering and leaving, even the subtlest initial thought is extinguished — how much more so, then, the coarse initial thought of fear? As for recollection of death: recollecting that the body of the five aggregates arises and ceases moment after moment, and that, ever since birth, one has always been accompanied by death — why, then, should one fear death now? These five recollections, though the Buddha did not explain them separately, should be understood as likewise deeply removing fear. Why is this? Recollecting another's merit in order to remove fear is difficult, while recollecting one's own merit in order to remove fear is easy — for this reason, they were not explained separately.

Second, clarifying the cultivation and realization of the eight recollections. Recollection of the Buddha: should the practitioner, within the forest hermitage, find fear arising in the mind, he should recollect the Buddha — the Buddha is the Tathāgata, the Arhat, the Fully and Perfectly Awakened One, all the way through to the World-Honored One, complete with the ten epithets; possessed of the thirty-two marks and eighty minor characteristics, great loving-kindness and great compassion, the ten powers, the four kinds of fearlessness, and the eighteen exclusive qualities; his wisdom's own light and supernormal powers beyond measure, able to deliver across countless beings throughout the ten directions. He is my own great teacher, the one who rescues and protects all — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Second, recollection of the Dharma: the practitioner should recollect that this Dharma is skillfully liberating, yields its fruit already in this very life, is free of every feverish affliction, requires no waiting upon time, is able to arrive at a good place, and penetrates without obstruction.

"Skillfully liberating" means that it skillfully expounds the two truths without their contradicting each other, this very Dharma thereby able to transcend both extremes — hence it is named skillfully liberating. "Yields its fruit already in this very life" means that every non-Buddhist teaching lacks any fruit in this very life, while only within the Buddhadharma do causes and conditions unfold one from another in succession: that is, through the purity of upholding the precepts, one obtains freedom from remorse of mind; through freedom from remorse of mind, one gives rise to joy in the Dharma; through joy in the Dharma, one obtains happiness of mind; through happiness of mind, one is thereby able to gather in the mind; through gathering in the mind, one obtains wisdom that accords with reality; through wisdom that accords with reality, one obtains weariness and detachment; through weariness and detachment, one obtains freedom from desire; through freedom from desire, one obtains liberation; and through the fruit of liberation, one obtains nirvāṇa. This is named obtaining the fruit already in this very life.

