Cultivation and Zen Practice for Attaining Enlightenment (Part Two)

Chapter 2: How to Cultivate Meditative Concentration Well (2)

Twelve: There Are Many Ways and Methods to Cultivate Meditative Concentration

The ways and methods of cultivating meditative concentration differ from person to person. One reason is that people's indriya differ; another reason is that meditative concentration comes from many directions, and any method can lead to entering samādhi. For some people, when they contemplate the meaning of the Dharma, meditative concentration disappears and the mind becomes scattered; whereas for others, when they contemplate the meaning of the Dharma, the power of concentration arises very quickly, and their meditative concentration is also deep. The latter relies on wisdom to guide meditative concentration, prompting its arising and deepening, rather than relying solely on sitting meditation to induce meditative concentration. Wisdom is the hand that parts the clouds to reveal the light. Using wisdom to direct the mind toward the Dharma meaning being contemplated, contemplating it with single-minded focus, meditative concentration will arise, combining concentration and wisdom. And the equal cultivation of Samādhi and Prajñā most easily gives birth to meditative absorption (samādhi), making it easy to attain the fruit of liberation.

In the course of practice, one should be good at discovering one's own strengths and advantages, playing to one's strengths and avoiding weaknesses; then practice will be swift. Those with good wisdom need not, like everyone else, begin contemplation from the four foundations of mindfulness, or begin cultivation from the contemplation of the white skeleton, endlessly groping for a path of practice. One can devise a unique practice method suited to oneself. As long as one finds that practicing according to this path brings rapid progress, then persist in it. After all, there are immeasurable paths of practice and many differences in indriya, so it is impossible for everyone to use the same practice method in a uniform, cookie-cutter way.

Thirteen: How to Make Thoughts Fewer and Fewer

Question: Not long after sitting down, I first feel the body gradually settling, and the breath becomes very faint. At the same time, I notice thoughts constantly popping up, but the mind consciousness does not run off following the thoughts. Sometimes it feels like dreaming—each thought seems accompanied by a vague image, or rather, more like a shadow than an image, flashing past as the thoughts arise and cease, like sleeping while awake. Does this state count as entering samādhi? Do I need to focus attention on a single point to reduce the thoughts?

Answer: This situation is a state of having concentration. Only when the mind has settled can one discover one's own thoughts, and only with the support of the power of concentration can one refrain from running off after thoughts. Only with the support of the power of concentration can one carefully observe thoughts, feeling that they are as unreal as a dream, feeling that thoughts are as illusory as shadows. After this state continues for a period of time, the thoughts will gradually decrease. Whether or not one can control the thoughts, as long as one continues to deepen meditative concentration, the thoughts will gradually diminish and may even disappear entirely. When meditative concentration is relatively stable, one can then contemplate the meaning of the Dharma deeply and subtly, investigate the meaning of the Dharma, sort out clearly the principles one has learned and the threads of the Buddha's teachings, and then concentrate the mind on making key breakthroughs.

 In meditative concentration one can discover thoughts—who is doing the discovering? Who discovers whose thoughts? This discovering is the discovery of the mind consciousness, discovering that the thoughts arising from the manas appear one by one, going from vague to clear. This shows that meditative concentration enables the mind consciousness to discover thoughts it had never discovered before, and to observe them with increasing clarity—this is the effect produced by the power of concentration. If the mind consciousness follows the thoughts of the manas, and the mind consciousness discovers this, it is called the introspection of the mind consciousness, which is self-validating cognition (svasaṃvedana); discovering the thoughts of the manas is the function of self-cognition (svasaṃvitti).

