The Spirit of Zen by Sam Van Schaik

sam van schaik
THE SPIRIT OF
ZEN
T H E S A C R E D L I T E R AT U R E S E R I E S
THE SPIRIT OF ZEN
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THE SPIRIT OF
ZEN
SAM VAN SCHAIK
P U B L I S H E D I N A S S O C I AT I O N W I T H
T H E I N T E R N AT I O N A L S A C R E D L I T E R AT U R E T R U S T
YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS

NEW HAVEN AND LONDON
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Copyright © 2018 Sam van Schaik
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The International Sacred Literature Trust was established to promote

understanding and open discussion between and within faiths and to
give voice in today’s world to the wisdom that speaks across time and
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ence of interfaith encounter and exchange which marks a new phase
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To Aaron and Kristian
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CONTENTS
Preface xi
PART I Introducing Zen 1
1 The Practice of Zen 3

2 Zen and the West 19
3 The History of Zen 31
4 The Lost Texts of Zen 47
5 Early Zen Meditation 63
PART II The Masters of the Lanka 83
6 Manuscripts and Translation 85

7 Jingjue: Student of Emptiness 88
8 Gun.abhadra: Introducing the Laṅkāvatāra 102
9 Bodhidharma: Sudden and Gradual 114
10 Huike: The Buddha Within 129
11 Sengcan: Heaven in a Grain of Sand 141
12 Daoxin I: How to Sit 150
13 Daoxin II: Teachings for Beginners 168
14 Hongren: The Buddha in Everything 181
15 Shenxiu: Zen in the World 194
Notes 209
References 244
Index 250
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P R E FA C E
In this book, I have tried to strike a balance between introducing

readers to Zen, and providing a translation that brings something new
even to those who are very familiar with the tradition. I have done this
by looking at the continuities between one of the earliest Zen texts
and the practice of Zen through the centuries, down to the present
day. Traditional presentations of religions tend to emphasize constant
truths, while academics often delight in discovering disjunctions and
contradictions. I have sought a middle way here as well, showing the
changes the Zen tradition has gone through over time and in different
cultural settings, while tracing threads of continuity that make it
possible for us to talk about a ‘Zen tradition’ at all.
Naturally, quite a bit of this book is about meditation. If readers
who are new to Zen are interested in taking up meditation practice,
there are some excellent books written by Zen teachers, some of
which are listed in the References. I defer here to the advice given by
James Ishmael Ford to anyone interested in beginning Zen medita-
tion:
if the Zen path sounds right for you, I would suggest you start by
taking up the practice of Zen meditation pretty much right now.
You can get the basics out of many good books: John Daishin
Buksbazen’s Zen Meditation in Plain English would be a good way to
start, as would Robert Aitken’s Taking the Path of Zen. A visit to a
local Zen group of any flavor can provide some hands-on instruc-
tion that can clarify most beginning questions.
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xii P R E FA C E
You don’t have to sign up for anything other than an introduc-

tory class, nor, I strongly suggest, should you. Just check things out.
If you like the group, perhaps keep going from time to time. But do
begin to sit at home regularly. Cultivate a discipline.1
Turning to the scholarly side of this book, this is my first published

translation of a Chinese text of some length, and I owe a debt of grati-
tude to those who have made it possible. First and foremost, for
encouraging me to learn and translate Classical Chinese, and for
reading and offering many helpful comments and corrections on this
text, I offer grateful thanks to Imre Galambos. I am also grateful for
Sinological advice offered by colleagues at the British Library,
including Susan Whitfield, Emma Goodliffe and Mélodie Doumy. I
would also like to thank Nathalie Monnet of the Bibliothèque
nationale de France for her insights into the manuscripts from the
Pelliot collection in Paris.
I am also immensely grateful for the work of scholars and practi-
tioners whose work has helped my understanding of the history, texts,
practice and indeed spirit of Zen. For this book in particular I would
like to mention Wendi Adamek, Christoph Anderl, Charlotte Joko
Beck, Marcus Bingenheimer, Jeffrey Broughton, Thomas and Jonathan
Cleary, Huw Davies, Bernard Faure, James Ishmael Ford, Griffith
Foulk, Taigen Dan Leighton, Carmen Meinert, John McRae, Jan
Nattier, Bill Porter, James Robson, Morten Schlütter, Robert Sharf,
Jonathan Silk, Kirill Solonin and Kazuaki Tanahashi. And for showing
how the principles of Mahayana Buddhism are manifested in daily life,
I owe immeasurable thanks to Lama Jampa Thaye.
There are an increasing number of excellent resources for studying
and translating Classical Chinese. Two of the best are the Digital
Dictionary of Buddhism and the Chinese Text Project, the results of
the tireless work of Charles Muller and Donald Sturgeon respectively.
Images of many of the manuscripts containing the Masters of the
Lanka are available on the website of the International Dunhuang
Project, and digital transcriptions have recently been made available
P R E FA C E xiii
by the Dunhuang Manuscript Full Text Digitization Project. In the

original spirit of the internet, all of these resources are free to use.
My work on this translation was supported by the European
Research Council, funders of the project Beyond Boundaries: Religion,
Region, Language and the State (ERC grant agreement no. 609823) – a
small example of the many good things that have come out of the
European Union. The idea for the book was first suggested by Malcolm
Gerratt at Yale University Press, and after his retirement the project
was overseen by Robert Baldock; the editors were Rachael Lonsdale
and Clarissa Sutherland, and the copy-editor was Beth Humphries. I
am thankful for their professional work and guidance. At an early
stage, Sarah Shaw offered sage advice which helped to shape the book.
Finally, I thank my wife Ananda, daughters and family for their kind-
ness, forbearance and support.
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INTRODUCING ZEN
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CHAPTER ONE
THE PRACTICE OF ZEN
Peace of mind
Cannot be summed up in words;
True understanding of it
Comes from your own heart.
Daoxin in Masters of the Lanka
Peace of mind
The earliest Zen teachers talked about meditation in terms of peace of
mind, a state free of the anxieties and irritations which afflict us all.
They taught that this peace is not to be obtained through our usual
preference of surrounding ourselves with what we like and banishing
what we dislike. Instead, it is to be found by getting to grips with the
nature of our own minds.1
This insight is at the heart of Zen. The Buddha’s teachings are
based on the principle that we want to be free from suffering, but are
going about it in the wrong way. Thus the Buddha’s four noble truths
begin with suffering, though ‘suffering’ is really too narrow a transla-
tion for the word he used, duh. ka. The dictionary translation of duh.ka
is wider, encompassing ‘uneasiness, pain, sorrow, trouble, difficulty’.2
Some translators prefer ‘unsatisfactoriness’.
In any case, while most of us are not always suffering, if we stop and
look within, there are few times that we can say we are free from a
feeling of unease, or the sense of something missing, expressed by
that awkward word ‘unsatisfactoriness’. Ultimately, we can’t escape
suffering itself, because we cling to the things we want and need even
3
4 INTRODUCING ZEN
though it is the nature of the universe to change, so at some point we

have to lose them.
To have peace of mind, then, is to be free from suffering, to be able
to face whatever happens with equanimity. Achieving peace of mind
will not come about through trying to satisfy our attachment to ease
and pleasure and aversion to discomfort and suffering. It is not the
successful accomplishment of one pole of that neurotic dichotomy,
but the peace that comes of letting go of all attachment and aversion.
And that only comes from dissolving our attachment to ‘I’ and ‘mine’.
The Buddha taught that everything is impermanent, in a process of
constant change; yet we look for a sense of permanence in our idea of
ourselves, our possessions, our friends. Because we invest in this
solidity, we suffer when things change. In Zen this is sometimes
taught through the metaphor of water freezing into ice. We attempt to
‘freeze’ the flow of the world into categories that make sense to us.
This creates the illusion of the unchanging self that we feel ourselves
to be, and the solid, essentialized phenomena that we feel we must
control, whether grasping and keeping them or pushing them away.3
This is not just about our experiences of ourselves. This ‘freezing’ is
also a solidification of our relationships – categorizing the fluid and subtle
back-and-forth of our relationships into this ‘self’, that ‘other person’ and
the things that we do to them, and they do to us. This blocks the intuitive,
compassionate activity of which we are capable, and it reduces our
personal interactions to an emotional calculus of help and hurt.4
This state of affairs – a frozen world – is what Buddhists call
samsara. It is not a place, but the sum of all the ways of perceiving,
reacting, thinking and behaving that bind us into patterns of suffering.
Recognizing these patterns and working on them is the path; finally
putting an end to them is enlightenment, or awakening. Anyone who
has achieved this is an awakened one, a buddha.
The nature of mind

The path to awakening takes a variety of different forms in the many
traditions of Buddhism. In Zen, the path from samsara to enlightenment
THE PRACTICE OF ZEN 5
is not a journey from A to B, but a gradual realization of something that

has always been there in our day-to-day awareness. We have everything
we need for awakening right here in our own minds, so there is no need
to rely on gods or other supernatural aids. Even the Buddha cannot help
us if we think of ‘buddha’ as something separate from what we are, for
there is no buddha apart from the mind. To put it another way, ‘the
nature of mind has always been pure from the beginning’.5
To say our mind is pure from the beginning is only to say that the
way we normally engage with the world is not fundamentally what we
are. The ingredients of our anxieties and irritations – clinging to our
own selfish needs, categorizing other people and things according to
our own desires and fears – are part of a repeating pattern, but they are
only one particular expression of our awareness, which is fundamen-
tally pure. This awareness simply is – always present but obscured by
our own confusion.
This pure awareness is there for everyone, but is like a pearl hidden
by dirty water; only when the water is allowed to settle can we see the
pearl. It is the practice of meditation, which is key to all Zen traditions,
that allows the dirt to settle and the waters to become clear. Thus
meditation is not primarily an intellectual activity, or an attempt to
transform one’s mind into something else. It is a way to let the mind
be, so that the dirt stirred up by our own turbulent thoughts and
emotions gradually settles.
This is why Zen teachers have often warned against becoming
entangled in ideas of what the mind, the world or enlightenment really
is. Many Zen stories express the idea that the mind, and indeed ‘peace
of mind’, is not what we might think. A famous example is this
dialogue between two of the founding figures of Zen, Bodhidharma
and his student Huike:
Huike said to Bodhidharma: ‘My mind is anxious, please pacify it.’

To which Bodhidharma replied, ‘Bring me your mind, and I will
pacify it.’ Huike said, ‘Although I’ve sought it, I cannot find it.’
Bodhidharma then said, ‘There, I have already pacified your mind.’6
6 INTRODUCING ZEN
This, like many Zen dialogues, points to the futility of seeking solu-
tions to our problems within our usual frameworks. Intellectual an-
alysis, though it has a crucial role in Buddhism, is often downplayed,
and Zen teachers warn against too much concern with books and
book learning. These statements must be taken with a pinch of salt,
for the Zen tradition itself has made a huge contribution to the litera-
ture of East Asia. What the stories are getting at is that becoming
fascinated by the literature, or by intellectual speculation, is to take a
path away from awakening.
The path needs a guide. In Zen, as in most Buddhist traditions, the
teacher–student relationship is key. While reading or hearing teach-
ings and going away to put them into practice can be beneficial, it is
akin to prescribing one’s own medicine; it might have no result, or it
might be dangerous. Buddhist literature often compares the teacher to
a doctor, and the student to a patient. Those wishing to travel the path
to awakening need to rely on a teacher’s qualifications and knowledge,
especially at the beginning, when it is easy to go off in the wrong direc-
tion entirely.7
Zen in practice
I am using the word ‘Zen’ here to encompass all the traditions of practice
that came from the original Chinese Chan teachers. ‘Zen’ is the Japanese
pronunciation of the Chinese character that is pronounced ‘Chan’ in
China. We only know the tradition by the name Zen because it was
introduced to the West from Japan, not China, and the same applies to
other key Zen terms such as zazen and koan. In any case, the word ‘Chan’
or ‘Zen’ is itself just the Chinese rendering of the Sanskrit word dhyāna,
‘meditation’. So ‘Chan’ and ‘Zen’ also just mean ‘meditation’.
So the schools of Zen are by definition specialists in meditation
practice. What is this meditation? It’s important, first of all, to know
that meditation is not just one thing. There are all kinds of meditation
in Buddhism, and many of them have been taught by Zen teachers.
Most fall into the category of zazen, sitting meditation. These days,
students of Zen are likely to encounter two principal methods of
zazen – the practice of ‘just sitting’ known as shikantaza and the

contemplation of phrases and dialogues called ‘koans’.
But before students get to these specialized Zen practices, they will
often be taught a simple method of concentrating the mind, which is
to focus on the breath. In this practice you sit in the lotus or half-lotus
position, with hands in your lap and eyes open (but not staring
ahead). While you sit, you try to keep your mind focused on the
movement of your breath. As an aid to this focus, students are often
told to count the breaths, usually from one to ten, before starting
again. When the mind wanders off in thought, you bring it back to the
breath and start counting again.
This simple practice is found in many other kinds of Buddhism,
including Theravada and Tibetan Buddhism. It goes back to some of
the earliest Buddhist writings, and came to China in the fifth century.
The enduring popularity of the practice is due to its simplicity and
effectiveness. It is easy to teach and practise, yet takes time to master,
and is eventually very effective in calming the mind to the point where
one can engage in other kinds of meditation. Yet it is not just a prelim-
inary practice, as the Zen teacher Robert Aitken has written: ‘Breath
counting is not the kindergarten of Zen. For many students it is a full
and complete lifetime practice.’8
In the practice of ‘just sitting’, one doesn’t focus on the breath or
any other object, and just lets the mind be. This may sound easy, but
the point is to remain present and aware, and not to wander off in
thought. This is not a state of mental blankness. Thoughts and
emotions are not suppressed, but our habitual clinging to them
relaxes, so that they pass over like clouds across the sky. One should
not strive for peace of mind, nor cling to it when one experiences it.
What’s more, Zen teachers emphasize that one should not think of
sitting as something that leads to enlightenment; to sit in the aware-
ness of the present moment is to be a buddha in that very moment.9
A more specific kind of Zen practice is the koan. These are the
apparently paradoxical questions and statements that Zen is well
known for, the most famous being, ‘What is the sound of one hand
8 INTRODUCING ZEN
clapping?’ Most koans are longer than these, being dialogues taken
from the biographies of Zen teachers, and held up for special atten-
tion. In practice, koans are contemplated by students, who present
their interpretation of the dialogue or phrase to the teacher, who can
then judge the student’s progress. Another use of the koan is to take a
very short phrase as the object of concentration, sometimes reciting it
like a mantra, in sitting meditation. This may result in a breakthrough,
a moment of awakening.
What is enlightenment?
Zen is not just about our own minds, our own practice, our own break-
throughs; Zen is very much about all living beings. This is because
Zen is part of the mahayana or ‘greater vehicle’ movement in Buddhism.
In the mahayana, every practitioner is a bodhisattva, someone who
aspires to liberate all living beings from the cycle of suffering. In order
to do so, the bodhisattva aspires to become a buddha, or in other
words, to experience enlightenment, or awakening (bodhi in Sanskrit).
This goal is expressed in the bodhisattva vow: the aspiration to
become a buddha for the sake of others.
Thus enlightenment is a moral imperative. To do it for one’s
own benefit alone is to be stuck in the habitual pattern of self-interest
that keeps us in the cycle of suffering. Yet to become a buddha is
to become someone who has completely transcended this self-
interest, having let go of the emotional and cognitive tendencies
that keep us locked into the cycle of suffering. This is a lofty goal,
and few practitioners will expect to become buddhas in this life, but
the ideal informs the whole of the path – the aspiration is the key
thing.
As one travels the path, one’s habitual tendencies may temporarily
weaken enough to allow brief glimpses of this state of awakening. In
Zen, particularly the Rinzai school of Japanese Zen, these glimpses are
what is known as kenshō or satori.10 In some of the writing on Zen in
English, such glimpses of awakening are also called ‘enlightenment’.
However, we should be careful to distinguish these different uses of
the English word ‘enlightenment’ which may cover quite different

concepts in the original languages, ranging from a momentary glimpse
to the state of being a buddha.
The modern Chinese Zen master Sheng Yen gives a helpful defini-
tion when he says that an experience of kenshō is ‘the beginning of
enlightenment’.11 And in his interviews with Chan monks in China
before the Communist Revolution, Holmes Welch reported a general
view which distinguished between intimations of enlightenment
(kāiwù) and full buddhahood:
They make a distinction between enlightenment, nirvana and

buddhahood. K’ai-wu, the Chinese phrase commonly translated as
‘to attain enlightenment,’ actually means to attain a degree of
enlightenment. There are large and small degrees.12
Thus the path of Zen is a continuous path to awakening. The bodhisat-

tva’s aspiration to wake up in order to be able to save all sentient beings,
though it may seem impossible, is fundamental to Zen practice. This is
bodhicitta (bodaishin in Japanese), the state of mind with which one
enters the practice of meditation. Without it, as Zen teachers have
warned through the years, the practice is likely to lead to pride, and be
derailed by desire for fame and gain. As the Japanese teacher Dogen
wrote: ‘But such things do not happen to those who have great compas-
sion and whose vow to guide sentient beings is vast and mature.’13
As for the nature of enlightenment itself, this is something that can
only be pointed out, but not really expressed. An awakened person
does not freeze reality into solid categories, transcending even the
fundamental difference between what is us (self) and what is not
(other). Since this duality underlies our very language, the state of
enlightenment cannot be expressed in words: ‘full enlightenment is
what is truly real, beyond language and speech’.14 So in Buddhism this
state is sometimes communicated through similes and metaphors,
and in Zen through other kinds of linguistic play, bending and
breaking the normal rules of language and communication.
10 INTRODUCING ZEN
The ethics of Zen

To follow the path of Zen is to follow the path of the bodhisattva. To
practise Zen without the bodhisattva’s altruistic aspiration would be
to isolate meditation from the wisdom and compassion of Mahayana
Buddhism. There are of course many presentations of Zen in the West
that have done this, so it’s important to realize that this is a radical
innovation. The ethical grounding of Zen can be seen in the daily
chants in Zen monasteries in Asia, which are now being translated and
chanted in Zen centres in the West as well.15
These chanted verses include one that summarizes the practice of
Buddhism in all traditions:
Refrain from unwholesome action.

Engage in wholesome action.
Purify your own mind.
This is the teaching of all buddhas.16
Here, ethics and the transformation of one’s mind go hand in hand.

Verses for taking refuge are chanted before each meditation session in
monasteries and meditation centres, expressing dedication to the
original teacher (the Buddha), his teaching (the dharma) and the
community of fellow practitioners (the sangha). And at the end of
each practice, any benefits accruing are dedicated to the welfare of all
living beings.
Another brief verse is traditionally chanted in the morning by
monks and nuns before putting on their robes:
Great is the robe of liberation,

A formless field of benefaction!
I wear the tathāgata’s teaching
To awaken countless beings.17
In this and other ways, the ethical precepts of Mahayana Buddhism

are expressed throughout the day. Another regular chant concerns the
ten actions to avoid – not to kill, steal, misuse sex, lie or become
intoxicated; not to slander others behind their backs or speak harshly
to their faces; not to be mean-minded or angry; and not to speak ill of
the Buddha, dharma or sangha.18 These commitments are reasserted
regularly in verses of confession, acknowledging all one’s past
misdeeds. And at other times of day, the bodhisattva’s aspiration is
restated in various ways, such as in verses chanted before meals:
The first spoonful is to end unwholesome actions.

The second is to cultivate wholesome actions.
The third is to awaken all beings.
Together may we realize the awakened way!19
These daily recitations reaffirm that the path of Zen is not just
about self-cultivation and freeing oneself from suffering, but grows
out of boundless love and compassion, not limited by our self-interest
and not directed by our personal preferences. Sitting and chanting like
this might seem quaint, with little relevance to the modern world. But
it is an act of commitment, and by stating one’s basic ethical principles
every day, they can be kept fresh, preventing the practitioner from
wandering away from them through the inevitable need to make
compromises.
Zen and emptiness

It is often said that the path of the bodhisattva is twofold, comprising
wisdom and compassion. The compassionate aspiration to save all
beings from suffering can only be actualized through wisdom. It
is wisdom that sees where compassion can be applied and thus
allows compassion to be turned into action. In Zen, as in other
schools of Mahayana Buddhism, wisdom means to truly understand
emptiness.
There is a great deal of philosophical writing about emptiness (in
Sanskrit, śūnyatā), but it is not inherently a complex idea. Emptiness
just means that all things are dependent upon other things for their
12 INTRODUCING ZEN
existence. It does not mean nothingness, which is why the once popular
translation ‘the Void’ is so misleading. All things, if you look at them
closely, can be further broken down, or shown to depend on other
things for their existence. Nothing, then, exists in its own right, outside
this network of interdependence. Everything is just a brief coming
together of causes and conditions, like a whirlpool, a rainbow or the
reflection of the moon as it passes over a pool of water.
So emptiness is not a nihilistic philosophy, an assertion that
nothing exists; it means that there is nothing that exists as an immu-
table essence, since everything can be broken down into other things.
Thus all things are ‘empty’ of any such essence. So when Buddhists
say ‘form is empty’, they don’t mean there are not forms; they mean
forms have no essential nature that makes them what they are.
Thus the way that we try to categorize the world is also fluid, not
based on any permanent truths. The concept of ‘long’ depends on the
concept of ‘short’, ‘bright’ depends on ‘dark’ and so on. They have no
independent reality outside our own conceptual framework. This is
taught in the Laṅkāvatāra:
Long and short, is and isn’t – from each in turn the other arises.
Because one isn’t, the other is; because one is, the other isn’t.20
Emptiness means letting go of the clinging to our conceptual

judgements about the world as if they were part of the very nature
of the world, rather than our own constructions. This is why the
Buddha often speaks of the world as being like a dream or an illusion.
Yet emptiness does not point to some deeper, hidden reality behind
the illusion. Things appear and pass away in dependence on other
things, and this is always clear if we stop and look; everything lies
open to view.
Emptiness doesn’t just apply to the things out there in the world,
but applies to ourselves as well. My thoughts, emotions and interac-
tions with the world make me what I am, but is there an ‘I’ that is
separate from these fluctuating things, an essential core that is just
me? The Buddha taught that there is not. Our strong feeling that we
do have a permanent identity, one that is whole and autonomous, is
just evidence of our strong and habitual clinging. Like everything else,
we are dependent things, dependent on external causes and condi-
tions that allow us to be. My sense of myself relies on the various
internal states that make up this bundle I call ‘me’.
Such an understanding of emptiness does not lead to a nihilistic
kind of relativism. Yes, there is no permanent, independent truth, yet
we know that we suffer, and that others do too, and that we can do
something about this. As the Buddha says in the Laṅkāvatāra, ‘samsara
is like an illusion or dream, but karma is relentless’.21 That is to say, we
still have to take responsibility for what we do. Thus the path of Zen
is practised in the light of emptiness and is deeply informed by an
understanding of emptiness, even if this is not always explicit.
Emptiness can be understood at two levels: as an intellectual
understanding of how everything is interdependent, and as a deep and
wordless dissolution of our habitual grasping at things as having a
fixed and independent reality of their own. The intellectual investiga-
tion of emptiness was played out in the Madhyamaka school in India,
and later carried through with equal rigour in Tibet. In China, though
some of the texts of the Madhyamaka scholars were translated, there
was more interest in the apparently paradoxical presentations of
emptiness found in the sutras, and the Zen tradition became the main
embodiment of this approach.
Giving without giving

How, then, does emptiness come together with compassion? If we
consider an act of generosity, it can be divided into three aspects: the
person who gives something, the person who receives it and the gift
itself. All three of these are temporary labels that only apply at the
moment of giving, each one dependent on the others. In other words,
the act itself is empty. Thus a bodhisattva should not get stuck in the
idea of him- or herself as a person who has given a gift, and the corre-
sponding idea of the other person as a recipient.
14 INTRODUCING ZEN
There is nothing essential to you that makes you the giver, nothing
essential to the thing you give that makes it a gift. This is just another
way of freezing the flow of reality, which makes it more difficult to
act with spontaneous compassion. True generosity comes from letting
go of our self-interest entirely, which also means letting go of any idea
of ourselves as being generous. In Mahayana Buddhism, generosity
is the first of the six ‘perfections’. It is perfect because it transcends
rigid ideas about the act of generosity; in fact the Sanskrit word
usually translated as ‘perfection’ (pāramitā) may be better translated
as ‘transcendence’.22
Thus in the mahayana every aspect of the path is always being
undercut with the understanding of emptiness. In the Laṅkāvatāra
sūtra the Buddha says, ‘A statement about views is about no views. A
statement about paramitas is about no paramitas. A statement about
precepts is about no precepts.’23 These ideas exist, indeed they are
crucial for teaching the Buddhist path, but they are not to be grasped
as if they were essential truths.
It is in this spirit, too, that Zen teachers have talked about killing the
Buddha. The famous saying attributed to the ninth-century teacher
Linji is, ‘If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.’ This deliberately
shocking injunction is meant to throw you into doubt. Why would I
kill the Buddha? How would I ever meet the Buddha anyway? The
saying is usually understood as a warning against clinging to a fixed
idea of what a buddha is, because this is something that is only
revealed to us through the practice of Zen.
This idea of killing the Buddha goes back to a mahayana sutra,
which makes it clear that ‘killing’ in this sense means cutting through
the idea that anything has an essential existence. Thus the Buddha
says, ‘you should kill the thoughts of a self, of a personal identity, of a
sentient being, and of a life, eliminating the thoughts even of these
names. You should kill in this way.’ Likewise, in the thirteenth century
Dogen wrote of killing the Buddha as a metaphor for destroying
clinging to self and to the idea of sitting in meditation;24 and the
modern teacher Thich Nhat Hanh writes:
This is why it is necessary to ‘kill’ our concepts so that reality can

reveal itself. To kill the Buddha is the only way to see the Buddha.
Any concept we have of the Buddha can impede us from seeing the
Buddha in person.25
Sudden and gradual

There is a popular Zen story about the eighth-century master Mazu
and his teacher, which challenges the idea that meditation leads to
enlightenment:
Mazu was sitting down, when Huairang took a tile and sat on the
rock facing him, and rubbed it. Mazu asked, ‘What are you doing?’
Huairang said, ‘I’m rubbing the tile to make a mirror.’ Mazu said,
‘How can you make a mirror by rubbing a tile?’ Huairang replied,
‘If I can’t make a mirror by rubbing a tile, how can you achieve
buddhahood by sitting in meditation?’26
Now, this story could be read as a warning against the practice of sitting
in meditation. But anyone familiar with the mahayana sutras would
recognize in it the familiar act of cutting through the conventional
understanding of a practice.27 To think of any practice as the cause of
becoming awakened is to categorize awakening according to our
conventional way of thinking, and this itself separates us from awak-
ening. Practitioners of Zen engage in meditation without thinking in
terms of meditation as the cause and awakening as the result.
In Zen, meditation is not meditation and enlightenment is not
enlightenment. This is not just a paradox: meditation is to be prac-
tised without a fixed idea of what meditation is; enlightenment is the
goal of the bodhisattva, but there is no essence or definition of enlight-
enment. Getting stuck in such ideas is a mistake. Therefore to practise
meditation with the idea that it is the cause of enlightenment is wrong,
because the Buddha is right here as the true nature of our own minds.
This does lead to a kind of contradiction that underlies Zen and other
Mahayana traditions: if enlightenment is already right here and now, why
16 INTRODUCING ZEN
meditate or do any other practice? Such questions are often answered

through images and similes: consider, for example, a poor family who
don’t realize there is a treasure chest hidden beneath their floorboards;
or someone travelling in search of a gem that is sewn inside his clothes.
That is to say, we don’t know what we have. Meditation and other prac-
tices are the means by which we weaken the hold of the habitual grasping
and distraction that hide our own nature from ourselves.
One might ask, if this is the case, what is the point of doing medita-
tion or any other practice? Why do Zen monks spend a lifetime in
monasteries? This brings us back to the difference between those
experiences that allow a glimpse of reality and the state of enlighten-
ment itself. Even if we are able to let go of our mental grasping and
emotional distraction for long enough to have an ‘enlightenment
experience’, our habitual patterns tend to reassert themselves fairly
quickly. Thus practice continues. As Zongmi wrote: ‘The sun rises all
at once, but the frost melts step by step.’28
It is not that experiences of awakening are unimportant, but they
are just that: temporary experiences. They are not the end of the path,
and the practice that may last a lifetime is the gradual dissolving of
those habitual patterns. We could say that the Zen path always exists
in this state of uncertainty, suspended between the ever-presence of
enlightened awareness and the need to gradually train so that we can
live it.29 This is expressed in a sutra quoted by Jingjue in his preface to
the Masters of the Lanka:
The path to awakening

Is impossible to map.
It is lofty but has no ‘above’;
Impossible to reach its limit.
Deep but has no ‘below’;
Impossible to measure its depth.
So large it encompasses heaven and earth,
So tiny it enters where there is no gap;
This is why we call it the path.
The spirit of Zen

If Zen can be summed up in a single phrase, it is this one: ‘A special
transmission outside the scriptures, not founded on words or letters,
pointing to one’s mind, so that we might see into our own nature and
attain Buddhahood.’ This formulation of the essence of Zen is from
the twelfth century, but it expresses the principles of the earliest Zen
texts as well.30 Awakening is found not through study or intellectual
exercises, but through directly engaging with reality itself. Moreover,
this cannot be done alone; it is achieved through ‘transmission’
between teacher and student, the teacher pointing out the truth to the
student, with or without words.
The classic story that accompanies this summary of the spirit of
Zen comes from the time of the Buddha. It is said that, in one teaching
session, when the Buddha’s disciples were assembled, the Buddha
simply held up a flower, without saying a word. Only one of the disci-
ples, Kāśyapa, grasped the significance of this act and achieved
enlightenment there and then. This first transmission, without words,
between teacher and student marks the beginning of the Zen lineage.
It would be quite wrong to take this summary of Zen, and the story
of the flower, to mean Zen practitioners have never read the Buddhist
scriptures. In fact, the teachings of Zen are steeped in the learning of
the scriptures, whether it is expressed directly (as in the Masters of the
Lanka and The Platform Sutra) or through allusion (as in later records
of dialogues between teachers and students).
So, like the act of sitting in meditation, and like the experiences of
awakening, the Buddhist scriptures are not to be thrown out entirely;
it is more that one should not become fixated on them, clinging to the
words and losing the essential meaning.31 In the Masters of the Lanka
Hongren expresses this in various ways. He says that a picture of food
does not make a meal and compares scholars to poor people who
spend all of their time counting the wealth of others.32
Alongside this rejection of learning and philosophy as ends in
themselves, there is a strong ethos in Zen of living a simple, humble
life. Perhaps the best-known expression of this is the statement
18 INTRODUCING ZEN
‘Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water; after enlighten-

ment, chop wood and carry water.’ This phrase eloquently expresses
the idea that enlightenment is to be found in ordinary activities, and
even after enlightenment, the state of awakening is not something
separate from ordinary life.
Oddly, though, this statement is not found in classical Zen litera-
ture, and appears to be quite recent. The closest one finds is this poem
by Layman Pang (740–808):
My day-to-day activities are no more

Than whatever I happen to come across.
There’s nothing to acquire, nothing to abandon,
Nothing to assert, nothing to deny.
What are marks of high rank?
Even the hills and mountains crumble to dust.
I use my mysterious spiritual powers
To carry water and haul firewood.33
Here Layman Pang elegantly demolishes any idea his students might
have about the activities of an enlightened master of meditation. Yet he
also communicates a state that is rather unusual, for he does not need
to obtain or get rid of anything, and feels no need to assert or deny
anything. Having fully taken on the impermanence of all things, he
does not hanker after recognition of any kind. In this state of peaceful
awareness, carrying water and hauling firewood might be totally ordi-
nary, yet quite different as well.
CHAPTER TWO
ZEN AND THE WEST
Is Zen Buddhism?
Alan Watts was one of the most successful exponents of Zen in the
West in the twentieth century. In the first of many books on the
subject – which also happens to be titled The Spirit of Zen – Watts
introduced a version of Zen for Westerners ‘weary of conventional
religion and philosophy’. His Zen is free from all theorization,
doctrine and formality, and what is more:
is so markedly different from any other form of Buddhism, one

might even say from any other form of religion, in that it has roused
the curiosity of many who would not ordinarily look to the ‘unprac-
tical’ East for practical wisdom.1
Watts wrote this in 1935, but the idea that Zen is not a religion, that it
is not even really Buddhism, has proved surprisingly persistent in
Western perceptions of Zen. As we have seen, Zen arose as a continu-
ation of themes from Indian Mahayana Buddhism, as expressed in the
Laṅkāvatāra and other sutras. But this is not how Watts explained the
relationship of Zen to (other forms of) Mahayana Buddhism: ‘Zen
found the followers of the Mahayana looking for truth to scriptures, to
holy men and Buddhas, believing that they would reveal it to them if
they lived the good life.’2
For Watts, if Zen is similar to anything, it is to the mystical experi-
ences expressed by some Christians, and he compares the experience of
satori to the ‘conversion experiences’ related by William James in his
19
20 INTRODUCING ZEN
Varieties of Religious Experience. In his view, Zen is beyond religion

because it is about a pure experience that is ultimately beyond all
historically specific expressions of what it is. This was an idea of its time,
popularized further by Aldous Huxley in The Perennial Philosophy,
published in 1945. According to Alan Watts, and many who followed
him, Zen offered the most direct approach to this universal experience.
This Western idea that Zen does away with all religious trappings
and goes for a direct experience of reality made it well suited to the
counter-cultural movements of the 1950s and 1960s. A new genera-
tion of Western Zen teachers emerged, who had trained in Japan with
Japanese teachers and set up Zen centres to continue the tradition
they had learned. One of these new teachers, Philip Kapleau, wrote
another very influential book, The Three Pillars of Zen. Here, we find
that the essence of Zen is the practice of zazen, sitting meditation.
Kapleau distinguishes zazen from other, inferior, Buddhist sitting
practices, which he dismissively terms ‘meditation’.3
All of this tends towards separating Zen from its home in the
Buddhist tradition, and suggesting that zazen is quite unlike, and
superior to, anything going by the name ‘meditation’. As David
McMahan writes in The Making of Buddhist Modernism:
The idea that the goal of meditation is not specifically Buddhist,

and that ‘Zen’ itself is common to all religions, has encouraged the
understanding of zazen as detachable from the complex traditions
of ritual, liturgy, priesthood, and hierarchy common in institu-
tional Zen settings. Today, while many traditional Zen monasteries
around the globe still hold to largely traditional structures of
doctrine and practice, zazen also floats freely across a number of
cultures and subcultures, particularly in the West, where grassroots
Zen groups with little or no institutional affiliation meet in homes,
colleges, and churches.4
There is still a significant trend inspired by this separation of

meditation from the context of Buddhism, or as it is sometimes put,
Zen And The West 21
separation of ‘spirituality’ from ‘religion’. For example, the neuroscien-

tist and popular writer on atheism, Sam Harris, writes in his book
Waking Up of the need to ‘pluck the diamond from the dunghill of
esoteric religion’.5 In recent years this approach has seen great success
in the spread of a secular ‘mindfulness’ meditation, deriving from
Buddhist models, but with minimal Buddhist context.6
The purification of Zen

The idea that true Zen is only about sitting meditation played an
important role in popularizing Zen in the West. But the origins of the
idea go back to Japan. In China, and until more recent centuries in
Japan, the practices of Zen monks included burning incense and
doing prostrations before images and stupas, chanting sutras and
reciting buddhas’ names, performing repentance rituals and turning
pages or spinning rotating bookshelves to generate merit. Practices
that are usually considered to belong to other Buddhist schools, such
as chanting the name of the buddha Amitabha and performing esoteric
rituals, were also practised in Zen monasteries in China and beyond.
As we will see later, the presence of this variety of practice in Zen
monasteries did not come about as a degeneration, a falling-away
from an earlier ‘pure’ Zen. Nor was it a kind of syncretism, combining
practices from different schools. In fact, this sort of variety of practice
was in Zen from as early as we can tell. The creation of a ‘pure’ Zen
came much later, and was largely a product of the revival of the
Japanese Soto and Rinzai schools in the eighteenth century, and the
modernization agenda that began in the Meiji period (1868–1912).7
In Japan during the Meiji period, Buddhism came under heavy
criticism, and there was great pressure to show its relevance to modern
scientific thinking, and to the Japanese national interest. One of the
new branches of Zen that developed out of this was called Sanbo
Kyodan. The teachers of this school minimized ritual practices,
brought zazen and koan practice to the fore, and emphasized the
importance of the kenshō ‘enlightenment’ experience. They also tried
to take Zen out of the monasteries by bringing these practices to the
22 INTRODUCING ZEN
laity. It so happened that some of the most influential Japanese Zen

masters in the Western absorption of Zen were from this school,
including Philip Kapleau’s teacher Yasutani Hakuun.8
There is an irony here – the Zen that came to the West, and was
embraced as an alternative to the Western tradition, had already been
radically reshaped by an agenda of Westernization in Japan, as Robert
Sharf has pointed out:
The irony, as we have seen above, is that the ‘Zen’ that so captured
the imagination of the West was in fact a product of the New
Buddhism of the Meiji. Moreover, those aspects of Zen most attrac-
tive to the Occident – the emphasis on spiritual experience and the
devaluation of institutional forms – were derived in large part from
Occidental sources. Like Narcissus, Western enthusiasts failed to
recognize their own reflection in the mirror being held out to them.9
In a similar way, Alan Watts and other popularizers of Zen in the

West owed a great debt to the Zen priest and scholar D.T. Suzuki
(1870–1966), who tailored his presentation of Zen to a secular, philo-
sophically minded Western readership. Half a century after his death,
Suzuki’s writings on Zen are still among the most influential books on
Zen in the English language, and his Introduction to Zen Buddhism
(with a foreword by Carl Jung) is still in print.
Zen and the art of . . .

The idea that Zen is beyond Buddhism, even beyond religion, has
gone a long way towards embedding Zen in Western popular culture.
Most often the word ‘Zen’ is used to evoke a calm, unruffled state of
mind, or a state of total absorption in an activity. It is also used to
denote a minimalist Japanese aesthetic, and in some way all of these
meanings overlap and merge into a fairly vague whole. Though it has
perhaps faded in recent years, Zen also acquired a coolness from the
sixties onwards that resulted in the word being attached to almost
anything.
Zen And The West 23
An interesting example is in the discourse of programming and

hacker culture. Here it is the total absorption aspect of Zen that seems
to appeal. A popular compendium of hacker slang, ‘The Jargon File’,
contains many examples, like hack mode, defined as ‘a Zen-like state of
total focus on The Problem that may be achieved when one is hacking
(this is why every good hacker is part mystic)’.10 We also find a number
of programming languages aligning themselves with Zen; for example,
the overarching guidelines of the Python language are called ‘The Zen
of Python’, while the Ruby language is taught through modules called
‘koans’. Exponents of the Lisp language have also invoked Zen in
explaining the usefulness of this niche language:
Lisp is worth learning for the profound enlightenment experience

you will have when you finally get it; that experience will make you
a better programmer for the rest of your days, even if you never
actually use Lisp itself a lot.11
This illustrates another feature of Zen that has entered secular

Western culture – the idea of a flash of inspiration, a state of ‘getting it’
which comes from the explanations of sudden illumination in kenshō
and satori by Zen popularizers like Alan Watts. It is perhaps this aspect
of Zen that is behind the title of Robert Pirsig’s hugely popular book
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, published in 1974. Pirsig
wrote in the author’s note to the first edition of his book that ‘it should
in no way be associated with that great body of factual information
relating to orthodox Zen Buddhist practice. It’s not very factual on
motorcycles, either.’12
Nevertheless, Pirsig took one genuine aspect of Zen, the idea of a
nonconceptual and direct apprehension of the nature of reality (in
Pirsig’s terminology, Quality), and used it in a critique of the Western
philosophical tradition. The title of the book is a play on an earlier
one, Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugene Herrigel, an account of a
Westerner’s training in archery with a Japanese teacher who applies a
form of Zen – though a highly idiosyncratic one – to his teaching.13
24 INTRODUCING ZEN
The application of Zen principles to the arts of battle is sometimes

called ‘Samurai Zen’, and is a particularly Japanese phenomenon that
developed during the Tokugawa shogunate (1603–1868). For some,
this was a troubling development that resulted in Japanese Zen
becoming separated from its moral grounding in Buddhist ethics.14 In
any case, the idea that Zen could be applied to various other disci-
plines was promoted in the West by D.T. Suzuki, who suggested that
Zen was equally applicable to other Japanese cultural practices, such
as flower arranging and the tea ceremony.
Suzuki’s lectures on Zen at Columbia University had a profound
effect on a generation of American avant-garde artists, including
John Cage and Allen Ginsberg. Later influential artists such as Bill
Viola also explicitly incorporate aspects of Zen into their work. The
cross-fertilization between Zen (or an idea of Zen) and artistic crea-
tion in the twentieth century shows us that a tradition does not have
to be fully understood and assimilated before it can have profound
effects on another culture.
Beyond this life

One major stumbling block for a secular adaptation of Zen (and other
forms of Buddhism) is the central role of karma and rebirth in
Buddhist discourse. Exponents of explicitly secular Buddhism, such
as Sam Harris and Stephen Batchelor among others, have downplayed
the importance of rebirth to Buddhism. They see the doctrines of
karma and rebirth as part of the religious accretions to the core teach-
ings of the Buddha, which ought to be discarded, or at least radically
reinterpreted.15 But karma, understood as the inevitability of cause
and effect as applied to an individual, need not be superstition; rather
it is the extension of the concept of dependent origination.16
In Buddhism, we have no essential self and are always in a process
of change. What we are now is not what we were, but there is a causal
connection, and that is the definition of karma. Furthermore, if we
are not singular and autonomous beings from birth to death, but
constantly changing, and existing through our relationships with
Zen And The West 25
other people and the world around us, then the idea of extinction at
death is far less compelling. In the Masters of the Lanka, Daoxin
teaches a meditation practice in which one mentally takes apart and
analyses the constituents of one’s own body. This leads to an under-
standing that one’s physical existence is merely a temporary assem-
blage of parts which does not hold some kind of unchanging essential
‘me’. Daoxin concludes: ‘Then you will realize that your own body, for
past immeasurable aeons, has ultimately never been born, and in the
future there is ultimately no person who dies.’
We should also consider how our secular Western emphasis on the
singularity of an individual lifetime derives from the Judaeo-Christian
concept of a single, individual soul. This concept of the nature of the
person carried on into the thinking of the European Enlightenment,
despite critiques of other aspects of religion in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries. As Mary Midgley has put it, ‘the Enlightenment
notion showed the individual as essentially an isolated will’.17 This
way of understanding people and their relationships to each other is
still prevalent. Yet it is a very specific view of humanity that we have
inherited, one that we should examine with the same scepticism that
we turn on the concept of rebirth.
The secular atomistic model of persons involves not only a funda-
mental separation between sentient beings, but also an unchanging
personal identity that begins at some point between conception and
birth and continues through to the time of death. A Buddhist would
argue that this is not merely a philosophical concept, but proof of our
deeply embedded attachment to our own sense of ourselves as
persistent through time; and it is this concept of an unchanging,
autonomous self that is the target of the concept and practice of non-
self in Buddhism.
The model of rebirth also extends our commitment to others
through time. The concept of karma is that every action determines
what we will become in future lifetimes, which vastly extends our
responsibility for those actions into distant futures. As the philoso-
pher Annette Baier has pointed out, our ethical commitments to
26 INTRODUCING ZEN
future generations are not well established in the West.18 Thus the
model of rebirth should perhaps be appreciated better for its ethical
effect; giving everyone a place in the universe from beginningless time
to the endless future. As understood in Buddhism, this vastly increases
our connections and responsibilities to all living beings; also, one
could argue, our future responsibilities to safeguard the environment.
So if we choose to discard the idea of rebirth, we should consider what
we are losing in terms of the ethical breadth of Buddhism.19
A popular Mahayana Buddhist practice involves contemplating the
infinite cycle of rebirth and considering that we have been every type
of living being; this encourages not only the kindness to animals that
Buddhism is known for, but empathy and compassion across all
perceived barriers of race, gender and social class. It is part of the prac-
tice of Buddhism to break down our identification of ourselves with
this particular life that we find ourselves in. Further to this, there
should be no attachment to what we might have been in the past, or
what we might hope to become in the future.
Embedded in this kind of practice, rebirth is not a doctrine of
comfort; it is perhaps more comforting to embrace the prevalent view
of our time that ‘you only live once’. The popularity of that phrase may
owe less to hard-headed realism than to the desire to feel free of
responsibilities, to believe that whatever we do, it won’t matter much
in the end. The teachings of the Buddha are the polar opposite of this:
in the end, all that continues beyond this life is our responsibility to
others.
Zen centres
There have of course been many Westerners who have engaged with
what it means to practise Zen Buddhism in a traditional way.
Traditional Zen practices were brought to the West by teachers
emigrating from Japan, and later Korea and Vietnam as well. An early
example is Yeita Sasaki, also known as Sokei-an (1882–1945), a
teacher in the Rinzai school who travelled from Japan to America in
1906 to establish a Zen community in San Francisco.
Zen And The West 27
After settling in New York, Sokei-an taught Zen to American

students, including Ruth Fuller Everett, whom he married shortly
before his death. Ruth Fuller Sasaki, as she was known after her
marriage, became one of the first Western teachers to be ordained as a
Zen priest and to teach the traditional forms of Zen practice. After the
death of her husband, she moved to Kyoto to continue her practice at
the Daitokuji temple.
Here Ruth Fuller Sasaki founded a sub-temple for teaching
Westerners and, at the age of seventy-five, was ordained as a priest.
Late in life, she wrote Zen Dust, the most authoritative work in English
on the koan. Perhaps more importantly, among those she taught in
Kyoto, several returned to establish centres for Zen meditation in
the West. These centres have since spread across the world,
usually growing through the efforts of Zen teachers and their local
students.20
Zen centres are places where people come together to practise Zen.
They can be anything from urban flats hosting drop-in meditation
sessions to large temple-style buildings with resident teachers and
students. Though many centres are led by ordained Zen priests, most
students are not ordained. Zen in the West is overwhelmingly a lay
movement. Yet most Zen centres are deeply informed by the monastic
heritage of Zen, in their daily schedules, prayers and study of the
literature of the tradition.
Most Zen centres are associated with a specific lineage, that is, with
a teacher whose lineage is traced back through successive past teachers;
thus the centre is also the continuation of a tradition. For example, the
San Francisco Zen Center, which was founded by the influential Soto
Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki, has the following mission statement:
The purpose of Zen Center is to express, make accessible, and

embody the wisdom and compassion of the Buddha. The ideals are
based on the example of the Buddha and guided by the teachings
and lineage of the Soto School as conveyed to us by our founder,
Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, and other Buddhist teachers. Our central
28 INTRODUCING ZEN
value is to express the non-duality of practice and awakening

through the practice of Zen and the Sixteen Bodhisattva Precepts.21
There are a great variety of Zen centres in the West, continuing

lineages not only from Japan, but also from China, Korea and Vietnam.
Nevertheless, this formulation of a vision is fairly typical of main-
stream Zen centres, situating Zen in the wider context of the Buddha’s
teachings, and emphasizing what is special about Zen (‘the non-
duality of practice and awakening’) as well as its ethical foundation in
the compassionate aspiration of a bodhisattva.22
Life in the monastery

To those who have encountered Zen in the works of popular writers
like Alan Watts, the serious and highly regulated rhythms of a Zen
centre might come as a surprise. Yet this is the way Zen has been culti-
vated and transmitted down the generations in Asia. Thus the tradi-
tional life of a Zen monk is a life governed by rules. For example, an
account of life in Tofukuji, a Rinzai Zen monastery in Kyoto, states:
Above the back entrance of the meditation hall is hung a large

tablet on which the severe rules of the monastic life are written.
They deal not only with zazen meditation but also with seemingly
trivial actions such as how to walk, how to drink tea, how to take off
sandals. The daily rules are purposefully very strict to put the
monk’s life in good order, so that his inner being may attain right
awareness. For this reason the initiate’s daily life is filled with
admonitions from the elder monks.23
The daily schedule of the monastery is signalled by the striking of a

gong or wooden sounding board. The board is first struck at dawn,
traditionally when it is first possible to see the lines on one’s own palm.
By this time, the monks will already have been awake for some time,
washing and dressing for the day. At morning services, each monk
bows down in front of images of the Buddha and the Zen patriarchs
Zen And The West 29
before sitting down and beginning a session of reciting from scripture.

After this there are further sessions of chanting; in Tofukuji, scriptures
are chanted for the bodhisattva Mañjuśrī in the meditation hall.
The dominance of chanting in Zen monasteries might come as a
surprise to those whose idea of the Zen monk is of a figure in silent
meditation, but this has always been a major part of Zen monastic
practice. As Dogen wrote in the thirteenth century:
There are a variety of occasions for reciting a sutra. For example: a

donor comes to the monastery and asks the assembly of monks to
recite a sutra regularly or on a particular occasion; the assembly
aspires to do so on their own; or the assembly recites a sutra for a
deceased monk.24
The early morning sessions are followed by breakfast, cooked and

served by the monks for the monks, and eaten in silence. After break-
fast there is a tea ceremony, and announcements of the day’s tasks
allotted to each of the monks. These include working in the monas-
tery gardens, cleaning the buildings, doing the begging round in the
town and attending the daily lecture by the monastery’s head priest.
Menial work is considered to be a part of the path, and is not optional;
the saying is, ‘A day without work is a day without food’.25
The main meal of the day, lunch, is served to all the monks, who
gather to chant scripture before receiving their portions. After lunch
there are further tasks to be done, including chopping wood for
cooking, working on the vegetable fields, and heating water for baths.
In the late afternoon, evening services, with further chanting of scrip-
ture, begin. Once these are finished, some monks attend to cleaning
the meditation hall and other monastic buildings for the evening, and
then once the evening bell is rung, gather to chant scriptures again
and retire for the night.
In a Rinzai monastery like Tofukuji, sitting meditation is mainly
practised in special training weeks called sesshin. During these weeks
monks sit together in the meditation hall, while the head monk of the
30 INTRODUCING ZEN
hall watches the meditators and occasionally taps them with an

‘encouraging stick’ (keisaku); a monk who is feeling sleepy may ask to
be struck with the stick. During this period, the monastery’s head
priest will call monks into his room individually to ask them questions
and assess their progress. The priest will also give a lecture during the
day addressed to all the monks.
The monastic routine is broken up by other regular events. In
Japan, there is the shukushin ceremony, which happens twice a month.
This is a ritual for the protection of the emperor and the state, in
which all the monks gather in the main temple hall. As described in
the account of Tofukuji temple:
People are sometimes surprised to see Zen monks engaged in such

an elaborate ceremony. The main hall is decorated in a manner
similar to that of a Catholic church, with images, candles and other
decorations. Priests of various temples wear colorful robes and
chant long scriptures. While chanting, they walk around the hall,
following the Rōshi. This provides those adherents who attend this
ceremony with a strong impression of the Zen tradition.26
The shukushin ritual has generally not been part of the export of
Japanese Zen to the West. More significantly perhaps, the role of
chanting scriptures – both sutra and dharani – that is evident in
accounts of life in Asian Zen monasteries, has been downgraded in
the West, with greater emphasis on meditation.27 The reason for the
dominance of chanting from scripture in Asian monasteries is partly
economic, since monasteries derive significant income from the spon-
sorship of chanting by lay supporters. Despite these differences, the
routines of most Zen centres in the West are influenced by the rituals,
liturgies and daily rhythms of Asian Zen monasteries.
CHAPTER THREE
THE HISTORY OF ZEN
Three stories about Zen

There are three key moments among the stories told about Zen, all of
which concern the transmission of the teachings. The first story is in
the time of Śākyamuni Buddha, set at a teaching session on Vultures’
Peak, where the Buddha was seated surrounded by his disciples. At
this particular session, instead of beginning to speak, the Buddha
simply raised a lotus flower that he was holding in his hand. Only one
person in the audience, his student Kāśyapa, understood this wordless
teaching, and smiled in recognition. Then the Buddha spoke, telling
the whole audience that he entrusted the transmission of his enlight-
ened state to Kāśyapa.
This story is a vivid embodiment of the principle that Zen
Buddhism is ultimately beyond sermons and other discursive teaching
methods. The personal relationship between teacher and student
leads towards the student’s realization of the nature of reality, and the
teacher’s recognition that the student has woken up. The story of the
flower sermon is important to the Zen tradition because it takes that
principle right back to the time of Śākyamuni himself, so that every
Zen teacher can, in theory at least, trace the transmission of their
teachings back to the Buddha.
The second key moment is the arrival of the Indian monk
Bodhidharma in China, specifically at the court of Emperor Wu of the
Liang dynasty in the sixth century. The emperor was a devout Buddhist,
who had performed the classic good works of building temples,
publishing scripture, and supporting monks and nuns. In conversation
31
32 INTRODUCING ZEN
with Bodhidharma, the emperor asked about the merit of these activi-
ties, and Bodhidharma replied, ‘None at all.’ So the emperor asked
what the true meaning of Buddhism was, and Bodhidharma replied,
‘Emptiness, nothing sacred.’ The emperor, becoming discomfited,
asked, ‘Who are you?’ Bodhidharma replied, ‘I don’t know.’
After this performance, Bodhidharma was dismissed by the
emperor and left to practise meditation on his own, until years later he
met a student who was able to grasp his teaching. This is a story about
the transmission of Zen from India to China. It tells us that the essen-
tial teaching of Mahayana Buddhism – that everything, even religious
activity, is ultimately empty – was not appreciated in China before
Bodhidharma. The story suggests that Zen did not gain the support of
the royal courts, but had to get by through the power of dedicated
practitioners alone.
The third key moment in Zen history is about a young lay practi-
tioner called Huineng, who came to study with a monk from
Bodhidharma’s lineage, Hongren, in the seventh century. Huineng
was from a humble background, couldn’t read or write, and hadn’t had
much time to study Buddhist scripture or even practise meditation.
When the time came for Hongren to appoint his successor in the Zen
lineage, he asked the monks to write verses to show their under-
standing. Only one of them, the head monk Shenxiu, wrote a verse:
The body is a bodhi tree,

The mind a mirror clear.
Strive to polish it at all times,
And don’t let dust adhere.
The next day, the young illiterate monk Huineng heard the verse read
out aloud, and thought it could be improved. He asked for another
poem to be written beside it:
Original bodhi has no tree,

The mirror has no stand.
T H E H I S T O RY O F Z E N 33
Our buddha nature is always pure,

So where could dust motes land?
Thanks to the superiority of the second verse, Huineng received the

transmission of the Zen lineage, at first in secret, and became Hongren’s
successor. Through to the present day Huineng is considered the sixth
Zen patriarch. This story communicates the same truths as the
previous two – that realization goes beyond words, and that all reli-
gious formulations are ultimately empty. It also tells us that medita-
tion itself is empty; since ‘buddha nature is always pure’ there is
nothing to be gradually cultivated through meditation.
What really happened?