"Free of every feverish affliction" means free of the three poisons and the feverish affliction of birth-and-death. "Requires no waiting upon time" means that every non-Buddhist teaching requires waiting upon its own proper season to receive its result, while the Buddhadharma is not so — like firewood, which, meeting fire, ignites at once, without waiting upon any season. "Able to arrive at a good place" means that, practicing the Buddhadharma, one is certain to arrive at the happy fruit of the human and heavenly realms, and at the place of the three vehicles' own nirvāṇa. "Penetrates without obstruction" means that, having obtained the three dharma-seals, one penetrates without any obstruction whatsoever. I cultivate dharmas such as these — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Third, recollection of the Saṃgha: the practitioner should recollect the Saṃgha — the Saṃgha is the assembly of the Buddha's own disciples, complete with the five-part dharma-body. Among them are the four pairs and eight kinds of noble persons, twenty-seven in number, worthy of receiving offerings and reverent service, the world's own unsurpassed field of merit — whether the saṃgha of śrāvakas, the saṃgha of pratyekabuddhas, or the saṃgha of bodhisattvas, their spiritual wisdom beyond measure, able to rescue beings from suffering and hardship and deliver them across. Noble assemblies such as these are my own true companions — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Fourth, recollection of the precepts: the practitioner should recollect that these precepts are able to block every evil, a place of peace and security to abide within. Among these precepts there are two kinds, namely the contaminated precepts and the undefiled precepts. There are, further, two more kinds: first, the precepts of moral restraint; second, the precepts joined with concentration. The precepts of moral restraint are able to block every evil, the body thereby obtaining peace; the precepts joined with concentration are able to block every affliction, the mind thereby obtaining inner happiness; the undefiled precepts are able to break through ignorance, the root of every evil, obtaining thereby the happiness of liberation. I cultivate a dharma such as this — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Fifth, recollection of relinquishment: the practitioner should recollect that relinquishment is of two kinds: first, the relinquishment of giving; second, the relinquishment of every affliction. The relinquishment of giving is, itself, of two kinds: first, the giving of wealth; second, the giving of the Dharma. Both of these two kinds of giving alike are named relinquishment, and are themselves the root of every wholesome dharma. The practitioner reflects to himself: ever since I have had this body, I have likewise possessed this very merit of relinquishment and giving — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Sixth, recollection of the heavens: the practitioner should recollect that the Heaven of the Four Great Kings, all the way through to the Heaven of Free Enjoyment of Others' Transformations, and every heavenly being within them, alike obtained rebirth in these places entirely through their own wholesome root of precept-keeping and giving in past lives — enjoying happiness through the long night of saṃsāra, their wholesome dharmas watching over and mindful of beings such as ourselves. One should further recollect that the heavens are of four kinds: first, the heavens in name only; second, the heavens of birth; third, the pure heavens; fourth, the heavens of meaning-born beings. Heavens such as these bear a pure fruit of retribution — should I, too, possess this very goodness of precept-keeping and giving, then, at the moment life is relinquished, I am certain to be born in a place such as these — of what, then, should I be afraid? Recollecting one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Seventh, recollection of ānāpāna, the breath entering and leaving: as already explained in the opening gate of the sixteen special excellences above. Should the practitioner's own mind be seized with fear and terror, he should straightaway regulate the breath, taking the breath's own entering and leaving as his object, and, once aware of having counted a full ten breaths, should straightaway declare: "I recollect ānāpāna" — continuing thus up through ten, the six faculties thereupon return to their proper place. Recollecting the breath one-pointedly in this way, fear is thereupon removed.

Next, recollection of death: death is of two kinds: first, death of natural causes; second, death through others' causes and conditions. These two kinds of death, alike, are the constant companion of this very body — should others not kill me, I myself, too, must still die regardless: why, then, should this give rise to fear? It is like the brave warrior entering the field of battle, who, going forth to meet death itself head-on, thereby finds the mind at peace, without any fear at all. Recollecting death one-pointedly in just this way, fear is thereupon removed. This, then, briefly explains how the eight recollections counteract fear and terror; the dharma-characteristics involved here are all explained at greater length in the Mahāyāna scriptures.

Third, clarifying the mark of how the eight recollections lead toward the path: should one proceed as already explained above, this is merely a skillful means for removing fear and terror and every obstruction and difficulty; here, it is further clarified that skillfully cultivating the eight recollections is, in itself, a single path's own dharma-gate for entering the path.

Explaining how the eight recollections enter the path has two senses: first, the mark of entering the path through sequential cultivation; second, each single recollection, on its own, being able to lead to entering the path.

As for entering the path through sequential cultivation: the practitioner, wishing to seek liberation from the illness of affliction, should first recollect the Buddha as the king of physicians, recollect the Dharma as the fine medicine, recollect the Saṃgha as the one who attends the sick, recollect the precepts as the forbidden foods to be avoided, recollect relinquishment as the nourishing care that follows, recollect the heavens as the body's illness beginning to improve, recollect ānāpāna as that which brings forth dhyāna concentration itself, and recollect death as awakening to the Four Noble Truths' own impermanence. Once the illness belonging to the three realms is entirely exhausted, one thereupon obtains the noble path.

Second, clarifying how each single recollection, on its own, is itself a method for entering the path: recollection of the Buddha is precisely the mark of entering the path through the samādhi of buddha-recollection, as explained in the Mañjuśrī-prajñāpāramitā-sūtra and throughout the other scriptures. Recollection of the Dharma is as the sutra says: "That which every buddha takes as teacher is precisely the Dharma itself" — the Four Noble Truths, the twelve links of dependent origination, the six pāramitās, the middle way, and true reality: dharmas such as these are, every one, a method of entering the path. Recollection of the Saṃgha is as explained in the Avalokiteśvara Sūtra, the Samādhi Sūtra, the Bhaiṣajyarāja Sūtra, and the rest. Recollection of the precepts is as already explained above, among the ten kinds of precepts. Recollection of giving is as explained in the Mahāyāna scriptures, within the mark of entering the path through the dāna-pāramitā.

