Cultivation of Concentration and Chan Meditation for Realization of the Way (Part 1)

Chapter 8: How to Investigate Chan Through the Huatou

Section 1: The Method of Investigating the Huatou

1. What Is Investigating the Huatou?

The so-called huatou is the point before a sentence. No matter how long the sentence is, the mind must abide before the first character of that sentence; the first character and all the characters after it must not be allowed to emerge in the mind—if even one character emerges, it is no longer the point before the phrase.

There are many huatou, all of which can give rise to questioning doubt. For example: Who is investigating Chan? Who is reciting the Buddha's name? Who is dragging this corpse around? All dharmas return to one; where does the one return to? Does a dog have Buddha-nature or not?—No. The wind blows and the tree sways; the wind comes and the waves surge; (wind, tree, and waves are all metaphors, metaphors for the true self and the false self.) A bodhisattva, with every step raised and set down, comes from the place of practice. (What is the place of practice?) In all matters one should raise a question, ask "who"—only after this questioning doubt arises can one set the mind to investigate, and finally resolve the doubt, thereby seeing the mind and attaining realization.

For example: while eating, doubt who is eating; while walking, doubt who is walking; while writing, doubt who is writing; while speaking, doubt who is speaking; at all times, toward all matters, put a question mark—do not assume things are simply thus. If things were simply thus, why are they not simply otherwise? Why can a dead person not be simply thus? Why are plants and minerals not simply thus? Are things really simply thus? In the Śūraṅgama Sūtra the Buddha said, 一切法本非因缘，非自然性。The Buddha denied the naturalness of "simply thus," concluding that everything is the nature of the tathāgatagarbha. In this way, we can raise doubt toward all dharmas: they are not simply thus, but contain a mystery. What is the mystery? This must be resolved through investigating Chan, arriving at a reasonable conclusion through that investigation.

2. How to Investigate the Huatou?

First select a sentence that is not too long, that feels most intimate, most easily gives rise to questioning doubt, is most direct, and whose meaning is relatively clear. For example: Who is dragging this corpse around? After selecting it, clearly understand the surface meaning of this sentence, condense that meaning into a single point, and suspend it in the mind, so that the meaning of the sentence always appears in your head, continually lifted up without words or language appearing; it is not muttering the sentence in the mind, and even less is it pondering and analyzing the meaning of the phrase. In investigating the huatou, pondering and analyzing are most to be avoided; the best result of analysis and study is intellectual understanding, but no wisdom arises from it, and realization is absolutely impossible. Because meditative concentration is insufficient, the thinking is not fine, deep, or thorough, and one gains no real benefit. Intellectual understanding means roughly comprehending the general functions of the true mind, without having realized or found which one is the true mind, not understanding where specifically the true mind operates and what it does, how it produces all dharmas and produces the five aggregates; consequently there is no real liberating benefit in the mind.

Investigate the huatou: Who is dragging this corpse around? Hold this question in the mind as a thought without the form of language or words, suspend the meaning of this huatou in the heart; no sound reciting the sentence should arise within, nor should the words of the sentence appear, because that is a sign of lacking meditative concentration or of shallow concentration—with shallow concentration one cannot investigate the huatou. When there is question-and-answer in the mind, it is a shallow question-and-answer of the knowing mind-consciousness, and the concentration is shallow, with much analysis; intellectual understanding is possible, but realization is very difficult. If it is intellectual understanding, what is gained is only the wisdom of views and inference, which is very shallow, and subsequent cultivation becomes very difficult. True enlightenment is using the mind-eye to illuminate the tathāgatagarbha in its deep, subtle operations; the wisdom arising from this is prajñā wisdom, incomparable to the wisdom of intellectual understanding.

