Chapter Two: Mindfulness of the Body

Among the Four Foundations of Mindfulness, the first is mindfulness of the body, known as contemplating the body as impure. The second is mindfulness of feelings, contemplating the various sensations of the six consciousnesses. The result of this contemplation is that the sensations of the six consciousnesses are all suffering; not only are they impermanent and subject to arising and ceasing, but they are also all suffering. The third is mindfulness of the mind, contemplating the impermanence of the thoughts of our six consciousnesses. Finally, there is mindfulness of dhammas (phenomena), contemplating the selfless nature of all phenomena. When all four foundations of mindfulness are accomplished through contemplation, one can sever the view of self. The first foundation, mindfulness of the body, involves abiding in the contemplation of the body and is divided into ten parts.

After completing the first part of mindfulness of the body, one can sever the view of the body (sakkāya-diṭṭhi). Once the view of the body is severed, one will never again regard the material body as the self or as belonging to the self; this is approaching the first fruition (sotāpatti), very close to the actual attainment of the first fruition. Subsequently, by severing the view of self regarding the several consciousnesses, recognizing that the conscious mind is also not the self and does not belong to the self, and understanding that none of the five aggregates subject to clinging are the self, one can completely sever the view of self. Once the view of self is severed, the three fetters are immediately broken. From then on, the karmic causes for the three lower realms are extinguished, and in future lives one will never again fall into the three lower realms. After seven more rebirths in the human and heavenly realms, one attains liberation. If, after severing the view of self, one diligently practices further, one can attain the second fruition of Once-Returner (sakadāgāmi), and after returning only once more to the human or heavenly realm, one attains liberation.

By diligently practicing further and attaining the first dhyāna (meditative absorption), and severing the two fetters of sensual desire and ill-will, one can attain the third fruition of Non-Returner (anāgāmi). After one more existence in a heavenly realm, one attains liberation without needing to return to the human realm for further practice. If one then continues diligent practice, severing the subtle conceit and the attachment to the form and formless realms, and cultivates to the fourth fruition of Arhat, one can liberate oneself from the suffering of the three realms and enter parinirvāṇa (final nirvana without residue). However, if we wish to become Buddhas, we cannot enter parinirvāṇa. We can also choose not to go to the heavenly realms, because in the heavenly realms one enjoys much merit, and consuming too much merit makes it difficult to advance on the path. We can choose to return to the human realm to practice or go to other Buddha lands to practice. This way, we can rapidly increase the wisdom gained through cultivation and realization and swiftly attain Buddhahood.

This touches upon the issue of rebirth grades discussed in the Contemplation Sūtra (Amitāyurdhyāna Sūtra) and also involves the question of in which world it is faster to achieve accomplishment. After we realize the mind and attain fruition, we can make a choice beneficial for the rapid progress of our path, considering how to practice to attain Buddhahood most swiftly—whether it is fastest in the Sahā world or in other Buddha lands. After attaining fruition and realizing the mind, one gains the ability to be reborn according to one's vow. One can go to the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, go to Maitreya's Inner Court, ascend to the heavens, or return to the human realm; the choices become very broad. Before this, we can only drift according to karmic forces, pulled by karmic influences, with no ability to be in control whatsoever.

The Buddhist sūtras state that after realizing the mind and seeing the nature, at the time of death during the intermediate state (antarābhava), one can be reborn in any of the Buddha lands in the ten directions according to one's vow. This means that due to the merit and realization of mind-realization, while in the intermediate state, if one wishes to be reborn in a particular Buddha land, merely giving rise to the thought will cause the Buddha of that land to come and receive one. Then one will be reborn seated on a lotus within a vajra throne, without even needing the lotus to close or the material body to be enclosed within the lotus. If we have not realized the mind, we lack this superior condition and can only drift within the six realms according to karmic forces. As for which of the six realms one drifts into, that depends on the karmic seeds from past lives, our karmic actions in this life, and the degree of greed, hatred, and delusion in our minds.