As for the remaining three recollections: recollection of the heavens — that is, of the heaven of ultimate meaning itself — is likewise a path of entry; the mark of entering the path through recollection of ānāpāna is given in full within the thorough-and-bright contemplation, already explained above; and recollection of death is as explained below, within the sense of the perception of death.

One should know, then, that, among the eight recollections, cultivating even a single one of them is already sufficient to enter the path, without any need for further practice besides. The bodhisattva, seeking buddhahood, practices these eight recollections with a mind that rests upon and clings to nothing, employing great compassion's own skillful means, broadly cultivating every dharma-gate in order to transform sentient beings. One should know, then, that the eight recollections are themselves precisely the bodhisattva's own Mahāyāna.

Next, explaining the dharma-gate of the ten perceptions. The ten perceptions are: first, the perception of impermanence; second, the perception of suffering; third, the perception of no-self; fourth, the perception of the impurity of food; fifth, the perception that nothing in the whole world is to be delighted in; sixth, the perception of death; seventh, the perception of impurity; eighth, the perception of cessation; ninth, the perception of detachment; tenth, the perception of exhaustion. Explaining the ten perceptions now has three senses: first, clarifying their sequence of stages; second, clarifying their cultivation and realization; third, clarifying how they lead toward the path.

First, as for their sequence of stages: among the dharmas explained within the Buddha's teaching, there are three kinds of path — first, the path of seeing; second, the path of cultivation; third, the path of no-more-learning. These ten perceptions here are clarified in their sequence of stages precisely with reference to these three paths.

Why is this? The practitioner of the destructive path, already at the stage of dry wisdom, has already become complete with the nine contemplations and subdued the fetters; now, cultivating the first three perceptions — impermanence and the rest — this is precisely the general-mark contemplation, breaking through the sixty-two views and every inverted dharma, and entering the path of seeing, thereby obtaining the first fruit. Next come the four perceptions beginning with the impurity of food; these are for the stream-enterer and the once-returner, entering the path of cultivation, wishing to sever the five lower fetters and realize the fruit of non-returning — hence these four kinds of particular-mark contemplation of concrete matters are explained, assisting the correct contemplation to come to completion and severing the afflictions of thought. Last come the three perceptions of cessation, detachment, and exhaustion; these are for the non-returner, proceeding toward arhatship, cultivating the path of no-more-learning, wishing to sever and depart from craving for the form and formless realms, and realize arhatship — hence these are explained here. One should know, then, that the ten perceptions are distinguished in their sequence of stages with reference to these three paths; in a general sense, this may be seen for itself.

Second, clarifying cultivation and realization. First, the perception of impermanence: contemplating that every conditioned dharma is impermanent, wisdom corresponding to this very contemplation — hence it is named the perception of impermanence. Why is this? Every conditioned dharma arises and ceases ever anew, belongs to causes and conditions, and does not accumulate or increase; at the moment of its arising, it comes from nowhere at all, and at the moment of its ceasing, it goes nowhere at all — hence it is named impermanence.

Within this, impermanence is of two kinds: first, the impermanence of sentient beings; second, the impermanence of the world. As for the impermanence of sentient beings: the practitioner contemplates that both oneself and every sentient being, ever since the kalala-stage, undergo form and mind arising, ceasing, and transforming, all the way through old age and death, without a single moment's pause. Why is this? Every conditioned thing belongs, entirely, to the three marks of arising, abiding, and ceasing, shifting and changing — hence one knows it to be impermanent. That is: wishing to arise, it instead arises as something already different; wishing to abide, it instead abides as something already different; wishing to cease, it instead ceases as something already different — change and impermanence of this kind, swift as an instant, without a single moment's rest — hence one knows that every sentient being, without exception, is impermanent. As for the impermanence of the world, the verse says:

"The great earth, the grasses and trees, all alike are ground away; Mount Sumeru and the great ocean, too, collapse and run dry;
every heavenly dwelling-place is burned entirely away — at such a time, where, then, does the world remain constant?"