When meditative concentration is very deep, the mind-consciousness is very subtle, the thinking is fine and meticulous, wisdom can arise, and combined with the manas's deliberation (manasikāra/manana), one can find the eighth consciousness and the origins and workings of all dharmas of the five aggregates. When investigating a sentence, one should condense the meaning of the sentence into a mass or a point, then suspend that meaning in the mind while placing a question mark on it. "Who is dragging this corpse around" is the same as the four characters "Amitābha": when the concentration of reciting the Buddha's name is well cultivated, one naturally transitions into investigating the huatou—the level of skill is the same, only the words and content differ. First look at the huatou; once familiar with it, then investigate it.

3. What Is "Lifting It Up" (Tísī)?

Lifting it up means always keeping the meaning of this sentence in the mind, the mind abiding on the huatou, not thinking of other miscellaneous matters. If it is dropped, raise it again; if you have wandered into discursive thoughts, turn back. When the eyes see forms, the attention is not on the forms, yet the huatou remains clearly present in the mind; when the six faculties engage the six objects, the attention should not be on the six objects but on the huatou. In the early stage of investigation, it is hard to enter this state; the mind always wants to produce words and language. You can train yourself: first recite the first character, do not recite the rest, and then the meaning of the whole sentence is suspended in the mind. Once scattered, raise the first character again. After proficiency, drop even the first character, no longer reciting it—just let the meaning of the sentence always be present in the mind.

What is this mental state? Here is a metaphor: suppose a person's diamond ring is lost, and she is very anxious, rummaging through boxes and cabinets searching everywhere, having searched the whole room without finding it. By now she is very tired, so she simply sits down to rest; her brain (consciousness) is also tired and can no longer think about where the ring might be. Thus both body and mind rest; yet although resting, she has not forgotten the matter—her mind (the manas) is still suspended on it, only without thinking about where the ring is. This state (of the manas deliberating) is precisely the state of investigating the huatou.

If she is not very tired and her mind is still clear, then after sitting and resting a while, she may suddenly remember: Ah! The ring is over there—I was momentarily confused and forgot. Now she remembers and goes to look, and sure enough finds it in that place. Searching for true suchness is done in just this way: do not use consciousness to analyze, study, generalize, infer, or judge—none of that is needed. Just carry the huatou in the mind, have questioning doubt in the heart, deeply suspended, tethering the manas, employing the power of the manas; when the conditions of the season ripen, one can break through the investigation and realize the true suchness of the tathāgatagarbha.

Another metaphor: during the Cultural Revolution, Deng Xiaoping was under house arrest. In a rural courtyard, every evening after dinner he would walk in the courtyard, pondering the great matter of his return to office. He walked and walked in the courtyard for a long time, and his mind gradually settled, no longer able to think about problems. Yet the problem still hung in his mind, not disappearing; the manas was mobilized, deeply adhering to this problem without letting go—this state is the state of investigating Chan, and at a certain point his problem could be solved. Investigating Chan and the huatou is just like this. All of you should ponder this well; you might also practice walking meditation daily like this and try investigating a huatou.

The huatou appeared only after the Song dynasty. Before the Song, people's minds were relatively simple, without scattered thoughts, and entering the Way through investigating Chan was easy. After the Song, people's minds became chaotic, their faculties dull, and their delusive thoughts multiplied. In order to gather in this scattered mind, Chan masters had no choice but to use the method of the huatou, making it easier for Chan investigators to concentrate. When the power of mental focus is concentrated, meditative concentration improves; only with good concentration can one break through the investigation and resolve the great matter of Chan. Therefore, in our daily cultivation, we should minimize contact with people and affairs, put down or set aside worldly matters as much as possible; once a task is done and handled, do not dwell on it anymore, keeping the mind pure and clean at every moment. With this state of mind to contemplate Buddhist principles and investigate Chan, entering the Way will be swift.

4. The Difference Between Reciting the Huatou, Watching the Huatou, and Investigating the Huatou

Watching the huatou cultivates meditative concentration, keeping the mind abiding before the sentence, without words or language appearing. When concentration is insufficient, words and language emerge, with constant inner voice—that is reciting the huatou. So without concentration, the mind repeats a sentence over and over; with concentration, the inner voice and the appearance of words both vanish.