Because sentient beings have not severed the three fetters, they cannot guarantee not falling into the three lower realms; the vast majority still go to the three lower realms. Among them, eighty to ninety percent go to the hungry ghost realm. Why do so many go to the hungry ghost realm? Because sentient beings all have greed and stinginess, which correspond to the hungry ghost realm, and thus they go there to suffer the karmic retribution. Greed results in the retribution of a hungry ghost; severe greed results in the retribution of extreme poverty and lowliness. Beings in the hungry ghost realm are both poor and lowly, destitute and possessing nothing; the more greedy one is, the less merit one has. Greed draws inward, causing merit to drain away; greed for one unit of money reduces merit by a hundredfold, a thousandfold, or even immeasurably. Giving (dāna) flows outward, increasing merit; the merit returned for money given away is a hundredfold, a thousandfold, or immeasurable, depending on the recipient. This is called "giving and gaining" (she de); only by giving can one gain, without giving there is no gain. Therefore, as long as we have greed, we diminish merit; without merit, we correspond to beings in the lower realms and will go to the lower realms to suffer.

In the first part of mindfulness of the body, the World-Honored One explained the concept and meaning of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. The second part begins to teach us the practice of contemplation. Where do we start? We start the contemplation with the out-breath and in-breath. Whether breathing out or breathing in, the mind should be clear internally, without distraction. Knowing a long in-breath, knowing a long out-breath, the mind is not scattered and not dull. When breathing in, one should clearly know the state of the entire body; when breathing out, one should also clearly know the state of the entire body. Then, when breathing in, as all bodily activities cease and become completely tranquil, one should clearly know this internally. Similarly, when breathing out, as one's bodily activities become completely tranquil and cease, one should also clearly know this internally, without distraction or dullness.

This concentration may take a long time for ordinary people to achieve; some with sharp faculties may achieve it in a few days. Some may need a month, two months, or even longer to cultivate their concentration to this level. Those who need half a year to a year to achieve it usually have minds that are too scattered; they cannot be aware of the whole body, and clearly knowing even one thing may be difficult—their concentration is truly poor, and their minds cannot unify. Therefore, the speed of progress in studying Buddhism and practicing differs for each individual. Some can achieve it in a few hours; their minds can quickly become still, and they can clearly know the state of the entire body, inside and out—the condition of the internal body and external body they know clearly. Most people, however, need prolonged, continuous training.

The third part of mindfulness of the body is to contemplate the state of one's own bodily activities while walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. This is dynamic meditation (dong chan), training concentration in motion. If concentration in motion is well cultivated, the mind is tranquil at all times and in all places; the mind is clear and luminous at all times, with only a knowing present within. This knowing is a single thought of clear knowing; the mind is not turbid, not chaotic. This knowing within the mind is very important. In the future, when engaging in Chan (Zen) investigation, one can replace this knowing with the topic of investigation (hua tou), turning the hua tou into a single thought. If the practice of mindfulness of the body is successful, resulting in a constant knowing within the mind—without language, without words—one can use this knowing precisely for Chan investigation. Investigating our true mind, the eighth consciousness (ālaya-vijñāna), the hua tou "Who is dragging this corpse?" Take this phrase as a single thought, as a knowing, firmly suspended within the mind, suspended within the mental awareness.

Suspending it like this back and forth will strengthen concentration. Later, when one continues the investigation, the thought will become very deep and subtle, rather than there being an internal voice reciting the hua tou. When there is no concentration, the mind needs to recite; when there is concentration, the mind does not need to recite, nor do sounds, words, or images need to appear—it is simply a knowing deeply hidden within the mind. Later, this knowing will transform into a mass of doubt (yi qing), becoming a ball of doubt. That mass of doubt is deeply suspended within the mind. When it is suspended for a certain time, the mass of doubt will break, and one will realize the mind and attain enlightenment. Therefore, this method of cultivating concentration is not only applicable to the practice of the Hinayāna (Lesser Vehicle) but also to the practice of the Mahāyāna (Great Vehicle). Genuine Buddhadharma connects both vehicles; all dharmas are interconnected. As long as we can cultivate one type of concentration, with that concentration, we can enter another type of concentration and open up another kind of wisdom.

