Simultaneous Pecking

Every practitioner, before attaining the Way, is like an egg that has not yet been broken. When this egg should be broken, and how it should be broken, is truly a great subject of study, a matter of great consequence. If the timing of breaking it is chosen wrongly, what results after breaking is a mangled, spoiled egg—unfit even to eat, let alone capable of producing a chick. An egg broken entirely by external force is usually a mangled one, good for nothing at all.

Therefore, cultivation depends mainly on oneself; external force need only provide a bit of warmth. The transformation within must be done by oneself—one must change oneself. If you do not wish to become a mangled egg, a useless failure, do not rely too much on others' support. Some people, having studied for only a short time—while the egg is still raw and hard—demand that their master quickly guide them to enlightenment. What could such a person awaken to? Whatever they awaken to is useless—just a failure. An egg that has barely been warmed and is already impatient to break its shell will, at best, end up scrambled for a meal—it will never amount to anything.

When the life within the eggshell is gradually maturing, there are various signs, and in the end the chick will certainly peck at the shell by itself. Only when it truly cannot peck through, at the very point where its beak is about to crack and tear the shell, does external force lightly break it open—and thus life successfully emerges, strong and vigorous, with tenacious vitality.

The birth of a chick is, for the most part, the result of its own effort, with only a small part owing to the external warmth of the environment and the mother hen's care.

Cultivation is the same: for the most part it depends on one's own diligent effort, with only a small part owing to the master's teaching and help.

In the past, when the patriarchs guided their disciples, they would peck from within and tap from without simultaneously, with the timing perfectly mastered. Why? Because the patriarchs were true patriarchs and true Chan masters, genuinely possessed of the Way—not only with the power of the Way but also with the eye of the Way, perceiving the finest detail, skilled in observing beings' capacities and teaching accordingly. Students in those times were fortunate, extremely fortunate. If the thirty-seven factors of the Way had not been cultivated, if the six perfections were not complete, a Chan master would absolutely not intervene—the disciple's dharmakāya and wisdom-life were of utmost importance. They never showed off, and their sense of responsibility was extremely strong.

If someone guides others recklessly, with the suspicion of merely making up the numbers, you should know for yourself that such a person does not possess the Way, and it is safest to stay away. Protect your egg well; do not let it be broken casually. Whoever tries to break it on their own initiative, refuse them without exception.