The mind consciousness no longer runs off after the thoughts, which shows that the mind consciousness and the manas can be separated, and that they mutually restrain, mutually perfume, and mutually influence each other. When the degree is relatively deep, when the mind is more refined and more wise, one can discern which consciousness is defiled by afflictions, which consciousness appears somewhat purer, or whether all consciousnesses are defiled, or all somewhat pure; and one can further discern who can restrain whom, who can influence whom, who can perfume whom. Originally the manas was more heavily defiled and could drag the mind consciousness along. Now with meditative concentration, the power of concentration has strengthened, and once the mind consciousness awakens, it no longer runs after the manas' deluded thoughts. What will happen afterward? Continue cultivating concentration, and the thoughts of the manas will become fewer and fewer, the mind will become purer and purer, and the defilements will become lighter and lighter. At this point, thinking about problems becomes very deep and meticulous, with clear and distinct threads of logic, and wisdom is elevated.

When the manas engages in its grasping pursuit, it drags the mind consciousness along, making the mind consciousness's thoughts unceasing and its grasping pursuit unending. The manifestation of the manas's grasping pursuit is unceasing thoughts and a troubled, agitated mind. If you say the manas has a grasping nature, many people will acknowledge it; but when you say the manas has thoughts, some will object, because many people simply do not know what grasping pursuit means; they can only recite texts without following the Dharma, and so claim the manas has no mental factor of mindfulness. But in fact, if the manas had no mental factor of mindfulness, the mind would not be disturbed—neither good nor bad things could appear; in the worldly realm it would be like an idiot, and in terms of practice it would mean the mind was already extremely pure and meditative concentration deep. Only by actually engaging in contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) on one's own body and mind world will wisdom arise, knowing how things truly are, having wisdom that accords with reality, knowing things as they really are. Reciting from books is relying on people, not relying on the Dharma. The Dharma requires one's own truthful observation; when observation yields wisdom, one will realize the Dharma.

Fourteen: Meditative Concentration Can Be Cultivated in Walking, Standing, Sitting, and Lying Down

The purpose of cultivating meditative concentration is to cultivate the mind, to let the mind settle down. Although when the body is still, the mind's activity can be reduced and the mind can also be settled. But if in the samādhi of bodily stillness the mind has become very pure, then when the skill is mature, one can likewise maintain mental stillness and mental concentration even amid the body's rhythmic movement. Although maintaining mental stillness during bodily activity is somewhat more difficult, it is still possible to have the body move while the mind does not move. When the body moves but the mind does not, one encounters more conditions, which better tests the mind's power of concentration; at the same time, the causes and conditions for realizing the Path also increase greatly, which is relatively advantageous for investigating Chan. The eradication of the view of self (satkāya-dṛṣṭi-prahāṇa) can also occur amid bodily movement, when contact with conditions and circumstances sparks inspiration, thereby realizing the emptiness of the body and the emptiness of self.

Meditative concentration of the same degree—the samādhi with the body moving demonstrates the skill of cultivating concentration better than the samādhi with the body still, and the power of concentration is more solid. This needs the samādhi of stillness with the body at rest to nourish and maintain it; cultivating both together, they complement and promote each other. Generally speaking, complete bodily stillness is also a kind of obstruction, unfavorable for strengthening the power of concentration. Therefore, after sitting for a period of time, one should rise and do walking meditation (caṅkrama), move around a bit; the qi and blood circulate more smoothly, the mind becomes more tranquil, and the mind's thinking becomes deeper and more penetrating.

Fifteen: Little Tips for Cultivating Meditative Concentration

When the power of concentration is poor, one aspect is the heavy habit-energy of the mind's grasping pursuit; another aspect is blockage of the body's sinews and channels. Therefore, starting from unblocking the body's sinews and channels is also a good method for strengthening meditative concentration. How to unblock the sinews and channels so they do not clog? That is to regulate the diet—eat less, or simply fast for three to five days, drink plenty of water, and then gradually transition to eating less. The standard for eating less depends on one's physical constitution and psychological endurance. Generally speaking, reaching one- or two-tenths full produces fairly obvious effects; with longer duration, the effects will be even better.

