The Simultaneity of Quenching and Pecking

Before attaining enlightenment, every practitioner is like an unbroken egg. When and how this egg is broken is indeed a profound matter requiring deep contemplation. If the timing is ill-chosen, breaking it will only result in a scrambled or spoiled egg—inedible, let alone yielding a chick. Relying solely on external forces to break the egg often produces nothing but useless, scrambled eggs.

Therefore, cultivation primarily depends on oneself; external forces need only provide a little warmth. The internal transformation and change must come from within. Those who wish to avoid becoming useless, scrambled eggs should not overly rely on others' guidance. Some, having studied only briefly while their "egg" remains completely raw and hard, demand their master swiftly guide them to enlightenment. What enlightenment could possibly be achieved this way? No realization would be of any use—they would remain useless material. An egg barely warmed up, if broken prematurely, might at best be stir-fried and eaten, never amounting to anything significant.

When the life within the eggshell nears maturity, it exhibits various signs. Ultimately, the chick will peck at the shell itself. Only when it cannot break through, precisely where its beak is about to fracture or tear, should an external force deliver a gentle tap to shatter it—thus allowing life to emerge successfully, robust and tenacious.

The birth of the chick results overwhelmingly from its own efforts, with only a small part depending on the external warmth and the hen’s care.

So it is with cultivation: the greater part relies on one’s own diligent effort, while a smaller part depends on the master’s instruction and aid.

In the past, ancestral masters guided disciples through simultaneous pecking from inside and tapping from outside, perfectly timing their intervention. Why? Because true ancestral masters and genuine Chan masters possessed genuine realization—not only the power of the Way but also the eye of the Way, discerning the finest details and skillfully adapting teachings to the disciple’s readiness. Disciples of that era were fortunate—exceptionally so. Masters would never intervene unless the Thirty-seven Aids to Enlightenment were cultivated and the Six Paramitas perfected. The disciple’s Dharma-body and wisdom-life were paramount; masters acted with utmost responsibility, never overstepping their capability.

If someone offers guidance recklessly, merely to make up numbers, one should recognize that such a person lacks genuine realization. Steer clear for safety’s sake. Guard the egg well—do not break it lightly. Reject anyone who attempts to break it prematurely, regardless of their insistence.