Other Dharma Masters: The Path to Buddhahood (Colloquial Version by Master Hongzheng)

Chapter 1: Reverence for the Triple Gem

To ordinary people, the ocean is vast and boundless. Sentient beings take all worldly phenomena as truly "existent," and so cling to that notion of "existence," drowning in it with no way to escape. It is like falling into the ocean and being unable to find the shore, unable to gain liberation. The world's suffering is incalculable, present everywhere. Sentient beings endlessly cycle in this sea of birth and death — birth upon birth, death upon death, never ceasing. So where can one find a refuge strong enough to carry sentient beings out of this great sea of suffering, this cycle of rebirth?

Some might think wealth and valuables are our refuge. Yet we have seen too many people, despite vast fortunes, lose everything overnight to the five calamities — flood, fire, warfare, theft, and other disasters. Even with immense wealth, they cannot escape birth and death. Others may believe that high status can control everything, but have we not seen powerful and high-ranking people end up as prisoners? And even those who don't become prisoners will, one day, step down from their positions.

In this world, gatherings and partings are everywhere. Where there is gathering, separation is destined to follow; where there is birth, death is certain. A country, no matter how well it is governed, will one day fall into chaos. The physical world has many great architectural achievements, but they too will eventually be destroyed. This is what is meant by formation, abiding, dissolution, and emptiness. None of the so-called "pleasures" we pursue in the world are lasting; none can serve as a permanent refuge for sentient beings, because everything is impermanent. What is impermanent cannot be a refuge.

Some in the world take ghosts and deities as their refuge, or take refuge in the heavens. But ghosts and deities are fierce and bloodthirsty — take refuge in them, and the moment you transgress, you invite misfortune. The heavenly beings of the desire realm are lost in the pleasures of the five senses; once their heavenly merit runs out, they fall into the evil realms. So they too cannot be the ultimate refuge. Brahma, though he surpasses ghosts, deities, and the desire-realm gods, abides in meditation with a mind of pride. Because of that pride, he will eventually fall and cannot attain ultimate nirvana. So he too cannot be the ultimate refuge for us sentient beings.

Wise sentient beings, longing to end birth and death and leave behind the suffering of cyclic existence, search everywhere for the ultimate refuge. They look to the ten directions and find nothing. Finally, they discover that only the Triple Gem is most auspicious — that it alone can serve as our ultimate refuge, freeing us from the suffering of cyclic existence and granting the supreme bliss of liberation.

So why is the Triple Gem the most auspicious ultimate refuge for sentient beings?

First, taking refuge in the Buddha. The Buddha is a great awakened being who has realized the truth of the universe and of human life, utterly unlike us ordinary beings. We ordinary beings take the four great elements and the five aggregates as our physical body and sustain our lives with worldly food and drink. The great Buddha, however, takes the true Dharma as his body and pure wisdom as his life. The true Dharma is the actual reality of the universe and of human life that the Buddha realized. The wisdom that realizes this reality is like the bright autumn moon, illuminating sky and earth, allowing sentient beings to see clearly all things in the world even in the darkest night.

Since the Buddha is an awakened being of great wisdom who sees clearly into the truth of the universe and human life, we should revere him with the highest respect: we bow and touch his feet with our precious heads, to show our refuge and reverence. Buddhas are countless — there are Buddhas in the ten directions and across the three times. Yet among all these Buddhas, one in particular has an affinity with the sentient beings of this saha world. Pitying us, who live in this world of five turbidities, he came to this realm of suffering out of the vow of great compassion, expounded the true Dharma, and guided and saved us, pitiful sentient beings. This is our great original teacher, Shakyamuni Buddha.

He is called the Buddha because he possesses perfect, complete wisdom — the wisdom that knows both the general nature and the specific characteristics of all things in the universe. The Buddha possesses not only this great wisdom, but also great compassion. Yet his compassion is unlike that of ordinary beings or the limited compassion of the two vehicles; the Buddha's compassion is boundless. He has already cut off the afflictive obstructions and the cognitive obstructions, along with every habitual tendency, and he possesses the three merits of cutting, realization, and wisdom. Although the Buddha has already seen the general nature of all phenomena — the nature of emptiness — sentient beings have different capacities. So he employs all manner of skillful means to manifest the specific, dependently originated characteristics of worldly phenomena, guiding sentient beings from those specific characteristics to the realization of the general nature, emptiness.

In his various teachings, the Buddha uses two metaphors — the Pit in a Mound and the Empty Village — to illustrate his points, because sentient beings do not understand the principle of dependent origination and emptiness, and cling to a real self and real phenomena, unaware that everything exists through dependent origination. We sentient beings in this suffering world are like the man in the pit, our lives in danger at every moment, yet oblivious to impermanence approaching and drowning instead.

The Pit in a Mound metaphor: In ancient India, a prisoner escaped from jail. The king ordered his men to release a mad elephant to chase and trample the fugitive to death as punishment. The man fled from place to place, escaping the elephant's pursuit. Suddenly, in the middle of a desert, he fell into a dry well. As he plummeted, he grabbed a vine and hung suspended in mid-air. Looking up, the mad elephant had caught up with him, and four snakes were slithering at the edge of the well; looking down, a great snake with its mouth wide open waited for him to drop. He could neither climb up nor climb down. Just then, one black and one white mouse began gnawing at the vine he clung to. He was terrified beyond measure, gasping with his mouth open. As he gasped, drops of honey dripped from above into his mouth. The fugitive tasted the honey's sweetness, was overjoyed, and immediately indulged in it — completely forgetting he was still in mortal danger. In this metaphor: the elephant represents impermanence; the fugitive represents us, suffering sentient beings; the dry well represents the abyss of birth and death; the vine represents sentient beings' life force; the venomous snake below represents the pressure of death; the four snakes at the well's edge represent the four great elements; the black and white mice represent the passage of day and night; the honey represents the pleasures of the five senses. The metaphor shows how we sentient beings, at all times subject to impermanence and the pressure of birth and death, are so entangled by the pleasures of the five senses that we forget our perilous situation.

The Empty Village metaphor: A man offended the king, and the king ordered him to carry a box containing four snakes. If he was careless, the snakes could crawl out and bite him to death. A wise person warned him, so he set the box down and ran. Five jailers guarding him drew steel swords and pursued him. The man ran to an empty village, about to rest, but the wise person told him there were bandits in the village who would kill and rob. So he charged forward again, only to find a great river blocking his path. Pursuers behind, river ahead — what could he do? Survival came first. He fashioned a raft from branches and crossed the river. Once on the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief, for he had reached another country. In this metaphor: the king represents the demon king; the four snakes represent the four great elements — when the four elements fall out of balance, illness arises; the five pursuers represent the five aggregates; fleeing represents the search for the path to liberation from birth and death; the empty village represents the impermanent six sense bases; the bandits of the empty village represent sentient beings' failure to understand the impermanence of the six sense bases, and their attachment to external objects; the great river represents the great river of birth and death; the wise person is the Buddha; the raft is the path to liberation (the true Dharma); reaching the other shore represents attaining liberation.

This is the impermanence of all conditioned phenomena. Moreover, sentient beings do not know there is no self and cling to the existence of a self, not knowing that the self is like the empty village — enter it searching for someone, and there is no one there. Thus we should understand that this shore is impermanent, while the bliss of nirvana is tranquil. So we should abandon this shore and pursue the bliss of nirvana's tranquility on the far shore, where there is no birth, aging, sickness, or death. Therefore we should praise the Buddha's true Dharma, for this true Dharma can keep sentient beings far from greed and prevent them from falling into the five turbid evil worlds of the three lower realms. What is the true Dharma? The true Dharma is truly wondrous beyond words — beyond what ordinary beings or followers of the two vehicles can fathom.

But this true Dharma is a wholesome Dharma: it guides people toward goodness and away from the unwholesome. It is pure because it guides people away from defilement. If sentient beings take this true Dharma as their refuge, they will surely abide in lasting happiness. This true Dharma — "commit no evil, do all good" — is the path by which past Buddhas cultivated and awakened. So if we sentient beings practice in accordance with this true Dharma, we will surely attain the nirvana that is free from birth and death.

The Buddha uses this true Dharma to transform and gather the Sangha Jewel. What is the Sangha Jewel? The Sangha is founded on harmony, love of the Dharma, and purity — it embodies the six harmonies of worldly accord and shared realization: equal sharing of benefits, shared joy of mind, shared understanding of views, shared practice of precepts, shared dwelling in body, and harmony in speech without contention. Thus we should reverence the Sangha Jewel. Because the Sangha is defined by harmony, it is revered among all groups. We sentient beings should respect the Sangha Jewel, refrain from harsh criticism, and not measure monastics by our own standards — for monastics are people who follow the Buddha and cultivate the true Dharma.

After the Buddha's parinirvana, the Sangha Jewel must take on the responsibility of upholding the Dharma Citadel. What is the Dharma Citadel? Using a city as a metaphor: a city has a defensive function, making it hard for outside enemies to invade. Taking the true Dharma as a citadel makes it hard for false Dharma to invade. But who can uphold the true Dharma and pass it down? Only the Sangha Jewel. (Today, some people take refuge in the Buddha and Dharma Jewels but not the Sangha Jewel, which truly goes against the Buddha's intent. The reasoning is simple: when people see monastics, they know there is Buddhism; but when they see a lay follower, they don't necessarily recognize Buddhism, because a layperson's appearance is no different from that of any ordinary worldly being.)

Why do we take refuge in the Triple Gem? Because the Triple Gem possesses true, real virtues, enabling us to distance ourselves from afflictive defilements and realize the pure, undefiled Dharma. The Buddha possesses perfect, complete wisdom and understands the different capacities of sentient beings, so he teaches and saves people accordingly, never departing from the two truths of ultimate and conventional. He sees all phenomena through the lens of ultimate truth and establishes all phenomena according to conventional truth, moving from ultimate to conventional, from conventional to ultimate, with the two truths being non-dual. This is how the Buddha's teachings endure.

Because of the supreme merits of the Triple Gem, we sentient beings should vow from the depths of our hearts to take refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha for our entire lives. With utmost sincerity, we offer all manner of gifts to the Buddha, to the Dharma, and to the Sangha, and we never forget the supreme beneficial virtues of the Triple Gem. This refuge from the heart is the most noble and supreme, for the happiness and peace we gain from taking refuge in the Triple Gem cannot be obtained by taking refuge in anything else. The refuge we speak of must have faith and aspiration as its essence; we must not only take shelter in the Triple Gem but also turn our hearts toward it. Only by relying on the Triple Gem can we sentient beings cross over and escape the cycle of birth and death in the six realms.

If we sentient beings can not only take refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha from our hearts but also take refuge in the Buddha of our intrinsic nature, the Dharma of our intrinsic nature, and the Sangha of our intrinsic nature (see the Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch), we will find, as the Platform Sutra states, that the Buddha means awakening, the Dharma means rightness, and the Sangha means purity. To take refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha of our intrinsic nature is to take refuge in awakening, rightness, and purity. Since sentient beings' intrinsic nature already possesses awakening, rightness, and purity, anyone who understands this principle understands the true meaning of refuge.