What effects? It is that in the process of gradually resuming eating, the mind is very clear and bright, deluded thoughts are few, and within the body there naturally arises a qi channel running rhythmically with strong force, making both body and mind comfortable and tranquil. This qi channel gathers the whole body together; when sitting, one does not want to move, does not want to leave the seat all day, no scattered thoughts arise in the mind, and one is quite focused. At this time, the train of thought in the mind can be regulated at will; one can exclude other miscellaneous matters and think exclusively about the Dharma meaning one needs to investigate. Just like a remote control that can switch channels at will—this remote control is held by oneself, obeying one's own commands. In this way, investigating the Buddha's Dharma and engaging in contemplative practice on it can quickly get on track.

This qi channel in the body can also expel various illnesses in the body's organs, such as diseased qi like dampness and cold, and regulate the functions of the spleen, stomach, and other organs. Therefore, eating less and fasting are also good methods for eliminating illness. Those with poor physical constitution and those who cannot cultivate meditative concentration well can give it a try; for the specific method, refer to the rules of bigu (grain-avoidance fasting).

Sixteen: How to Use the Śūraṅgama Mantra to Cultivate Meditative Concentration and Investigate the Meaning of the Dharma

When the Śūraṅgama Mantra has been memorized fairly fluently, and recitation has gradually entered a fine state with meditative concentration quietly arising, continuing to recite becomes somewhat strained. At this point, one should single out the character "Nan" of "Namo," letting the following characters not appear, fixing the mind on the character "Nan" without moving, focusing and focusing again, without scattered thoughts or delusions. After the mind has stabilized, then raise a questioning doubt—doubt where this character "Nan" comes from, from where it arises, where it is at this moment. Without language, words, or sound, just keep doubting, without using the mind consciousness to think, reason, or ponder; the questioning doubt hangs deeply in the manas's mind. When this skill has been practiced to maturity, switch to another Dharma meaning one wishes to investigate—either doubt the self of the aggregate of form, or doubt the self of the aggregates of feeling, perception, volitional formations, and consciousness, or doubt "who is the one dragging this corpse around"—this is then investigating the huatou.

What kind of questioning doubt to choose should be determined according to one's own faculties and one's current state of study and practice. Most people's Mahāyāna foundation is not deep enough; merit and so forth have not yet been cultivated into place, and the great bodhi vow has not yet been aroused. If they choose to investigate the huatou of Mahāyāna Dharma hoping to see the mind and see its nature, there may be no results—it could be a waste of time. It would be better to honestly lay a solid foundation in the Small Vehicle, doing more contemplative practice and contemplation on the Small Vehicle Dharma, setting aside the Mahāyāna for now, and even more so not expending much energy on the profound Yogācāra. Life is impermanent; do not keep wandering around hungry in the cornfield—hurry up and pick an ear of corn to take home and eat; after filling your belly, you can always continue wandering.

Some people, although they have not eradicated the view of self, have a relatively solid Small Vehicle foundation, have fully recognized that the five aggregates (pañca-skandha) are without self, have aroused the Mahāyāna bodhi mind and pure great vows, and have a relatively strong bodhisattva mind to benefit and bring joy to sentient beings. Such people can choose to investigate Chan. In the process of investigating Chan, they can gradually distance themselves from the entanglement of the five aggregates, gradually eradicate the wrong view/false view (mithyā-dṛṣṭi) of taking the five aggregates as self, and can attain the fruit before seeing the mind and realizing the Path, or attain the fruit at the very instant of seeing the mind and realizing the Path, passing through both the Great and Small Vehicles at once. But the possibility of passing through both at once is very small; usually one first attains the fruit, and only after a period of time sees the mind and realizes the Path. Those who can realize the Path in this very life, whether Mahāyāna or Small Vehicle, are people whose foundation from past lives is relatively deep, whose roots of goodness and merit are both great, and who are very close to realizing the Path. But such people are extremely, extremely rare. So everyone should not casually presume that they have attained the fruit, become enlightened, and so on—there is no such easy thing.

