Awareness of Demonic Affairs

Root Text: In Sanskrit, "māra"; in Chinese, "the killer" — one who plunders a practitioner's own treasure of merit and kills a practitioner's own life of wisdom; hence it is called an evil demon. "Affairs" means this: just as the Buddha's own affair is bringing sentient beings across through merit and wisdom, entering nirvāṇa, so a demon's constant affair is destroying sentient beings' own wholesome roots, keeping them revolving in birth-and-death. If one is able to settle the mind on the correct path, the higher the path, the more one comes to know how numerous the demons truly are — and so one must skillfully recognize demonic affairs. There are, in fact, four kinds: the demon of affliction, the demon of the aggregates, sense-fields, and elements, the demon of death, and the demon of ghosts and spirits. The first three are all ordinary matters of the world, arising from within a person's own mind, and must be corrected and dispelled through one's own mind's own correct effort — they are not further distinguished here. The mark of the demon of ghosts and spirits, however, is something one must specifically know; it will now be briefly explained.

Commentary: This text has ten chapters in all; the seven above are now complete, and this eighth chapter now explains awareness of demonic affairs, so that a practitioner can recognize them. Once a practitioner's own effort has grown even somewhat mature, the demon-king seizes the opportunity to destroy it — hence, when a demon comes, one must, without fail, be aware of it, and never be deluded by it.

One should know that demonic affairs and buddha-affairs are entirely different from each other. What is a buddha-affair? Nothing other than the six pāramitās and the ten thousand practices, turning sentient beings from evil toward good, from delusion into awakening, freeing them from suffering and bringing them happiness... The demon-king does exactly the opposite: his constant affair is destroying sentient beings' own wholesome roots, keeping them revolving in birth-and-death... If we do not apply effort at all, this is one thing — but the moment we do apply effort, the demon-king comes to disturb it. If not even a single thought arises, and one's own inherent brightness shines forth, this shakes the very demon-palace itself — just as, when the World-Honored One practiced austerities in the Snow Mountains and was about to accomplish the path, the demon-king's own palace was shaken and thrown into turmoil...

"The higher the path, the more one knows how numerous the demons are" — the path rises a single foot, the demons rise ten feet higher still; but one who is skillfully able to recognize demonic affairs finds that, seeing a demon without treating it as a demon, the demon collapses of itself; seeing something strange without treating it as strange, the strangeness defeats itself — through the power of equal, boundless correct mindfulness, one dissolves the demon's own limited power, exactly as boiling water melts ice.

Demons are of four kinds. The first is the demon of affliction — this is an inward demon of the mind itself... The second is the demon of the aggregates — that is, the five aggregates... The third is the demon of death — death being the dispersal of the four great elements, the body lost and life ended... The fourth is the demon of ghosts and spirits, also called the demon of the god-son — though "the demon of the god-son" refers specifically to Māra, the demon-king at the very summit of the desire realm's heavens... The first three are all ordinary matters, arising from within a person's own mind, and must be corrected and dispelled through one's own mind's own correct mindfulness... Among these four demons, only the mark of this fourth demon needs to be deeply understood.

Root Text: The demon of ghosts and spirits is of three kinds. The first is the nature-spirit: any of the twelve double-hour beasts, transformed into various shapes and forms — sometimes the form of a young girl, sometimes an aged elder, and various other frightening bodies as well — troubling and deluding a practitioner. These nature-spirits, wishing to trouble a practitioner, each come at their own particular hour, and one must skillfully distinguish which. If it comes during the hour of the tiger, it must be a tiger-kind creature; if during the hour of the rabbit, it must be a rabbit or deer-kind creature... A practitioner who observes it habitually coming at a particular hour thereby knows which beast-spirit it is, and, naming it aloud and rebuking it, causes it to fade away at once.

Commentary: Now briefly explaining the three kinds of ghost-and-spirit demon. The nature-spirit is precisely the kind of goblin or sprite that begins as a decayed piece of wood or a lifeless stone, and, absorbing the essence of sun and moon over long years, becomes a spirit-goblin — also called a "seasonal charm-ghost." If a practitioner, sitting in meditation with deviant thoughts, becomes especially prone to attracting such charm-spirits, they may take the form of a young man or woman, an old man or woman, or the image of a bird or beast, in every kind of strange, varied shape — sometimes entertaining the practitioner, sometimes deceiving and misleading them, sometimes taking a lovable form, sometimes a terrifying one, displaying every kind of strange, varied appearance, disturbing the practitioner's own dhyāna-concentration.