Furthermore, as the Buddha teaches, the contemplation of impermanence is of two kinds: first, impermanence with remainder; second, impermanence without remainder. Every person and thing entirely exhausted, only the name remaining — this is named with remainder; should person and thing alike be utterly extinguished — this is named without remainder.

Why is this? Should one say that, on account of the three marks, every conditioned dharma is impermanent, then the three marks themselves cannot be found at all — how, then, could there be impermanence? For, at the moment of arising, there is no abiding or ceasing; and apart from the moment of arising, too, there is no abiding or ceasing. Should arising itself already possess abiding and ceasing, this would destroy the very mark of arising, since arising and ceasing contradict one another. Should one say that, apart from arising, there is ceasing and abiding, this, too, destroys the sense of the three marks. Should there be ceasing apart from arising, there would be nothing there to cease at all. One should know, then, that the three marks cannot be found. If there are no three marks at all, how, then, can one speak of impermanence? Should one fail to find any mark of impermanence at all, this is precisely seeing the noble path — this is named the perception of impermanence.

Question: if this is so, why does the Buddha teach impermanence as a noble truth? Answer: this is in order to counteract and break through the inverted view of clinging to permanence — within this, one ought not to seek any reality at all; should the mind reckon impermanence itself to be real, one thereby falls into the view of annihilation. Furthermore, the perception of impermanence with remainder is as already explained above, within the special excellences and the thorough-and-bright contemplation; impermanence without remainder will be explained at greater length below, within the section on wisdom-practice.

Question: why does the very first gate of noble practice speak of the perception of impermanence first? Answer: every ordinary person, before seeing the path, prizes their own particular practice above the rest — some say upholding the precepts is what matters most, some say extensive learning is what matters most, some say the twelve austere practices are what matter most, some say dhyāna concentration is what matters most. Each, prizing their own particular practice in this way, no longer diligently seeks nirvāṇa itself. The Buddha says: "All of these merits alike are but a portion of the path leading toward nirvāṇa; contemplating that every dharma is impermanent — this alone is the true path to nirvāṇa." For causes and conditions of this kind, though every dharma is empty, the perception of impermanence is nonetheless taught.

Second, the perception of suffering: the practitioner should reflect thus: that every remaining dharma's own impermanent shifting and changing is itself precisely the perception of suffering. Why is this? From the union of the internal six faculties and the external six sense-objects, the six kinds of consciousness arise; within these six kinds of consciousness, three kinds of sensation arise, namely painful sensation, pleasant sensation, and neutral sensation. Within these three kinds of sensation, one is pressed and afflicted by the eight sufferings — birth, old age, illness, death, separation from what one loves, failing to obtain what one seeks, union with what one hates, and the flourishing of the five aggregates of clinging themselves — hence this is named suffering.

Furthermore, painful sensation, being in itself a matter of suffering, is something no sentient being desires; pleasant sensation, being agreeable to one's own feeling, is something every sentient being loves. Should craving and attachment arise toward it, its impermanent ruin thereupon brings the immediate experience of manifold sufferings, and, afterward, the suffering of hell, of the animal realm, and of the hungry ghosts as well. Every kind of suffering such as this arises entirely from the very seeking of pleasure — hence one knows that pleasure is itself suffering. Neutral sensation, though it is, within one's own feeling, aware of neither pain nor pleasure, neither grasped nor cast away, is nonetheless, in truth and in principle, impermanent and ever shifting and pressing upon one — this, too, is a great suffering.

Contemplating in this way, one sees, throughout the three realms, no mark of pleasure whatsoever capable of giving rise to craving and attachment, and the mind thereby gives rise to weariness and aversion — this is named the perception of suffering. Question: if impermanence is itself suffering, then the noble truth of the path, too, being conditioned and impermanent, ought likewise to be suffering. Answer: though the noble truth of the path is impermanent, it is nonetheless able to extinguish suffering, giving rise to no attachment whatsoever, and, moreover, is joined together with the wisdom of emptiness, no-self, and the rest — hence it is merely impermanent, and not suffering.