These historical accounts, and many others, have been key to the way
Zen Buddhism is taught to students, and presented to outsiders as
well. The stories are evocative, pithy and offer much to contemplate.
However, over the last century or so, with a greater concern with
historical evidence, and better access to early sources, it has become
apparent that they are just stories. While the individuals in the stories
usually did exist, the tradition has developed around them for centu-
ries after their death.
The story of the Buddha holding up a flower was first written down
in the eleventh century in China. It probably does not date from much
earlier than this, and was never known in India. The eleventh century
was a time when the specific figures in the lineages of Zen transmis-
sion all the way back to Śākyamuni were being formalized. Thus the
story is enduringly popular because it is both an evocative image of a
transmission beyond words, and at the same time works as a justifica-
tion for the legitimacy of the Zen transmission.1
As for Bodhidharma, historical enquiries into this key figure of the
Zen lineage have turned up only one source from the time of
Bodhidharma himself, which doesn’t mention his meditation teach-
ings. As we will see later, a version of his basic teachings was preserved
by one of his disciples, yet the first account of that meeting with
34 INTRODUCING ZEN
Emperor Wu does not appear until some two centuries after the event
was supposed to have occurred. Earlier biographies, like the one in the
Masters of the Lanka, do not tell this story.2
The story of Huineng’s verse and his elevation to the position of
the sixth patriarch of Zen is even more troublesome. Huineng’s oppo-
nent in the story, Shenxiu, was indeed considered one of the main
successors to Hongren, but the latter had no interest in nominating a
single successor to the Zen lineage, and Shenxiu did not present
himself in this way either. Huineng was a little-known teacher until
his students compiled his oral teachings into a text called the
Platform Sutra. The text begins with this story, which purports to
prove that Huineng had been secretly appointed as the sole successor
of Hongren.
Thus the story of Huineng’s accession to the role of sixth patriarch
was almost certainly a fabrication, one that helped his successors
to claim that they were the true inheritors of Zen’s lineage.3 The
story, which is an inspiring and vivid teaching on gradual and
sudden approaches to enlightenment, was also a political device to
claim authenticity for a particular Zen tradition in eighth-century
China. This might seem shocking, and these critical approaches to
revered Zen figures have caused some strife between academics and
practitioners.
Yet for many modern Zen teachers and students, whether these
stories ‘really happened’ is of secondary interest. Their value is in the
work they do in the present moment, in the acts of teaching and
contemplation. This view is eloquently expressed by a twentieth-
century Japanese Zen teacher, Shibayama Zenkei:
Whether the story of ‘Sakyamuni Holds Up A Flower’ can be

supported by history or not is a matter of historical and biblio-
graphical interest and has nothing to do with the fact of teacher–
disciple transmission of Zen. That is to say, the fact of transmission
in Zen transcends historical concern, and in this sense the koan has
a profound Zen significance for us even today.4
Some academics also see the danger of focusing purely on a historical

critique of Zen traditional stories. John McRae writes on the tradi-
tional images of Bodhidharma:
Those images are not true, and therefore they are more important.
More precisely, those images were used by generations of Chan
practitioners and enthusiasts, and therefore they are more impor-
tant than a simplistic reconstruction of historically verifiable events
might be.5
This is not to say that historical enquiry into Zen, and indeed other
religious traditions, can be safely ignored. But a mature historical
analysis should not stop at questioning the traditional stories. As
McRae points out, the importance of the stories is itself a historical
fact, as well as their being central to the Zen traditions as they are
practised today. For modern practitioners, the challenge is to accept
this historical scrutiny, while valuing the importance of the stories to
their own practices.
Meditation and visualization

The story of Bodhidharma’s arrival in China in the sixth century
reflects a more general change in how Buddhism was being taught
there. Before this time, those who came to China from India and
Central Asia were either translators or ritual specialists, with only a
very few teachers specializing in the practice of meditation. Only in
the fifth century do the sources begin to speak of famous teachers who
were specialists in meditation living in temples that became centres of
meditation instruction.6
At this point in time, ‘meditation’ meant a variety of things,
including, as Erik Zürcher pointed out, ‘such practices as the prepara-
tory technique of counting the respirations leading to mental concen-
tration (ānāpānasmr ̣ti); the contemplation of the body as being
perishable, composed of elements, impure and full of suffering; the
visualization of internal and external images or various colours, etc.’7
36 INTRODUCING ZEN
It is important to realize that meditation was never just about

sitting concentrating on the breath. Visualization played a key role in
many of the early meditation instructions that were brought to China,
especially the imaginative deconstruction of one’s own body into its
parts. This visualization, which is meant to cut attachment to the
body, can be very detailed; in a fifth-century meditation text, the
Meditation Essentials, one begins with the toes and moves on upwards:
First, fix your thoughts on the tip of your left big toe. Carefully
contemplate one half of the toe bone and imagine a swelling.
Contemplate carefully until this is very clear. Then imagine a burst-
open swelling. When you see the half bone underneath make it
extremely white and pure, as if glowing with white light.8
Once all the rest has been peeled away the meditator’s own body is
just a skeleton, pure white and glowing. Other techniques include
visualizing that one’s body is being consumed by fire, resulting in a
realization of nonself: ‘When contemplating this fire he contemplates
that his own body is entirely without self, and seeing that there is no
self the fire spontaneously goes out.’ Images of light also play a major
role, and some of the visualizations are more positive in nature,
involving blessings from the buddhas:
He sees a real buddha appear and pour a pitcher of water into his
head, filling the inside of his body. When his body is filled, the
bones too are filled, and the water then flows out through his navel
onto the ground, while the buddha continues to pour water.
Having finished pouring water over the head the buddha disap-
pears. The water that emerges from the navel is like beryl, its color
like the glow of purple beryl. The cloud of its light fills the entire
cosmos.9
These visualization practices were often done as part of the

ceremonies of repentance (pos ̣adha) carried out twice a month in
Buddhist monasteries. At these ceremonies the monks or nuns recited

the monastic rules, admitted any breakages and performed the ritual
of repentance.10 These meditation practices were meant to purify
recent transgressions and, more importantly, those of countless
previous lives as well. The meditation texts also discuss the sponta-
neous visions that might appear, as signs of the progress of the medi-
tator. Such visions, and their use in interpreting whether repentance
rituals had been effective, were one of the main reasons for the popu-
larity of these meditation practices in China.11
Some of these visualizations, especially those involving light, are
similar to those of later Buddhist tantric practices, and are an obvious
influence on them. But what is important here is to understand that
meditation meant many things when the Zen tradition first emerged
in China, and that ‘just sitting’ is only one of them. Bodhidharma and
his successors were part of a new wave of teachers who specialized in
meditation.12 As we see in early Zen teachings such as the Masters of
the Lanka, what they offered was not just teaching techniques of medi-
tation, but a way of understanding the sometimes bewildering world
of meditation practices that were in circulation in China.
Pioneers in the art of meditation

The Tang dynasty, which ruled China and much of Central Asia from
the year 618 to 907, is generally seen as one of the high points of
Chinese culture. This is also the period of the foundational teachers
of Zen, teachers regarded by the Zen tradition as living exemplars
of enlightenment. As we have seen, little is really known about
Bodhidharma, the first of these iconic figures. He arrived in China at
a time when interest in meditation was on the rise. However, he didn’t
receive support from any emperor or local ruler, and didn’t write
down any of his teachings, which were only passed on to his students.
Just one brief treatise, The Two Entrances and Four Practices, is consid-
ered a fairly reliable record of his teachings.
It is interesting to compare Bodhidharma to his contemporary
Zhiyi, another meditation teacher of a quite different type. While
38 INTRODUCING ZEN
Bodhidharma’s The Two Entrances and Four Practices is a modest pres-

entation of some Indian Buddhist methods of contemplation, Zhiyi’s
voluminous writings represent an ambitious attempt to synthesize the
array of meditation practices that had begun to circulate in China. He
brought them together under the headings of calmness (śamatha) and
insight meditation (vipaśyanā). The former involves all sorts of prac-
tices to calm the mind, including breathing meditation; the latter
features different types of investigation into the nature of reality,
including the deconstruction of the body and contemplation on the
emptiness of all things.
Also popular in China at the time of Bodhidharma’s arrival were the
devotional practices known as Pure Land Buddhism. These practices
focused on a celestial buddha, most commonly the buddha Amitabha,
who resides in the pure land of Sukhāvatī in the west. Sutras from India,
which had been translated into Chinese, spoke of how devotion to
Amitabha could result in rebirth in his pure land. These devotional
practices and beliefs, which spread in China from the fourth century
onwards, included the meditation technique called niànfó (‘mindfulness
of the Buddha’) which involved visualizing the Buddha and reciting his
name. These practices were especially popular at the time of the early
teachers of Zen, and became part of Zen practice at an early stage.13
As we have seen, Bodhidharma himself was an obscure figure at the
time, and only seems to have taught a handful of students in China.
One of them, Huike, is traditionally regarded as his successor, though
he is equally obscure. It is not until the seventh century, and the
fifth figure in the classic line of Zen patriarchs, Hongren, that we see
the beginnings of a movement. Hongren established a temple on
Dongshan, the East Mountain, where he taught meditation to a large
group of students. His teachings later came to be known as ‘the East
Mountain tradition’. One of Hongren’s students, Shenxiu, gained the
highest level of support for the East Mountain teachings when he
gained the patronage of the empress Wu Zetian.
At that point, this Zen lineage went from obscurity to the highest
of profiles, and in the following generations came the inevitable
political struggles over who was the true inheritor of Bodhidharma’s

teaching. One of the outcomes of these struggles, as we saw earlier,
was the removal of Shenxiu from the traditional line of Zen patriarchs
and his replacement with a rival figure, Huineng. The transmission of
the Zen lineage continues from Huineng in an unbroken line; however,
as scholars have pointed out, this line is very much a retrospective
creation, a ‘string of pearls’ with only one representative for each
generation. This has a lot to do with tracing authority back through
time, and cannot be taken to reflect the complex reality of how Zen
actually spread through China and beyond.
With each generation, many teachers of meditation continued to
teach across China, and different flavours of Zen developed in different
regions. Quite how many versions of Zen were being taught is made
clear in the works of an eminent scholar of the ninth century, Guifeng
Zongmi. In a preface to a collection of Zen texts, he wrote:
Chan has various lineages that conflict with one another. In fact the
writings collected herein are like the one hundred contending
schools of China’s classical age. However, differences in the princi-
ples of their axioms involve only ten houses.14
Thus Zongmi identified ten ‘houses’ of Zen teaching as a way of

simplifying the variety that was out there. Though scholarship on Zen
often misses this point, he was not talking about ten different schools
of Zen. Rather, as Zongmi himself says, this was just a convenient way
to talk about different approaches to teaching meditation, some of
which he associated with particular teaching lineages. What Zongmi
is showing is differences in emphasis: how much should a teacher
draw on the traditional scriptures? Should the specifics of practice be
taught, or just the fact of the buddha nature being always present
within? Should the mind be restrained or given free rein when medi-
tating? And so on.
In any case, a couple of generations after the modest success of the
East Mountain meditation temple, Zen was spreading across China.
40 INTRODUCING ZEN
One of the reasons for this was the popularity of ceremonies where
the bodhisattva vow was taken by large groups of people. When these
ceremonies were led by Zen teachers, they gave sermons which, as
well as expounding on the ethical precepts of the bodhisattva, taught
that the Buddha was present in the true nature of one’s own mind, and
how to sit in meditation. Since these bodhisattva ceremonies could be
attended by both monks and laypeople, they helped to both spread
the message of Zen and secure financial support.15
Zen roots and branches

Though the most famous Zen teachers date to the Tang dynasty, it
was during the next major dynasty, the Song, that Zen became a
significant player in Chinese Buddhism. The rulers of the Song
dynasty were generous in their grants to Buddhist monasteries,
bestowed imperial favour on individual monks, and sponsored the
translation and printing of Buddhist scriptures. Zen monks became
abbots of most of the public monasteries in China.16 Great collections
of biographies and sayings of the iconic Zen teachers were published,
and these are the ones still used today. The social conventions of life
in the monastery, which continue to inform Zen monasteries across
the world today, also took shape in the Song dynasty.
As for meditation, it was in the Song that the two main styles of
Zen meditation practised today were formalized: the sitting practice
called ‘silent illumination’ (mòzhào) and the koan practice called
‘viewing the phrase’ (kànhùa). The first of these is a continuation of
older Zen practices, in which one sits in meditation without a partic-
ular technique or goal. The great exponent of silent illumination,
Hongzhi, wrote:
Completely and silently be at ease. In true thusness, separate your-

self from all causes and conditions. Brightly luminous without
defilements, you directly penetrate and are liberated. You have
from the beginning been in this place; it is not something that is
new to you today.17
This presentation of meditation was mainly taught in the Caodong

school, known as the Soto school when it was brought to Japan in the
thirteenth century. Despite the clear relationship between silent illu-
mination and earlier Zen meditation instructions, it was criticized by
contemporary exponents of the practice of ‘viewing the phrase’. Their
practice was the contemplation of key phrases drawn from the classic
stories of Zen masters. Unlike silent illumination, the teachers of this
practice did emphasize effort and meditation, as this instruction from
Dahui shows:
You must in one fell swoop break through this one thought – then
and only then will you comprehend birth and death. Then and
only then will it be called accessing awakening.18
Thus the practice of contemplating key phrases was part of a radically

sudden approach to enlightenment. Students were warned not to
understand the phrase logically, or in accordance with Buddhist
doctrine or indeed any specific method. The literature associated with
the practice is also suggestive rather than instructive, introducing and
elaborating on the key phrases with the poetic and metaphorical
language of the Chinese literati. The school which specialized in these
practices was called Linji, which became known as Rinzai when it
travelled to Japan.19
Following this peak in the Song dynasty, the fortunes of Zen ebbed
and flowed. After a long period of decline, the seventeenth century saw
a revival of the Linji lineage in China, with an emphasis on returning
to the principles and practice of the ‘golden age’ of the Zen teachers of
the Tang dynasty. This movement also had a significant impact on Zen
in Japan, Korea and Vietnam, as Chinese monks travelled to these
countries to promote the new dispensation. Zen remained an impor-
tant aspect of Chinese Buddhism through to the great cataclysm of the
Communist era, and has begun to recover in recent decades.
Zen was an organic part of Buddhist life in China, but never devel-
oped into a separate school, unlike elsewhere in Asia. Zen monks
42 INTRODUCING ZEN
lived in the same monasteries and carried out the same monastic
rituals as other monks, and, unlike in Japan and Korea, Zen in China
never became identified with one or two specific meditation prac-
tices.20 It is still common practice to describe Chinese (and some-
times Vietnamese and Korean) Zen as ‘eclectic’ or ‘syncretistic’. Yet
this is taking things backwards. It was the later Zen schools that
narrowed the range of Zen meditation practices.21
Zen in Japan
It was in the thirteenth century that Zen schools first began to
develop in Japan, though monks had been teaching and practising
Zen there for centuries. The two main schools of Japanese Zen,
Soto and Rinzai, both come from that period. The Soto school’s
founder was Dogen (1200–53), a monk who travelled to China to
discover the true teachings on Zen, which he felt were not available in
Japan. On his return to Japan he began to teach sitting meditation
(zazen). Dogen gathered a devoted group of students who built a
monastery for him, and wrote extensively on all aspects of Zen and
the Buddhist path. The book that is considered his masterwork,
Shōbōgenzō, is a collection of his sermons, written down between
1231 and his death in 1253.22
The same period saw the emergence of the Rinzai school, which
was introduced to Japan by the monk Esai (1141–1215), who specifi-
cally sought the patronage of the ruling samurai class. Esai wrote in his
book Promoting Zen for Protecting the Country that ‘rituals performed
at Zen monasteries commemorating imperial birthdays, invoking the
names of the buddhas, repaying the emperor’s kindness, and so on, are
all designed to enhance the imperial cause and the fortunes of the
Japanese state’. After Esai’s death, Rinzai teachers continued to gain
the support of the samurai class. During the Muromachi period
(1336–1573), Rinzai monasteries were favoured by the shoguns and
the court, and Zen monks worked in government roles.23
Meanwhile, the scholarly writings and strict meditation practices
expounded by Dogen and his successors remained a minority interest,
and by the seventeenth century, rigorous meditation had largely been

abandoned in Zen temples, as Griffith Foulk has shown:
The typical Zen temple thus became a place where a resident priest
or abbot and a few assistant monks performed funerals and memo-
rial services for their lay parishioners and perhaps engaged them in
other Buddhist practices as well, such as receiving the precepts or
repentances or celebrating the Buddha’s birthday or his nirvān ̣a.24
In the eighteenth century, a new wave of Chinese Zen teachers

arrived in Japan; they called themselves Obaku, and set up monas-
teries in which monks followed the monastic code (vinaya) and
engaged in regular meditation sessions. Both the Soto and Rinzai
schools had to respond to this challenge, and were subjected to
reforms. As had happened in China, these reforms were based on the
idea of returning to the principles of the ‘golden age’ of Zen, and as
well as bringing back dedicated periods of meditation, emphasized
monastic discipline and activities such as regular work in the monas-
tery gardens for monks.
At the same time, the practice of examining koans in the Rinzai
school was revitalized by Hakuin Ekaku, who emphasized the psycho-
logical aspect of grappling with a koan, which he called ‘great doubt’.
Hakuin was also the originator of what is now the most famous koan,
‘What is the sound of one hand clapping?’ In Hakuin’s autobiograph-
ical works he often wrote of his own experiences of awakening, which
were linked to breakthroughs in his contemplation of koans. He
taught widely, and to laypeople as well as monks, helping to popu-
larize the Rinzai school once again.
In the present day, Soto remains the largest Zen school in Japan,
followed by Rinzai. The school that came from China in the seven-
teenth century, Obaku, is the third largest. As we have seen, one way
that Zen in Japan differed from its Chinese ancestor was the specializa-
tion of Zen schools in specific meditation practices. Another was
the discarding of the traditional monastic code of conduct, the vinaya.
44 INTRODUCING ZEN
Instead, Zen schools used the bodhisattva precepts as the vows of

ordination.
The bodhisattva precepts emphasize self-discipline and compas-
sionate activity, but they do not include the celibacy that is at the
centre of the vinaya tradition. Instead, Zen monks are bound by the
rulebooks of their particular monastery.25 This situation did not
immediately lead to abandoning monastic celibacy, but it did open the
door to that option. Ordained monks who were married householders
became increasingly common, and in the Meiji reformations of the
late nineteenth and twentieth centuries the banning of celibacy among
all monks made this the rule. This has led to a unique situation in
Japan, put succintly by Richard Jaffe:
The departure of Japanese Buddhism from the monastic and ascetic

emphasis of most other forms of Buddhism is striking. The Japanese
Buddhist clergy are unique among Buddhist clerics in that the vast
majority are married, but they continue to undergo clerical ordina-
tion and are considered members of the sangha (sôgya) by both the
Buddhist establishment and parishioners alike.26
As Jaffe and others have discussed, it may be misleading to continue

to use the term ‘monk’ (and indeed ‘nun’) in this situation. He
suggests ‘cleric’ or ‘minister’ as alternatives, and the term ‘priest’ is
probably the most commonly used alternative, despite the Christian
connotations that it still evokes.27
Zen in Korea and Vietnam

There have been Korean practitioners of Zen since at least the eighth
century, when a popular teacher called Reverend Kim was active in
China. The Reverend Kim’s meditation teachings, which were popular
with Chinese students, included reciting the sound of a single syllable
until it died away and one rested in a state of nonthought. There is
even a place for Kim in the story of how Zen came to Tibet.28 Other
Korean teachers travelled to China as well, with some returning to
teach and establish Zen temples in Korea. But it was in the twelfth
century that a specifically Korean form of Zen developed in the writ-
ings of a teacher called Pojo Chinul (1158–1210). In his time a split
had developed between the Buddhist schools which emphasized
study of the scriptures, and the Zen schools that dismissed the scrip-
tures and stressed the inherent nature of realization.
Chinul looked to China, and in particular the work of the ninth-
century scholar Zongmi, to find an approach to Zen that could unite
the immediate realization taught by the Zen school with the central
role of the scriptures insisted on by other Buddhist teachers. Like
Zongmi, Chinul found the balance in the idea that realization is
instantaneous, but practice is gradual; as Zongmi had said, ‘the sun
rises all at once, but the frost melts step by step’.29
In Korea, as in China, Zen monks live and practise in monasteries
with monks of other lineages, and their practice is not restricted to
one specific form of meditation. Perhaps the most specifically Zen
form of meditation practised by these monks is the contemplation of
a key phrase from a koan. Unlike in Japan, where monks are expected
to work through many koans, in Korea a monk or nun is given a single
phrase and will often stay with it for the whole of his or her life. The
most common form of this practice is contemplation of the phrase,
‘what is this?’30
In Vietnam there has always been a strong influence from Chinese
Mahayana Buddhism, and it is only in the twentieth century that
Theravada gained a significant following in the country. There is a
tradition that Zen teachings were brought to Vietnam by an Indian
monk as early as the sixth century. However, Zen only achieved a level
of popularity and influence in the eleventh century; after this, several
Zen lineages were brought to Vietnam by Chinese monks.
The only Zen school established by a Vietnamese was Trúc Lâm
(‘Bamboo Grove’), which was founded by the emperor Trâ` n Nhân
Tông (1258–1308). This courtly Zen incorporated Confucian and
Daoist teachings as well. Though the school was relatively short-lived,
the idea of the fusion of religious and secular realms was a powerful
46 INTRODUCING ZEN
one, and there have been several revivals of the school up to the
modern era. The most important Zen schools in Vietnam today,
Lâm Tê´ and Nguyen-Thieu, were founded in the new dispensation of
Zen that was spread by Chinese monks in the seventeenth century.
Like the Obaku school in Japan, their monastic rituals came from the
Chinese Linji lineages, and included devotional practices for the
buddha Amitabha.31
In the modern era, Vietnamese Zen has been brought to a global
audience by the monk Thich Nhat Hanh. In his teachings and publica-
tions on Zen, Thich Nhat Hanh has emphasized Zen’s continuity with
other forms of Buddhism, and focused on the practical applications of
mindfulness and loving kindness. In one of his early publications in
English, Zen Keys, he begins by writing about a book that was given to
him when he first entered the monastic life:
There is no philosophy at all in this book. All three parts discuss

only practical problems. The first part teaches how to calm and
concentrate the mind. The second discusses the precepts and other
practices essential to monastic life. The third is a beautiful exhorta-
tion to Zen students to encourage them to remember that their
time and life are precious and should not be vainly dissipated. I was
assured that not only young novices begin with this book, but that
monks [of] even forty and fifty also followed its prescriptions.32
This illustrates the tradition of monastic Zen in Vietnam which

Thich Nhat Hanh has adapted to teach lay students in the West. Here,
realizing the nature of one’s mind is important, but so is cultivating
calmness, behaving in an ethical way and contemplating basic
Buddhist teachings such as impermanence. He goes on to say that he
initially thought that this book was just for preparation and was the
beginning of his practice of Zen, but that fifty years later he realizes
that it is the very essence of Zen Buddhism.33
CHAPTER FOUR
THE LOST TEXTS OF ZEN
A hidden cave
At the very beginning of the twentieth century, a Chinese monk
opened up a hidden cave containing a cache of ancient manuscripts.
The hidden cave was part of a spectacular complex of temples and
shrines carved into a sandstone cliff, near the town of Dunhuang, in
eastern Central Asia. In time, this treasure trove of manuscripts,
numbering in the tens of thousands, would revolutionize our under-
standing of the history of Buddhism in Asia – and Zen Buddhism in
particular.
In the decade after the hidden cave was discovered, expeditions
from Britain, France, Russia, Japan and the Chinese capital arrived
and took bundles of manuscripts back to their own museums and
libraries. The town of Dunhuang was a major trading hub, and the
manuscripts from the Dunhuang cave are written in a variety of
languages, including Chinese, Tibetan, Sanskrit and the forgotten
languages of the Silk Road.
As scholars began to work on the manuscripts, they realized that
the cave must have been sealed by the beginning of the eleventh
century, and the manuscripts sealed within it came from as far back as
the fifth century. This means that they offer a unique view into the
past of over a thousand years earlier. Most of the manuscripts from the
cave are Buddhist, and the picture they present of Buddhism is some-
times quite different from the traditional view today.
Thus in the same period that Zen was being transmitted to the
West, the roots of Zen were being questioned by scholars working on
47
48 INTRODUCING ZEN
the Dunhuang manuscripts. Two very different pictures of Zen were

emerging, as James Robson puts it:
It is now no secret that the Chan/Zen tradition was initially imag-

ined as the pinnacle of Eastern transcendental spiritualism and
marketed as an antidote to Western rationalism and materialism
by a slew of Chan/Zen apologists fired by Orientalist fantasies
and ideological agendas. Their idealized images of an iconoclastic,
anti-institutional ‘pure’ Chan/Zen Buddhism began to receive
critical scrutiny at the turn of the twentieth century with the
important discovery of thousands of documents in the Dunhuang
caves.1
Considering the importance of the Dunhuang manuscripts to

understanding the roots of Zen, it’s worth looking a little more closely
into why they were put in the cave and why it was sealed up. Perhaps
surprisingly, there is no agreement about this. Marc Aurel Stein was
the first explorer to reach the caves and gain access to the manuscripts.
In his immense reports of the expedition, Serindia, he speculates
about why the manuscripts were placed in the cave. He suggests that
they were essentially discarded books, which nobody needed any
more but which could not be destroyed because of their sacred,
Buddhist content. They were, in his influential phrase, ‘sacred waste’.2
This idea was widely accepted by Dunhuang scholars like Akira
Fujieda, and many still argue for it. In China it has a name: feiqi
shuo, the ‘waste theory’. Yet this theory doesn’t easily explain all the
nonreligious manuscripts in the cave, or the many beautiful and
complete manuscripts (and paintings too). Moreover, this apparently
pragmatic explanation doesn’t really engage with Buddhist ritual
practice.
Stein actually had a more nuanced view than this. In Serindia he
mentions that some of the bundles of manuscripts looked as if they
had been picked up and deposited in the cave as a religious (or as he
put it, ‘superstitious’) act. This touches on a truth that the description
THE LOST TEXTS OF ZEN 49
‘sacred waste’ does not – that the act of depositing manuscripts can
itself be a religious act. But what kind of religious act might lie behind
depositing manuscripts in a cave? We know that in many ancient
Buddhist cultures, scriptures and other texts were considered to be
equivalent to relics. Richard Salomon writes of the Gandhari scrolls
discovered in Afghanistan, the earliest Buddhist manuscripts:
It can be safely assumed that the manuscripts in question, regard-

less of their specific character or condition, were understood and
treated as relics. The status of their written representations of the
words of the Buddha as dharma-relics, functionally equivalent to
bodily relics of the Buddha or other Buddhist venerables, is widely
acknowledged in the Buddhist tradition. Thus, the essential moti-
vation for interring manuscripts is obvious; it was a form of relic
dedication.3
Understanding the Dunhuang cave manuscripts as relics in this way

brings us closer to the world of the Buddhist monks who lived there.
If the manuscripts were ‘functionally equivalent’ to the body of the
Buddha, every time someone deposited a manuscript in the cave it
was a ritual act, pregnant with symbolism and operating in the system
of merit creation and dedication. To understand why this particular
cave came to have this function, we need to look at who it was made
for in the first place.
The abbot’s story

In Dunhuang during the eighth and ninth centuries there was a monk
called Hongbian. He was Chinese, but he grew up at a time when
Dunhuang was ruled by the Tibetan empire. So, like everybody else in
the city, he wore Tibetan clothes, and learned to read and write the
Tibetan language. Because he was from the wealthy Wu family, he
quickly rose in the ranks, eventually becoming one of the most senior
monks in Dunhuang. This brought him into contact with orders that
came from the emperor of Tibet himself.
50 INTRODUCING ZEN
More than once, the Tibetan emperor commanded that the city of
Dunhuang should make hundreds of copies of Buddhist sutras in
Tibetan. The copying of these sutras was a massive undertaking,
almost turning the whole city into a scriptorium. Hundreds of (mostly
Chinese) scribes copied the sacred Tibetan syllables onto loose-leaf
pages and scrolls. The result was a series of monumental volumes
of the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra, and many hundreds of scrolls of
the Sutra of Aparimitāyus. Many of these mass-produced sutras
survive today because several thousand of them were placed in the
Dunhuang cave.
So Hongbian’s home was one of the major centres of copying
Buddhist scriptures for the Tibetan empire. He was still there when
the Tibetan rulers were forced out of Dunhuang in 848. A few years
later, he rose to the eminent position of head of the Buddhist sangha
in the whole of Hexi, roughly equivalent to the modern Gansu prov-
ince. Around the same time, Hongbian and his wealthy relatives paid
for the excavation of a large cave shrine in the Dunhuang cave site. It
was actually the third cave that he had commissioned, and all three
now formed three storeys of a cave temple.
This large new cave temple (now known as Cave 16) contained a
small antechamber (Cave 17). It might have been a meditation retreat,
or perhaps it was just for the storage of supplies. In any case, after
Hongbian’s death in 862, it was converted into a memorial shrine with
a statue of the revered monk in meditation, perhaps with his ashes
beneath it. An inscribed stone recording his achievements was also
placed in the cave. Over the next one hundred years, Cave 17 came to
be filled to bursting with manuscripts, and Hongbian’s statue was
taken out and put in the cave temple above.
The massive volumes of Tibetan Perfection of Wisdom sutras found
in the Dunhuang cave were of so little interest to Chinese scholars in
the twentieth century that most of them remained untouched in the
stores of the Dunhuang city museum. Yet they might be the key to
understanding the manuscript hoard. The cave also held a collection
of Tibetan letters addressed to Hongbian. Both sets of manuscripts
represent Hongbian’s official responsibilities, and they may have been

interred in the cave at the same time as the statue and stone inscrip-
tion, or some years later.
So, perhaps the first batch of manuscripts placed in the cave were
those that belonged to Hongbian himself. These could have been the
seed for future deposits of manuscripts and paintings collected by
other monks who had passed away, until the cave gradually became a
repository for manuscripts. In other words, the old abbot who built
the cave died, a statue of him was placed inside it, and then his letters
and books, and those of other people too, and then so many more
manuscripts that his statue had to be taken upstairs. Other people,
born long after the cave was first made, came and performed rituals
there, and more manuscripts were deposited, until the cave was filled
to the brim, and was closed.4
We still don’t know why the cave was sealed. Several people have
suggested that it was done to protect Buddhist manuscripts from the
threat of invasion. By the end of the tenth century, Islamic armies were
threatening the Buddhist kingdoms of the Silk Road, and the monks
of Dunhuang might have feared the destruction of their books. But
there are problems with this theory. For one, there never was an
Islamic invasion, so one wonders why the monks didn’t open up the
cave again to retrieve their manuscripts.
It is also worth noting that after the cave was sealed up, the resulting
wall was painted with a new mural of Buddhist images. Such a treat-
ment implies a considered and time-consuming process, rather than a
sudden retreat. So it is quite possible that no real or imagined invasion
was behind the sealing of the cave. A more prosaic explanation could
suffice: by the beginning of the eleventh century Hongbian’s cave
was almost completely full and had outlived all of its uses. The main
motivation for covering it and painting the wall may have been that a
patron was willing to sponsor a new set of murals.5 Sometimes
the least exciting explanation works best. In any case, the result of the
sealing of the cave, and its uncovering 900 years later, was one of
the most dramatic finds in the history of archaeology.
52 INTRODUCING ZEN
Rethinking Zen’s history

Since the manuscripts from the Dunhuang cave date from the tenth
century and earlier, they are from just before the time when Zen really
came to prominence in China. As we have seen, it was during the Song
dynasty, mainly in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, that the classic
compilations of stories of the Zen masters were published, fixing in
place the version of Zen’s history that has been passed down to the
present day. What the Dunhuang manuscripts show is that this
version did not really describe that history, but reimagined it based on
earlier texts that were later forgotten.
Of the thousands of manuscripts found in the Dunhuang cave,
some 350 are related to Zen Buddhism. These texts include collec-
tions of sayings by famous teachers, dialogues between teachers and
students, scholarly treatises, commentaries and prefaces, and historical
and biographical accounts of Zen monks. It is the last group of
texts that has been the focus of most modern scholars, who have used
these early accounts to challenge and complexify the later, traditional
histories.6
Since the middle of the twentieth century, scholars have used these
Dunhuang Zen texts to discover the works of nearly forgotten Zen
teachers, to show the flimsy ground on which claims about the most
celebrated figures are based, and to cast a sceptical eye on the political
activities of some Zen masters. One of the things that these histories
show is that the lineage of Zen was not the orderly succession of
enlightened masters that one finds in later literature. Rather, there
were struggles between factions, bitter criticism and the creative fash-
ioning of lineages by some factions to assert their authority over
others. One of the harshest critics of these early Chan texts, Alan
Cole, puts it like this:
To offer a slightly humorous analogy for the challenge that the

Dunhuang texts present, imagine that you moved to a small town
in Virginia, and once you became a regular at the corner bar, you
began hearing from the locals how the town mayor was related to
George Washington and that was why his tenure as a mayor was so
successful. That was interesting enough, but then one day when
you ventured across town to another bar, you heard that it was
actually the previous town mayor who was really Washington’s
descendant, a mayor who happened to be the bartender’s cousin.
Then, a short time later, when the campaign warmed up for the
next mayor, it was widely rumoured that the new figure contesting
the incumbent mayor was, in fact, the one really related to George
Washington. What would you do with all these stories about the
connection between leadership in the present and some distant
ancestor?7
Time and again, it seems that most of the details of the stories of
Zen masters cannot be verified the further back we go, until there is
very little left at all that is historically verifiable. This goes for
Bodhidharma, the founding figure of Zen, and for many others who
followed him. The exposure of the Zen tradition to historical analysis
has resulted in some disenchantment, yet this challenge is not really
any different from that which has been faced by any religious tradition
that has been placed under the scrutiny of historians.
And as with these other traditions, academic scholars and believers
are often pitted against each other, the former accusing the latter
of naivety, while the latter accuse the former of missing the point
entirely. As we have seen, some Zen practitioners and scholars (and
some who are both) have proposed a way of avoiding a stand-off
between those inside and those outside the tradition by suggesting
that history does matter, but that it makes little difference to the way
the stories of Zen teachers are used in actual practice.
There are also more positive aspects of the discovery of early Zen
texts, in that we now know more about how Zen came to be. The story
of how Huineng bested Shenxiu in a poetry competition has been
shown to be a fiction that helped elevate one lineage of Zen at the
expense of another. Yet we now know much more of Shenxiu’s lost
lineage of Zen, the teachers and practices of what came to be known
54 INTRODUCING ZEN
as ‘the Northern School’. Although they were forgotten, these early

Zen teachings can help us understand the roots of Zen from which the
traditions of today have grown.
One of the most important things the Masters of the Lanka and
other early Zen manuscripts show us is that teaching Zen is about how
best to approach meditation, without falling into the extremes of
clinging to one specific kind of practice or denying the value of prac-
tice entirely. This way of teaching continued through the centuries,
though it is sometimes obscured by rhetoric (never more so than in
the Western appropriation of Zen) and it can be seen as the ‘family
resemblance’ that all Zen traditions have, up to the present day.
Introducing the Masters of the Lanka

The canonical account of the lives and teachings of the main teachers
or ‘patriarchs’ of the Zen tradition is the Record of the Transmission of
the Lamp (Chuandeng lu). The image of ‘the transmission of the lamp’
is a metaphor for the passing down of the state of realization from
teacher to student through the generations. This English translation is
a little clumsy, suggesting a kind of handing over of a lantern from one
person to another. It should actually be thought of as lighting one
lamp or torch from another, so the flame continues, though there is
nothing that can be grasped in the act of transmission.
The Transmission of the Lamp is a massive work in some thirty
volumes. It coherently traces the teachers in the Zen lineage through
every generation in India and China, with a single representative for each
generation. By contrast, what we get from the Dunhuang manuscripts
are several different works presenting competing versions of the early
Zen lineage in China. The Record of the Masters and Students of the Lanka
(Lenqie shizi ji) is one of these lineage histories, dating back to the early
eighth century. Two other significant lineage texts were also discovered
among the Dunhuang cave manuscripts: one written slightly earlier, the
Record of the Transmission of the Dharma Jewel (Chuan fabao ji), and one
written several decades later, the Record of the Genealogy of the Dharma
Jewel (Lidai fabao ji).8
The Masters of the Lanka begins with a preface by a Zen monk called
Jingjue, in which he writes about how he came to Zen Buddhism, and
achieved a level of realization thanks to the Zen teacher Shenxiu. He
goes on to offer an eloquent and profound exposition of the path to
awakening. After this, the Masters of the Lanka goes back to the begin-
ning of the lineage in China. Unlike virtually all other Zen lineage
texts, in this one Bodhidharma is not considered the teacher who
brought the transmission to China. That honour goes to Gun ̣abhadra,
the Indian Buddhist scholar who travelled to China in the fifth century
and worked on the first Chinese translation of the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra.
There is no personal teacher–student connection between
Gun ̣abhadra and the next in the line, Bodhidharma; instead, the
connection is the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra itself. The Laṅkāvatāra is still held
in high regard by many Zen teachers. Some continue the tradition of
the Masters of the Lanka in considering it the most relevant sutra for
practitioners of Zen. But why this sutra in particular? The translator
Red Pine, in the introduction to his own translation of the sutra, writes:
If there ever was a sutra that presented the underlying teaching of

Zen, this is it. It is unrelenting in its insistence on the primacy of
personal realisation and is unlike any other teaching attributed to
the Buddha in this regard.9
The Laṅkāvatāra is one of hundreds of Mahayana sutras, scriptures

of the greater vehicle of Buddhism, all said to be the word of the
Buddha, though modern scholarship suggests that they were written
later, mostly from around the first century bc to the fifth century ad.
The Laṅkāvatāra is one of the most revered of the sutras, and also one
of the most complex. In it, many of the fundamental doctrines of
Mahayana thought are laid out clearly, including the division of reality
into three levels and consciousness into eight aspects.10
In the Masters of the Lanka we hear about Bodhidharma taking the
Laṅkāvatāra as the basis for his teachings, and handing it on to his
student Huike. The next chapters take one figure in each generation
56 INTRODUCING ZEN
who carries forward the lineage of the Laṅkāvatāra. After Bodhidharma

comes his student Huike, and then his student Sengcan. Apart from
their place in the Zen lineage, these two teachers are obscure, and little
is known about the content of their teachings.
In contrast, the section on the next teacher, Daoxin, is by far the
longest, as it contains his own writings on meditation practice. This is
really the centrepiece of the Masters of the Lanka. Next comes
Hongren, who founded the East Mountain teaching tradition. Out of
his many students, the Masters of the Lanka focuses on Shenxiu, who
was favoured by the Empress Wu. The final part of the text looks
briefly at some of Shenxiu’s students, taking us to the generation of
Jingjue, the author of the preface.
The Masters of the Lanka differs from all the other early Zen lineage
texts in its focus on teaching over biography. The life stories of the
teachers are relatively brief, and most of the work is given over to their
teachings. There is no single orthodox teaching, no rejection of one
way of practising over another; instead, the Masters of the Lanka
brings together several different trends that were emerging in Zen
practice at the time.11
Teachers of the Northern School

The Masters of the Lanka begins with the preface by Jingjue, and
for this reason he is usually considered the author of the text. Yet
Jingjue’s preface is not found in the Tibetan translation, which is
earlier than the surviving Chinese versions. Even if the preface was
originally part of the text, it seems to have been put together from
different sources, possibly by students of Jingjue. And much of the
rest of the Masters of the Lanka is also derived from other sources,
most of which are now lost. In the manuscripts themselves, the
Masters of the Lanka is said to have been ‘compiled’ by Jingjue, rather
than composed by him.12
Furthermore, when we work from manuscripts, we need to keep in
mind that what we have are always copies of copies of copies (and so
onwards). At each stage in copying, a scribe may have added or
omitted some parts of the text, intentionally or by mistake. In the

Buddhist context we know that monks copying sutras tried to repro-
duce the text exactly, though they were not always successful. But for
texts that were not the words of the Buddha, there was much less
scruple about adding explanatory glosses, suitable quotations from
scripture or bits of texts found in other sources.
The Masters of the Lanka looks as if it developed in just this way. The
various Chinese manuscripts and the Tibetan translation of the Masters
of the Lanka all differ from each other, and missing text at the end of
some of the chapters in the Tibetan translation suggests that copyists
added passages to the ends of chapters at different stages in the trans-
mission of the text. Thus the Masters of the Lanka is interdependent in
both senses of this Buddhist concept: it is a composite thing, based on
parts coming from different sources, and it changed over time as it was
copied again and again from one manuscript to another.13
For these reasons I will avoid referring to Jingjue as the ‘author’ of
the Masters of the Lanka. This in itself is misleading, but to take the
further step of speculating about Jingjue’s authorial practice and moti-
vations would really be to build an elaborate structure on a basis of
shifting sands. Still, even if we can’t in all honesty call Jingjue an author
as we usually understand the word, he is still a key figure in the Masters
of the Lanka, and his preface contains some of the most poetic and pithy
teachings on the path of Zen in the text. He also lived at the centre of a
turbulent and creative period in Chinese history, when the Empress Wu
brought an end (if only temporarily) to the Tang dynasty.
Jingjue was from one of China’s noble families, rivals to Empress
Wu; his sister, the princess Wei, had risen to become a threat to the
empress. When Wu took power, Jingjue’s sister was exiled, and his
brothers were killed. Later, after the death of Empress Wu in 705, her
son became emperor again, but his wife (who was Jingjue’s sister) was
the true ruler, becoming known for a time as Empress Wei. During her
reign, Jingjue returned to the capital, where he was offered a political
appointment. However, he turned this down, choosing to be ordained
as a Buddhist monk under Shenxiu instead.
58 INTRODUCING ZEN
Along with other students of Shenxiu, Jingjue came to be known as a

follower of the Northern School of Zen in China. However, this name
was not used by Jingjue or his teachers and actually originated in criti-
cisms of these teachers by a radical monk called Shenhui, who called his
own teaching lineage ‘the Southern School’.14
In his sermons and writings, Shenhui attacked the most successful
exponents of Chinese Zen: Shenxiu and his disciples. In particular,
Shenhui attacked the Northern School for its practices, which he
claimed fostered the idea that enlightenment was to be gradually culti-
vated. He claimed that his Southern School was for those who under-
stood the truth, that enlightenment is a sudden revelation. Needless to
say, this was an oversimplification. The tension between the cultiva-
tion of practice, which unfolds over time, and the experience of
enlightenment, which is timeless, is present in all Zen traditions, and
many other Buddhist traditions as well.15
In any case, it is wrong to talk about ‘schools’ of Zen in China. In
fact, it is misleading to think that there were distinct, institutionally
separate schools of Buddhism in China at all. The actual situation has
been well summarized by Morten Schlütter:
Differences between Chinese Buddhist schools did not develop

into strict sectarian divisions, and sects or denominations like those
known in later Japanese Buddhism or in Protestant Christianity
were never established. Although distinct trends within Buddhist
thought and practice did emerge in China, they were rarely under-
stood to be mutually exclusive, and many monastics studied within
several of the schools. Throughout Chinese history, anyone
becoming a monastic was ordained into the wider Buddhist order,
not into any particular school or tradition.16
The clearest distinction between different approaches to Zen in the

period is made by Zongmi in his preface to a compendium of Zen
texts in a passage I quoted earlier:
Chan has various lineages that conflict with one another. In fact the
writings collected herein are like the one hundred contending
schools of China’s classical age. However, differences in the princi-
ples of their axioms involve only ten houses.17
Here Zongmi’s ‘schools’ are clearly schools of thought rather than

religious institutions. Furthermore, Zongmi tells us that what he calls
‘ten houses’ is his own artificial construction to make sense of the vast
range of teachings and practices going by the name of Zen in his time;
these are not historical schools as we understand them. So if Zongmi
was writing about different doctrinal approaches to Zen rather than
social groups, what was the social situation?
The picture was more like this: there were social groups with a
meditation teacher at their centre. One of these teachers, Shenxiu,
achieved high visibility thanks to the patronage of the empress. The
success of Shenxiu and his students meant that other teaching lineages
had to struggle for prominence. From the eighth century onwards,
some of these groups followed Shenxiu, while others had accepted the
alternative figure of Huineng as the true successor to Bodhidharma’s
teaching. In both cases, the idea of lineage and transmission came to
be much more important than it was before.18
The more successful of these groups received some patronage and
were able to circulate texts of their teachers’ works, and increasingly
those of the lineage as well. These successful teachings tended to go
into a melting pot of Zen instruction, as the Dunhuang manuscripts
show. The manuscripts contain many collections of Zen texts, drawn
from teachers who supposedly represented different schools. This
suggests that there was little or no concern for school affiliations when
using teachings for the purpose of practice. That is, if there were
schools of Zen that adhered only to texts and practices of their own
tradition, there is no evidence of this.19
So what of the Northern School? Since there never really was a
tradition that called itself by this name, it is more like a catch-all term
for the teachings of the Masters of the Lanka and other texts associated
60 INTRODUCING ZEN
with Shenxiu’s lineage. We know about most of these texts because so

many of them survived in the cave of manuscripts in Dunhuang.
It is often said that Shenhui’s polemics spelled the end of the
Northern School of Zen, which was over by the early ninth century.
Yet there is no sign from the Dunhuang manuscripts that the works
associated with Shenxiu and his students were any less popular than
other Zen writings, even up to the end of the tenth century. In other
words, there is no reason to think that this teaching tradition died out
before the Song dynasty, when so much of earlier Zen teaching was
either forgotten or reformulated into something new. So in the Masters
of the Lanka, we see not so much the specific teachings of the
‘Northern School’ but rather a window into the teachings of Zen
before the Song dynasty. These are the roots of Zen.
Critical views of the Masters of the Lanka

Recent studies of the Masters of the Lanka and other early Zen lineage
texts have taken a highly critical view of the literature. Much academic
scholarship has argued that these texts are primarily political, that
they were written to validate the role of a particular teacher and his
lineage. In the case of the Masters of the Lanka, scholars have taken a
suspicious view of Jingjue, arguing that the text is his way of inserting
himself into Shenxiu’s East Mountain lineage.
The most extreme example of this tendency to apply the least
charitable, and most suspicious, interpretation of the text and the
motives of its author is Alan Cole’s Fathering Your Father. In this book
Cole paints Jingjue as an ‘arriviste’ who fabricated a lineage of Zen
teachers by plagiarizing previous texts. Cole even argues that Jingjue’s
teacher Xuanze never existed, but was invented by Jingjue as part of
the latter’s attempt to insert himself into the lineage.20
Though this critique might seem hard-nosed and realistic, it is actu-
ally based on a series of assumptions and speculations that render it
quite flimsy. The first is the assumption that the modern model of
publishing, where there is an author and a reading public, applies to
pre-modern China. As we have seen, even to identify Jingjue as ‘author’
in the sense that we use the word today is highly speculative and almost
certainly misleading. As for the ‘reading public’, it is not clear who this
would be in pre-modern China – the elite literati, or the more educated
Buddhist monks? The argument that Jingjue was duping innocent
readers by fabricating a Zen lineage for himself relies on the idea of an
avid but ignorant lay audience. But there is no evidence at all that such
an audience existed. As James Robson has written in a review of the
book, ‘Cole’s repeated claims about a complicit public “readership” or
“adoring audience” are merely unproven suppositions’.21
Scholars like Cole sometimes castigate pre-modern writers like
Jingjue for being poor historians, as if they were academic colleagues.
Yet the reasons for the existence of a text like the Masters of the Lanka
do not include ‘history’ as we understand the word. Even if we take
the leap and call Jingjue an author, he was certainly never a historian.
Likewise, accusations of plagiarism are commonly levelled at Jingjue
and other authors of these Chan lineage texts, but this is completely
anachronistic, as Robson points out:
Whereas the practice of building upon previous texts without attri-

bution was standard in Chinese writing, Cole presents the authors
as plagiarists and forgers. Modern conceptions of plagiarism and
standards of citation did not, however, apply to early historical
writing. As Marc Bloch noted, plagiarism ‘was at this time univer-
sally regarded as the most innocent act in the world. Annalists and
hagiographers shamelessly appropriated entire passages from the
writings of earlier authors.’22
This was true for most forms of writing in China, and indeed in other
pre-modern cultures as well. Historical texts are created as a patch-
work of what has been written before; there is no intellectual property,
and therefore no plagiarism.
Since Cole spends little time on the actual Dunhuang manuscripts –
the only surviving sources of the Masters of the Lanka – he misses some
of the more pertinent questions. Why was the text circulating in several
62 INTRODUCING ZEN
copies in Dunhuang in the ninth and tenth centuries? Who was using it?
For what purposes? One clue is in the manuscript containing the
Tibetan translation of the Masters of the Lanka. On the other side of the
manuscript there is another text, written for teachers, about how to guide
students learning and practising meditation. Could the Masters of the
Lanka have served the same pragmatic purpose, as a resource for medita-
tion teachers?
As I have mentioned, what distinguishes the Masters of the Lanka
from other early Zen lineage histories is the amount of the text that is
dedicated to what the masters of the lineage taught. Whereas other
accounts focus on life stories and miracles, the majority of the Masters
of the Lanka passes briefly over these and concentrates on teaching
and practice. Whether or not these teachings are accurate representa-
tions of what these masters actually taught, they were certainly some
of the earliest Zen teachings to be put into writing. So reading the
Masters of the Lanka in order to understand something about the prac-
tice of Zen in its formative period is not necessarily naive.
But this is not an either/or decision. The sphere of religious (or
‘spiritual’) practice cannot be separated from the sphere of social
interactions and political manoeuvring, as Wendi Adamek has written
in her study of another early Zen lineage text:
In Zen contexts, realisation of emptiness and ‘just sitting’ are char-

acterised as nondual. How pure! At the same time, inevitably,
disputes arise over how to teach people to experience nonduality.
How to express and transmit the inexpressible is a challenge in all
soteriological contexts. Paraphrasing the famous Heart Sutra phrase,
‘form is emptiness, emptiness is form,’ we could say, ‘soteriology is
politics, politics is soteriology’.23
CHAPTER FIVE
EARLY ZEN MEDITATION
Principles and practice in the Masters of the Lanka

We know surprisingly little about the actual practices taught by the
teachers of the classic period of Zen. Most early writings on Zen are
about principles rather than practice. Even Zongmi, the most percep-
tive commentator on the Zen teachings of his time, has little to
say about practice.1 This makes the Masters of the Lanka especially
important. Presenting the Zen masters mainly in terms of their teach-
ings, it contains clear and specific instructions on how to sit in medita-
tion. Each section of the Masters of the Lanka gives us a different
view of Zen, a different angle on the principles and practices that
inform Zen.
Jingjue
Much of Jingjue’s preface is concerned with explaining the concept of
emptiness. This ties in with his other known work, a commentary on
the Heart Sutra, one of the key texts of the perfection of wisdom
literature, in which emptiness plays a key role. For Jingjue, it is impor-
tant to understand that emptiness is not nothingness; rather, empti-
ness is seen in the very functioning of life. Emptiness and activity are
the same thing. In terms of practice, the inseparability of emptiness
and function means that mental stillness is not privileged over mental
activity. That is, meditation practice is not the suppression of thoughts
and emotions, but just sitting in the emptiness of thoughts and
emotions as they arise.
63
64 INTRODUCING ZEN
Gun ̣abhadra
The teachings of Gun ̣abhadra as presented in the Masters of the Lanka
almost certainly don’t originate with the translator himself. What we
have is a picture of an Indian monk arriving in China, and being
dismayed by the misrepresentations and abuses of the Buddha’s teaching
that he sees there. In this chapter, Gun ̣abhadra comes across as a fire-
and-brimstone preacher, warning his audience of dire consequences if
they continue in their misguided ways. He categorizes those who seek
peace of mind into four types: (i) ordinary people, (ii) hearers (i.e.
hinayana practitioners), (iii) bodhisattvas and (iv) those who recognize
the buddha in their own mind. Gun ̣abhadra, who apparently was also
known by the name ‘Mahayana’, also gives a teaching on the nature of
the greater vehicle, giving the six perfections in a Zen interpretation.
Bodhidharma
The Two Entrances and Four Practices is the only text attributed to
Bodhidharma that is generally accepted in modern scholarship as repre-
senting Bodhidharma’s actual teachings. It is presented in its entirety in
the Masters of the Lanka. This brief teaching brings together the sudden
and gradual approaches to enlightenment in a single system. The two
entrances are: (i) entrance by principle, which is to practise sitting medi-
tation with a firm confidence that one’s own mind is the same as the
Buddha’s, and (ii) entrance by practice, a series of four contemplations,
which act as antidotes to harmful mental states. These four are (i) when
one is suffering, contemplating that this is the result of one’s past actions,
(ii) when one is experiencing good fortune, contemplating the fact that
this too is only temporary, and cannot be relied upon, (iii) as an antidote
to attachment, contemplating that suffering is inevitable in existence and
ceasing to seek anything, and (iv) practising the dharma itself, which is
the practice of the six perfections without conceptualization.
Huike
Little is said about actual practice in the chapter on Huike. But, more
than Bodhidharma, he emphasizes the role of sitting meditation
E A R LY Z E N M E D I TAT I O N 65
above any other kind of practice. In Huike’s teaching here, sitting

meditation is a way of recognizing the buddha nature which has
always been present in oneself. The only difference between ordinary
people and buddhas is that the latter have recognized their own nature
in meditation. The other main thrust of Huike’s teachings here is a
negative one: not to get distracted by books and ideas. A picture of
food, he says, will not assuage your hunger, and always talking about
food leaves no time for eating. The main thing is to realize that the
enlightened state is already present in one’s own body and mind.
Sengcan
The teachings of Sengcan are given here in his own words, through a
commentary on a contemporary Zen master’s teachings. Though this
teaching does not deal with practice, it sets out some fundamental
principles that inform meditation practice. At the centre of this work is
the image of Indra’s net, a network of jewels, each of which contains
reflected images of every other jewel in the net. This is a metaphor for
the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, the Buddhist concept
of dependent origination. The teaching states that ‘a single atom
contains all the phenomena of the universe; a single moment contains
all the times of past, present and future’. This is why the categories that
we use to understand and interact with the world do not define the
nature of reality, as nothing can exist independently of anything else.
Daoxin
The long chapter on Daoxin reproduces a complete work called
Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts, followed by some of his teachings
intended for beginners on practising sitting meditation. The Methods
for the Bodhisattva Precepts is a record of a sermon, which according to
its title was given to groups who had gathered for the ceremony of
taking the bodhisattva vow. These ceremonies could be attended by
both monastics and laypeople, and usually involved a sermon as
well as the ritual of taking the vow. So this is an early example
of Zen sermons given in the context of the bodhisattva precepts
66 INTRODUCING ZEN
ceremony, of which the Platform Sutra is the most famous. Daoxin’s

meditation teachings are by far the most detailed in the Masters of the
Lanka, and for that reason I will discuss them separately below.
Hongren
While the chapter on Hongren is mainly concerned with his life
and his students, there is a brief passage on his meditation teachings.
These involve visualizations: first, of a single syllable as a focus for
concentration, and second, visualizing oneself sitting on top of
a mountain, and seeing the whole world around. There are some
similarities between Hongren’s instructions and the tantric medita-
tion practices that were beginning to arrive in China around the
same time.
Shenxiu
As in the chapter on Hongren, there is little direct teaching on medita-
tion attributed to Shenxiu (though there are other sources for his
teachings found among the Dunhuang manuscripts). Most of the
teaching given by Shenxiu here is in the form of questions along the
lines of, ‘When you see forms do they have form?’ He is also said to
have pointed to things like a bird flying past and asked ‘What is this?’
A similar style of questioning is attributed to Gun ̣abhadra and others
in the Masters of the Lanka, but since those passages are not found in
the Tibetan translation, they may be later additions. It is more likely
that this method of asking questions emerged around the time of
Shenxiu and his students. In any case, this method of teaching through
questions seems to be an early forerunner of the Zen koan, even if it is
not the fully formed practice of koan contemplation.
Mindfulness of the Buddha