Chapter 2: Entering the Dharma Through Hearing

Buddhism places special emphasis on hearing, contemplation, and practice: first hearing the Buddha's teachings, then contemplating them well, then practicing in accordance with the Dharma. Of the three, hearing the Dharma is most important, because only by hearing the Dharma can one enter the Buddha's path. So we now praise the merits of hearing the Dharma.

By hearing the Buddha's teachings, sentient beings can understand all worldly phenomena and distinguish the wholesome from the unwholesome. Once they understand the difference, they can abandon evil and follow goodness. By hearing the true Dharma, sentient beings learn which teachings genuinely help cultivation and which incorrect views are useless and meaningless. After hearing the Dharma, sentient beings can contemplate well, generate correct views, practice in accordance with the Dharma, and attain the supreme liberation of nirvana.

But when sentient beings hear the Dharma, they should be careful to avoid three faults. The first is like a vessel held upside down — it cannot hold water. The second is like a vessel already filled with filth and poison — the water it holds will not be clean. The third is like a vessel with a crack — the water will slowly leak out. It is also like planting seeds in the ground: drop the seeds on sand and gravel, and they will not sprout; plant them amid overgrown weeds, and they will be choked and cannot grow strong; plant them too shallow, and the wind will blow them away before they can take root, and even if they sprout, they will easily be killed by the wind. Here the water vessel and the seeds are analogies for the nature of sentient beings' minds. If sentient beings cannot concentrate while hearing the Dharma, they hear without truly hearing — as the common saying goes, "in one ear and out the other." Or they may hear the Dharma while already holding incorrect views; even though they hear the true Dharma, they are not moved by it, and the true Dharma becomes mixed up with defiled views, so they can no longer tell which is which. Or, even though they hear the true Dharma, their minds are scattered and they cannot retain it, gradually forgetting what they heard. Therefore, when we sentient beings hear the true Dharma, we should be careful to avoid these three faults: we need a focused mind, free of distracting thoughts, inwardly quiet and clear, listening attentively, contemplating well, and remembering without losing.

How do we accomplish this? First, we must recognize ourselves as sick. We sentient beings suffer from the disease of birth and death in saṃsāra — a disease caused by ignorance and afflictions that have been with us since beginningless time, one that won't heal on its own. So how can we be freed from this illness? The true Dharma we hear now is the medicine. The Buddha and his disciples are the physicians. When we listen to the Dharma, then, we should reflect on it as the remedy for our afflictions — the very best medicine for the suffering of endless rebirth. Only with this attitude can we take the Dharma we hear and put it into practice as the Buddha taught. The Buddha's words are like a mirror: hearing them, we can distinguish right view from wrong view, wholesome qualities from unwholesome ones. We should nurture what is right and good, and turn away from what is misguided and harmful.

Those who have heard the Dharma and wish to enter the path should seek out spiritual friends. A true spiritual friend has not only realized the Dharma through practice — embodying the training of precepts, meditation, and wisdom — but also has the ability to guide others. Having penetrated the true nature of reality, and moved by compassion for all beings, they teach through various skillful means, helping others enter the Dharma.

Since spiritual friends are our guides, we should learn from their virtues rather than look for their faults — following what is good in them, not what falls short. We should listen to and respect the teachers who guide us in the Dharma, without any thought of defiance or rebellion. Why? Because only the Buddha has fully severed both afflictions and their latent tendencies. Every other being, before attaining Buddhahood, still has traces remaining — even arhats have cut off afflictions but retain habitual tendencies. So we seek the Dharma, not others' shortcomings. Because it is through spiritual friends that we can attain unsurpassed, complete enlightenment, both we and they are said to fulfill the pure life. Since we come to this fulfillment through their guidance, we should hold them in deep respect.

But under what conditions can we actually hear the true Dharma? First, we must be free from the three lower realms — the hells, the hungry ghosts, and the animals — since these realms are filled with suffering and the Dharma is absent from them. Nor should we be born in the heavens of long life, where beings are so absorbed in pleasure that they cannot recognize suffering, and so never develop the aspiration to hear the Dharma. The best circumstances are to be born when a Buddha is present, or in a land where the Dharma flourishes (here, "Middle Kingdom" doesn't mean the modern nation of China, but any country where the Buddha or his teachings can be found). We should also have all our faculties intact and possess right understanding and right view, so as not to fall in with teachers of wrong views.

In the round of birth and death across the six realms, far more beings are born into the lower realms than into the higher ones — the human and heavenly realms. To be born as a human, then, is extraordinarily rare. Some may ask: why strive for human birth? Isn't birth as a celestial being just as good? It's true that celestial birth is pleasant, but for a Buddhist practitioner, human existence offers three advantages that make it far easier to practice and attain awakening. First, humans have superior memory: we can recall our past actions and words with clarity and precision. Second, humans are better suited to pure conduct: we can keep precepts and abandon impure behavior. Third, humans are capable of greater diligence: we can practice the good and turn away from sensual indulgence. Why do these surpass the celestial condition? Celestial beings are so caught up in heavenly pleasures that they easily forget the suffering of saṃsāra. The human realm is different — precisely because we encounter hardship here, renunciation arises naturally. This is why the patriarchs often say, "Human birth is hard to obtain; the Dharma is hard to encounter."

The Dharma is hard to hear — and yet we have heard it. Human birth is hard to obtain — and yet here we are. We should seize this rare and precious opportunity and practice with diligence and vigor, living in accord with the Dharma. Don't let this life go to waste. It would be like someone who stumbles into a mountain full of treasure but, unable to recognize what they've found, walks away empty-handed.

We sentient beings have the rare fortune of hearing the true Dharma and the aspiration to practice it. Yet because beings differ in their capacities — in how deeply they can understand and how easily they can practice — the teachings come in various forms:

1. The Human and Heavenly Vehicle: for those of lesser capacity, who seek favorable rebirth in the human or celestial realms, pursuing the happiness and blessings those realms offer.
2. The Śrāvaka Vehicle: for those of middling capacity, who develop renunciation, grow weary of the three realms, and seek the bliss of nirvāṇa and liberation. (Those of middling capacity take nirvāṇa as their ultimate aim. Once they attain it, they abide in its bliss and do not wish to return to the three realms or the six paths to deliver other beings — they have grown weary of saṃsāra, and having gained freedom, have no desire to reenter it.)
3. The Bodhisattva Vehicle: for those of superior capacity, who generate bodhicitta — the aspiration to attain Buddhahood for the sake of all beings. They seek awakening through wisdom and deliver beings through compassion. With this wisdom, they can attain the ultimate bliss of nirvāṇa, that is, unsurpassed, complete enlightenment.

Among these three: those of lesser capacity who practice the Human and Heavenly Vehicle can eventually give rise to the aspiration of those of middling capacity — the Śrāvaka and Pratyekabuddha path. And those of middling capacity can in turn give rise to the aspiration of those of superior capacity — the supreme vehicle of ultimate liberation. This is what we often call "turning from the lesser vehicle to the greater." And from the other direction, the supreme vehicle naturally encompasses the middle and lower teachings. Because beings have different capacities, the Buddha, meeting them where they are, skillfully expounded the five vehicles (human, heavenly, śrāvaka, pratyekabuddha, and bodhisattva [i.e., Buddha] vehicles) and the three vehicles (śrāvaka, pratyekabuddha, and bodhisattva [i.e., Buddha] vehicles). But whether five or three, these are all skillful means the Buddha offered to guide beings toward one single destination — the one Buddha vehicle. We should understand, then, that even if we practice the human and heavenly vehicle, the śrāvaka vehicle, or the pratyekabuddha vehicle, we're not aiming at the states of celestial beings, śrāvakas, or pratyekabuddhas as an end in themselves. Our aim is ultimately to attain Buddhahood. As the patriarchs put it: "Seeking heaven, one is not born in heaven; one vows to be born before the Buddha." Conversely, even if we practice the bodhisattva vehicle — the Mahāyāna — we don't discard the middle and lower vehicles. Instead, we fully integrate them and direct everything toward the Buddha vehicle. Nor should we, thinking ourselves people of Mahāyāna capacity, look down on the lower teachings as incomplete and slander them. Once we truly understand the Buddha's skillful methods, we'll recognize that the middle and lower teachings are also the true Dharma, and we must never dismiss them as wrong or corrupt.

Chapter 3: The Shared Dharmas of the Five Vehicles

Now that we've established right faith in the Dharma and taken refuge in it, the next step is to cultivate right view. With right view as our foundation, we should earn our livelihood by proper means, supporting our lives through honest work. Once we have right faith, right view, and right livelihood, our progress on the path will be remarkable — and we'll meet no obstacles we can't overcome.

The worldly right view the Buddha spoke of is simply a correct perspective on human life — what we might call a sound outlook on existence.

As a sincere Buddhist practitioner, we should constantly examine our mind: is it pure or defiled? Are our actions helping others or causing harm? Above all, we need to distinguish clearly between wholesome and unwholesome conduct.

Every being experiences karmic results, and these results inevitably flow from the various actions we've committed in the past. We shouldn't dismiss small actions as insignificant — even the smallest karma can grow into something vast. As the ancients said: "Don't think a small evil doesn't matter; don't think a small good isn't worth doing." It's like a tiny seed that, given enough years, grows into a towering tree.

Among the karma we create, some becomes directive karma — the force that determines which realm we'll be born into next, whether as a human, in hell, or in the Pure Land. Then there is completing karma, which shapes the particulars of that life: our appearance, our intelligence, the measure of our blessings and good fortune. For example, all of us here are human, so we share the same directive karma. Yet our gender, appearance, fortune, and wisdom all differ — and that's where completing karma comes in, determining our individual circumstances.

Because beings differ in temperament and timing, the karma we create falls into two categories: fixed and unfixed. Fixed karma will definitely produce a specific result — repentance may lighten it, but it won't make it disappear entirely. Unfixed karma is uncertain in both force and result; sincere repentance can turn heavy consequences into lighter ones, and light karma may bring no retribution at all. Some hold that the five most heinous crimes constitute heavy, fixed karma that even repentance cannot reduce, while all other karma is lighter and can be transformed through the merit of repentance. Others say that even the karma of those five crimes, heavy as it is, can be transformed through truly sincere repentance. But regardless of whether karma can be changed through repentance or the power of merit, it never simply vanishes. Some ripens in this life, some in lives to come. The only way to cut it off completely is to practice the true Dharma, attain awakening, and be liberated from the cycle of birth and death — only then can past karma no longer produce any results.

Until we attain such liberation, we will continue to follow our tainted karma — both good and bad — and cycle endlessly through the five realms: human, celestial, hell, animal, and hungry ghost. Rebirth in these realms follows three patterns. Some are drawn by their heaviest karma. Some follow their habitual tendencies. And some follow whatever arises in the mind at the moment of death: if the final thoughts are wholesome, one is born into a good realm; if unwholesome, into a bad one. This is why we practice assisted chanting for the deceased — to help them maintain right mindfulness in their final moments, to call to mind the good they've done and the merit they've accumulated, so they won't fall into a lower realm and may be reborn in a pure land.