One should know that these nature-spirits, wishing to trouble a practitioner, each come at their own particular hour, never at random — a practitioner must skillfully distinguish this, recognizing the beast's own name, and, silently rejecting it, the spirit fades away at once. To distinguish which seasonal beast a given spirit has transformed into, one observes the twelve double-hours, and whichever hour it comes, one thereby knows which beast it is — the hour of the tiger is a tiger, and so on down to the hour of the ox. Further dividing each hour into three gives thirty-six beasts in all... Since these spirits, by their very nature, fear being recognized by name, they dare not even come once called by name, much less once their form is recognized — hence, recognizing both their form and their name, the charm-spirit no longer dares to cause mischief. As for a method of dealing with such charm-spirits, an ancient hermit-ascetic once kept a square mirror hung behind his own seat — a charm-spirit is unable to alter its own reflected image within a mirror, and, viewing the mirror, one recognizes it and is thereby able to dispel it oneself. This too is a single method that treats both the inward and outward aspects of the problem at once.

Root Text: The second is the harassing spirit. This too troubles a practitioner in various ways — sometimes like an insect or scorpion crawling over the head and face, pricking with a sharp, gleaming sensation; sometimes striking beneath both armpits; sometimes suddenly embracing the practitioner; sometimes making loud, disruptive sounds and speech, or taking the shape of various beasts, in every kind of strange form, troubling a practitioner. One should be aware of this at once, and, with a single, undivided mind, close the eyes and silently rebuke it, saying: "I now recognize you — you are one of the fire-eating, scent-smelling, offering-stealing spirits of this world, born of wrong views and delight in breaking the precepts. I now keep the precepts, and will never fear you." If a monastic, one should recite the precept code; if a lay person, one should recite the three refuges and five precepts — and the spirit will then retreat, crawling away on all fours.

Commentary: The harassing spirit is precisely the most dreaded of evil night-yakṣa spirits. If, while a practitioner sits in meditation, this spirit comes to disturb them, it too takes on various shapes to trouble the practitioner — sometimes like an insect or scorpion crawling all over the head and face, pricking with a sharp, gleaming sensation; sometimes crawling over the body, dropping down and climbing back up again without end — though causing no real pain, it is exhausting and hard to endure. Sometimes it burrows into the ears, eyes, or nose; sometimes it strikes beneath both armpits; sometimes it suddenly seems to embrace the practitioner, as though some object were there, yet impossible to grasp, driven off only to return again; sometimes it makes a shrill, chattering sound, disturbing the ears — and various other strange manifestations as well, troubling a practitioner. This spirit's face resembles a lute, with four eyes and two mouths, the most terrifying of all.

Should a practitioner encounter this spirit, one must urgently apply a method to counter it. This spirit was, long ago, in the age of the buddha Kanakamuni, a monk in the final age of that buddha's teaching, who delighted in disrupting the assembly of monks; the assembly expelled him, and he thereupon made an evil vow to constantly trouble anyone sitting in meditation — this is the founding ancestor of this kind of spirit. Though the karmic retribution of that original spirit may already be exhausted, others born of the same karma continue to trouble practitioners in just the same way — and rebuking this spirit by naming its own founding ancestor causes it to depart in shame upon hearing it. A practitioner, recognizing this, should, with a single, undivided mind, close the eyes and silently rebuke it, saying: "I now recognize your very name — you are one of the fire-eating, scent-smelling, offering-stealing spirits of this world, born of wrong views and delight in breaking the precepts. I now keep the precepts, and do not fear you."

...A monastic should recite the Brahma Net Sūtra precepts, or the Four-Part or Five-Part Vinaya; a lay person should recite the three refuges and five precepts — for each of the five precepts has its own five guardian spirits protecting it, twenty-five guardian spirits in all. These spirits fear the precepts more than anything else — reciting them causes every such ghost and goblin to retreat at once, crawling away on all fours.

