As all things are buddha-dharma, there is delusion and realization, practice, and birth and death, and there are buddhas and sentient
beings. As the myriad things are without an abiding self, there is no delusion, no realization, no buddha, no sentient being, no birth and
death.
The buddha way is, basically, leaping clear of the many and the one;
thus there are birth and death, delusion and realization, sentient beings and buddhas. Yet in attachment blossoms fall, and in aversion weeds spread.
To carry yourself forward and experience myriad things is delusion.
That myriad things come forth and experience themselves is
awakening. Those who have great realization of delusion are
buddhas. Those who are greatly deluded about realization are
sentient beings. Further, there are those who continue realizing
beyond realization, who are in delusion throughout delusion.
When buddhas are truly Buddhas, they do not necessarily notice
that they are buddhas. However, they are actualized buddhas, who
go on actualizing buddhas. When you see forms or hear sounds fully
engaging body-and-mind, you grasp things directly. Unlike things
and their reflections in the mirror, and unlike the moon and its
reflection in the water, when one side is illumined the other side is
dark.
To study the buddha way is to study the self. To study the self is to
forget the self. To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things.
When actualized by myriad things, your body and mind as well as
the bodies and minds of others drop away. No trace of realization
remains, and this no-trace continues endlessly.
When you first seek dharma, you imagine you are far away from its
environs. But dharma is already correctly transmitted; you are
immediately your original self. When you ride in a boat and watch
the shore, you might assume that the shore is moving. But when
you keep your eyes closely on the boat, you can see that the boat
moves. Similarly, if you examine myriad things with a confused body
and mind you might suppose that your mind and nature are
permanent.
When you practice intimately and return to where you
are, it will be clear that nothing at all has unchanging self.
Firewood becomes ash, and it does not become firewood again. Yet,
do not suppose that the ash is future and the firewood past. You
should understand that firewood abides in the phenomenal
expression of firewood, which fully includes past and future and is
independent of past and future. Ash abides in the phenomenal
expression of ash, which fully includes future and past. Just as
firewood does not become firewood again after it is ash, you do not
return to birth after death.
This being so, it is an established way in buddha-dharma to deny
that birth turns into death. Accordingly, birth is understood as no-
birth. It is an unshakable teaching in Buddha's discourse that death
does not turn into birth. Accordingly, death is understood as no-
death.
Birth is an expression complete this moment. Death is an expression
complete this moment. They are like winter and spring. You do not
call winter the beginning of spring, nor summer the end of spring.
Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water. The moon
does not get wet, nor is the water broken. Although its light is wide
and great, the moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. The
whole moon and the entire sky are reflected in dewdrops on the
grass, or even in one drop of water.
Enlightenment does not divide
you, just as the moon does not break the water. You cannot hinder
enlightenment, just as a drop of water does not hinder the moon in
the sky. The depth of the drop is the height of the moon. Each
reflection, however long of short its duration, manifests the vastness
of the dewdrop, and realizes the limitlessness of the moonlight in the
sky.
When dharma does not fill your whole body and mind, you think it
is already sufficient. When dharma fills your body and mind, you
understand that something is missing.
For example, when you sail out in a boat to the middle of an ocean
where no land is in sight, and view the four directions, the ocean
looks circular, and does not look any other way. But the ocean is
neither round or square; its features are infinite in variety. It is like a
palace. It is like a jewel. It only look circular as far as you can see at
that time. All things are like this.
Though there are many features in the dusty world and the world
beyond conditions, you see and understand only what your eye of
practice can reach. In order to learn the nature of the myriad things,
you must know that although they may look round or square, the
other features of oceans and mountains are infinite in variety; whole
worlds are there. It is so not only around you, but also directly
beneath your feet, or in a drop of water.
A fish swims in the ocean, and no matter how far it swims, there is
no end to the water. A bird flies in the sky, and no matter how far it
flies, there is no end to the air. However, the fish and the bird have
never left their elements. When their activity is large, their field is
large. When their need is small, their field is small. Thus, each of
them totally covers its full range, and each of them totally
experiences its realm. If the bird leaves the air, it will die at once. If
the fish leaves the water, it will die at once.
Know that water is life and air is life. The bird is life and the fish is
life. Life must be the bird, and life must be the fish. It is possible to
illustrate this with more analogies. Practice, enlightenment, and
people are like this.
Now if a bird or a fish tries to reach the end of its element before
moving in it, this bird or this fish will not find its way or its place.
When you find your place where you are, practice occurs, actualizing
the fundamental point. When you find you way at this moment,
practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point. For the place, the
way, is neither large nor small, neither yours nor others'. The place,
the way, has not carried over from the past, and it is not merely
arising now.
Accordingly, in the practice-enlightenment of the buddha way,
meeting one thing is mastering it--doing one practice is practicing
completely. Here is the place; here the way unfolds. The boundary of
realization is not distinct, for the realization comes forth
simultaneously with the mastery of buddha-dharma.
Do not suppose that what you realize becomes your knowledge and
is grasped by your consciousness. Although actualized immediately,
the inconceivable may not be apparent. Its appearance is beyond
your knowledge. Zen master Baoche of Mt. Mayu was fanning
himself. A monk approached and said, "Master, the nature of wind is
permanent and there is no place it does not reach. Why, then, do
you fan yourself?" "Although you understand that the nature of the
wind is permanent," Baoche replied, "You do not understand the
meaning of its reaching everywhere." "What is the meaning of its
reaching everywhere?" asked the monk again. The master just kept
fanning himself. The monk bowed deeply.
The actualization of the buddha-dharma, the vital path of its correct
transmission, is like this. If you say that you do not need to fan
yourself because the nature of wind is permanent and you can have
wind without fanning, you will understand neither permanence nor
the nature of wind. The nature of wind is permanent; because of
that, the wind of the buddha's house brings forth the gold of the earth
and makes fragrant the cream of the long river.