A being's future life arises from karma as the seed, joined by various conditions — like fire passing from one piece of firewood to the next: the first stick may be consumed, but the flame has already leapt to a new one.

Ordinary beings, bound by ignorance and afflictions, cannot free themselves from the cycle of birth and death. They turn in it endlessly, life after life, without break. Only the wise sage, using wisdom to cut through ignorance and affliction, gains liberation and turns no more in the five realms. The foolish are bound by afflictions and find no freedom; the wise sever those bonds and go free. As practitioners of right faith, we should accept this truth without doubt — that the wise attain liberation while the foolish remain trapped.

Foolish beings, bound by ignorance and affliction, revolve endlessly through the six realms. Body and mind alike are pressed by immeasurable suffering, without a moment's relief or peace.

Should a being fall into the hells, they first enter the eight great hells — Reviving, Black Rope, Crushing, Wailing, Great Wailing, Burning, Extreme Burning, and Uninterrupted — and suffer every manner of torment. When those sufferings are finally exhausted, they pass into the neighboring hells that surround the great ones (the Hell of Smoldering Embers, the Hell of Filth, the Hell of Sharp Blades, and the Hell of the Endless River) and continue to suffer. After that, they fall into the eight cold hells to endure yet more karmic retribution. Finally, they may be born into the isolated hells to suffer as well. These hells differ in name and in the specific torments they inflict, but all represent the most extreme karmic retribution imaginable — suffering beyond what we can conceive or endure.

Should a being fall into the animal realm, they become one kind of creature or another, preyed upon by one another in a world where the strong devour the weak. They may be slaughtered for food by humans, or captured, broken, and put to work without a shred of freedom.

Should a being fall into the hungry ghost realm, they are perpetually tormented by hunger and thirst. Even if they find food, their throats are too narrow to swallow it — or they can consume only foul and filthy things — and so they too suffer endlessly. This is why, beyond our daily offerings to the Buddha, our monastery offers food to all beings. Several times a year we hold large Dharma assemblies, dedicating the merit of sutra recitation, repentance ceremonies, and Buddha's-name chanting to the welfare of all sentient beings. The Mengshan Food Offering and the Yoga Flaming Mouth ritual in particular are performed specifically to chant mantras and offer food to beings in the hungry ghost realm, drawing them out of their suffering and freeing them from the lower realms.

Sentient beings fall into the three lower realms because, rooted in greed, anger, and delusion — the three poisons — they commit all manner of unwholesome actions, and the fruit of those actions is rebirth in those realms of suffering.

Rebirth in the human realm is truly a precious opportunity, for human life contains both suffering and joy—which gives us the chance to practice the Dharma and find liberation from the suffering of cyclic existence. If we cultivate wholesome practices, we can ascend to the heavenly realms or break free of the six realms altogether, attaining supreme bodhi. But if we engage in unwholesome deeds and create evil karma, we will fall into the three lower realms and endure all manner of suffering. The human realm is therefore a pivotal juncture—a being's ascent or descent hinges on it, much as a switch determines whether an elevator rises or descends. According to the Buddha Dharma, where a being travels within the six realms of cyclic existence is determined by the karma created in human life, which decides whether one rises to fortunate realms or falls into miserable ones. Yet because most people don't understand the Dharma, they mistake this inherently human-centered view of rebirth for ghost-centered folk beliefs—imagining that after death, a person is first judged and punished in the ghost realm before being dispatched to their next destination.

By upholding the five precepts and practicing the ten wholesome deeds, one can ascend to the heavenly realms. The heavenly realms comprise three tiers: first the Desire Realm, then the Form Realm, and finally the Formless Realm. Those born into the heavens enjoy four advantages over beings in the other five realms. First, physical excellence—celestial beings are beautiful and handsome, free from the afflictions of ordinary illness. Second, excellence of lifespan, for celestial lives are exceedingly long. Third, excellence of happiness, since the joy of the heavens surpasses and cannot be compared with that of any other realm. Fourth, excellence of meditative concentration (samādhi), for the samādhi of celestial beings—particularly those in the Form and Formless Realms—surpasses that of all other realms.

From all this, we can see that the boundless suffering beings experience is the ripened fruit of unwholesome karma they have created, while the happiness they enjoy is the ripened fruit of past wholesome karma. Both suffering and happiness, then, arise from the karma we create. Once karma is exhausted, there is no more retribution of suffering or happiness. So we should refrain from creating evil karma and allow the fruits of suffering to fade away. At the same time, to live a happy life, we should actively cultivate wholesome practices. If we fail to practice and accumulate wholesome karma when we have the chance, what will we be able to do once our merit runs out and suffering arrives?

As noted in the previous chapter, the human realm is actually superior to the heavenly realms when it comes to practice. That's why one should aspire to rebirth in the human realm in order to practice the Buddha Dharma—because entering the Buddha Way is easiest with a human body. Even if we practice the teachings of the Human and Divine Vehicle, our aim isn't to be reborn in the heavens and enjoy celestial blessings. When we practice the three meritorious deeds that lead to rebirth as humans or gods—generosity (dāna), moral discipline (śīla), and meditative cultivation (samādhi)—the goal is not rebirth as a human or a deity. Our ultimate aim is to enter the Buddha Way, be born in the presence of a Buddha, and attain supreme perfect enlightenment.

What brings beings happiness? We feel happy when material conditions satisfy our needs. But what causes those material needs to be met? This is the wholesome fruit of generosity practiced in past lives. So in order to guide sentient beings, the Buddha first praised the merits and blessings that come from giving. Why? First, because everyone wants to live happily and to lack nothing essential. And second, because only when beings have the material resources to sustain themselves will they have the energy to practice the Dharma.

When we give, we should do so with a heart of letting go and a genuine desire to benefit others. We should give out of compassion to those who are poor and suffering, and offer with reverence to our parents, teachers, and the Three Jewels. The merit and blessings generated by giving will vary depending on one's state of mind, the recipient (that is, whether they are a "field of veneration" or a "field of compassion"), and the nature of the gift itself. So we should give in accordance with the Dharma and avoid the following types of giving:

1. Giving only when asked—giving not on one's own initiative but because someone else requested it, with a sense of reluctance.
2. Giving out of fear—the idea of sacrificing wealth to avert disaster: giving a small amount because one fears losing even more, or giving away something that's about to spoil just to look generous.
3. Giving to repay a debt—giving to someone out of gratitude because they once helped you.
4. Giving for return—hoping one's generosity will yield an even greater reward.
5. Giving out of habit—following ancestral customs passed down through generations, without any genuine intention of generosity, simply going through the motions because "that's how it's always been done."
6. Giving to please the gods—practicing generosity to win the favor and protection of celestial deities, or to gain rebirth in heaven.
7. Giving for fame—giving in order to earn a good reputation and honor.

After generosity comes the practice of moral discipline (śīla). To uphold moral discipline is to put an end to evil and promote good—to overcome selfish desires in order to benefit others. Since keeping moral discipline benefits all beings, we should steadfastly uphold pure precepts and avoid heterodox ones. But why should we keep them? We can use our own feelings to understand others: just as we don't want to be killed, we shouldn't kill other beings. Just as we wouldn't want someone to beat us with a stick, we shouldn't beat others. Just as we don't want our possessions stolen, we shouldn't steal from others. Just as we don't want someone intruding on our marriage, we shouldn't become the one who breaks up another's relationship. Just as we don't want to be deceived by lies, we shouldn't deceive others with lies. And when we see how alcohol leads people to do absurd and destructive things, we should abstain from drinking. As disciples of the Buddha, we should uphold the five precepts throughout our lives: not killing, not stealing, not engaging in sexual misconduct, not lying, and not consuming alcohol. For practicing these five precepts brings not only the highest worldly blessings of humans and gods, but also transcendent blessings—because upholding moral discipline gives rise to meditative concentration and wisdom, enabling us to transcend the world. If we further take up the Eight Precepts, we align ourselves even more closely with the Dharma and can break free from this suffering-filled world.

Not killing, not stealing, not engaging in sexual misconduct, not lying, not speaking divisively, not speaking harshly, not speaking frivolously, not coveting, not harboring ill will, and not being deluded (not holding wrong views)—these ten wholesome deeds are the foundation of all wholesome dharmas. The Buddha taught that they are not only the basis for cultivating the wholesome paths of humans and gods; the sacred teachings of the Three Vehicles also arise from a mind grounded in these ten practices.

Buddhist practitioners should not cling to worldly pleasures. Because their minds are scattered and distracted, worldly beings give rise to endless afflictions, drowning in suffering with no way out. So Buddhist disciples should abide in pure moral discipline with a compassionate heart that brings happiness to others. The samādhi born of abiding in pure discipline is the most authentic and brings true meditative joy. Through this correct samādhi, one can regulate body, breath, and mind. Concentration (samādhi) means the mind resting on a single object without distraction. It unfolds in stages: first, the mind settles on one object and gradually moves away from discursive thinking. Then, as one progresses through deeper levels of samādhi, one first abandons the experience of suffering, then moves beyond feelings of joy, and finally attains the highest samādhi of the Fourth Dhyāna—neither painful nor pleasant.

When the Buddha taught concentration, He primarily instructed beings to practice in stages: first the Four Dhyānas (First, Second, Third, and Fourth), then the Four Formless Absorptions (the Sphere of Infinite Space, the Sphere of Infinite Consciousness, the Sphere of Nothingness, and the Sphere of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception), and finally the Four Immeasurables of the Mahāyāna: loving-kindness (maitrī), compassion (karuṇā), sympathetic joy (muditā), and equanimity (upekṣā).

Most people in the world enjoy practicing generosity, but because their motivations vary, their giving is often tainted by afflictions. If one practices only samādhi, it's easy to become absorbed in one's own well-being, with no desire to enter the world and help others. Generosity practiced wrongly and meditation practiced in isolation can each obstruct the path to Buddhahood: giving with a troubled mind can lead to rebirth as an animal, while practicing only samādhi can lead one to fall among the Śrāvakas and Pratyekabuddhas. Animals rarely encounter the Dharma, and Śrāvakas and Pratyekabuddhas find it difficult to attain full Buddhahood. The human body offers the best conditions for practice and awakening, and the most fundamental way to obtain a human rebirth is to uphold the precepts with rigor and purity.