Root Text: The third is Māra's own disturbance. This demon most often transforms into three kinds of state among the five sense-objects to destroy the wholesome mind. The first creates a disagreeable circumstance — dreadful sense-objects that instill fear. The second creates an agreeable circumstance — lovable sense-objects that draw the mind into attachment. The third creates a circumstance neither disagreeable nor agreeable — neutral sense-objects that simply stir the practitioner into agitation. This is why the demon is named "the killer," also called "the flower-arrow," also called "the five arrows," for it shoots a person's five senses — appearing amid form and creating every kind of state to delude and confuse a practitioner. In creating an agreeable state, it may take the form of parents or siblings, the very image of the buddhas, or the lovable form of a fine man or woman, drawing the mind into attachment. In creating a disagreeable state, it may take the form of a tiger, wolf, lion, or rākṣasa, every kind of terrifying image, to frighten a practitioner. In creating a state neither disagreeable nor agreeable, it stirs up the mind through ordinary matters, causing one to lose dhyāna-concentration — hence it is called Māra.

Commentary: This third section explains Māra's own disturbance — that is, the demon-son of the heavens. Its aim is to destroy two kinds of wholesome quality already attained and increase two kinds of evil not yet arisen; sometimes sending demon-soldiers and demon-generals, sometimes coming in person — this demon is the hardest of all to subdue. The nature-spirit and harassing spirit discussed above are Māra's distant relations; Māra's own disturbance is his close relation.

As for why Māra's own disturbance is also called "the flower-arrow" and "the five arrows": it is like a single flower flying toward one — to the eye it looks like a flower, but in truth one has been struck by an arrow, able to harm body and life. Hence it is called "the flower-arrow." The Great Treatise asks: what is called a demon? Answer: a demon is what breaks the life of wisdom and ruins the dharma of the path — hence it is called a demon...

The three kinds of state this demon manifests do not exceed the three poisons. In creating an agreeable state — parents, siblings, images of the buddhas, playful laughter and speech, song, dance, and deviant views — this arises from craving. In creating a disagreeable state — the form of a tiger, wolf, lion, rākṣasa, or yakṣa, binding, beating, whipping, cutting, and dismembering — this arises from anger. In creating a state neither disagreeable nor agreeable — such as scorching the body with the five fires, or starving and throwing oneself from a cliff — this arises from delusion. States of this kind belong to the very same class as the three poisons themselves, and even craving attachment to the world in general is likewise a demonic affair.

As the Abhidharma Mahāvibhāṣā Treatise says: the Buddha, having put on his robe and taken up his alms-bowl, entered the city to beg for food. Māra thought to himself: "I ought to destroy this monk's own dharma of the path." He then manifested as a cart-driver, whip in hand, wearing tattered clothes, hair disheveled, and approached the Buddha, asking: "Have you seen my ox?" The Buddha, recognizing this as Māra's own disturbance, said to him: "Evil demon, where would there ever be an ox at all, that you should need one?" The heavenly demon thought to himself: "This monk knows I am a demon" — and said to the Buddha: "The sense-field of visual contact is my own vehicle, and so on through the sense-field of mental contact, likewise my own vehicle. Monk, where do you think you are going?" The Buddha replied: "I am going to that place where none of the six kinds of sensory contact exist at all — the very place you yourself cannot reach. That is where I am going." Māra had taken himself to be like a charioteer, and the six kinds of sensory contact to be his own vehicle, able to drive this vehicle and carry every sentient being throughout the three realms — and so nirvāṇa itself is a place he can never reach. Hence the Buddha said: "I am going to the place free of the six kinds of sensory contact, the very place you cannot reach" — that is, nirvāṇa itself.

Root Text: As a sūtra verse says:
"Desire is your first army; sorrow the second. Hunger and thirst the third army; craving thirst the fourth.
Sleep the fifth army; dread the sixth. Doubt and regret the seventh army; anger the eighth.
Gain and false renown the ninth; self-conceit and contempt of others the tenth. Armies such as these overwhelm and bury the renunciant.
I, through the power of dhyāna and wisdom, break every one of your armies — and, having accomplished the buddha-path, will bring every person across."