As I mentioned earlier, the most detailed instructions in the Masters
of the Lanka on how to sit in meditation are found in Daoxin’s
chapter. This chapter includes the complete texts of Daoxin’s Dharma
Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts, which begins with a teaching
on a meditation practice called ‘single practice concentration’. This is

a form of meditation that is focused on a single buddha. Why would
that need to be emphasized? In the mahayana there are, of course,
many buddhas, and therefore many different practices focused on
those buddhas. The point of the single practice concentration is that
it is not necessary to perform the meditation practices of all buddhas
in order to attain enlightenment; this needs emphasizing in a situation
where new practices featuring different buddhas and bodhisattvas are
being translated and taught all the time.
Daoxin begins his teaching on this practice with a quote from a
sutra; this is the key passage from the sutra describing the actual
‘single practice concentration’:
Focus your mind on a single buddha and only recite his name. With
an upright posture, facing towards the place where the buddha
resides, stay constantly mindful of this single buddha. In this state
of mind, you will be able to see every buddha of the past and future
clearly manifest.
This passage gives us a clear picture of the practice that Daoxin is

teaching here. One focuses one’s mind on a buddha of choice; this
would probably involve visualization, a practice that was already well
known in China at the time. At the same time, one recites the name of
that buddha over and over again.2 One sits upright, and faces in the
direction of where that buddha resides – the pure realms of buddhas
are associated with a particular direction, the most famous being
Amitabha’s pure land in the west.
Through being constantly mindful in this way, the meditator will
be granted visions of all the buddhas – not just the one who has been
the subject of this meditation. This is possible because there is no
difference between the buddhas and the totality of the world itself
(the term is fǎjiè in Chinese, dharmadhātu in Sanskrit). So to be
mindful of one buddha is to be mindful of all buddhas, and to be
mindful of all buddhas is to be at one with the nature of reality itself.
68 INTRODUCING ZEN
To some extent, Daoxin wants to revise these meditation instruc-

tions in his own version of the single practice concentration. For one
thing, he sees no reason to face in any specific direction:
Once you know that mind, from the start, has never arisen or
ceased to be, and has always been pure, then you know that it is
identical with the pure lands of the buddhas, so there is no longer
any need to face the pure land in the west.
That is to say, if the pure land is found in your own mind, it

doesn’t matter which way you face. On the other hand, Daoxin
does not apply this to every meditator: it is only for those who have
understood the nature of mind. For those people, the key point is
that the pure land is present here and now. Daoxin goes on to say,
‘it is exactly the same as this realm but entirely free from clinging’.
So, when one’s mind is no longer grasping, one is experiencing a
pure land.
While Daoxin questions the idea that one has to face in the direc-
tion of the pure land, he does not challenge the basic practice
itself – reciting the Buddha’s name while visualizing his or her form in
one’s mind. This practice of mindfulness of the Buddha is niànfó in
Chinese (pronounced nembutsu in Japanese).3 It is a practice that is
strongly associated with the ‘pure land’ schools, and whenever it is
encountered in Zen, there is usually talk of syncretism, of Zen incor-
porating pure land practices. For example, Andy Ferguson writes: ‘By
combining Zen practice with more broadly appealing acts of religious
piety, Daoxin created a religion that took root in the broad population
of Chinese society.’4
However, and this can’t be stressed enough, we have no surviving
instructions on how to do Zen meditation practice before Daoxin. So, to
the best of our knowledge, from the very beginning of the thing that
we call Zen practice, it included visualizing and reciting the name of a
buddha. Nobody combined a pre-existing pure form of Zen with
other types of practice; Zen emerged out of these practices.
For Daoxin, the purpose of practising mindfulness of the buddha is

to get to the point where one is meditating without focusing on
anything, a state of mind called ‘mindfulness without an object’:
When you are mindful of the buddha continuously through every

state of mind, it will simply become clear and calm, and mindful-
ness will no longer be based on perceptual objects.
This state is perhaps closer to what is taught as ‘mindfulness’ nowa-

days. So it is interesting to see that seasoned meditation teachers in
the early years of Zen Buddhism did not teach mindfulness without
an object straight away. Mindfulness without an object was the culmi-
nation of the practice of mindfulness with an object – the visualized
form of a buddha and the recited sound of that buddha’s name.
The progression to mindfulness without an object is organic, for
Daoxin explains that the Buddha is no different from one’s mind.
Therefore mindfulness of the Buddha is really mindfulness of one’s
mind, which is mindfulness without an external object:
Mindfulness of the Buddha is the same state of mind as that which

we call ‘mindfulness without an object’. There is no separate mind
distinct from the Buddha, nor is there a separate buddha distinct
from the mind.
This mindfulness without an object leads to a state of mind free from

grasping and dualistic thinking. Daoxin concludes: ‘When you reach
this stage mindfulness of the Buddha fades away, as it is no longer
needed.’ So the meditation technique of visualizing a buddha and
reciting his or her name is to be practised, but it is also eventually left
behind, in the realization of nonduality.
Observing the mind

According to Daoxin’s meditation teaching in the Masters of the Lanka,
the meditator eventually reaches a point where all techniques are
70 INTRODUCING ZEN
dropped. There remains a kind of technique that is not a technique,

which he calls observing the mind (in Chinese, kànxīn). As Daoxin
makes clear, ‘observing’ here does not mean examining or analysing.
In a pithy instruction written in a four-character metre, Daoxin
explains what it means:
Don’t be mindful of the Buddha;

Don’t control the mind;
Don’t examine the mind;
Don’t speculate about the mind;
Don’t deliberate;
Don’t practise analysis;
Don’t become distracted;
Just let it be.
Obviously, most of these instructions are about what not to do. The
meditator has dropped the practice of mindfulness of the Buddha.
Having done so, that space is not to be filled with trying to control,
examine or analyse the mind. But also, one is not to wander off in
distraction. The key phrase here is ‘just let it be’; the Chinese term
(rènyùn) literally means to accept one’s fate.5 Thus this practice of
observing the mind means remaining in a state of awareness without
getting distracted, but also without attempting to control the mind.
This comes very close to how meditation is taught in Zen monasteries
and centres to this day.
Later in his sermon, Daoxin refers to a kind of meditation he calls
‘to be always aware without interruption’, which seems to be the same
thing. ‘Awareness’ here translates the Chinese character jué, which has
several different meanings in Buddhism. It can mean ‘feeling’ or ‘sensa-
tion’ (vedanā in Sanskrit), a technical term for one aspect of the mind’s
activity in samsara. Here, and in later Zen texts, it is closer to the latter,
denoting a clear and wakeful awareness that is present at all times.
Daoxin considers this practice of observing the mind to be an
advanced one, not appropriate to all students of meditation. It results
in a direct realization of the nature of mind; as Daoxin says: ‘If you can
truly observe the mind in this way, you will directly apprehend mind’s
luminosity and clarity, which is like a bright mirror.’ The crucial role
of the meditation teacher is to decide whether this kind of advanced
practice is appropriate for a particular student or not:
Thus the way students attain this realization is not always the
same, and these differences are due to the fact that currently their
inner faculties and outer conditions are not the same. A person
who wants to be a teacher must be capable of recognizing these
differences.
This eminently practical advice is crucial for understanding early

Zen teachings. All we really need to do is rest in the flow of awareness,
without analysing or controlling it, or becoming distracted. But this is
difficult, and so other methods, such as visualization and intellectual
analysis, are taught as preliminaries to help students reach the point
where they can simply be aware.
This practice continued to be transmitted by Zen teachers in the
generations after Daoxin; for example, the teacher Moheyan, who
lived in Dunhuang and was involved in the Tibetan court in the late
eighth century, wrote these instructions for meditators:
When they engage in meditation, they should view their own

mind. Since nothing exists there, they have no thoughts. If concep-
tual thoughts move, they should experience them. ‘How should we
experience them?’ Whatever thoughts arise should not be desig-
nated as moving or not moving. They should not be designated as
existing or not existing. They should not be designated as virtuous
or nonvirtuous. They should not be designated as afflicted or pure.
They should not be designated as any kind of phenomenon at
all. If the movement of mind is experienced in this way, it has
no nature.6
72 INTRODUCING ZEN
Analysis and calmness (vipaśyanā and śamatha)

In his Dharma Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts, Daoxin describes
five main types of meditation practice:
• to recognize mind’s essence;

• to recognize mind’s activity;
• to be always aware without interruption;
• to see the physical body as empty;
• to maintain oneness without wavering.
Daoxin does teach something that looks very much like the first three
types of meditation – especially ‘to be always aware’ – in the first half
of Dharma Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts. But in the second
half, he teaches a meditation method that begins with the fourth,
seeing the emptiness of the body, and continues and culminates in the
fifth, maintaining the state of oneness.
Seeing the physical body as empty has two perspectives, first from
the point of view of an ordinary being, and second from the point of
view of a buddha. So first of all the meditator performs a classic
Buddhist deconstruction of the body into its physical and mental
components. The emptiness of the body means that it has no essence,
nothing that constitutes ‘me’. When the meditator divides up the body
into all these different parts, nothing remains but the parts, and all of
these parts are impermanent.
Then the meditator looks at the body from the point of view of
enlightenment, imagining their own body as empty and clear like a
reflection, endowed with wisdom, which is also like a reflection. This
enlightened body, the body of a buddha, spontaneously responds to
the needs of beings, without being limited by space and distance.
What we perceive with our six senses (in Buddhism, these are the
five physical senses and the mind) are also like reflections in a mirror.
As Daoxin puts it: ‘Just as a mirror reflects the image of a face with the
greatest clarity, forms manifest within emptiness like reflections.’ He
wants us to imagine a mirror in which reflections appear, but where
there is no object causing the reflections; our sense of things being

‘out there’ is just an objectification of what we experience.
These images and ideas appear in the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra. For
example:
(Ch.1, IV): Our perceiving consciousness functions like a clear

mirror in which shapes and images appear.
(Ch.2, LXIV): Because the various projections of people’s minds

appear before them as objects, they become attached to the exist-
ence of their projections.
(Ch.3, LXXIV): Who doesn’t know the mind or conditions / gives

rise to projections of duality / once they know projections and the
world / projections no longer arise.
In the Laṅkāvatāra and in Daoxin’s discussion, mind is not like a

mirror in the sense that it accurately reflects reality (a concept popular in
European philosophy, discussed and criticized in Richard Rorty’s
Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature). Rather, the mirror-like mind is what
gives rise to our false assumption that what we perceive is really ‘out
there’. The enlightened mind is like a mirror too, but it does not grasp the
forms that arise within it, projecting them into the outside world as real.7
Thus, in this practice, the meditator is imagining what it is to be
a buddha, to have that mirror-like mind. When forms appear, they
do not grasp them, and so they are naturally empty. As Daoxin says,
this emptiness is not contrived; it is the natural state of things. Once
the meditator attains the state of enlightenment, all the phenomena of
the senses arise free from clinging. When Daoxin says, ‘in this sense
there is no hearing or seeing’, he is referring to frequent statements in
the sutras that buddhas do not see or hear. He is saying that this does
not mean that enlightened beings exist in a state of blankness, but
that they do not see or hear as we understand it. They see and hear
without imposing the distinction between what they are and what
is out there.
74 INTRODUCING ZEN
Once the meditator has completed this preliminary practice, they

should do the main practice, known as ‘maintaining oneness without
wavering’. Daoxin teaches this in a clear and direct passage:
Concentrate your attention on a single object without concern for

the passing of time. Continue to focus your energy without moving.
If your mind wants to wander off, quickly take it in hand and gather
it back, again and again, like using a string attached to a bird’s foot
to pull it back and catch it when it wants to fly away.
This is a classic form of the calming meditation practice known as

‘śamatha’ (in Chinese, zhı̌). Found in some form in almost all Buddhist
traditions, it is usually paired with the practice of analysis called
‘vipaśyanā’ (in Chinese, guān). Daoxin’s teaching also pairs the two, as
the analysis of the body which precedes this meditation is certainly a
form of vipaśyanā.
So what does ‘maintaining oneness’ mean? From Daoxin’s instruc-
tions, ‘oneness’ is clearly not meant to be a mystical ‘Oneness’ with
‘the One’ as is found in the Daoist tradition. Rather, oneness here is a
more prosaic single-mindedness. Indeed, in other traditions, medita-
tion is often described in terms of one-pointed concentration (e.g. in
Pali, ekaggata; in the Tibetan tradition, rtse gcig).8
While Daoxin does teach the classic pair of śamatha and vipaśyanā,
he does it in a particular way, best summed up in his own words: ‘This
is not an ordinary activity, it is the ultimate truth itself.’ That is to say,
meditation is not a practice that creates or leads to enlightenment; it
is an expression of the inherent enlightenment of our own mind.
These practices do not take the meditator anywhere else, since ‘aside
from the mind, there is no buddha’.
Questions without answers

The koan is one of the quintessential practices of modern Zen, and
definitely the practice that has least in common with other Buddhist
traditions. Almost every koan comes from a story of an encounter
between a teacher and a disciple, and most are an exchange of ques-

tions and answers. The Masters of the Lanka happens to contain the
earliest examples of this kind of teaching; these are not koans, but they
appear to be the seeds out of which the koan literature grew.9
In the Masters of the Lanka we have questions, but not answers –
we only hear about what the master asked, not any of the students’
responses. These questions appear at the end of the chapters on
Gun ̣abhadra, Bodhidharma, Hongren and Shenxiu. For several reasons,
not least that the questions are missing in the Tibetan translation, it is
doubtful that Gun ̣abhadra or Bodhidharma actually used this teaching
technique. It is more credible that it might have begun with Hongren or
Shenxiu, and it was certainly becoming more widespread in the genera-
tion of Shenxiu’s students.10
The questions in the Masters of the Lanka are like some later koans
in that they do not allow an easy answer. They are clearly meant to
throw the students off track, to challenge their conventional under-
standing of things. A teaching technique attributed in the text to
Bodhidharma illustrates how this would work:
The great teacher would point his finger at something and ask what
it really was. He would just point at a single object, and call upon
someone to stand up, and question them about that object. Then
he would ask the whole group about the object, substituting
another name for the object and asking whether it had changed.
Pointing at an object and asking the students what it ‘really is’ poses
an unanswerable question. Changing the name of the object looks like
a way of breaking down the students’ conventional understanding of
the link between signifier and signified. This technique also appears in
the chapters on Gun ̣abhadra, Hongren and Shenxiu, where the ques-
tion is always ‘What is this?’
He used to go up to objects and ask a question. For example, he

would point to a leaf on a tree and ask, ‘What is this?’
76 INTRODUCING ZEN
‘There is a little room that is completely full of excrement, earth

and hay. What is this? We sweep and clean away the excrement,
earth and hay until it is all gone and not a thing remains. What
is this?’
Also, seeing a bird fly past, he would ask, ‘What is this?’
The simple question ‘What is this?’ (in Chinese, héwù)11 is applied

to an everyday object or an image such as Hongren’s room, and in the
teaching context it is clear that the obvious answer (‘a bird’, ‘a leaf ’)
will not suffice. This brings about a situation of uncertainty or doubt,
turning the focus back to the question itself. This procedure looks very
much like an ancestor of the later koan contemplation on ‘key phrases’
(hùatóu). The most famous of these is the contemplation on the word
‘no’ (wú), as an answer to the question ‘Does a dog have the buddha
nature?’ The conventional answer should be ‘Yes’, so the ‘No’ brings
about a state of doubt and brings the focus to the nature of the answer.
In contemporary Zen, ‘What is this?’ also features as a key phrase.12 It
comes from a story about Huineng and his student Huairang. When the
latter first visited Huineng, he was asked, ‘What is this that comes?’
Having contemplated the question for years, Huairang eventually gave
his answer: ‘To explain or demonstrate anything would miss the mark.’
Thus, ‘What is this?’ is a question which points to the lack of an answer.13
Martine Batchelor describes the practice as it is taught in modern
Korean Zen:
Whether you are walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, you ask
repeatedly, What is this? What is this? You have to be careful not to
slip into intellectual inquiry, for you are not looking for an intel-
lectual answer. You are turning the light of inquiry back onto your-
self and your whole experience in this moment.
She goes on to say that her teacher, Master Kusan (1909–83), told his
students that the answer to the question was not an object, because
you could not describe it as long or short, this or that colour.14
Another kind of question challenges the students’ assumptions

about the distinction between conventional categories like inside and
outside, as in the following questions attributed to Gun ̣abhadra and
Shenxiu:
In this room there is a jar. Isn’t this jar outside the room as well?
Isn’t the water in the jar? Isn’t the jar in the water? Indeed, from the
greatest to the smallest of the various rivers and streams, aren’t each
and every one of them in this jar?
Does the sound of a bell being struck only exist inside the monas-
tery, or does the sound of the bell pervade the whole universe as
well?
Again, the fact that there is no possible answer except the most obvious
and banal (‘No, the jar is not outside the room as well’) throws the atten-
tion back on the students’ basic assumptions. A similar question, with a
striking resemblance to another famous koan, is attributed to Shenxiu:
It is taught in the Nirvana Sutra that the bodhisattva’s body has no

periphery, yet he came from the east. Since the bodhisattva’s body
has no periphery or boundary, I ask again, did he come from the
east? Why could he not come from the west, or from the south or
north? Are they not equally possible?
The famous koan that this brings to mind is the question ‘Why
did Bodhidharma come from the west?’ The question refers to
Bodhidharma’s journey from India (which was considered to lie to the
west, along the Silk Road). On the other hand, Shenxiu’s question
refers to the Buddha himself, who is said, in the Mahāparinirvān ̣a
sūtra, to have come from eastern India. Yet the Buddha, as the embod-
iment of the enlightened state, cannot be restricted to any place or
time. As we have seen in the visualization practices of Daoxin and
Hongren, the body of a buddha is limitless space.
78 INTRODUCING ZEN
Other questions in the Masters of the Lanka target basic concepts

and categories more directly (the first is attributed to Bodhidharma,
the rest to Shenxiu):
‘Does this body exist? Is this body a body?’
‘Does this mind have a mind? Is your mind really a mind?’
‘When you hear a bell being struck, does the sound exist when it is
struck? Does it exist before it is struck? Is sound really sound?’
‘When you see forms do they have form? Are forms really forms?’
In the background of these questions, there is emptiness. In Mahayana

Buddhism, all categories, including existence and nonexistence, are
empty, in that they only work in dependence on each other. This is
pointed out in a teaching attributed to Hongren:
Once he picked up two fire tongs, one long and one short, held
them up side by side and asked: ‘Which one is long? Which one is
short?’
These metal tongs are used in hearths and braziers, and in modern
Japan they are still used in tea ceremonies. They vary from 25cm to
40cm in length, so in this example Hongren might have had two tongs
of different sizes from different sets. In any case, we can imagine him
holding them up and asking his students, how are you sure that this
one is long and this one is short? Isn’t the long one only long when we
hold it up next to the short one?
Zen and the art of archery

The title of the famous Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was
inspired by the slightly less famous but still well-known book Zen in
the Art of Archery. In the latter, Eugen Herrigel described his lessons in
archery with a Japanese teacher, Awa Kenzō, as a way of attaining Zen
realization. In recent years, Japanese scholars have shown that
Herrigel’s account is a mixture of misunderstandings and wishful

thinking. His teacher, Awa Kenzō, might have had an interest in Zen,
but never taught archery as a way to attain an understanding of it.15
So it is interesting to see archery appearing in Daoxin’s Dharma
Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts:
Listeners, do your practice properly and without even a moment of

doubt! Be like a person learning to shoot an arrow. They begin with
a large target, then aim at a small target, then aim at a large circle,
then aim at a small circle, then aim at a single piece of twine, then
split the piece of twine into a hundred threads and aim at one of the
hundred threads.
This is not an instruction to practise archery, or to find the essence of

Zen contemplation in archery. Rather, archery here becomes a meta-
phor for gradual practice. Daoxin is advising his audience, composed
of people who have just received the vows of a bodhisattva, and there-
fore are just beginning in their meditation practice, to take it slowly.
As somebody learning archery begins with large targets, and gradually
moves on to smaller and smaller ones, beginners in meditation should
not try to do the most advanced practices from the start. And if hitting
a single thread seems difficult, Daoxin goes on to describe an even
more advanced stunt:
Then they shoot their arrow into the previous one so that the arrow
is fixed in the nock, preventing both arrows from falling.
The image here is of the archer hitting the previous arrow which he or
she has already shot into the centre of the target. In the West this feat
is known as a ‘robinhood’ after the fictional achievement of Robin
Hood in nineteenth-century versions of the tale, shown in the 1938
film The Adventures of Robin Hood. Apparently it is very hard to split a
wooden arrow all the way down with another arrow, but hitting the
nock of the previous arrow so that both arrows stay fixed without
80 INTRODUCING ZEN
falling to the ground is quite a common occurrence in modern

archery, as modern arrows are hollow tubes – like ancient Chinese
bamboo arrows.
What does this have to do with meditation practice? Daoxin
explains that ‘as the stream of consciousness flows through the mind,
every moment of mind is continuous, without the briefest interval’.
Thus consciousness is like a sequence of arrows stuck in the nock of
the previous arrow; there is no break. This is also true of mindfulness:
‘true mindfulness is uninterrupted – true mindfulness is always there’.
Daoxin employs other images to emphasize the need to practise
meditation constantly, rather than stopping and starting. If you want
to make a fire, you will have to keep rubbing the sticks together; if you
stop and start, the fire will not come. Or in a more uncomfortable
archery metaphor, the meditator should be like someone who has
been shot with a poison arrow – in agonizing pain, they cannot forget
the arrow even for a moment. Thus, for Daoxin, meditation practice
requires complete dedication. Yet at the same time, it is just a means
to an end:
Though the ocean of dharma may be immeasurable, it can be

crossed with a single teaching. Once you have grasped the inten-
tion, the teaching can be forgotten, for even a single teaching is of
no use any more.
Once the intention of the teachings is understood, the words

can be forgotten, for words themselves are provisional. This recalls
Ludwig Wittgenstein’s penultimate passage in the Tractatus Logico-
Philosophicus:
My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands

me finally recognizes them as senseless, when he has climbed out
through them, on them, over them. (He must so to speak throw
away the ladder, after he has climbed up on it.)16
Rather closer to home for Daoxin, and in a passage which he would

certainly have read, the Daoist classic Zhuangzi expresses a similar
sentiment:
A fish trap is there for the fish. When you have got hold of the fish,
you forget the trap. A snare is there for the rabbits. When you have
got hold of the rabbit, you forget the snare. Words are there for the
intent. When you have got hold of the intent, you forget the
words.17
This is the spirit of Zen. The methods taught by the buddhas are a
means to an end. Once awakening has happened, there is no point in
holding on to them. Thus there is no point in clinging to one partic-
ular practice, whether it is contemplating koans or just sitting, as the
‘true’ Zen practice. On the other hand, completely rejecting medita-
tion is another kind of attachment. So the Zen approach is to practise
diligently but lightly, without attachment, confident that enlighten-
ment is already here.
82
pa rt i i
THE MASTERS OF THE

LANKA
83
84
CHAPTER SIX
MANUSCRIPTS AND TRANSLATION
The Masters of the Lanka has only survived thanks to the manuscripts
preserved in the Dunhuang cave. The Chinese text is found in thir-
teen manuscripts, none of which is entirely complete, so what we have
has to be put together from different sources. These manuscripts are
from four major collections of Dunhuang scrolls: the British Library,
the Bibliothèque nationale de France, the National Library of China
and the Institute of Oriental Manuscripts in St Petersburg.1 The
popularity of the text is shown by the number of manuscript versions
and the fact that there are quite considerable differences between
them, suggesting that there were several lines of transmission of the
text, even among manuscripts found in a single location.
The most complete scrolls containing the text are:
• Pelliot chinois 3436, which contains the preface through to the

end, missing just the first part of the preface. This is rendered in
neat handwriting.
• Or.8210/S.2054, which contains the preface through to the middle
of the Daoxin chapter, with a few lines missing at the start. This is
written in neat cursive handwriting.
• Pelliot chinois 3703, which begins in the middle of the Hongren
section and continues to the end of the whole text. This is written
in a less careful cursive hand.
• Three other manuscripts seem to have been originally one single
scroll, written in a neat hand: (i) Pelliot chinois 3294, which is a
single panel with the beginning of the preface (and also Pelliot
85
86 THE MASTERS OF THE LANKA
chinois 3294 Pièce, which has part of what looks like the title);
(ii) Pelliot chinois 3537, which has the second half of the
Gun ̣abhadra chapter and the beginning of the Bodhidharma
chapter; (iii) Or.8210/S.4272, which has the end of Bodhidharma
chapter through to the beginning of the chapter on Sengcan.2
There are also smaller scroll fragments:
• Pelliot chinois 4564, also from the very beginning of the text, with
the title and four columns of text;
• Dh 1728, a small fragment from the preface, corresponding with
the beginning of the text in S.2054;
• Dh 5464 and 5466, a fragment with part of the preface, overlap-
ping with Pelliot chinois 3436 and Or.8210/S.2054;
• BD 9933 and 11884, two tiny fragments from the Bodhidharma
section;
• Dh 18947 and 8300, two tiny fragments from the Bodhidharma
section;3
• BD 9934, a tiny fragment from the Gun ̣abhadra section;
• BD 10428, a tiny fragment from the Huike section.
A version of the Masters of the Lanka appears in the Taishō Tripit ̣aka
(vol. 85, no. 2837). This version of the text is based on Or.8210/S.2054,
followed by Pelliot chinois 3436 for the latter part of the text which
does not appear in S.2054. Oddly, the earlier part of the preface which
appears in Pelliot chinois 3436 was not included in the Taishō version.
There is also one manuscript from the Dunhuang cave with a Tibetan
translation of the Masters of the Lanka: IOL Tib J 710. What is inter-
esting about this translation is that it was probably made in the latter
part of the eighth century. Since the Chinese manuscripts of the Masters
of the Lanka were written down in the tenth century, this means that the
Tibetan translation probably represents an earlier version of the text.
The Tibetan translation lacks the preface found in some of the
Chinese manuscripts, and ends abruptly in the chapter on Daoxin’s
M A N U S C R I P T S A N D T R A N S L AT I O N 87
teachings. Since the title of this Tibetan translation states that it is the
first volume, there was probably more of it in existence once, though
we don’t know where the complete translation would have ended (for
example, whether it contained the brief final chapter on Shenxiu’s
successors).4
Intriguingly, certain other parts of the text are missing from the
Tibetan translation, including the rhetorical questions that come at
the end of the chapters on Gun ̣abhadra and Bodhidharma. Scholars
have plausibly concluded that these were added in the century or
more that elapsed between the making of the Tibetan translation and
the Chinese versions from Dunhuang.5 One thing that has not been
noticed before is that the Tibetan translation contains a few passages
that are not found in any of the Chinese manuscripts. These may have
been lost in the manuscript transmission of the Chinese text.
For this English translation, I have compared all the original manu-
scripts, with reference to the edition of Yanagida Seizan (1971).
Where the text diverges so significantly between different manuscript
versions that I have had to make a choice between different translation
options, I have noted this. I have also taken account of translation
choices made in J.C. Cleary’s English translation (1986) and Bernard
Faure’s French translation (1989). Faure relied on Yanagida’s edition
of the text, while Cleary based his translation on a single modern
edition derived from a limited selection of the Chinese manuscripts:
the Jiangyuan congshu compiled by Kim Kugyŏng.6
Since this is primarily a translation of the Chinese text, I have
generally followed the Chinese manuscripts when they diverge from
the Tibetan translation, but I have noted interesting differences. In the
few cases where the Tibetan translation contains passages that seem
to have been lost in the transmission of the Chinese text, I have
included these passages in the translation, and noted that they occur
only in the Tibetan.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JINGJUE
Student of Emptiness
The preface to the Masters of the Lanka is by and about Jingjue. The
preface does not appear in the Tibetan translation (which is earlier
than the extant Chinese manuscripts of the Masters of the Lanka) and
does not mention the rest of the text. Furthermore, the Masters of the
Lanka is, like many pre-modern texts, largely put together from texts
that came before it. And, like many texts in the age of manuscripts, it
developed over time as it was copied out over and over again. Thus
Jingjue’s role with respect to the Masters of the Lanka is not entirely
clear, and it is better not to consider him its ‘author’ in the modern
sense of the word.
Still, Jingjue is very much part of the Masters of the Lanka, even
if he is not in the main lineage of teachers that the text presents
us with.1 Jingjue lived at the centre of a turbulent and creative period
in Chinese history. Born in 683, Jingjue grew up during the reign
of one of China’s greatest rulers, Wu Zetian. Wu was the power
behind the throne for much of the latter part of the seventh century,
and in the year 683 became China’s first female ruler. She declared the
beginning of a new dynasty, the Zhou, and instituted sweeping
reforms.
In military terms, Empress Wu was one of the most successful
Chinese rulers, reversing the advances of the Tibetan empire across
Central Asia, and extending her empire into the Korean peninsula. She is
famous for her support of Buddhism and Daoism over Confucianism,
which earned her the lasting resentment of Confucian historians.2
Traditional portrayals of Empress Wu as corrupt, murderous and licen-
88
JINGJUE 89
tious are largely due to this, and to the restitution of patriarchal norms
after the anomalous ascent of a woman to the highest position in the
empire.
It was also Empress Wu who brought Zen into the mainstream of
Chinese Buddhism through her patronage of Shenxiu. According to
the Record of the Transmission of the Dharma Jewel, Wu invited Shenxiu
to teach at the capital, Luoyang, received him as an honoured guest,
and ceremonially bowed down before him. It was during Shenxiu’s
time in Luoyang that Jingjue met and studied with him. Jingjue was
from one of China’s noble families; his sister, the princess Wei, had
been married to the previous emperor (Wu’s son), and had risen to
become a rival to Empress Wu. When she took power, Jingjue’s sister
was exiled, and his brothers were killed.
After the death of Empress Wu in 705, her son became emperor
again, but his wife, Jingjue’s sister, was the true ruler, becoming known
for a time as Empress Wei. During her reign, Jingjue returned to the
capital. He was offered a political appointment but turned it down.
Instead, he was ordained as a Buddhist monk under Shenxiu.
According to his preface in the Masters of the Lanka, it was in this
period that he met his main teacher, Xuanze, who had been invited to
teach at the court. And it was a good thing that Jingjue had refused a
political role, as five years later Empress Wei and her supporters fell to
another palace coup and were executed or sent into exile.
After his sister’s reign came to an end, Jingjue retreated from public
life entirely. Little is known of him after this time, except that he lived
in his monastery at Mount Taihang, teaching and writing. Two texts
that survived in the Dunhuang cave are attributed to him, the Masters
of the Lanka and a commentary on the Heart Sutra. He died sometime
in the 750s, and an account of his funeral suggests that he was held in
high regard:
From the gates of the city to the opening into the valley, banners
and platforms made an uninterrupted sequence, and his dharma
companions in their white mourning dress accompanied the
inhabitants of the capital. People beat on their chests, tore at

their hair, sprinkled themselves with water, spotted themselves
with dust.3
Yet, despite his position in one of China’s ruling families, and in the
most prominent lineage of Zen teaching at the time, Jingjue was almost
completely forgotten, and would still be, were it not for the discovery
of the Dunhuang manuscripts. This is not really surprising; the names
that are forgotten by tradition are far more numerous than those that
are preserved. In Jingjue’s case, his own involvement with Shenxiu and
what came to be known as the Northern School of Zen is probably the
main reason why his name and writings fell into obscurity.
The preface to the Masters of the Lanka is, like the whole text, a
collage of different sources: first-person and third-person accounts,
teachings and quotations from scripture. From the parts of the preface
that present Jingjue’s own teachings, he seems to have been an eloquent
and educated writer. Not quite all of the preface survives, and the
translation here is pieced together from four different manuscripts.4
After an opening prayer, Jingjue begins with an account of his
discovery of the teachings of Bodhidharma, stating that before this,
‘despite all that I had seen and read, my knowledge was like someone
peering through a tube’. He then describes how he met Shenxiu
during the reign of Empress Wu, received Shenxiu’s teachings in medi-
tation, and achieved ‘something resembling realization’.
Then Shenxiu died, leaving Jingjue bereft. The preface goes on to
describe Xuanze, whom Jingjue next took as a teacher. Abruptly, we hear
about Xuanze’s death, when five-coloured rays of light emerged from the
point between his eyes, which was taken as a sign that he had attained
enlightenment. Then we move back in time, hearing about how Jingjue
met Xuanze when the emperor summoned him to the court.
This narrative, in which Jingjue is referred to in the third person,
was probably added to Jingjue’s own, incomplete account of his
relationship with Xuanze. It ends with Xuanze giving Jingjue a
pointing-out instruction, informing him that ‘within one’s own heart
JINGJUE 91
there is all the reality one needs’. After this, the preface continues with
some teachings from the Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana and the
Laṅkāvatāra sūtra; perhaps these are meant to explain the transmis-
sion that Jingjue received, and the realization that he experienced.
The preface then returns to Jingjue’s first-person account, where he
describes what he did after receiving the pointing-out instruction
from Xuanze:
After this, I devoted myself to solitude, and cultivated my nature

deep in the mountains. In solitude, I maintained the purity of my
mind; embraced by oneness, I left the valleys behind. I will now
commit this preface to words so that others, basing themselves in
this realization may traverse the path as I have done, with the sole
aspiration of knowing their minds.
Thus Jingjue tells us that he went on a solitary meditation retreat

after receiving Xuanze’s transmission, developing and strengthening
his own realization. What follows in the rest of the preface seem to
be his own teachings. Much of Jingjue’s teaching is about the samsara
and nirvana being one and the same. The Buddhist path is not a
journey from one place (samsara) to another (nirvana). Rather, it is
the discovery of nirvana in samsara: ‘The true essence of reality is not
far away, it is here in the midst of samsara.’
To illustrate the sameness-in-difference of samsara and nirvana,
Jingjue uses the example of ice and water. They are not different, yet
they function differently – ice obstructs while water flows. All that
one needs to go from samsara to nirvana is a change in the way one’s
mind functions. Our experience is a manifestation of our mind, and at
the source of mind is a profound stillness. This stillness is always there
in all movement, for ‘where there is movement, there is always still-
ness’. It is present in all our thoughts, for ‘where there is thought, there
is always thusness’.
This might make the transformation of samsara into nirvana seem
easy and quick, but in these passages Jingjue also bemoans the low
quality of his contemporary students of Buddhism, who start out on

the path with enthusiasm, but give up when their past karma causes
difficulties to arise. He also criticizes contemporary teachers for not
understanding how emptiness goes beyond the concepts of existence
and nonexistence at the same time:
If there are people under heaven who cannot know how to practise
the path, it is because they are attached to existence and nonexistence.
The philosophy of emptiness is not just about challenging the

concept of independent existence; it also challenges the concept of
nonexistence. Jingjue writes, ‘If existence was the source of existence,
then existence would itself always be, but things only exist after arising
dependently.’ That is to say, things do exist, but only in one sense –
they exist in dependence on their conditions. Likewise, things cease
to exist when those conditions are no longer present, and there is no
metaphysical ‘nonexistence’ beyond that ordinary fact.
What Jingjue is explaining here is the view of the Madhyamaka as
set out by Nāgārjuna, Āryadeva and other Indian Buddhist scholars.
In this view, emptiness challenges the idea that any thing – whether
particular objects like pots, or universal concepts like ‘green’ – exists
independently. In the Madhyamaka view, everything, from particular
objects to our most general concepts, owes its existence to other
things. Pots owe their existence to the clay that was used to make
them, the actions of the potter and so on. Even more fundamentally,
the categories we use to establish a picture of the world are all
dependent on each other; the concept ‘long’ cannot exist without the
complementary concept ‘short’, and so on.
So, Jingjue says, emptiness is not nonexistence, and we should not
be attached to the nonexistence of things any more than to the idea of
their existence. As it says in the Heart Sutra, on which Jingjue wrote a
commentary, ‘Form is nothing other than emptiness; emptiness is
nothing other than form.’ Here, Jingjue puts that thought in slightly
different terms:
JINGJUE 93
Though empty, it is always functioning, though functioning, it is

always empty.
So emptiness is expressed in the activity of dependent arising.

Furthermore, this union of emptiness and function is not a concept
for philosophy alone, but is to be observed in one’s own mind.
Addressing his students, or readers, Jingjue says, ‘Now, go and sit in
meditation and verify them for yourself, rather than depending on
what is expounded in the three vehicles.’ Emptiness is to be fully
understood through meditation, which reveals the true nature of one’s
own mind.
Jingjue’s preface does not say much about the actual practice of
meditation, but we can see that he taught a practice of turning one’s
attention to the mind’s source:
If we look closely at samsara, we can see that it is nothing more than

repeated acts of grasping. When one contemplates the mind that
grasps, it is originally pure. In this state of stillness there is no
deluded thought. Where there is movement there is always still-
ness. Where there is stillness there is no striving.
In this meditation practice, one’s attention is turned away from the

perceptions and thoughts that usually occupy our attention to their
source, the nature of mind. This nature is a state of stillness that is
always present, even in the midst of the mind’s movements. Since this
is the very nature of mind, stillness does not need to be sought or
imposed upon movement – it is expressed through movement. This
way of teaching meditation was known as observing the mind
(kànxīn), and features prominently in the Masters of the Lanka, espe-
cially in the meditation instructions of Daoxin.5
T R A N S L AT I O N
RECORD OF THE MASTERS AND

STUDENTS OF THE LANKA
Preface
Buddha nature is emptiness without categories,
Reality is peace beyond words.
When taught through spoken words of written letters,
Both are conceptualizations of meditation.6
The pure dharma of final nirvana
Is a secret not taught to everybody:
‘Mind is always everywhere, whether still or active.’7
This is only granted in the records of those who have attained
liberation.
The followers of the two vehicles do not know it.8
Non-Buddhists have never heard of it.
Among those of lesser ability, many criticize it.
So I vow not to disseminate it.9
* **
We sentient beings spend a long time in samsara, entirely because
of the imprints of our past actions.10 Despite all that I had seen
and read, my knowledge was like someone peering through a
tube. Though I had contemplated purity and emptiness, my explana-
tions had been those of a petty man. So I made this aspirational
vow: ‘Till the end of this life I will propagate the remaining
works of Bodhidharma throughout the world’, and this is the path
I trod.
94
JINGJUE 95
I left in the first year of the Dazu era (701) for the Eastern Capital,
where I met Master Datong, whose personal name was Shenxiu.11 He
transmitted extensive teachings on meditation to me, and I achieved
something resembling realization. But even though he had shown me
the basis of my mind, he always said, ‘Exert yourself!’ When my merit
is so meagre, how could my devotion to him not be sincere? This
monk then, in accordance with the ways of the world, suddenly passed
away and I no longer had recourse for my questions and doubts.
Then another who possessed the seal of approval appeared, a great
monk of Shoushan in Anzhou whose personal name was Xuanze and
whose family name was Wang.12 He came from Qixian in Taiyuan, but
as his grandfather had the role of district prefect, he was born in the
fertile land of Yunmeng. He was one of the disciples to whom
Hongren, the great master of Dongshan in Qizhou, passed on the
flame.13 One day when this great monk was living at Shoushan, in the
head monk’s quarters, he entered the state of purity. From between his
two eyes rays of light for each of the five colours appeared as relics.14
Consequently we understood that the great teacher had already
completed the path a long time ago.
***
Emperor Zhongzong Xiaohe of the Great Tang, in the second year of
the era of Jinglong, summoned Xuanze by imperial decree to the
Western Capital (Chang’an).15 However, he already was teaching
meditation widely in the Eastern Capital (Luoyang). Jingjue publicly
avowed that he would bring him quickly back.16 He took up this busi-
ness single-mindedly, coming and going between both capitals, and
finally brought them together for an imperial audience. Jingjue
decided to commit himself to practice for the rest of his life, and soon
he had a clear vision of the way the mind’s ground manifests.17
The Patriarch Hongren, made a prediction about this great teacher:
‘There is one person from Anzhou who will be a great monk.’ And
indeed, though Xuanze did look like any ordinary monk, he was actu-
ally at the same stage of development as a buddha. He was also an
Imperial Preceptor, the jewel of the state, and lay people took refuge
with him as well. Since Jingjue possessed the conditions accumulated
over many previous lives, Xuanze personally gave him the pointing-out
instruction. Only then did Jingjue understand that within one’s own
heart there is all the reality one needs. Whatever he had not known
before, he now finally understood.18
***
Thusness is without categories,
And knowing is without knowing.19
When knowing is without knowing,
Why abandon knowing?
When categories are without categories,
Why abandon categories?
Persons and dharmas are thusness,

Speech is thusness too.
Thusness itself has no explanation;20
If explained, it is not thusness.
At the source of thusness there is no knowing,
So knowing is not thusness.
The Treatise on the Arising of Faith says:
As for the thusness of mind: in brief, it is the one nature of reality,

which encompasses all dharma teachings.21 That which we call the
nature of mind is unborn and unceasing. All of the various entities
are different merely because of the power of delusion, but if one is
free from thinking, then one no longer distinguishes the categories
of perceptual objects.
Therefore each and every entity is from the very beginning free
from the categories of spoken language, free from the categories of
written words, freed from the categories of mental cognition. They
are ultimately equal and cannot be changed into anything else, nor
JINGJUE 97
can they be destroyed. They are just this one mind, and this is why
we call it thusness.22
It also says:
Ordinary people, hearers, solitary buddhas, bodhisattvas and

buddhas all have thusness as their very essence. Nothing can be added
to it, nor taken away. There was no point in time at which it came into
being, nor will there be a point when it disappears. Always constant
and consistent, from the beginning its nature is self-sufficient and
complete, with each and every enlightened quality. Its essence is the
clear light of great wisdom.23 This is the nature of the pure mind.24
The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra says, ‘The mind manifests the objects of

perception’, and later, ‘It manifests them according to five dharmas.’25
What are these five dharmas of which it speaks? They are (i) names,
(ii) categories, (iii) delusion, (iv) perfect wisdom and (v) thusness.
The great multitude of conditioned things are nameless; it is mind
that makes names. The variety of categories have no categories; cate-
gories are made by the mind. But if you have no mind, then there can
be no names or categories, and this is what we call perfect wisdom and
thusness.26
The Sutra of Dharma Verses on Reality says:
The interweaved net of ten thousand images

Is stamped with the seal of the single dharma.27
***
After this, I devoted myself to solitude, and cultivated my nature deep
in the mountains. In solitude, I maintained the purity of my mind;
embraced by oneness, I left the valleys behind.28 I will now commit
this preface to words so that others, basing themselves in this realiza-
tion, may traverse the path as I have done, with the sole aspiration of
knowing their minds.
The true essence of reality is right here in the midst of samsara. The
noble path is subtle and profound, but it is found within this physical
body. The physical body is pure, even if it resides among the afflictions.
The true nature of samsara is found in the same place as nirvana.29
So know this: living beings and the buddha nature are at root
exactly the same. Consider water and ice – in essence, how do they
differ? Ice creates a physical obstruction, which is like the ties that
bind living beings. Water’s nature is to be all-pervasive, which is like
the complete purity of the buddha nature. There is no teaching to
acquire, no qualities to be sought. Even good things should be
discarded so that samsara remains far away.
The Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa sūtra says:
Those who want to reach the pure land,

Must purify their minds.
When they have purified their minds,
Then the buddha realm is pure.30
Though the body forms their foundation, consciousness and percep-

tion can be superficial or profound. Those with profound perception
are the ones who have purified themselves for aeons through their
practice, from the initial aspiration for enlightenment (bodhicitta) to
the final accomplishment of buddhahood, never going back. Those
with superficial consciousness are the modern students who appear
nowadays. They are happy when they first go into solitude, but then
the karma they have accumulated over lifetimes comes back to them.
Because they have commited slander and held false views they do not
have the strength to maintain genuine faith or practise the path. After
a while they give up in defeat.
If we look closely at samsara, we can see that it is nothing more than
repeated acts of grasping.31 When one contemplates the mind that
grasps, it is originally pure. In truth, mind does not exist. In this state
of stillness there is no deluded thought. Where there is movement
there is always stillness. Where there is stillness there is no striving.
JINGJUE 99
Where there is thought, there is always thusness. In thusness there

are no afflictions or attachment.32 The absence of afflictions is purity.
The absence of attachment is liberation. The afflictions are the cause
of samsara, and purity is the result of awakening. The most profound
teachings are actually empty. The end of the path is beyond language;
language is contrary to the ultimate.33
Even if one considers the source in terms of emptiness of intrinsic
nature, it is not a source that can be named. Emptiness itself is beyond
language, and the mind cannot go there. The mind of a noble one is
subtle and undefinable, having left knowledge and explanation far
behind. Full enlightenment is what is truly real, beyond language and
speech.34
The Lotus Sutra says: ‘The quality of the stillness of the various
entities cannot be described in words.’35 There are no entities that can
be spoken of, no mind that can be expressed. Intrinsic nature is empty
and idle.36 Return to the source, for the source is the path itself.
The nature of the path is empty yet boundless, liberating, vast,
clear and subtle. It brings the entire universe to stillness. It pervades
ancient and modern, yet is always pure by nature. It encompasses the
highest and the lowest, is ever-present and pure. It is the pure buddha
realm.
Know this – within a single hair there is the entire universe, and one
mote of dust contains the limitless cosmos. These statements are true!
Now, go and sit in meditation and verify them for yourself, rather than
depending on what is expounded in the three vehicles.
As the sutras say:
The path to awakening

Is impossible to map.37
It is lofty but has no ‘above’;
Impossible to reach its limit.
Deep but has no ‘below’;
Impossible to measure its depth.
So large it encompasses heaven and earth,
So tiny it enters where there is no gap;38

This is why we call it the path.
This is why the dharmakaya is pure.
It is like emptiness.
Since emptiness has no emptiness.
How could existence attain existence?
Existence does not originally exist;
It is a label attached by people themselves.
Emptiness is not originally empty;
It is a label attached by people themselves.
So abandon both existence and emptiness.
Pure liberation
Is without action, without phenomena,
Without abiding, without attachment.
In this stillness,
Not a single thing arises.39
This, then, is the path to awakening. We can be sure that the path to
nirvana is not located within existence or nonexistence, and does not
go somewhere beyond existence and nonexistence. Accordingly,
those who are now entering the path should not destroy existence or
attack nonexistence. As we live in a time when there is merely the
semblance of the dharma, these are provisional teachings.40
***
Essential emptiness is without categories.41 It cannot be made existent,
it just never stops functioning; nor can it be made nonexistent. So,
though empty, it is always functioning, though functioning, it is
always empty. Emptiness and function may be different, but there is
no mind to distinguish them. Therefore thusness is pure by nature,
ever present, never ending.42
If there are people under heaven who cannot know how to
practise the path, it is because they are attached to existence and
JINGJUE 101
nonexistence. Existence is not inherently existent, because nothing

cannot exist before its conditions have arisen.43 Nonexistence is not
inherently nonexistent, because it only happens after the conditions
have dispersed.
If existence was the source of existence, then existence would itself
always be, but things only exist after arising dependently. If nonexist-
ence was the source of nonexistence, then nonexistence itself would
always be, so why is there only nonexistence after the exhaustion of
conditions?
Dependently arisen existence is not this kind of existence; in thus-
ness there is no inherent existence. Dependently-arisen nonexistence
is not this kind of nonexistence; in the pure mind that nonexistence
does not exist. Existent and nonexistent entities are just the domain of
conceptualization. How could one complete the noble path using
these labels?
The Radiant Light Sutra says:
Is awakening attained through existence?

The Buddha answered ‘no’.
Is it attained through nonexistence?
Again he answered ‘no’.
Is it attained through both existence and nonexistence?
The Buddha answered ‘no’.
Is it obtained through detachment from existence and
nonexistence?
Again he answered ‘no’.
What does it mean to say ‘attain’?
The Buddha answered: ‘There is nothing to be attained!
Attaining without attainment
Is how awakening is attained.’44
CHAPTER EIGHT
GUN
̣ ABHADRA
Introducing the Laṅkāvatāra
The Masters of the Lanka begins the lineage of Zen with Gun ̣abhadra.
Though this was not universally accepted at the time, it is not
as odd as it might seem to us now. The Masters of the Lanka is
describing, after all, a teaching lineage based on the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra,
and it was Gun ̣abhadra who first translated this sutra into Chinese.
Gun ̣abhadra was an important translator of Buddhist texts into
Chinese, translating over fifty sutras and other texts during his time in
China.1
Gun ̣abhadra travelled from India to China by sea, arriving in the
port city of Guangzhou (also known as Canton) in the year 435. He
travelled to the city of Danyang, capital of the Liu Song empire, and at
the request of the emperor, led a translation team working on Buddhist
sutras. This is all the biographical detail about Gun ̣abhadra that the
Masters of the Lanka provides.
Other Chinese sources tell us a little more about Gun ̣abhadra.
They all agree that he was a devotee of the bodhisattva of compassion,
Avalokiteśvara. According to the Further Biographies of Eminent Monks,
Gun ̣abhadra’s ship was becalmed during his sea voyage to China.
He instructed the other passengers to visualize the buddhas of the
ten directions and recite the name of Avalokiteśvāra. Meanwhile, he
‘secretly recited the sutra of spells, earnestly offered veneration, and
performed confession’. After this, the wind began to blow, a fine rain
fell, and the ship proceeded to Guangzhou.2
This story is typical of the accounts in the biographies of eminent
monks, in which Indian masters are mainly celebrated for two
102
GUn
̣ A B H A D R A 103
things: their translation skills and their magical powers. More

specifically, it gives us a picture of a Mahayana teacher, devoted to
the bodhisattva of compassion, skilled in reciting spells (in Sanskrit,
dhāran ̣ī) and in the rituals of veneration and confession. The
picture in the Masters of the Lanka is a little different – we don’t hear
about devotion to bodhisattvas or about supernatural powers. Instead,
we have a stern figure who lectures his Chinese audience about the
inferiority of their country to India when it comes to practising the
Buddhist path.
Apparently, Gun ̣abhadra observed that many Chinese Buddhist
monks who claim to be practising meditation were actually practising
forms of spirit worship, and making money by performing divination
for their patrons. Practitioners of this kind of spirit magic may have
been Buddhist or Daoist.3 Gun ̣abhadra blames this corruption of
meditation practice on the careless transmission of meditation teach-
ings to those who are not ready for them:
In the Central Land where I am from, we have the proper teaching,

but it is kept secret instead of being carelessly transmitted. Only
those for whom the conditions are ripe and who happen to meet a
virtuous teacher on the road are accepted for this path.
Though the idea that teachings should be transmitted in secrecy is

found in most tantric Buddhist traditions, it is less familiar in the
context of Zen. Yet the reasons for doing so are the same here –
concern that the teachings will be practised without proper training,
leading to the abuse of the practice and the decline of the teachings.
So what teachings are attributed to Gun ̣abhadra here? One teaching
bears a clear connection to the Laṅkāvatāra itself, and is presented in
such a cryptic way that it might be intended to be secret:
If you do not understand this, then the sixth will possess the
seventh and eighth. If you do understand then the eighth will be
free from the sixth and seventh.
This mysterious statement refers to the eight aspects of the mind, as

detailed in the Laṅkāvatāra. This model of the mind, which has been
hugely influential in many Buddhist traditions, is as follows:
1. Sight
2. Hearing
3. Smell
4. Taste
5. Touch
6. Mind
7. Ego
8. Basis
Thus we have the five sense perceptions of sight, sound, smell, taste and
touch4, followed by the sixth, mental perception. The sixth aspect of
consciousness is what we use to distinguish and conceptualize the raw
impressions coming from the five senses. The seventh level is the egoic
aspect of consciousness: the neurotic clinging to our sense of being a
self, and the emotional afflictions that come from that clinging. At the
eighth level is the fundamental basis of consciousness. This is the basic
fact of awareness, which is the same as the buddha nature itself.
In all sentient beings, the ego grasps the basic consciousness,
mistaking it for a self, and this simple misapprehension causes all of
our suffering. Under the influence of the ego, basic consciousness
becomes conditioned by habitual clinging, and is the place where our
habital negative patterns take root. Thus the basis is neutral, being
neither essentially samsara or nirvana; when it is grasped by ego,
sentient beings experience samsara, but when freed from the ego,
sentient beings experience the state of awakening. This is called ‘the
transformation of the basis’.5
While many Buddhist texts emphasize the key role of the ego in this
process, Gun ̣abhadra’s teaching is more of a bottom-up approach. First
one frees the five senses, and then mind will cease to activate the ego,
which in turn will no longer grasp the basic consciousness. And how
GUn
̣ A B H A D R A 105
does one free the five senses? Gun ̣abhadra continues: ‘Those who
intend to become a buddha must first learn peace of mind.’ But, he goes
on to say, different practitioners understand ‘peace of mind’ in different
ways. There are four levels, based on how people approach the nature of
reality, which is referred to here as ‘the principle’ (a word closely associ-
ated with Bodhidharma’s teachings, as we will see in the next chapter):
• ordinary people, who have no interest in the principle;

• practitioners of the hinayana, who seek the principle in nirvana,
rejecting samsara and seeking tranquillity;
• practitioners of the mahayana, who clear away the things that
obscure the principle, but have not gone beyond the duality of
subject and object;
• practitioners who recognize that their own mind is the principle,
or rather, mind is the luminosity of the principle shining forth.
This is known as buddha mind.
The last and best kind of practitioner realizes that all dualities (not
just the mind and the principle) are empty, including nirvana and
samsara, good and bad, buddhas and ordinary beings. Thus true prac-
tice is free from ideas about getting better, becoming more pure, or
approaching a goal. The sun is always there, even on a cloudy day, and
reappears when the clouds drift away.6
What then of actual practice? There are few clues about how this
should be done in Gun ̣abhadra’s teaching, apart from these brief
instructions towards the end:
Chase away the things that cause conceptualization. Do not allow

contamination of consciousness. Be mindful of the Buddha with
great devotion, continuously focused in every moment of thought
without interruption.
This is a very brief description of the meditation practice of

mindfulness of the Buddha, in which one concentrates on a real or
visualized image of a buddha (which may be Śākyamuni or another

buddha such as Amitabha). Often, though it is not mentioned here,
one also recites the buddha’s name.7 The purpose of this meditative
focus is to replace the ordinary mental processes with devotion to the
Buddha. Ultimately, since the nature of the mind and the Buddha are
one and the same, the duality of myself as a meditator and the object
of my meditation disappears. This practice and its inherent non-
duality are discussed in more detail in Daoxin’s chapter later in the
Masters of the Lanka.
MASTERS AND STUDENTS OF THE

LANKA, FIRST FASCICLE
Compiled by Jingjue, a Buddhist monk of the Eastern Capital, when

he was staying at Taihang Shan.
Chapter One
The tripit ̣aka master Gun ̣abhadra of the Song Dynasty was from the
Central Land of India. Because he constantly trained in the Great
Vehicle, he was given the name Mahayana.8 During the Yuanjia period
(424–53) he travelled by ship to Guangzhou. Emperor Taizu of the
Song dynasty welcomed him to the prefecture of Danyang, where he
produced a translation of the Lankāvatāra sūtra.
Princes and dukes, monks and laypeople all requested that
Gun ̣abhadra bestow teachings on meditation, but he was uncomfort-
able about this because he was not yet able to speak Chinese prop-
erly.9 Then he dreamed that a man cut off his head with a sword and
replaced it with another one, and after that he began to bestow teach-
ings on meditation.
The tripit ̣aka master said –
This country, situated at the eastern end of the world, lacks the
teachings on cultivating the path. Because these teachings are lacking,
some fall into the teachings of the hinayana and the two vehicles.10
Some fall into one of the ninety-five non-Buddhist paths. Some fall
into the meditation practices of spirit worship – when they tell people’s
fortunes, they claim to be able to see this in the state of meditation.11
How sad! They have turned something wonderful into something
harmful and ensnared others in the same trap they themselves are
107
caught in. I feel compassion for such people – you have long had the
misfortune to fall into the path of spirit worship, and for a long time
you have just accepted samsara, never obtaining liberation.
Some other people fall into the forbidden techniques of enslaving
spirits, predicting good or bad fortunes for other people’s households,
while claiming, ‘I’m practising seated meditation and analysis.’ Ordinary
folk, blind and infatuated, who cannot see through these people, think
that they have ascended the noble path when in fact they are all sorcerers.12
They don’t realize that this spirit worship is a false demonic teaching.
In the Central Land where I am from, we have the proper teaching,
but it is kept secret instead of being carelessly transmitted. Only those
for whom the conditions are ripe and who happen to meet a virtuous
teacher on the road are accepted for this path. If they do not meet a
virtuous teacher they will not obtain the father-to-son transmission.13
The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra says, ‘The minds of the buddhas are
supreme.’14 I teach that the transmission of the dharma occurs only
when the mind has no point of arising. This dharma exceeds the limits
of the three vehicles. It goes further than the ten levels. It is the place
of the final result, buddhahood.
With a still mind, you will know it for yourself.