When watching the huatou with sufficient concentration, the manas participates, and one can truly begin investigating the huatou, probing the meaning of the sentence; words and language hardly appear, and there are not merely the sentiments and interpretations of consciousness—only then can there be true realization rather than intellectual understanding. Those with insufficient concentration, if they awaken at all, can only have intellectual understanding. The huatou is a sentence pointing to true suchness, containing a secret within the words that can give rise to questioning doubt; after doubting, one investigates and can unlock the secret, thereby breaking through delusion and awakening. The so-called huatou means the mind abiding before the sentence, with not a single character of the sentence appearing in the mind, yet the meaning of the whole sentence hangs in the heart, being held in mind; the manas takes the investigation as a problem it must solve, unwilling to let go, secretly working together with consciousness—and when conditions come to fruition, the secret can be cracked. Whether to investigate gong'an or huatou depends on each person's habits and preferences; both can break delusion and open enlightenment.

Investigating Chan is not guessing riddles. First one must have a deep foundation in Buddhist theory, know what investigating Chan is for, what its content and target are, how to investigate, and where to begin. Only after laying the theoretical foundation and completing meditative concentration can one investigate the huatou or gong'an. When investigating a gong'an, one must know what a gong'an is, what its content and target are, what it points to, and what it can bring us. One must also know where the crucial point of the gong'an lies, why the gong'an is as it is, and what it demonstrates. When our concentration, merit, and conditions are all complete, questioning doubt can arise toward the content being investigated; doubting back and forth, once conditions come to fruition, one can awaken to the true mind, the eighth consciousness—that is enlightenment.

Watching the huatou cultivates concentration; investigating the huatou probes its content. Only when concentration is complete can questioning doubt arise; with doubt one can investigate; after investigating, one can resolve the doubt and realize the target of the investigation—the tathāgatagarbha. This is enlightenment, and then all the secrets hidden in the huatou become known. As for whether investigating the huatou or the gong'an is more suitable, it varies by person. Generally, gong'an have richer content, point in a clearer direction, with concise and straightforward methods and lively lines of thought, making them easier to begin.

In investigating the huatou or gong'an, choose what interests you, where questioning doubt is strong, and where there seems to be a point of entry—that is faster. Before this, examine the degree of your cultivation of the bodhisattva's six perfections, whether the conditions of a bodhisattva are complete, then perfect the conditions of the six perfections as much as possible. When the six perfections are not yet well cultivated, do not rush to investigate Chan; cultivation ascends step by step, and each step must be grounded solidly. With a stable foundation, subsequent cultivation proceeds as smoothly as pushing a boat with the current, without obstruction.

5. How to Transition from Recollecting the Buddha to Watching the Huatou?

Recollecting the Buddha and watching the huatou share similar skills. Recollection of the Buddha (buddhānusmṛti) means a thought of the Buddha exists in the mind—a knowing thought; watching the huatou likewise means a thought of the huatou exists in the mind—a knowing thought. Their mental states are the same, so one can transition from recollecting the Buddha to watching the huatou.

The specific method: when the thought of the Buddha is very clear and concentration is good, so that one can constantly recollect and think of the Buddha with unbroken thought, change the four characters "Amitābha" held in the mind into a sentence, such as: Who is dragging this corpse around? This skill is similar to the mental state of recollecting and thinking of the Buddha, only with two more characters, a changed content, plus a question mark, increasing the inner questioning doubt. Transitioning from recollection of the Buddha to watching the huatou requires practice for a period. When the huatou becomes unclear or drops away, raise the first character, letting no further characters emerge; then the meaning of the whole sentence should hang in the mind. After proficiency, remove even the first character. Practice repeatedly until the skill of watching the huatou is as continuous and unbroken as the skill of recollecting the Buddha.

