"All
my teaching issues from the conception of one's own nature, and those who assert
the existence of anything outside it betray their ignorance of its nature. Shila,
samadhi and prajna - conduct, meditation and wisdom - all these are forms of one's
own nature. When there is nothing wrong in it, we have shila; when it is free
from ignorance, it is prajna; when it is not disturbed, it is samadhi."
Fa-pao-t'an-ching
HUI-NENG
Hung-jen, the fifth patriarch of the Ch'an Buddhist tradition,
died in 675 C.E., about four years after the emergence of Shen-hsiu as the sixth
patriarch. Sixteen years after Shen-hsiu began his work as the spiritual guide
of Northern Ch'an, Hui-neng emerged in the south. Also a disciple of Hung-jen,
he enunciated a doctrine of direct insight into reality and challenged the view
that enlightenment is a linear result of a long, gradual and steady discipline
in dhyana and shila, meditation and right conduct. His work is preserved in the
Fa-pao-t'an-ching (Platform Sutra), the only Chinese text which has been elevated
to the status of scripture. His followers strongly dissented from the accepted
teachings of Northern Ch'an, resisted them and eventually swept them aside, so
that Hui-neng has since been considered the sixth patriarch, and his school has
been the source and inspiration of subsequent Ch'an and Zen traditions.
According
to the Platform Sutra, Hui-neng was born to a high government official in 638.
While he was still very young, his father fell from grace and was banished, only
to die shortly thereafter. Reduced to extreme poverty, Hui-neng and his mother
became wood sellers in South China. Exceptionally intelligent but without the
means to obtain an education, Hui-neng learnt from the marketplace, even though
he was illiterate. One day he happened to hear a stranger reciting verses from
the Diamond Sutra. When he heard the words "Let your mind function freely,
without abiding anywhere or in anything", Hui-neng was awakened by a remarkable
insight into his own true mind. He asked the stranger about the lines and discovered
that the reciter was a disciple of Hung-jen, the fifth Ch'an patriarch, who taught
that assimilation of the Diamond Sutra could lead to enlightenment. Hui-neng quickly
set about making arrangements for the welfare of his mother so that he could travel
to Yellow Plum Mountain, where Hung-jen taught, five hundred miles to the north.
When
Hui-neng reached his destination, he presented himself to the fifth patriarch,
who asked him whence he came.
"I am a farmer from Hsin-chou," Hui-neng
answered, "and I wish to become a Buddha."
"You are a southerner,"
Hung-jen retorted, "and southerners have no Buddha-nature. How then can you
expect to attain it?"
Fearlessly, Hui-neng replied, "There are southerners
and northerners, but how can you make a distinction in Buddha- nature?"
Deeply
pleased by this cheeky but insightful response, Hung-jen gave no indication of
his feelings other than allowing Hui-neng to remain in the monastery as the rice-pounder
for the community. For eight months Hui-neng stayed at his task, largely ignored
by the other disciples, doing his duty, and secretly watched by the fifth patriarch.
Then Hung-jen announced his wish to retire from active guidance of the Ch'an community
and invited monks to compose verses expressing understanding of the Teaching.
If one demonstrated a truly enlightened insight, its author would be made patriarch.
Most of the monks felt unworthy to enter such a strict contest, and the rest believed
that Shen-hsiu was their superior. Shen-hsiu quietly composed a verse and posted
it near the entrance to the meditation hall:
This body is the Bodhi tree;
The
mind is a mirror bright:
Carefully cleanse them hour by hour,
And let no
dust alight.
The fifth patriarch praised the verse, burnt incense before it
and instructed the monks to contemplate it. Upon reading the verse, Hui-neng composed
another one to be placed beside it:
There is no Bodhi tree;
The bright mirror
is nowhere shining:
Since there is Void from the first,
Where can the dust
alight?
Whether or not these verses were actually composed by their putative
authors, they illustrate the fundamental difference between Northern and Southern
Ch'an and between the gradual and sudden approaches to enlightenment. According
to the Platform Sutra, Hung-jen recognized the merits of Shen-hsiu's verse publicly,
but secretly gave the robe and the law to Hui-neng, warning him to go into hiding
in the south until the time was ripe for his public teaching. Hui-neng fled to
the south, and it is said that some monks pursued him to capture the robe of the
patriarchate. When the most athletic of the monks finally caught up with Hui-neng,
he was overwhelmed by the presence of the sixth patriarch. Rather than seize the
robe of office, he respectfully requested instruction. Hui-neng said, "Not
thinking of good, not thinking of evil, tell me what was your original face before
your mother and father were born?" Upon hearing this remarkable query, the
pursuer attained enlightenment. This statement became the hallmark of Hui-neng's
teaching. Methodologically, it illustrates the pithy utterances which stun the
mind by defying logic and yet point to the truth. Philosophically, it declares
the fundamental Ch'an teaching that all beings always have the Buddha-nature (the
'original face') and that it needs to be recovered, not created. Ontologically,
it asserts that the Buddha-nature is prior to shila and samadhi, ethics and meditation.
It is, in fact, equivalent to prajna, wisdom. Psychologically, it teaches the
therapy of transcendence or of radically letting go in contrast to adjustment
and directed maturation.
After living quietly in the south for sixteen years,
Hui-neng made his way to Kuang-chou (now Canton) and visited the famous Fa-hsing
Temple. There he found some monks arguing over a banner waving in the breeze.
"The pennant is inanimate," one monk said, "and the wind makes
it flap."
"But," interjected a second monk, "both wind
and banner are inanimate, and the waving is an impossibility."
Yet a third
added, "The flapping is due to a coincidence of cause and condition."
