Said Ta-tien, “No such things have I.”
“If so, you may enter the gate.”
Tao-wu asked: “What is the ultimate teaching of Buddhism?”
“You won't understand it until you have it.”
“Is there anything over and above it whereby one may have a new turn?”
“Boundlessly expands the sky and nothing obstructs the white clouds from freely flying about.”
“What is Zen?” asked a monk.
“Brick and stone.”
“What is the Tao?”
“A block of wood.”
[1]Someone asked Ma-tsu: “How does a man discipline himself in the Tao?”
The master replied: “In the Tao there is nothing to discipline oneself in. If there is any discipline in it, the completion of such discipline means the destruction of the Tao. One then will be like the Sravaka. But if there is no discipline whatever in the Tao, one remains an ignoramus.”
“By what kind of understanding does a man attain the Tao?”
On this, the master gave the following sermon:
“The Tao in its nature is from the first perfect and self-sufficient. When a man finds himself unhalting in his management of the affairs of life good or bad, he is known as one who is disciplined in the Tao. To shun evils and to become attached to things good, to meditate on Emptiness and to enter into a state of samadhi—this is doing something. If those who run after an outward object, they are the farthest away [from the Tao].
Only let a man exhaust all his thinking and imagining he can possibly have in the triple world. When even an iota of imagination is left with him, this is his triple world and the source of birth and death in it. When there is not a trace of imagination, he has removed all the source of birth and death, he then holds the unparalleled treasure belonging to the Dharmaraja. All the imagination harboured since the beginningless past by an ignorant being, together with his falsehood, flattery, self-conceit, arrogance, and other evil passions, are united in the body of One Essence, and all melt away.
“It is said in the sutra that many elements combine themselves to make this body of ours, and that the rising of the body merely means the rising together of all these elements and the disappearance of the body means also merely that of the elements. When the latter rise, they do not declare that they are now to rise; when they disappear they do not declare that they are now to disappear.
So with thoughts, one thought follows another without interruption, the preceding one does not wait for the succeeding, each one is self-contained and quiescent. This is called the Sagaramudra-samadhi, “Meditation of the Ocean-stamp”, in which are included all things, like the ocean where all the rivers however different in size, etc., empty themselves. In this great ocean of one salt-water, all the waters in it partake of one and the same taste. A man living in it diffuses himself in all the streams pouring into it. A man bathing in the great ocean uses all the waters emptied into it.
“The Sravaka is enlightened and yet going astray; the ordinary man is out of the right path and yet in a way enlightened. The Sravaka fails to perceive that Mind as it is in itself knows no stages, no causation, no imaginations. Disciplining himself in the cause he has attained the result and abides in the Samadhi of Emptiness itself for ever so many kalpas. However enlightened in his way, the Sravaka is not at all on the right track. From the point of view of the Bodhisattva, this is like suffering the torture of hell. The Sravaka has buried himself in emptiness and does not know how to get out of his quiet contemplation, for he has no insight into the Buddha-nature itself.
If a man is of superior character and intelligence he will, under the instruction of a wise director, at once see into the essence of the thing and understand that this is not a matter of stages and processes. He has an instant insight into his own Original Nature. So we read in the sutra that ordinary beings change in their thoughts but the Sravaka knows no such changes [which means that he never comes out of his meditation of absolute quietude].
“‘Going astray’ stands against ‘being enlightened’; but when there is primarily no going astray there is no being enlightened either. All beings since the beginningless past have never been outside the Dharma-essence itself; abiding for ever in the midst of the Dharma-essence, they eat, they are clothed, they talk, they respond; all the functioning of the six senses, all their doings are of the Dharma-essence itself. When they fail to understand to go back to the Source they follow names, pursue forms, allow confusing imaginations to rise, and cultivate all kinds of karma. Let them once in one thought return to the Source and their entire being will be of Buddha-mind.
“O monks, let each of you see into his own Mind. Do not memorize what I tell you. However eloquently I may talk about all kinds of things as innumerable as the sands of the Ganges, the Mind shows no increase; even when no talk is possible, the Mind shows no decrease. You may talk ever so much about it, and it is still your own Mind; you may not at all talk about it, and it is just the same your own Mind. You may divide your body into so many forms, and emitting rays of supernatural light perform the eighteen miracles, and yet what you have gained is after all no more than your own dead ashes.
“The dead ashes thoroughly wet have no vitality and are likened to the Sravaka's disciplining himself in the cause in order to attain its result. The dead ashes not yet wet are full of vitality and are likened to the Bodhisattva, whose life in the Tao is pure and not at all dyed in evils. If I begin to talk about the various teachings given out by the Tathagata, there will be no end however long through ages I may go on. They are like an endless series of chains. But once you have an insight into the Buddha-mind, nothing in Lore is left to you to attain.
“I have kept you standing long enough, fare you well!”
P'ang the lay-disciple[2] asked one day when Ma-tsu appeared in the pulpit: “Here is the Original Body altogether unbedimmed! Raise your eyes to it!” Ma-tsu looked straight downward. Said Fang, “How beautifully the master plays on the first-class stringless lute!” The master looked straight up. P'ang made a bow, and the master returned to his own room. Fang followed him and said, “A while ago you made a fool of yourself, did you not?”
Someone asked: “What is the Buddha?”
“Mind is the Buddha, and there's no other.”
A monk asked: “Without resorting to the four statements and an endless series of negations, can you tell me straightway what is the idea of our Patriarch's coming from the West?”
The master said: “I don't feel like answering it today. You go to the Western Hall and ask Shih-tsang about it.”
The monk went to the Western Hall and saw the priest, who pointing at his head with a finger said, “My head aches today and I am unable to explain it to you today. I advise you to go to Brother Hai.”
The monk now called on Hai, and Hai said: “As to that I do not understand.”
The monk finally returned to the master and told him about his adventure. Said the master: “Tsang's head is black while Hai's is white.”
A monk asked: “Why do you teach that Mind is no other than Buddha?”
“In order to make a child stop its crying.”
“When the crying is stopped, what would you say?”
“Neither Mind nor Buddha.”
“What teaching would you give to him who is not in these two groups?”
“I will say, ‘It is not a something.’”
“If you unexpectedly interview a person who is in it what would you do?” finally, asked the monk.
“I will let him realize the great Tao.”
The master asked Pai-chang, one of his chief disciples: “How would you teach others?”