Commentary: What has been explained above concerns the ghost-and-spirit demon and Māra's own demon-son — that is, the harassing spirit-demon among others, which manifests every kind of pleasing or displeasing sound and the like — the five sense-objects of form, sound, smell, taste, and touch — using these five to disturb a person, causing them to lose their own wholesome dharma, giving rise to affliction, and keeping them revolving in birth-and-death...

As the verse in the Miscellaneous Treasures Sūtra says: "Desire is your first army" — just as a worldly army has several divisions, so too the demon-king's own army divides into ranks — the very first rank being nothing other than your own desire. Armies of this kind overwhelm and bury the renunciant — yet I, through the power of dhyāna-concentration and wisdom, subdue and break every one of your armies; though you have no wish to let me pass, I will reach the very place you cannot reach — that is, accomplishing unsurpassed, true, complete awakening, realizing the pure, unobstructed true reality of nirvāṇa itself. From this, I give rise to compassion with a sense of shared identity, and, with great heroic strength, great compassion, and a spirit of great fearlessness, follow the stream throughout the nine realms of being, broadly bringing across every suffering, afflicted sentient being lost in ignorance and delusion — hence it is said, "having accomplished the buddha-path, will bring every person across."

Root Text: Once a practitioner is aware of a demonic affair, one should drive it off at once. There are two methods. The first is driving it off through calming: whenever one sees any outward, evil demonic state, recognizing it entirely as illusory and deceptive, one is neither anxious nor afraid, neither grasping nor rejecting it, giving rise to no false discrimination — the mind settles into stillness, and the demon fades away of itself. The second is driving it off through insight: if, seeing any of the various demonic states described above, calming alone fails to remove it, one should turn instead to observe the very mind that sees, finding it to have no location at all — what, then, is there left for the demon to trouble? Contemplating in this way, it will soon fade away. Should it still fail to depart, one need only keep the mind correct, giving rise to no thought of dread, never sparing one's own body or life, correct mindfulness unmoved — knowing that the suchness of the demon-realm is precisely the suchness of the buddha-realm: one and the same suchness, not two different kinds of suchness. Understanding this fully, there is nothing in the demon-realm to reject and nothing in the buddha-realm to grasp — the Buddhadharma manifests of itself, and the demonic state dissolves of itself.

Commentary: This explains the method for driving off a demon. Once a demonic affair has arisen, if it is not driven off, one falls prey to its deception. There are two methods. The first is driving it off through calming: whenever one sees any outward, agreeable or disagreeable demonic state, recognizing it entirely as illusory and unreal, giving rise to no anxiety or fear, and neither grasping nor rejecting it, but simply letting the mind settle into stillness — the demon dissolves of itself! Just as Great Master Zhiyi, cultivating contemplation at Huading on Mount Tiantai, had the demon-king transform into his own relatives and family members, even his own beloved parents, all appearing before him — the master, recognizing this as a demonic state, simply held true reality deeply in mind, settling the mind in empty stillness, fully understanding all of it to be illusory transformation, with, at root, nothing there to be seen at all — and before long the demon withdrew and vanished. This was accomplished entirely through the effort of calming, driving off every demon.

The second is cultivating insight: if calming alone fails to remove it, one should turn instead to observe the very mind that sees — who, in fact, is the seer, and what, in fact, is seen? Finding no object there at all, searching both inwardly and outwardly, it ultimately cannot be found — what, then, is there left for the demon to trouble? Contemplating in this way, it will soon fade away. These few lines deserve particular attention — they are, in truth, the very best method for breaking through a demon. Should it still fail to depart even then, one should correct the mind and make the intention sincere, fully understanding that the four great elements are, at root, empty, and the five aggregates are not a self, giving rise to not a single thought of dread or fear, never sparing one's own body or life, correct mindfulness unmoved, fully understanding both the deviant and the correct, holding them both with equanimity, knowing that the suchness of the demon-realm and the suchness of the buddha-realm are one and the same suchness, not two — a single, equal mark alone, treating the demon neither as an enemy nor the Buddha as a friend, settling into this reality, resting in still cessation itself.

If one is able to do this, the deviant cannot interfere with the correct — at this point correct illumination shines forth clearly, and even should demons come to disturb one, this very demonic affair can be turned into an object of inconceivable contemplation instead. This very demonic state, in its own substance, already contains the hundred dharmas of the ten realms — every dharma converges on this demon, going no further. It is like a single dream containing every event within it: one demon is every demon, every demon is one demon, neither one nor every — right where it stands, at once empty, at once conventional, at once the middle. Every demon being one demon is true emptiness; one demon being every demon is wondrous conventional existence; neither one nor every is the middle way.