For beings who are timid or faint-hearted, the Buddha taught the practice of "recollection"—constantly calling to mind the merits of the Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, precepts, generosity, and the heavens. If one can keep these six things in mind, it is like walking into a brightly lit village where all darkness vanishes in an instant. Furthermore, if one can mindfully recollect Maitreya, the future Buddha, and aspire to be reborn in Maitreya's Inner Court, where He is currently teaching the Dharma—this aspiration toward Maitreya's Pure Land is extraordinarily rare. Why? First, Maitreya's Pure Land lies in Tuṣita Heaven, the closest of the celestial realms to our human world. Second, it is the easiest to reach: one need only take refuge in the Three Jewels, uphold the precepts purely, practice generosity in accordance with the Dharma, vow to be reborn there, and recite "Namo Maitreya, the Buddha yet to come." Third, it is the most universally accessible, because rebirth in Maitreya's Pure Land doesn't require a determination to leave the Three Realms entirely—Maitreya's Pure Land exists within the heavenly realm of the six realms, and the future Pure Land that will manifest when He attains Buddhahood will be this very Sahā World. When Maitreya Bodhisattva descends to the Sahā World to become a Buddha, He will use all manner of skillful means to guide beings toward awakening and supreme perfect enlightenment. As long as Buddhist practitioners can see the Buddha, they will hear the True Dharma—so what cause is there to worry about falling back or losing our way?

Chapter Four: The Dharmas Shared by the Three Vehicles

All conditioned phenomena (saṃskāra) are impermanent, and the feelings born of these impermanent phenomena are all suffering. Hence it is said: "All conditioned phenomena are impermanent; all feelings are suffering." Since this world is impermanent and filled with suffering, those with wisdom develop a heart of disenchantment with the world and turn toward the path of liberation. Accordingly, the Buddhas established the Three Vehicles in accordance with the varying capacities of beings. Within these Three Vehicles, the Buddha's primary audience consisted of Śrāvaka disciples who heard and followed the Dharma, while the Bodhisattva Vehicle and Pratyekabuddha Vehicle served as secondary avenues. The genuine path of liberation avoids the two extremes of indulgence and self-torment. To reach those drawn to a life of pleasure, the Buddha taught them, as lay practitioners, to cultivate pure practices that move away from suffering. To reach those drawn to asceticism, He taught them to become monastics (śramaṇas) and cultivate pure practices that move beyond desire and indulgence. Among practitioners, some prefer to live in solitude, far from human society; others prefer to live and practice in community. Some practice through faith; others practice through direct understanding of the Dharma. Though their paths differ, they share one goal: liberation from the Sahā World. When the Buddha taught the path of liberation, He began with the Four Noble Truths and the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination. All the profound Mahāyāna teachings that followed were built upon this foundation.

The Four Noble Truths are the Truth of Suffering (duḥkha), the Truth of Its Origin (samudaya), the Truth of Its Cessation (nirodha), and the Truth of the Path (mārga). Suffering takes eight forms: the suffering of not getting what one wants, the suffering of encountering what one dislikes, the suffering of separation from what one loves, the suffering of the five aggregates of clinging (the five skandhas ablaze), the suffering of birth, the suffering of aging, the suffering of illness, and the suffering of death. Of these eight, the suffering of the five aggregates of clinging is the root of the other seven. These five aggregates of clinging are form (rūpa), feeling (vedanā), perception (saṃjñā), mental formations (saṃskāra), and consciousness (vijñāna). They arise from beings' past craving and grasping, keeping us trapped in the endless cycle of birth and death. Among these five, consciousness is what clings, while the other four—form, feeling, perception, and mental formations—are what is clung to. It is this defiled clinging that prevents beings from escaping the bonds of birth and death.

Furthermore, beings engage the world through the six internal sense bases (the six faculties: eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind), which take as their objects the six external fields (form, sound, smell, taste, touch, and dharmas), giving rise to the six consciousnesses (eye-consciousness, ear-consciousness, nose-consciousness, tongue-consciousness, body-consciousness, and mind-consciousness). Together, these six faculties, six sense objects, and six consciousnesses make up the eighteen elements (dhātus). The text also references six elements, which (following Venerable Yin Shun's interpretation) are the six great elements: earth, water, fire, wind, space, and consciousness. All that beings experience in the suffering of cyclic existence through the six realms amounts to nothing more than these aggregates, sense bases, and elements—there is nothing else. What beings feel as most painful is precisely this physical body, which is itself the conditioned composite of aggregates, sense bases, and elements.

So where does this painful retribution come from? It is the accumulation of unwholesome karma created by beings in the past. And this unwholesome karma stems from ignorance and affliction (kleśa). Ignorance and affliction exert two kinds of influence on karma. The first is that of generating karma: because beings are clouded by ignorance and affliction, they create karma, and this karma is what keeps them submerged in the cycle of birth and death. The second is that of nourishing rebirth: even after beings have created various forms of defiled karma, it is the activation of afflictions that allows that karma to ripen into actual experiences of suffering. So while both afflictions and karma must be present, it is only when causes and conditions come together that the fruits of suffering actually manifest.

Karma can be classified in different ways. By the door through which it is performed, there is bodily karma, verbal karma, and mental karma. By its ethical quality, there is wholesome karma, unwholesome karma, and inert karma (also called neutral karma). How does this karmic force arise and pass away? Like seeds and habitual tendencies, it can endure for countless eons — and yet, when the right conditions ripen, it still manifests and bears fruit. This fruit is the cycle of birth and death across the six realms, drawn forth by karmic force. Because it is tainted, this fruit of samsaric existence cannot break free from the bondage of the three realms.

Where do these unwholesome actions come from? They arise from the three root afflictions: greed, hatred, and delusion. These three are the very foundation of all unwholesome karma. When beings are caught in delusion, they're like drunkards — muddled and confused — or like lost travelers who can't find their way home. Hatred easily flares into anger and resentment, driving people to act recklessly and do harm, with serious consequences. But the fault of greed runs even deeper. Why? Because once greed takes hold, the frustration of not getting what you want — or the fear of losing what you have — can ignite tremendous hatred, leading to the creation of deep unwholesome karma. And so one sinks back into the three realms, unable to find liberation.

The Buddha further distilled all afflictions into four: wrong view (errors in understanding), attachment (errors in action), arrogance (conceit and self-importance, centered on the ego), and ignorance (delusion — taking false phenomena as real). When these four are bound up with the sense of "I" and "mine," they become self-view, self-attachment, self-arrogance, and self-delusion. Together they weave an unbreakable net of karma, driving sentient beings through an endless succession of birth and death. From birth to death, from death to birth — life after life, death after death — without end.

Among the Four Noble Truths, the truth of suffering is the fruit of the truth of its origin, and the truth of its origin is the cause of suffering. Sentient beings create all manner of karma, which accumulates into the cause of samsaric suffering. After experiencing that suffering, they begin creating karma anew — and so suffering itself becomes the cause for further accumulation. It is only because there is suffering that more karma gathers. The two truths of suffering and its origin are thus mutually cause and effect, like interlocking rings that cannot be pulled apart. What becomes clear is that the birth and death of all beings are pulled along by the karma they themselves create, arising from conditions and conditions alone. That is why the Buddha taught the twelve links of dependent origination: ignorance, formations, consciousness, name and form, the six sense bases, contact, feeling, craving, grasping, becoming, birth, and aging-and-death. Beings caught in these twelve links are like people trapped inside a walled city with no gate in sight. The twelve links are also like a fruit tree: the tree bears fruit, the fruit produces a new tree, the new tree bears more fruit — cause and effect continuing without end. This is the meaning of the twelve links: cause and effect flowing on, never severed.

When ignorance covers over a being's wisdom, it gives rise to craving and clinging — that is, to karma. Through ignorance and craving (karmic action), a new life begins with consciousness, and from there the continuity of life unfolds. (Life requires consciousness; without consciousness, there is no living being.) With consciousness comes name and form — the forming of the fetus. As name and form develop, the six sense bases gradually take shape. When these sense bases meet the external world, feelings arise. From feeling, craving grows toward what is pleasant. As craving intensifies, it becomes grasping — and grasping produces karma. This accumulated karma sets in motion the conditions for the next existence, and from that momentum come birth, aging, and death, one after another. So if beings wish to taste the joy of nirvana's peace, they must first extinguish their afflictions. Once afflictions are gone, karma ceases; when karma ceases, the bitter fruit of birth and death ceases as well. Anyone who can break free from delusion and craving can directly realize that nirvanic peace. And the only path that truly cuts through both the cause and the fruit of suffering is the Buddha's path. If practitioners follow the higher training in precepts that the Buddha taught, concentration will arise. From that concentration, wisdom will grow. With this undefiled training, grounded in the Noble Eightfold Path, one will certainly enter nirvana.

Of the three higher trainings, the first is the training in precepts. When beings uphold the precepts, their minds are purified. They gain the higher mind — their attention no longer scatters — and they avoid wrongdoing. Buddhist disciples gain liberation corresponding to the precepts they keep. Lay followers uphold the five precepts and the eight precepts, as discussed in the previous chapter. Monastic precepts come in five categories: novice monk, novice nun, probationary nun, fully ordained monk, and fully ordained nun. Among these, one who receives the full ordination in accordance with the Vinaya (what is meant by "full": being at least twenty years of age, having three preceptors and seven witnesses, possessing robe and bowl, receiving one's teacher's permission, and having already taken the novice and full monastic precepts — or, for women, the novice, probationary, and full nun precepts; nowadays the bodhisattva precepts are also included, making the three-stage full ordination) — such full ordination is received with deep reverence. It is not given lightly, and so one must hold to it carefully, never allowing it to be broken or diminished. Within the monastic precepts, four are fundamental and must never be violated: sexual misconduct, stealing, killing (especially the killing of a human being), and making grave false claims about spiritual attainments. Break any one of these, and one forfeits the very character and standing of a monastic. As for all other precepts beyond these four — whether the offense is minor or serious — as long as one does not hide it after committing it and confesses properly according to the Dharma (that is, purging the offense), purity can be restored. Once purity is restored through confession, one should not continue to agonize over it. Simply remain pure.

When we Buddhist disciples hold to the precepts purely, we keep our body, speech, and mind clean and undefiled. On this foundation, all merits and virtues — both worldly and transcendent — can arise. As the saying goes: "Precepts are the source of the path, the mother of merit, nourishing all good roots." Through keeping the precepts, when our six sense faculties meet their corresponding objects in the world, we guard them. We aren't swept along by external conditions. We don't give rise to unwholesome thoughts, but instead foster right mindfulness and bring wrong thoughts to heel. Through keeping the precepts, we also understand that food and drink exist simply to sustain this life. Practitioners use this borrowed body to cultivate the pure Dharma body, so some nourishment is necessary — but we shouldn't become greedy for worldly food, lose all moderation, and forget what we're really here for. Furthermore, through keeping the precepts, we not only moderate our eating but also avoid attachment to sleep. We maintain proper awareness even in rest, staying alert so that harmful influences don't creep in. This is called "awake yoga" — the practice of remaining in yoga even while asleep. The word "yoga" means "to yoke" or "to correspond"; practicing awake yoga means keeping right mindfulness unbroken even in sleep, remaining aligned with that mindfulness at all times. And through keeping the precepts, we internalize the principle: avoid all evil, cultivate all good. With this as our compass, we stay clear-headed whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. We know what to do and what not to do, and we don't stray onto the wrong path.