Without mind, your spirit will rise up.
Without thought, your body will be at peace.
Living in a solitude, you will sit in purity.
Guarding the source, you will return to the principle.
My dharma is secret and silent, and is not to be transmitted to foolish

people with superficial consciousness. It is essential that only people
of substantial merit and virtue are allowed to receive and practise this.
***
If you do not understand this, then the sixth will possess the seventh
and eighth. If you do understand then the eighth will be free from the
sixth and seventh.15 Those who intend to become a buddha must first
GUn
̣ A B H A D R A 109
learn peace of mind. When the mind is not at peace, then even good
is not good, never mind bad. When your mind has attained peace and
tranquillity there is no distinction between good and bad to be made.
As the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra says, ‘entities cannot perceive entities’.16
Since I arrived in this country I have yet to see anyone cultivating
the path, never mind anyone who has peace of mind. Occasionally, I
see someone performing religious acts, but they have not yet devoted
themselves to the path. Some want to get a name for themselves and
make a profit. They are all practising with the belief in a personal self,
and this creates an attitude of jealousy.
What is jealousy? When you see other people cultivating the path,
good at reasoning, good at practising, with many people taking refuge
and making offerings to them, then jealousy appears in your mind,
along with hatred and disgust. You rely on your own cleverness and do
not use it to overcome your self.
If you have this kind of attitude, and zealously cultivate various
practices to stop the afflictions throughout the day and night, elimi-
nating all obscurations and destroying each and every obstacle on the
path, yet you do not attain peace and tranquillity, then you can only
call this ‘cultivation’. You cannot call it peace of mind.
If you engage in the practices of the six perfections, explaining the
sutras, and progressing towards the second and third levels of medita-
tion as you zealously engage in austerities, this might be called ‘doing
good’, but it is not dharma practice.17 Only those monks who do not
irrigate the fields of karma with the water of attachment, planting the
seeds of consciousness, can be said to be engaged in dharma practice.
Now in this case, when we are speaking of ‘peace of mind’, there are
roughly four types:
• The first is the mind that turns away from the principle. This refers
to someone whose mind is that of an ordinary person.
• The second is the mind that turns towards the principle, and there-
fore rejects samsara as evil, hurrying towards tranquillity in order
to seek nirvana. This is known as having the mind of a hearer.
• The third is the mind that engages with the principle. This refers
to someone who eliminates whatever obscures the manifestation
of the principle, but has not yet done away with subject and object.
Such a person has the mind of a bodhisattva.18
• The fourth is the mind that is principle. This means there is no
principle other than the principle, and there is no mind other than
mind. The principle is just this mind. When the mind is able to
achieve equanimity, we call it the principle. When the principle’s
luminosity is allowed to shine, we call it the mind. When mind and
the principle are identical, this what we call buddha mind.19
Those who have realized the true nature

See no difference between samsara and nirvana.
The ordinary person and the noble one are no different.20
Wisdom and its object are nondual.
The principle and phenomena interpenetrate.
Ultimate and conventional truth are the same view.
Defilement and purity are oneness.
Buddhas and sentient beings
Are one and the same from the very beginning.
The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra says:
In all of this, there is no nirvana,

No buddha endowed with nirvana,
No nirvana endowed with buddhas,
Beyond awareness and the objects of awareness.
Free from all dualities,
Such as existence and nonexistence.21
The great path is everywhere from the beginning.22 It is completely

pure, and has always existed. Consider the clouds beneath the sun –
when the clouds fade away, the sunlight appears spontaneously. What
then is the use of more and more learning about philosophical view-
GUn
̣ A B H A D R A 111
points? After you have passed through written and spoken words you
will only come back to the path of samsara.23 Those who take spoken
or written transmission as equivalent to the path are filled with greed,
seeking fame and profit. They ruin themselves and others as well. It is
also like polishing a bronze mirror. Beneath the dust that rests on the
mirror’s surface, the mirror itself is always clean and luminous.
As the Sarvadharmāpravr ̣tti-nirdeśa sūtra says:
Buddhas do not become buddhas,

Nor do they save sentient beings.
It is sentient beings who impose the distinction
Between those who become buddhas,
And sentient beings who are saved.24
If you do not understand this attitude, then you cannot have concen-
tration. If you do understand it, then the resulting illumination will
bring about the beginning of great activity, all-pervading and unob-
structed.25 This is ‘the great path of cultivation’.26 Here there is no
duality between self and other, all practices are practised simultane-
ously, without before and after, and without an inbetween.27 This is
what we call the mahayana:
• When there is no attachment to inner or outer things in the state

of ultimate renunciation, this is the perfection of giving.
• When good and bad are equal so that neither can be achieved, this
is the perfection of morality.
• When there is no clash between the mind and its objects, and
animosity is extinguished for ever, this is the perfection of patience.28
• When great stillness is unmoving, yet all actions arise spontane-
ously, this is the perfection of effort.
• When one is deeply at peace through both trouble and prosperity,
this is the perfection of meditation.29
• When luminosity arises from sublime stillness, this is the perfection
of wisdom.
People like this are truly wonderful. They are all-embracing without
obstruction, carrying out enlightened activities through both trouble and
prosperity. They embody the mahayana. If those who seek the mahayana
do not first learn peace of mind, then they will certainly go astray.
The Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra says:
The Buddha’s five kinds of sight

Observe the minds of sentient beings
As well as all entities;
Ultimately they do not see.30
The Avatam
̣ saka sūtra says:
When there is no seeing, then you can see.31
The Sutra of the Questions of Viśes ̣a-cinti-brahma says:
It is not what the eye sees, nor what the ears, nose, tongue, body
and consciousness perceive. But if you are in tune with things as
they truly are, seeing and the objects of sight, through to conscious-
ness, the nature of these phenomena is just as it is. Being able to see
in this way is called true seeing.32
The Enquiry into Meditation says:
Bats and owls see nothing in the daylight, but they do see at night.
This is because of the distortions of conceptualization. Why is this
the case? Bats and owls see light where others see darkness.
Ordinary people see darkness where others see light. Both of these
are forms of conceptualization.33
Because of these distortions, because of their karmic hindrances,

people do not see phenomena truly. Thus light is not fixed as light and
darkness is not fixed as darkness. Those who understand this are free
GUn
̣ A B H A D R A 113
from distortion or confusion. They enter the state of a tathāgata, in

permanence, bliss, self and purity.34
***
The great dharma teacher said – The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra asks how we
purify our thoughts.35 Chase away the things that cause conceptualiza-
tion. Do not allow contamination of consciousness. Be mindful of the
Buddha with great devotion, continuously focused in every moment of
thought without interruption. Then you will be at peace, free from
thoughts in the realization that everything is originally empty and pure.36
He also said – Once you accept this and do not go back, you will be
in an unchanging state of peace. As the Buddha said, ‘How could this
be increased?’37
He also said – You should follow and learn from a teacher, but
realization does not come from the teacher. An ordinary person
teaching people about wisdom could never explain this.38
He used to go up to objects in order to clarify the situation; he
would point to a leaf on a tree and ask, ‘What is this?’39
He also said – You can enter the jar or the pillar.
And – You can enter the fire pit. Can’t this staff explain the dharma?40
He also said – Your body enters your mind.41
He also said – In this room there is a jar. Isn’t this jar outside the
room as well? Isn’t the water in the jar? Isn’t the jar in the water?
Indeed, from the greatest to the smallest of the various rivers and
streams, aren’t each and every one of them in this jar?
He also said – What is this water?
He also said – Things too, like the leaves on this tree, can teach the
dharma. This pillar can teach the dharma. The roof can teach the
dharma.42 Earth, water, fire and wind can all teach the dharma. Earth,
wood, tile and stone can also teach the dharma. How can this be?
CHAPTER NINE
BODHIDHARMA
Sudden and Gradual
Bodhidharma is the Zen tradition personified. But like many founders

of great movements, Bodhidharma was not well known in his own
lifetime. His fame comes from those of later generations who traced
their own traditions back to him. We do have one account of
Bodhidharma by a contemporary, and while it only mentions him in
passing, it is quite revealing. The author of these remarks was a monk
called Yang Xuanze, who wrote a substantial book on the Buddhist
monasteries of Luoyang. At the Yongning monastery he remembered
meeting a foreign monk who praised the beauty of the building:
At that time there was the monk called Bodhidharma from the
western regions, a foreigner from Persia. When he came from that
far country and was staying in China, he saw how the golden tiles
sparkled in the sun, their light reflected in the clouds, and the
precious bells rung by the wind whose voice rang beyond the
heavens, he sang in praise: ‘Truly how wonderful it all is!’ He said
that he was 150 years old and had travelled all countries in the
world without exception, but that nothing in Jambudvīpa was
comparable with the beauty of this monastery. ‘I have gone to the
edges of the world, but I have never seen anything like this!’ With
hands clasped, he chanted the name of the Buddha for several
days.1
Clearly, for the author of this passage, the most interesting thing
about Bodhidharma was that he was a well-travelled foreign monk
114
BODHIDHARMA 115
who was deeply impressed by the monastery’s architecture. But there

are some other interesting features to the passage – for one,
Bodhidharma is said to come from Persia, rather than India – though
it is not clear what ‘Persia’ (Chinese bosi) referred to at this time; it
may have been a general term for western Central Asia. The last line
of the passage is intriguing as well, describing Bodhidharma’s reciting
the name of the Buddha. This practice, though not attributed to
Bodhidharma in later accounts, and not found in the works attributed
to him, was popular at the time, and was very much part of early Zen.
After this, the next account of Bodhidharma’s life is in the preface
to his work The Two Entrances and Four Practices, written by Tanlin,
who may have been a disciple of Bodhidharma.2 This account tells us
that Bodhidharma was from south India, and was born into a royal
family. This is a fairly conventional way of talking about revered
teachers, so there seems no particular reason to believe that
Bodhidharma was from India rather than Persia. Indeed, as Jeffrey
Broughton has said: ‘there is, however, nothing implausible about an
early sixth-century Iranian Buddhist master who made his way to
North China via the fabled Silk Road. This scenario is, in fact, more
likely than a South Indian master who made his way by the sea route.’3
In any case, the Masters of the Lanka tells us that Bodhidharma trav-
elled by sea to the eastern coast of China, possibly to the port city of
Hangzhou – near modern Shanghai.4 At that time, China was ruled by
several different kingdoms, and the area where Bodhidharma first
arrived was ruled by the Liang dynasty (502–87). Later, Bodhidharma
travelled north to Luoyang, a great city of Buddhist monasteries and the
capital of the Northern Wei dynasty (386–534). Bodhidharma then
travelled on to Ye, which became the capital of the new Eastern Wei
kingdom (535–50).5 Here he met his closest students and passed on his
teachings to them.
The Masters of the Lanka does not elaborate on the life of
Bodhidharma, staying close to its sources. By contrast, the Genealogy
of the Dharma Jewel adds more colour to the life of Bodhidharma with
some – almost certainly fictional – stories about his activities in
China. For example, it is said that before he came to China,

Bodhidharma sent two of his disciples to teach the path of immediate
enlightenment. Speaking to a senior Chinese monk, they said, ‘The
hand changes into a fist, and the fist changes into a hand; does this
happen quickly or not?’ When the monk replies that it happens
quickly, they disagree, saying, ‘Defilement changing into enlighten-
ment; this is quick!’6
Another story in the Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel became part of
the legend of Bodhidharma: his meeting with Emperor Wu of the
Liang dynasty. It is said that Emperor Wu came to meet Bodhidharma
personally to ask him what teachings he had brought from his country.
Bodhidharma replies, ‘I have not brought a single word.’ The emperor
then asks about the merit gained through building monasteries,
having scriptures copied and sculptures cast. Bodhidharma replies,
‘None at all,’ and goes on to say that this is a contrived form of virtue,
not real merit. The emperor is discomfited, and Bodhidharma has to
travel onwards.
The Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel paints a picture of Bodhidharma
as an iconoclast who made enemies in China (something that is also
mentioned in passing in the Masters of the Lanka). It tells several
stories about how he survived poisoning attempts, before eventually
passing away and being buried. However, after his burial, an emissary
is said to have met him in the Pamir Mountains, on the Silk Route
back to India, carrying one shoe in his hand.
***
The teachings of Bodhidharma are represented in the Masters of
the Lanka by a single text, his Two Entrances and Four Practices.
This accords with modern scholarship, which considers this text
the most likely of all those attributed to Bodhidharma to represent
his actual teachings. Also mentioned as being genuine, though not
quoted here, are two compilations of texts known as the Bodhidharma
Treatise. A third text, with the same name but longer, is mentioned
as a fake.
BODHIDHARMA 117
The contents of these Bodhidharma treatises probably overlap to a

great extent with the contents of a compendium known to modern
scholars as The Long Scroll. This compendium is in fact derived from
several scrolls from the Dunhuang cave. It begins with Bodhidharma’s
brief biography and the Two Entrances and Four Practices, much as we
find it here, and continues with further teachings attributed to
Bodhidharma, followed by quotations and dialogues involving
Bodhidharma, Huike and other masters.7
In any case, in all of these early traditions, the Two Entrances
and Four Practices was considered to be Bodhidharma’s core teaching.
This is not surprising – it is clear, well organized and explains how to
integrate practice of the Buddhist path with realization that one’s
nature is already the same as a buddha’s. At the beginning of the text,
Bodhidharma presents his teaching not as something new, but as a
distillation of a multitude of existing teachings. All of them, he says,
can be summarized according to the two entrances: entrance by prin-
ciple and entrance by practice.
The entrance by principle is based on the idea of the buddha
nature, and requires ‘a profound faith that sentient beings, whether
ordinary people or noble ones, are the same in their true nature, yet
due to adventitious and unreal obscuration this is not able to manifest
clearly’.
If you want to abandon the unreal and turn to the real, sit steadily
and gaze at a wall. Self and other, ordinary people and enlightened
ones, are one and the same. Sit firmly without moving, no longer
following spoken instructions. In this you are identical with the
hidden form of the true principle, a stillness without name.
The first thing to notice here is that the entrance by principle is also a
practice: sitting and gazing at a wall. Modern scholars often say that
we cannot know what this ‘wall gazing’ (bíguān in Chinese) actually
entailed. Based on other early sources, John McRae suggests that the
‘wall’ could be metaphorical, referring to the idea of keeping out the
winds of distraction.8 Thus the term would simply be a synonym for

peaceful meditation (Skt ‘śamatha’).
On the other hand, it is interesting to see how the Tibetan trans-
lator rendered the term in the ninth century. Though the Chinese
simply combines the characters for ‘wall’ and ‘to see’, the Tibetan
translation clearly means ‘gazing at the surface of a wall’ (rtsig ngos la
bltas pa). The Tibetan translator certainly did not see this as a
synonym for peaceful meditation (which would be translated as zhi
gnas in Tibetan). Though not a contemporary of Bodhidharma, the
Tibetan translator was much closer to those who were transmitting his
teaching tradition in its early stages than we are, and this translation is
one good reason to think that ‘wall gazing’ did indeed involve sitting
in front of a wall in meditation.
Taken literally in this way, wall gazing fits perfectly into the
Buddhist tradition of peaceful meditation, in which the meditator
usually has an object to focus on. The object may take many forms,
and one of the classical lists of objects is the ten kas ̣ina, which are the
four elements, the colours green, yellow, red and white, an open space
or a bright light.9 While kas ̣ina may be objects like a vase of flowers or
a candle, contemplation of many of the kas ̣ina does involve actually
gazing at a wall. For example, colours may take the form of coloured
textiles or paper discs pasted to a wall; the light may be a circle of light
cast from a lantern onto a wall; and the open space may be a hole in a
wall. Thus many of these classic peaceful meditation practices could
quite accurately be called ‘gazing at a wall’.
Meditation on the ten kas ̣ina is best known from the Pali canon and
the writings of the fifth-century commentator Buddhaghosa. Yet they
were part of the abhidharma literature, and known in other Buddhist
traditions as well.10 The kas ̣ina objects were linked to the stages of
experience in meditation (Skt ‘dhyāna’). Thus the idea of gazing at a
wall in meditation would be familiar to an Indian teacher well versed
in dhyāna, as Bodhidharma is said to have been.
Since Bodhidharma’s teaching does not mention the kas ̣ina object,
perhaps the focus was meant to be the wall itself. Since his meditation
BODHIDHARMA 119
is said to reveal the true principle, ‘without form, beyond analysis, a

stillness without name’, this seems appropriate.11 In any case, since
this is a very common form of Buddhist meditation, it explains why
Bodhidharma does not go into the details. Rather than explaining the
basics of peaceful contemplation, the main point that Bodhidharma
makes is that the meditator must be ‘identical with the true principle’.
This phrase ‘the principle’ is a particularly Chinese way of referring
to what is also called thusness, ultimate truth or the nature of things.12
In a study of the meaning of this word (lı̌ in Chinese), Brook Ziporyn
writes that ‘Li is the fact about things, in this case about all things without
exception, hence the universal universal, attention to which will lead to
liberation.’ The term was used in this way from the early Tiantai writings
of Zhiyi (538–97) onwards. We can’t know whether Bodhidharma, as a
foreign teacher, actually used the Chinese word lı̌, but his students did,
and it soon became part of the transmission of his teachings.13
Bodhidharma’s entrance by principle is in the background of medi-
tation practice in many modern Zen traditions, including Japanese
Soto. Yet it is striking that none of the successors to Bodhidharma in
the Masters of the Lanka refer to the entrance by principle or the prac-
tice of gazing at a wall even once. Though their teachings often
resemble Bodhidharma’s in various ways, it is clear that they did not
feel that they needed to frame their work in terms of the Two Entrances
and Four Practices, or any of Bodhidharma’s other works. This shows
us clearly that early Zen did not develop as a one-to-one transmission
from Bodhidharma onwards, but through the interaction of many
different teachers and practices.
After the entrance by principle comes the entrance by practice,
which is actually four practices. The first two of these form a pair: they
are topics to contemplate when one is suffering and when one is
happy and successful. Thus in the first practice, as an antidote to
becoming angry or despondent when facing negative circumstances,
one considers them to be karmic payback for one’s own misdeeds in
this and previous lives: ‘For incalculable aeons in the past, I have aban-
doned the source to chase after trivialities, wandering aimlessly
through all the realms of existence, incurring retributions for the

wrongdoings and the unbounded harm I have done.’ The point is not
to blame others for one’s suffering, but instead to turn it into some-
thing positive, i.e. the motivation to avoid doing harm to others in the
future.
Similarly, the second practice is an antidote to the exultation or
complacency that might come from experiencing good fortune. Here,
one contemplates the fact of dependent arising – that every situation
comes about through causes and conditions, and once those are no
longer present, the situation changes. Again, present circumstances
are considered to be the result of actions in past lifetimes: ‘These
circumstances are entirely due to my past lives. I am enjoying them at
this moment, but when the conditions for them are gone, they will
not remain either.’ Bodhidharma states that if one does these two
practices, one’s mind will no longer be subject to ups and downs.
The third and fourth practices are more like general approaches to
the Buddhist path. The third is ‘not seeking’, and is eloquently
summarized by a quote from a sutra: ‘Everyone who is seeking is
suffering; only when you stop seeking will you be happy.’ Seeking is
the process of attachment, taught by the Buddha as the primary cause
of suffering. To stop seeking, Bodhidharma writes, one should
contemplate that all things are empty, so there is nothing to aim for.
The fourth practice is to act in accord with the dharma; this comes
about through realization of the principle: ‘If wise people can develop
confidence in the principle then their practice will be in accord with
the dharma.’
Thus the fourth practice brings us back to the beginning of the text,
the entrance by principle. The manifestation of acting in accordance
with the dharma is the six perfections, beginning with the perfection
of generosity. Bodhidharma explains that the practice of the perfec-
tions is an expression of the nature of mind itself. So generosity is not
forced because mind is not stingy by nature. The perfection of gener-
osity is a spontaneous act of giving which is not defined by the three
aspects of the ordinary concept of giving: the person who gives, the
BODHIDHARMA 121
one who receives, and that which is given. Since these aspects are all
dependent on each other, they are empty.
The teachings in the Two Entrances and Four Practices are firmly
grounded in the Indic Buddhist traditions that a teacher like
Bodhidharma would have been familiar with, and apart from the
unusual term ‘wall gazing’, they do not offer anything revolutionary.
Yet taken as a whole, this is a concise and powerful text: the entrance
by principle, practised through wall gazing, offers an immediate reali-
zation of one’s own enlightened nature, while the four practices offer
a graduated path culminating in the realization of the principle.
Together they offer a way of bringing together immediate realization
with graduated practice.
This chapter ends with a few miscellaneous fragments of teachings,
which, as in the previous chapter, do not appear in the Tibetan transla-
tion. They are probably later additions, from the time of Shenxiu and
his students. Still, even if we can’t consider it a genuine description of
Bodhidharma’s teaching style, there is an interesting passage here
describing how a teacher would question students about ordinary
objects, challenging their conceptual framework:
The great teacher would point his finger at something and ask
about its significance. He would just point at a single object, and
call upon someone and question them about that object. Then he
would ask about all sorts of objects, swapping another name for the
object and asking about it in a different way.
In this vivid picture of a teaching situation, we see the teacher asking the
students to question their own basic assumptions about an object – that
it is x, that it bears the name x. This draws on an important idea that
runs through much of Buddhist philosophy – that language does not
define reality, and that the connection between words and things is
arbitrary. Buddhist philosophers developed this position in reaction to
Vedic schools’ belief that language (specifically, Sanskrit) exactly corre-
sponded to reality.14
In China, there was less interest in the idea that language must
correspond exactly to reality. Early discussions of language by the
Mohists and Confucianists were more concerned with its practical
application in ethics and politics, while in Daoism, language was
considered misleading if used to define the true nature of things, as in
the famous line from the Daodejing: ‘The name that can be named is
not the eternal name.’ The teaching style attributed to Bodhidharma
in the passage above seems to owe something to this Daoist heritage
as well.
Chapter Two
The dharma master Bodhidharma was the successor to the tripit.aka

master Gun ̣abhadra in the Wei dynasty. Bodhidharma was a medita-
tion teacher who was determined to propagate the mahayana. So he
crossed the sea to Wuyue and travelled from there to Luoyang before
arriving in Ye. The monks Daoyu and Huike served him for five years
before he taught them both the four practices.15 Bodhidharma said to
Huike: ‘Here are the four scrolls of the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra. If your prac-
tice is based on this you will be spontaneously liberated.’16
The rest of Bodhidharma’s life is told in the Further Biographies of
Eminent Monks.17 The following outline is from the preface to Entering
the Mahayana Path of the Four Practices written by Bodhidharma’s
disciple Tanlin.18
This dharma master came from the western regions, specifically the
south of India. He was the third son of a great Indian king.19 His intel-
ligence was piercing and bright, and he clearly understood everything
he was taught. He was determined to follow the mahayana path, so he
gave up the white clothes of a layman and adopted the black robes of
a monk. He transmitted the noble lineage and helped it to flourish. His
profound mind was empty and still, and saw right through worldly
affairs, with a clear understanding of inner and outer matters.20 His
enlightened qualities went beyond all worldly conventions.
Bodhidharma greatly regretted that the true teachings were in
decline at the borderlands. So he crossed distant seas and mountains,
travelling to teach in the Wei kingdom of China.21 Among the elite,
whose minds were still and quiet, there was no one who lacked faith
123
in him.22 But the type who cling to categories and protect their own
opinions went so far as to insult him.
At that time his only students were Daoyu and Huike. These two
monks, though young in years, carried a lofty and profound resolve.
They had the good fortune to meet the dharma teacher, and after
serving him for many years they asked with great reverence if he
would kindly bestow his thoughts upon them. The dharma teacher,
recognizing their aptitude, taught them the true path.
There is peace of mind,

There is how you begin to practise,
There is how you work with sentient beings,
And there is skilful means.
This is the mahayana dharma of peace of mind,
Which allows you to be free from error.
Peace of mind means wall gazing.23 Doing your practice means the
four practices. Working with sentient beings means putting a stop to
slander. And skilful means is abandoning whatever does not work.24
This brief outline is based on Bodhidharma’s own thoughts, which
appear immediately below.25
***
For those who are yet to enter the path, there are many options.
Ultimately, however, there are two basic types: first, entry by prin-
ciple, and second, entry by practice.
Entry by principle means relying on the teachings and realizing their
guiding principle: the deeply held faith that ordinary sentient beings and
enlightened ones are the same in their true nature, yet due to adventi-
tious and unreal obscuration this is not able to manifest clearly.26 If
you want to abandon the unreal and turn to the real, sit steadily and
gaze at a wall.27 Self and other, ordinary people and enlightened ones, are
one and the same. Sit firmly without moving, no longer following
spoken instructions. In this you are identical with the hidden form
BODHIDHARMA 125
of the true principle, a stillness without name. This is the entrance by

principle.
Entry by practice refers to four practices. All other practices are
included within these four. What is the sequence of these four prac-
tices? The first is the practice of contemplating retribution for past
wrongdoing.28 The second is the practice of contemplating depend-
ence.29 The third is not seeking. The fourth is practising in accord
with the dharma.30
1
What is the practice of contemplating retribution for past wrongdo-
ings? When a person who is cultivating the path experiences suffering,
they should think to themselves as follows: ‘For incalculable aeons in
the past, I have abandoned the source to chase after trivialities,
wandering aimlessly through all the realms of existence, incurring
retribution for the wrongdoings and the unbounded harm I have
done. Even if I have done nothing wrong recently, this is the ripening
of negative karma from my long past misdeeds. It is not sent by the
gods or inflicted by other people.’
Those who bear suffering with willingness do not give rise to
further wrongdoing. As the sutra says: ‘When you meet with suffering,
do not despair.’31 How does this work? It works by recognizing the
source. When you develop this attitude, you are in harmony with
the principle. Understanding the nature of adversity, you progress
on the path.32 This is what I call the practice of contemplating retribu-
tion for past wrongdoings.
2
Second is the practice of contemplating dependence. Sentient beings
have no self, but they continue to exist in dependence upon their past
actions. The experiences of happiness and suffering are both based on
dependent arising. If you become successful, prosperous, highly
praised and the like, you should think: ‘These circumstances are
entirely due to my past lives. I am enjoying them at this moment, but
when the conditions for them are gone, they will not remain either.
How can I exult in having them when gaining and losing them depend
on these conditions?’
Then your mind will not be subject to ups and downs, you will be
unmoved by the winds of exultation, profoundly in accord with the
path.33 This is what I call the practice of contemplating dependence.
3
Third is the practice of not seeking. Worldly people are always
deluded, developing attachment at every point.34 This is called
‘seeking’. Wise people understand how the true principle is applied to
ordinary life.35 Once peace of mind is unchanging, the body becomes
adaptable to change.36
All existent things are empty, so there is nothing to aim for. Good
and bad always follow one another.37 The three realms in which we
have lived for so long are like a house on fire. To have a body is to
suffer. Who can find peace? When you fully understand this, you cease
to think of the many forms of existence, and no longer seek anything.
The sutra says:
Everyone who is seeking is suffering;

Only when you stop seeking will you be happy.38
Thus to truly not seek anything is to genuinely practise the path.
4
Fourth, practising in accord with the dharma. It is thanks to the essen-
tial purity of the principle that it enacts the dharma. The many forms
taken by the principle are empty, without defilement or attachment,
without ‘this’ or ‘that’.39
The sutra says:40
In the dharma there are no sentient beings,

Because it is free of the defilements of sentient beings.41
BODHIDHARMA 127
In the dharma there is no ego,

Because it is free from the defilements of ego.
If wise people can develop confidence in the principle then their prac-
tice will be in accord with the dharma.
Things in their essence are not parsimonious of body and life, so
engage in the practice of giving.42 The mind is not stingy; if you
understand the three aspects of emptiness you will be without
dependence or attachment.43 So, once you have abandoned defile-
ment, you will not grasp at categories when you are teaching sentient
beings. Helping yourself in this way, you are also able to help others,
and can be an ornament of the path to awakening.
This is what the perfection of giving is like, and the other five
perfections as well. When you eliminate delusion and cultivate the
practice of the six perfections, then there is nothing to be practised.
This is practising in accord with the dharma.
***
These are the four practices that were personally taught by the medi-
tation master Bodhidharma. His disciple Tanlin also recorded the
master’s other words and deeds and compiled them in a single scroll
called ‘the Bodhidharma Treatise’. Bodhidharma also wrote, for
groups practising sitting meditation, a commentary on the key points
of the Laṅkāvatāra in one scroll comprising twelve or thirteen sheets,
which is also called ‘the Bodhidharma Treatise’.44
These two books are perfect in both language and logic, and have
spread across the world. Apart from these, there is a ‘Bodhidharma
Treatise’ in three scrolls that someone has forged. Since the language
is complicated and the logic is incoherent, it is not suitable to use for
one’s practice.45
***
The great teacher would point his finger at something and ask about
its significance. He would just point at a single object, and call upon
someone and question them about that object. Then he would ask
about all sorts of objects, swapping another name for the object and
asking about it in a different way.
He also said – Does this body exist? What kind of body is this
body?
He also said – A haze of clouds in the sky is ultimately unable to
stain the sky; nevertheless it can hide the sky so its clear light cannot
be seen.46
The Nirvana Sutra says:
Internally, there are no six sense bases,

Externally, there are no six objects of the senses,
Because internal and external are combined;
This is called the middle path.47
CHAPTER TEN
HUIKE
The Buddha Within
In Zen, Bodhidharma’s student Huike is the great example of the

devotion of a student to a teacher, and the determination required to
follow the path. This is expressed in an extreme form in the story of
Huike cutting off his own arm to show Bodhidharma his determina-
tion. In the Masters of the Lanka, this is reported in Huike’s own
words:
When I first generated the aspiration for enlightenment, I cut off

one of my arms, and stood up straight in the snow from dusk till the
third watch of the night, not noticing as the snow piled up around
my knees.1
The ‘aspiration for enlightenment’ is bodhicitta, an important concept

in Mahayana Buddhism, meaning aspiring not just towards one’s own
enlightenment, but for the enlightenment of all sentient beings. Thus
bodhicitta is the firmly held wish to enter the path of the bodhisattva.
Huike’s act of cutting off his arm is not intended as an example to be
followed, but its extreme nature conveys the extreme seriousness of
the bodhisattva vow: to personally undertake to liberate all living
beings from samsara.
For a reader familiar with the world of Buddhism, Huike’s sacrifice
recalls the many self-sacrificing actions of the bodhisattva who even-
tually was born as Prince Gautama and became the Buddha Śākyamuni.
In the stories known as jātaka, the previous lives of the Buddha
include many accounts of sacrifice, some of them extreme, such as
129
that of the Prince Sudana, who gave away everything, including his
wife and children, or the unnamed bodhisattva who gave his body to
a starving tigress and her cubs.
In Buddhist traditions around the world, these stories have
elicited debates about the limits of self-sacrifice. Though rare, the
cutting off of an extremity (usually fingers or toes) and self-immolation
have been practised by Buddhist monks and nuns, yet these are not
the way jātaka stories, or Huike’s sacrifice, are usually understood.
Rather than encouraging imitation, they are taken as the strongest
possible way of communicating the seriousness of the bodhisattva’s
vow.
Much of the teaching contained in this chapter of the Masters of
the Lanka is about the buddha nature (tathāgatagarbha in Sanskrit,
fóxìng in Chinese). The common English translation ‘buddha nature’,
which I am using here, is a direct translation of the Chinese. The
Sanskrit ‘tathāgatagarbha’ is a little more difficult to translate: a
‘tathāgata’ is a buddha, which is straightforward enough, but ‘garbha’
means literally ‘womb’ and as an extension, anything interior. Thus
it might equally be translated as ‘the buddha within’. This is exactly
how the buddha nature is often presented; a quotation from a sutra
in this chapter states that, ‘In the body of every sentient being there
is a vajra buddha.’
Huike uses a series of metaphors to further illustrate the idea of the
buddha nature. It is like a lamp placed in a vase – its light is undimin-
ished, but cannot be seen in this state. Equally, the buddha nature can
be compared to the sun temporarily obscured by clouds:
The sun’s light has not been diminished; it is just obscured by the
hazy clouds and not seen by sentient beings. When the clouds part
and are cleared away, the sunlight shines everywhere, its radiance
pure and unobscured.
These metaphors for the buddha nature are drawn from the sutras, but
Huike uses one further metaphor said to come from ‘a secular book’ –
HUIKE 131
meaning a non-Buddhist source. He quotes two brief sayings: ‘Though

ice appears in water, it is able to stop water’, and ‘When ice melts, water
flows.’ Though I have not found these exact words in Chinese literary
sources, some very similar sayings are found in the Anthology of
Literary Texts, a compendium of Chinese literary quotations taken
from earlier works, which was compiled in the early seventh century.2
The analogy of ice and water continued through the centuries in
both Buddhist and Daoist traditions.3 It is central to the thinking of
the neo-Confucian Zhang Zai (1020–77), who argued that the basis
of all existence, called qì, is formless, but manifests as everything in
the world through a transformation akin to water freezing into ice.4 An
eighteenth-century Daoist writer used the same analogy, with even
more Buddhist leanings:
Water freezes into ice when it is cold, ice melts into water when it
is warm. What I realize as I observe this is the Tao of becoming
either a sage or an ordinary person. At first, human nature is basi-
cally good. There is originally no distinction between the sage and
the ordinary person. It is because of the energy of accumulated
habits that there comes to be a difference between sages and ordi-
nary people.5
Back in the Buddhist tradition, the influential Japanese Zen

reformer Hakuin Ekaku (1686–1768) began one of his most popular
poems with the same analogy:
Sentient beings are in essence buddhas.

It is like water and ice.
There is no ice without water;
There are no buddhas outside of sentient beings.6
Here, the difference between ice and water is the difference between
the ordinary person and the Buddha, much as in Huike’s teaching.
The analogy has also carried through to the present in Zen; in one of
her talks the American Zen teacher Charlotte Joko Beck compared
the nature of ordinary human beings to ice cubes, giving the metaphor
a psychological reading:
To protect ourselves we freeze as hard as we can and hope that

when we collide with others, they will shatter before we do. We
freeze because we’re afraid. Our fear makes us rigid, fixed, and hard,
and we create mayhem as we bump into others. Any obstacle or
unexpected difficulty is likely to shatter us.
The positive side of this is that ice can melt, through the practice of
meditation.
Eventually what we are as ice cubes is destroyed. But if the ice cube
has become a puddle, is it truly destroyed? We could say that it’s no
longer an ice cube, but its essential self is realized.7
The metaphor has continued outside Buddhism, in the way Bruce

Lee described his system of martial arts, Jeet Kune Do. Here, while the
aim might be different, the sense of the metaphor is very much akin to
the way Charlotte Joko Beck uses it in her talk:
When one has reached maturity in the art, one will have a formless
form. It is like the dissolving or thawing of ice into water that can
shape itself into any structure. When one has no form, one can be
all forms; when one has no style, one can fit in with any style.8
Returning to Huike, we can see why the Daoist metaphor of ice and
water is brought into dialogue with the idea of the buddha nature. It
makes it clear that the buddha nature is not something separate from
ourselves, or contained within ourselves, but something that is insepa-
rable; it is what we are.9
***
HUIKE 133
In Huike’s teachings, the idea that we are all buddhas as part of our
very nature leads on to his insistence that we do not need to rely on
other people’s accounts of the path. Everything we need is here in our
very nature. Huike presents his own experience as an example to
follow: ‘Once I had verified for myself the benefits of sitting medita-
tion, I dispensed with the attitude of looking for the principle in
books of written dharma, and strove to accomplish buddhahood.’
If we have the buddha nature – if we are ice that simply needs to
melt – then reading about this will not get us very far. Huike advises
his students to stay away from books, or at least not to spend too much
time with them: ‘those who read books should look into them for a
while, then promptly set them aside’. And he quotes a verse from a
sutra that stands as a sharp rebuke to those who spend most of their
time reading or writing books:
There is a story of a very poor person

Who spent day and night counting the wealth of others
Without a penny of his own.
Scholarship is very much like this.
This is an uncomfortable message for scholars, both ancient and

modern, but it is also addressed to anyone for whom the collecting
and reading of texts takes the place of practice. Huike’s chapter ends
with a long quotation from the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra, with the message
that realization about any aspect of reality is equivalent to total realiza-
tion. This is because even the distinction between ‘one’ and ‘many’ is
false, a theme that is continued in the next chapter, in the teachings of
Sengcan.
Chapter Three
The monk Huike became the successor of the meditation master

Bodhidharma in Ye, during the Qi dynasty.10 The meditation master
Huike’s family name was Ji, and he came from Wulao.11 He met
Bodhidharma at the age of fourteen, when the master was travelling
and teaching in Songshan and Luoyang. Huike served him for six
years, mastering all aspects of the single vehicle while adhering to the
profound principle.12 He composed some brief teachings on the path
of cultivation, the key dharma points regarding the luminous mind
and completing the ascent to buddhahood.13
The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra says:
Observe the Sage in peace,

Beyond birth and death.
This is called ‘not clinging’
Pure now and ever after.14
If there is a single one of all the buddhas of the ten directions who did
not achieve this through sitting meditation, then there is no such
thing as complete buddhahood.15
The Daśabhūmika sūtra says:
In the body of every sentient being

There is the vajra buddha.
This is just like the sun,
134
HUIKE 135
Luminous, perfect and complete.

It is vast and unlimited,
Yet covered by the dark clouds of the five aggregates,
So sentient beings cannot see it.16
When they meet with the winds of wisdom, the dark clouds of the five
aggregates are blown away. Once they are gone, the buddha nature
shines out, bright, luminous and pure.
The Avatam ̣ saka sūtra says:
Vast as the reality itself,

Endless as space.17
It is also like the light of a lamp inside a vase that cannot shine out. Or
like when hazy clouds come across the land all at once from all direc-
tions, plunging the land into darkness. How can the sunlight be pure
and clear? The sun’s light has not been diminished; it is just obscured
by the hazy clouds and not seen by sentient beings. When the clouds
part and are cleared away, the sunlight shines everywhere, its radiance
pure and unobscured.18
The pure nature of all sentient beings is like this; it is just that
grasping, deluded thought, wrong views and dark clouds of the afflic-
tions obscure the noble path so that it is unable to fully manifest.19 On
the other hand, if deluded thoughts do not arise, and you sit in pure
stillness, then the pure luminosity of the sun of great nirvana arises
spontaneously.20
A secular book says: ‘Though ice comes from water, it is able to
stop water’, and ‘When ice melts, water can flow again.’21 Similarly,
though delusion arises from reality, reality can get lost in delusion. But
when delusion comes to an end, reality is revealed. The ocean of the
mind becomes instantly and perfectly clear; this is the dharmakaya,
empty and pure.22
Thus a student who takes written words and spoken teachings as
the path is like a candle in the wind, unable to dispel the darkness
when its flame blows out.23 If they sit in purity, doing nothing, this is
like a lamp kept inside a sealed house, which can thus dispel the dark-
ness and illuminate objects so that they can be clearly seen. If they
understand that the source of the mind is pure, then all desires will be
satisfied, all activities accomplished. With absolutely everything
achieved, they will not have to go through further rebirths.24
Among sentient beings as numerous as the sands on the banks
of the Ganges, barely a single person exists who will attain this
dharmakaya. In a billion aeons there may be no more than a single
person who fulfils these criteria. If true sincerity has not arisen within
you, then not even all the buddhas of the three times, who are as
numerous as the sands on the banks of the Ganges, can help you.25
Know this: sentient beings who recognize the nature of mind
liberate themselves. It is not buddhas who liberate sentient beings. If
buddhas were able to liberate sentient beings, then since we have
already met buddhas countless as the sand on the banks of the
Ganges, why have we not accomplished buddhahood yet?26 It is only
because genuine sincerity has not arisen within us. We say we get it,
but our minds do not get it.
As the dharma scriptures say, those who teach emptiness while
keeping to worldly practices are imitating the ultimate path, and in the
end they will not avoid being reborn in accord with their past
actions.27 Thus the buddha nature is like the sun and moon in the
world or the potential for fire within wood.28
This buddha nature, which exists in everyone, is also known as ‘the
lamp of the buddha nature’ and ‘the mirror of nirvana’. This mirror of
vast nirvana is brighter than the sun and moon, completely pure inside
and out, unbound and unlimited. It is also like smelting gold: after the
gold has taken shape and the fire has gone out, the nature of the gold
remains unspoilt. Just so, after the succession of lives and deaths of
sentient beings has come to an end, the dharmakaya remains unspoilt.
It is also like when a ball or lump of dirt is broken up – the indi-
vidual particles are not destroyed.29 When rough waves cease, the
nature of the water is not affected; just so, after the succession of lives
HUIKE 137
and deaths of sentient beings has come to an end, the dharmakaya

remains unspoilt.30
Once I had verified for myself the benefits of sitting meditation, I
dispensed with the attitude of looking for the principle in books of
written dharma, and strove to accomplish buddhahood. There is not
one person in ten thousand who does this.31 As an old book says,
drawing food does not make a meal.32 If you just talk about food with
people, how will you eat? When you try to remove a stopper, para-
doxically, you often push it in more tightly.33
There is a story of a very poor person

Who spent day and night counting the wealth of others
Without a penny of his own.
Scholarship is very much like this.34
So those who read books should look into them briefly, then promptly
set them aside. If they do not put them away again, how is this study
of words different from looking for ice in hot water? Or boiling water
but hoping to find snow? Thus the buddhas may teach the teachings,
or teach the teachings by not teaching. In the true nature of things,
there is neither teaching nor not teaching.35 If you realize this, every-
thing else follows.36
The Lotus Sutra says:
Not true, not false,

Not the same, not different.37
***
The great master said –
In this teaching of the real dharma, everything is in accord with

the truth,
And is ultimately no different from the profound principle itself.

At first, deluded people see the precious stone and call it a rock;
Then they suddenly realize that it is a genuine jewel.
There is no difference between ignorance and wisdom;
Just know that all phenomena are like this.
Out of compassion for those who spend their lives seeing them as
different,
I speak these words, and write them down with my brush.
When you see yourself as no different from the Buddha,
Why would you continue to search elsewhere?
***
He also said – When I first generated the aspiration for enlighten-
ment, I cut off one of my arms, and stood up straight in the snow
from dusk till the third watch of the night, not noticing as the
snow piled up around my knees, in order to seek the unsurpassable
path.
As it is taught in the seventh volume of the Avatam
̣ saka sūtra:
When you enter a state of absorption in the east,

Samadhi arises in the west.38
When you enter a state of absorption in the west,
Samadhi arises in the east.
When you enter a state of absorption based on the eyes,
Samadhi arises in forms.39
Showing that the manifestation of forms is non-conceptual,
Something that gods and humans are unable to comprehend.
When you enter a state of absorption in forms,
Concentration arises in the eyes, and you are freed from
confusion.40
The eye that sees is not produced, nor does it have an intrinsic
nature;
I teach that emptiness is stillness which abides nowhere.
HUIKE 139
The ear, nose, tongue, body and intellect,

Are also like this.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a child,
Samadhi arises in the body of an adult.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of an adult,
Samadhi arises in the body of an aged person.
When you enter samadhi in the body of an aged person,
Samadhi arises in the body of a virtuous woman.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a virtuous
woman,
Samadhi appears in the body of a virtuous man.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a virtuous
man,
Samadhi appears in the body of a nun.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a nun,
Samadhi appears in the body of a monk.
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a monk,
Samadhi appears in the body of a hearer.41
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a hearer,
Samadhi appears in the body of a solitary budda.42
When you enter the state of absorption in the body of a solitary
buddha,
Samadhi appears in the body of a tathāgata.
When you enter the state of absorption in a single pore,
Samadhi appears in all of your pores.
When you enter the state of absorption in all of your pores,
Samadhi arises on the tip of a single hair.
When you enter the state of absorption on the tip of a single hair,
Samadhi arises in all of your hairs.
When you enter the state of absorption in all of your hairs,
Samadhi arises in a single mote of dust.
When you enter the state of absorption in a single mote of dust,
Samadhi arises in all motes of dust.
When you enter the state of absorption in a vast ocean of water,
Samadhi arises in a great blaze of fire.

One body can give rise to countless bodies,
And countless bodies can be one body.43
If you attain realization of this one thing, everything else follows.

Everything is just this – the dharmakaya, the guiding principle.44
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SENGCAN
Heaven in a Grain of Sand
Sengcan is an obscure figure, whose main significance is as the link

between Huike and Daoxin. Even the earliest Zen lineage histories,
including the Masters of the Lanka, have little to say about his life, and
what is added in later sources is suspect. Nevertheless, these later
stories are also part of the Zen tradition. For example, the Genealogy
of the Dharma Jewel tells us how Sengcan met his teacher Huike. The
story is that they met in a crowded place, where Sengcan asked to
study with Huike. Noticing that Sengcan was suffering from palsy,
Huike asked him why he wanted to study with him. Sengcan answered
that though his body was afflicted, his mind was identical to Huike’s
own mind.1 The story is more elaborate in the Further Biographies of
Eminent Monks:
In the second year of the Tianping era of the Northern Qi dynasty

[536], a layman whose name is not known came to Huike and said,
‘My body has been wracked by a terrible illness. I ask that you help
me absolve the transgression I’ve committed that has caused this.’
Huike said, ‘Bring to me the transgression you’ve committed
and I’ll absolve it.’
The layman said, ‘I look for the transgression but I can’t find it.’
Huike said, ‘There, I’ve absolved your transgression. Now you
should abide in Buddha, dharma, and sangha.’2
If this conversation seems familiar, it is because it echoes the story

of Huike’s conversation with Bodhidharma, in which Bodhidharma
141
challenges Huike to show his mind so that it can be made calm, and
Huike cannot do so.3 Thus mind is shown to be an empty concept. In
this version of the story, it is karma, the cause and effect of actions,
that is shown to be empty. The conversation continues:
The layman said, ‘Seeing you here, I know what is meant by “sangha,”
but I still don’t know what are called Buddha and dharma.’
Huike said, ‘Mind is Buddha. Mind is dharma. Buddha and
dharma are not two different things. Along with sangha they
comprise the three jewels.’
The layman said, ‘Today, for the first time, I realize that my
transgression was not internal, was not external, and was not in
between these two states. It was entirely within mind. Buddha and
dharma are not two things.’4
After this exchange, Huike gives the layman the name Sengcan,
meaning ‘Jewel of the Sangha’. The three jewels – Buddha, dharma
and sangha – represent the Buddha, his teachings and the community
of practitioners. To say the Buddha is the same as the dharma is to say
that the Buddha is what he taught. To say that both are the mind is to
affirm that they are not external things to be sought or worshipped,
but are to be realized as one’s own mind.
Despite the success of this meeting, the Genealogy of the Dharma
Jewel states that the two had little chance to spend time together,
because Buddhism was being suppressed at the time and Sengcan had
to spend a decade in hiding on Mount Huangong. His late adoption of
Zen and this remote and solitary existence might explain Sengcan’s
obscurity. The story of Sengcan’s death is told in the same way in the
Masters of the Lanka and the Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel – how he
died in a standing position, showing his mastery of body and mind.5
Though the Masters of the Lanka tells us that Sengcan never wrote
a book, it does quote his words. These are from a commentary on a
teaching called Explaining the Hidden. The original text was written by
Huiming (531–68), a contemporary of Sengcan.6 The teaching of
SENGCAN 143
Explaining the Hidden may be summarized as the sameness of all

things, due to the redundancy of all our categories. The essence of this
teaching is expressed in this verse:
We do not get stuck on whether things are self or other;

We do not judge situations to be right or wrong.
A single atom contains all the phenomena of the universe;
A single moment contains all time, past, present and future.
For a Western reader, these words may be reminiscent of the opening

lines of William Blake’s Auguries of Innocence:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
An educated Buddhist, on the other hand, would be reminded of

similar statements in the sutras about the nature of enlightened aware-
ness. In the Gan ̣d ̣avyūha sūtra, for example, the Tower of Vairocana is
a visionary abode of those who have attained enlightenment; in a
hymn of praise to these enlightened beings, it is said that:
Here they enter infinite aeons

In a single thought.
And:
In a single atom they see

Congregations, lands, beings, and ages,
As numerous as all atoms,
All there without obstruction.7
And Jingjue, in the preface to the Masters of the Lanka, says something
similar: ‘Within a single hair there is the entire universe, and one mote
of dust contains the limitless cosmos.’ Statements like these may seem
mystical and impossible to justify, but in Buddhism they do have a
philosophical basis. As we have already seen, Madhyamaka philos-
ophy argues that everything exists in dependence on other things. In
Sengcan’s brief text, this is expressed in metaphors:
Like a precious palace decorated with jewels,

Or a crystal tower hung with mirrors,
This and that are separate but enter into each other.
The image of a network of jewels or mirrors, all reflecting each

other, is a poetic expression of the network of dependence. A Buddhist
of Sengcan’s time would also recognize the reference to the Tower of
Vairocana. When the hero of the Gan ̣d ̣avyūha sūtra, Sudhana, enters
the tower, he sees:
Hundreds of thousands of other towers similarly arrayed; he saw

those towers as infinitely vast as space, evenly arrayed in all direc-
tions, yet those towers were not mixed up with one another, being
each mutually distinct, while appearing reflected in each and every
object of all the other towers.8
This is a metaphor for the nature of things: while any thing may be
distinguished from another, it cannot exist independently because its
existence depends on a variety of causes and conditions. Like jewels
or mirrors that all reflect each other without losing their specific exist-
ence, all things – including ourselves – are ultimately linked to all
other things. Yet Buddhists do not believe that everything merges into
an amorphous Oneness. As Sengcan says:
Though large and small are different, they blend with each other
like images in mirrors, each one distinct, like different forms inter-
secting in a single shape. The one is the same as the all, and the all
is the same as the one.
SENGCAN 145
The most well-known image of this interdependence is Indra’s net,

a network of jewels, all reflecting each other, which had become
popular in China due to the success of the Huayan school.9 The reali-
zation of the network of dependence is at the core of Sengcan’s text,
and indeed of much Zen discourse. Little is said here on how this
translates into practice, but it does seem that the understanding of the
dependent and relative nature of all categories, including right and
wrong, does not mean that Buddhist practices are abandoned:
Just as a monkey put in chains stops jumping around,

Or a snake entering a bamboo tube stops being crooked,
Cross the wide sea in the vessel of the precepts,
Illuminate the darkness with the flame of insight.
In other words, even if right and wrong are relative, it is necessary to

follow the Buddhist moral precepts. And even if the state of confusion
and enlightenment are fundamentally the same, it is important to
practise meditation to achieve wisdom. Otherwise the mind is like the
monkey jumping around, never staying still long enough to recognize
its own nature. Apparently Sengcan never put into writing any instruc-
tions on how to practise meditation, but that was to be remedied by
his student, Daoxin.
Chapter Four
In the Sui dynasty, the successor to Huike was meditation master

Sengcan, from Sikong Mountain in Shuzhou. The name and status of
meditation master Sengcan’s family are unknown, and his place of
birth cannot be found. The Further Biographies of Eminent Monks
simply says, ‘after Huike came the meditation master Sengcan’.
He lived in seclusion on Sikong Mountain, sitting in pure solitude,
and never wrote down his teachings. His secret dharma was only
transmitted to the monk Daoxin, who served him for twelve years.
Like water poured from one vessel to another or the passing of the
flame from one lamp to another, Daoxin received everything.10 Once
Daoxin had seen the buddha nature in himself, Sengcan gave his seal
of approval in the genuine path.
Sengcan said to Daoxin –

There is only this one true way,11
No second or third.12
Know then that this noble path is profound, and cannot be grasped
by explaining it in words. The dharmakaya is empty and still, and
cannot be reached through seeing and hearing. So written words and
oral explanations are just efforts wasted in speculation. The
Laṅkāvatāra, the sutra that embodies the principle of peace of
mind in the special greater vehicle, and distinguishes truth from
146
SENGCAN 147
error, says ‘the dharma path of the saints is silence, never taught in
words’.13
Then the great master said, ‘Everyone else regards sitting at the
moment of death as something exceptionally rare. I will now leave this
life while I stand, liberating myself from samsara.’14 As soon as he had
finished speaking, he held on to a branch, and in this posture he
breathed his last breath. After his death an image of him was placed in
the temple of Yugong Mountain monastery, where it can still be seen.15
***
From The Commentary on Explaining the Hidden:16
There is only one true way, profound and expansive,

But oh, the difficulties caused by our many categories!
Ultimate and conventional appear to be different,17
But they are the same in essence.
Ordinary people and sages may seem far apart,
But they are on the same path.
Look for a limit and you find
That in this openness there are no borders.
No end at the furthest point,
No beginning at the source,
No stopping at the edges.
This permeates understanding and confusion;
This blends together purity and defilement,
Combining existence and emptiness in tranquillity,
Embracing space and time so they are one and the same,
Just as gold is inseparable from rings and bracelets,
And a lake is unspoiled by the ripples on its surface.
The commentary says:18
The discussion of limits and borders shows that the principle is

without interruption or adulteration. The discussion of beginnings
and ends is because the buddha nature is not something that can be
created. This way of teaching the nonduality of light and dark
brings together good and evil in the path of equality.
It is without movement, but does not rest; without difference,
but does not conform. The similes for this are the way the water
makes waves, and the way gold is used to make objects.19 The gold
of which these objects are made is their very substance, so there
can be no objects without the gold. The waves which the water
makes are its own activity, so likewise there are no waves separate
from the water.
See how dependent arising is without obstruction!