Then the mind abides before this sentence, its meaning hanging in the heart; walking, standing, sitting, lying down—whatever one does, the mind carries this sentence. At the same time, raise questioning doubt toward this sentence: doubt the "who"—who exactly is it? Carry this doubt lightly, continuous and unbroken; when it is very strong, one can set the mind to investigate this sentence, probing its mystery. The rest is waiting for the conditions of the season to find this "who." Then verify this "who" against the sūtras and śāstras to see whether it accords with the noble teachings in the sūtras; afterward, if some prajñā sūtras can be understood, and some shallow gong'an can be partially understood, then one can confirm that one has truly seen the mind. Generally, self-certification is not recommended, for one often misunderstands, unable to distinguish whether it is a realm interpreted by consciousness or the meditative absorption (samādhi) realm realized by the manas. Nowadays there is no lack of good spiritual friends to help verify; with a good spiritual friend's verification, one's level of wisdom can also be elevated.

In recollecting the Buddha and watching the huatou, how does one place the thought before the sentence? The state of recollecting the Buddha is thinking of the Buddha in the mind, this thought of the Buddha continuing unbroken in the heart. The meaning of a sentence is equivalent to the thought of the Buddha; suspend the meaning of this sentence as a point in the mind, without the appearance of word-forms or voice-sounds, because with such marks the mind is still coarse, concentration is not good enough, one cannot investigate the huatou, nor break through to see the mind. Not a single character of the sentence should appear in the mind; the thought abides before the sentence—this is called the huatou. Having the Buddha in mind and having the meaning of this sentence in mind are the same; thus one can replace the four characters "Amitābha" with "Who is dragging this corpse around," replacing the thought of the Buddha with the meaning of a sentence, firmly tethering the manas—this concentration is sufficient for investigating Chan.

6. Using the Method of Reciting the Buddha's Name to Transition into Investigating the Huatou

Our purpose in learning Buddhism is to see the mind and see the nature; to see the mind and nature, one must investigate Chan, the huatou, and gong'an. Investigating Chan requires the complete preparatory concentration (anāgamya-samādhi) of the desire realm; with this concentration, one can investigate a huatou while walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, thereby achieving the aim of breaking through the investigation. Since one is investigating the huatou, the mind must not be empty, must not enter into a meditative state. In a meditative state, the mind is empty, unable to contemplate dharma principles, unable to achieve the aim of breaking through, seeing the mind, and seeing the nature. Investigating Chan while walking, standing, sitting, and lying down is concentration in activity; entering a meditative state is concentration in stillness. One cannot investigate Chan within a meditative state; even in stillness there must be the thought of investigating Chan, must be investigating the huatou—otherwise it is of little use for investigating Chan.

If the preparatory concentration is incomplete, the mind will often be scattered, unfocused, unable to investigate the huatou. Chan investigators of the past, throughout the six periods of the day and night, always held a huatou without letting go; if the huatou dropped, they picked it up again, their inner work continuous and dense, neither scattered nor sunk. Sinking means drowsiness, or having no thoughts. Whether going up the mountain or down to the fields, building fires and cooking, they never departed from investigating Chan, never departed from the huatou.

We now should also practice concentration in motion; when unable to investigate the huatou, recite the Buddha's name. Use the four characters "Amitābha" in place of the huatou; once proficient and concentration complete, with wisdom also present, one can switch to investigating the huatou, such as: Who is dragging this corpse around? Who is reciting the Buddha's name? The huatou is the point before a sentence, before the first character; if one character or the whole sentence is recited out, that is the tail of the phrase.

The most crucial point in practicing with recitation of the Buddha's name is: none of the four characters "Amitābha" should emerge, yet the Buddha must still be in the mind, in the state of reciting the Buddha. This recollection is not oral recitation but the continuing state of reciting the Buddha in the mind. This state can be understood thus: when we hold a Buddha-recitation retreat (foqi), when the mouth grows tired from reciting, that is when there is concentration—switch to mental recitation; when mental recitation is concentrated, the mind can no longer produce the recitation—this is being in a recitation samādhi, a shallow recollection-of-the-Buddha samādhi. In this concentration, though the mind cannot produce the Buddha's name, there is no scattering and no drowsiness; the Buddha is still in the mind, not fallen into emptiness—it is a realm and state of reciting and thinking of the Buddha, utterly different from an empty state where the mind holds nothing at all.