Third, the perception of no-self: the practitioner should deeply reflect thus: should every conditioned dharma be, entirely, suffering, then suffering is itself precisely no-self. Why is this? Within the five aggregates of clinging, all alike are suffering; being suffering, one is thereby without freedom of one's own; being without freedom of one's own, this is precisely no-self. Why is this? Should there be a self possessing freedom of its own, it ought not to be pressed and afflicted by suffering at all — hence one knows that suffering is itself precisely no-self.

Furthermore, within the five aggregates, the twelve sense-bases, and the eighteen elements, every dharma arises from conditions, and thus possesses no nature of its own. Whether identical to the aggregates or separate from the aggregates, seeking further for a self through the sixteen forms of knowledge and view, none whatsoever can be found. A self being nowhere found, one thereupon relinquishes every view and every attachment, the mind grasping at nothing at all, and thereby obtains liberation — this is named the perception of no-self. These three perceptions of impermanence, suffering, and no-self involve a contemplative practice both deep and subtle, and will be explained at still greater length below, within the explanation of the truth of suffering.

Question: are impermanence, suffering, and no-self a single matter, or are they three separate matters? Should they be a single matter, a single matter ought not to be spoken of as three; should they be three separate matters, why does the Buddha teach that impermanence is itself suffering, and suffering is itself no-self? Answer: the three are a single matter, namely the experiencing of a contaminated dharma. Through the distinctions made by the gate of contemplation, there come to be three differences: correspondence with the practice of impermanence is the perception of impermanence; correspondence with the practice of suffering is the perception of suffering; correspondence with the practice of no-self is the perception of no-self. Impermanence keeps one from entering the three realms; suffering causes one to know the fault belonging to the three realms; no-self, then, causes one to relinquish the world entirely.

Furthermore, impermanence gives rise to weariness; suffering gives rise to fear; no-self draws one out, causing one to obtain liberation. Furthermore, impermanence blocks the view of permanence; suffering blocks the view that takes the world itself for nirvāṇa; no-self blocks the view of attachment to any fixed place at all. Impermanence is precisely that permanent dharma which the world clings to; suffering is precisely that place of pleasure which the world reckons upon; no-self is precisely that solid, fixed self which the world reckons upon. Distinctions of every such kind are all explained at greater length in the Mahāyāna scriptures.

Fourth, the perception of the impurity of food: the practitioner, though already knowing impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and no-self, may still give rise to craving and attachment toward food and drink — one should therefore cultivate the perception of the impurity of food as its own antidote. Closely contemplate that this food exists, in every case, through causes and conditions that are themselves impure: meat, for instance, arises within the channels of semen and blood, itself a dwelling-place for pus and worms; ghee and dairy curds, transformed from blood, differ not at all from festering pus; cooked rice resembles white maggots, and broth resembles the liquid of excrement. Every meal, prepared and handled by the kitchen worker, is filthy and impure; once placed within the mouth, the brain's own decaying fluid flows down through its two channels, mingling with saliva, and only then does it form a taste — its very appearance resembling vomit. Descending through the body's gate into the belly, it is held by earth, decomposed by water, stirred by wind, and cooked by fire — like porridge simmering in a pot, its dregs and sediment sinking down while the clear part rises above; or like the brewing of wine, whose dregs and sediment become excrement, and whose clear part becomes urine.

The waist has three openings, through which wind blows the resulting fluid, scattering it into the hundred vessels, where it first mingles with blood and congeals, transforming into flesh; from this fresh flesh, fat, bone, and marrow are then generated — and, through these very causes and conditions, the physical faculty of the body itself is produced.