Be confident that the nature of things is beyond comprehension!
Like a precious palace decorated with pearls,
Or a jade tower hung with mirrors,20
This and that are separate but blend with each other,
Red and purple are different but merge in the reflected light.
Things do not get stuck on self or other;
Events do not judge about right or wrong.
A single atom contains all the phenomena of the universe;
A single moment contains all time, past, present and future.
Since those of little faith may be afraid of statements like these,
We borrow the image of Indra’s net to remove their doubts.
This is hidden so that only true vision can observe it;21
How could it be known by a deluded consciousness?
The commentary says:
This is an explanation of the secret of dependent arising. Indra’s net

is the phenomenal world. The one is the same as the all – they
intermingle yet they are not the same. Why? Categories lack a
reality of their own, yet they must be based on what is real. Since
categories are always an aspect of the true principle, they cannot
obstruct it.22
SENGCAN 149
Though large and small are different, they blend with each other
like images in mirrors, each one distinct, like different forms inter-
secting in a single shape. The one is the same as the all, and the all
is the same as the one. Dependent arising does not obscure the
principle; it is actually the same as the principle. Thus we know
that the entire expanse of the universe is held within a tiny particle,
without being confined. The whole extent of past, present and
future times is contained in the briefest of moments.
Wise people who have grasped the principle can clearly see what
is on the other side of a metal screen without obstruction, and pass
through a stone wall without the slightest hindrance.23 On the
other hand, those who are not able to grasp the principle in this
way may be wise, but do not have such powers. If you understand
that the principle permeates everything then you will no longer be
hindered by the pressure of thoughts and emotions, and with the
wisdom of universal vision you will be able to recognize the ulti-
mate truth.
Just as a monkey put in chains stops jumping around,

Or a snake entering a bamboo tube stops being crooked,
Cross the wide sea in the vessel of the precepts,
Illuminate the darkness with the flame of insight.24
The commentary says:
The monkey in chains is a metaphor for the way the precepts regu-
late the mind, and the snake entering a bamboo tube is a metaphor for
how concentration settles confusion.25 The Mahāprajñāpāramitā-
śāstra says, ‘The snake’s gait is normally crooked, but when it
enters a bamboo tube, it immediately straightens out.’26 This is like
the way that concentration regulates the mind. In the chapter on
the three bodies in the Suvarn ̣aprabhāsa sūtra it says, ‘Though the
Buddha has three names, he does not have a threefold essence.’27
C H A P T E R T W E LV E
DAOXIN I
How to Sit
Daoxin was the first Zen teacher who left clear and specific instruc-
tions on how to practise sitting meditation. These instructions survive
thanks to their inclusion in the Masters of the Lanka. The way that the
Masters of the Lanka includes only the bare minimum of Daoxin’s
biography but the whole of his teachings on meditation shows how
much this text differs from the other Zen lineage histories from
around the same time – both the Transmission of the Dharma Jewel and
the Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel give more details from Daoxin’s life,
but nothing of his teachings.
The Transmission of the Dharma Jewel tells a story that is repeated in
various forms in most later biographies. In the year 607, Daoxin trav-
elled to a town near China’s eastern coast. When he arrived a group of
bandits had surrounded the town and were laying siege to it. The
town’s wells had run dry and the people were desperate. The town
magistrate asked Daoxin for help, and he advised the local monks and
laypeople to recite the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra. They did, and this
caused the bandits to see giant soldiers advancing on them; the
soldiers fled and the city was saved.1
Apart from stories such as this, about events which may or may
not have happened, we know little about the activities of Daoxin. We
do know that from 624 onwards, Daoxin settled on Shuangfeng
Mountain (in English, Twin Peaks) where he built a monastery, the
first teacher in this early Zen lineage to do so. In building his monas-
tery, Daoxin established the model followed even more successfully
150
D A OX I N I 151
by Hongren in the next generation, and with huge and lasting impact
by Shenxiu in the generation after that.
In any case, this chapter of the Masters of the Lanka is dedicated to
Daoxin’s teachings. The way the text introduces these teachings has
previously been translated as a single long title.2 However, the text
does actually indicate two things, the first of which is a volume with
the title Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts. The text then goes on to
state that Daoxin ‘also composed’ teachings for novices on methods
for attaining peace of mind.3 I believe this should be read as a phrase
rather than a title because of the previous statement that only a single
book of Daoxin’s survives. Then the teachings for beginners would
refer to scattered records of Daoxin’s teachings without specific titles.
Therefore what we appear to have here in Masters of the Lanka is
the complete text of Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts followed by
some of his shorter teachings. The Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts
itself looks like a record of a sermon, along with several questions
from students that are answered by Daoxin. If so, the text belongs to
the genre of sermons given during the ceremony of bestowing the
bodhisattva precepts, which would make it the first Zen text in this
genre, later examples being Shenhui’s sermon and the famous Platform
Sutra of Huineng.
I suggest that the teachings for beginners that follow the Methods
for the Bodhisattva Precepts start with the sentence, ‘When you are
beginning the practice of sitting meditation, you should stay in a quiet
place and closely observe your own body and mind.’ The instructions
on meditation that follow overlap considerably with what came
before, which suggests that this is another text. Furthermore, these
instructions end with the words, ‘the above are the skilful means for
novices’. Following this, the Daoxin chapter contains a few more
miscellaneous teachings, including instructions on how to die, and
critical comments on the Daoist classics Daodejing and Zhuangzi.
In this chapter I include the translation of the whole text of Daoxin’s
Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts. The translations of the instruc-
tions for novices and other supplementary material, including Daoxin’s

criticism of Daoist classics, are in the following chapter. As a sermon
given at the ceremony for bestowing the bodhisattva vows, the
Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts could be intended for a lay audi-
ence, or at least a mixed audience. At the beginning of the text, Daoxin
says that his teachings are for those ‘who possess the appropriate
conditions and fully ripened capabilities’, a description that encom-
passes both monastics and laypeople.
The sermon covers several different meditation techniques, three
of which are described in detail. Since I discussed these thoroughly in
chapter 5 above, I will only mention them briefly here. The first is
mindfulness of the Buddha, that is, visualization of a buddha and
recitation of his name, leading to a state of nondual awareness. This is
also called ‘the single practice concentration’. The second is simply
becoming aware of and residing in mind’s nature, which is clear and
luminous. The third is the practice of analysing physical forms, partic-
ularly one’s own body, in order to establish that they are empty,
followed by resting in a state of oneness.
Chapter Five
The meditation master Daoxin became the successor to the medita-

tion master Sengcan in the early Tang, at Shuangfeng Mountain in
Jizhou.4 He was a true master of meditation who reopened the gates
to meditation practice, disseminating it widely across the land. One
book of his, titled Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts, is extant, and
he also composed teachings for beginners on methods for attaining
peace of mind.
Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts

I shall explain these key methods to you who possess the appropriate
conditions and fully ripened capabilities. This will be in accord
with the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra, which says, ‘for all buddhas, the mind
is supreme’.5 It also accords with the Wisdom Sutra Taught by
Mañjuśrī, which says that when you are mindful of the buddha in
the single practice concentration, your mind is the buddha, but
if you have deluded thoughts then you remain an unenlightened
person.6
The Wisdom Sutra Taught by Mañjuśrī says:
Mañjuśrī asked the Buddha: ‘Oh you whom the world honours,
what is the single practice concentration?’
The Buddha replied, ‘The nature of reality exists in equality.
Being connected to the nature of reality is called “the single prac-
tice concentration”. If you, sons and daughters of the noble ones,
want to enter the single practice concentration, you must first study
153
the perfection of wisdom, learning what the Buddha taught. Only

after that will you be capable of the single practice concentration.7
Stay connected in this way to the nature of reality. Without step-
ping away from it, or changing it at all, for it is beyond conceptu-
alization, free from obstructions and categories.
‘Sons and daughters of the noble ones, if you want to enter
the single practice concentration, you should remain quiet and
unmoving, and let go of the multitude of confused thoughts. Do
not grasp at appearances, focus your mind on a single buddha and
only recite his name. Then, with an upright posture, facing towards
the place where the buddha resides, stay constantly mindful of this
single buddha. In this state of mind, you will be able to see every
buddha of the past and future clearly manifest.
‘Why is this? The merits of mindfulness of a single buddha are
immeasurable and unbounded, and no different from the benefits
of all innumerable buddhas. This is one and the same as the
nonconceptual buddhadharma itself, bringing all the vehicles
together as one, the ultimate state of enlightenment to completion,
replete with uncountable merit and immeasurable discernment.
So, if you enter the single practice concentration then you
will know for certain that all buddhas, as numerous as the grains of
sand in the Ganges, are no different from the nature of reality
itself.’8
And so this very body and mind are always the site of awakening,
in every step you take.9 Whatever you do, wherever you go, it is all
awakening.
The Samantabhadra-dhayana sūtra says:
The whole ocean of karmic obstacles

Originates from conceptualization.
Anyone who wants to repent
Should begin by sitting in mindfulness of the nature of
things.10
D A OX I N I 155
This is what we call supreme repentance, which is being mindful of

the Buddha to eliminate the mentality of the three poisons, the
mentality of grasping, the mentality of making judgements.11 When
you are mindful of the Buddha continuously through every state of
mind, it will simply become clear and calm, and mindfulness will no
longer be based on perceptual objects.
It says in the Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra:
When you have mindfulness without an object,

This is called mindfulness of the Buddha.12
What does ‘mindfulness without an object’ mean? Mindfulness of the

Buddha is the same state of mind as that which we call ‘mindfulness
without an object’. There is no separate buddha distinct from the
mind, nor a separate mind distinct from the Buddha. So mindfulness
of the Buddha is the same as mindfulness of the mind, and seeking the
Buddha is the same as seeking the mind.
Why is this? Consciousness has no shape, and the Buddha has no
qualities.13 If you comprehend this principle, then you have peace of
mind. In constant mindfulness of the Buddha, grasping does not arise.
Then there is nondiscrimination free from categories, sameness free
from duality. When you reach this stage the mentality of recalling the
Buddha fades away, as it is no longer needed.
When we observe this state of mind, it is identical to the tathāgata’s
ultimate dharmakaya. It is also called the true dharma, the buddha
nature, the ultimate truth that is the nature of all phenomena, the
pure land. It is also called awakening, the vajra concentration, intrinsic
enlightenment, and so on. It has been given names like the realm of
nirvana, prajñā, and so on. Though these names are innumerable, they
all refer to the same thing. There is no object which is observed or mind
which observes. This state of mind needs to be kept clear, so that it is
always apparent and you cannot be distracted from it by the variety of
situations that arise.14
Why is this? The variety of situations are just the single dhar-
makaya of the tathāgata. Through this oneness of mind all the knots
of anxiety and irritation untangle themselves. A single particle contains
worlds beyond measure. And worlds beyond measure are assembled
on the tip of a single hair. Because all things have always been this way,
they never obstruct each other. As the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra says: ‘In a tiny
particle you can see everything in the universe.’15
Peace of mind
Cannot be summed up in words;
True understanding of it
Comes from your own heart.
***
For the sake of the younger ones who might be harbouring doubts,
Daoxin then took a question: ‘If the tathāgata’s dharmakaya is like this,
how is it that their bodies, endowed with all the excellent qualities of
a buddha, can appear in the world to teach the dharma?’16
Daoxin said –
It is precisely because the tathāgata’s dharmakaya is pure that it is
all-encompassing and manifests in everything. Yet the dharmakaya is
not guided by thought.17 Like a mirror made of sphat ̣ika crystal hung
in a high hall, everything is visible within it.18 The mirror has no mind
either, but is still capable of making a multitude of things visible.
The sutra says: ‘Tathāgatas appear in the world to preach the dharma
due to the conceptualization of sentient beings.’19 If you modern prac-
titioners cultivate the mind until it is completely pure, then you will
know that tathāgatas never teach the dharma. This is the real meaning
of learning – for those who truly learn, there are no categories at all.
As the sutra says:
The faculties of sentient beings are grasping by nature.

Because the types of grasping are innumerable,
D A OX I N I 157
I teach innumerable dharmas.

Because I teach innumerable dharmas,
There are also innumerable meanings.
Yet these innumerable meanings
Arise from a single teaching.
This single teaching
Is freedom from qualities.
This complete lack of qualities
Is what I call True Quality.20
Thus everything disappears into purity.
The truth of these words

Must be experienced directly.
When you sit, you will become aware of it.
Recognize the first movement of your mind,
Then follow its constantly evolving flow,
Its comings and goings,
Being aware of everything as a whole,
Examining it with vajra wisdom.
This is similar to the way grass and trees do not distinguish between
objects. Knowing the absence of knowing is what we call ‘being all
knowing’.21 This is how bodhisattvas teach sameness.22
Another question was asked: ‘What is a meditation master?’
Daoxin replied –
One who is unconcerned by either serenity or disturbance. That is
to say, a person who is good at applying the mind in meditation. If you
always stay in calmness (śamatha), your mind will become drowsy. If
you spend a long time practising insight meditation (vipaśyanā) your
mind will become distracted.
The buddhas themselves abide in the great vehicle,

As their attainment of the dharma:
Arrayed with the power of concentration and wisdom,

Dedicated to the liberation of sentient beings.23
Others asked: ‘How can we truly understand the nature of things so

that the mind becomes luminous and clear?’
Daoxin said –
Don’t be mindful of the Buddha;

Don’t control the mind;
Don’t examine the mind;
Don’t speculate about the mind;
Don’t deliberate;
Don’t practise analysis;
Don’t become distracted;
Just let it be.
Don’t try to get rid of it,
Don’t try to make it stay.
In solitude and peace, the mind will of itself become luminous and
clear. If you can carefully observe the mind in this way, the mind will
become luminous and clear, like a bright mirror. If you do this for one
year, the mind will be even more luminous and clear. If you do this for
three to five years, the mind will be yet more luminous and clear. This
can be brought about by somebody teaching you, or you may attain
liberation without ever having to be taught.
It is taught in the sutras that for sentient beings, the nature of mind is
like a precious pearl sunk beneath the water. When the water is dirty the
pearl is hidden; when the water is clear, the pearl can be seen.24 Because
sentient beings have slandered the three jewels and disrupted the
harmony of the sangha, everything they see is tainted with irritation and
distorted by desire, hatred and ignorance. They do not realize that the
nature of mind has always been pure from the beginning.25
Thus the way students attain this realization is not always the same,
and these differences are due to the fact that currently their inner
D A OX I N I 159
faculties and outer conditions are not the same. A person who wants
to be a teacher must be capable of recognizing these differences.
Among students there are four types of people:
• Those who practise and have understanding and experience are

the best.
• Those who don’t practise, yet do have understanding and experi-
ence are the upper middling type.
• Those who practise and have understanding, yet lack experience
are the lower middling type.
• Those who practise, yet lack understanding and experience are the
lowest type.
Another question was asked: ‘At this stage, should we practise

analytical meditation?’
Daoxin said – The only thing you need to do is let it be.26
And: ‘Should we practise facing the direction of the pure land in the
west?’
Daoxin said –
Once you know that mind, from the start, has never arisen or
ceased to be and is perfectly pure, and that it is identical with the pure
lands of the buddhas, there is no longer any need to face the pure land
in the west.
Immeasurable aeons exist in a single moment of thought,

And one thought lasts for immeasurable aeons.27
Know that in any one direction there are immeasurable directions,

and immeasurable directions are really one direction. When they
spoke of facing the pure land in the west it was for the sake of sentient
beings with dull faculties, and not for people with sharp faculties.
The Avatam
̣ saka sūtra says:
The physical qualities of Samantabhadra

Are like space.
Their location is in thusness,
Not in a buddha realm.28
This means that the buddha realm is completely present right now; it
is exactly the same as this realm but entirely free from clinging.29 The
Nirvān ̣a sūtra says, ‘Limitless is the body of the bodhisattva, a body
immeasurable as space’, and ‘Because their bodies shine with virtue,
they are like the summer sun.’ It also says, ‘Because their bodies are
limitless, this is called great nirvana’, and ‘This is the greatest kind of
nirvana because its nature is vast and wide.’30
***
Bodhisattvas at the stages of further progress engage with samsara in
order to transform and liberate sentient beings.31 Yet they do this
without clinging to intellectual views. If I hold the view that sentient
beings exist in samsara – that I am the one who can liberate them,
while they are powerless – I should not be called a bodhisattva.
Liberating sentient beings is like liberating emptiness: how could
emptiness be liberated when it has already come and gone?
The Vajracchedikā sūtra says: ‘As for the liberation of innummer-
able sentient beings – in truth, there are no sentient beings who
achieve liberation.’32 A bodhisattva of the first level begins with the
realization that everything is empty; later they come to the realization
that nothing is empty. This is the wisdom of nondiscrimination. It is
the same with form: form is emptiness, and it is not that form elimi-
nates emptiness; rather, the inherent nature of form is emptiness.
A bodhisattva’s cultivation of emptiness turns into realization.
New students have only an intellectual view of emptiness. This intel-
lectual view of emptiness is not true emptiness. Those who realize
true emptiness on the path of practice do not hold views about
D A OX I N I 161
emptiness or the lack of emptiness, or any other kind of view.33 Thus

it is important to understand exactly what ‘forms are empty’ really
means.34
For those who are studying how to apply the mind, the key point is
that the mind’s flow should be clear and luminous. They should be
aware of the qualities of phenomena in utter clarity and distinction.
Only then will they be qualified to teach others. In addition, their
outer behaviour should correspond with their inner state, and their
practice should not contradict their principles. They absolutely must
give up written and spoken words, which are the conditioned
phenomena of the noble path. Instead, staying in solitude, they should
realize for themselves the fruits of the path.35
There are also people who have yet to comprehend the ultimate
dharma, yet guide sentient beings for the sake of wealth and fame.
Failing to recognize the sharp and dull faculties of students and make
appropriate distinctions, they give their seal of approval far too easily.
This is very distressing!36 Some observe their students’ minds, and if
they seem to be luminous and clear, immediately give them the seal of
approval. These people are ruining the Buddha’s dharma, deceiving
themselves and others.
People who apply the mind all have their similarities and differ-
ences. Everyone has their own personality, but all of them have yet to
realize the mind. Those who have truly realized the mind have recog-
nized it clearly for themselves. In the future, they will open the eyes of
the dharma themselves and be able to see how their own good
students are different from the empty counterfeits.37
Some people believe that the body is empty in the sense of not
existing and that the nature of mind is mere nothingness. These
people are nihilists, no different from those who follow non-Buddhist
paths. They are not followers of the Buddha. Some people believe that
the mind exists in the sense of never coming to an end. These people
are eternalists who are also just like the followers of non-Buddhist
paths. Now, the intelligent disciples of the Buddha do not believe that
the nature of mind is existent or nonexistent.38
Always liberating sentient beings,

Without clinging to views.
Always acquiring wisdom,
In the sameness of wisdom and ignorance.
Always in the state of meditation,
Without the duality of stillness and wildness.
Always perceiving sentient beings,
Without reifying their existence.39
Manifesting their bodies everywhere,
Yet showing that they have never truly existed.
Not seeing or hearing anything,
Yet aware of everything,
Without grasping or rejecting.
Never dividing their bodies,
Yet pervading the nature of reality.
Furthermore, wise and compassionate meditation masters of earlier

times taught that when we are learning the dharma path, under-
standing and practice need to support each other.40 First you recog-
nize the mind’s source, its essential nature and manifold activities,
seeing appearances clearly and without confusion.41 After this, you
will be able to accomplish great things. If this one thing is understood,
a thousand others will follow. But if you are mistaken about this one
thing, ten thousand delusions will follow. Lose it by a hair’s breadth,
and you will go astray by a mile. These are not empty words!
The Larger Sukhāvatīvyūha sūtra says:
The dharmakaya of all buddhas

Is present in the mental activities
Of all sentient beings;
This mind makes the buddha.42
Know then that ‘buddha’ is identical with ‘mind’. Aside from the
mind, there is no buddha.
D A OX I N I 163
***
Briefly, there are five general types of meditation:43
• The first is to recognize mind’s essence. This essence is naturally

clear and pure, and this essence is the same as the buddha.
• The second is to recognize mind’s activity. This activity gives birth
to the jewel of the dharma, and is the manifest aspect of constant
stillness, found within all the myriad delusions.
• The third is to be always aware without interruption. Awareness
manifests as the mind, yet the phenomena of awareness cannot be
categorized.44
• The fourth is to see the physical body as empty. Inner and outer
are interdependent, and the body is at the very centre of the
phenomenal realm, without the least obstruction.
• The fifth is to maintain oneness without wavering, throughout
both stillness and movement.45 This allows the practitioner to see
the buddha nature clearly and enter the gate of concentration
quickly.
The sutras contain all of these types of meditation. Fu Dashi’s teach-

ings recommend just maintaining oneness without wavering, but one
should begin with practice and close observation, taking the body as
the basis for analysis, as follows.46
This body is composed of four elements and five aggregates. In the
end, it is impermanent, and it cannot be autonomous. Even while it
has not yet perished it is ultimately empty. The Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa
sūtra says: ‘This body is like drifting clouds that change and disappear
in moments.’47
Next, constantly perceive your own body in this way: it is empty
and clear like a reflection; it can be seen, but not grasped. Wisdom is
born in the midst of reflections; ultimately it has no location. It never
moves, yet it responds to the needs of beings, manifesting without
limitation.48 The six senses come into being within emptiness. They
are completely empty themselves, facing the six kinds of object, which
should be understood as dreams and illusions. When the eye sees an
object, that object is not located in the eye.
Just as a mirror reflects the image of a face with the greatest clarity,
forms manifest within emptiness like reflections. There is not a single
object in the mirror itself; we know that a person’s actual face does not
go into the mirror, nor does the mirror enter a person’s face. Analysing
in detail like this, we can see that the face in the mirror has never
entered or departed, never come or gone. This is the meaning of
tathāgata.49
This kind of analysis shows that the eye, like the mirror, is and has
always been empty. The reflection in the mirror and the reflection in
the eye are the same. So, using this as a point of comparison, smell,
taste and all the other faculties are the same. If you know that the eye
is fundamentally empty, then for all forms the eye sees, you will know
them to be the objectification of form. When your ears hear sounds,
you will know them to be the objectification of sound. When your
nose detects smells, you will know them to be the objectification of
smell. When the tongue distinguishes tastes, you will know them
to be the objectification of taste. When the intellect responds to
phenomena, you will know them to be the objectification of
phenomena. When the body receives sensations, you will know them
to be the objectification of sensation.50
To examine knowledge in this way is to meditate on emptiness and
stillness:
• When you see forms, you know that those forms cannot be
grasped.
• The forms that cannot be grasped are just emptiness.
• Emptiness is the nonexistence of categories.
• This nonexistence of categories is not something contrived.
Seeing this is the gate to liberation. When students attain liberation,

all of their sense faculties are like this. To put it another way, they are
D A OX I N I 165
always mindful of the emptiness of the six faculties. In this sense there
is no hearing or seeing. As the Sutra of the Deathbed Injunction says: ‘At
the hour of midnight, silence is undisturbed.’51 This means that the
tathāgatas teach the dharma by means of emptiness, and to be
constantly mindful of the emptiness of the six faculties is to be always
like the night. What you see and hear in the daytime are things
external to your body.
That was the emptiness and purity of the body. Now for main-
taining oneness without wavering.52 With this pure and empty vision,
concentrate your attention on a single object without concern for the
passing of time. Continue to focus your energy without moving. If
your mind wants to wander off, quickly take it in hand and gather it
back, again and again, like using a string attached to a bird’s foot to pull
it back and catch it when it wants to fly away. Finally, after spending a
day in uninterrupted attentiveness, you can stop and the mind will
settle on its own.
As the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa sūtra says:
Gathering the mind is the site of enlightenment itself;

This is the dharma of gathering the mind.53
And the Lotus Sutra says:
For incalculable aeons he tirelessly and continually gathered his

mind. Because of this achievement he could generate all the levels
of meditative concentration.54
The Sutra of the Deathbed Injunction says:
The mind is the master of the five faculties. Once you capture this
territory, there is nothing else to do, no more to be accomplished.55
This is exactly it. These teachings on the five types of meditation

are also the true principle of the great vehicle. They are all based on
what is said in the sutras, not on mistaken non-Buddhist teachings.

This is uncontaminated activity, the ultimate truth itself.56 Going
beyond the stage of a hearer, this is the real destination of the
bodhisattva’s path.
***
Listeners, do your practice properly and without even a moment of
doubt!57 Be like a person learning to shoot an arrow. They begin with
a large target, then aim at a small target, then aim at a large circle, then
aim at a small circle, then aim at a single piece of twine, then split the
piece of twine into a hundred threads and aim at one of the hundred
threads. Then they shoot their arrow into the previous one so that the
arrow is fixed in the nock, preventing both arrows from falling.
This is a metaphor for a person learning the path. As the stream of
consciousness flows through the mind, every moment of mind is
continuous, without the briefest interval. True mindfulness is uninter-
rupted – true mindfulness is always there.58 As it says in the sutras:
‘Using the arrows of wisdom, shoot at the nocks of the arrows that are
the three gates of liberation, so that each arrow is fixed in the nock of
the other without falling to the ground.’59
It is also like rubbing sticks together to make a fire; there will be no
heat if you stop, and however much you want to make a fire it will be
difficult to achieve. It is also like the family that possessed a wish-
fulfilling jewel and received whatever they wanted from it. One day
they lost it, and after that there was never a moment when they didn’t
remember what it was like before they lost it. It is also like a person
with a poison arrow in their flesh. When the shaft has been pulled out
but the arrowhead remains embedded, they undergo agonizing pain.
They cannot forget about it even for a moment; recollection is
constantly in their mind. The way you practise should be like this.
The secret essence of the dharma is not transmitted to those who
are not meant to hear it. It is not that we are stingy with the transmis-
sion of the dharma. We are just apprehensive that such people will
have no conviction and will fall into the trap of slandering the dharma.
D A OX I N I 167
We must choose people who will not teach the dharma as soon as they
have got hold of it.
Take heed! Though the ocean of dharma may be immeasurable, it
can be crossed with a single teaching.60 Once you have grasped the
intention, the teaching can be forgotten, for even a single teaching is
of no use any more.61 Attaining final realization is the same thing as
grasping the Buddha’s intention.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAOXIN II
Teachings for Beginners
There is a colourful story about Daoxin that gives us the sense that he
was known for just sitting, without engaging in other practices that
would take him from place to place. The story is from the Genealogy
of the Dharma Jewel and occurs late in Daoxin’s life, in the year 643
when he had been living at his monastery on Shuangfeng Mountain
for many years. The emperor Wenwu sent a messenger to the moun-
tain to invite Daoxin for an audience at court. Daoxin refused, pleading
old age, but the emperor sent the messenger back to insist on Daoxin
travelling to the court. Daoxin refused again, sending a message back
to the emperor: ‘If you want my head, you are welcome to behead me
and take it, but I will not go.’
Undeterred, the emperor sent his messenger back with the sword,
telling him to threaten Daoxin but not to hurt him. Upon seeing the
sword, Daoxin still refused to obey the emperor’s summons, and
extended his neck to the messenger, saying, ‘Chop it off and take it!’
The messenger then had to admit that he had been told not to harm
Daoxin, who laughed and replied, ‘I’ve taught you to recognize someone
who stays put!’1 In this story ‘someone who stays put’ suggests more
than mere stubbornness; it implies the resolve and stability of someone
who spends their time in meditation.2
As we have seen, most of Daoxin’s teachings in the Masters of the
Lanka are from a text called Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts, which
was translated in the previous chapter. The rest of the Daoxin section,
which is translated here, contains his instructions for novices and other
miscellaneous teachings. The word ‘novices’ – literally ‘those who have
168
D A OX I N I I 169
entered the path’ (rùdào) – indicates that these are teachings for newly
ordained monastics.
While Daoxin’s Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts is presented as
a sermon given in the context of the ceremony for bestowing the vows
of a bodhisattva, which may have been attended by lay Buddhists as
well as monastics, the teachings for novices may have been written
down in his monastery on Shuangfeng Mountain, and circulated
among his students.
The teachings for novices are followed by advice on meditating
during the process of death, some critical comments on the Daoist
classics Daodejing and Zhuangzi, and a few lines on the idea that
nonliving things have a buddha nature. As we have seen, other chap-
ters in the Masters of the Lanka seem to have grown with additional
material added at the end of the chapter in the process of manuscript
transmission. We do not have the earlier, Tibetan translation to
compare here, because that version does not extend this far into the
text; however, it seems plausible that some of this material, particu-
larly the comments on Daoism and the lines on the buddha nature, are
similarly later additions.
The meditation instructions for novices begin with the phrase,
‘When you are beginning the practice of sitting meditation . . .’ and end
with, ‘the above are the skilful means for novices’. In this text, Daoxin
outlines two meditation methods, both of which he has already taught
in the Dharma Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts. The first medita-
tion technique is the classic twofold Buddhist meditation practice of
insight meditation (vipaśyanā) and calmness (śamatha). This begins
with sitting and thinking about the nature of one’s body and sensa-
tions. The resulting realization is that ‘upon examination, they are
simply stillness, pure and free from the very beginning’.
Daoxin teaches that the realization of the emptiness of the body is
the true form of repentance:
Then you will realize that your own body, for past immeasurable
aeons, has ultimately never been born, and in the future there is
ultimately no person who dies. To be able to carry out this observa-

tion at all times is the true practice of repentance.
This echoes his earlier statement in Methods for the Bodhisattva

Precepts that mindfulness is ‘the supreme repentance’. Fortnightly
repentance ceremonies, for alleviating the negative karmic effects of
one’s past actions, are a part of life in most Buddhist monasteries
and nunneries. As I discussed in chapter 3 above, these ceremonies
often involved meditation, and the visions that arose in meditation
could be taken as indications of the nature of one’s past karma. In
Daoxin’s teaching, rather than meditation being part of the repentance
ritual, the realization that comes from meditation is the true form of
repentance.
The second meditation technique that Daoxin explains in his
instructions for novices is ‘observing the mind’. Again, this is a
condensed version of the teachings on the same practice in the
Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts. One thing that Daoxin explains
in more detail is how to actually assume the meditation posture
and breathing – indeed, these are the most detailed instructions in
early Zen:
To begin, sit with your body upright, in comfortable clothes

without a belt. Relax your body and loosen your arms and legs by
rubbing them seven or eight times. Allow your mind to come to
rest in your abdomen, and let your breath out completely.
This is clearly an instruction on breathing from the abdomen, in

which one’s concentration is moved down to that point in the body
(called fú in Chinese, hara in Japanese). Breathing in and out of the
abdomen, and allowing one’s consciousness to descend to that point
in the body, is taught by modern Zen teachers, as well as in other
contemplative, martial arts and medical traditions.3 In one of the most
popular twentieth-century books on Zen meditation, Zen Mind,
Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki gives this instruction:
D A OX I N I I 171
Also to gain strength in your posture, press your diaphragm down

towards your hara, or lower abdomen. This will help you maintain
your physical and mental balance. When you try to keep this
posture, at first you may find some difficulty breathing naturally,
but when you get accustomed to it you will be able to breathe natu-
rally and deeply.4
Examples are to be found in the earlier Japanese tradition as well;

for example, the influential masters Dogen and Hakuin both gave
instructions on breathing from the abdomen.5 However, the fact that
this practice was also taught much earlier, here in the Masters of the
Lanka, seems to have been missed. In Daoxin’s teaching abdominal
breathing leads to a calm and and lucid state, ‘with body and mind in
harmony’. Once they have achieved this peace, the meditator is able to
‘turn the mind within’, meaning to turn the mind away from external
objects to rest in awareness of itself.6
Similar instructions on observing the mind are found in a work by
another early Zen teacher, Wolun. His Dharma of Observing the Mind
has been studied by Carmen Meinert, who describes the technique
taught there:
The inner, the nature of mind, is described as clear like empty

space and without arising and ceasing, whereas mind is discursive
on the outside. Whenever thoughts arise in the mind, the practi-
tioner is asked to immediately turn to the inside of mind.7
We can see this as an instruction to observe thoughts themselves,

rather than be guided by thoughts towards their objects, which is the
usual mental process leading to distraction and submergence in the
constant production of thoughts. The result of this is that ‘the spir-
itual path will become clear and sharp, the mind’s ground pure and
luminous’. The mind’s ground is the fundamental level of mind,
known in Indian Yogācāra texts as the ālaya-vijñāna.8 In Yogācāra,
meditation practice leads to a transformation of the basis, from its
usual function as the source of deluded awareness to its proper func-

tion as the source of enlightened awareness. Thus the practice is to
realize that the external world consists of the manifestations of mind
through the senses, and to trace these manifestations back to their
source, the pure and luminous basic consciousness.
After the instructions for novices, there is another brief text of
meditation instructions, this time for the process of dying. The prac-
tice for this process is to settle the mind, to become ‘absorbed in the
pure sky-like mind’. At the moment of death, the meditator will ‘abide
in the clarity of the dharmakaya and will not undergo another life-
time’. However, if this mindfulness is lost at any point, the process of
rebirth and new life will start again.
Buddhist discussions of the process of death are best known from
Tibetan literature, especially the ‘Tibetan Book of the Dead’. These
works describe the whole process in much greater detail, but they do
share a significant feature with Daoxin’s description: the vision of a
clear light that is equivalent to the dharmakaya as the first manifesta-
tion of entering the state between death and the next rebirth, and the
idea that if the consciousness of the dying person becomes distracted
from nondual absorption in this clarity, they will go on to the next
process of the intermediate state, leading to rebirth.
The Tibetan meditation teachings of Dzogchen, ‘the great perfec-
tion’, put particular emphasis on recognizing this light at the moment
of death; as Bryan Cuevas has written, in Dzogchen ‘emphasis was on
the clear light as equivalent to the primordial ground’s original pure
radiance’.9 Furthermore, in Dzogchen, meditators are taught to recog-
nize this light as the dharmakaya at the moment of death. These simi-
larities between Daoxin’s brief instructions on dying and those in the
later Tibetan tradition are intriguing.
The idea of an intermediate state between death and rebirth was
discussed in the abhidharma literature of the Sarvāstivādins, and
descriptions of the experience of dying appear in some sutras.
However, as Stephen Eskilden has pointed out, techniques for actively
directing one’s experience of death seem to be found only in the
D A OX I N I I 173
Chinese and Tibetan traditions.10 Perhaps they both grew from Indian
Buddhist oral teachings on meditation techniques for the dying.
In any case, Daoxin’s instructions on dying are one of the earliest
examples of this practice in Chinese Buddhism, though there are also
Daoist texts containing instructions for dying which may be just as
early. Later, the techniques for navigating the process of dying
continued to be developed by Daoists, who often attributed the
origins of the practice to Bodhidharma.11
The instructions on dying for meditators conclude Daoxin’s medi-
tation teachings in this chapter. They are followed by some comments
on Daoist texts. Daoxin does occasionally borrow phrases from Daoist
literature, and seems to have been especially fond of the Zhuangzi, a
book of teachings attributed to the sage of the same name, who lived
in the third century bc. The Zhuangzi is a complex text, probably
formed over centuries. It is difficult to sum up, but many chapters
(including the one quoted here by Daoxin) present us with arguments
suggesting that our concepts and judgements are merely conventions,
relative and not absolute.
At times, the Zhuangzi sounds very like a Zen teaching. Perhaps the
greatest difference is that in Zhuangzi the ultimate truth is oneness,
whereas for many Zen teachers, the ultimate truth is emptiness. It is
this idea of oneness that Daoxin criticizes here, quoting the cryptic
lines:
Heaven and earth are one finger.

All things are one horse.
Here is the full passage from the Zhuangzi:
To use this finger to show how a finger is not a finger is no match

for using not-this finger to show how a finger is not a finger. To use
this horse to show that a horse is not a horse is no match for using
not-this-horse to show that a horse is not a horse. Heaven and earth
are one finger. All things are one horse.12
This doesn’t help much, but the following passage makes it clearer:
Something is affirmative because someone affirms it. Something is

negative because someone negates it. Courses are formed by
someone walking them. Things are so by being called so.13
In other words, our logic is merely conventional; even the linguistic

distinctions between a horse and what is not a horse only apply
because we apply them. Ultimately horse and not-horse depend on
each other and are one and the same thing. Daoxin then quotes from
a Buddhist sutra to show the limitations of Zhuangzi, picking up on
the idea of oneness:
‘One’ does not just mean the number one;

It implies a refutation of phenomena being many.
To be honest, it is hard to see how this passage can be used to criticize

the Zhuangzi; the oneness of the Zhuangzi is very much ‘a refutation
of phenomena being many’. Nevertheless, Daoxin’s criticism that
Zhuangzi gets ‘stuck’ at the idea of oneness does have a point, as his
text does not deconstruct the concept of oneness itself, which a
Buddhist would.
Daoxin then turns to the Daodejing, the early Daoist classic attrib-
uted to the sage Laozi, which needs no introduction here. Daoxin
quotes these lines:
So subtle! So profound!
Its essence is within.
In criticizing these words, Daoxin quotes from two sutras stating that
the duality between internal and external is false. He accuses Laozi of
doing away with the category of the external but keeping the idea of
an internal essence. This criticism comes from the point of view of the
classic Indian Yogācāra texts, such as those of Vasubandhu, in which it
D A OX I N I I 175
is often said that the true nature of consciousness is nondual, without

internal or external elements.14
Whether these criticisms are fair or not, they position Daoxin as a
true Mahayana Buddhist by rejecting the emphasis in the Zhuangzi on
oneness, and the privileging of the internal in the Daodejing. The final
lines of the chapter seem to have little bearing on this, and go off on
another tangent instead – the idea that the buddha nature resides in all
things, not just sentient beings. This ties in with the teachings of
Hongren in the next chapter, so we will consider it there.
Chapter Five
(Continued)
Instructions for Novices

When you are beginning the practice of sitting meditation, you should
stay in a quiet place and closely observe your own body and mind.
Observe and examine the four elements and five aggregates, the senses
of sight, smell, taste, touch and intellect, up to greed, anger and ignorance
– whether bad or good, hated or loved, ordinary or sacred – through to
each and every aspect of existence. They are empty from the very begin-
ning, neither coming into being nor passing away. In their sameness and
nonduality, they have never had a defining feature. Upon examination,
they are simply stillness, pure and free from the very beginning.
Don’t ask whether it is day or night – just continue with this obser-
vation, whether you are walking, standing, sitting or lying down. You
will come to realize that your own body is like the reflection of the
moon in water, like the image in a mirror, like the heat of a fire, like an
echo in an empty valley. If you say it is existent, why do you not see it
when you search for it everywhere? If you say it is nonexistent, why
does it appear with constant clarity before your eyes? The dharmakaya
of all the buddhas is also like this.
Then you will realize that your own body, for past immeasurable
aeons, has ultimately never been born, and in the future there is ulti-
mately no person who dies. To be able to carry out this observation at
all times is the true practice of repentance.15 Millions of aeons’ accu-
mulation of the most serious karma soon vanishes on its own. This
practice is only to remove doubt and confusion; it cannot give rise
to conviction in people who are unable to truly grasp it. On the
176
D A OX I N I I 177
other hand, those sentient beings who do have the conviction to rely
on this practice will always be able to enter into the uncreated true
principle.
Next, when mental apprehension of external objects arises, observe
it at the point of arising.16 Ultimately it does not arise, for when this
mental apprehension appears, it does not come from any direction, or
arrive anywhere. Constantly observe how objects are apprehended,
using your awareness to observe deluded consciousness, perception
and distracted thoughts.17 When mental disturbance ceases you will
have attained basic stability. If you attain mental stability you will no
longer anxiously dwell upon objects.
Then, depending on your ability in calmness meditation, you will
attain the cessation of all emotional afflictions, and not create any new
ones. This is known as liberation through observation. The mental
shackles of unhappiness, turmoil and depression will then disappear
by themselves, slowly, slowly, settling into peacefulness. When you
give it the opportunity mind becomes peaceful and clear all by itself.
Yet one must have a sense of urgency, as if saving someone whose hair
is on fire. Don’t become complacent – keep striving!
***
When you begin sitting in meditation to observe the mind, sit on your
own in a single place. To begin, sit with your body upright, in comfort-
able clothes without a belt. Relax your body and loosen your arms and
legs by rubbing them seven or eight times. Allow your mind to come
to rest in your abdomen, and let your breath out completely.18 You will
suddenly realize your nature to be pure and lucid, calm and clear, with
body and mind in harmony.
Then as you pacify mind and spirit, subtle and profound, with
calm, refreshing breathing, gradually turn the mind within.19 The
spiritual path will become clear and sharp, the mind’s ground pure
and luminous. When you examine this luminosity, you find that
both internal and external are empty and pure. This is mind’s natural
stillness.
This stillness is the manifestation of the Buddha’s mind itself. Though

it is formless in nature, it always has purity of intention. This spiritual
energy is never exhausted; it is always present in its bright clarity.20 This
is what we call the buddha nature. Those who can see the buddha nature
are for ever free from samsara, and their fame transcends that of worldly
people. So when the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa sūtra speaks of ‘suddenly re-
acquiring your original mind’, it speaks the truth.21
A person who has realized the buddha nature is known as a
bodhisattva. He or she is also called a person who has realized the
path, a person with understanding, and a person who has actualized
the buddha nature. So, as it says in the sutra: ‘This single phrase has a
profound energy which is not depleted over an aeon.’22 Novices who
practise these skilful means should remember that all the skilful means
taught on the path are joined in the mind of the Noble Ones.
Instructions on dying
Now, a summary of the dharma of giving up the body.23 First settle the
mind in complete emptiness. Let your mind and its objects become
tranquil. Let your perceptions melt into deep quietude. Don’t let your
mind move about, and settle into the tranquillity of mind’s nature,
without the apprehension of objects, subtle and profound, absorbed
in the pure sky-like mind, in peaceful, settled equanimity. When you
pass away, at your last breath, you should abide in the clarity of the
dharmakaya and will not undergo another lifetime. But if you give rise
to thought and lose your mindfulness, you will not avoid undergoing
rebirth, as previously determined by your mental attitude.24
‘The dharma should be like this’ – that is how the dharma is
created.25 Yet the dharma is originally non-dharma. Only dharma that
is not dharma can be called ‘dharma’. Thus the dharma cannot be
created. The true dharma jewel is the dharma which has never been
created. That is why the sutra says: ‘Empty without formulation,
without aspiration, without qualities.’26 This is true liberation, and
this is the reason that the real dharma cannot be created. What I call
‘the dharma of giving up the body’ is a metaphor for the observation
D A OX I N I I 179
of the mind and its objects based on the body.27 The level of illumina-
tion means using your luminous energy to decide your own fate.28
Miscellaneous teachings
The great master said –
Zhuangzi taught:
Heaven and earth are one finger.

All things are one horse.
But the Dharmapada sūtra says:
‘One’ does not just mean the number one;

The intention is the refutation of all numbers.
Only students of shallow intellect
Mean the number one when they say ‘one’.29
Thus Zhuangzi seems to be stuck at the idea of ‘one’.
Laozi said:
So subtle! So profound!
Its essence is within.
Here, even though there are no categories outside, the mind is still
̣ saka sūtra says:30
preserved within. The Avatam
Do not be attached to dualistic entities,

As there is neither singularity nor duality.
And the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa sūtra corroborates this by saying:
Mind does not exist internally or externally,

Nor anywhere in between.31
When we understand this, we can see that Laozi is stuck at the idea of
the existence of an essential awareness.
***
The Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra says: ‘All sentient beings have the buddha
nature.’32 How could we teach that walls, tiles and stones do not lack
the buddha nature? How could they teach the dharma? Moreover,
Vasubandhu writes in his commentary: ‘The physical manifestation of
the buddha is not the true buddha and does not teach the dharma.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HONGREN
The Buddha in Everything
With Hongren, Zen comes of age. Many of his students went on to

become famous meditation teachers in their own right, and his medi-
tation centre on East Mountain gave its name to a whole tradition of
teaching. According to all the early histories, Hongren first travelled to
study with Daoxin on Shuangfeng Mountain. After he had been
authorized by Daoxin to teach meditation, he moved to Mount
Fengmao, which was to the east of Shuangfeng, and therefore known
as East Mountain. There he established his residence, and over the
years attracted many students who travelled to East Mountain to
receive his teachings.
After Hongren’s death, his residence on East Mountain was turned
into a monastery. However, his most famous students did not stay
on the mountain – they travelled, taking the ‘East Mountain tradition’
of teaching meditation across China. In the Masters of the Lanka,
Hongren is a quintessential meditation teacher. He lives in a secluded
retreat, where he teaches orally, but never commits words to writing.
His teaching style is pithy, sometimes puzzling, sometimes
approaching the style of the koan.
According to the Masters of the Lanka, Hongren never wrote a
book, yet there is a text attributed to him in some Dunhuang manu-
scripts: Treatise on the Essentials of Cultivating the Mind.1 John McRae
argues that this is a genuine record of Hongren’s teachings by his
students. He also shows that while the Treatise on the Essentials of
Cultivating the Mind is not quoted in the Hongren section of the
Masters of the Lanka, parts of it do appear in the chapters on
181
Gun ̣abhadra and Huike. Therefore he believes that Hongren’s work

was plagiarized for these earlier sections.2
I would agree with McRae that Jingjue (or whoever compiled the
Masters of the Lanka) probably did struggle to find meditation teach-
ings firmly attributed to these two figures. However, to state, as
McRae did, that Jingjue plagiarized Hongren’s work (while at the
same time denying that Hongren ever wrote anything) is odd. As I
have argued earlier, plagiarism is a very modern idea, entirely out of
place in a pre-modern manuscript culture (whether in China or
anywhere else in the world).
What’s more, just because one manuscript attributes the Treatise on
the Essentials of Cultivating the Mind to Hongren does not mean that
this was generally accepted. When we work directly with the manu-
scripts, we see how often attribution of a text can change. This is a
well-known feature of Chinese bibliography, as Endymion Wilkinson
has written: ‘A problem encountered throughout Chinese history is
the use of more than one title for the same book, caused in the early
days by the fact that books circulated as manuscripts in different
versions with no fixed title or author.’3 We are lucky enough to have
access to one group of local manuscripts, preserved by chance in the
Dunhuang cave; in other communities, now lost to us, some of the
same texts will undoubtedly have been attributed to different authors.
In any case, it is worth looking at the Treatise on the Essentials of
Cultivating the Mind as a compendium of teachings that some at least
considered to be by Hongren. The text is a series of questions and
answers between an unnamed teacher and student. It is quite long,
but has a simple message: the true nature of mind is present in all
living beings, but temporarily obscured, like the sun when it is hidden
by the clouds. It is always present, but we are not aware of it. There is
no buddha apart from one’s own mind, and to be a buddha is just to
be always aware of the true nature of mind.
The practice taught in the Treatise on the Essentials of Cultivating the
Mind is to recognize the inherent purity of one’s own mind, and then
to maintain that awareness. This is the essence of meditation, but it is
HONGREN 183
an advanced practice; the text also teaches a preliminary practice for

beginners, to calm the mind by sitting and visualizing the sun in the
distance:
Sit properly with the body erect, closing the eyes and mouth.
Look straight ahead with the mind, visualizing a sun at an appro-
priate distance away. Maintain this image continuously without
stopping.4
Here we have a classic Buddhist meditation technique, in which the

focus of concentration is a visualized image of light. Once beginners
have learned to calm their minds through this practice, they can do
the main practice, which is described thus:
Make your body and mind pure and peaceful, without any discrim-
inative thinking at all. Sit properly with the body erect. Regulate
the breath and concentrate the mind so it is not within you, not
outside you, and not in any intermediate location. Do this carefully
and naturally. View your own consciousness tranquilly and atten-
tively, so that you can see how it is always moving, like flowing
water or a glittering mirage. After you have perceived this conscious-
ness, simply continue to view it gently and naturally.5
These instructions for meditation fit the third type of meditation in

Daoxin’s fivefold scheme, ‘to be always aware’. They also look very
much like his practice of ‘observing the mind’. A practice like this
could well have been taught by Hongren, or indeed many other medi-
tation teachers of his generation and later.
***
Turning to Hongren’s meditation teachings as presented in the Masters
of the Lanka, there are two main types: a visualization practice taking
the syllable ‘a’ as the focus of meditation, and the use of difficult ques-
tions, especially ‘What is this?’
The visualization instruction is as follows:
When you sit, let your face relax and sit with your head and body
straight. Calmly let go of your body and mind. Resting in empti-
ness, visualize the single syllable.
The ‘single syllable’ is a term most commonly found in tantric practice

literature, occurring in a number of esoteric texts in the Chinese canon.
It is not common elsewhere, though in later Zen texts, the ‘key phrase’
of koan practice is sometimes spoken of in similar terms. In Hongren’s
meditation teachings this is not a koan practice; it is a visualization
practice. In the esoteric tradition, the syllable that is visualized is
usually the syllable a, the first letter of the Sanskrit alphabet.6
The visualization of the single syllable is only the first part of the
practice, which expands into a vast and spacious visualization in
which the meditator imagines him or herself on top of a mountain:
After you have mastered this, when you are sitting, imagine that you
are in the wilderness. In the middle there is a solitary mountain. You
are sitting on the barren ground on top of the mountain, looking in
the four directions, seeing far into the distance, without barriers or
boundaries. As you sit, you fill the whole world, completely relaxing
your body and mind, abiding in the realm of the buddhas.
This striking visualization is not just intended to generate a sense of

spaciousness and clarity; as Hongren says, in this imagined state of
‘filling the whole world’ one is already in the realm of the buddhas.
There is an echo of this practice in Hongren’s last words, as recorded
in the Masters of the Lanka: ‘The great master then raised his hand and
gestured towards the ten directions, each time stating that the realized
mind was already there.’
This practice can be seen as exemplifying the Yogācāra position
that the distinction between internal senses and external objects is a
false one; one’s mind always reaches as far as one can see. There is also
HONGREN 185
a similarity between Hongren’s teaching here and Daoxin’s instruc-

tions on seeing one’s own body as that of a buddha:
It is empty and clear like a reflection; it can be seen, but not

grasped. Wisdom is born in the midst of reflections; ultimately it
has no location. It never moves, yet it responds to the needs of
beings, manifesting without limitation.
We can also compare Daoxin’s teachings on dying, during which one

should be ‘absorbed in the pure sky-like mind’.
***
This chapter on Hongren ends with a series of questions. Though they
may seem unrelated, a theme emerges from them: the presence of the
buddha nature in everything. The classic idea of the buddha nature is
that the potential for enlightenment exists in all sentient beings, whether
human or otherwise. In China, this idea was extended to nonsentient
living things such as grass and trees, and even inanimate objects such as
rocks. Discussions about this were common in the eighth century.7
In the Masters of the Lanka, the idea first comes up in the teachings
of Gun ̣abhadra, who almost certainly did not teach the buddha nature
of things, and here in the teachings of Hongren, who might have. But
whoever originally gave these teachings, they come together in a
consistent message: ordinary things have the buddha nature, and they
can be our teachers.
Aren’t earth, wood, tile and stone also able to sit in meditation?
Can’t wood, tile and stone also see forms and hear sounds, wear a
robe and carry a bowl? When the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra talks about ‘the
dharmakaya of the realm of objects’, this is what it means.
This passage approaches the idea of the buddha nature in inanimate

objects in a different way. With a series of questions which are not
meant to be answered in any conventional way, Hongren asks why we
consider inanimate objects to be nonsentient. Can’t they also wear a

robe and sit in meditation?
The key is the quote from the Laṅkāvatāra: ‘The objects of percep-
tion are the dharmakaya.’ This means that, in the state of meditative
awareness, one does not see the objects of perception as external.
Everything one sees is merely one’s own mind, and this mind is inher-
ently luminous and pure: the dharmakaya itself. From this perspective
there is absolutely no difference between any ordinary thing and a
buddha, as Hongren tells his students:
A buddha possesses thirty-two qualities. Doesn’t a jug also have

these thirty-two qualities? Doesn’t a pillar also have these thirty-two
qualities? And how about earth, wood, tile and stone: don’t they
also have these thirty-two qualities?
So things have a buddha nature, and the nature of a buddha is to

liberate sentient beings from suffering. Can this be true of things as
well? According to statements attributed to Gun ̣abhadra, things defi-
nitely can teach the dharma:
Things too, like the leaves on this tree, can teach the dharma. This
pillar can teach the dharma. The roof can teach the dharma. Earth,
water, fire and wind can all teach the dharma. Earth, wood, tile and
stone can also teach the dharma.
The idea of things teaching the dharma did not come out of nowhere.
In the sutras of Amitabha, the sources of the pure land visualization
practices taught by Daoxin and others, it is said that in Amitabha’s
pure land, the songs of birds teach the dharma and the sounds of trees
bring about mindfulness of the Buddha.8 As we have seen in Daoxin’s
teachings, the pure land is present here and now when we realize the
true nature of our mind.
At the end of Daoxin’s chapter, there is a specific argument for how
things teach the dharma. He quotes from Vasubandhu’s commentary
HONGREN 187
on the Diamond Sutra: ‘The physical manifestation of the buddha is

not the true buddha and does not teach the dharma.’9 The second part
of Vasubandhu’s answer, which is not quoted, is: ‘Teach the dharma
without clinging to subject and object; do not teach the linguistic
distinction of categories.’
So what is the argument here? Rather than trying to intellectually
justify the idea of things teaching the dharma, the very idea of
teaching the dharma is challenged. How? Because the true sense of
‘teaching the dharma’ is not a dualistic activity carried out by the
physical manifestation of the buddha. It is the communication of
nonduality, the absence of subject and object. Therefore ‘teaching the
dharma’ is no more applicable to buddhas than it is to walls, tiles and
stones. But when nonduality is understood, everything has the poten-
tial to teach the dharma.10
Chapter Six
In the Tang dynasty, at the Youju Monastery on Shuangfeng Mountain,