Then we can take this recitation samādhi directly for practice. How? Divide the four characters "Amitābha" into two parts: "A-mi" and "tuo-fo." After reciting "A-mi," recite "tuo-fo"; once familiar, after reciting "A-mi," pause, not yet reciting "tuo-fo," and carefully observe the mental state at that moment—is it waiting for "tuo-fo" to emerge? Certainly it is. After reciting "tuo-fo," not reciting "A-mi," the mind waits for the two characters "A-mi" to emerge. At this point the mind is not empty; it is a continuing state of reciting the Buddha, in the state of thinking of the Buddha. Extend this state until it scatters, then raise "A-mi" again; with the Buddha in mind, when scattered raise it again; when not scattered, always remain in this state of thinking of the Buddha—this is a recitation concentration.

When the skill can be extended continuously and densely, change the four characters "Amitābha" into a huatou, such as "Who is dragging this corpse around," always hanging the meaning of this sentence in the mind, not letting a single character emerge. If scattered, one may raise the single character "drag"; then the meaning of the whole sentence should be present in the mind; when more proficient, one can investigate, and when the investigation penetrates, one sees the mind. This is the general framework of investigating Chan; the details must be practiced and experienced oneself. If cultivating concentration with no thoughts in the mind, entering concentration without huatou or contemplation, one cannot investigate, nor see the mind and attain enlightenment.

7. The Difference Between Investigating Chan and Cultivating Concentration

To attain enlightenment, seeing the mind and seeing the nature, one must use the methods of investigating Chan, the huatou, and gong'an to realize the tathāgatagarbha and know the true-suchness mind, the eighth consciousness. The so-called investigation is using the mind-consciousness and manas to probe the principle of true suchness, to seek the whereabouts of the eighth consciousness. Since it is investigation, the mind-consciousness must of course be awake, wise, and understanding of principles, not muddled or drowsy, and certainly must not disappear into concentration. Only a rational consciousness can investigate the eighth consciousness; without consciousness, or with consciousness drowsy, one cannot investigate or seek, and the result will be knowing nothing, failing to achieve the aim of seeing the mind and awakening to the Way.

It is like searching for a person: there must be a seeking mind, and one must know where to look and how to look. If one does not know where to look or the method, nor what the person looks like, and has no photograph of that person, one can never find them. Investigating Chan and seeking the eighth consciousness, true suchness, is the same: we must first know the nature of the eighth consciousness, which is like having a photograph of it. But having the photograph is not enough; you must also know how to look, where He generally appears. Without knowing these, it is like fishing a needle from the ocean—laboring in vain with nothing gained.

Thus enlightenment cannot be attained by the method of counting the breath, because there is no thought of investigation; nor by the method of watching thoughts, because there is no thought of seeking the eighth consciousness; nor by sitting in meditation and entering concentration, because the consciousness in concentration knows nothing and cannot correspond with the eighth consciousness. These are all methods of cultivating concentration, not methods of investigating Chan. When counting the breath, attention is on the numbers, not on investigating and seeking the eighth consciousness—the eighth consciousness certainly cannot be found; moreover, prolonged breath-counting easily leads to drowsiness or entering concentration, making it even less possible to find the eighth consciousness. Watching thoughts, with the mind-consciousness's attention on the thoughts rather than investigating and seeking true suchness, also cannot bring awakening. Sitting into concentration, without awareness or knowing, without the mind of investigation and seeking, no truth can be discovered, nor can the true suchness of the eighth consciousness be found.

