Digesting the Learned Dharma in Meditation is Unrelated to Zen Practice and Contemplation (23/6/25)

Shi Ruyuan: How did I initiate such observation of wisdom? Since attaining samadhi, I have also listened to your instruction, Master, on how to practice meditation in motion—observing the Dharma principles within motion and stillness. Whatever I do constitutes Chan practice; it is not limited to sitting meditation alone. Therefore, whatever dust-like phenomena I perceive, a doubtful inquiry arises in my mind. The doubtful inquiry of Mahayana Prajna continuously emerges.

You taught me, Master, to raise doubtful inquiries and engage in Chan investigation in all circumstances. Once, seeing a large tree swaying, I was suddenly struck with profound astonishment. I clearly recalled how you previously used the tree as a metaphor for sentient beings' aggregate body of the five skandhas. At the time, I did not understand what it meant, but now it suddenly dawned on me: is this comparing the tree roots to sentient beings' Tathagatagarbha? The eight consciousnesses within our sentient beings' physical form: the leaves, flowers, and fruits represent the first six consciousnesses; the branches represent the seventh consciousness, Manas (mind-root); the roots represent the Tathagatagarbha.

Commentary: The tree metaphor I previously mentioned is not as Shi Ruyuan understands it. She did not comprehend it before, and she still does not understand it now; she is utterly confused. Her interpretation of the tree metaphor involves dissecting the tree into eight consciousnesses. In reality, the eighth consciousness, Tathagatagarbha, is not the tree roots at all and cannot be juxtaposed with the seven consciousnesses on the same tree because they are not of the same category. The metaphor of roots giving rise to branches and leaves representing Tathagatagarbha producing the seven consciousnesses and the five skandhas is extremely forced; the two cannot be analogized.

Shi Ruyuan: Because of this doubtful inquiry, I focused my mind on it for a long time. Starting from the branches and leaves, I sequentially sought the powerful roots of this tree, utilizing their formless strength to support the lush foliage, flowers, and fruits. Isn't our sentient beings' aggregate body of the five skandhas all formed from the combination of the seven fundamental elements within the Tathagatagarbha? Whether it's flowers, plants, trees, or sentient beings' aggregate physical bodies, all phenomena—countless billions of dharmas—are equally operated by the power of Prajna wisdom. These doubtful inquiries involuntarily arise in my mind. Apart from the sound of the Buddha's name and the Prajna doubtful inquiry circulating in my thoughts, my mind is completely blank. My doubtful inquiry is: who is dragging this aggregate physical body of sentient beings around everywhere? It manifests its functional wonders pervasively.

Commentary: This entire passage consists of Shi Ruyuan's unfounded conjectures, lacking logical coherence and forcibly pieced together, exhibiting severe emotional thinking and intellectual interpretation. "Utilizing its formless strength" is an imagined function similar to Tathagatagarbha but unrelated to it. Her statement that the five skandhas body is formed by the combination of the seven fundamental elements of Tathagatagarbha is merely parroted knowledge—words spoken without any evidence, vast and unfounded. Genuine wisdom differs vastly from this, almost by the measure of an immeasurable kalpa. The text reveals that she currently does not understand what constitutes investigation (can) or observation (guan), and her thoughts are dominated by imagination.

Shi Ruyuan: After the doubtful inquiry about the large tree arose, I observed its equal operation in all dharmas. Now, I don't know what's happening in my mind, but I am constantly and clearly aware of the power of Prajna wisdom operating equally and pervasively throughout all places and all dharmas. It is omnipresent and all-pervading; its essence is equality. Now, this Dharma principle continuously revolves in my mind. Whatever the object of mental consciousness—all phenomena, billions of dharmas—everything is the power of Prajna wisdom, functioning with its equalizing power and strength. Without the power of its functional operation, everything would cease to exist. Any wisdom of samadhi I have been able to cultivate is entirely due to your dedication and teaching, Venerable Master.

Commentary: The doubtful inquiry about the large tree is fundamentally misguided; the doubt raised is somewhat senseless. Without having realized Tathagatagarbha, she leaps to observing its equal operation—this is too great a jump. In reality, she is digesting and understanding the learned Dharma principles within her samadhi, unrelated to Chan investigation or observation. Henceforth, any similar descriptions will have no connection to Chan investigation, observation, or realization and cannot be considered credible.

Those who remain constantly in samadhi possess poor verbal and written expression skills because language and writing are functions of consciousness. In deep samadhi, the function of Manas (the mind-root) predominates. Functions like recollection, reminiscence, imagination, thought, analysis, etc., which belong to consciousness, simply do not exist for Manas. Therefore, self-expression is very weak and can only be conveyed through body language, facial expressions, and physical gestures. Such modes of expression are difficult for ordinary people with insufficient wisdom to understand; one could say they are not very compatible.

When my samadhi is relatively stable during ordinary times, communicating with others is often challenging—words come to the tip of my tongue, but I don't know how to express them. Searching for vocabulary in my mind is laborious, and sometimes I simply give up and don't say the sentence when I cannot find the words. The words that are difficult to find are often simple things requiring recall, like people's names, object names, some noun concepts, etc. In contrast, any Dharma that does not rely on memory but on wisdom can be narrated and expressed with ease. When I wrote essays in school, argumentative pieces could be completed smoothly without much thought, while narrative essays about miscellaneous human affairs and objects gave me a headache; I disliked being verbose.

In the case of Shi Ruyuan, constantly abiding in samadhi without emerging makes doing anything very difficult. She can only do few things and abide within samadhi. I once tried to have her carefully polish and refine her writing, aiming at least for more accurate word usage, fewer typos, and mostly correct punctuation. However, after several attempts, I found it useless. The reason is that she has not cultivated any substantial merit (punya) and lacks interest in cultivating merit. Apart from samadhi, she has little interest in anything else. Consequently, her wisdom in worldly matters is low, and her understanding of the Buddhadharma is not thorough. Precisely because she lacks interest in everything else, she can single-mindedly enter samadhi, where some Dharma principles automatically arise. While Hinayana practice may seem easy for her, Mahayana wisdom is insufficient because Mahayana requires the causes and conditions of merit, the bodhisattva's resolve, and a spirit of selfless dedication and offering—qualities Shi Ruyuan currently lacks.

If I were like Ruyuan, constantly abiding in samadhi all day, I would be unable to accomplish anything, and propagating the Dharma would be utterly impossible. However, some profound Dharma principles require deep samadhi for observation before they can be expounded. Therefore, samadhi must be handled judiciously: it is indispensable, yet being too deep in it is also problematic. This means one must enter samadhi when contemplating Dharma principles and emerge from samadhi (or maintain shallow samadhi) when propagating the Dharma or handling affairs. Such a state is difficult to manage and handle skillfully. Manas has the function of selective memory—it automatically remembers what interests it and does not remember what does not interest it, manifesting on the level of consciousness as forgetfulness and poor memory.