As Buddhist disciples, we should cultivate the spirit of contentment. With a contented mind, we can stay clear of the taint of craving. The reason beings get caught in craving is precisely their discontent — as the old saying has it, "Human greed is like a snake trying to swallow an elephant." That's a perfect portrait of insatiability. Since those who practice the Dharma find joy in contentment, they don't chase after worldly fame and profit, and their minds are freed from the pull of these things. Even while living in the world, they keep their minds pure, unstained by worldly concerns. When beings can be content and at ease, distancing themselves from worldly defilement, they come into harmony with the three vehicles of liberation. If one can practice what was described above — carefully guarding the sense faculties, eating in moderation, practicing awake yoga, dwelling with right awareness, finding joy in contentment, and keeping clear of worldly pollution — that is the concrete expression of holding pure precepts. And this practice of precepts is also the necessary preliminary for cultivating meditative concentration, because when precepts are kept pure, body, speech, and mind remain clean and undefiled.

Once Buddhist disciples have established purity in keeping the precepts, they should go further and cultivate meditative concentration. Through the power of concentration, they can distance themselves from the five desires — form, sound, smell, taste, and touch — and from the five hindrances. (These five factors cover over the pure mind and obstruct meditation, hence the name "hindrances": the hindrance of sensual desire, the hindrance of ill will, the hindrance of sloth and torpor, the hindrance of restlessness and worry, and the hindrance of doubt.) Among the methods for developing concentration, there are two "gates of immortality": the contemplation of impurity and mindfulness of breathing. These two practices allow practitioners to gather the mind in a pure place, free themselves from the distraction of the five desires and five hindrances, and attain right concentration. Once right concentration is achieved, wisdom can arise. The Buddha taught seven bases for developing this wisdom — one cultivates true insight grounded in the seven fundamental meditative absorptions. These are the first jhana, the second jhana, the third jhana, the fourth jhana, the base of infinite space, the base of infinite consciousness, and the base of nothingness. The higher training in wisdom — the third of the three undefiled trainings — is none other than transcendent right view.

The Buddha once taught Ananda about dependent origination, emphasizing how profoundly deep it is. Worldly phenomena follow the pattern: "When this exists, that comes to be; with the arising of this, that arises." Following this law of cause and effect, we can see that all things are impermanent, empty, and without self. Everything in this world is a provisional existence — a temporary convergence of causes and conditions — not something ultimately real. The Buddha also said: "When this does not exist, that does not come to be; with the cessation of this, that ceases." This reveals that all dharmas are dependently arisen; they possess no independent substance, and their nature is empty. The empty, still nature of dependent origination is exceedingly profound — beyond what we ordinary beings can fully grasp. This is the middle way of dependent origination that the Buddha taught, guiding beings away from the two extremes of "exists" and "does not exist," toward the right view of the middle path, and through that right view, toward liberation. Right view, properly understood, is the wisdom that sees the Four Noble Truths just as they are. With this wisdom, one knows the Four Noble Truths: the origin of suffering should be abandoned, the path should be cultivated, suffering should be brought to an end, and cessation should be realized. By realizing cessation, one attains great nirvana.

In cultivating the right view of the middle way, there's a definite sequence. First comes the "knowledge of the stability of dharmas" — the wisdom that understands worldly dependent origination and sees that dependently arisen phenomena are provisionally existent. Then comes the "knowledge of nirvana" — the wisdom that, building on that provisional existence, penetrates to the ultimate emptiness and stillness of all things. Starting from the conventional, provisional reality of dependent origination, one merges into the ultimate truth of all dharmas' cessation. With right view, one sees that every dharma in the world is dependently arisen and empty in nature. Right thought arises from right view — it is the correct reflection that comes from observing all phenomena with right view. Through this reflection, one understands that the world is suffering and generates a sense of turning away. Through right thought, one recognizes the danger in worldly pleasures and generates a mind of renunciation. And through right thought, one comes to appreciate the peace of nirvana and strives to realize it.

Right speech, right action, and right livelihood within the Noble Eightfold Path have as their very substance the strict and pure observance of precepts. In the Eightfold Path, one must first possess right view and right thought — these are like a person's eyes, needed before taking a single step. Then one must possess pure conduct: right speech, right action, and right livelihood — these are like the two feet that carry one forward. With eyes and feet both in place, one can walk the path and reach the destination. When a practitioner has right view and right thought (the eyes) along with right speech, right action, and right livelihood (the feet), they can practice in accordance with the Dharma and reach the far shore of nirvana. Next comes right effort — the active force that keeps a practitioner striving without slackening. Then one must develop right mindfulness (that is, a genuine mind of renunciation). With right mindfulness, right concentration arises; from right concentration comes undefiled wisdom of liberation; and with that wisdom, one can sever the afflictions, put an end to birth and death, and attain the liberation of nirvana.

To guide beings toward liberation, the Buddha taught many methods of practice, amounting in all to the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment. Though the path of liberation is one, beings differ in their capacities, and so the Buddha adjusted his teachings accordingly — sometimes profound, sometimes simple. But whether the thirty-seven factors are presented in depth or in brief, they are what the noble ones practice and what the noble ones realize. Though the three vehicles of noble ones may differ in the depth of their realization, they all enter the same city of nirvana. On the path to liberation, every practitioner passes through three stages: planting, ripening, and harvest. First, planting: one must generate the mind of renunciation. This mind of renunciation is like a seed. Then, ripening: having planted the seed, one tends it carefully — constantly listening to the Dharma, reflecting on it, and practicing accordingly — so that the seed of renunciation matures and grows. Finally, harvest: like a fruit that has ripened, one attains the great fruit of liberation. The pace at which one practices and bears fruit may be slow or swift, but that difference in speed is not determined by whether one's faculties are sharp or dull.

By contemplating the absence of self in all dharmas and the impermanence of all conditioned things, one enters the empty, still nature of dependent origination. The first person to realize this true Dharma is called a stream-enterer (srotāpanna — one who has "entered the stream" of the noble ones). This first-stage noble one has already severed the fetters of self-view, attachment to rites and rituals, and doubt. They have already ended countless rounds of birth and death; only seven more rebirths between the human and heavenly realms remain. Once those seven lives are complete, birth and death are cut off forever, and they enter nirvana. (This first-stage noble one has severed the defilements of view but still harbors the defilements that remain to be cleared through practice.)

The sage of the second fruit is called a Sakadagamin (Once-Returner — born once in heaven and once in the human realm). This sage has already begun cutting through the defilements to be eliminated through practice, but has only severed the first six grades of the desire realm's habitual defilements. Three grades remain unsevered, which is why they are said to "advance to thin out the defilements to be cut off through practice." The sage of the third fruit is called an Anagamin (Non-Returner — one who no longer returns to this desire realm). This sage has already severed all habitual defilements of the desire realm and will never again be reborn here. At the end of this life, they ascend to the higher realms and enter nirvana there, never to return. But to truly eradicate all defilements and attain ultimate liberation belongs only to the fourth fruit — the Arhat — because an Arhat has severed all defilements along with all karma created in the past, and will never again produce new defiled (outflowing) karma. Having severed old karma and ceasing to create new, they will no longer fall into the bitter round of birth and death.

An Arhat's liberation may be liberation through wisdom, or complete liberation through both concentration and wisdom (as the sutras say: one free from greed attains liberation of mind; one free from ignorance attains liberation through wisdom). Arhats also possess the Six Supernatural Powers — psychic power, the divine eye, the divine ear, knowledge of others' minds, knowledge of past lives, and the destruction of defilements — as well as the Three Insights: insight into the divine eye, into past lives, and into the destruction of defilements. Endowed with such merit and virtue, an Arhat is truly the world's unsurpassed field of merit. Having eradicated all defilements, their wisdom is pure, like the sun in a clear sky, unstained by the dark clouds of affliction. Before an Arhat passes away, they still live in the world. Yet though they live in the world, they remain undefiled by it, much like a lotus "rising from the mud without a stain." There is also another kind of sage who awakens independently, without a teacher — attaining wisdom without relying on anyone's instruction. By withdrawing from the world and observing falling blossoms and scattering leaves, they awaken to the law of dependent origination. These are called Paccekabuddhas (also known as Solitary Realizers or Pratyekabuddhas). The Sravaka (Hearer) vehicle together with the Pratyekabuddha vehicle forms the Two Vehicles.

Chapter 5: The Distinctive Teachings of the Mahayana

The previous chapter discussed practitioners of the Two Vehicles. Though these practitioners have realized the fruit of Arhatship or Pratyekabuddhahood, some among them — upon hearing the Buddha expound the Dharma, witnessing his inconceivable spiritual powers, and seeing the complete eradication of his defilements and habitual tendencies (practitioners of the Two Vehicles sever defilements but cannot eradicate habitual tendencies) — feel a deep sense of shame. They realize that although they are called "those beyond learning," there is still much they do not know; that although they possess the Three Insights and Six Supernatural Powers, they lack the inconceivable powers of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas; and that although they have cut off defilements, impure habitual tendencies still remain. Out of this sense of shame, they turn from the Lesser Vehicle toward the Greater, setting their sights on the Mahayana path of Buddhahood.

As a Buddhist disciple, one should uphold and protect the Dharma so that it endures long in the world — one cannot bear to see the Holy Teachings decline. For once Buddhism fades, many are cut off from the nourishment of the Dharma and cycle endlessly through the six realms, enduring all manner of suffering. A compassionate Buddhist disciple cannot bear to see sentient beings suffer. How, then, can one keep the Holy Teachings from declining and help beings find freedom from pain? One must awaken great compassion and, grounded in that compassion, set out toward the Mahayana. Only the Mahayana can guide beings to seek the path of Buddhahood above while liberating beings below. The paths by which beings enter the Mahayana are many: some enter through faith and aspiration; some through wisdom; some through compassion; some through Sravaka practices; some through heavenly practices; some through human practices. Among those who enter the Mahayana, some enter directly, while others first practice a different vehicle before dedicating their merit toward the Mahayana. To transform beings of various capacities, the Buddha taught accordingly — sometimes expounding the Mahayana directly, sometimes skillfully offering provisional teachings, and later guiding practitioners to turn from the provisional toward the ultimate and enter the Mahayana.

According to the Mahayana teachings, all sentient beings possess Buddha-nature — the potential to become Buddhas. Buddha-nature is further divided into Buddha-nature in Principle and Buddha-nature in Practice. Buddha-nature in Principle refers to the ultimate truth that all dharmas are empty of self-nature; their fundamental nature is empty, still, and utterly equal, without duality. Therefore all sentient beings are also equal and non-dual, each possessing Buddha-nature. Buddha-nature in Practice means that through the teachings of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, beings practice the Six Paramitas, the Four Means of Embracing, and all other Mahayana Bodhisattva deeds, cultivating good seeds as provisions for future Buddhahood. Within Buddha-nature in Practice there are two stages: the stage of the Inherent Disposition and the stage of the Cultivated Disposition. The stage of the Inherent Disposition refers to the initial causes and conditions — seeing Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, hearing the Dharma — that inspire the awakening of the great Bodhi mind. This mind becomes the seed of future Buddhahood. Because it is nurtured through habitual influence, it is called the Inherent Disposition. The stage of the Cultivated Disposition means that, possessing this seed of the Inherent Disposition, one practices the Mahayana Bodhisattva path, continually nourishing the Bodhi seed so that it not only takes root but sprouts, blossoms, and bears fruit. This is called the Cultivated Disposition. Since all sentient beings possess Buddha-nature, given time and sustained practice, all can attain Buddhahood.