From this fresh and older flesh together, the five faculties of feeling are then generated; from these five faculties, the five sense-consciousnesses then arise, followed in turn by mind-consciousness, which distinguishes and grasps at marks, weighing and judging good and ill — and only afterward does the mind of self and what-belongs-to-self arise, together with every affliction and every unwholesome deed that follows from it. Contemplating food in this way, from its very origin through to its end, its causes and conditions manifold and impure throughout, one knows that the four elements within the body and the four elements outside it are, in truth, no different from one another — it is only through the sheer force of the view of self that one insists on reckoning it as belonging to oneself.

The practitioner, reflecting in this way, comes to know the fault inherent in food — should I still crave and cling to it, I am bound to fall into hell or among the hungry ghosts, swallowing balls of molten iron, or to fall among the animals, among pigs and dogs, devouring filth and excrement. Contemplating food in this way, weariness thereupon arises; and, through this very weariness toward food, the five desires, too, grow thin — this is precisely the perception of the impurity of food.

Fifth, the perception that nothing in the whole world is to be delighted in: should the practitioner call to mind the world's own sensual desire, its flavors, one's own family and kin, adornment and dress, gardens and parks, one's own homeland, and worldly affairs, a perception of pleasure thereupon arises, unwholesome thought never ceasing, obstructing the very path of freedom from desire. The practitioner should therefore, with a deep and earnest mind, closely contemplate the mark of the world's own manifold faults.

These faults are of two kinds: first, those belonging to sentient beings; second, those belonging to the land itself. As for the faults belonging to sentient beings: every sentient being is beset by the affliction of the eight sufferings, nothing in them worth craving or clinging to. One further contemplates that, since sentient beings are so given to craving and desire, they choose neither good nor ill, no different from beasts; since they are so given to heavy anger and hatred, they refuse even to accept the Buddha's own words, show no reverence in hearing the Dharma, and hold no fear of the evil destinies; since they are so given to heavy folly, what they seek follows no principle at all, unable even to distinguish the honored from the lowly; some are stingy and greedy, arrogant and conceited, envious and jealous, perverse and contrary, flattering and deceitful, slanderous and treacherous, holding wrong views, without faith, unable to recognize a debt of kindness; some, so given to heavy unwholesome deeds, commit the five heinous acts, show no reverence for the Three Jewels, and hold the virtuous in contempt. Among the sentient beings of this world, those who are good are exceedingly few, while the corrupt and evil are many — deeply contemplating afflictions and faults of this kind, one ought to give rise to weariness and detachment, recognizing that such beings are not to be drawn close to or cherished.

As for the faults belonging to the land itself, the verse says:

"In some lands there is great cold, in some lands there is great heat;
some lands offer no refuge or protection, some lands are rife with evil;
some lands suffer great famine, some lands are rife with sickness;
some lands cultivate no merit at all — lands such as these hold no place of joy."

The practitioner, deeply contemplating the desire realm's own evils in this way, finds no place of joy whatsoever within it — and, further still, when the retribution belonging to the two higher realms themselves comes to ruin, its sorrow and suffering exceed even that of the lower realm, like a fall from the very greatest height, shattering and crushing all the more upon landing. The sutra says: "The three realms hold no peace at all, like a house already ablaze, filled everywhere with manifold sufferings, utterly to be feared." Should one constantly contemplate this mark, deep weariness and detachment thereby arise, and the thought of love no longer arises at all — this is named the perception that nothing in the whole world is to be delighted in.

Sixth, the perception of death: should the practitioner, having cultivated all of the perceptions given above, find some measure of laxity arising in the mind, unable to swiftly sever the contaminants, at such a time one should deeply cultivate the perception of death. As the Buddha explains the sense of the perception of death: there was a monk who, baring one shoulder, addressed the Buddha: "I am able to cultivate the perception of death." The Buddha said: "How do you cultivate it?" The monk said: "I do not expect to live out the year." The Buddha said: "You are one who cultivates the perception of death negligently." There was another monk who said: "I do not expect to live out seven months." Other monks said seven days, six days, five days, four days, three days, two days. The Buddha said: "All of you are cultivating the perception of death negligently." A monk said: "From dawn until the morning meal." Another monk said: "The space of a single meal." The Buddha said: "All of you, too, are cultivating the perception of death negligently." Then there was a monk who, baring one shoulder, addressed the Buddha, saying: "For my part, upon breathing out, I do not presume upon breathing in again; upon breathing in, I do not presume upon breathing out again." The Buddha said: "Excellent! Excellent! This is the true cultivation of the perception of death — this is true, unfailing diligence." Should one be able to cultivate the perception of death in just this way, one should know that this person breaks the bandit of laxity, and every wholesome dharma comes constantly to manifest before them — this is named cultivating the perception of death.