Jizhou, the great master whose personal name was Hongren, became
the successor to the meditation master Daoxin.11 He was patient in his
work of transmitting the dharma and his sublime dharma became
famous, known at the time as the pure tradition of East Mountain.12 It
was praised by both monastics and laypeople in the capital city of
Luoyang, due to the abundance of people who attained the result
at East Mountain in Jizhou thanks to the East Mountain teaching
tradition.
People asked Hongren, ‘Why don’t your students gather in cities or
towns? Do you really need to be mountain dwellers?’
He replied: ‘The timber for large buildings is sourced from secluded
valleys, not from inhabited places. It is only because the trees are far
from human beings that they have not been carved with knives or
chopped down with axes. Left alone, they are able to reach their full
growth over a long time till they are suitable for use as ridgepoles and
rafters.13 That’s the reason we live in secluded valleys far from the
noise and pollution, cultivating ourselves among the mountains,
always staying far away from worldly business. With no objects before
the eyes, mind becomes steady and peaceful on its own. As we follow
this path, the blossoms bloom on the trees and the forest of medita-
tion bursts into fruit.’
This great master, Hongren, sat quietly in meditation and did not
produce any books, only giving people oral teachings on the profound
188
HONGREN 189
principle and bestowing upon them his silent transmission.14 There is

a book on meditation methods in circulation which is claimed to
contain the teachings of the meditation master Hongren, but this is
wrong.15
According to the master of Shoushan in Anzhou whose personal
name was Xuanze, and who wrote the Record of the People and Dharma
of the Lanka, the great master’s secular name was Zhou.16 His family
were from Xunyang and he was born in the county of Huangmei.
Because his father left when he was young, he took care of his mother,
showing great filial piety.17 At the age of seven, he entered the service
of the meditation master Daoxin, and after leaving home he lived in
Youju Monastery.
He dwelt in the perfection of vast compassion, holding integrity
and purity close to his heart. He kept his lips sealed in the arena of
claims to truth and falsehood, while merging his mind within the
realm of empty forms. Thanks to his efforts in expanding the practice
of offering rituals, his dharma community were able to support him.18
They tamed their own minds while applying themselves exclusively to
all of the ritual practices.19
This teacher alone had the clear understanding that the four
postures are the site of enlightenment, and three kinds of activity are
all the work of the buddha.20 He transcended the two extremes of
peacefulness and disruption, and thus for him speech and silence were
ever one.21
All the time, people came from the four directions to request
instruction. All nine types of disciple asked him to be their master,
going to him empty and returning full.22 Every month there were over
a thousand disciples. He never wrote a book in his life, yet his teach-
ings always tallied with the profound intention.
***
At one time, a meditation master from Jingzhou called Shenxiu pros-
trated himself before Hongren’s eminent example, and personally
received the entrustment of his transmission. In the first year of the
Xianheng era (670), Xuanze arrived at Shuangfeng Mountain and

received instruction from Hongren with reverence. He respectfully
offered his services, and over the next five years he returned three
times for audiences.
When monks and laypeople assembled together to reverently
perform the offering ritual, upon accepting the offerings Hongren
gave a sermon on the meaning of the Laṅkāvatāra, saying, ‘This sutra
can only be fully understood by verifying it with your own mind;
written commentaries cannot explain it.’
In the second month of the fifth year of the Xianheng era (674)
Hongren ordered Xuanze and the others to begin work on a stupa.23
Together, the disciples transported uncut stone and built a beautiful
structure. On the fourteenth day of the same month, Hongren asked
if the stupa had been completed yet, and they respectfully answered
that they had finished. He then said: ‘It should not happen on the day
of the Buddha’s parinirvān ̣a, but from that time onwards, you should
use my residence as a monastery.’24
He went on to say: ‘I cannot count the number of people I have
taught in this lifetime. All of the most excellent have died and now
there are only ten who might be able to transmit my methods in the
future.25 When I discussed the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra with Shenxiu, he
swiftly got to the profound principle, and I am sure he will be of the
greatest benefit. Zhishen from Zizhou and Registrar Liu from Baisong
Mountain are both educated people.26 Huizang from Huazhou and
Xuanyue from Suizhou, I remember, though I no longer see them.
Laoan of Songshan has progressed far along the profound path.27 Faru
from Luzhou,28 Huineng from Shaozhou,29 and the Korean monk
Zhide from Yangzhou are all equally capable of being teachers, though
only to people of their local regions. Yifang from Yuezhou will
continue to give sermons.’
He also spoke to Xuanze, saying: ‘You should take great care of
your simultaneous practice yourself.30 After I pass into nirvana, you
and Shenxiu will make the sun of the buddha shine again, and the
lamp of the mind light up again.’
HONGREN 191
On the sixteenth day of the same month, Hongren asked, ‘Do you
now know my mind?’31 Xuanze respectfully answered that he did not
know. The great master then raised his hand and gestured towards the
ten directions, each time stating that the realized mind was already
there. At noon on the sixteenth day he sat at ease, facing south, closed
his eyes and died. He had seen seventy-four springs and autumns.32
Hongren’s body was ritually interred in a stupa on Mount Fengmao.
Up to the present day, the stupa is just as it was back then.33 Lu Zichan
of Fanyang painted Hongren’s portrait on a wall in Anzhou monastery.
Li Jiongxiu of Longxi, a former head of the Ministry of Defence, eulo-
gized Hongren in the following words:34
Oh excellent man,
With a deep connection to the truth of the way!
Concentrating his mind, he came to the end of wisdom,35
And high realization pervaded his spirit.
Free from birth, he brought about the result,
Demonstrating extinction, he became one with the dust.
Now that he has transformed himself,
How many years before we see his like again?
***
The great master said – There is a room that is completely full of
excrement, earth and hay. What is this?
And he said – We sweep and clean away the excrement, earth and
hay until it is all gone and not a thing remains. What is this?
***
When you sit, let your face relax and sit with your head and body
straight. Calmly let go of your body and mind. Resting in emptiness,
visualize the single syllable from afar. These are the stages of practice:
if you are a beginner who grasps at every object, visualize the single
syllable in your mind. After you have mastered this, when you are
sitting, imagine that you are in the wilderness. In the distance there is
a solitary mountain. You are sitting on the barren ground on top of the
mountain, looking in the four directions, seeing far into the distance,
without barriers or boundaries. As you sit, you fill the whole world,
completely relaxing your body and mind, abiding in the realm of the
buddhas. This is akin to the experience of the pure dharmakaya
without barriers or boundaries.
He also said – At the point when you truly realize the vast dharma-
kaya, who is there to experience this realization?
***
He also said – A buddha possesses thirty-two qualities. Doesn’t a jug
also have these thirty-two qualities? Doesn’t a pillar also have these
thirty-two qualities? And how about earth, wood, tile and stone: don’t
they also have these thirty-two qualities?
Once he picked up two fire tongs, one long and one short, held
them up side by side and asked: ‘Which one is long? Which one is
short?’
Once, Hongren saw someone lighting a lamp, bringing a myriad
things into being with one touch, and he said to everyone, ‘That
person is a maker of dreams, a creator of illusions.’36
Sometimes he used to say, ‘Nothing is created, nothing is made;
everything, of every sort, is the great nirvana.’
***
He also said – Ultimate arising is the lack of arising as an entity.37 It is
not that there is a lack of arising independent of arising as an entity. As
Nāgārjuna wrote:
Entities do not arise from themselves,

Nor do they arise from other,
Nor from both, nor without any cause;
Therefore we know that there is no arising.38
HONGREN 193
If entities arise from conditions, then they lack an inherent nature.

If they lack an intrinsic nature how can they be said to exist?
Furthermore:
Space has no centre or periphery;

All of the buddhas’ bodies are like this too.39
When I give you my seal of approval because I can clearly see the
buddha nature in you, it is this that I see.
***
He also said – When you are sitting in meditation in the monastery,
aren’t you also sitting in meditation under a tree in a mountain forest?
Aren’t earth, wood, tile and stone also able to sit in meditation? Can’t
earth, wood, tile and stone also see forms and hear sounds, wear a
robe and carry a bowl? When the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra talks about ‘the
dharmakaya of the realm of objects’, this is what it means.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHENXIU
Zen in the World
The balance of the Masters of the Lanka changes in the chapter on

Hongren, which gives as much space to his life as to his teachings. And
then in the chapter on Shenxiu, the focus is almost entirely on his life.
Certainly, much more was known about his life than that of his pred-
ecessors, but his teachings were also much more widely circulated.
The Masters of the Lanka gives us his oral teaching style, but says
nothing of the many written texts attributed to Shenxiu. This may be
due to the number and length of his works, which would have been in
general circulation anyway. These works, which survive in the
Dunhuang manuscripts, include his Treatise on Original Luminosity
and Treatise on Contemplating the Mind.1
In this chapter we see Shenxiu’s progress from being a student
of Hongren on East Mountain, to being a court teacher, highly
in demand, constantly travelling between the two capital cities of
Luoyang and Chang’an. His favour with the empress Wu Zetian led to
him being given the title of Imperial Preceptor. In fact, the chapter
implies that Shenxiu was also the National Preceptor, a post that was
subsequently held by Hongren’s other students, Xuanze and Laoan.
Perhaps Shenxiu was appointed Imperial Preceptor to Empress Wu,
and later National Preceptor to her successor, Zhongzong.2
In any case, the Masters of the Lanka reports a conversation between
Empress Wu and Shenxiu, in which the empress asks for the essence
of his teaching. Shenxiu replies that it is the single practice concentra-
tion, as taught in the 700-verse Perfection of Wisdom Sutra. This
is the practice that is taught at length in Daoxin’s teachings in the
194
SHENXIU 195
Masters of the Lanka, which involves visualization and repetition of

the name of a buddha. Of course we cannot know whether this
conversation really took place, but it does play a key role in one of
Shenxiu’s most important works.
Shenxiu’s Five Skilful Means is a liturgy and sermon for the cere-
mony of receiving the vows of a bodhisattva – like the Platform Sutra
and Daoxin’s Dharma Teachings for the Bodhisattva Precepts.3 It begins
with a verse that is to be recited by all participants, making the four
great vows:
I vow to save the innumerable sentient beings.

I vow to eradicate the limitless afflictions.
I vow to master the infinite teachings.
I vow to realize the unsurpassable enlightenment of buddhahood.
This aspirational prayer, the expression of the bodhisattva’s awak-

ening mind (bodhicitta), is followed by five commitments: to stay
away from harmful associations, to stay close to spiritual companions,
to maintain the bodhisattva vows at all times, to read and contemplate
Mahayana sutras, and to strive to liberate sentient beings from
suffering. After this the participants recite a prayer of repentance for
all of their past actions that have transgressed the ten virtues of
Buddhism.
After these conventional preliminaries, the teacher explains ‘the
precepts of purity’, which is the understanding that the true nature of
the precepts is the buddha nature. This is, in principle, an immediate
and instantaneous method for realization: ‘In one instant you can
purify your mind and suddenly transcend to the stage of buddha-
hood.’4 After explaining this, the preceptor strikes a wooden sounding
board, and everyone sits in mindfulness of the buddha.
This is followed by a ritualized question and answer session. The
preceptor begins by quoting a passage from the Diamond Sutra to the
effect that all categories are unreal. The participants in the ceremony
then do the meditation practice that we have seen in Daoxin’s and
Hongren’s chapters, letting go of the distinction between internal

senses and external objects and letting the mind and body fill the
world in a sense of ‘sameness’. The preceptor then asks, ‘What do you
see?’ and the participants all reply, ‘I do not see a single thing.’
Similar ritualized questions and answers feature in later parts of the
ceremony as well. The similarity of the questions to those that appear
in the Masters of the Lanka is intriguing. As John McRae has suggested,
it may be these kinds of ritualized exchanges that formed the basis
for the later question and answer dialogues of koan practice. That
is to say, they came out of a new kind of organized monastic
practice, rather than spontaneous encounters between teachers and
students.5
When we look at Shenxiu’s career, this makes sense. During his
time, Zen teachings became established in monasteries, and with
Shenxiu we see the first examples of what Zen monastic rituals looked
like. And it is with him, or at the earliest with his teacher Hongren,
that the teaching method of breaking through ordinary conceptual
thinking with questions first appears. Shenxiu’s teachings in the
Masters of the Lanka do not come directly from the Five Skilful Means
or his other known works, but they do overlap. For example, at one
point in the latter, the preceptor strikes his wooden sounding board
and asks the participants, ‘Do you hear the sound?’6 And in the
Masters of the Lanka, Shenxiu is said to have asked his students:
When you hear a bell being struck, does the sound exist when it is
struck? Does it exist before it is struck? Is sound really sound?
I think we can be fairly confident in crediting Shenxiu with playing

a significant part in popularizing this particular kind of question and
answer teaching style, which seems to have developed into the koan
tradition. It is also interesting to read the Five Skilful Means next to the
Platform Sutra and see how much they have in common. Since both
are intended for the bodhisattva precepts ceremony, they share a
similar structure, but there is more to it than that. Shenxiu’s ‘precepts
SHENXIU 197
of purity’ are akin to Huineng’s ‘formless precepts’: both use the

perfection of wisdom sutras as their authority for a nonconceptual
realization, and both extol an immediate access to one’s own buddha
nature, the nature of mind.
This undercuts the characterization of Shenxiu’s teachings in the
Platform Sutra as conventional, gradual and indirect. Criticism of
Shenxiu does not feature in Huineng’s sermon itself, but in the mate-
rial before and after, which was added later. For instance, before the
sermon in Platform Sutra, in the biography of Huineng, there is the
famous ‘poetry battle’ in which Huineng is said to have bested Shenxiu
– though this can never have happened, as the two were not studying
with Hongren at the same time. And after the sermon, there is a story
of Shenxiu dispatching one of his students to spy on Huineng: the
student goes to see Huineng, receives instruction, and becomes
convinced of the latter’s superiority.
In words attributed to Huineng, the text directly explains why his
teachings are better than Shenxiu’s:
The Master continued, ‘The morality, meditation, and wisdom of

your master are intended for small-minded people. My morality,
meditation, and wisdom are intended for people of bigger minds.
Once people realize their own nature, they don’t differentiate
between morality, meditation, and wisdom.’7
This is hardly a fair characterization of Shenxiu, the author of the

treatises Original Luminosity and Contemplating the Mind, but as those
works faded into obscurity, and the Platform Sutra did not, this is the
picture of Shenxiu that endured. Still, we might wonder why the
authors of the Platform Sutra, which was dedicated to communicating
the nature of Huineng’s teachings and the story of his life, also had to
denigrate his contemporary.
The answer is surely found in Shenxiu’s fame and success in gaining
the support of Empress Wu, which brought Zen into the realm of
politics. In the next generation his students, especially Puji, benefited
from his fame, and became influential in their own right. And while
Shenxiu had never, as far as we know, claimed to be the only legitimate
successor to Hongren, the fact that he had been given the role of
Imperial Preceptor gave him a great deal of legitimacy.
Zen teachers whose lineages did not come via Shenxiu were not
always happy with this situation, and this resulted in the promotion
of the relatively obscure figure of Huineng as the true successor to
Hongren. And Huineng’s promotion had to be at the expense of
Shenxiu. So we can see Shenxiu as a victim of his own success, at least
posthumously – in the end, known to later generations only through
the story in the Platform Sutra in which his poem was beaten by
Huineng’s, and the characterization of his teaching as gradualist,
rather than immediate.
However, this is only one part of the story. What the Dunhuang
manuscripts tell us is that by the tenth century the teachings of
Shenxiu and his lineage were being transmitted right alongside those
of Huineng and his lineage. If not forgotten, the disputes of the eighth
century were at least no longer relevant. The so-called ‘Northern
School’ of Shenxiu had not died out in the meantime, as people often
assume; its texts and practices were still being transmitted and copied.
Some two centuries after the original controversies, the distinction
between the ‘Northern’ and ‘Southern’ schools was irrelevant in the
context of teaching and practising meditation.
For Buddhist practitioners, lineage is always important, and differ-
ences do exist between one teaching lineage and another; but a
teacher may belong to more than one lineage, and often the most
important principle in Buddhism is: use what works. The teachings
are, after all, only a means to an end. Splits between religious schools,
which scholars like to trace to doctrinal distinctions, are usually
caused by local political situations. The distinction between the
Northern and Southern schools of Zen was largely made by a single
influential monk, Shenhui, who took his polemical sermons across the
country when he went on tours in which he gave the bodhisattva
precepts ceremony to large audiences.
SHENXIU 199
The differences between Shenxiu and Huineng’s teaching are

minor, and the Platform Sutra simply preserves a particular point in
time when some students of the latter were attempting to differentiate
their own doctrines from those of the more dominant students of
Shenxiu. Afterwards, there was little interest in continuing to insist on
a distinction that didn’t make any difference. There is a passage in the
Platform Sutra itself that expresses this view, going in the opposite
direction from some of the other polemical passages in the text. Here,
the text explains that the names ‘Northern’ and ‘Southern’ are only
used because Shenxiu was at Yuquan monastery, and Huineng lived
some twelve miles to the south. In this passage, the Platform Sutra is
equally dismissive of the idea that the teachings of the Southern
School are ‘direct’, and those of the Northern School ‘indirect’.8
And what is the origin of ‘direct’ and ‘indirect’? Although there is

only one kind of dharma, understanding can be fast or slow. When
understanding is slow, we say it’s ‘indirect’. And when under-
standing is fast, we say it’s ‘direct’. The dharma isn’t direct or indi-
rect, it’s people who are sharp or dull. This is why we have the
terms ‘direct’ and ‘indirect’.9
***
One mysterious and pithy teaching attributed to Shenxiu appears only
in the Masters of the Lanka – his last words. I have translated these as
‘Bend with the crooked and the straight’. However, this enigmatic
three-character phrase qū qū zhí has been interpreted in many other
ways as well. For example, J.C. Cleary has ‘bend the crooked and make
it straight’, and John McRae suggests in a similar vein ‘the vagaries of
the world are now straightened’. He also cites with approval the inter-
pretation of Yanagida, which takes the first and second characters as a
reference to the indirect teachings of the Buddha: ‘the teachings of the
expedient means have been made direct’.10 Bernard Faure has simply
‘plié, courbé, redressé’ (‘bent, curved, straightened’).11
So, why ‘Bend with the crooked and the straight’? The first char-
acter (qū) has several meanings, usually as a verb, around the concept
of bending; one of these is ‘submit to, yield to’. The second and third
characters (qū zhí) are conventional antonyms, ‘crooked and straight’,
which appear together in Chinese Confucian classics such as the Liji:
‘The round and the deflected, the crooked and the straight, each has
its own category.’ And in the Shangshu: ‘The nature of water is to soak
and descend; of fire, to blaze and ascend; of wood, to be crooked and
straight; of metal, to yield and change.’12
Thus I would suggest that Shenxiu was using a phrase that would
be familiar to an educated audience at the court. What does it mean?
Roughly, the sense is be flexible, not rigid; one might say, go with the
flow. This interpetation is also reminiscent of a later statement by
Dogen about the most important thing he learned from his Zen
teacher in China: ‘a soft and flexible mind’.13
***
The Masters of the Lanka concludes with a very brief chapter on four
of Shenxiu’s students. Really, almost nothing is said about them or
their teachings, and they are not differentiated from each other. The
chapter only serves to let us know who were considered to be the
foremost inheritors of Shenxiu’s teachings. From other historical
sources we know that one of these four, Puji, took Shenxiu’s place at
the imperial court, and was very successful there, with hundreds of
monastic students as well as his royal patrons.14
It is interesting to see, in these last two chapters, that the model of
a single teacher to student transmission is dropped. The beginning
of Shenxiu’s chapter mentions him alongside two other students of
Hongren, and repeats Hongren’s statement that ten of his students are
authorized to carry on his teachings. In the concluding chapter, four
teachers representing the next generation of the Lanka lineage are
mentioned.
Thus the Masters of the Lanka does not take part in the arguments
that arose in the generation after Hongren’s students about which
SHENXIU 201
one of those students was the true inheritor of his authority. Instead
the model of one master per generation ends with Hongren. This is
different from both the slightly earlier Transmission of the Dharma
Jewel, which has Shenxiu as the sole representative of Hongren’s
authority, and the somewhat later Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel,
which has Huineng in the same role. Instead, the Masters of the Lanka
has the Zen teachings spreading outwards, like the branches of a tree
moving away from the trunk, reaching towards the sky.
Chapter Seven
In the Tang dynasty, the three great teachers, Master Shenxiu of

Yuquan monastery in Jingzhou, Master Xuanze of Shoushan monas-
tery in Anzhou, and Master Laoan of Huishan monastery on Mount
Song in Luozhou, were appointed by the noble Empress Wu Zetian,
Emperor Yingtian Shenlong and Emperor Taishang in succession to
the post of National Preceptor.15 The great master Hongren made a
prediction about them when he said, ‘Only ten of my disciples will be
capable of passing on my methods’.16 Together, they were the succes-
sors to meditation master Hongren.
According to the master of Shoushan in Anzhou, who compiled the
Record of the People and Dharma of the Lanka, the meditation master
Shenxiu had the family name Li. His family were from Weishi in
Bianzhou.17 He left home and crossed the upper Yangtse river to
seek the path that he yearned for, travelling till he reached the home
of the meditation teacher Hongren at Shuangfeng Mountain in
Qizhou.
And he was accepted by this meditation master,

Who was silently illuminated by the lamp of meditation,
Who had abandoned the methods of verbal expression,18
Who had put an end to the operation of his mental functions,19
Who never produced any written records.20
Later, when Shenxiu was living at Yuquan monastery in Jingzhou,

in the first year of the Dazu era (701), he was summoned to the
202
SHENXIU 203
Eastern Capital (Luoyang). He accompanied the imperial carriages

back and forth between the two capitals, giving teachings, and was
personally appointed by the empress as her Imperial Preceptor.21
The noble Empress Wu Zetian asked the meditation master
Shenxiu, ‘Which school of thought does the dharma that you transmit
belong to?’22
He answered, ‘I belong to the teaching tradition of East Mountain
in Jingzhou.’
She asked him to tell her what their scriptural authority was, and he
answered, ‘Our authority is the the Saptaśatikā-prajñāpāramitā sūtra’s
teaching on the single practice concentration.’
Zetian said, ‘If we were to assess the practice of the path, no
other teaching tradition surpasses that of the East Mountain. Since
Shenxiu is a follower of Hongren, he is somebody who speaks the
truth.’23
***
On the thirteenth day of the third month of the first year of the
Shenlong era (705), Emperor Yingtian Shenlong issued the following
decree:24
This meditation teacher’s footprints are free from the dust of the
world, and his spirit roams free of worldly concerns. In accord with
the subtle principle free from categories, he guides those who have
lost their way in the bonds of existence. Inside, the waters of
concentration are still and pure. Outside, the pearls of morality are
bright and clear. His disciples turn their minds to Buddhism,
setting off towards fords and bridges to ask for an explanation of his
teaching tradition, hoping to take the first steps on the path.25
Recently the meditation teacher has been wishing to return to his
homeland. You must act without delay to assist him in his heart’s
desire. Do not get in the way of his yearning for the elm trees!26 I
have granted him this letter to make my intentions known. Now I
have pointed my finger, no more words need be said.27
Thus the meditation teacher gained the respect of two emperors.28

Teaching in both capitals, he brought benefit to both court and coun-
tryside, bringing innumerable people to liberation.29 By imperial
decree, Baoen Monastery was established in his birthplace, the great
village of Li.30
On the twenty-eighth day of the second month of the second year
of the Shenlong era (15 March 706), he sat in meditation posture
without discomfort and spoke three words as his last testament: ‘Bend
with the crooked and the straight.’31 He passed away peacefully
at Tiangong Monastery in the Eastern Capital, having seen over a
hundred springs and autumns. Monastic and lay devotees from across
the city came together and hung the temples with banners.32 The
funeral was carried out on Longmen Mountain, with the imperial
princesses and sons-in-law all providing memorial statements.33 The
emperor issued the following decree:
The late meditation teacher Shenxiu,

His immaculate awareness in harmony with the world,
His spiritual energy permeating his inner being,
Has reached the inner core of nonduality.
He alone has won the topknot jewel,34
While defending the gate of true oneness.
The mirror of his mind, hanging alone,
In perfect clarity responds to the needs of beings.35
All appearances come together in his luminous spirit,
Unconditioned and spontaneously present,
Clear of dust, free of entanglements.36
Even as he moved towards the sunset of his life,
His spirit became brighter day by day.
The moment that he pierced the depths of subtle and profound
awareness,37
He became a guide for the eyes and ears of a multitude of beings.
In the sameness of non-conceptualization and vast compassion,
He devoted himself to guiding those who came under his influence,
SHENXIU 205
Setting his heart on nirvana for everyone.38

He thought long and hard about the transmission of the teachings,
Even though the principle is free from name and form.
He never needed or pursued respect,
Yet he was an ideal teacher of students.
So, with the aspiration that he should always be covered in glory,
I hereby confer on him the title Meditation Teacher Datong.39
The emperor decreed: ‘It would be fitting to dispatch the frontrider

to the heir apparent, Lu Zhengquan, to escort Shenxiu’s remains to
Jingzhou, and to establish a stele at Dumen Monastery. Zhengquan
should also make a report about the condition of the monastery on
the day of his return.’40
One of the monks at the monastery wrote the following eulogy:
Our incomparable teacher

Has traversed the path to the ultimate truth,
Pure liberation,
Reality itself, perfectly luminous.
He explained the unsurpassed path,
Opened the path to unsurpassed insight.
His karmic imprints dissolved in the sameness
Of a mind that is free of the three times.
He used conventional language to demonstrate the principle,
In accordance with the way of the principle.
He always acted as a ship of the dharma,
Taking people across the river.
***
The great teacher said – The Nirvana Sutra teaches that, ‘If you under-
stand a single word of this properly, then you are worthy of the title of
Preceptor.’41 The words come from the sutra, but the realization is within.
He also said – Does this mind have a mind? What kind of mind is
your mind?
He also said – When you see forms do they have form? What kind
of form are forms?
He also said – When you hear a bell being struck, does the sound
exist when it is struck? Does it exist before it is struck? What kind of
sound are sounds?
He also said – Does the sound of a bell being struck only exist
inside the monastery, or does the sound of the bell pervade the whole
universe as well?42
He also said – The body disappears but the reflection remains.43
The bridge flows but the water does not. My path is based on the
unity of two words, ‘essence’ and ‘activity’.44 It is also called ‘the gate
to the twofold mystery’.45 It is also called ‘turning the wheel of the
dharma’. It is also called ‘the path and its result’.
He also said – First no seeing, then seeing. Seeing is always the
cessation of seeing, and the return of seeing again.46
He also said – The Jewel Garland Sutra says: ‘Bodhisattvas illumi-
nate stillness; buddhas make luminosity still.’
He also said – A mustard seed may enter Mount Meru, and Mount
Meru may enter a mustard seed.
Also, seeing a bird fly past, he would ask – What is this?
He also said – Can you spend the time sitting in meditation at the
end of a branch?
He also said – Can you walk straight through a wall?
He also said – It is taught in the Nirvana Sutra that the bodhisattva’s
body has no limits, yet he came from the east.47 Since the bodhisatt-
va’s body has no limits or boundaries, then how did he come from the
east? Why could he not come from the west, or from the south or
north? Are they not equally possible?
SHENXIU 207
Conclusion
In the Tang dynasty, meditation teacher Puji from Songgao Mountain
in Luozhou, meditation teacher Jingxian from Song Mountain,
meditation teacher Yifu from Lan Mountain near Chang’an, and
meditation teacher Huifu from Yu Mountain in Lantian, all studied as
dharma companions at the same time with a single master. They were
all successors to Master Datong.48
They left home when they were young, kept their precepts
pure, and sought a teacher to ask about the path. Travelling far to
find a tradition of meditation, they arrived at Yuquan monastery
in Jingzhou where they met Master Datong, whose personal name
was Shenxiu, and received the transmission of his meditation
teachings.
All of these teachers served the great teacher together for more than
ten years. They each attained clear realization. The jewel of medita-
tion was the only thing that shone for them. The great teacher
entrusted Puji, Jingxian, Yifu and Huifu together with the blazing
lamp that lights up the world, and transmitted to them the great
crystal mirror.49
All people under heaven who sit in meditation admired these four
meditation teachers, saying:
The mountain of dharma is pure,

The sea of dharma is clear,
The mirror of dharma is bright,
The lamp of dharma shines out.
They sat at ease atop famous mountains and cleared their minds in
deep valleys. Their virtue merged with the ocean of the original
nature. Their practice bloomed on the branches of meditation. In
unconditioned purity, they walked alone and unhampered. They illu-
minated the dark with the lamp of meditation, and all who learned
from them realized the buddha mind.
***
Ever since the Song dynasty (420–77), there have been eminent
meditation teachers of great virtue, coming one generation after
another.50 Beginning with the tripit ̣aka master Gun ̣abhadra in the
Song, the flame has been passed on through the generations down to
the Tang dynasty; altogether eight generations have accomplished the
path and attained the result, comprising twenty-four people.51
Record of the Teachers and Students of the Lanka
— one volume
NOTES
preface
1. Ford 2012: 75.
chapter 1. the practice of zen

1. Here, ‘peace of mind’ is a translation of the Chinese ānxīn ᆹᗳ.
2. Monier-Williams 1998: 483.II.
3. See chapter 9 above for a discussion of this metaphor in Zen and beyond.
4. In Bodhidharma’s Two Entrances and Four Practices, the fourth practice is to
perform giving and the other six perfections informed by the three aspects of
emptiness (sānkōng йオ), i.e. emptiness of agent, object and action (see chapter
8 above). Elsewhere in Buddhist literature, this classification of all interpersonal
events into agent, object and action is usually known as ‘the three spheres’
(Chinese sānlún й䕚, Sanskrit triman ̣d ̣ala). To be governed by this categorization
is an obstruction to the truly selfless behaviour of a bodhisattva. The Tiansheng
Extensive Record (Tiansheng guangdeng lu) states that the followers of the Buddha’s
Zen teaching were not attached to these three spheres; see Foulk 1999: 255.
5. This statement is from Daoxin’s teachings in The Masters of the Lanka; see
chapter 12 above.
6. Translation in Ferguson 2011: 22.
7. An early Zen text, which survives in translation on the same manuscript as the
Tibetan translation of the Masters of the Lanka, uses this image when discussing
the relationship between teachers and students; see van Schaik 2015: 65.
8. On the early texts on mindfulness of breathing, and their introduction to China,
see Deleanu 1992. The quote from Robert Aitken is in Taking the Path of Zen
(Aitken 1982: 11–12). This book provides a detailed and practical guide to begin-
ning Zen meditation, though it should be noted that Aitken belonged to a specific
Japanese teaching lineage, the twentieth-century reformist Sanbo Kyodan school.
9. The Japanese word ‘shikantaza’ can also mean to concentrate on sitting alone (i.e.
not on other practices). It comes from the Soto Zen school, where it is attributed
to Dogen (1200–53), though some form of this kind of meditation is practised
in almost all Zen traditions.
10. The word ‘satori’ is Japanese, based on the Chinese wù ᛏ, which can be trans-
lated as ‘enlightenment’. The word ‘kenshō’ is Chinese jiànxìng 㾻ᙗ, meaning ‘to
see the nature’; this term appears in early Zen works including the Platform Sutra
of Huineng. See for example Yampolsky (2012: 149), where the term is translated
209
210 n o t e s t o p p. 8 – 1 8
as ‘see into your own nature’, and Red Pine (2006: 22), where it is translated as
‘see your nature’.
11. As an example of the use of the English word ‘enlightenment’ for a glimpse or
temporary breakthrough, see the American Zen teacher Setsuan Gaelyn Godwin:
‘In our tradition, enlightenment is not a permanent state. [The Zen monk] Ikkyu
had a taste or a glimpse that was verified’ (Buddhadharma magazine, Spring 2016,
p. 48). Sheng Yen’s definition is from Sheng 2008: 29.
12. Welch 1967: 84.
13. From the Keisei Sanshoku chapter of Dogen’s Shōbōgenzō. Translation from
Tanahashi 2010: 92. See also Nearman 2007: 75; Nishijima and Cross 2006: I.78.
14. From the preface of Masters of the Lanka – see chapter 7 above.
15. One short-lived early school of Zen did apparently take the radical step of aban-
doning all formal practices; see Adamek 2007: 218–26.
16. Translation from Tanahashi 2015: 60.
18. This version of the ten precepts comes from the Brahmajāla sūtra. Slightly
different versions are chanted in different traditions of Zen and other schools of
Mahayana Buddhism.
20. Laṅkāvatāra XIII; translation from Red Pine 2013: 83.
21. Laṅkāvatāra XXVII; translation from Red Pine 2013: 109.
22. Giving is the first of the six perfections (Skt pāramitā) practised by the
bodhisattva. The others are: morality, patience, effort, meditation and insight.
23. Laṅkāvatāra III; translation from Red Pine 2013: 63.
24. Dogen’s commentary on the story of killing the Buddha is in the ‘Zazen Shin’
chapter of Shōbōgenzō, trans. Nishijima and Cross 2006: 2.82–3; Tanahashi
2010: 308; Nearman 2007: 343.
25. Thich Nhat Hanh 1995: 53–4.
26. This story appears in many Zen collections, including the Anthology of the
Patriarchal Hall. For a more literal rendering, see McRae 2003: 81.
27. In English translation, see for example Chang 1983: 68, from Taisho 310, no. 36:
Shanzhuyi tianzi hui (Skt Susthitamati-devaputra-paripr ̣cchā).
28. From Zongmi’s Chan Prolegomenon translated in Broughton 2009: 154.
29. The relationship between sudden realization and gradual practice was discussed
insightfully by the seventh-century scholar Zongmi, in his Chan Prolegomenon
(see Broughton 2009: 152–5). The question is alluded to poetically in the
Laṅkāvatāra sūtra, which gives four examples of gradual progress and four of
sudden realization (see Broughton 2009: 277, n.269). The tension between
sudden and gradual is also at the heart of the spiritual quest of Dogen, as
described in his biography (see Ford 2006: 45).
30. For a discussion, see Dumoulin 1988: 85.
31. This has been the interpretation offered by most Zen teachers who have
addressed the issue. See the discussion in Foulk 1999, esp. p. 260.
32. The first image is quoted from an unnamed ‘ancient book’ while the second is
from the Avatam. saka sūtra.
33. This is my own translation from the Chinese. The poem is popularly attributed
to Layman Pang, also known as Pangyun (740–808). The phrase ‘carry water
and haul firewood’ appears in many other Zen texts, including Dogen’s Eihei
Kōroku; see Leighton and Okumura 2010: 203–4, 215, 221, 232.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 9 – 2 8 211
chapter 2. zen and the west

1. Watts 1991: 15.
2. Watts 1991: 42
3. Kapleau 1989: 31.
4. McMahan 2008: 186–7.
5. Harris 2014: 10.
6. The significant figures in this mindfulness movement are usually explicit about
its origin in Buddhism, though further down the line the technique is often
presented as a purely secular one. See for example ‘This is not McMindfulness by
any Stretch of the Imagination’, an interview with Jon Kabat-Zinn in The
Psychologist, 18 May 2015. For an academic critique of ‘mindfulness’ in relation
to Zen Buddhism, see Sharf 2014 and the papers in Rosenbaum and Magid 2016.
7. The arguments of the above two paragraphs are based on Foulk 2006.
8. For the involvement of some of these teachers in the Second World War, see
Victoria 2006.
9. Sharf 1993: 39.
10. ‘Jargon File’ (Version 4.4.7, 29 Dec. 2003), ed. Eric Raymond, is to be found at
www.catb.org/jargon/html/. It is also archived at: http://jargon-file.org/archive/
jargon-4.4.7.dos.txt. See also: http://www.catb.org/jargon/html/koans.html
11. Raymond 2015.
12. Pirsig 1974: 6.
13. Eugen Herrigel (1884–1955) was a German philosopher and, later in life, a
nationalist and Nazi. His presentation of Zen has been critiqued in Yamada 2001.
14. On Samurai Zen, see Victoria 2006: 215–55.
15. It has been argued, by Batchelor and others, that rebirth is not as significant in Zen
teaching as in many other Buddhist traditions. While this may be true for some
contemporary teachers, karma and rebirth are certainly present in the works of
many of the most revered teachers of the tradition. For example, in Bodhidharma’s
Two Entrances and Four Practices, the first and second practices are based on the
contemplation of the results of one’s actions in past lives. And for a classic discussion
of karma and rebirth in the Japanese Zen tradition, see the two chapters ‘Sanji No
Go’ and ‘Shinjin Inga’ from Dogen’s Shōbōgenzō (Nishijima and Cross 2006:
4.101–9, 165–71; Tanahashi 2010: 779–91, 851–7; Nearman 2007: 1019–43).
16. For Sam Harris, rebirth is one of the superstitions of Buddhist traditions that can
and should be ignored; see Harris 2014: 137.
17. Midgley 1996: 80. The moral problems that arise from this view of humanity
have been explored by Alastair MacIntyre in his influential After Virtue. MacIntyre
identifies modern moral discourse as emotivism, ‘the doctrine that all evaluative
judgements and more specifically all moral judgements are nothing but expres-
sions of preference, expressions of attitude or feeling’ (MacIntyre 2011: 11–12).
18. See Baier 2009, especially chapter 1, ‘The Rights of Past and Future Persons’ –
the phrase she uses is ‘the temporal continuity of the moral community’ (p. 9).
19. On the discussions about the possible applications of Buddhist concepts to envi-
ronmentalism, see Ives 2009.
20. See Ford 2006: 66–71.
21. From the website of the San Francisco Zen Center: http://sfzc.org/about-zen-
center/principles-governance/vision.
22. On the nature and history of Zen centres in the USA, see Ford 2006.
212 n o t e s t o p p. 2 8 – 4 0
23. Satō and Nishimura 1973: 12.

24. From the Kankin chapter of Shōbōgenzō, translation in Tanahashi 2010: 229;
Nearman 2007: 238–9; Nishijima and Cross 2006: 1.232.
25. This popular saying is attributed to Baizhang Huaihai (749–814); see Poceski
2010: 16.
26. Satō and Nishimura 1973: 35.
27. On the shukushin ceremony and its sources in Chinese Chan, see Mohr 2008.
chapter 3. the history of zen

1. The story and its earliest appearances are discussed in Welter 2000. He writes
that ‘the textual record indicates that the story was fabricated in China as part of
an effort by Ch’an monks to create an independent identity within the Chinese
Buddhist context’ (p. 76).
2. On the evolution of the stories of Bodhidharma, see McRae 2003: 22–8.
3. For an exhaustive study of Huineng, see Jorgensen 2012.
4. Shibayama 1974: 60.
5. McRae 2003: 27–8.
6. See Greene 2012: 17–28.
7. Zürcher 2007: 33.
8. Meditation Essentials (Chan miyao fa jing) 1.9; translation based on Greene 2012:
349.
9. Meditation Essentials 3.33; translation based on Greene 2012: 473.
10. There is discussion of this in the Mūlasarvāstivāda vinaya section on pos ̣adha
(MSV 1,02: Pos ̣adhavastu); this is in the first part, on nis ̣adyā, i.e. ‘sitting’, which
is also called yoga. This meditation practice is exclusively a consideration of the
impurity of the body, going through all its physical elements.
11. This is the point made by Eric Greene (2012: 11): ‘In fifth- and sixth-century
China, chan seems to have been valued in large measure as a means of divining
the efficacy of such rites.’ Similar points have been made about a Sanskrit medita-
tion book found in the Central Asian city of Kucha, dating from the same period,
which gives vivid details of visualizations and visions; see Schlingloff 2006.
12. In Daoxin’s instructions for novices in the Masters of the Lanka (see chapter 13
above), the meditation practice of analysing the body and establishing its empti-
ness is said to be ‘the true practice of repentance’.
13. On early Tiantai and Pure Land in relation to early Chan, see Poceski 2015; for a
critical history of Pure Land practice in China, see Yu 2006. Yu points out that
the idea that there was a ‘Pure Land school’ separate from other currents of
Buddhism (such as Zen) is a later construction.
14. Zongmi, ‘Chan Prolegomenon’, translated in Broughton 2009: 110 (square
brackets in original translation removed).
15. On the importance of the bodhisattva precepts ceremony to the transmission of
Zen, see Adamek 2007: 67–88.
16. Morten Schlütter (2008: 36–9) has shown that Zen monks benefited from a
Song practice of converting hereditary monasteries, with a family succession of
abbots, to public monasteries, where the abbots were chosen from outside, often
by local rulers. However, as John McRae has pointed out, the presence of an
abbot from a Zen lineage did not make these public monasteries into ‘Zen
monasteries’ as has often been imagined; see McRae 2003: 116.
n o t e s t o p p. 4 0 – 5 1 213
17. From Hongzhi chanshi guanglu (T.48, no. 2001, p. 74b25), translated in Leighton
2000: 10, and discussed in McRae 2003: 137–8.
18. From Dahui yulu, translated in Buswell (1987: 349) and discussed in McRae
(2003: 127).
19. There are many books on koans, but one of the best is still Zen Dust (Fuller
Sasaki and Miura 1965).
20. See McRae 2003: 122: ‘There never was any such thing as an institutionally
separate Chan “school” at any time in Chinese Buddhist history.’
21. See Foulk 2006: 151–2.
22. There are now several English translations of the Shōbōgenzō available, in print
and online. In this book, I have primarily consulted the translation by Gudō
Nishijima and Chodo Cross which tends to follow the Japanese closely and is
well footnoted; however, some consider it to be rather idiosyncratic. The four
volumes of the first edition were published in 1994–99; a second edition, also in
four volumes, was published in 2006; and there is also a 2009 electronic edition
available online at www.thezensite.com, which unfortunately omits the Chinese
and Japanese characters of the print edition. Here, my page references are to the
print 2006 edition. Additionally, I used the collaborative translation edited by
Kazuaki Tanahashi (2010), which tends to fluency rather than literal translation,
for quotations. Another good translation, comparable in approach to the
Tanahashi edition, was done by Hubert Nearman (2007) for the Shasta Abbey;
this version is free and appears to be available only in an electronic edition, from
shastaabbey.org/pdf/shoboAll.pdf. I have also used the first volume of the trans-
lation by Kōsen Nishiyama and John Stevens (1975–83), which contains a good
account of Dogen’s life.
23. See Welter 2008; quote from p. 114.
24. Foulk 2006: 150.
25. Foulk 2006: 150.
26. Jaffe 2001: 2. For a discussion by a Japanese Zen priest see Okumura 2012:
54–5.
27. This issue is discussed at some length in Ford 2006: 50–5.
28. Reverend Kim and his teachings are discussed at various points in Adamek 2007.
For his role in Tibetan Zen, see van Schaik 2015: 147–9.
29. For a much more detailed discussion of Zongmi’s thought in the context of
Korean Buddhism, see the introduction to Buswell 1983.
30. Ford 2006: 96; Batchelor 2008.
31. For a detailed account of Zen in Vietnam, see Thich Thien-An 1975.
32. Thich Nhat Hanh 1995: 23.
33. Thich Nhat Hanh 1995: 25.
chapter 4. the lost texts of zen

1. Robson 2011: 311.
2. Stein 1921: 820.
3. Salomon 2011: 30.
4. This account of Hongbian and the cave at Dunhuang is informed by Yoshiro
Imaeda’s excellent article ‘The Provenance and Character of the Dunhuang
Documents’ (2008). Another recent attempt to explain the contents of the cave by
214 n o t e s t o p p. 5 1 – 6 2
Rong Xinjiang (2000) focuses on the evidence in manuscript colophons for the
role of a monk who was collecting manuscripts to repair the contents of the Sanjie
monastery’s library. Then in the early eleventh century, Rong argues, the entire
library of the Sanjie monastery was moved over to the Dunhuang cave and sealed,
probably for its own safety, for fear of the Islamic armies who were threatening the
Silk Route cities to the west. Thus for Rong, the contents of the Dunhuang cave
represent a complete monastic library, rather than a variety of libraries and personal
collections. Imaeda’s article offers various points of criticism of Rong’s theory.
5. The idea of the fear of invasion motivating the closing of the cave was first
suggested by Paul Pelliot, and more recently in Rong (2000: 272–5). The more
prosaic reason that I suggest here has also been suggested by Yoshiro Imaeda
(2008: 98), and in van Schaik and Galambos (2011: 27–8).
6. For a good summary of the Zen texts found in the Dunhuang manuscripts, see
Sørenson 1989.
7. Cole 2009: 7.
8. On these early lineage texts, see Wendi Adamek 2007: 161–9. Timothy Barrett
(1991) has argued that the Masters of the Lanka must have been composed
before 716 (though his argument refers to the preface, so the main part of the text
may be earlier).
9. Red Pine 2013: 3.
10. The three levels of reality are: (i) the imagined level of reality, which is completely
false; (ii) the dependent level of reality, which is a correct conceptual under-
standing; and (iii) the perfected level of reality, which is nonconceptual thusness.
The eight aspects of consciousness are the five senses, mental consciousness
(Skt mano-vijñāna), ego (Skt manas) and basic consciousness (Skt ālaya-vijñāna).
This model of consciousness is discussed in chapter 8 above.
11. The inclusive nature of the Masters of the Lanka is discussed in Adamek 2007:
168–9.
12. In S.2054 the character is jí 䳶. In Pelliot chinois 3436, it is huì ᴳ. Both mean to
collect or gather together.
13. These issues have been discussed by Bernard Faure (1997: 167–73). Faure
argues that there are four ‘editorial layers’ to the Masters of the Lanka: the funda-
mental text; Jingjue’s preface; the entries on Daoxin (second section), Hongren
and Shenxiu; and the final entry, dedicated to Shenxiu’s four disciples.
14. See Jorgensen 2012 for an account of Shenhui’s activities.
15. See, for example, Faure 1998: 25–6.
16. Schlütter 2012: 10.
17. Zongmi, ‘Chan Prolegomenon’, translated in Broughton 2009: 110.
18. The process by which the idea of transmission and lineage became so important
in Chinese Zen is discussed in depth in Adamek 2007.
19. A comparable situation to the Dunhuang manuscripts in China is the more
recent discovery of Qin dynasty bamboo slips, which has challenged the tradi-
tional historical account of discrete philosophical schools; see Allen 2015.
20. Cole’s (2009) discussion of Jingjue is in his chapter 5. In other chapters he
critiques other Chan figures, including Shenhui and the author of the Transmission
of the Dharma Jewel, Du Fei.
21. Robson 2011: 338.
22. Robson 2011: 335–6.
23. Adamek 2011: 6.
n o t e s t o p p. 6 3 – 8 5 215
chapter 5. early zen meditation

1. This has been pointed out by Sharf (2014: 934).
2. While Daoxin does not explicitly recommend the practice of reciting the
Buddha’s name, it is quite clear in the passage that he quotes from the Saptaśatikā-
prajñāpāramitā sūtra; the Chinese translated here as ‘only recite his name’ is
zhuānchēng míngzì ሸち਽ᆇ.
3. I have translated niànfó ᘥ֋ here as ‘mindfulness of the Buddha’. The Buddha
(fó) is the object of the verb (niàn), so this must be understood as the practi-
tioner keeping the Buddha in mind. It is important to understand how this differs
from the way the word ‘mindfulness’ is used currently, as Robert Sharf has shown
(Sharf 2014).
4. Ferguson 2011: 30.
5. According to Charles Muller (Digital Dictionary of Buddhism, http://www.
buddhism.dict.net [hereafter DDB]), rènyùn ԫ䙻 can also mean: ‘That which is
arisen spontaneously, and is not directly initiated by one’s present discrimination
or volition.’
6. See van Schaik 2015: 134–5, 141.
7. See the discussion on the metaphor of the mirror in this text and other early Zen
texts in McRae 1986: 144–7.
8. In this case I disagree with John McRae’s opinion (1986: 138–9) that the term
was adopted from Daoism because it denoted ‘a general technique that was appli-
cable in all situations and far superior to the myriad other techniques of more
specific use and elaborate description’.
9. McRae 2003: 85–6.
10. McRae 2003: 86–8.
11. According to DDB (Muller), héwù օ⢙ is equivalent to Skt yad idam.
12. In the context of contemporary Zen, the phrase shì shénme ᱟӰ哬, also meaning
‘what is this?’, is also commonly used.
13. This story is in Dogen’s Extensive Record, translation from Leighton and Okumura
2010: 435.
14. Batchelor 2008: 1.
15. Shōji Yamada (2001) has shown in detail how Herrigel created a myth of Zen
archery. In his research into Japanese Zen writing on archery, he located only one
reference to archery with a Buddhist interpretation, and this was based on the
doctrines of the Shingon school, rather than Zen (Yamada 2001: 27).
16. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus 6.54, in Wittgenstein 1922: 90.
17. Zhuangzi, chapter 6, translation in Ziporyn 2009: 114. The last sentence is also
quoted in the Transmission of the Dharma Jewel (see McRae 1986: 267).
chapter 6. manuscripts and translation

1. Manuscripts with numbers beginning Or.8210/S. and IOL Tib J are from the
British Library (London). The Pelliot chinois manuscripts are from the
Bibliothèque nationale de France (Paris). Manuscripts beginning with BD are
from the National Library of China (Beijing), and those beginning with Dh are
from the Institute of Oriental Manuscripts (St Petersburg). Digital images of
many of the manuscripts are available at the website of the International Dunhuang
Project (http://idp.bl.uk). Editions of all the manuscripts have been made avail-
216 n o t e s t o p p. 8 5 – 9 4
able at the website of the Dunhuang Manuscript Full Text Digitization Project:
http://dev.ddbc.edu.tw/Dunhuang_Manuscripts/. Printed and facsimile editions
are also available in Bingenheimer and Chang 2018.
2. Pelliot tibétain 3294 (including Pelliot chinois 3294 Pièce) has not previously
been considered part of the same original scroll as these other two manuscripts.
However, despite some differences in the way the paper has been treated, and
perhaps the use of a different brush by the scribe, the handwriting, layout and
size strongly suggest that it is part of the same scroll. I would like to thank
Nathalie Monnet at the Bibliothèque nationale de France for examining the
original manuscripts there and confirming this.
3. It is possible that some of the fragments from the Bodhidharma section may not
be from the Masters of the Lanka, as Bodhidharma’s text circulated on its own and
in other collections as well.
4. For an edition of the Tibetan text see Drikung Kyabgön Chetsang 2010. For a
translation of the text, see van Schaik 2015: 79–97. There are also manuscript
fragments of a Sogadian translation of the Masters of the Lanka, from the preface
and the Bodhidharma chapter; see Yoshida 2015.
5. See for example Faure 1997: 168–9.
6. Robson 2011: 334.
chapter 7. jingjue: student of emptiness