In short, using the Śūraṅgama Mantra as an opportunity and a stepping stone, one can quickly get onto the right path. Whether in meditative concentration and wisdom, or in precepts, or in eliminating karmic obstructions, practice is very rapid, because the power of blessing is very great. In our practice, we rely on one side on our own strength and on the other side on the power of the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Dharma-protecting deities; only when the two forces are used together does practice go smoothly. When there is strength to borrow, borrow it; when there is light to borrow, borrow it too. What is borrowed must be remembered to be repaid. When you are able to give sentient beings assistance and light, do not be stingy. If there is a stingy mind, caring only for oneself and ignoring sentient beings, the power of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas certainly cannot bless you, and you yourself will gain nothing.

Seventeen: Practice Easily Succeeds in a Quiet Environment (1)

Are afflictions easier to eradicate in quietude, or amid noisy crowds? This question cannot be settled by one's own imagination, nor by looking at what worldly people say; rather, one must refer to the successful experience of those genuine practitioners who have already realized the Path. Because they have succeeded, the path they walked is worth our reference. As for those worldly people who have not succeeded, no matter what they say, what they say is not based on experience, and their views and opinions are not necessarily correct. In quietude there are no people, affairs, or things; one does not face other people, and afflictions do not appear. If one cannot observe one's own mental state, then do not observe it; as long as one elevates meditative concentration, afflictions can be subdued through samādhi and also eradicated. After eradication, when facing all people, affairs, and things again, the mind is much more stable.

Where can these successful experiences be borrowed from? They can be borrowed from the accounts in the Buddhist sūtras of the multi-kalpa practice experiences of the various Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and great virtuous ones. In the practice experiences of all the great virtuous ones, it is shown that only practicing in quietude brings accomplishment—realizing the Path in quietude, eradicating afflictions in quietude. The Buddhas of the ten directions all cultivated and became Buddhas in quietude. Moreover, the vast majority of them left home to cultivate the Path, in an environment even quieter than that of lay practitioners.

There are also lay practitioners who have achieved accomplishment, though records of them are very few. But the foundations of these accomplished lay people in past lives were also relatively deep; they had their own separate practice space and ample time. Because their merit was very great, they did not have to toil daily to support family and relatives or for food, clothing, shelter, and transportation; their practice conditions were abundant, so they could achieve accomplishment quickly. From the perspective of cause and effect across three lifetimes, these accomplished lay people had also left home and cultivated the Path in past lives, having already attained a certain accomplishment, and in this life, with a bit of additional work, they realized the Path again. Because they had their own independent practice space, the continuity of their practice could be guaranteed without interruption; at home this cannot be guaranteed. Unless one's merit is very great, combined with roots of goodness from past lives, accomplishment is possible; otherwise it is very difficult.

Because of continuous practice, the skill of meditative concentration and the skill of contemplative practice can be cultivated, and contemplative practice can keep deepening. It is like boiling water: only when the fire is continuous can the water get hotter and hotter, finally reaching the boiling point. It is the same with cultivating skill—it requires continuity; only when the skill has matured to a certain degree can one realize the Path.

How to make the practice continuous? First, ensure sufficient time and a suitable place of practice—both conditions must be present to keep up diligent effort; otherwise the skill cannot be elevated. Because worldly afflictions and interfering conditions are too many, practice cannot advance. Guarantee an independent space every day for cultivating concentration and contemplative practice and contemplation, a fixed practice time and a quiet environment every day—only then can the skill become continuous. But even this still falls short of the continuity of leaving home in a quiet environment. Monastics have their own separate practice environment, control their own time, and control what they practice; their skill is continuous and unbroken. Only thus is it easy to succeed in contemplative practice, for meditative concentration to keep growing, and for the hope of eradicating the view of self to be great.