And
a fourth insisted, "The banner does not flap; only the wind moves by itself."
Realizing
that the time to declare himself had come, Hui-neng declared, "Neither wind
nor banner but your own mind flaps." Stunned, the monks knew that they stood
before a great teacher. He consented to deliver several discourses at Fa-hsing,
but soon returned to the Pao-lin Temple at Ts'ao-hsi, where he taught disciples
for forty years. Despite the existence of the Platform Sutra, said to have been
written down by a disciple while Hui-neng discoursed from a platform, his teachings
are not systematic. Several rather different recensions of the text survive and
show that much material was added, for it is not in the oldest version found in
the Tun-huang Caves. Just as there is reason to believe that Hui-neng departed
significantly from his predecessors in method and doctrine, there is equal reason
to doubt that he saw himself in competition with Shen-hsiu. Once Shen-hsiu recommended
to the imperial court that Hui-neng be invited to the capital to give instruction,
but Hui-neng declined. Though their disciples became vigorous opponents, the two
patriarchs seem to have maintained distant but warm and respectful relations.
Hui-neng was nonetheless convinced that the gradual path to enlightenment, however
useful in focussing the mind and ordering one's life, could not lead to enlightenment.
Hui-neng
elaborated these ideas when a messenger from Emperor Kao-tsung asked for instruction
to be carried back to the imperial court. He rejected formal dhyana practices
because they tend to externalize the practice of meditation, while Ch'an unfolds
from within. It stands, like the Tathagata, beyond conditionality.
Everything
is a manifestation of the Buddha-nature, which is not defiled in passions or purified
in enlightenment. It is above all categories. If you want to see the nature of
your being, free your mind from thoughts of relativity and you will see by yourself
its serenity and its plenitude of life.
From this standpoint, sitting in meditation
takes on new meaning. For Hui-neng, 'sitting' means being free of obstructions,
a stilling of the mind so that thoughts cease to distract it. 'Meditation' means
seeing one's original nature without confusion. Meditation is, therefore, prajna
- wisdom and insight - and enlightenment. If one has successfully sat in meditation,
one will be sitting in meditation whatever one does. Given this perspective, it
is natural to emphasize the attentive performance of everyday duties and actions
rather than formalized practices. Hui-neng wished to expunge every element of
drama from the spiritual life.
Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of Hui-neng's
teaching is his elaboration of wu-nien, translated variously as 'no-mind', 'not
thinking', 'no thought' and even 'unconscious'. A literal rendering of the Sanskrit
asmriti, 'forgetfulness' or 'lack of meaning', Hui-neng held that wu-nien is the
original nature of consciousness and the goal of threefold emancipation: shunyata,
animitta and apranihita - voidness, formlessness and effortlessness. Wu-nien is
both reality and the consciousness which realizes it, because any distinction
between them would constitute a subtle duality - the source of all ignorance and
suffering. Thus meditation (dhyana) and wisdom (prajna) are one.
In my teaching,
there is no distinction between dhyana and prajna. Dhyana is the body of prajna,
and prajna is the function of dhyana. When you have prajna, dhyana is in prajna.
When you have dhyana, prajna is in dhyana. They are one and not two.
For Hui-neng,
wu-nien is equivalent to the dharmakaya, the body of truth and reality. Emancipation
from the trap of identifying with one or another form is not escape from the world
of objects and mental processes. Rather, one is emancipated from forms when one
ceases to be attached to them whilst recognizing their presence.
Wu-nien does
not abide anywhere, whereas ordinary conscious ness, which is ignorant, deluded
and alienated from its original nature, ceaselessly alights here and there, having
one thought after another. Consciousness in this condition moves through endless
divisions of time, never halting, restlessly passing from thought to thought.
Wu-nien is consciousness in a condition of innocence in respect to the operation
of the relative mind. Wu-nien is no-thought if contrasted with the thinking of
the unenlightened, but it cannot be considered the extinction of consciousness.
It is the replacement of involvement with relativities by realization of the Absolute.
Wu-nien is pure thought, original consciousness, thought without an object. When
a disciple asked the sixth patriarch about meditation and wu-nien, Hui-neng replied:
Have
your mind like unto space and yet entertain in it no thought of emptiness. Then
the truth will have its full dynamics unimpeded. Every movement of yours will
come out of an innocent heart, and the ignorant and the wise will have an equal
treatment in your hands.
Since the mind is either moving or wu-nien, prajna
cannot be considered incremental. In other words, partial or relative wisdom is
not wisdom, even if it is a reflection of it. For Hui-neng and other Chinese Buddhist
teachers, prajna is best translated by tun-~u, which means 'immediate understanding'.
Hui-neng did not denigrate degrees of insight, but he saw that failure to see
clearly the difference between a high level of discipline, training, concentration
and abstraction on the one side, and pure wisdom on the other, leads to confusion
and a tenacious delusion. No degree of insight, however sublime, has enlightenment
as its next step, any more than infinity is the next member of a numerical series.
Therefore enlightenment is sudden. Since it is not relative, the distinctions
which might be made between truth, enlightenment, wisdom and insight collapse
into one reality, pointed to in a variety of ways. Enlightenment is not the addition
of anything previously absent in consciousness or the restoration of anything
previously lost. It is the unveiling of one's original nature, eternal and ever
present, though obscured by relative consciousness.
When the light of prajna
penetrates the ground nature of consciousness, it illumines inside and outside.
Everything grows transparent, and one recognizes one's inmost mind. To recognize
the inmost mind is emancipation. . . . It is to retain perfect freedom in coming
and going.
Copyright 2000 Theosophy Library Online