1. The lack of any explicit statement in the Masters of the Lanka itself – in the
preface or at the end – that Jingjue was the primary successor to Shenxiu and
Xuanze makes Alan Cole’s claim that this was the sole purpose of the text ques-
tionable.
2. Empress Wu has also been linked to the spread of print technology in China, long
before its emergence in the West. See Barrett 2008.
3. This passage is from Wang Wei’s account translated in Faure 1997: 135.
4. The manuscripts containing the preface are:
• the large scrolls Pelliot chinois 3436 and Or.8210/S.2054, which are missing
the beginning of the preface (the former missing more);
• the scroll fragment Pelliot chinois 4564, the only manuscript containing the
very beginning of the preface;
• other fragments overlapping with the above: Pelliot chinois 3294 and Dh 5654.
5. See for example the meditation teachings of the eighth-century monk
Moheyan – from Tibetan texts – in van Schaik 2015: 134–7. Shenxiu’s medita-
tion teachings are discussed in my introduction to his chapter in the Masters of the
Lanka.
6. Here, ‘delusion’ translates wàngxiǎng ྴᜣ, literally ‘false thought’. In the
Buddhist context, this term is often translated as ‘conceptualization’ or ‘discrimi-
nation’. The Sanskrit equivalent is vikalpa.
7. In Or.8210/S.382, the last two characters of this line are zìyòng 㠚⭘, meaning
‘autonomous’ or perhaps ‘spontaneous’ rather than ‘still or active’.
8. The two vehicles are the hinayana paths of the hearers and solitary buddhas.
Or.8210/S.382 has ‘three vehicles’.
9. This first part of the text survives only in the manuscript fragment Pelliot chinois
4654. The prayer itself is found independently elsewhere in the Dunhuang
n o t e s t o p p. 9 4 – 9 7 217
manuscripts; see Or.8210/S.382; it is also included in the Taisho as T.85,

no. 2828, p. 1266b7–11. There are a few differences in the Or.8210/S.382
version of the prayer.
10. There are gaps in the only manuscript containing this part of the text (Pelliot
chinois 3436), so we only have fragments of the next few lines. With the lacuna,
they read: ‘Imprints . . . [I,] Jingjue had only a hazy and limited understanding,
the imprints of not having heard . . . rare . . .’
11. Datong was the posthumous name given by the emperor to Shenxiu – see
chapter 15 above.
12. The phrase ‘possessed the seal of approval’ refers to Xuanze being an authorized
student of Hongren, as Shenxiu was.
13. The characters chuán dēng ۣ⟸ are usually translated as ‘transmission of the
lamp’ but the image is more accurately the passing on of the flame from one oil
lamp or candle to another. It is not meant to be the passing of a lamp from one
person to another; therefore ‘passing on the flame’ is a less misleading translation.
14. This is where the text in Or.8210/S.2054, and the Taisho edition based on it,
begin. This is also where Cleary’s translation begins. The reference in this passage
to ‘entering the state of purity’ and to relics implies the death of Xuanze; this is not
in chronological order, as the following passages (which are written in the third
person and may have been interpolated here) discuss how Jingjue and Xuanze met.
15. Zhongzong, fourth ruler of the Tang dynasty, ruled in 684 and again in 705–10.
Zhongzhong’s wife was the Empress Wei, Jingjue’s sister. The Jinglong era is
707–10, so this passage describes events after the death of Shenxiu in 706.
16. While guīyī ↨‫ ׍‬usually means ‘to take refuge’, here it makes more sense to read
guī in its basic meaning ‘to return (something)’. The second character may be a
scribal hypercorrection.
17. Faure’s translation (1989: 91) is somewhat different here: ‘Il répandit alors sa
méthode de dhyana dans la capitale de l’est. Sur-le-champ, j’allai prendre refuge
auprès de lui, et le servis avec zèle. Voilà bien dix ans que je fis va-et-vient entre
les deux capitales pour le consulter. Depuis lors, la terre de mon esprit, que je lui
soumettais, a été soudain définitivement aplanie.’
18. This part of the preface is written in the third person, and somewhat overlaps
with the previous (first-person) account. I have inserted the name of Xuanze in
the second and third paragraphs as his name is not repeated in the Chinese text.
19. Here, ‘categories’ translates xiàng ⴨, which renders the Sanskrit Buddhist term
laks ̣an ̣a. These are the characteristics that we attribute to reality, which have no
existence in and of themselves. In Buddhist translations, xiàng / laks ̣an ̣a is vari-
ously translated as ‘characteristics’, ‘marks’, ‘qualities’ and ‘names’. In addition,
here ‘knowing’ translates zhī ⸕, which could also be translated as ‘perceiving’.
20. Thusness is a translation of the Chinese zhēnrúⵏྲ,which renders the Sanskrit
Buddhist term tathātā. In the Masters of the Lanka, it is sometimes shortened to
rú ྲ, especially in metrical passages.
21. ‘Nature of reality’ is a loose translation of fǎjiè ⌅⭼, the Sanskrit equivalent
being dharmadhātu.
22. The Arising of Faith in the Mahayana, attributed to Aśvaghos ̣a. The quotation is
from T.32, no. 1666, p. 576a8–13 (also no. 1668, p. 605b3–9). The beginning of
the same passage is in no. 1667, p. 584c7–8. This quote is from the beginning of
the first chapter of Arising of Faith in the Mahayana, which explains mind in its
ultimate aspect.
218 n o t e s t o p p. 9 7 – 1 0 0
23. Here and in most cases elsewhere, I have translated zhì Ც as ‘wisdom’, the
Sanskrit equivalent being jñāna.
24. This passage is also from Arising of Faith in the Mahayana: T.32, no. 1666,
p. 579a12–13.
25. From T.17, no. 670, p. 497a22 and a23 (with some intervening lines omitted).
26. In this passage following the list of the five dharmas, ‘mind’ is clearly being
used as a synonym for the third dharma, ‘delusion’. This passage draws on
the discussion of the five dharmas in the Laṅkāvatāra LXXXIII; they are a
way of categorizing how the mind functions, moving from its ordinary func-
tioning in samsara to its awakened state. See the translation in Red Pine
2006: 247.
27. Source not found. The same quote appears in Xuzangjing 63, no. 1231, as ‘an
ancient saying’: gù yún ᭵Ӂ . It also appears (unattributed) in a lecture of Mazu;
see Ferguson 2011: 75. The ‘seal of the single dharma’ is related to the concept of
the ‘seals of three dharmas’, which are impermanence, nonself and nirvana. The
‘single dharma’, which includes and transcends these three, is ultimate reality,
mind’s true nature, emptiness.
28. Here Jingjue seems to be saying that he chose the life of solitude and contempla-
tion in the mountains over the life of society and politics in the valleys.
29. Instead of ‘found’ (huò ⦢), Taisho and S.2054 have quán ℺, ‘temporarily’.
30. From T.14, no. 475, p. 538c4–5. In the first line, the the canonical sutra has
jìngtǔ ␘൏, ‘pure land’. The manuscripts of the Masters of the Lanka actually have
jìngdù ␘ᓖ, ‘pure salvation/perfection’. This near-homonym is probably a
scribal variant or error.
31. ‘Grasping’ here translates pānyuán ᬰ㐓, literally ‘to grasp at conditions’.
Elsewhere in the Masters of the Lanka, the Tibetan translator chose the Tibetan
word yan lag, which refers only to the conditions, not the grasping. In Tibetan
translations of Chinese scriptures, such as the Gangottara-paripr ̣cchā sūtra, the
Tibetan term used is dmigs, meaning ‘to fixate’ or ‘objectify’; my thanks to
Jonathan Silk for this information.
32. The passage from ‘in truth, mind does not exist’ to ‘In thusness there are no . . .’
is missing from Or.8210/S.2054 and Taisho.
33. ‘The end of the path’ here is a translation of zhì dào 㠣䚃, which is a synonym for
enlightenment and the ultimate truth.
34. ‘Truly real’ is shí shí ሄሄ which appears in S.3436. The character is mistran-
scribed in Taisho as hán ሂ ‘cold’.
35. From T.9, no. 262, p. 10a4–5 (verse section).
36. ‘Intrinsic nature’ (zìxìng 㠚ᙗ, Skt svabhāva) refers to things having an essential
nature that is not dependent on anything else; this is what is refuted by the
argments for emptiness, and is considered to be completely nonexistent (‘empty’)
and useless as a concept (‘idle’).
37. The path to awakening (pútí dào 㨙ᨀ䚃) can be translated simply as ‘awak-
ening’. Sanskrit equivalents are bodhi-mārga and bodhi-patha.
38. The phrase ‘enters where there is no gap’ is from chapter 3 of the Daodejing.
39. Compare the line from the famous verse attributed to Huineng in the Platform
Sutra: ‘Originally there is not a single thing’, běnlái wú yī wù ᵜֶ❑а⢙.
40. This is a reference to the general belief in the gradual decline of the Buddha’s
teachings. In Tang dynasty China many believed that they were in an era in which
what remained of the Buddha’s teachings was a mere semblance.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 0 0 – 1 0 6 219
41. ‘Essential emptiness’ (tı̌kōng 億オ) is distinguished from ‘analytical emptiness’

(xīkōng ᷀オ). The former is emptiness as the essential nature of all things, while
the latter is emptiness as the result of intellectual analysis. This is similar to the
twofold distinction of the ultimate truth in the works of Bhāvavikeka and the
Tibetan Madhyāmikas who followed him; see van Schaik 2016: 83. The term
‘essence’ (tı̌) is important in Chinese Buddhist and non-Buddhist philosophy.
The Tibetan translator renders it with ngo bo nyid, which is also usually translated
into English as ‘essence’.
42. ‘Emptiness and function’ translates kōngyòng オ⭘. This dyad is similar to the
more common tı̌yòng 億⭘, ‘essence and function’, which describes the relation-
ship between the true nature of things and phenomenal reality, and is found in
many important early Chinese philosophical texts, including the Yijing, Liji and
Mencius.
43. ‘Inherently existent’ is Chinese zìyǒu 㠚ᴹ. Like zixing this translates the Sanskrit
Buddhist term svabhāva, which means to exist independent of any cause or
condition. In Mahayana Buddhist thought, nothing can exist in this way, there-
fore nothing has a svabhāva.
44. The title used here, Fangguang jing, usually refers to the Perfection of Wisdom in
25,000 Verses (Pañcavim ̣ śati-sāhasrikā-prajñāpāramitā sūtra). However, this
passage is not found in the canonical texts.
̣ abhadra: introducing the Laṅkāvatāra

chapter 8. gun
1. In a study of the Sam ̣ yuktāgama sūtra, which was translated by Gun ̣abhadra, the
authors note that the translation was actually a collaborative effort, in which
Gun ̣abhadra recited the text while three Chinese monks interpreted it. This was
soon after his arrival in China, so he may have played a more active role in trans-
lation in later efforts, such as the Laṅkāvatāra. See Glass and Allon 2007: 38–9.
As the authors point out, it is interesting to consider whether a manuscript was
used as the basis for this translation (and others), or Gun ̣abhadra’s recitation of
his memorized version was the primary source.
2. This account and translation are from Stevenson 1987: 224.
3. See Mollier 2008 for a discussion of these practices, shared across Buddhist and
Daoist traditions.
4. Here, ‘senses’ translates chù 㲅, which means ‘location’, but in Buddhist (espe-
cially Yogācāra) texts it is also used to translate the Sanskrit āyatana, a technical
term for the site of perception (i.e. the eyes, ears and so on). The Sanskrit terms
for the sixth, seventh and eighth level of consciousness are mano-vijñāna, manas
(or klis ̣ ̣t a-manas) and ālaya (or ālaya-vijñāna).
5. For a detailed study of these processes as described in the scriptures and treatises
of Yogācāra, see Brown 1991.
6. In another metaphor that strikingly resembles Huineng’s criticism of Shenxiu’s
teaching in the Platform Sermon, Gun ̣abhadra compares taking the idea of a path
and goal literally to polishing a mirror, not realizing that it is reflective by nature:
‘beneath the dust that rests on the mirror’s surface, the mirror itself is always
clean and bright’.
7. It is interesting to see that the Tibetan translator rendered the Chinese niànfó
ᘥ֋here straightforwardly with sangs rgyas bsam pa, meaning ‘to think of (or
perhaps visualize) the Buddha’.
220 n o t e s t o p p. 1 0 7 – 1 1 0
8. A tripit ̣aka master (Skt trepit ̣aka) is a title given to Buddhist scholars in honour
of their mastery of the three baskets (Skt tripit ̣aka) of sutra, vinaya and abhid-
harma. Gun ̣abhadra’s other honorary name Mahayana (Ch. Moheyan) was later
the name of the eighth-century Chinese Zen monk who was influential at the
Tibetan court.
9. Literally, ‘the language of the Song’.
10. The two vehicles are usually the vehicles of the hearers (Skt śrāvaka) and
solitary buddhas (Skt pratyekabuddha), considered lower than the vehicle of the
bodhisattvas; together they form the hinayana. Therefore it would make more
sense for this sentence to read ‘the hinayana, that is, the two vehicles’. However,
the Chinese reads ‘the hinayana and the two vehicles’ and the Tibetan translation
supports this.
11. In the second half of this sentence, I have followed the version in the Tibetan
translation (van Schaik 2015: 79). The Chinese is ‘to gain visions of all things, to
divine good and bad fortunes of other people’s households’. This reference
to other people’s households is repeated below, and therefore may have resulted
from a scribal error at some point in the transmission of the Chinese text.
12. ‘Sorcerers’ translates xiángfú 䱽Կ; W.E. Soothill’s Dictionary of Chinese Buddhist
Terms defines this as ‘abhicāraka, exorciser; magic; subjugator (of demons)’.
13. In the Tibetan translation, the first half of the sentence is ‘If their faculties are not
ripe’ (dbang po ma smyin na). The Tibetan adds at the end of the sentence: ‘So
what need is there even to speak of those whose minds are full of doubt?’ (van
Schaik 2015: 80).
14. T.16, no. 670, p. 481c2.
15. This is a reference to the levels of consciousness – see my discussion in the intro-
duction to this chapter. Cleary’s translation (1986: 27) is aware of this but Faure’s
(1989: 106) is not and thus misinterprets the sentence. The Tibetan translation
is significantly different here: ‘When there is ignorance about the hundred, then
there are a hundred. When there is knowledge about the hundred, there is only
one’ (see van Schaik 2015: 80–1, where my previous translation somewhat
misinterprets the Tibetan).
16. There is a similar line in the canonical Avatam ̣ saka: ‘Therefore, of all the
dharmas no two perceive each other’ (T.9, no. 278, p. 427a09). Thanks to Imre
Galambos for this reference. See also T.8, no. 221, p. 105c2–3, and no. 223,
p. 363c13.
17. The context here is probably the four levels of meditation in the Lan ̣kāvatāra:
1. the meditation of ordinary people – meditation on the nonself of persons,
suffering, impermanence and impurity;
2. meditation that investigates the nature of things – meditation on the nonself
of dharmas;
3. meditation on thusness;
4. the tathāgata meditation.
18. The Tibetan translation (see van Schaik 2015: 82) has a different caveat: ‘but
since this is a way of being (sattva) that is skilled in ordinary mental states, it is
not the mind of enlightenment (bodhicitta)’.
19. Mind as luminosity (Skt prabhā/prabhāsvarā) is a recurring theme in several
Mahayana sutras, including the As ̣ ̣t asāhasrikā Prajñāpāramitā – see Kapstein
2004: 124. Note that the references to light in the Masters of the Lanka do not
n o t e s t o p p. 1 1 0 – 1 1 2 221
appear to be in scholastic, metaphorical mode. The sense here is that the mind is
manifest and active, yet not material, and therefore it is unobstructed.
20. The text in fact has ‘The ordinary person and the noble one are different’,
which does not make sense in this context. Therefore I am reading wéi yì ⛪⮠
as wú yì ❑⮠.
21. T.16, no. 670, p. 480b6–8.
22. The ‘great path’ is dàdào བྷ䚃, which appears in Confucian and Daoist literature.
In Buddhist sources it can translate the Sanskrit mahāpatha, meaning ‘great road’
or ‘high road’, found in Udānavarga, Ratnāvali, Abhisamayalaṅkara and other
Buddhist sources.
23. The Tibetan translation has: ‘If one sees or hears written letters or spoken words
as manifold as atoms or grains of sand, one will turn back toward the path of
samsara’ (see van Schaik 2015: 82).
24. The text here is similar to Kumarajiva’s translation: T.15, no. 650, p. 760b1–2.
The sutra exists in both Sanskrit and Tibetan. The Sanskrit is from a Central
Asian manuscript (incomplete) dating from around the fifth century; see
Braarvig 2000.
25. The term dàyòng བྷ⭘, meaning ‘great activity’ (or ‘great functioning’), is seen
in early Chinese literature including the Shiji and Zhuangzi – see Sharf 2002:
207–8. According to DDB (Muller), the term continues in later Zen biographical
literature:
Commonly seen in Chan records when referring to the words and deeds
of a greatly enlightened master . . . Thus, in this Chan application, the
term often refers to the carrying out of such mundane activities as chop-
ping firewood and carrying water.
26. This is a reference to the fourth of the five paths, the path of cultivation
(bhāvanā-patha). The Tibetan translation appears to miss this reference and has
‘cultivation of the dharma path’ instead.
27. This is a variation on the common Buddhist phrase yīxíng yīqiè xíng а㹼а࠷
㹼, ‘one practice that includes all practices’. It is probably also a reference to the
single practice concentration discussed in Daoxin’s chapter above.
28. Instead of ‘animosity is extinguished forever’, the Tibetan has: ‘equanimity
towards enemies and friends’ (van Schaik 2015: 83).
29. This is a difficult line; I interpret the character fán 㑱 to have the rare meaning of
‘difficult, vexatious’ (Kroll 2015: 106), and the character yǔ 㠷 to be a mistake
for the similar-looking xīng 㠸, which can mean ‘prosper’ (with thanks to
Imre Galambos for the latter). This reading is close to the Tibetan translation,
which reads ‘no difference between flourishing (gso ba) and not flourishing’. The
same interpretation applies to the line immediately below: ‘When one is deeply
at peace through both trouble and prosperity’.
30. The title of this sutra refers to various canonical translations known as the
Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra. The first line occurs several times in Xuanzang’s
translation (T.7, no. 220, p. 569a4, c6, p. 570b2 and p. 571a3). However, the
quote in general seems to be a paraphrase or alternative translation of the
Avatam ̣ saka, T.10, no. 279, p. 9b29–c2. See also T.8, no. 223, p. 324b18–20.
31. T.9, no. 278, p. 443a6.
32. T.15, no. 586, p. 56a13–15. Faure (1989: 110, n.40) states that this sutra is
frequently cited in Chan texts, including Shenxiu’s Five Skilful Means.
222 n o t e s t o p p. 1 1 2 – 1 1 5
33. This text was not identified by Faure or, before him, Yanagida (Faure 1989: 110,
n.41). Yanagida suggested that it could be an oral transmission related to
Gun ̣abhadra. The end of the quotation is not marked in the text itself; however,
there is a column break in Pelliot chinois 3436 that suggests it may be at the point
I have chosen here.
34. These are the four attributes of the dharmakaya, as propounded in Mahayana
sources which discuss the tathāgatagarbha, including the Śrīmālā Sūtra, the
Nirvana Sutra and the Ratnagotravibhāga. The four attributes are the positive
complements of the features of samsara: impermanence, suffering, nonself and
impurity. On the role of the four attributes in Zen and particularly Zongmi’s writ-
ings, see Gregory 2002: 218–23.
35. S.2054 and the Taisho version have: ‘The Laṅkāvatāra sūtra of the Great
Teacher’. However, Pelliot chinois has yún Ӂ instead of zhī ѻ, which gives the
reading I use here.
36. Compare the instructions on mindfulness of the Buddha in Daoxin’s teachings
(chapter 12 above), which is very similar; this instruction probably comes from
Daoxin’s time rather than Gun ̣abhadra’s.
37. The Tibetan translation of this chapter ends here.
38. Pelliot chinois 3436 has fǎ ⌅ (‘dharma’) instead of cı̌ ↔ (‘this’); that version is
followed by Cleary’s and Faure’s translations.
39. My translation here differs from Faure (1989: 111) and the passage is missing in
Cleary (1986: 31). The key here is the character zhēng ᗥ, one of the meanings
of which is ‘look into, examine the situation; interrogate’ (Kroll 2015: 601). The
sentence seems to refer to a teaching practice attributed here to Gun ̣abhadra –
approaching or pointing out a nearby object and asking questions about it.
40. These are everyday objects: the jar (or water bottle) is one of the monk’s accesso-
ries; the pillar is a feature of the monastery. I give a tentative translation of huǒ xuè
⚛イ as ‘fire pit’ because this fits with the other domestic objects mentioned by
Gun ̣abhadra. However, I cannot incorporate the following character, shān ኡ,
‘mountain’. Cleary (1986: 31) has ‘Can you go through a mountain?’ Faure,
following Yanagida, reads this character as part of the next sentence, but has diffi-
culty explaining the meaning of ‘mountain staff’ (1989: 113, n.49). I would break
the lines so that the next phrase reads ‘Can’t this staff explain the dharma?’ This
phrase appears to be out of place here, belonging with Gun ̣abhadra’s questions a
little further on. In general, the order of these questions appears a bit haphazard, and
one question is missing from Or.8210/S.2054. This suggests that they may have
been annotations to earlier versions of the text that were copied into later versions.
41. This is a deliberate reversal of the usual metaphor of the body as vessel for the
mind.
42. This line is missing in Taisho, taken from Pelliot chinois 3436. Note again these
are everyday objects around the monastic teacher and students.
chapter 9. bodhidharma: sudden and gradual

1. Translation based on McRae 1986: 17 and Dumoulin 1988: I.87. Dumoulin
notes that this passage was first pointed out by Paul Pelliot.
2. Though many scholars accept that he was a direct student of Bodhidharma,
Broughton (1999: 53) states that it is more likely that Tanlin was a student of
Huike.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 1 5 – 1 1 9 223
3. Broughton 1999: 54.

4. The Chinese versions of the Masters of the Lanka all state that Bodhidharma
arrived at Wuyue. The Wuyue region was on the eastern coast of China. The
Tibetan translation of the Masters of the Lanka, on the other hand, does not
mention Wuyue and has instead Sang-chu, which might be Hangzhou (van
Schaik 2015: 84).
5. These dates fit with the account of Bodhidharma’s visit to Yongning monastery,
which would have been between 516 and 526 (dates from McRae 1986: 17). A
century later the monk Daoxuan wrote about Bodhidharma in his Further
Biographies of Eminent Monks, stating that he travelled to southern China,
arriving during the Liu Song dynasty (420–79). This dating is earlier than
Tanlin’s and accords less well with the Masters of the Lanka and other early
sources, unless Bodhidharma spent decades in southern China before travelling
north. Interestingly, in the Masters of the Lanka it is Gun ̣abhadra who arrives in
southern China during the Liu Song dynasty. It almost seems that Daoxuan,
though writing before the Masters of the Lanka, conflated the stories of
Gun ̣abhadra and Bodhidharma – perhaps informed by the emerging tradition
which associated Bodhidharma with the Lankāvatāra sūtra.
6. Adamek 2007: 311. Adamek suggests two sources in the sutras that may have
served as an inspiration for this story. Interestingly, a Tibetan version of the same
story appears alone in a compendium of Tibetan Zen texts; see van Schaik 2015:
71–2.
7. See Broughton 1999 for a translation and excellent study of this compendium.
8. John McRae (2003: 30) writes of bìguān ໱㿰 that ‘ultimately no one really
knows what the term means’. See also McRae’s earlier, more lengthy discussion in
McRae 1986: 112–15, where he argues that the ‘wall’ may be metaphorical, as in
one’s mind being like a wall. It is interesting, though probably not relevant, that
there is a homophone, bìguān 䮹䰌, which means literally ‘to shut the gates’ but
is used in the Buddhist context to refer to a meditation retreat. If this was
Bodhidharma’s original phrase, one would have to argue that it was misunder-
stood at a very early stage in the copying of the Two Entrances and Four Practices.
9. On techniques of meditation in Buddhism, from the Pali sources, see Shaw 2014:
21–3, and elsewhere. The word ‘kas ̣ina’ is Pali, the Sanskrit being kr ̣tsnāya.
10. See for example Anacker 2005: 282, n.48. McRae (1986: 306, n.21) mentions
that the connection between wall gazing and the kas ̣ina was made in a paper by
Lü Ch’eng. Heinrich Dumoulin (1988: I.18) does not connect the kas ̣ina objects
with wall gazing, but mentions the similarity of a practice observed in later
century Chinese Zen: ‘Among the masters of the Igyō sect of Chinese Zen we
encounter the practice of “circular figures”, which is related to the practice of
kas ̣ina.’
11. McRae 2003: 30–1.
12. Here, ‘thusness’ is translating Sanskrit tathātā, ‘ultimate truth’ is paramārtha and
‘the nature of things’ is dharmatā.
13. See Ziporyn 2003: 503. The character lı̌ ⨶ is translated as ‘reason’ in Red Pine
(1987: 3) and Baroni (2002: 361). The Tibetan translator of the Masters of the
Lanka chose to translate lı̌ with Tibetan gzhung, a word that is equally difficult to
translate into English, but at this time carried the meanings of ‘original’, ‘funda-
mental’, ‘central’ and ‘source’. In other Tibetan Zen texts, gzhung can also mean
scriptures (as in original or fundamental source texts), but that does not apply
224 n o t e s t o p p. 1 1 9 – 1 2 5
here; see van Schaik 2015: 123. In any case, it seems to be a mistake to translate
lı̌ in Bodhidharma’s text as ‘reason’.
14. This topic has been explored in detail in a series of lectures by Johannes
Bronkhorst (Bronkhorst 2011).
15. The Tibetan translation goes into more detail about how Bodhidharma assessed
the monks in a single day and then taught them the four practices; see van Schaik
2015: 84.
16. ‘Bodhidharma said to Huike’ is not in the Tibetan and somewhat contradicts the
previous line’s statement that he taught the two monks together.
17. The Further Biographies of Eminent Monks (Xu Gaosengzhuan) is a collection of
biographies of Buddhist monks compiled by the monk Daoxuan (596–667). It is
a continuation of the Gaosengzhuan which was compiled in the Liang period
(502–57).
18. What follows is extracted from Tanlin’s text, found in Xuzangjing vol. 63,
no. 1217.
19. Literally ‘Brahmin king’, which is an oxymoron in the Indian caste system;
however, in many Chinese sources all Indian teachers are called ‘Brahmin’.
20. Here, ‘inner and outer’ probably means ‘Buddhist and non-Buddhist’.
21. Literally, ‘Han Wei’. Faure translates this as ‘[la région de] la Han et [de] la Wei’. I
have taken the second character to refer to a dynasty, as it does at the beginning
of the chapter. As discussed in the introduction to this chapter, Bodhidharma’s
main teaching activities are said to have been carried out in the city of Ye, which
was the capital of the Eastern Wei, a Turkic dynasty, during this period.
22. The character shì ༛ means ‘elite’, and more specifically, ‘the nobility’. It is also
in the Tibetan as dra ma, which means ‘the elite’, in terms of the nobility, the
learned or simply those who excel.
23. Note that here the first entrance is linked to the practice of wall gazing.
24. This translation, similar to Cleary (1986: 33), is based on a medieval-period
meaning of zhuó 㪇, ‘make use of, ply’; see Kroll 2015: 620.I.
25. This is the end of Tanlin’s preface (Xuzangjing vol. 63, no. 1217, p. 7a06), which
has ‘the above is a brief outline’.
26. Here ‘guiding principle’ is zōng ᇇ. In the Tibetan this is translated with gzhung,
the same word used to translate lı̌ ⨶, ‘principle’.
27. Here, instead of bì ໱ (‘wall’), S.2054 and Taisho have bì 䗏, which seems to be
a mistake.
28. This term yuànxíng ᙘ㹼, ‘retribution for past wrongdoing’, appears in the
Analects of Confucius and elsewhere in early Chinese literature. In the Analects
(Xian wen, 34) it refers to the question of how to respond to somebody who has
hurt you; Confucius responds, not through kindness, but through justice. The
term also appears in Buddhist translations, for Skt pratyapakāra and vaira-
nipīd ̣ana. In the context of this text, it is a contemplation of the fact that bad
things that happen in one’s life are the result of one’s own previous non-virtuous
actions, more informally known as ‘payback’.
29. Literally, suíyuán 䳘㐓 is ‘according to conditions’ or ‘in dependence’. This is
translated by Cleary (1986: 34) as ‘going along with the causal nexus’, by Red
Pine (1987: 5) as ‘adapting to conditions’ and by Faure (1989: 118) as ‘être en
accord avec les conditions’. I suggest that these translations all miss the point.
The contemplation described in the text itself is that all occurrences of happiness
and sorrow arise and pass away based on causes and conditions, i.e. dependent
n o t e s t o p p. 1 2 5 – 1 2 6 225
arising (the usual Chinese term, yuánshēng 㐓⭏, is used in the text of the
contemplation itself). Therefore this is a contemplation of the doctrine that
everything occurs through the process of dependent arising, rather than an
injunction to ‘go with the flow’ as the other translations imply.
30. I have added the word ‘contemplating’ in the titles of the first and second prac-
tices to clarify that ‘retribution for past wrongdoings’ and ‘dependence’ are the
subjects of contemplation, as is clear in the description of the practice itself.
31. This sutra has not been identified by Faure. A very similar line, with a different
fourth character but the same meaning, is found in the Dīrghāgama, T.1, no. 1,
p. 7a06: féng kǔ bùqī 䙒㤖нឬ ‘when you meet with suffering, do not sorrow’.
And the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra, T.374, no. 374, p. 548b29 has féng kǔ bùqī
䙒㤖нᡊ , ‘when you meet with suffering, do not be sad’. Given its influence in
early Chan teachings, the latter is probably the source. Previous translations
consider the quote to be continued in the next few lines, but four characters
appear to be the full quotation; thus what follows them is Bodhidharma’s expla-
nation. Incidentally, the same line appears, though not as a citation, in T.2016,
p. 939c11. This is a later work, the Zongjing lu, compiled by the Five Dynasties
Chan figure Yongming Yanshou (904–76).
32. This translation, also in Faure (1989: 118), is based on a rare meaning of tı̌ 億:
‘realize, comprehend’ (Kroll 2015: 449). The Tibetan, on the other hand, has
‘angry thoughts do not occur and one yearns for the dharma path’.
33. The second half of this sentence is a little unclear in the Chinese versions; on the
other hand, the Tibetan translation is clear: ‘mind and the path are in accord’.
While S.2054 has tōng 䙊 (‘pass through; communicate’) as the final character,
this is clearly a mistake for dào 䚃 (‘path’), which is the final character in Pelliot
chinois 3436; this matches the Tibetan. However, the Chinese has ‘profound’
rather than ‘mind’ – thus ‘profoundly in accord with the path’.
34. The Tibetan has, more specifically, ‘to the five objects of desire’ (’dod pa lnga).
35. I interpret zhēn lı̌ ⵏ⨶ as ‘true principle’ here, following the Tibetan (yang dag
pa’i gzhung). Though this is a common Buddhist term, previous editions and
translations do not read the characters together, splitting them across two
sentences instead in order to preserve the metre. Also, I take jí ৺ to belong to the
beginning of the next sentence, a preposition roughly meaning ‘when the time
comes’ or ‘once . . .’ (Kroll 2015: 184).
36. This is a difficult line to interpret, and previous translations vary. Faure (1989:
118) has ‘et abandon le corps à son sort’. Cleary (1986: 35) has ‘changing
shape as they go’. Red Pine (1987: 5) has ‘let their bodies change with the
seasons’. The characters suí yùn zhuǎn 䳘䙻䕹 denote tractability, pliability
and proceeding with ease; thus the general idea appears to be that an unchanging
peace of mind allows the body to be adaptable and flexible. This is a
continuation of the previous sentence about applying the true principle to
worldly life.
37. Faure (1989: 119, n.24), quoting Yanagida, points out that ‘good and bad’ (or
more literally, ‘Merit and Darkness’) may be a reference to the names of two gods
in the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra.
38. Source not found, though it could be a paraphrase of T.1, n.49, where these two
phrases appear several times.
39. The translation of this practice has varied depending on how translators have
taken the character ち – either as chèn, ‘accord with’ or as chēng, ‘praise’ (the
226 n o t e s t o p p. 1 2 6 – 1 3 1
former is more common). The essence of the practice is to see the principle in all
phenomena, because the true nature of phenomena, as empty, is the principle.
40. This is the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa sūtra, T.14, no. 475, p. 540a4–5.
41. These are the six impurities of vexation, harm, resentment, flattery, deception
and haughtiness.
42. Tibetan has ‘body, life and possessions’.
43. The three aspects are the emptiness of the giver, the gift and the recipient. My
translation of this passage is informed by the way the Tibetan breaks up the
sentences, which is different from previous translations.
44. Here ‘scroll’ translates juàn ধ (more technically rendered as ‘fascicle’) and ‘sheets’
translates zhı̌ ㍉. Chinese scrolls were made by pasting together rectangular sheets
of paper. ‘Bodhidharma Treatise’ is Damo Lun. On the texts attributed to
Bodhidharma from the Dunhuang manuscript collections, see Broughton 1999.
45. The Tibetan translation of this chapter ends here.
46. The term yúnwù 䴢䵗, here and in the next chapter, refers to a kind of cloud
canopy, an overcast sky.
47. T.12, no. 374, p. 572a4–5.
chapter 10. huike: the buddha within

1. This appears towards the end of the chapter, just before the long quote from the
Avatam ̣ saka sūtra, rather than in the biographical note at the beginning.
2. The Anthology of Literary Texts (Yiwen leiju) is one of the earliest examples of
Chinese anthologies which present excerpts from texts arranged by subject
matter. It was compiled over three years after a commission from the emperor
Gaozu in 622 (Choo 2015: 454); though Endymion Wilkinson (2000: 602–3)
gives the date of publication as either 604 or 624. The first phrase – ‘though
ice appears in water, it is able to stop water’ – is very similar to one in the Yiwen
leiju (vol. 9, shuı̌ bù xià, bīng 6): ‘Though ice appears in water, it is colder
than water.’ The original source of this phrase is a work attributed to the sage
Xunzi (third century bc), which contains the line, ‘Blue is taken from dark
blue but it is bluer than dark blue; as for ice, it is water that produces it, yet it is
colder than water.’ The second phrase – ‘When ice melts, water flows’ – is similar
to another line quoted in the Yiwen leiju (vol. 3, shí shàng, chūn 46): ‘The ice
melts, causing a subtle flow.’ The phrase could also be an allusion to the words
in the Daodejing (15) on the nature of the ancient sages: ‘Loose like ice about
to melt.’
3. The metaphor is also known in the Tibetan tradition, coming via the songs of the
mahāsiddha Saraha; my thanks to Lama Jampa Thaye for this information. See
the ‘Royal Song’ (Do ha mdzod ces bya ba spyod pa’i glu), v.17, my translation:
When water is struck and stirred by the wind,
Though water is soft, it takes the form of stone.
When concepts stir up confusion, though it has no form,
It becomes very hard and solid.
In the Dzogchen tradition, the metaphor appears in a popular text by Jigme
Lingpa (1730–98), in which the basis of consciousness (ālaya) is likened to
water, and the emergence of grasping consciousness (ālaya-vijñāna) is similar to
ice on water (van Schaik 2004: 163).
n o t e s t o p p. 1 3 1 – 1 3 4 227
4. See Wang and Ding 2010: 47–50. They write (p. 47): ‘Zhang zai illustrates the
interlocking of taixu and qi by again using the comparison of water and ice. Ice is
solid or coalesced water just as taixu is coalesced qi.’
5. The passage is by Liu Yiming (1734–1821), translated in Cleary 2006: 13.
6. Translation in Tanahashi 2015: 96.
7. Beck 1995: 32.
8. This passage, like most Bruce Lee quotes, can be found in different forms in
many places, especially on the internet. The quote in its original context, an essay
on Jeet Kune Do, can be found in Little 2001: 121.
9. Though the influence of Daoism on Chinese Buddhism, and Zen in particular, is
often mentioned, the picture was more complex. Daoism and Buddhism devel-
oped alongside each other in China, and the influence of Buddhism on organized
Daoism was considerable, as scholars such as Christine Mollier (2008: 7) have
shown:
Buddhism not only deeply affected traditional Chinese religious life and
mentality, but it also operated as a trigger for the native religion. Taoism
owes part of the formation of its identity, as a fully structured and organ-
ized religion, to its face-to-face encounter with Mahāyāna Buddhism. In
response to the sophisticated eschatological and soteriological concepts
imported by its foreign rival, Taoist theologians had to formulate and
define their own ideas of the after-life and human destiny, of moral
precepts and ethical principles.
10. The city of Ye is near Lingzhang, Henan, and was important in this period (see
Zürcher 2007: 181). Instead of Ye, the Tibetan states that Huike travelled to
Tsang chu. The (Northern) Qi dynasty ruled from 550 to 577.
11. This sentence is not in the Tibetan translation.
12. The single vehicle (Ch. yīshèng а҈, Skt ekayāna), as taught in several Mahayana
sutras, is a way of condensing all the teachings of the Buddha, usually categorized
in three vehicles, into a single path. In the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra LVI, the Buddha says
that he teaches three vehicles because beings are different, but ultimately there is
only a single vehicle, which is thusness:
When I speak of the one path, I mean the one path to realization. And
what does the one path to realization mean? Projections, such as projec-
tions of what grasps or what is grasped, do not arise in suchness. This is
what the one path to realization means.
Translation in Red Pine 2013: 163.
13. The path of cultivation is the fourth of the five paths. This sentence can be read
as referring to Huike’s achievements or his teachings. The Tibetan translator
(van Schaik 2015: 88) and Faure (1989: 124) take them as referring to Huike’s
achievements; however, it seems to me to make more sense to read them as intro-
ducing the following teaching by Huike that takes up the bulk of this chapter, as
Cleary (1986: 38) does.
14. T.16, no. 670, p. 480b9–10. The line is from Mahāmāti’s verses of praise to
Śākyamuni at the beginning of chapter II.
15. ‘Sitting meditation’ (Ch. zuòchán ඀⿚) is the usual way of referring to medita-
tion practice in most later Zen traditions ( Japanese Zen uses the same characters,
pronounced ‘zazen’). It does not feature prominently elsewhere in the Masters of
228 n o t e s t o p p. 1 3 4 – 1 3 6
the Lanka, except in Daoxin’s teachings for beginners, which starts, ‘When you
are beginning the practice of sitting meditation . . .’ (see chapter 13 above). In the
present case, the Tibetan translator simply translates zuòchán the same way as
chán, i.e. with bsam gtan, ‘meditation’.
16. Only the first line is found in the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra: T.9, no. 278, p. 624a14 and
T.10, no. 279, p. 272c24. As Faure points out, the first six lines are similar to
T.48, no. 2011, p. 377a24–26, which is also ostensibly a quotation from the
Daśabhūmika sūtra. The last line of the quote (‘So sentient beings cannot see
it’) is actually from the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra (T.12, no. 374, p. 523c20). The
phrase ‘vajra buddha’ (jīngāng fó 䠁ࢋ֋) is not in any of these texts, and is
more associated with esoteric Buddhism. However, it can be an epithet of the
buddha Vairocana, which is probably the case here.
17. T.9, no. 278, p. 542c21.
18. The passage from ‘and not seen’ to ‘pure and unobscured’ is in the Tibetan trans-
lation, but missing from both Chinese manuscripts which contain the text of this
section (Or.8210/S.2054 and Pelliot chinois 3536). It seems to have been lost as
a scribal error, skipping from one instance of the phrase ‘sentient beings’ to the
next.
19. ‘Wrong views’ is literally ‘all views’ (zhū jiàn 䄨㾻, Skt sarvadr ̣ ̣s ̣t i); this phrase
refers to the various non-Buddhist philosophical schools. The ‘noble path’ (shèng
dào 㚆䚃, Skt āryamārga) is the path followed by the bodhisattva. According to
Muller (DDB), it is also a synonym for enlightenment and undefiled wisdom,
which seems to be the case here.
20. The Tibetan has ‘great wisdom’ rather than ‘great nirvana’, and adds ‘in harmony
with stillness’ at the end of the sentence; see van Schaik 2015: 89.
21. The sources of these two statements are not given here, but they are similar to
two texts quoted in the the Yiwen leiju. See the introduction to this chapter for
further details.
22. The passage from ‘But when delusion’ to ‘empty and pure’ is not present in the
Tibetan.
23. The character dēng ⟸ is usually translated as ‘lamp’ but here is better translated
as ‘candle’ or ‘flame’, as the word ‘lamp’ may bring to mind a covered lantern,
which would not be affected by the wind. In fact, the lamp in this analogy, and in
the image of the ‘transmission of the lamp’, would have been an ancient open
lamp, i.e. a bowl filled with oil with a wick in the middle. See Needham 1962:
78–80.
24. The Tibetan translation has a longer passage in place of ‘then all desires’ to
‘further rebirths’, as follows (van Schaik 2015: 89–90):
Thus, when sentient beings are aware of the radiant purity of mind, they
will be constantly merged with meditation. The blockages at the six gates
will all flow, without being caught in the winds of error. Then the lamp of
insight will be radiantly pure and will distinguish one thing from another.
Thus buddhahood will be accomplished of itself, and the aspirations of
your previous practice will be fully realized. Henceforth, you do not see
the states of existence.
25. ‘All the buddhas of the three times’ refers to the buddhas of the past, present
and future, i.e. all buddhas that have ever existed, exist now or will exist in the
future.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 3 6 – 1 4 0 229
26. The context of this statement is that every sentient being has already existed in
the cycle of rebirth for an infinite amount of time, and therefore must already
have met countless buddhas.
27. The lines from ‘As the dharma scriptures say’ to ‘the ultimate path’ are only found
in the Tibetan translation; see van Schaik 2015: 90.
28. The phrase ‘the sun and moon in the world’ is from the Sutra of the Great
Conflagration (Daloutan jing, T.1, no. 23) translated by Fali and Faju during the
Western Jin dynasty. The sutra, which deals with cosmology, states that a very
long time after the destruction of the world, a black wind arose and blew deep
inside the ocean and took out the sun and moon and placed them on their
current path, which is how there is ‘the sun and moon in the world’. Thanks to
Imre Galambos for clarifying this.
29. The second part of the sentence is missing in the Chinese manuscripts; taken
from the Tibetan.
30. The lines from ‘It is also like when’ to ‘remains unspoilt’ are missing in Pelliot
chinois 3436, and thus are found only in Or.8210/S.2054. The last statement
(‘just so, after the succession of lives and deaths of sentient beings has come to an
end, the dharmakaya remains unspoilt’) appears twice, which may have been the
cause of eye-skip in the scribe of P.3436. This statement is not repeated in the
Tibetan translation.
31. From ‘I dispensed with’ to ‘who does this’ is only in the Tibetan translation; see
van Schaik 2015: 90–1.
32. The words ‘As an old book says’ appear only in the Tibetan translation; see van
Schaik 2015: 91. The phrase may have been accidentally omitted from the
Chinese texts becauseਔᴨᴠ (‘an old book says’) is graphically similar to what
appears in the text (in S.2054), i.e. ᭵᲍ᰕ (‘because all day’). Thanks to Imre
Galambos for pointing this out.
33. This line is difficult to interpret, and though my translation is different from both
Cleary’s (1986: 40–1) and Faure’s (1989: 127) interpretation, it accords with
both the Chinese and the Tibetan. The intended meaning seems to be that the
wrong kind of effort (i.e. in reading and study) only makes things worse.
34. T.9, no. 278, p. 429a3–4. Cleary (1986: 41) and Faure (1989: 128) do not
include the fourth line within the quote, though it is in the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra.
35. The statement about the buddhas’ teaching is similar to T.30, no. 1564, p. 24a1–2.
36. Literally, ‘a thousand follow from this one’.
37. T.9, no. 262, p. 42c14–15.
38. In this and the following lines, ‘absorption’ translates zhèngshòu ↓ਇ and ‘samadhi’
translates sānmèi й᱗ (which is the Chinese transliteration of the Sanskrit
samādhi). The Tibetan translator uses drang po tshor (‘direct attention’) for zhèng-
shòu and ting nge ’dzin, (which is the usual equivalent for Skt samādhi) for sānmèi.
39. Literally, ‘the dharma of form’, which means the form aggregate (Skt skāndha).
On the other hand, the Tibetan translation has ‘colour’.
40. ‘Concentration’ translates dìng ᇊ. The Tibetan translator uses an early term,
thub pa.
41. Literally, ‘the stages of learning and beyond learning’.
42. Literally, ‘one enlightened by contemplation of dependent arising’.
43. This long passage is from T.9, no. 278, p. 438b27–p. 439b3, with some omissions.
See also T.10, no. 279, p. 77c15–p. 78b29. Faure (1989: p. 130, n.32) points out
that this was a popular passage in Chinese Buddhism. The general message is that
230 n o t e s t o p p. 1 4 0 – 1 4 7
meditation on one object is the same as meditation on all objects, exemplified in

the line: ‘When you enter the state of absorption in a single mote of dust, /
Samadhi arises in all motes of dust.’
44. The final words, ‘the dharmakaya, the guiding principle’ are only in the Tibetan
translation; see van Schaik 2015: 92.
chapter 11. sengcan: heaven in a grain of sand

1. Adamek 2011: 81–2.
2. Ferguson 2011: 23.
3. Another version of the dialogue appears in the compendium known to contem-
porary scholars as the ‘Long Scroll’, in which Huike is named as the master, but
the one who asks for absolution is anonymous. See Broughton 1999: 42.
4. Translation from Ferguson 2011: 23.
5. By contrast, the Transmission of the Dharma Jewel does not record any details
about Sengcan’s death. Here, Sengcan retires to the south, and the author states
‘no-one ever knew where he ended up’ (translation in McRae 1986: 261).
6. The original text, Verses on Explaining the Hidden (Xiangxuanfu), is found in T.52,
no. 2103, p. 340a15–c9. See the discussion in Faure 1989: 134, n.10. Here, Faure
also mentions another text attributed to Sengcan called ‘Inscription on the Sprit
of Faith’ (T.48, no. 2010, p. 376b–377a), though he suggests caution in accepting
this attribution.
7. Both verses translated in Cleary 1993: 1462. For an excellent discussion of the
contents and context of the Gan ̣d ̣avyūha, see Osto 2009. The Gan ̣d ̣avyūha is
contained within a larger, composite sutra, the Avatam ̣ saka.
8. Cleary 1993: 1490.
9. The Huayan school, named for the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra, became increasingly wide-
spread during the Tang dynasty (though as I discuss elsewhere, ‘school’ should
not be taken to imply an institutional structure). Teachers of this tradition
explored similar themes to early Zen teachers, and in some cases belonged to
both traditions, Zongmi being the most prominent example.
10. These similes are given at more length in the Tibetan translation, which I have
drawn on here; see van Schaik 2015: 92.
11. In this sutra, the ‘one true way’ would normally refer to the single vehicle
(ekayāna). The Tibetan translator, however, translated the phrase as ‘mahayana’.
12. There is no exact correspondence in the sutra. Faure notes a similarity to T.9, no.
262, p. 8a18.
13. From ‘The Laṅkāvatāra’ to ‘never taught in words’ is only in the Tibetan transla-
tion; see van Schaik 2015: 93.
14. The Chinese literally says, ‘samsara is liberated’. I am following the Tibetan trans-
lator here.
15. Cleary (1986: 44) has ‘Nieshan temple’. The Tibetan translation has ‘Huanggong
temple’ (Tib. hwang kong).
16. In the following sections, the original passages of Huiming’s Verses on Explaining
the Hidden are given first, followed by Sengcan’s commentary (indented in the
translation here). Although the original text is quite short, the commentary here
is only on selected passages.
17. This line is missing two characters in S.2054 and Taisho, but the correct reading
is found in P.3436.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 4 7 – 1 5 4 231
18. Here all Chinese manuscripts actually have ‘the sutra says’, but this must be an
error. The Tibetan has ‘commentary’.
19. The character qì ಘ is usually translated as ‘vessel’, but can mean any formed
thing, and the simile in Sengcan’s text is rings and bracelets, not vessels.
20. The ‘precious palace’ is a reference to Indra’s palace, while the ‘jade tower’ is from
Chinese mythology, in the realm of the immortals.
21. Literally, ‘universal vision’ – the way of seeing of a buddha or bodhisattva.
22. The Tibetan translation has: ‘If you understand the true principle . . .’ (van Schaik
2015: 94).
23. The Chinese text is difficult to interpret here. Faure (1989: 135) has ‘sans éveiller
l’attention’. I have followed the Tibetan translation.
24. Compare T.52, no. 2103, p. 340c2–3.
25. ‘Concentration’ here is dìng ᇊ; however, the Tibetan translator chose bsam gtan,
which usually renders chán. In general, the Tibetan translation is not very
consistent when translating these terms; elsewhere dìng is rendered with Tib. mi
’gyur (‘unmoving’) and thub pa (‘wisdom’).
26. T.25, no. 1509, p. 234a19.
27. The relevance of this quote (T.16, no. 665, p. 409c24) is not entirely clear.
chapter 12. daoxin i: how to sit

1. McRae 1986: 262.
2. For example, Sharf (2014) has the title as Fundamental Expedient Teachings for
Calming the Mind to Enter the Way. The assumption that the current chapter of
the Masters of the Lanka represents a single text by Daoxin led John McRae
(1986: 142) to call it ‘repetitive and occasionally confusing’.
3. The title Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts translates pú sà jiè fǎ 㨙㯙ᡂ⌅. If
those characters are not read as a title, this could be translated as ‘a book of dharma
teachings [for] the bodhisattva precepts ceremony’. ‘Also composed’ is jí zhì ৺ࡦ
and ‘teachings for novices on methods for attaining peace of mind’ is rù dào ān xīn
yāo fāng biàn fǎ mén ‫ޕ‬䚃ᆹᗳ㾱ᯩ‫⌅ׯ‬䮰. Here, rù dào means ‘one who has
entered the path’ which in the Buddhist monastic context usually refers to novices.
4. Shuangfeng means ‘Twin Peaks’ (it was previously known as Potou, ‘Broken Top’).
5. T.16, no. 670, p. 481c2.
6. What Daoxin calls the Wisdom Sutra Taught by Mañjuśrī is the Saptaśatika
Prajñāpāramitā, i.e. the Perfection of Wisdom in 700 lines, of which two transla-
tions (T.8, no. 232 and T.233) existed in Daoxin’s time. What follows may be
taken as Daoxin’s summary of the passages of the Saptaśatika on the one practice
concentration.
7. From ‘If you’ to ‘single practice concentration’ is missing in Or.8210/S.2054 and
the Taisho edition.
8. See T.8, no. 232, p. 731a25–b9. The version in this text paraphrases the canonical
sutra.
9. In this line, ‘body and mind’ translates fāng cùn ᯩረ, literally ‘square inch’. In
contexts such as this, ‘square inch’ refers to the physical heart as the centre of a
human being’s body and mind. In Daoxin’s text (he uses the term again below) it
appears to refer more generally to the mental and physical bundle that makes up a
person. ‘The site of awakening’ is the bodhiman ̣d ̣a, where Śākyamuni achieved
enlightenment, and by extension, a place where the dharma is practised. In China,
232 n o t e s t o p p. 1 5 4 – 1 6 0
it was also used to refer to the platform on which the precepts were conferred. Here,
Daoxin is saying that every individual person is, at all times, a site of awakening.
10. See T.9, no. 277, p. 393b10–11. Faure (1989: 142) states that this sutra played an
important role in the development of the ceremonies of the bodhisattva vow.
11. ‘Judgements’ here translates jué guān 㿪㿰; these two characters are equivalent
to the Sanskrit vitarka and vicāra (DDB, Muller).
12. T.8, no. 223, p. 385c8.
13. This is the last line of the Tibetan translation of the Masters of the Lanka. Here,
S.2054 (and Taisho) inserts ‘has no shape’ again, which does not appear in
P.3436, so I have ignored it as a probable scribal error.
14. Note the similarity between this passage and the famous verse attributed to
Shenxiu in the Platform Sutra.
15. This quote is slightly different from what appears in the canonical sutras. The
first and third lines are both on T.9, no. 278, p. 623c28 and at T.10 no. 279,
p. 272c8; the middle line, with a different final character, is at no. 278, p. 624a9
and a10, and at no. 279, p. 272c18.
16. This sentence suggests a question and answer session in the course of a sermon;
though the character jiǎ ‫ ٷ‬would usually indicate a condition, and therefore a
rhetorical question from Daoxin (‘if someone were to ask . . .’), I take it here to
mean ‘concede, grant’ (Kroll 2015: 193), indicating Daoxin’s graciousness in
allowing questions from the younger members of the audience.
17. The text here has fǎxìng zhī shēn ⌅ᙗѻ䓛, literally Skt dharmatākāya.
18. The sphat ̣ika crystal is a colourless transparent stone. It is used in India for reli-
gious objects of devotion.
19. Compare the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra, T.16, no. 670, p. 506c7. On the other hand,
Faure (1989: p. 144, n.23) suggests a connection to the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra.
20. This quotation is from the Amitartha sūtra, T.9, no. 276, p. 385c23–26. Some
lines from the canonical sutra are omitted in the quotation. I have followed the
canonical version in the first four lines, as the version in the Masters of the Lanka
seems to be garbled.
21. Being all knowing or omniscienct (yīqiè zhìа࠷Ც) is one of the characteristics
of a buddha’s wisdom.
22. Literally, ‘the single-form dharma method’ (yīxiàng fǎménа⴨⌅䮰), this refers
to a teaching based in the principle of nonduality.
23. See T.9, no. 262, p. 8a23–24.
24. This seems not to be a direct quote, though the first line occurs verbatim
three times in T.9, no. 272, p. 349a29–b3. There is a similar metaphor in the
Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra: see T.12, no. 375, p. 617c2–10.
25. To have slandered the three jewels and disrupted the harmony of the sangha are
major violations of the monastic code. Here they stand for all negative actions in
this and previous lives, which prevent sentient beings from realizing the nature of
their minds.
26. This statement refers to the present context, the teaching on observing the mind.
A little further in the text, Daoxin does teach analysis of the body as a preliminary
practice.
27. T.9, no. 278, p. 672a27.
28. T.9, no. 278, p. 409b8–9.
29. Literally, ‘when there is no reliance’: bù yī н‫׍‬.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 6 0 – 1 6 3 233
30. In both manuscript copies this second quotation from the Avatam ̣ saka sūtra and
the following quotations from the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra appear slightly earlier,
in the discussion of different types of students, after the sentence ‘A person who
wants to be a teacher must be capable of recognizing these differences’, and before
the sentence ‘Among students there are four types of people’. However, it is clear
that the quotations relate to the discussion of the pure lands, not to the different
capacities of students. Thus they seem to have been copied into a slightly earlier
part of the text by mistake at some point in the manuscript transmission.
31. The stages of further progress are the second level (Skt bhūmi) of the bodhisattva
path.
32. See T.8, no. 235, p. 749a9, though the text is slightly different.
33. The path of practice (or ‘cultivation’) is the fourth of the five paths of progress for
a bodhisattva.
34. Probably a reference to the Heart Sutra’s famous phrase, ‘forms are nothing but
emptiness; emptiness is nothing but form’.
35. ‘Conditioned phenomena’ (yǒuwéi ᴹ⡢) refers to all of the phenomena of
samsara; here Daoxin is saying that even the written teachings of the Buddha are
conditioned phenomena, and one must realize for oneself the unconditioned
state to which they point.
36. The text continues, ‘Distressing: a great calamity.’ I suspect this may be an
explanatory gloss that has been copied into the main text.
37. The eye of the dharma (fǎ yǎn ⌅⵬; Skt dharmacaks ̣us) is the ability to perceive
all things clearly, and is one of the qualities a bodhisattva requires in order to aid
all sentient beings.
38. I have added ‘existent’ here, which seems to be missing from this sentence, as a
summary of the previous paragraph.
39. The text continues with a non-metrical line that may be another explanatory
gloss: ‘Ultimately they neither come into being nor cease to be.’
40. The adjectives ‘wise and compassionate’ (zhì mı̌n Ცឌ) may be read as the
personal name Zhimin. However, no such person has been identified. Chappell
(1983: 113) reads it as referring to Zhiyi (538–97), but there is no other
evidence that he was known as Zhimin. Faure (1989: 149, n.50) mentions Famin
(597–652), but this figure was a contemporary of Daoxin and does not qualify as
being from ‘earlier times’.
41. This sentence contains two key terms in early Chinese Buddhist discussions
of the mind. ‘Mind’s source’ (xīnyuán ᗳⓀ) refers to the true nature of mind,
which is experienced when one’s attention is turned upon mind itself; though
Daoxin does not discuss this, it is important to other instructions on the practice
of ‘observing the mind’ (see Meinert 2007: 12–15). The concept of essence and
activity (tı̌yòng 億⭘) goes back to early Chinese philosophy, and generally refers
to the difference between the true nature of things and how they appear to be;
see Cheng 2002.
42. See T.12, no. 366, p. 343a19. This is apparently a paraphrase rather than a direct
quote.
43. Faure translates as five ‘points’ but the character used here, zhǒng, specifically
means types or classes.
44. ‘Awareness’ is jué 㿪. See the discussion of this term in chapter 5 above. As I
mention there, this form of meditation seems to correspond to Daoxin’s instruc-
tions earlier in the text on observing the mind (kànxīn ⴻᗳ) and ‘letting it be’.
234 n o t e s t o p p. 1 6 3 – 1 6 7
45. The phrase ‘maintain oneness’ (shǒu yī ᆸа) may come from Daoism, as
argued in McRae (1986: 138–9) and Sharf (2002: 182–4). This text is one of its
earliest appearances in a Buddhist context. Here it refers to maintaining a single
state of equanimity through both mental calmness (stillness) and turbulence
(movement).
46. On Fu Dashi, or Fu Xi (497–569), see Broughton 2009: 283, n.344. Broughton
translates a brief account of him from the Xu gaoseng zhuan (T.50 p. 650b1–6)
and mentions that there are several manuscripts from Dunhuang containing his
commentary on the Vajracchedikā sūtra. Here Daoxin states that Fu Dashi only
taught the fifth method, but that he (Daoxin) will teach the fourth and fifth.
Essentially Daoxin uses the fourth method of meditation as a preliminary prac-
tice to the fifth; this can be seen as a version of the classic pair of vipaśyanā and
śamatha.
47. T.14, no. 475, p. 539b20.
48. While the previous passage establishes the physical body as composite, imper-
manent and lacking autonomy, this passage explains how to perceive one’s own
body as equivalent to the body of a buddha, empty but manifesting through the
power of compassion.
49. Tathāgata means ‘thus-come/gone’ (Skt tathā + āgata). The Chinese translation,
rúlái ྲֶ, preserves this meaning.
50. This paragraph follows David Chappell’s translation of tā Ԇ (literally ‘other’) as
‘objectified’. Chappell states that many comparable uses of tā were discussed by
John McRae in an unpublished translation of Hongren’s Treatise on the Essentials
of Training the Mind. See Chappell 1983: 125, n.46.
51. T.12, no. 389, p. 1110c19.
52. This is the end of the teaching of the fourth type of meditation practice, and the
beginning of the fifth.
53. This is not a direct quotation.
54. T.9, no. 262; the first line appears on p. 41a, the other three on p. 45a.
55. T.12, no. 389, p. 1111a15–20.
56. ‘Uncontaminated activity’ (wéilòuyè ❑┿ᾝ) is activity carried out without
the conceptualization of actor, act and recipient. It does not generate further
karma.
57. Though I take ‘Listeners’ (wénzhě 㚎㘵) here as a direct address, other transla-
tors have not. Cleary (1986: 60) has ‘those who hear’ and Faure (1989: 154)
‘ceux qui en ont pris connaissance’.
58. ‘True mindfulness’ (zhèng niàn ↓ᘥ) is also translated ‘right thought’ in the
context of the noble eightfold path.
59. This does not appear to be a direct quote. Compare Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra,
T.6, no. 220, p. 700c3–6. Faure suggests a Mahāprajñāpāramitā śāstra 18 (T.25,
no. 1509, p. 197c).
60. Literally ‘a single word’ (yī yán а䀰). Faure (1997: 117) suggests that it refers to
the visualization of a single syllable, as advocated by Hongren in the next chapter.
However I think it can be safely translated as ‘a single teaching’ as in the Buddhist
context yī yán can mean ‘The same teaching, but which listeners may hear and
interpret variously’ (Muller, DDB).
61. As David Chappell (1983: 126, n.59) points out, this is very close to the closing
lines of chapter 26 of the Zhuangzi.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 6 8 – 1 7 7 235
chapter 13. daoxin ii: teachings for beginners