Concentration includes the concentrations of the desire realm, the form realm, and the formless realm. The desire realm concentration has its characteristics, the form realm concentration has its state, and the formless realm concentration has its appearance. As long as we use one method to develop concentration, the mind can become tranquil at any time and in any place. With this concentration, one can then engage in Chan investigation, and the principles of both Mahāyāna and Hinayāna will be understood. Therefore, practitioners of Mahāyāna need not reject the practices of the Hinayāna; the two vehicles can be integrated. When the practice of mindfulness of the body is brought to completion, and the mental formations cease, one then empties out the so-called "I" within the mind, negates it, confirms that none of these are the self, that there is no self, and one no longer regards the material body as the self. The mind holds no concept of the body; the mind abides without clinging to any single thing. Yet, one can still know everything; there is still a knowing mind present, identical to the state of mind in Chan investigation.

In the future, when engaging in Chan investigation, one can replace this knowing mind with a hua tou, or with a Chan kōan, or with the most essential phrase in the Buddhadharma for investigation, and one will be able to penetrate it and understand its meaning. Concentration is interconnected; concentration contains wisdom. That wisdom is the clear and luminous mind, which is lucidly aware of all phenomena; this lucid awareness is the wisdom of contemplation (vipassanā). When the wisdom of contemplation is perfected, one can enter the path and realize the truth. This is dynamic meditation within walking, standing, sitting, and lying down—being clearly and luminously aware while walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, knowing all states of the internal body and external body, all phenomenal characteristics. Then, when the concept of the body arises internally, one eliminates and empties this concept, knowing that this body is not the self.

Do not constantly harbor the concept of a body, nor have concepts of other things. The states of walking, standing, sitting, lying down, the internal body, the external body—whatever phenomena arise and whatever phenomena cease—the mind should be clear about them all. Achieving concentration to this degree is not easy; we must have patience and gradually practice and train. Once this method is mastered, any other type of concentration can be easily achieved. As long as one masters the fundamental method of cultivating concentration, one can achieve it using any other method and will achieve it very quickly.

The fourth method of mindfulness of the body is that no matter where we go or return, no matter what we do—going out in the morning and returning in the evening—the routes taken during the day and the things done should all be performed with clear comprehension (sampajañña), the mind neither scattered nor dull or confused, the mind always clearly and luminously aware of all actions being performed. Whether looking ahead or looking back, all bodily, verbal, and mental actions are performed with clear comprehension; even going to the toilet is done with clear comprehension. Internally, there is a clear and luminous knowing, a knowing nature. Cultivated to the end, there is a knowing without words or language; this is access concentration (anāgamya-samādhi). This concentration is relatively deep; that knowing is more luminous. Upon reaching the state of knowing without words or language, one can engage in Chan investigation and hua tou practice. This method of practice gathers the mind, not letting it scatter outward, focusing it on contemplating the material body. When the mind is free of distracting thoughts, concentration arises.

The fifth method for cultivating mindfulness of the body is to contemplate the impurity of the material body. At the end of the contemplation, one asks oneself: Is this impure material body me? When the contemplation is successful and samādhi arises, one will confirm that the material body is not the true self. This material body, from head to toe, inside and out—hair, body hair, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones—whatever is solid, whatever is liquid—is all extremely filthy and impure. Is this body, composed of the combination of these things, me? Ultimately, one determines that it is not me, clearly knowing that the material body is impermanent, subject to arising and ceasing. I am not filthy; I am not composed; I am not formed later; even less am I subject to arising and ceasing—none of these are me. Through repeated contemplation, the internal concept of the body is removed; the notion of the material body as the self is negated by oneself, and at this point, the view of the body (sakkāya-diṭṭhi) is severed. After the mind is without the concept of the material body as self, one should also not grasp anything else; everything becomes empty. External things—wealth, sensual pleasures, fame, food, sleep—are also not the self, nor does one regard these things as belonging to the self. Thus, one severs the view of self regarding the body and the view of things belonging to the self.