None of the above concentration methods can be used to investigate Chan and attain realization; the direction is unclear and the method wrong—misdirected effort yields an imaginable result: nothing gained. If this continues, after a period of cultivation one easily loses faith and inevitably regresses from the Way. In cultivation, understanding principles is most important; having wisdom and correct views is most important; blind practice must be avoided. Buddhist practitioners should constantly examine whether their methods and path are correct and whether they can reach the goal. If not, they should adjust their direction at any time, carefully choosing a method suited to themselves. Cultivating concentration requires the method of concentration; enlightenment requires the method of investigating Chan—understanding what Chan is, how to investigate, when to begin, and so on. All these questions must be clarified, and one must also observe whether one's conditions for investigating Chan are complete; only after striving to perfect all the necessary conditions can one begin to investigate Chan.

8. The Moment of Enlightenment Is Not a Moment of No-Thought

One often hears people say: "When delusive thoughts suddenly cease, that cessation is bodhi." The meaning is that when delusive thoughts cease, the mind without delusive thoughts is bodhi; at that moment bodhi appears—this is seeing the mind, this is enlightenment. This implies bodhi is something arisen: only when delusive thoughts cease does bodhi arise; what arises will cease—when delusive thoughts perish, bodhi perishes with them. But bodhi is fundamentally unborn and unceasing; whether delusive thoughts exist or not, bodhi operates every second and every instant, unaffected by delusive thoughts. It is only that when thoughts are pure, wisdom can observe bodhi; after observing, one can observe bodhi's operation at any time, and the observing wisdom is never lost.

In fact, at the instant of enlightenment, thoughts are precisely turning—not ceasing. At that moment one exactly recognizes the tathāgatagarbha amid the activities of the five aggregates, suddenly directly perceiving the relationship of the tathāgatagarbha operating in fusion with the body of the five aggregates—and this is precisely when thoughts are running; thoughts cannot cease at all. Consider: when we find our long-parted kin in the vast sea of people, that is precisely the moment of recognizing kin, of turning thoughts to identify and observe—thoughts certainly cannot cease then; the mind cannot be without affairs; deep within there must be joy, with mental activities of observation and discrimination, emotions surging, unable to be as calm as if nothing were happening with no thoughts in the mind. One absolutely cannot rest the mind and stop thoughts—though afterward, the heart being satisfied, there are no further thoughts.

Enlightenment is the same: thoughts cannot stop at all; contemplation is very subtle; discrimination, confirmation, observation of the tathāgatagarbha—various mental activities all appear, and inner joy cannot be contained. If at enlightenment thoughts could stop and the mind had no mental activity, how would wisdom arise? How could the Sixth Patriarch, at enlightenment, comprehend the five statements of "how unforeseen is self-nature (svabhāva)"? How could he utter the five statements of "how unforeseen is self-nature"? If there were no thoughts, one could not observe the tathāgatagarbha and would know nothing of its operation—then what merit and benefit would enlightenment have? How would it differ from meditative concentration? In cultivating meditative concentration one can be without thoughts, can rest the mind, can stop thoughts—why then bother investigating Chan for enlightenment?

Those who have never been enlightened imagine in various ways, with sentiments and interpretations, that enlightenment is a state of no thoughts and no delusions, a state of knowing nothing and having no wisdom. If so, we might as well just cultivate concentration always—how simple, easy, pleasant, and comfortable! Why expend the brainpower and energy investigating Chan to the point of forgetting food and sleep, belt loosening and person growing haggard? In investigating Chan, if one extinguishes thoughts, cuts off thoughts, reaching no-thought, how can that be called investigating? Without thoughts, how to investigate? If at enlightenment "cold and warm are known only to oneself" and cannot be told to others, cannot be expressed, then why did the Sixth Patriarch utter the five statements of "how unforeseen is self-nature"? Why could the patriarchs of successive generations teach students to investigate Chan and awaken to the Way? Why could the Buddha expound so many dharmas of seeing the mind and seeing the nature, so many Mahāyāna tathāgatagarbha dharmas?

