Summary of Observational Practice by Shi Ruyuan (25/9/20)

Shi Ruyuan: Summarizing my cultivation practice over the past year and the majority of this year. Initially, I practiced the contemplation on the impurity of the body, one of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. Gradually, I naturally began to contemplate the physical forms of everyone, realizing that no matter how young or robust the body may appear, it is fundamentally impure—including my own. While contemplating, when people nearby spoke to me, I couldn’t hear them; their voices seemed very far away, as if in a dream. My mind felt dull and unfocused, utterly disinterested in listening. Yet, the recitation of the Buddha’s name continuously resonated in my mind, unstoppable. The purer my heart became, the lighter my head felt, and contemplation on the Dharma’s meaning flowed without interruption. When my mind settled, the recitation of the Buddha’s name became continuous and unbroken. I could even hear the sounds of vehicles outside and the hum of household appliances within my home—all sounds seemed to merge into the recitation of the Buddha’s name. The fewer thoughts I had, the clearer the Buddha’s name resounded in my mind, impossible to suppress or shift away from.

Now, when I wake up in the morning, I first sit up and quietly listen to the recitation of the Buddha’s name for a while. Then I get up, wash my face, brush my teeth, and sit in meditation. Even while washing my face and brushing my teeth, the recitation of the Buddha’s name continues uninterrupted in my mind. At this point, I shift my contemplation to the impurity of the physical body. I contemplate the entire process of a person’s life—from birth as an infant, through childhood and adolescence, into youth and middle age, and finally to old age, ending with lying in bed awaiting death. Death is excruciatingly painful. When the last breath is drawn, there is only exhalation without inhalation. Immediately after, the eyes stare blankly, rolling back—my father passed away exactly like this. When he died, it was just as the Master described in the Dharma teachings: as agonizing as peeling a turtle’s shell while it is still alive. The painful process of my father’s death is deeply imprinted in my mind. Sometimes, when I sit down to meditate, this memory arises, and my mind presents an image of my father’s skeleton, which then shatters and vanishes.

Therefore, I made a great vow to diligently practice the Dharma teachings expounded by my revered teacher, Shengru. When I first began studying the Dharma, I did not know how to practice. My elder brother and sister-in-law advised me, "If you don’t understand, just recite the Buddha’s name sincerely." From then on, I recited the Buddha’s name with an attitude of seeking, but after several years, my mind was still filled with wandering thoughts. It was only after I had the fortune to encounter the Dharma teachings of Venerable Shengru that I underwent a profound transformation.

In 2019, my father broke his leg, and I cared for him for over four months. During that period, I frequently visited a nearby temple to draw close to the Three Jewels. My greatest blessing was when the temple’s master invited Venerable Shengru to confer the Bodhisattva Precepts upon fellow practitioners, and I received them alongside them. My guiding master said my karmic conditions were exceptionally fortunate to encounter a great virtuous teacher who conferred the Bodhisattva Precepts. On the day Venerable Shengru conferred the precepts upon us, I experienced the master’s inconceivable blessing power. My physical body became fixed and immobile, and my mind became completely empty—a sensation I had never felt before.

Afterward, whenever I read Venerable Shengru’s Dharma teachings, I could still smell a fragrance upon returning home. Some time later, simply reading the teachings—even from my phone—would evoke this fragrance. The scent was not that of burning incense but an indescribable fragrance, unlike anything encountered in the mundane world. Simultaneously, my own body began emitting a fragrance, and several times, fragrance emanated from the gaps between my lower left teeth and from my mouth.

During my morning and evening meditation sessions, I would first observe my breath several times, but after a while, I would unconsciously forget and spontaneously shift to contemplating the Dharma’s meaning. There is one matter I do not understand and wish to ask the master about: When I sit and contemplate the Dharma’s meaning, my mind is clear and lucid. But why is it that when I recite the Shurangama Mantra, I lose awareness as I recite? It feels like being half-asleep—reciting with open eyes feels exhausting, and reciting with closed eyes causes me to drift off as if asleep, only to awaken still reciting without knowing where I left off, forcing me to start over. Sometimes, I have to repeat this process four or five times to complete the recitation. Yet, when I read from the book, my mind remains perfectly clear.

Commentary: When contemplating the Dharma’s meaning, the six consciousnesses must cooperate, especially the mental consciousness, which must actively engage in reflecting on the Dharma. The mental consciousness is in an active state, mobilizing the first five consciousnesses, keeping the person alert and free from drowsiness. At this time, the wisdom (prajna) of the mental consciousness is employed—where there is wisdom, there is no drowsiness; where there is no wisdom, drowsiness arises. Therefore, when one feels drowsy, one must rouse the spirit to ponder questions, thereby awakening from stupor. When reciting the Shurangama Mantra, once the mantra becomes familiar, the mental consciousness no longer needs to reflect or engage actively; it becomes still and quiet. This makes it easy to unknowingly slip into drowsiness or enter a state of concentration (samadhi). When the mental consciousness is inactive, it weakens, and the person enters samadhi. Forcing the six consciousnesses to move while in samadhi will naturally feel exhausting. The same principle applies when reciting the Buddha’s name until samadhi arises—reciting aloud or mentally will feel tiring, just as reciting mantras does.