1. Adamek 2007: 318.
2. The Chinese translated by Adamek as ‘someone who stays put’ is yǒurén chù ᴹ
Ӫ㲅.
3. For an instruction on breathing in this way by a modern Japanese teacher, Maesumi
Roshi, see ‘What Are We Ignoring About Breathing?’, in Lion’s Roar, 16 April 2017
(http://www.lionsroar.com/what-are-we-ignoring-about-breathing/). Maesumi’s
life and teachings are discussed in Wright 2010.
4. Suzuki 1991: 27.
5. Hakuin’s instructions are quoted in Mohr 2000: 257. Dogen’s, in his Eihei
Kōruku, are translated in Leighton and Okumura 2010: 349. While Daoxin uses
the Chinese word fù 㞩, in these examples the term used is dāntián ѩ⭠ (tanden
in Japanese), a more technical term indicating a point below the navel, which
seems to be derived from Daoism.
6. ‘Turn the mind within’ translates liàn xīn ᮲ᗳ. The character liàn means literally
to fold back or withdraw. Again, translations of this passage seem to miss this
subtlety; Chappell (1983: 19) has ‘you collect the mind’, and McRae (1986:
142) has ‘mind [becomes] gradually regulated’. While liàn can certainly mean to
collect or gather, the meaning of withdrawing or turning inwards accords better
with the more detailed instructions in other early texts on the practice of
observing the mind (kànxīn ⴻᗳ).
7. Meinert 2007: 12.
8. The Chinese term used here by Daoxin is ‘mind’s ground’ (xīndì ᗳൠ). In
Wolun’s Dharma of Observing the Mind, it is ‘mind’s source’ (xīnyuán ᗳⓀ); see
Meinert 2007: 12. Both terms are synonymous with the ālaya-vijñāna. The use
of the term ‘ground’ is paralleled in the Dzogchen tradition, where the basis of all
existence is simply known as ‘the ground’ (Tib. gzhi).
9. Cuevas 2003: 63.
10. Eskilden 2006: 384–5. See also discussion in Cuevas 2003: 42–4.
11. Eskilden 2017: 130–42.
12. Translation in Ziporyn 2009: 12 (2.18–19).
13. Translation in Ziporyn 2009: 13 (2.19).
14. Yogācāra thinkers were criticized for positing an internal essence, in exactly the
same way that Daoxin criticizes Laozi here. Nevertheless, the classic works of
Yogācāra adhere to the principle of emptiness of all categories, including inner
and outer. See for example the discussion in Gold 2017.
15. Note the equivalence of meditation with repentance here (cf. the meditation
practice of the pos ̣adha ritual). Note also that meditation linked with repentance
in the pos ̣adha ceremony and elsewhere in the early tradition involves the visual-
ized deconstruction of one’s body.
16. Here the instructions move from contemplation of the body to contemplation of
the mind, a distinction most translators seem to have missed.
17. Deluded consciousness and perception are the fifth and third of the five aggre-
gates.
18. Other translations do not mention letting the mind come to rest in the abdomen.
For example John McRae has only ‘force all the air out of your abdomen’. The
same interpretation is found in Chappell 1983: 119 and Faure 1989: 157.
The difference may be explained by their relying on a version of the text in which
236 n o t e s t o p p. 1 7 7 – 1 8 4
the character xīn (‘mind’) is missing from this passage (it appears in S.2504 but
not Pelliot chinois 3436).
19. Here, I translate liàn xīn ᮲ᗳ as ‘turn the mind within’. ‘Subtle and profound’ is
yǎoyǎo míngmíng ジジߕߕ, a phrase from the Zhuangzi.
20. ‘Energy’ translates yōulíng ᒭ䵸. Faure has ‘esprit transcendent’.
21. T.14, no. 475, p. 541a8.
22. I presume the ‘single phrase’ mentioned in this quote is: ‘realization is acquiring
your original mind’. The actual quote here is not found in the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa
sūtra, however. Note the similarity of this ‘single phrase’ (yī jù аਕ) to the ‘single
teaching’ (yī yán а䀰), literally ‘single word’, mentioned by Daoxin at the end of
the Methods for the Bodhisattva Precepts.
23. The phrase shě shēn ᦘ䓛 is a reference to acts such as the bodhisattva giving up
his body for the tigress and cubs; here, Daoxin seems to be using it as a euphe-
mism for dying.
24. ‘Mental attitude’ here translates xīn jìng ᗳຳ, literally ‘mind and its objects’,
indicating dualistic mental processes.
25. The tone of this sentence seems to be sarcasm, indicating that most people have
a rigid, rule-based conception of what the dharma should be, and the remainder
of the passage explains what dharma really means.
26. See the similar passage in the Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra, T.5, no. 220, p. 927c20,
c23.
27. Here Daoxin appears to be suggesting that his teaching on dying (‘the dharma of
giving up the body’) need not be taken literally, and can be applied to meditation
practice generally.
28. The ‘level of illumination’ is the third of the ten bodhisattva levels (Skt bhūmi).
‘Decide your own fate’ translates tuī cè ᧘ㆆ, a phrase literally meaning ‘to
throw the divining sticks’. The meaning here is presumably an extension of the
references above to not being compelled by karma into further rebirth in
samsara.
29. T.85, no. 2901, p. 1435a24–25. On this text in early Zen, see McRae 1986:
202–5.
30. T.9, no. 278, p. 610a22.
31. T.14, no. 475, p. 541b19–20.
32. T.12, no. 374, p. 402c8–9.
chapter 14. hongren: the buddha in everything

1. On the nine manuscript copies of the text, and the history of the (mainly
Japanese) scholarship on them, see McRae 1986: 309–12, n.36.
2. McRae 1986: 119.
3. Wilkinson 2000: 267.
4. McRae 1986: 127. McRae also cites (p. 133) a passage from Yijing, where the
buddha Vairocana is the sun.
5. McRae 1986: 130.
6. ‘Single syllable’ is yī zì аᆇ. In later Zen texts, there is much discussion of the
single-syllable ‘critical phrase’ mu (wú ❑). Faure (1989: p. 169, n.45) considers
this to be ‘sans doute’ an allusion to the tantric practice of visualizing the letter ‘a’.
Note the similar terms used by Daoxin: ‘single word/teaching’ (yī yán а䀰) and
‘single phrase’ (yī jù аਕ); these seem to refer to essentialized teachings rather
n o t e s t o p p. 1 8 4 – 1 8 9 237
than visualized syllables. A reference to the syllable ‘a’ appears in one of the
Tibetan Zen texts from Dunhuang, a commentary on the ‘Brief Precepts’ (Tib.
lung chung) found in Pelliot tibétain 699 (see van Schaik 2015: 189).
7. See Leighton 2015: 21ff.
8. Statements about animals and trees communicating the dharma occur in the
longer and shorter Sukhāvatīvyūha sutras; see the translations in Gomez 1996:
16–18, 146–7, 180–1.
9. The title of the text is Vajracchedikā-prajñāpāramitôpadeśa, which appears in
two canonical versions (T.25, no. 1511, p. 784b19; no. 1512, p. 819a29–b6).
The two versions are different, but contain the same lines cited here. The
citation is actually a quoted verse in the commentary itself, with no source; it is
quoted in response to a similar question to the one here, i.e.: ‘In that case,
the buddha Śākyamuni is not a buddha, and does not teach the dharma. Is that
right?’
10. See also the typically interesting discussion of nonsentient beings teaching the
dharma in Dogen’s Shōbōgenzō, ‘Mujo Seppo’ (‘Nonsentient Beings Speak the
Dharma’). See Tanahashi 2010: 548–57; Nearman 2007: 653–65; Nishijima and
Cross 2006: III.95–104.
11. Faure (1989: 163, n.1) points out that Shuangfeng Mountain was known as
‘West Mountain’ while the neighbouring Mount Fengmao was known as ‘East
Mountain’. He believes that the Masters of the Lanka confuses East Mountain
with Shuangfeng. However, it is clear from later in the chapter that the Youju
monastery mentioned here is Daoxin’s monastery on Shuangfeng, and it is also
stated later in this chapter that Hongren was entombed in a stupa on Fengmao.
Thus the use of ‘East Mountain’ here is meant to refer to the tradition established
by Hongren in Fengmao, and not to Shuangfeng Mountain. The Genealogy of the
Dharma Jewel states that Hongren initially travelled to Shuangfeng to study with
Daoxin before moving to the Pingmao (not Fengmao), which it identifies as the
East Mountain (see Adamek 2007: 85).
12. Here I am translating mén 䮰 as ‘tradition’ to give a sense somewhere in between
a ‘teaching method’ or ‘doctrine’ and a ‘school’. I think ‘tradition’ suggests both of
these without the baggage of ‘school’ which suggests too much institutional pres-
ence.
13. There is a reference to ridgepoles and rafters in the Dhammapada (v.154, transla-
tion from Mascaró 1973: 56).
But now I have seen thee, housebuilder: never more shalt thou build this
house. The rafters of sins are broken, the ridge-pole of ignorance is
destroyed.
14. The ‘silent transmission’ implies transmission of the nature of reality/mind
through symbolic action, as in the story of the Buddha holding up the flower in
silence to his students.
15. See McRae 1986: 90–1 for the text that was popularly attributed to Hongren
(and partially appears in earlier chapters of this work).
16. The extent to which the following text was directly extracted from Xuanze’s
work, or whether it is a paraphrase, cannot be established in the absence of the
original text. The character translated here as ‘according to’ is àn ᤹ (see Kroll
2015: 3.I). It is specifically used in the two citations from Xuanze’s text, here and
in the next chapter. The use of àn suggests that what follows is meant to draw
238 n o t e s t o p p. 1 8 9 – 1 9 0
from that text, rather than to be a direct quote, as these are usually prefaced in this
text with yún Ӂ or yuē ᴠ. The character àn can also indicate an author’s or
editor’s aside (nota bene), and this is how Faure (1989: 163) takes it. Cleary
(1986: 67) has ‘according to’.
17. This is a direct expression of the Confucian ideal.
18. The suggestion here is that Hongren increased his community’s practice of
performing offering rituals (Ch. gōngyǎng ‫׋‬伺; Skt pūja), the usual way that
Buddhist monks attract lay sponsorship. Just below in this chapter, an offering
ritual is described, attended by laypeople and monastics, from whom Hongren
receives the offerings.
19. The phrase hún yī ⑮ܰ here is difficult to translate in this context; I take hún to
mean ‘complete’ and yī to mean ‘observance’ or ‘ceremony’. According to DDB
(Muller), it is equivalent to Skt vidhi, Tib. cho ga.
20. The four postures are walking, standing, sitting and lying down; the three activi-
ties are speech, thoughts and deeds.
21. Note the deliberate pattern of four, three, two, one here.
22. The nine kinds of disciples include all male and female, ordained and lay classes
of Buddhist practitioner.
23. The Chinese tǎ ຄ usually means a stupa in a Buddhist context; in China and
Japan, the same word was used for the tombs of abbots of monasteries. Here, the
implication is that Hongren is commissioning his own memorial.
24. It appears that Hongren is here predicting that he will die on or after the next
anniversary of the Buddha’s parinirvān ̣a, and saying that after his death his resi-
dence should be converted into a monastery. The parinirvān ̣a was traditionally
celebrated on the fifteenth day of the second month. The implication of the text
is that the stupa was intended by Hongren as a memorial for himself. Faure seems
to agree with this but he only has the first statement as the direct speech of
Hongren and therefore makes the intent unclear. A similar passage occurs in the
Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel and Adamek (2007: 320) translates it as ‘I can’t
very well enter parinirvān ̣a on the fifteenth day of the second month, the same as
the Buddha.’ According to Faure (1989: 164, n.21), the residence mentioned
here was ‘sans doute’ Hongren’s family home in Huangmei. He cites the compa-
rable cases where Huike’s and Shenxiu’s family homes were converted into
monasteries. However, in the present context, it seems that Hongren is meant to
be speaking to his students on Mount Fengmao, and it is his residence there, at
the centre of a meditation teaching retreat setting, that he is asking to have
converted into a monastery.
25. See Adamek 2007: 164–5; she says that lists of ten disciples of Hongren occur in
several Chan histories; in others, from the Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel
onwards, Huineng is made the prime disciple. Adamek suggests that the Masters
of the Lanka is the more accurate of the two texts in some areas. See also Adamek
2007: 166, on the preface to Jingjue’s commentary on the Heart Sutra, in which
Jingjue states that his three main teachers were Shenxiu, Huian (i.e. Laoan) and
Xuanze.
26. On Zhishen from Zizhou see also the Genealogy of the Dharma Jewel (Adamek
2007: 330–4). According to Faure (1989: 165, n.25), he is also the author of
commentaries found in the Dunhuang manuscripts. Hongren’s calling them both
‘educated people’ would seem to be a double-edged compliment or even a mild
criticism, given the account of his attitude to book learning.
n o t e s t o p p. 1 9 0 – 1 9 4 239
27. Laoan means ‘Old An’. His dates are usually given as 582–709, and he was also
known as Huian. See Adamek 2007: 165.
28. Faru is an important figure for historians of Chan, because his epitaph has
survived (see Adamek 2007: 161, as well as McRae 1986: 85–6). The epitaph has
Faru as Hongren’s prime disciple. The inscription identifies the mind-to-mind
silent transmission as the single practice concentration, and an inscription for
one of Faru’s disciples identifies this lineage with the Laṅkāvatāra sūtra. In the
Transmission of the Dharma Jewel, Faru is also presented as the main disciple of
Hongren and his biography is in between Hongren’s and Shenxiu’s (see transla-
tion in McRae 1986: 264–5).
29. Huineng is of course the figure who was accepted as Hongren’s true successor by
Shenhui and those who followed his lead; later, this became orthodoxy.
30. ‘Simultaneous practice’ (jiān xíng, ެ㹼) is the practice of the six perfections all
at once. This seems to be the practice that Hongren is asking Xuanze to cultivate
and teach. Teachings on how the six perfections are present in the act of noncep-
tual meditation are found in a number of early Zen texts; see for example van
Schaik 2015: 50–1 and 124–5.
31. There is probably some wordplay suggested here, also present in the English,
where Hongren is asking Xuanze if he knows his wants and needs, while at the
same time asking if he understands the nature of his (enlightened) mind. Thanks
to Imre Galambos for this suggestion.
32. ‘Springs and autumns’ (chūn qiū ᱕⿻) can also be translated simply as ‘years’ or
‘age’ but it is a nice image. It is also the name of a chapter of the Shōbōgenzō:
‘Shunju’.
33. Cleary (1986: 69) translates this to mean that Hongren’s body remained the
same, but there is no other case of Hongren being said to be mummified.
34. This was a high-level post, with only one higher command level beneath the
emperor.
35. This literally means: ‘cut off wisdom’. It is possibly a reference to the Daodejing
which has the words: ‘If we could renounce our sageness and discard our
wisdom, it would be better for the people a hundredfold.’ Thanks to Imre
Galambos for pointing this out.
36. The lamp is often used as a simile for the mind in Yogācāra Buddhist texts; this
statement is a reference to how the mind creates the objects of perception.
37. According to Faure (1989: 169, n.51), this phrase occurs word for word in
Jingjue’s commentary on the Heart Sutra. Faure puts only this line in quotation
marks.
38. The text is the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā, translated into Chinese by Kumarajiva,
and this is the first verse after the dedication (T.30, no. 1564, p. 2b6–7).
39. These two lines are a direct quote from the Sarvabuddha-vis ̣ayāvatāra-jñānālokā-
lam ̣ kāra sūtra (T.12, no. 35, p. 262c6).
chapter 15. shenxiu: zen in the world

1. The best source in English on Shenxiu and his works remains John McRae’s The
Northern School and the Formation of Early Ch’an Buddhism (McRae 1986). This
work contains complete translations of the Treatise on Original Luminosity
(Yuánmíng lùn) and Five Skilful Means (Wǔ fāngbiàn), as well as excerpts from the
Treatise on Contemplating the Mind (Guānxīn lùn).
240 n o t e s t o p p. 1 9 4 – 2 0 0
2. ‘Imperial Preceptor’ is dìshī ᑍᑛ, and ‘National Preceptor’ is guóshī ഻ᑛ. While
the post of National Preceptor has been shown to go back as far as the Northern
Qi dynasty (550–77), modern scholarship generally discusses the origins of the
Imperial Preceptor post during the Tangut kingdom in the late twelfth century
(Dunnell 1992). The post became famous soon after this during the reign of the
Mongols, particularly with Kublai Khan’s appointment of Chogyal Pagpa (1230–
85) to the role of Imperial Preceptor. The appointment of Shenxiu by Wu Zetian
to a post of the same name several centuries earlier seems to have been missed in
these discussions.
3. The five skilful means are the five chapters of the text itself; they are
(i) explaining the essence of buddhahood, or teaching the transcendence of
thought; (ii) opening the gates of wisdom, or teaching motionlessness; (iii) the
teaching on manifesting the inconceivable; (iv) elucidating the true nature of
entities; (v) the naturally unobstructed path of liberation. Fivefold structures are
particularly popular in early Zen; we have already seen the five types of medita-
tion used by Daoxin. The eighth-century teacher Moheyan taught five levels of
meditation as well (van Schaik 2015: 146):
1. If you experience the movements of the deluded mind, this is a neutral
state.
2. If you experience the movements of the deluded mind and you follow that
experience, this is the state of an ordinary sentient being.
3. If you experience the movements of the deluded mind and you understand
that movement as a fault, then that experience will stop the various move-
ments.
4. If you experience the movements of the deluded mind and know that they are
without self, then this is one-sided peace, quiescent in emptiness.
5. If you experience the movements of the deluded mind and do not conceptu-
alize or follow them, then each thought is liberated as soon as it comes. This
is the correct meditation.
Five levels of realization are also attributed to Dongshan Liangjie (807–69). See
the discussion of these in Leighton 2015.
4. McRae 1986: 172.
5. McRae 2003: 92–3.
6. McRae 1986: 180.
7. Red Pine 2006: 36.
8. The distinction between direct and indirect teachings is an important one in
Mahayana Buddhism. A number of sutras – such as the Sam ̣ dhinirmocana – and
exegetical works distinguish between statements of the Buddha that expressed
the truth directly (Skt nītārtha) and those statements which were meant for
students for whom the direct truth is not appropriate, and therefore require
interpretation (Skt neyārtha).
9. Red Pine 2006: 34.
10. Cleary 1986: 74; McRae 1986: 54–5.
11. Faure 1989: 174.
12. Liji (Yueji 30), translation in Legge 1990a: 110; Chinese text consulted in
http://ctext.org/shang-shu/great-plan. Shangshu (IV.3), translation in Legge
1990b: 141; Chinese text consulted in http://ctext.org/liji/yue-ji.
n o t e s t o p p. 2 0 0 – 2 0 4 241
13. Nishiyama and Stevens 1975: I.xvi. ‘Soft and flexible mind’ translates Japanese
nyūnan shin Ḅ䔏ᗳ.
14. See Faure 1997: 93–6.
15. Wu Zetian reigned from 690 to 705. She was followed by Zhongzong (r. 684;
705–10), also known as Yingwang, Prince of Ying, and a period of his reign was
known as Shenlong (705–7). The period of his rule from 705–710 was domi-
nated by Empress Wei (d. 710), his consort. He was followed by Ruizong (r.
684–90; 710–12); Emperor Taishang is an honorific title meaning ‘retired
emperor’. Another influential figure during both of these emperors’ reigns was
Princess Taiping (d. 713), youngest daughter of Wu Zetian. This period was
followed by the reign of Emperor Xuanzong (r. 712–56). Cleary (1986: 72)
misses out the other two emperors in his translation. Faure (1989: 171) omits
some of the text, perhaps partially following an ellipsis in Pelliot chinois 3703.
‘National Preceptor’ here translates guóshī.
16. ‘Prediction’ is shòujì ᦸ䁈 (Skt vyākaran ̣a) which in Buddhist scriptures refers
specifically to a guarantee from the Buddha that a person will attain enlighten-
ment.
17. Bianzhou was a prefecture in modern Kaifeng from the sixth to the tenth century.
Present-day Weishi County is in Henan, under the administration of Kaifeng.
18. ‘Abandoned the methods of verbal expression’ is yányǔ dào duàn 䀰䃎䚃ᯧ, a
phrase that became popular in Zen, and was earlier used by Zhiyi.
19. ‘Put an end to the operation of his mental functions’ is xīnxíng chù miè ᗳ㹼㲅
⓵, a common phrase.
20. Cleary (1986: 72–3) and Faure (1989: 172) translate these four lines as
describing Shenxiu; however, the last line about not producing any writings
suggests they are about Hongren. Also, the two commonly used four-character
phrases yányǔ dào duàn 䀰䃎䚃ᯧ and xīnxíng chù miè ᗳ㹼㲅⓵ refer to
enlightened beings, so may be more applicable at this point in the narrative to
Shenxiu’s teacher.
21. At the beginning of the text the only post mentioned is National Preceptor:
guóshī ഻ᑛ. So either the titles are being used interchangeably, or Shenxiu was
the only one of the three teachers mentioned at the beginning who was granted
the role of Imperial Preceptor as well as (or subsequent to) having the role of
National Preceptor.
22. Here, ‘school of thought’ is a translation of jiā zōngzhı̌ ᇦᇇᰘ.
23. Neither Cleary (1986: 73) nor Faure (1989: 173) makes these two lines part of
Zetian’s speech.
24. As mentioned earlier, this is Zhongzong (r. 684; 705–10).
25. Literally, ‘hoping to go to the beginning point of the path’. On the other hand,
Cleary (1986: 73) and Faure (1989: 174) translated this as a ‘leader’ or ‘guide’
on the path.
26. As Faure (1989: 174, n.14) points out, this is an allusion to a story about the
emperor Gaozu (206–195 bc), who had the elm trees of his home village trans-
planted to his new palace.
27. This looks like a letter of passage; for other examples in a Dunhuang manuscript,
see van Schaik and Galambos 2011.
28. Faure (1989: 174) has ‘three emperors’ based on Pelliot chinois 3703, but as only
two are mentioned and ‘three’ is actually an insertion in Pelliot chinois 3703, I
follow Pelliot chinois 3646 here.
242 n o t e s t o p p. 2 0 4 – 2 0 6
29. The phrase ‘court and countryside’ (cháo yě ᵍ䟾) refers to the aristocracy and
the ordinary people.
30. According to McRae (1986: 46), Li was actually the name of Shenxiu’s family,
and it was the family residence that was converted into a monastery as a result of
the emperor’s decree.
31. On the interpretation of this enigmatic phrase, see the introduction to this
chapter.
32. ‘Monastic and lay devotees’ is literally ‘the four orders’, i.e. bhiks ̣u, bhiks ̣un ̣ī,
upāsaka and upāsikā.
33. The rank of ‘emperor’s son-in-law’ is fùmǎ 倉俜. The ‘imperial princess’ is
gōngzhǔ ‫ޜ‬ѫ, as for example Wencheng Gongzhu, the princess who married the
Tibetan emperor Songtsen Gampo in the early seventh century.
34. The ‘topknot jewel’ is jìzhū 儫⨐, the king’s most prized possession in the Lotus
Sutra parable (Muller, DDB).
35. This is a play on the popular metaphor of a network of hanging mirrors, all
reflecting each other, which appears in Sengcan’s chapter. Here, Shenxiu’s unique
nature is conveyed with the image of a mirror hanging alone.
36. ‘Luminous spirit’ is shénmíng ⾎᰾. Though the term’s origins predate Buddhism
in China, later it came to be a synonym for the Buddha nature.
37. This line is difficult to translate as it stands. Here I read the character qián ࡽ
(‘in front; preceding’) as a scribal error for qián ▋, meaning ‘to plumb the
depths, probe’. Middle Chinese pronunciations are the near homophones dzen
and dzjem respectively (Kroll 2015: 361).
38. Here I am substituting yīqiè а࠷ (‘everyone’) for yīshāng аۧ (‘single
suffering’). If we keep the original character, a translation could be ‘he set his
heart on the nirvana of a single suffering [being]’. On the other hand, Faure has
the emperor’s speech moving into the first person to say he was upset at the
thought of the death of Shenxiu.
39. This is Shenxiu’s official title. Literally, dàtōng བྷ䙊 means ‘vastly pervasive’
(compare the Tibetan title Longchen).
40. For the name of the monastery, Pelliot chinois 3436 has Dumensi, while Pelliot
chinois 3703 has Duren. The name of Shenxiu’s monastery, from other sources,
is Dumen, and I use that here. See McRae (1989: 50, 55–6) on this monastery,
and the full ceremonies around Shenxiu’s death. Faure’s (1989: 175) translation
states that the officer was told to establish the monastery, as well as the stele,
which seems to be wrong.
41. Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra: T.12, no. 374, p. 384, c16.
42. Literally ‘the universe of the ten directions’.
43. ‘Reflection’ (or shadow) is yı̌ng ᖡ, which can also mean ‘portrait’, which does
remain after the body is gone. However, the line is probably meant to be contra-
dictory. As Faure (1989: 177, n.28) points out, this reverses the usual order of
things, in which the body is primary and the shadow dependent on it. This theme
continues in the next line, ‘The bridge flows but the water does not’.
44. ‘Essence and activity’ is tı̌yòng 億⭘. The concept appears frequently in Shenxiu’s
works; see for example McRae 1986: 178.
45. The ‘twofold mystery’ (chóngxuán 䟽⦴) was the name of a school of Daoism
(see Pregadio 2008: 1.274ff.). The term is derived from Laozi; as the name for a
school, it apparently goes back to the sixth century but reached its apogee during
the Tang dynasty. The Daoist context of the term was known to Buddhist writers
n o t e s t o p p. 2 0 6 – 2 0 8 243
well before this: ‘Buddhist thinkers such as Zhi Dun (314–66), Sengzhou
(374–414), and Jizang (549–623) used the expression chongxuan to speak of
Laozi’s truth, and identify it as a Taoist usage’ (Pregadio 2008: 275). Thus
Shenxiu is, at least as an allusion, refering to a Daoist concept here.
46. This seems to be a reference to the abhidharma doctrine that everything is
renewed in every instant. The same point is made in a dialogue between a teacher
and student in one of the Dunhuang Tibetan Zen texts (see van Schaik 2015:
106–7). Note that Cleary (1986: 76) and Faure (1989: 177) both translate this
differently, leaving out the character jì ᇲ (‘peace, cessation’) which is in Pelliot
chinois 3436 but missing in the Taisho edition.
47. Chapter 28 of the Mahāparinirvān ̣a sūtra (T.12, no. 374) addresses the nature of
the Buddha, including the idea that the Buddha came from eastern India, but also
that his body fills all of space.
48. Faure (1997: 207, n.33) discusses Jingxian and also suggests that this eighth
chapter is a later addition by a disciple of one of these four figures, and because
Jingxian is obscure, he suggests it could be one of his disciples. However, there is
no compelling reason to think that this is the case.
49. In this metaphor, it seems that the lamp is the teachings, and the mirror the clear
minds of the disciples.
50. ‘Eminent’ is dàdé བྷᗧ, literally ‘of great virtue’. It is a term of respect for senior
monks.
51. The twenty-four are: eleven masters at the head of the eight chapters;
Bodhidharma’s other two students Daoyu and Tanlin (excluding Huike who is
already counted); Hongren’s other nine main disciples (i.e. excluding Shenxiu
who is already counted); Xuanze and Jingjue.
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INDEX
Note: Sanskrit words are given here with diacritical marks, even when this is not the
case in the main text. The Chinese equivalents provided for Sanskrit Buddhist
words are those most commonly found in the Masters of the Lanka.
abhidharma (Ch. lùn), the Avalokiteśvara (Ch. Guānyīn), a

philosophical writings included as bodhisattva who embodies the
the third part of the tripit.aka 118, principle of universal compassion
172, 243n46 103
absorption (Ch. zhèngshòu), a state of awareness (Ch. jué), the simple
full engagement in the experience of presence of consciousness in all
meditation; see also concentration sentient beings 5, 16, 18, 70–1, 104,
23, 138–9, 172, 229n37 152, 163, 171–2, 177, 180, 182, 186,
afflictions (Skt kleśa, Ch. fánnǎo), 204, 233n44
negative mental states that obstruct
enlightenment, including the three bodhicitta (Ch. pútí xīn), the
(or five) poisons; see also ‘awakening mind’, the aspiration to
obscurations 98–9, 104, 109, 177, achieve enlightenment for the sake
195 of all sentient beings 9, 98, 129, 195,
aggregates (Skt skandha, Ch. yùn), the 220n18
five psycho-physical constituents of a bodhisattva (Ch. púsà), I. a Buddhist
person: (i) form, (ii) sensation, (iii) practitioner who aspires to bring all
perception, (iv) formations, and (v) beings to enlightenment; II. a deity
consciousness 135, 163, 176, 229n38 embodying a particular enlightened
attachment (Ch. zhù, xì), the mental quality, such as Avalokiteśvara 8–11,
attitude of clinging to people or 13, 15, 28–9, 40, 44, 64, 67, 77, 79,
things for the sake of one’s own sense 97, 102–3, 110, 129–30, 157, 160,
of self; the main cause of suffering 4, 166, 169, 178, 195–8, 206, 209n4,
25–6, 36, 64, 81, 99–100, 109, 111, 210n22, 220n10, 228n19, 231n20,
120, 126–7 233n31, n33, n37, 236n23, n28
awakening (Skt bodhi, Ch. pútí), the bodhisattva precepts (Skt bodhisattva
achievement of buddhahood, pran.idhāna, Ch. púsà yuàn), vows
transcending the obscurations 4–6, expressing the aspiration to bring all
8–9, 15–18, 28, 41, 43, 55, 81, sentient beings to enlightenment; a
99–101, 104, 127, 154–5, 218n37, ritual commitment to the path of
231n9 Mahayana Buddhism 44, 65–6, 72,
250
Index 251
79, 151–2, 153, 168–70, 196, 198, 147–8, 154–6, 164, 179, 187, 195,
231n3, 236n22 202, 217n19, 235n14
buddha (Ch. fó), may refer to the compassion (Skt karun.a, Ch. mı̌n), the
historical buddha Śākyamuni or to mental state that desires for others to
other enlightened teachers such as be free from suffering; one of the
Amitabha, and indeed any sentient conditions for bodhicitta 4, 10–14,
being who has attained full 26–8, 102–3, 108, 138, 162, 189,
enlightenment; in this translation, 204, 233n40, 234n48
the former is indicated by capitalizing concentration (Ch. dìng), a state of
the initial letter. See specific meditative focus; see also
references to individual buddhas, absorption 8, 66–8, 74, 118, 138,
buddha nature, buddha realm, and 149, 152–5, 158, 163, 165, 183, 203,
buddhahood 221n27, 229n39
buddha nature (Skt tathāgatagarba, consciousness (Skt vijñāna, Ch. shí),
Ch. fóxìng), the enlightened nature of the mental states of an unenlightened
the mind, which is already present in person, divided into eight parts: the
all sentient beings 33, 39, 65, 76, 95, perceptions of the six senses, the ego
98, 104, 117, 130, 132–3, 135–6, (Skt manas) and the basic
146, 148, 155, 163, 169, 175, 178, consciousness (Skt ālaya-vijñāna) 55,
180, 185–6, 193, 195, 197, 242n36 73, 80, 98, 104–5, 108–9, 112–13,
buddha realm (Ch. fóguó), the world as 148, 155, 166, 170, 172, 175, 177,
experienced by a buddha; see also 183, 214n10, 219n4, 220n15, 226n3,
pure land 98–9, 160 235n17
buddhahood (Ch. fóguǒ), the state of conventional truth (Skt sam.vr.tisatya,
full enlightenment, accessible to all Ch. súdì), ordinary perception based
sentient beings 9, 15, 17, 98, 108, on socially agreed categories; see
134, 136–7, 195, 228n24, 240n3 also ultimate truth 110, 145, 147,
174, 197, 205
calmness (śamatha), meditation
techniques intended to calm the dependent arising (Skt
mind; one of the two main categories pratītyasamutpāda, Ch. yīnyuán), the
of meditation practice along with fact that all entities can only come
insight meditation (vipaśyanā) 38, into being and exist in dependence
46, 72, 74, 118, 157, 177, 233–4n45, on causes and conditions; therefore
235 they cannot have independent
categories (Skt laks.an.a, Ch. xiàng), the existence; see also emptiness
way reality is characterized according 11–13, 24, 57, 65, 92–3, 120–1, 125,
to the conceptual system of a 145, 148–9, 163, 214n10, 218n36,
language; categories are the basis of 224–5n29,
conventional truth, and in dhāran.ī, an incantation or spell; also
Mahayana Buddhism, they are said the name for a scriptural text
to have no bearing on the ultimate containing one or more spells 30
truth, because they are entirely dharma (Ch. fǎ), I. the teachings of the
created by the mind (Yogācāra), or Buddha; II. a truly existing entity
because they only exist in 10–11, 49, 64, 80, 94, 96–7, 100,
dependence on each other 108–9, 113, 120, 124, 126–7, 133–7,
(Madhyamaka) 4, 9, 65, 77–8, 92, 142, 146–7, 155–7, 161–7, 178–80,
94, 96–7, 100, 124, 127, 143, 145, 186–9, 199, 203, 205–7, 218n26,
252 Index
n27, 221n26, 222n38, 225n32, five aggregates (Skt pañcaskandha, Ch.

229n38, 231n3, 236n25, 237n8–10, wŭ yīn), the five aspects that together
dharmakāya (Ch. fǎshēn), one of the make a sentient being: form,
three ways a buddha manifests, sensation, perception, disposition
representing the unconditioned state and conciousness 111, 134, 163,
of enlightenment itself; source of the 176, 229n38
two ‘form bodies’, the sam.bhogakāya five paths (Skt pañcamārga, Ch. wǔ
and the nirmān.akāya 100, 135–7, 140, dào), the stages of the bodhisattva
146, 155–6, 162, 172, 176, 178, 185–6, career 111, 221n26, 227n13, 223n33
192–3, 222n34, 229n29, 230n43
hearer (Skt śrāvaka, Ch. shēngwén), a
emptiness (Skt śunya, Ch. kōng), the Buddhist practitioner who does not
lack of independent existence in any accept the scriptures and doctrines
given entity, the idea of emptiness of the mahayana, and is therefore
complements that of dependent considered to belong to the
arising, and these concepts are hinayana 64, 97, 109, 139, 166,
discussed in the literature of the 216n8, 220n10
Madhyamaka 11–15, 38, 62–3, hīnāyana (Ch. xiǎoshéng), the ‘lesser
72–3, 78, 88, 92–4, 99–100, 127, vehicle’, a disparaging term for
136, 138–9, 147, 160–5, 169, 173, Buddhist practitioners who do not
178, 191, 210n4, 212n12, 218n27, accept the mahayana, and their
219n41, n42, 226n43, 233n34, teachings and practices 64, 105, 107,
235n14, 240n3 216n8, 220n10
enlightenment (Ch. jué), the state of
awakening, sometimes distinguished impermanence (Ch. wéicháng), one of
into temporary experiences (see the fundamental contemplations in
kenshō and satori) on the one hand Buddhism, that everything changes
and final buddhahood on the other and eventually passes away 4, 18, 46,
4–5, 7–9, 15–18, 21, 23, 34, 37, 41, 72, 163, 218n27, 220n17, 222n34
58, 64, 67, 72–4, 90, 98–9, 116, 129, insight meditation (vipaśyanā),
143, 145, 154–5, 165, 185, 189, 195, meditation practices focusing on
209n10, 210n11, 218n33, 228n19, analysis of the nature of the self and/
231n9 or phenomena; one of the two main
entity (Skt dharma, Ch. fǎ), something classes of meditation practice, along
that exists independent of any causes with calmness (śamatha) 38, 70–4,
or conditions; refuted by the 108, 152, 157–9, 163–4, 169,
Madhyamaka teachings on 212n12, 219n41, 232n26
emptiness 96, 99, 101, 109, 112,
179, 192–3, 240n3 karma (Ch. yè), an individual’s actions;
existence (Skt bhava, Ch. mīng), in the more specifically, the causal
context of Madhyamaka, connection between their actions and
independent or true existence (Skt the effects those actions have on their
svabhava) is a quality falsely ascribed future development 13, 24–5, 92, 98,
to persons and things by certain 109, 112, 119, 125, 142, 154, 170,
Buddhist and non-Buddhist schools 176, 205, 211n15, 234n56, 236n28
of thought 11–14, 25, 73, 78, 92–3, kenshō (Ch. kāiwù), a Japanese term
100–1, 110, 126, 144, 147, 162, 164, for a glimpse or insight into the true
176, 180, 217n19, 219n43 nature of things 8–9, 21, 23, 209n10
Index 253
key phrase, (Ch. hùatóu), a form of mindfulness without an object 38,

koan practice focused on a single 66–9, 70, 105, 154–5, 186, 195
phrase or word 7–8, 40, 45, 76, 186 mindfulness without an object (Ch.
kōan (Ch. gōng’àn), stories and wúsuǒ niàn), meditation practice
dialogues from the Zen lineage as the without an object of concentration,
basis for contemplation; see also key also called ‘true mindfulness’; taught
phrase 6–8, 21, 23, 27, 34, 40, 43, 45, by Daoxuan as the stage following
66, 74–7, 81, 181, 184, 196, 213n19 mindfulness of the buddha 80, 155,
166, 170, 172, 178, 215n3, 222n36,
lineage (Ch. shèngzhǒng), the line of 234n58
transmission of a teaching that has
been handed down from teacher to nirvān.a (Ch. nièpán), the state of
student through many generations enlightenment, the end of samsara;
17, 27–8, 32–4, 38–41, 45–6, 52–62, both samsara and nirvana are said
88, 90, 103, 123, 141, 150, 198, 200, to come from the same basis, the
209n8, 212n16, 214n8, 239n28 mind 9, 91, 95, 98, 100, 104–5,
109–10, 136–7, 155, 160, 190, 192,
Madhyamaka (Ch. zhōngguān), the 205, 218n27, 228n20, 242n382
philosophical movement based on nonself (Skt anātman, Ch. wúyǒu), the
the idea of emptiness and disputing absence of independent, autonomous
other philosophical positions based existence in persons; see also
on eternalism and nihilism 13, 92, emptiness 4, 9, 24–5, 36, 104, 109,
144 218n27, 220n17, 222n34
mahāyāna (Ch. dàshéng), the ‘greater Northern School (Ch. běizōng), a
vehicle’, meaning the form of name given to the teachings of
Buddhism that emphasizes the path Shenxiu and his successors in China
of the bodhisattva, and is practiced 53–4, 56–60, 90, 198–9
in Tibet and East Asia ix, 8, 10–11,
14–15, 19, 26, 32, 45, 55, 67, 78, 103, obscurations (Skt vr.ti, Ch. ài, fù,
105, 111–12, 123–4, 129, 175, 195, zhàng), negative mental states that
210n18, 219n43, 222n34, 227n9, obscure the presence of the buddha
n12, 230n10, 240n8, nature in all sentient beings; see
Mañjuśrī (Ch. Wénshū), a bodhisattva also afflictions 5, 105, 109–10, 117,
who embodies the principle of 124, 131, 135, 182
insight (prajñā) 29, 153
merit (Skt pun.ya, Ch. fú), the beneficial perfection of wisdom (Skt
effects of virtuous behaviour, prajñāpāramitā), the last of the six
meditation practice and religious perfections, the wisdom that
activities such as prayer 21, 32, 49, perceives emptiness 63, 111, 153–4
95, 108, 116, 154 perfections (Skt pāramitā), the
mind’s ground (Ch. xīndì), the basis of essential accomplishments in
all of the mind’s activity 95, 171–2, Mahayana Buddhism: (i) generosity,
177, 235n8 (ii) morality, (iii) patience, (iv)
mindfulness of the buddha (Ch. energy, (v) meditation and (vi)
niànfó; Jap. nembutsu), a meditation wisdom or insight 14, 64, 109, 111,
practice involving sitting and 120, 127, 209n4, 210n22, 239n30
visualizing a buddha, while reciting prajñāpāramitā, see perfection of
that buddha’s name; see also wisdom
254 Index
principle (Ch. lĭ), the true nature of all sentient beings (Ch. zhòngshēng), all
things; see also thusness 64, 105, living beings with consciousness
108–10, 117–21, 124–7, 133–4, involved in the cycle of rebirth 9, 25,
137–8, 140, 147–9, 155, 165, 177, 94, 104, 110–12, 117, 124–31,
188–9, 190, 203, 205, 224n26, 225n35 135–7, 156–62, 175, 177, 180,
pure land (Ch. jìngtǔ), a visionary 185–6, 195, 228n16, n18, 229n29,
realm emanated by a buddha or 232n25, 233n37
bodhisattva, accessible to those who shikantaza, see sitting meditation
have cultivated the necessary practices single practice concentration
38, 67–8, 98, 155, 159, 186, 212n13 (Ch. xíng sānmèi), a meditation
practice focused on a single buddha;
rebirth (Ch. hòuyǒu), the process after see also mindfulness of the buddha
death by which consciousness, 66–8, 74, 152–4, 203, 221n27,
impelled by karma, becomes 231n6, n7, 239n28
embodied in a new sentient being; sitting meditation (Ch. zuòchán, Jap.
since consciousness is subject to zazen), a general term for meditation
continual change, the term practised while sitting, usually
‘reincarnation’ is not used 24–6, 38, involving techniques to bring about
136, 169–170, 172, 176, 178, calmness (śamatha) and/or forms of
211n15, 228n24, n25, 236n28 analysis known as insight
refuge (Ch. guīyī), the ritual act of meditation (vipaśyanā); in modern
affirming commitment to the Zen traditions, meditating without
Buddhist path, by ‘taking refuge’ in any object ( Jap. shikantaza) and
the Buddha, dharma and sangha 10, contemplation of koan are often
96, 109, 217n16, n17 practised in sitting meditation 6–8,
14–16, 20–21, 28–30, 42, 64–5, 127,
sangha (Ch. hésēng), the Buddhist 135, 137, 150–1, 169, 176–8, 193,
community 10–11, 44, 50, 141–2, 206, 209n9, 227n15
158, 232n25 six senses (Ch. liù qíng), sight, hearing,
Śākyamuni, historical buddha, taste, touch, smell and consciousness
considered the originator of the 72, 104, 128, 163–4, 219n4
Buddhist dharma in this era 31–4, solitary buddha (Skt pratyekabuddha,
106, 129, 227n14, 231n9, 237n9 Ch. bìzhīfó), a Buddhist practitioner
samādhi (Ch. sānmèi), see absorption who attains a high state of realization
sam.sāra (Ch. shēngsı̌), the cycle of without relying on a teacher; along
living and dying, experienced as with the hearer, one of two types of
suffering by sentient beings 4, 13, hinayana practioner 97, 139, 216n8,
20, 91, 93–4, 98–9, 105–6, 108–11, 220n10
129, 147, 160, 218n26, 221n23, source (Ch. yuán), the basic nature of
222n34, 230n13, 233n35, 236n28 mind, prior to the proliferation of
satori, a Japanese term for a temporary thoughts and emotions, also called
experience of the state of ‘mind’s source’ (xīnyuán) 91, 93, 96,
enlightenment 8, 19, 23, 210n10 99, 101, 108, 119, 125, 136, 162, 172,
self and other (Ch. zì tā), the 223n13, 233n41, 235n8
conceptual and emotional division stūpa (Ch. tǎ), a shrine representing
between oneself and other sentient the Buddha or a revered teacher,
beings; a false duality that is often containing relics, and used as
undermined by the realization of an object of devotional practice 21,
nonself 4, 9, 13–14, 111, 117, 124 190–1, 237n11, 238n23, n24
Index 255
suffering (Skt duh.ka, Ch. kǔ), the tripit.aka (Ch. sān cáng), the three
experience of life as unsatisfactory, ‘baskets’ or scriptural collections of
whether from feelings of irritation Buddhist teaching, sutra, vinaya and
and unease or strong emotions of abhidharma 123, 208
grief and pain; the nature of samsara
and the prime motivating factor for ultimate truth (Skt paramartha, Ch.
the Buddhist path 3–4, 8, 11, 35, 64, zhēndì), the correct analytical
104, 119, 120, 125–6, 186, 195, understanding of emptiness, or
220n17, 222n34, 225n31, 242n38 wisdom that is completely free from
sutra (Skt sūtra), scriptural text in categories; see also conventional
Buddhism, containing the words of truth 74, 110, 119, 147, 155, 166,
the Buddha, or another enlightened 173, 205, 218n27, n33, 219n41
being 13–16, 19, 21, 29–30, 38, 50,
55, 57, 67, 102, 109, 130, 143, 158, vajra (Ch. jīngāng), an unbreakable
163, 166, 172, 186, 195, 220n19, substance, a metaphor for the nature
223n6, 227n12, 240n8 of buddhahood 130, 134, 155, 157,
228n16
tathāgata (Ch. rúlái), another name for vehicle (Skt yāna), a general category
a buddha 10, 113, 155–6, 164, of Buddhist teaching and practice;
234n49 vehicles include the hinayana,
ten levels (Skt daśabhūmi, Ch. shí dì) mahayana and vajrayāna 8, 55, 64,
the stages of the bodhisattva path; 93–4, 99, 107, 108, 123, 135, 146,
see also five paths 108, 236n28 154, 157, 165, 216n8, 220n10,
three jewels (Skt triratna, Ch. sān bǎo), 227n12, 230n10
the Buddha, dharma and sangha; vinaya (Ch. lù), the regulations for
that in which a Buddhist takes refuge Buddhist monks and nuns 43–4,
10–11, 142, 152, 158 212n10, 220n8
three poisons (Ch. sān dú),
metaphorical term for the negative wall gazing (Ch. bìguān), a method of
mental states of attachment, aversion meditation taught in Bodhidharma’s
and ignorance 155, 158 Two Entrances and Four Practices
thusness (Skt tathātā, Ch. zhēnrú), the 117–21, 124, 223n8, n10, 224n23
enduring and ever-present nature of
all things 40, 91, 96–100, 119, 160, Yogācāra, the Buddhist philosophical
214n10, 217n20 movement also known as ‘mind only’
transmission (Ch. chuán), the ritual (Ch. wéishí), which advances the
whereby a teacher authorizes a position that phenomena are merely
student to engage in a practice 17, aspects of the mind, also discussed in
31–4, 39, 54–5, 59, 85–7, 91, 103, mahayana sutras such as the
108, 111, 119, 169, 189, 200, 205, Laṅkāvatāra 171–2, 174–5, 184,
207, 212n15, 214n18, 217n13, 219n4, n5, 235n14, 239n36
220n11, 222n33, 228n23, 232–3n30,
237n14, 239n28, zazen, see sitting meditation
256

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What is the book about?

What is the book about?

What are some of the meditation techniques discussed?

What are some of the meditation techniques discussed?

sam van schaik

YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS

Set in Arno Pro by IDSUK (DataConnection) Ltd

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018942946

The International Sacred Literature Trust was established to promote

PART I Introducing Zen 1

1 The Practice of Zen 3

PART II The Masters of the Lanka 83

6 Manuscripts and Translation 85

In this book, I have tried to strike a balance between introducing

You don’t have to sign up for anything other than an introduc-

Turning to the scholarly side of this book, this is my first published

by the Dunhuang Manuscript Full Text Digitization Project. In the

THE PRACTICE OF ZEN

though it is the nature of the universe to change, so at some point we

The nature of mind

is not a journey from A to B, but a gradual realization of something that

Huike said to Bodhidharma: ‘My mind is anxious, please pacify it.’

zazen – the practice of ‘just sitting’ known as shikantaza and the

the English word ‘enlightenment’ which may cover quite different

They make a distinction between enlightenment, nirvana and

Thus the path of Zen is a continuous path to awakening. The bodhisat-

The ethics of Zen

Refrain from unwholesome action.

Here, ethics and the transformation of one’s mind go hand in hand.

Great is the robe of liberation,

In this and other ways, the ethical precepts of Mahayana Buddhism

The first spoonful is to end unwholesome actions.

Zen and emptiness

Emptiness means letting go of the clinging to our conceptual

Giving without giving

This is why it is necessary to ‘kill’ our concepts so that reality can

Sudden and gradual

meditate or do any other practice? Such questions are often answered

The path to awakening

The spirit of Zen

‘Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water; after enlighten-

My day-to-day activities are no more

ZEN AND THE WEST

is so markedly different from any other form of Buddhism, one

Varieties of Religious Experience. In his view, Zen is beyond religion

The idea that the goal of meditation is not specifically Buddhist,

There is still a significant trend inspired by this separation of

separation of ‘spirituality’ from ‘religion’. For example, the neuroscien-

The purification of Zen

laity. It so happened that some of the most influential Japanese Zen

In a similar way, Alan Watts and other popularizers of Zen in the

Zen and the art of . . .

An interesting example is in the discourse of programming and

Lisp is worth learning for the profound enlightenment experience

This illustrates another feature of Zen that has entered secular

The application of Zen principles to the arts of battle is sometimes

Beyond this life

After settling in New York, Sokei-an taught Zen to American

The purpose of Zen Center is to express, make accessible, and