In true enlightenment, both at and after awakening, one can know the operation and nature of the tathāgatagarbha—not like that kind of "delusive thoughts dissolved, cannot be shown to others," wordless and speechless, mental activity ceased, like a fool, as if in concentration. If so, who would inherit the Tathāgata's family enterprise, expounding the Dharma to save sentient beings? How would wisdom be transmitted like lamp after lamp being lit? In meditative concentration one can have not a single thought arise; concentration has a no-thought state, but investigating Chan absolutely cannot be without thoughts, cannot have not a single thought arise, cannot be without discrimination, cannot be without consciousness, cannot be ignorant, cannot lack the manifestation of wisdom. Meditative concentration may not involve the tathāgatagarbha, but investigating Chan must relate to the tathāgatagarbha—otherwise it is merely cultivating meditative concentration. In concentration, if there is no knowing, no contemplation, wisdom absolutely cannot arise—that would be no different from the concentration of non-Buddhists.

9. Investigating Chan Means Using the Delusive Mind to Investigate the True Mind

Investigating Chan means we use the delusive mind of seeing, hearing, knowing, and perceiving to investigate the true mind, the tathāgatagarbha, which is without seeing, hearing, knowing, and perceiving. To see the mind and see the nature, one must use the method of investigating Chan and the huatou; investigating Chan and the huatou means using the mind-consciousness and the manas, using the consciousness that can know mental dharmas and possesses the mental factor of wisdom, to investigate the tathāgatagarbha. And investigating the tathāgatagarbha must be done with sufficient meditative concentration; it is best that after questioning doubt arises in the mind, doubt arise toward all activities of one's own five aggregates, with that doubt constantly suspended in the heart, or a huatou suspended, and then probe the doubt, and finally resolve it.

Without considerable meditative skill and deep questioning doubt, do not begin to investigate; the mind is coarse, the skill insufficient, and actual investigation impossible. Do not use consciousness for rough analysis, contemplation, and imagination—such sentiments and interpretations amount at most to intellectual understanding, not true realization, and no wisdom arises; perhaps not even intellectual understanding is achieved. If there is intellectual understanding rather than realization, prajñā wisdom will hardly arise, the road ahead will be difficult, and afflictions will not be easily subdued. Better to solidify the foundations in all respects before seeking awakening; if one awakens with solid foundations, wisdom will be deep and sharp, afflictions can be effectively subdued, and real meritorious benefit obtained.

10. How to Practice the Skill of Investigation?

Take as an example the question of whether the manas has neutral feeling (upekṣā-vedanā), to illustrate how to practice the skill of investigation. For instance, investigate whether the manas has neutral feeling in the following situations: when a person is extremely happy, dancing with joy and elated; when angry, hurling abuse and coming to blows. First we must know that these bodily and verbal actions are directed and commanded into being by the manas, involving the participation of the body-consciousness and mind-consciousness, as well as the eye-consciousness and ear-consciousness, and of course the manas; the manas and mind-consciousness cognize all these dharmas, while the eye-, ear-, and body-consciousnesses each cognize their respective objects; the several consciousnesses working together produce these bodily and verbal actions.

Since the manas directs and commands their creation, why does it direct and create two different kinds of bodily and verbal actions? Why, when happy, does the manas direct the creation of dancing and prancing? This action shows the five aggregates are happy and excited; the subject and master is the manas; to express its mental state, the manas lets the six consciousnesses emerge and act, venting its joyful emotions—hence dancing and elation. Why, when angry, hurl abuse? This action shows the five aggregates are indignant and furious; the subject and master of the five aggregates is the manas; to vent its anger, the manas directs the six consciousnesses to come to blows.

Is the manas not happy when one is happy, having only neutral feeling? Is it not angry when one is angry, also having only neutral feeling? Does the manas have no emotional reactions of joy or anger? If the manas had no emotion of joy, did not feel happy, why could it direct the six consciousnesses to dance and prance? If the manas had no reaction of displeasure, no feeling of suffering, why, when angry, could it direct the six consciousnesses to come to blows? Before the six consciousnesses act, the manas first cognizes the people and affairs of joy or anger; after cognizing them, emotions arise, and only then does it direct the six consciousnesses to emerge and create bodily, verbal, and mental actions. If the manas had neutral feeling, with no sensation at all, it would not direct the six consciousnesses to arise and act.