Any sentient being who gives rise to Bodhicitta — the mind of enlightenment — is called a Bodhisattva. Once called a Bodhisattva, they stand as foremost among all beings. Why? Because only a Bodhisattva can bring forth both worldly and transcendent merit. The methods a Bodhisattva practices must first accord with Bodhicitta; second, they must be guided by compassion; and third, they must employ the wisdom of emptiness as skillful means. Relying on these three essential methods — Bodhicitta, compassion, and the wisdom of emptiness as skillful means — together with diligent cultivation of all Mahayana virtues, a Bodhisattva's every practice guides sentient beings toward the One Buddha Vehicle and the realization of Unsurpassed Bodhi.

Having made vows and taken up these three methods, one then studies how to live as a Bodhisattva. The Ten Good Actions form the foundation. These can be gathered into the Three Cumulative Pure Precepts: the Precept of Gathering in All Rules of Discipline, the Precept of Gathering in All Good Dharmas, and the Precept of Benefiting All Sentient Beings. These Three Cumulative Pure Precepts — the Bodhisattva Precepts, also called the Bodhisattva Training Grounds — are the precepts that all seven assemblies may uphold. The seven assemblies are: Sramaneras, Sramanerikas, Siksamana, Bhiksus, Bhiksunis, Upasakas, and Upasikas. If a Bodhisattva who has generated Bodhicitta then loses it — harboring jealousy, stinginess, anger, and arrogance, and obstructing virtuous deeds that benefit beings — this constitutes a violation and abandonment of the Mahayana Bodhisattva precepts. The path that encompasses Bodhi consists of the Six Paramitas and the Four Means of Embracing. The Six Paramitas are: Generosity, Morality, Patience, Diligence, Concentration, and Wisdom. The Four Means of Embracing are: Generosity, Affectionate Speech, Beneficial Action, and Cooperation. Through practicing the Six Paramitas and the Four Means of Embracing, a Bodhisattva gradually enters the Ten Bhumis, until perfecting the merits of a Buddha and attaining Buddhahood.

A Mahayana Bodhisattva must be willing to give not only their own body and personal wealth, but also every good deed cultivated throughout the three times — past, present, and future — dedicating them all for the benefit of sentient beings, without the slightest hesitation. Beings of inferior capacity practice generosity to seek blessings for themselves; those of middling capacity practice generosity to attain liberation. But only a Bodhisattva gives everything solely for the sake of benefiting others — which is why a Bodhisattva is also called a Mahasattva, a Great Being.

There are three kinds of generosity: material giving, Dharma giving, and the giving of fearlessness. In practicing generosity, one should be able to "give what is difficult to give." One should give willingly and proactively, not only when asked — hence the phrase "diligent giving." Upon hearing about giving, one should feel joyful rather than burdened, and the delight that follows generosity should surpass even the joy of nirvana's tranquil cessation. There are, however, special circumstances where one should not give: first, when one's own capacity and conduct are insufficient; second, when the recipient holds heterodox views, is under the sway of evil forces, or lacks wisdom; and third, when the recipient intends to use the gift for impure purposes. The purpose of practicing generosity is to cultivate a mind of letting go. To give with such a mind of relinquishment is supremely excellent. This spirit of letting go should also be attuned to the inclinations of sentient beings, helping them grow. Furthermore, if during the act of giving one remains attached to the giver, the recipient, and the gift, this is a worldly, discriminating generosity. But if one is unattached to these three components — the "three wheels" — the giving becomes transcendent, leading beings toward great liberation, for it is a nondiscriminating generosity aligned with wisdom.

Beings observe the precepts in order to protect others; thus, keeping the precepts puts an end to harm. If one observes the precepts strictly and purely, one universally bestows fearlessness on all beings, so that none need feel afraid. The practice of the precepts serves as the foundation for three kinds of good. First, if one keeps the precepts with an augmenting mind, one attains augmenting fruits — rebirth in the human or heavenly realms, with the rewards of wealth, honor, and freedom. Second, if one keeps the precepts with a mind of renunciation, one attains the definite, supreme holy fruit, escaping the round of birth and death. Third, if one keeps the precepts with Bodhicitta, for the purpose of benefiting and delighting sentient beings, one enters the Mahayana Bodhisattva path, and the attainment of Buddhahood becomes only a matter of time. One who upholds pure precepts should guard their discipline as carefully as a traveler guards a float bag while crossing a river. Yet a Bodhisattva of pure morality should not look down on those who have violated or broken the precepts, nor should they cling to any discriminating thoughts about upholding versus breaking. This is what it means to truly keep the precepts.

To embrace, transform, and protect sentient beings, a Bodhisattva must practice the Paramita of Patience. Patience means not only enduring those who are hostile, but also peacefully accepting the various hardships of the world. More deeply, it means carefully observing the fundamental nature of all dharmas and awakening to the principle of their emptiness — what is known as the Patience in Dharmas, or the Patience of Non-Arising Dharmas. A Buddhist disciple must learn to endure and not casually give rise to anger toward others, because anger benefits no one — neither oneself nor anyone else. On the contrary, it only multiplies sorrow and distress for everyone involved. When you feel resentful and become angry, the other person resents you in return. What is more, once a Buddhist disciple's mind catches fire with anger, that fire can burn away every good root the practitioner has cultivated — hence the saying, "Fire burns down the forest of merits." If one can practice the Paramita of Patience, five virtues will arise: a dignified and majestic appearance, clear and articulate eloquence, the company of good friends, non-violation of the precepts, and rebirth in the human or heavenly realms, progressing toward the Buddha path.

Among the Six Paramitas, Generosity, Morality, and Patience are taught primarily for lay practitioners. Cultivating these three paramitas allows one to gather vast provisions of merit. These provisions of merit serve as the causes and conditions for the Buddha's physical body, the Rupakaya. The Paramita of Diligence applies equally to both provisions — merit and wisdom. If a practitioner can cultivate this diligence, their mind becomes like the ocean, receiving a hundred rivers. They vow to deliver boundless beings, sever endless defilements, study countless Dharma gates, and perfect the unsurpassed path of Buddhahood — without ever growing weary. Even if they must expend every ounce of strength, their diligence of mind will never cease.

There are also practitioners whose minds are lazy and lacking in diligence. They make all kinds of excuses to put off studying and practicing the Mahayana, clinging instead to the worldly pleasures of the five desires. Such a practitioner is belittling themselves — unable to believe they have the strength to walk the Mahayana path, they succumb to timidity and self-doubt. They assume they have no affinity with the perfect fruit of Buddhahood, that it is an impossible goal, a path too hard to travel. Caught in such thoughts of laziness and fear, they do not practice the Mahayana, and so they remain trapped in the round of birth and death, unable to find liberation. Though the provisions of merit and wisdom are vast and boundless, practitioners should not shrink back. Instead, they should train their minds and persevere tirelessly. There are also beings of inferior capacity and timid heart who fear the difficult path and long for an easier one. Out of compassion for them, the Buddha established supreme skillful means to embrace and protect those of newly awakened mind. The most outstanding feature of this Easy Path is that once a practitioner is reborn in the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, they receive the empowering blessing of Amitabha Buddha, and their Bodhicitta will never regress. Still another group of practitioners cannot bear to give up the joys of this life — the pleasures of family and society — yet their hearts still turn toward Bodhi. For them, Shakyamuni Buddha expounded the Twelve Great Compassionate Vows of Medicine Master Buddha, enabling beings to be reborn in the Eastern Pure Land of Lapis Lazuli.

If a practitioner can vow to be reborn in a Pure Land, they will come to possess four powers: the power of firm understanding, the power of stability, the power of joy, and the power of rest. With these four powers, practicing the Paramita of Diligence will not be difficult. The various supreme qualities of the Three Vehicles all arise from Concentration and Wisdom. When practicing śamatha and vipaśyanā — calm-abiding and insight — one should begin with śamatha. Only when śamatha is accomplished can vipaśyanā arise. First śamatha, then vipaśyanā — this is the sequential order of practice, and it cannot be reversed. When śamatha is achieved, one can abide in right concentration, and through that abiding, the mind gains a quality of capable steadiness. With this capability, one can accomplish whatever one sets out to do. Through this power of concentration, one can eliminate five faults: laziness, forgetting the holy instructions, laxity, excitement, non-application, and misapplied application. One can then diligently cultivate the eight antidotes: faith, aspiration, exertion, pliancy, mindfulness, awareness, application of mind, and equanimity. At this point, the concentrated mind is fully established.

For practitioners cultivating right concentration, the greatest hindrance is laziness, which can only be countered by cultivating four antidotes: faith, aspiration, exertion, and pliancy. When practicing śamatha, one should focus the mind on a single object without distraction. One way to do this is to settle the mind exclusively on a previously cultivated proper object of concentration, preventing it from scattering elsewhere. One should hold this object clearly in mind, without losing mindfulness, and abide in right concentration, each thought bright and distinct. What, then, is this proper object of focus? According to the Buddha, there are two types: first, objects that purify and counteract the hindrances of defilement; and second, objects that accord with the true principles the Buddha taught. Both can guide practitioners toward the path of liberation.

In the Mahayana teachings, those who cultivate samadhi mostly practice mindfulness of the Buddha and mindfulness of the breath. Mindfulness of the Buddha means using the mind to recollect the true Buddha—not a Buddha image. By contemplating the Buddha's various marks and excellent features, one keeps the mind from losing that recollection. There are many skillful methods for this, and Buddhist disciples should come to know them well. When practicing mindfulness of the breath, one first cultivates counting the breath, then following the breath, and finally arrives at its settling. The coarser signs of wind or panting shouldn't appear, nor should the sign of air. When cultivating samadhi, one must stay aware of drowsiness and agitation—these two great obstacles that scatter concentration. Once you notice them arising, counter them with clear knowing, so the mind abides in a single object without scattering. Don't assume these two scattered states are too subtle to notice or cut through; they'll quietly undermine your samatha. To dispel them, you need to bring forth right thought from right knowing and let it do its work. By no means let drowsiness and agitation turn the character of concentration into the character of scattering.

If a Buddhist disciple can cultivate until drowsiness and agitation are extinguished, the mind is then able to proceed in equanimity and uprightness. In the progression of samadhi, this is arriving at the stage of "equanimity" (舍). At this point, you simply let the mind remain equal and upright. Since the scattered states no longer arise, there's no need to keep generating effort to cut through drowsiness and agitation. If at this stage you still exert effort to eliminate scattered appearances, you'll only create faults.

When Buddhist disciples cultivate samadhi, from the initial gathering of the mind to the full accomplishment of correct samadhi, there are altogether nine stages in the process—known as the nine abidings of mind (九住心):

1. Internal Abiding (内住): The mind gathers and does not scatter outward; it abides on its inner object and doesn't rush outside.