Seventh, the perception of impurity: as already given above, within the thorough-and-bright contemplation, seeing the body's thirty-six substances and five kinds of impurity — the matter should be explained at length there.

Eighth, the perception of cessation; ninth, the perception of detachment; tenth, the perception of exhaustion: taking nirvāṇa as the object, severing the fetters of affliction, this is named the perception of cessation; being free of the fetters, this is named the perception of detachment; exhausting every one of the fetters entirely, this is named the perception of exhaustion.

Question: if this is so, a single perception alone ought to suffice — why, then, are three spoken of? Answer: just as the single dharma spoken of before as three — impermanence is itself suffering, suffering is itself no-self — this perception, too, is just the same. The perception of cessation corresponds to nirvāṇa with remainder; the perception of exhaustion corresponds to nirvāṇa without remainder; the perception of detachment is the skillful gateway common to both kinds of nirvāṇa. One should know, then, that the practitioner of the destructive path, accomplishing the ten perceptions, thereby becomes an arhat, complete with both kinds of nirvāṇa — hence the nine contemplations and the ten perceptions together are spoken of as the destructive path. The sense of the ten perceptions, distinguished in every such way, is explained at greater length in the Mahāyāna scriptures.

Third, clarifying the mark of how the ten perceptions lead toward the path: this, too, is of three kinds.

First, gradually entering the destructive path in sequence — this is entirely as already explained above.

Second, the destructive path entered out of sequence: from the very first arousal of the mind, one already cultivates the ten perceptions complete, severing every fetter, obtaining the fruit of arhatship, and becoming complete with both kinds of nirvāṇa. Hence the Mahāyāna scriptures say: "Within the stages of heat, summit, forbearance, and the supreme mundane dharma, correct wisdom's own contemplation, freeing one from every affliction — this is the perception of detachment; obtaining the undefiled path and severing the fetters — this is the perception of cessation; and, upon entering nirvāṇa, extinguishing the five aggregates of clinging so that they never again continue — this is named the perception of exhaustion." One should know, then, that, from the very stage of dry wisdom onward, the perception of detachment and the rest are already spoken of here — this differs from what was explained before, where the three perceptions were placed together within the later path of no-more-learning alone.

Third, entering the path according to one's own portion: should one, among the ten perceptions, cultivate even a single one, skillfully bringing it to accomplishment, one is thereby able to sever the fetters of the three realms, obtain arhatship, and realize both kinds of nirvāṇa. Hence the sutra says: "Skillfully cultivating the perception of impermanence alone, one is able to sever every craving for the desire, form, and formless realms, and the fetters of agitation, conceit, and ignorance belonging to the three realms are extinguished forever, without remainder." One should know, then, that the perception of impermanence alone is already complete and sufficient for entering the path, free of affliction; the remaining nine perceptions, too, should each in turn be distinguished in this same way, with respect to the mark of how they lead toward the path.

Furthermore, when the bodhisattva-mahāsattva practices the bodhisattva path, the mind being vast and expansive, wishing to prepare the ambrosial dharma-medicine for every sentient being, although knowing that every dharma is, in the end, empty and still, nonetheless becomes complete with the accomplishment of all ten perceptions as well. This bodhisattva, within each and every perception, enters every dharma-gate in turn, circling through them without any obstruction whatsoever, expounding them for the sake of sentient beings. One should know, then, that the ten perceptions are themselves precisely the bodhisattva's own Mahāyāna.

Shi Chan Boluomi Cidi Famen, Fascicle Nine, ends here.