The above is analysis and understanding of the question; the thread of thought is somewhat long, but consciousness must carefully contemplate and analyze, clearly and thoroughly discerning the meanings within these words. At this point there are words, language, sounds, and images; the forms of words and language must repeatedly appear in the mind. After consciousness has understood the meaning of these words on the surface, it must condense this content into a point, forming a formless, markless, condensed meaning, then hand it over to the manas; the manas then deeply suspends this formless, markless meaning in the mind, not dropping or ignoring it—this is the manas's mode of deliberation (manasikāra/manana).

The manas's deliberation is precisely investigation. In investigation there are no words, language, or sounds—quietly, deeply, continuously, morning and evening alike, never shifting, never abandoned even in dreams or waking—this is the manas's state of investigation, with the manas as the primary and consciousness as the auxiliary. Earlier, when contemplating and understanding the verbal content, consciousness was primary with the manas assisting; now it is exactly reversed. This is the true method of investigating Chan, the true skill of investigation; when conditions arrive, one will certainly break through, find the answer, realize and resolve the doubt in the mind, the questioning doubt greatly opening, and great prajñā wisdom arising.

When the manas investigates its own functions and nature, there is also no concept of "the manas" or "self," no correspondence with concepts and words, no language or verbose talk—direct and plain, simple and clean, going straight to the center and the key point. He can do so without affecting eating, drinking, and bodily functions, without affecting walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, without affecting the normal life activities of the five aggregates—only without scattered thoughts, without extra mental preoccupations, relatively focused, not mixing mental engagements.

This is the manas investigating its own mental activities; investigating the tathāgatagarbha is the same, and investigating any dharma principle is the same. However deep the dharma principle, one must do the practice this way, apply effort this way. Consciousness and the manas cooperate closely, with the tathāgatagarbha as the hidden assistant, the unnamed benefactor, supplying everything needed and all sustenance for the investigation.

11. What Is Investigating Apart from Mind, Consciousness, and Mental Activity?

In the past a student asked a Chan master: "When investigating Chan, how should one apply the mind?" The master replied: "Investigate apart from mind, consciousness, and mental activity." Practically all Buddhist practitioners of the past had meditative concentration; those with concentration could investigate Chan, could apply effort, and the conditions for awakening the Way ripened easily. So although the Chan masters did not understand the nature of the manas, they could use the manas to investigate the huatou, teaching their disciples the knack of investigating Chan: one must not speculate beneath the thoughts, must not indulge in sentiments and interpretations; one must leave consciousness aside, using it sparingly for pondering and inference. In this way, the skill of investigating Chan becomes deep and stable, solid; when the master ascended the hall to give instruction, those below could awaken to the Way at any moment. To others it seemed easy, but they had put in tremendous effort: throughout the six periods of the day and night, without mixed mental engagement, all was investigating Chan—including laboring in the fields, building fires and cooking, even applying effort while sleeping. If consciousness applies the effort, the effort breaks off after falling asleep; when the manas applies the effort, it continues even in sleep.

Later, some people stopped practicing earnestly, gathering in threes and twos to study gong'an. When Chan masters saw this, they would scatter them with a blow of the staff, forbidding study and discussion, and not permitting reading books either; when the skill was on track, even the Buddhist sūtras could not be read—one applied oneself wholeheartedly to investigating Chan.

Still later, after the Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch spread, those engaged in actual practice gradually dwindled; everyone, clutching the Platform Sutra, began gushing eloquence and debating torrentially, each believing himself to possess the Way—and so the Chan school declined and withered. People today are even more gushing and torrentially eloquent than those of that time, only more so; everyone can talk, parroting like a myna, yet no one has real skill. They shout about real practice and real realization, yet their feet tread on clouds—without a ladder to heaven, they still claim they can ascend.