2. Continuous Abiding (续住): The mind stays on the inner object, continuing without rushing or scattering.

3. Settled Abiding (安住): The mind abides in one place. Whenever there's any scattering, one notices it and isn't pulled by outer conditions.

4. Close Abiding (近住): One can foresee scattering and forgetfulness, become aware of them in advance, and restrain them. Thus one stays settled on the object and doesn't rush or scatter. (These four make up the process of settledly abiding on the object.)

5. Pacification (调顺): With the mind peacefully abiding in one place, one isn't enticed by the five desires, the three poisons, or the forms of men and women. The mind becomes soft and pliable within.

6. Quieting (寂静): When unwholesome dharmas arise in the mind—inaccurate obsessive thinking (寻思) and the obscurations of the five hindrances (五盖)—one uses the power of correct samadhi to subdue them, avoiding disturbance, and the mind abides in quietude.

7. Most Extreme Quieting (最极寂静): Once inaccurate thinking and the hindrances arise, one can immediately dispel and extinguish them. (These three make up the process of subduing afflictions.)

8. Single-Minded Concentration (专注一趣): Once afflictions are subdued and severed, the mind can stay on one object, equal and upright, without interruption, and continue without break.

9. Even Abiding (等持): The mind functions naturally and at ease, without scattering, continuously abiding on one object. (At this point, correct samadhi is in sight.)

So from the initial gathering of the mind to the accomplishment of correct samadhi, according to the sages, the skillful process of cultivating samatha (concentration) doesn't go beyond these nine abidings of mind. Cultivating according to these nine abidings, one can attain correct samadhi.

When you cultivate according to the progression of the nine abidings and bring all nine to fullness, you'll obtain physical and mental pliancy and ease (轻安). Once this pliancy and bliss arise in body and mind, it's called the "accomplishment of samatha" (止成就). How do you know samatha is accomplished? You can confirm it from three aspects:

1. Clarity (明显): The mind is extremely clear and pure; the object of the mind is vividly distinct, like the bright moon in a clear sky.
2. Non-Discrimination (无分别): The mind abides peacefully and naturally, clearly aware, without needing intentional effort to generate activity.
3. Sublime Pliancy and Bliss (妙轻安乐): Body and mind are subtly and wonderfully at ease; toward objects of desire, one naturally doesn't give rise to greed, attachment, or clinging.

This subtle samadhi that you've attained is shared by both internal and external practitioners—there's no difference between them. Their differences come from contemplative wisdom (观慧).

Prajnaparamita, the Perfection of Wisdom, is the most honored and supreme among the six paramitas. All liberation depends on it, and all Buddhas are born from prajna. As the Vimalakirti Sutra says, "Wisdom (prajna) is the mother of bodhisattvas, and skillful means is their father." Directly realized prajna arises from wisdom cultivated through meditation (修所成慧), which in turn comes from wisdom attained through hearing (闻所成慧) and wisdom attained through reflection (思所成慧). Drawing close to virtuous friends and knowledgeable ones, and being deeply imprinted by extensive study of the true Dharma, are what the cultivation of hearing-wisdom, reflection-wisdom, and meditation-wisdom depend on. The prajna of all Buddhas is equal and without duality, and prajna also realizes that all dharmas are equal, without duality or distinction. But for the sake of skillful means in teaching sentient beings, the Buddhas adapt their teachings to the capacities of those they address; because those capacities differ, there are differences in how they teach. The sutras and treatises of the prajna lineage are the most direct and intimate in propagating prajna.

The Buddhas teach sentient beings in accordance with the two truths (世俗谛, the conventional truth, and 第一义谛, the truth of ultimate meaning). Sentient beings, relying on the conventional truth, are able to awaken to the ultimate truth (the true meaning), and by relying on the ultimate truth, one attains great liberation. Based on the conventional truth, various names and expressions are set up, allowing everyone to use words to understand the conventional provisional dharmas—that is, conditioned dharmas of dependent origination. There are three kinds of provisionality:

1. Provisional by Name (名假): Names are merely designations; they don't represent an identity between the name and its meaning. They're just provisional labels set up for the convenience of everyone's understanding.
2. Provisional by Reception (受假, also called 取假): Worldly dharmas are actually a unified appearance assembled from various causes and conditions; they aren't truly existent as such.
3. Provisional by Dharma (法假): All worldly dharmas exist through the meeting of causes and conditions; they have no self-nature. Provisional names are assigned so sentient beings can understand them—they aren't truly existing dharmas.

Note that although we provisionally establish names in reliance on the conventional, that conventional itself is divided into "correct convention" (正世俗) and "inverted convention" (倒世俗). "Correct convention" is what ordinary worldly people regard as real; "inverted convention" is what ordinary worldly people regard as inverted and unreal. We need a clear understanding of both. How do the self-natures of all dharmas come to be? This observation of self-nature must reach conformity with the supreme truth (胜义谛) before it can illuminate the self-natures of all dharmas. For example, where does suffering come from? Suffering comes from delusion—namely, ignorance (无明)—and from the karmic formations created by ignorance. And what do ignorance and karma come from? From the deluded discriminatory thinking of sentient beings. And what does deluded discriminatory thinking come from? It comes from frivolous debate (戏论). Frivolous debate is the various erroneous and inverted words and language arising from mistaken cognition. These various forms of frivolous debate are to be extinguished by the wisdom of emptiness arising from prajna.

All dharmas in the world are produced by causes and conditions. Since they're produced by causes and conditions, they're empty of self-nature; therefore, self-nature is empty. Since all dharmas are without self-nature, their arising and ceasing are both conditioned. So all dharmas have no self-natured arising and ceasing, but abide eternally in the character of peaceful cessation (空相, the character of emptiness). Although all dharmas display the changing appearances of conditioned arising and ceasing, their essential nature of emptiness remains unchanging. All dharmas are not self-arisen—that is, they don't arise from themselves, since a thing cannot give birth to itself, just as a knife cannot cut itself. Nor can they be other-arisen. So-called other-arising is also a form of self-arising: if the self is regarded as the other, then by treating "self" as "other," the "other" would also be the "self." Since self-arising and other-arising are unattainable, self-and-other "co-arising" is also unattainable. Nor do they arise without a cause, since we don't see in the world a single dharma arising without cause. So among self-arising, other-arising, co-arising, and causeless arising, none of the four kinds of "arising" can be found. Through wisdom, one observes and realizes the emptiness of all dharmas; all dharmas are empty of self-nature; originally there's no self-natured arising or ceasing.

I am a provisional body composed of the five aggregates, but one can't say I am the five aggregates. Since the five aggregates are five dharmas, if I were the five aggregates, I'd be five dharmas and could be divided into five parts. If I were split into five parts, where could one find the "I"? Yet this "I" can't be separated from the five aggregates; apart from the five aggregates, where would the "I" be? Nor can one say the five aggregates belong to me, because if the five aggregates belonged to me, then the five aggregates and I would be two separate dharmas. Apart from the five aggregates, where would I be? And the five aggregates and I aren't mutually contained—the five aggregates aren't in me, nor am I in the five aggregates. If they were mutually contained, there'd be questions of which is larger or smaller, and hidden differences between two dharmas. Apart from the five aggregates, where is the "I"? Apart from the "I," where are the five aggregates? Through every kind of investigation, the so-called "true self" (实我) cannot be found; thus we know there is "no-self" (无我). Since we know there's no "I," the "mine" (我所) that depends on the "I"—on what would it depend? The self-nature of all dharmas is already empty; how much more so the "I" that depends on dharmas? (That is, the five aggregates are originally without self-nature; how much more so the "I" dharma that depends on dharmas without self-nature?)

Ignorance (delusion) and karma come from deluded and inverted discriminatory thinking, and deluded discriminatory thinking comes from the deluded mind-consciousness of sentient beings—and this mind-consciousness in turn depends on the body. So contemplation of the body must come first. Once you've realized no-self and no-mine, distanced yourself from all inner and outer clinging, and extinguished all deluded discriminatory thinking—if you can be like this, you've entered into the true reality of all dharmas. Once you know that the true reality of all dharmas is signless (无相), since there's no sign there's no discrimination; since there's no deluded discrimination, you won't fall into any erroneous grasping or calculation. Practicing the middle view (空观, contemplation of emptiness; 正观, correct contemplation), and using this correct contemplation to observe all dharmas, there's no discrimination of self-nature.

By the correct view that there is no self-natured discrimination, you observe all dharmas and abide in the correct wisdom of non-discrimination. When samatha and vipasyana correspond to each other—samatha and vipasyana united in dual cultivation—you're able to enter well into the peaceful cessation of non-arising. This is the true prajna, the true liberation. Only by relying on this unequalled wisdom of prajna can you perfect all merits. The essential nature of all dharmas is non-dual and without distinction, but because of differences in the capacities of sentient beings, there arise different teachings about dharmas. Among them, which are definitive teachings (that is, ultimate teachings) and which are non-definitive (non-ultimate)? A person endowed with the correct wisdom of prajna should skillfully discern between them.

All dharmas arise from causes and conditions. Since they arise from causes and conditions, all dharmas are empty of self-nature. Because all dharmas are empty of self-nature, all dharmas can arise from causes and conditions. So because all dharmas are empty of self-nature, all dharmas can arise and be established. At this point, you can understand the meaning of the middle way: essential emptiness doesn't obstruct dependent arising, and dependent arising doesn't obstruct essential emptiness—just as the gathas of prajnaparamita said above. All dharmas have no self-nature; if you can enter well into the dharma-nature (法性), you can realize the supreme bodhi. But there are also some people who, because the five conditions aren't fully present, can't enter well into the dharma-nature or realize supreme bodhi. The five conditions are: (1) one has already planted supreme wholesome roots; (2) one has already purified all obstacles; (3) one has already matured the continuum; (4) one has already cultivated great ascertainment extensively; (5) one has already been able to accumulate the provisions of supreme merit and wisdom. Because such people lack these five conditions, they can't enter well into the dharma-nature or realize supreme bodhi. Out of great compassion, the Buddha explains the profound and subtle meaning for such people. Sometimes he says all dharmas have no self-nature; sometimes he says all dharmas have self-characteristic existence. All of these are taught in accordance with real dharmas in order to teach sentient beings various provisional dharmas so they may realize the real dharmas.

Dependent origination with self-characteristic existence—that is, the nature of being dependent on others (依他起性)—has deluded discriminatory thinking as its nature. Relying on the original alaya-vijnana (storehouse consciousness), one establishes dependent origination (namely, alaya-vijnana dependent origination) giving rise to all dharmas; at this point, all causes and effects can be skillfully established. All dharmas outside the mind are non-existent; that is, the principle of mind-consciousness is not non-existent. If you can penetrate the truth that external objects are ultimately non-existent, then what the "mere-consciousness" (唯识) school establishes—external objects being mere appearances of consciousness—you'll be able to awaken to and enter the reality of mere consciousness.