The demon-realm is itself the Dharma-realm, inherently pure from the start — the demon-realm never departs from being the very buddha-realm itself, not two, not different, with no distinguishing mark between them at all. In this way there is nothing in the demon-realm to reject and nothing in the buddha-realm to grasp; whether a buddha appears or not, nature and characteristic remain ever-abiding — hence the Buddhadharma manifests of itself, and the demonic state dissolves of itself.

One should know that sentient beings, through grasping and rejecting, delight and aversion, are troubled by demons precisely because of this, and are unable to resolve birth-and-death — which is to say, it is not the demon that troubles a person, but the person who troubles themselves. If the mind neither grasps nor rejects, neither delights nor is averse, fully understanding that the demon's suchness and the Buddha's suchness are the same, then the very demon itself becomes the completion of the path — this is the most fundamental method of all.

Root Text: Further, should a demonic state fail to fade away, one need not grow anxious about it; should it fade away, one need not feel glad about it either. Why is this? No one, sitting in meditation, has ever actually been eaten by a demon transformed into a tiger or wolf, nor has anyone ever actually become husband or wife with a demon transformed into a man or woman. When such an illusory transformation occurs, a foolish person, failing to understand it, gives rise to fright or craving attachment, and, through this, the mind grows disordered, concentration is lost, and derangement follows — this affliction is entirely brought on by the practitioner's own lack of wisdom, not by anything the demon has actually done. Should demonic states trouble a practitioner and fail to depart for months or even years, one need only keep the mind correct, mindfulness firm, never sparing one's own body or life, harboring no anxiety or fear. One should recite mantras for countering demons from the great Mahāyāna vaipulya sūtras, reciting them silently, holding the Three Jewels in mind. Upon rising from concentration, one should likewise recite mantras to protect oneself, and repent with a sense of shame, reciting the prātimokṣa as well. The deviant cannot interfere with the correct, and in time it will fade away of itself. Demonic affairs are numerous beyond telling; one must skillfully recognize them.

Commentary: The great Mahāyāna vaipulya sūtras are the Śūraṅgama, the Vimalakīrti, the Sūtra on the Contemplation of the Mind's Own Purification, the Sūtra of Liberation Through Understanding the Profound and Secret, and others. Mantras for countering demons are the Śūraṅgama Mantra, the Great Compassion Mantra, and others. The Three Jewels are the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṅgha — all things honored and treasured throughout the world, hence called "jewels," though there are distinctions between the abiding, the identical-substance, the distinct-aspect, and the greater- and lesser-vehicle senses of the term. "Prātimokṣa" means the precepts, likewise divided into greater- and lesser-vehicle forms. If a practitioner, troubled by a demon within concentration, silently recites every precept and the Mahāyāna sūtras of the Three Jewels, the demon naturally dissolves, and samādhi naturally manifests.

This is why a beginning practitioner must, without fail, stay close to a good spiritual friend — for difficulties of this kind do occur. A demon entering a person's own mind is able to throw a practitioner's mind and spirit into derangement, alternating between elation and distress, and can, through this, bring on genuine affliction and even death; or, at times, it grants a certain deviant dhyāna-concentration, wisdom, spiritual power, or dhāraṇī, teaching and instructing others so that people place their faith and submission in it — only afterward destroying that person's own transmundane, wholesome undertaking, and ruining the correct Dharma. Manifestations of this kind, in all their variety, are more than can be told; only their essential outline is given here, so that a practitioner, while sitting in meditation, does not carelessly accept whatever state arises.

Stated most essentially: if one wishes to dispel the deviant and return to the correct, one should contemplate the true reality of every dharma, skillfully cultivating calming and insight — nothing deviant then remains unbroken. Hence the Treatise says: "Apart from the true reality of every dharma, everything else is a demonic affair." As a verse says:
"Wherever there is discrimination and conceptual thought, this is precisely Māra's own net; where there is no movement and no discrimination at all, this is precisely the seal of the Dharma."