How to Practice Contemplative Practice (Vipaśyanā-caryā) to See the Way? (Manas Training Chapter)

Original text of the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, Chapter Five: (Cūḍapanthaka)佛愍我愚。教我安居。调出入息。我时观息。微细穷尽。生住异灭。诸行刹那。其心豁然。得大无碍。乃至漏尽。成阿罗汉。住佛座下。印成无学。佛问圆通。如我所证。返息循空。斯为第一。

Explanation: The Buddha taught Cūḍapanthaka to dwell in a quiet place and regulate the outgoing and incoming breath; this regulating is at the same time the observation of the breath. When Cūḍapanthaka contemplated the incoming and outgoing breath, he observed, in the end, that his breath was extremely subtle, so subtle that it was on the verge of ceasing. He also observed the subtle process of the breath's arising, brief abiding, alteration, and passing away, and could even discern that the outgoing and incoming breath operated moment by moment—that is, the in-breath and out-breath were a process occurring instant by instant, not a continuous, unbroken whole; it was a divisible, mechanized process and procedure, something pieced and put together.

At this point, he suddenly realized that the incoming and outgoing breath was empty and illusory, not real. Thereupon Cūḍapanthaka's mind suddenly opened up, and he abruptly awakened to the fact that his own five aggregates were empty and without self, no longer obstructed by these arising-and-ceasing dharmas. His afflictions were instantly severed, and he attained the fourth fruit of the great arhat. Cūḍapanthaka's contemplative experience was to turn back and observe where the breath comes from and where it goes, until he discovered that the place of coming was empty and the place of going was also empty—the entire process of the breath's arising, abiding, alteration, and ceasing was empty and utterly unobtainable.

Contemplating the incoming and outgoing breath is the latter part of contemplating the breathing process. The initial part of contemplating the breath is observing the air passing in and out through the nostrils; this part is relatively coarse and easy to observe. Once the air enters the body, it gradually becomes breath connected with the channels; this part is more subtle, and indeed extremely subtle breath may no longer be related to the breathing air at the nostrils. It is the body's own automatic movement of breath and channels—even if breathing stops and no external air enters the body through the nostrils, this breath-channel movement will still continue slowly and faintly. This is the state of the fourth dhyāna where breathing ceases, yet the person does not die. So how is this breath initiated? The human body has pores, and external air enters the body through the pores and becomes breath, propelling the flow of blood to sustain the basic needs of life activity.

If one is not in the fourth dhyāna, such a minute amount of breath cannot propel the blood to flow rapidly; the supply of blood and nourishment the body needs would be insufficient, and one would feel stifled and unable to bear it. The fourth dhyāna is the concentration of purity through abandoning thought; with no mental activity, one does not consume so much vital energy and blood, and the nourishment provided by pore-breathing is sufficient.

The headquarters of the breath is at the dantian, from where it moves throughout the whole body. Contemplating the incoming and outgoing breath mainly means contemplating the breath at the dantian; one rising and falling of the dantian is one breath. When one's energy is abundant and the mind is even finer, one can follow the breath as it moves throughout the body and contemplate the breath of the whole body. The breath is coarse or fine, fast or slow; when contemplating, one merely calmly, detachedly, and objectively感受 the movement of the breath, without adding any mental effort or thoughts. As the meditative concentration deepens and the mind becomes very refined, one will observe that the movement of the breath is extremely faint and slow, moving in segments, with the connections between before and after not so tight, as if pieced together, feeling less and less real.

This is like contemplating a ring of fire: ordinarily, when we look at a fire ring, we see a fire ring, not knowing that it is formed by a torch being swung rapidly—there is no fire ring at all; it is an illusion, a misperception. When the mind becomes refined and one observes carefully, one discovers that there is no fire ring at all—just a torch moving point by point along a fixed circular track. Then suddenly one's mind opens up and one greatly awakens: there is no fire ring at all, and the torch is also empty. The mind instantly becomes empty and liberated, and from then on is no longer bound by the fire ring; no longer needing to circle around the fire ring day after day without respite.

Contemplating the incoming and outgoing breath, as well as contemplating all dharmas, follows this same principle. When one contemplates to the end, one discovers that there are fundamentally no such things, objects, persons, or dharmas—all are empty, and thus one sees the Path. As long as one observes, as it truly is, the arising, abiding, alteration, and ceasing of dharmas, one can see the Path in an instant. Once one understands the direction that contemplative practice points to, masters the correct method of contemplative practice, and one's cultivation reaches the proper level, seeing the Path is not difficult. The difficulty lies in the mind not being on the Path of cultivation—still valuing and clinging to worldly dharmas, unwilling to let go; one's views and concepts play the decisive role.

Because sentient beings are foolish and their minds are coarse, lacking the power of meditative concentration, everything they see is an illusion. They see all worldly dharmas as just those dharmas—utterly real, without the slightest doubt—and so they desperately and ceaselessly grasp at all dharmas, ending up battered and covered with wounds, even paying with their lives, yet still stubbornly striving. They beautify it by calling it "hard work and striving," "having great ambitions," "being proactive and enterprising," "having a sense of career," "having ideals, responsibility, and commitment." For those empty dharmas in which there are fundamentally no persons or things, they pay every price—truly stupid beyond words.