Eighteen: Practice Easily Succeeds in Quietude (2)

Why did the Buddhas establish monastic communities in places similar to the Sahā world? Leaving home and staying at home are, after all, different. After leaving home, all time is at one's own disposal, all time used for practice—whether eating, alms-begging, or sitting in meditation. The environment one is in is a practice environment. Although all the people live together, everyone's goal is practice, and there is no mutual interference. Even if there are small conflicts, without much handling they resolve naturally—no big problems. Because it does not involve worldly interests, the afflictions are not so heavy. Although some monastic communities have many people, they are after all tranquil, with a very good energy field and practice atmosphere. That is why the Buddha established the monastic order for leaving home to practice.

Judging from what is recorded in all the sūtras and śāstras, the accomplishments of those who left home to practice far exceed those of lay practitioners; the number of accomplished lay practitioners is very small, and records in the Buddhist sūtras are also very few. In the Jātaka stories of Śākyamuni Buddha, everything tells of how the Buddha practiced when he was a Bodhisattva. In the vast majority of the Buddha's practice time, whether left-home or lay, he practiced alone in quiet deep mountains. Even in this life, having already become a Buddha and come to the Sahā world eight thousand times, he still manifested the appearance of one who has left home.

In the very life in which the Buddha manifested becoming a Buddha, he appeared in the form of one who had left home. Although he was born in a royal palace, with time freely at his own disposal, with his own independent living environment and practice space, the Buddha still had to leave home, go to the Snow Mountains to practice austerities, and finally realize the Path under the Bodhi tree. Since even the Buddha chose to leave home and cultivate the Path, then the bodhisattvas of equanimity (equal enlightenment), the bodhisattvas of wondrous enlightenment, and the other bodhisattvas of the various bhūmis all practiced alone in quietude—none practiced in groups. But after each Buddha and Bodhisattva achieved accomplishment in practice, they all returned to the human world to expound the sūtras and teach the Dharma for sentient beings, helping them realize the Path.

From the course and experience of my own practice, all the accomplishments of my skill were achieved alone in a quiet environment. When I returned to the crowds, my skill was obstructed and could not deepen further, so I went around choosing quiet environments to practice, and only thus did I complete the practice goals of each stage. Practicing amid crowds is very difficult. Therefore, I suggest that when everyone's skill in meditative concentration and contemplative practice has reached a certain degree, and they want to advance by leaps and bounds by adding a fierce fire, they should as much as possible set aside all affairs around them and go to a quiet place to increase the fire, making the skill deeper and more thorough. Only thus is it possible to eradicate the view of self or see the mind. Only when both environment and time are suitable will practice be continuous and the fire sustained, and only then can one cross over each gully and ditch.

If practice is always lukewarm, the time required will be very long, and eradicating the view of self will be very difficult. Choosing a quiet environment to practice, the Path-cause grows quickly. In ancient times, those non-Buddhist practitioners also chose to leave home, dwelling in quiet mountain forests, either practicing alone or practicing in groups. They only cultivated meditative concentration, with a unified practice goal, mutually urging and supporting one another; their meditative concentration was cultivated quickly and deeply, because they were far from crowds, without interference, and afflictions were also subdued quickly. Whether from Buddhism, or from other religions, or from non-Buddhist paths, as far as practice is concerned, whenever there was accomplishment, it was all cultivated in quietude.

Nineteen: A Student's Contemplative Experience in Samādhi (1)

In today's morning session, following the Master's instruction to "train the ability to contemplate the meaning of the Dharma within samādhi, suspending it in the manas," I first took several deep breaths, both expelling the body's stale air and filling the whole body with fresh air—from the nasal cavity, throat, and chest down to the qihai (dantian), then with a pause, pressing it down to the ankles and the Yongquan point on the soles of the feet. The mind then became empty and limpid, soft and harmonious. Then I sat quietly recollecting the Buddha (buddhānusmṛti), using sound to do the Buddha's work, vibrating the cells of the chest, abdomen, and especially the head, achieving the effect of unblocking the meridians and expelling pollution and cleansing defilement. Through recollection of the Buddha, the qi channels of the head were connected through, and the qi channels of the soles were drawn up to the head, forming a "South-Water-North-Diversion water supply project" system, flowing freely without obstruction, achieving the goal of opening up the great north-south arteries.