There's also a portion of sentient beings who think that, if one relies on dharmas of moment-to-moment arising and ceasing, it's difficult to establish bondage and liberation, and therefore they think all dharmas are annihilated and there's no liberation. Hence they develop a fear of the teaching of "no-self." Because upon hearing "no-self," they immediately wonder: if there's no-self, then who's practicing? Who realizes liberation? Who's bound? Where has the "I" gone? Thus they have great fear. So for such sentient beings who are afraid of "no-self," the Buddha, out of skillful means to guide and transform them, expounds the thought of "tathagatagarbha" (如来藏, the Buddha-nature): taking tathagatagarbha as all wholesome dharmas and the cause of all wholesome dharmas. It's also in reliance on this tathagatagarbha that all wholesome dharmas and all unwholesome dharmas arise. The tathagatagarbha is intrinsically pure in its own nature, but it has been stained by the various deluded and impure habitual tendencies of afflictions since beginningless time; this is what is taken to be called the alaya-vijnana. From this alaya-vijnana, the cycle of birth and death arises; and also, in reliance on this alaya-vijnana, one can realize nirvana.

However, although the Buddha speaks of tathagatagarbha, lest sentient beings fail to understand his compassionate skillful means and develop erroneous views—grasping at tathagatagarbha as if it were a "divine self" (神我)—the Buddha further says: it's called tathagatagarbha because of the emptiness of all dharmas. So tathagatagarbha, tathata (suchness, 真如), and the emptiness-nature of dharmas (法空性) are without difference. You must understand the Buddha's earnest intention—he sets up these skillful means for sentient beings of different capacities. If you don't understand the Buddha's skillful means, you'll erroneously confuse the view with that of externalists (外道). The Buddha, by means of various skillful and expedient means, sets up various Dharma-gates, and these Dharma-gates become ever more supreme and wonderful. But in the end, they're nothing other than realizing the emptiness-nature of all dharmas, and experiencing that all dharmas are equal, without duality and without distinction. These various skillful and expedient means can only be well-penetrated, comprehensively contained, and unified by a great wise one—the Buddha—revealing the one Buddha-way, the one pure Dharma (namely, the Dharma of true suchness, 实相法).

Previously we discussed the six paramitas—through them one matures oneself toward the Buddha-way. Now that one has already accomplished the Buddha-way, one should mature sentient beings. So the Buddha taught the four means of conversion (四摄法) to gather and transform sentient beings. The four means of conversion are: giving (布施), loving speech (爱语), beneficial conduct (利行), and shared endeavor (同事). Having given rise to the Mahayana mind, one should cultivate accordingly. So those who've just first given rise to the bodhi-mind should mainly practice the ten wholesome actions (十善法). Cultivating according to these and advancing without retreat, one can accomplish the bodhi-mind and not fall back, and thus enter into the Mahayana Buddha-way. By means of these various acts of supreme understanding, one can extensively accumulate the two provisions of merit and wisdom. Passing through one kalpa, or even countless kalpas, in the end one will perfectly realize and enter the rank of sages (namely, the ten grounds, 十地).

Of the ten bodhisattva grounds, the first is called the Ground of Extreme Joy. The moment one enters this first ground, one has entered the Tathāgata’s household, and can shoulder the work of tending to it. This first-ground bodhisattva has cut through the three fetters: the view of a permanent self, attachment to precepts and ascetic practices as the only path to liberation, and doubt. Among all the meritorious practices this first-ground bodhisattva cultivates, the merit of generosity is foremost.

The second ground is called the Ground of Freedom from Stain, where the merit of upholding the precepts is foremost. The third ground is called the Ground of Radiance, where the merit of patience is foremost. Bodhisattvas on this ground diligently seek the Buddha’s teachings, attain the dhāraṇī of hearing and retention, are able to uphold all Buddhist doctrines, and diligently cultivate right samādhi. As a result, their wisdom grows ever more luminous; they wield it like a torch to drive back the darkness of affliction and delusion.

The fourth ground is called the Ground of Blazing Wisdom, where the merit of diligent effort is foremost, and the primary practice is the cultivation of the thirty-seven wings to awakening. Through diligent practice, this flame-like light of wisdom burns away all attachment to fixed views. The fifth ground is called the Ground of Difficult to Conquer, where the merit of the perfection of samādhi (meditative absorption) is foremost. Bodhisattvas on this ground have skillfully penetrated the principles of the Four Noble Truths and the Two Truths.

The sixth ground is called the Ground of Direct Manifestation, where the merit of prajñā (wisdom) is foremost. Bodhisattvas on this ground abide in the cessation of perception and feeling, and are able to directly realize the inherent emptiness and stillness of all phenomena. The Buddha’s teachings manifest clearly before them, allowing them to see with perfect clarity the dependent origination and true nature of all dharmas. These bodhisattvas rest constantly in the stillness of nirvāṇa, yet never cease to hold all beings in compassionate mind — this is the non-duality of emptiness and conventional existence: the emptiness of all phenomena does not negate their conventional appearance, and their conventional appearance in no way contradicts their emptiness. This is what sets them apart from the two vehicles of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas: for those on the two vehicles, abiding in deep meditative absorption makes it impossible to hold beings in compassionate mind, while holding beings in mind makes it impossible to enter and abide in such absorption.

The seventh ground is called the Ground of Far Going, where the merit of the perfection of skillful means is foremost. Though bodhisattvas on this ground abide in the cessation of perception and feeling, they can enter and exit meditative absorption freely, moment to moment. Because they can move in and out of samādhi at will, the perfection of skillful means shines foremost here, growing ever more intense like a blazing flame. Reaching this ground proves that the bodhisattva has completed the first two of the three great asaṃkhyeya eons of practice.

The eighth ground is called the Ground of Immovability, also known as the Diamond Ground. Bodhisattvas who reach this ground are no longer moved by afflictions, for afflictions no longer arise in them; nor are they moved by deliberate striving, for their wisdom and merit grow naturally and effortlessly, without reliance on forced exertion. Bodhisattvas on the eighth ground have completely cut through all afflictions of the three realms of existence, and are equal in attainment to an arhat at the final stage of the path; the difference is that even though they have fully eradicated all afflictions of the three realms, they will not enter nirvāṇa on this basis. As they still hold the most pure and sublime great vows, they are able to enter the illusory samādhi, manifesting bodies universally throughout the three realms (the three spheres of samsara), liberating all dharmas universally, and delivering all beings universally.

The ninth ground is called the Ground of Good Wisdom. Bodhisattvas on this ground possess the four unobstructed wisdoms: the wisdom of dharma (teachings), the wisdom of artha (meaning), the wisdom of nirukti (verbal expression), and the wisdom of pratibhāna (eloquent exposition). This wisdom arises not from deliberate striving, but spontaneously and effortlessly. On this ground, the perfection of all powers is fully realized and utterly pure.

The tenth ground is called the Ground of Dharma Cloud. Bodhisattvas on this ground have attained the rank of a future Buddha, a prince of the Dharma; thus they receive the light-consecration of all Buddhas. On this ground, the bodhisattva’s perfection of wisdom is supremely enhanced, and they pour down the great rain of the Dharma to nourish the good roots of all beings. Their wisdom is like a vast cloud, broadly sheltering all beings with good roots who have affinity with the Dharma.

At this point, the bodhisattva has completed the three great asaṃkhyeya eons of practice and traversed all ten grounds. In the process of cultivating and awakening to the Buddha’s wisdom and vision, some beings enter suddenly, while others enter gradually. This distinction between sudden and gradual entry stems chiefly from differences in spiritual faculty: those with sharp faculties enter suddenly, while those with dull faculties enter gradually. Once the merit of the three great asaṃkhyeya eons is fully perfected, one ascends from the bodhisattva grounds to the Ground of Perfect Enlightenment: Buddhahood itself.

The Buddha’s Dharma body is the utterly pure, intrinsic Dharma body, revealed once all ignorance and affliction have been fully extinguished. It has forever departed from all obstructions; no phenomenal marks arise within it, and it is the ultimate state of stillness. When viewed from the standpoint of the Buddha’s Dharma body, all Buddhas’ Dharma bodies are equal and indistinguishable; from that same standpoint, all worldly and world-transcending phenomena are equally non-dual, free of any distinction. The Buddha’s Dharma body is also like a wish-fulfilling jewel, with subtle, wondrous functions that benefit all kinds of beings.

The reward body (sambhogakāya), which arises as a pure emanation of the nature of reality, manifests all things moment to moment: the deeds of Buddhas, bodhisattvas, beings of the two vehicles (śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas), and ordinary beings; all occurrences across past, present, and future, and throughout the ten directions of space. All of these fall into two categories of karmic retribution: the primary retribution (the sentient world, encompassing all beings from Buddhas to ordinary people) and the secondary retribution (the phenomenal world, the environment we inhabit). Both are fully and unobstructedly manifested within the sambhogakāya. A single dharma contains all dharmas within it; and all dharmas are contained within a single dharma. Furthermore, the Buddha’s reward body is endowed with every kind of Buddha virtue: the ten powers, the four fearlessnesses, the eighteen unique qualities, great compassion, the three unimpeded aspects, as well as the Buddha’s sublime wisdom and all other pure, perfect virtues.

The Buddha abides in a fully pure, perfect Buddha land, endowed with eighteen perfections: perfection of visible hue, perfection of form, perfection of size, perfection of location, perfection of cause, perfection of result, perfection of the sovereign (the Buddha himself), perfection of attendant bodhisattvas, perfection of the surrounding retinue, perfection of sustaining resources, perfection of activity, perfection of benefit to beings, perfection of fearlessness, perfection of dwelling place, perfection of the path, perfection of the vehicle, perfection of the gateway, and perfection of supporting conditions. Within this pure land, together with the great assembly of bodhisattvas, they enjoy the subtle, sublime joy of the Mahāyāna Dharma.

All Buddhas have fully realized the true meaning of all dharmas, as well as the true wisdom that perceives it. They know that the true wisdom and true meaning of all worldly and world-transcending dharmas are without any variation or distinction. If there’s no difference at all, how could there be any distinction between the three vehicles or the five vehicles? There is no separate vehicle at all: there is only the One Vehicle.

The Buddha also has a body for teaching and guiding beings: the emanation body (nirmāṇakāya). This emanation body arises from the Buddha’s great compassion and great vows as its cause, and the guidance of sentient beings in the three realms of existence (samsara) as its condition. It manifests through skillful means for the purpose of teaching and guiding beings, appearing at times in pure lands and at times in impure lands. No matter where it appears, the goal’s always to guide beings toward nirvāṇa.

To relieve the assembly’s fatigue during teachings, the Buddha skillfully manifests a charming illusory city for them to rest in, so they can continue on the longer path without losing heart or giving up from exhaustion. But this is ultimately a skillful means to open and reveal to beings their true nature — a nature that is none other than the One Vehicle. All wholesome dharmas, both worldly and world-transcending, ultimately converge on the path to Buddhahood. Every sentient being, as long as they follow the Buddha’s teachings and awaken to the Buddha’s wisdom and vision, will ultimately and fully attain Buddhahood.