Ven. Shi Ruyuan's Summary of Contemplative Practice (2025-9-20)

Ven. Shi Ruyuan: Let me summarize my practice over the past year and most of this year. At first I practiced the contemplation of the body as impure among the four foundations of mindfulness. Gradually I naturally began to contemplate everyone's physical body, and I saw that no matter how young and strong a body is, it is still so impure—even my own body is just as impure. While contemplating, when people beside me spoke to me, I could not hear them; the sounds seemed to be very, very far away, and my head felt dazed as if in a dream, with no mind at all to listen. Yet the sound of the Buddha's name kept arising in my mind, impossible to suppress. The purer my mind became, the lighter my head felt, and the contemplation of the Dharma teachings would not be interrupted. As soon as my mind settled down, the recitation of the Buddha's name continued without interruption, and I could also hear the sounds of cars outside and of household appliances; whatever the sound, it all felt like the sound of the Buddha's name. The fewer thoughts I had, the clearer the Buddha's name in my mind became—impossible to suppress, and I could not even turn the thought away.

Now, generally when I wake up in the morning, I first sit up and quietly listen to the sound of the Buddha's name for a while. Then I get up, wash my face, brush my teeth, and sit in meditation; while washing my face and brushing my teeth, the sound of the Buddha's name in my mind still continues without interruption, and at that time I turn my contemplation to the impurity of the physical body. I contemplate a person's whole process from birth as an infant, through childhood and youth, to young adulthood and middle age, and finally to old age, finally lying in bed awaiting death. When a person dies, it is very painful; when the last breath is cut off, only the out-breath comes and no in-breath enters, and immediately after, the eyes stare and roll back white—that is how my father passed away. When he passed, it was just as Master described in the Dharma teachings: as painful as a turtle having its shell peeled off while alive. The painful process of my father's death is deeply imprinted in my mind; sometimes when I sit down and recall this matter, the white bones of my father appear in my mind, and then the white bones shatter and disappear.

 Therefore I made a great vow to diligently study and practice the Dharma teachings taught by my benevolent Master Shengru. When I first began hearing the Dharma, I did not know how to practice. My elder brother and sister-in-law told me that if I did not understand, I should just recite the Buddha's name earnestly. From that time on, I recited the Buddha's name with a seeking mind, but after reciting for several years, my mind still gave rise to wandering thoughts. Only after I had the good fortune to encounter the Dharma teachings of my benevolent Master Shengru did I undergo a very great transformation.

In 2019, because my father broke his leg from a fall, I went to care for him for more than four months, during which I often went to a nearby monastery to be close to the Three Jewels. My greatest good fortune was that the monastery's master invited Master Shengru to administer the Bodhisattva Precepts to the fellow practitioners, and I received the Bodhisattva Precepts along with them. My guiding master said that my karmic conditions were so excellent, that I could meet a great good teacher to receive the Bodhisattva Precepts. On the day Master Shengru administered the Bodhisattva Precepts to us, I felt the Master's power of blessing was inconceivable: it made my physical body become fixed and unable to move, and my mind felt empty and vacant—a feeling I had never had before.

Afterwards, whenever I read Master Shengru's Dharma teachings, I could still smell a fragrance after returning home. After some more time, whenever I read Master Shengru's Dharma teachings, I could smell the fragrance—even reading the teachings on my phone, I could smell it. The fragrance was not the smell of burning incense; it was an indescribable fragrance, one I had never encountered in this world. At the same time, a fragrance also arose from my own physical body, and several times fragrance also emanated from the gaps between the teeth on my lower left side and from my mouth.

When I sit in meditation morning and evening, I first contemplate the breath a few times, but after contemplating for a while I unconsciously forget it and involuntarily begin contemplating the Dharma teachings. There is one thing I do not understand and would like to ask my Master: when I sit and contemplate the Dharma teachings, my mind is awake and clear, so why is it that when I recite the Śūraṅgama Mantra, as I recite along I become unaware of everything? It is as if half asleep and half awake. Reciting with my eyes open feels tiring; reciting with my eyes closed, as I recite along it is as if I have fallen asleep, and when I wake up I am still reciting, but I do not know which section I have recited to, so I have to start over from the beginning. Sometimes I have to repeat this four or five times before I can recite it through; but if I read from the book, I am very clear-headed.

Assessment: When contemplating the Dharma teachings, the six consciousnesses need to cooperate—especially the mind consciousness must cooperate in deliberating on the teachings. The mind consciousness is in an active state, leading the first five consciousnesses to be active together, and so a person is awake and not drowsy. At this time the wisdom of the mind consciousness is employed; with wisdom there is no drowsiness, without wisdom there is drowsiness. So when a person is drowsy, one should rouse one's spirits to think about a question, and one will awaken from the drowsiness. When reciting the Śūraṅgama Mantra, once one has become familiar with the mantra, the mind consciousness no longer needs to deliberate or be active, and it settles down into quietude; thus one can easily and unknowingly sink into drowsiness, or enter into meditative concentration. When the mind consciousness is not used, it weakens, and the person is in samādhi; when in samādhi, if one forcibly makes the six consciousnesses become active, one will of course feel fatigued. If one recites the Buddha's name and enters samādhi, then reciting the Buddha's name aloud again will also feel tiring, and reciting the Buddha's name in the mind will also feel tiring; reciting the mantra follows the same principle.