Furthermore, sitting quietly and prostrating to the Buddha loosened the Ren and Du meridians, and the mind was already empty, clear, and tranquil. So I took up the Dharma meaning of the fourth fascicle of the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, the most difficult to understand, the question raised by Pūrṇa: "一切根尘阴处界等。皆如来藏。清净本然。云何忽生山河大地," and read briefly through the fourth fascicle. Because I had the power of concentration, as I read I entered into it; the mind could focus on the sūtra text, and contemplating along with the text, I gained understanding. After the relevant Dharma meanings were sorted out, they were handed to the manas to ruminate. Sometimes the manas would toss out a thought, the mind consciousness would catch it—oh, it is the Dharma meaning of the Great Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra—and immediately connect it with the Dharma meaning of the Śūraṅgama Sūtra; where there had been non-understanding, it melted away like hot soup dissolving ice.

It turns out that when the mind consciousness contemplates the meaning of the Dharma, the manas is also busy within, constantly and silently according with the mind consciousness—this is a seamless connection between the two in a state of focused meditative absorption. If in ordinary times one has a questioning doubt about these Dharma meanings, the manas is already busy at work within; when one sits quietly contemplating the meaning of the Dharma, the manas pours out the Dharma meanings it has prepared all at once, and the mind consciousness, while receiving them, joyfully says: "Buddy, buddy, it is exactly so." Even before one has begun to suspend it in the manas, the manas has already burst through the dam.—Brother, I've been waiting for you a long time.

Therefore, constant mindfulness in ordinary times is precisely the cooperation of mind consciousness and manas, "inseparable as husband and wife, as the beam and the weight of a scale." In fact, this is the power of concentration in motion. In the Chapter on the Perfect Penetration through Recollection of the Buddha of Mahāsthāmaprāpta Bodhisattva, mindful recollection of the Buddha is the same as our constant mindfulness in ordinary times. In the end, of course, one will certainly see the Buddha, or certainly have the mind open and understanding dawn—suddenly everything becomes clear. This morning's session, with the manas contemplating the meaning of the Dharma, resolved problems quickly, and again there was more than an hour of samādhi. Truly: one day within samādhi, a thousand years in the world.

Twenty: A Student's Experience of Cultivating Meditative Concentration (2)

These past few days doing morning and evening sessions, I have tried various sitting methods—the Six Wonderful Gates, focusing on one point, observing the breath, and so on. I found the sitting prostrations to the Buddha, sitting recollection of the Buddha, and deep breathing taught by the Master the easiest to operate and quickest to get started with, with quite good results. Especially sitting prostrations to the Buddha: they can both open up the blood circulation of the lower limbs and stretch the Du meridian along the back, which is very helpful for opening the Ren and Du meridians; moreover, samādhi comes quickly. Just abide in that meditative absorption, or turn to contemplating the meaning of the Dharma—both are wonderful.

Among other quiet-sitting methods, what suits me relatively well is fixing the mind on the tip of the nose, observing the in-and-out breath, like a gatekeeper; this way one is less affected by the breath and easily attains samādhi. Also, the "Yinshizi Sitting Meditation Method," successfully revised by Jiang Qiaowei of the Republican era, fixes the mind on the dantian (qihai), without thinking or worrying; it also easily leads to entering samādhi. Of these two methods, one guards the "mysterious female" (xuánpìn), the other guards the qihai—both grasp the key link of cultivating meditative concentration.

The Master once taught that the method that suits oneself is the best method. To cultivate meditative concentration, one must grope out, by oneself, a set of methods that correspond to oneself and are effective; only then can one succeed quickly. Then, suspend the meaning of the Dharma in the manas, letting the manas, like a cow chewing its cud, slowly digest the Dharma meaning and merge it back into self-nature (svabhāva). In practice, the key lies in one's mode of thinking (view). The mode of thinking determines the way out; the clearer the thinking, the more powerful the action, and the better the results.