(Let's put our palms together and respectfully invite Jianhu Shifu to start the class.) We continue to practice whole-body awareness. Sit up straight, the whole body is firm yet relaxed, and our mind is focused on being aware of whatever sensations come from different parts of the body. Our mind should be sharp, fully awake, knowing, always in the present, and quiet. We tune in to the sensations of the body using the knowing mind, not the discriminating mind. The knowing mind simply knows; it does not judge or have preferences, or cling to any sensations or feelings. Therefore, it is always still and quiet, like someone who listens but never talks. That is the knowing mind. In this way we listen to the body. This is the meditation. Through meditation, we get in touch with the part of our mind that is always quiet. It is quiet because it doesn’t talk, grasp at experiences, or make judgments. It simply perceives: seeing, listening, feeling, and knowing whatever happens at the present moment. It is a state of stillness, it never goes anywhere, yet is present everywhere. This is the essence of the ordinary mind. Last week, we introduced the profound teaching on “the ordinary mind” by Master Mazu. The ordinary mind is the Way. This Way does not require deliberate cultivation, only the avoidance of defilement. Defilement refers to anything that contaminates the purity of our mind and our experience of life. What constitutes defilement? These include thoughts entangled in the cycle of birth and death, contrived efforts driven by the ego-self, and attachment—the act of seeking something or the desire to cling to what we have. These are defilements of the mind. If one aspires to directly realize the Way—the fundamental aim of the Zen school—the ordinary mind serves as the very path. But what is this ordinary mind? It is a state devoid of contrivance, biased judgments of right and wrong, the act of grasping or rejecting, the adherence to the extremes of permanence and annihilation, and the conceptual distinctions between the ordinary and the sacred. This also encompasses judgments that categorize beings as higher or lower, better or worse, ordinary or extraordinary. These are dualistic judgments generated by our conscious mind. The seeming simplicity of the term "ordinary mind" is characteristic of Zen, discovering surprising depth in the ordinary. It is a concept we will revisit repeatedly throughout our exploration of Zen. The Chinese term for "ordinary mind" is 平常心 (píng cháng xīn). 平常 (píng cháng) signifies everyday, usual, common, nothing extraordinary or special. However, the phrase is composed of two characters: 平 (píng), meaning even or level, and 常 (cháng), meaning always or frequent. Some Zen masters elucidate the ordinary mind as the mind that is ever-present and equanimous. Our mental states are in constant flux, influenced by the external environment. Yet, the true ordinary mind remains even, calm, and still. This should be the natural state for the awakened. Regrettably, our minds are often obscured by defilements, preventing us from maintaining the state of the ordinary mind. in the first two classes of this course we introduced the first topic: Zen In Daily Life. Today we move to our second topic: Direct Pointing to the Mind. This is another central theme in Zen—the direct realization of truth, which involves understanding our own mind, our ordinary mind. Let's examine the first story.

What is stolen?

This Incident has become a well-known Zen anecdote. Was there an actual thief present? No. It was a dramatic scenario orchestrated by the master. This exemplifies the unconventional tactics sometimes employed by Zen masters for teaching. Before Zen gained prominence in China, traditional Dharma instruction was formal. Masters would sit on elevated platforms, and students would listen with deference. Chinese Chan masters introduced a shift in this approach. Teachings could occur at any time, in any place, and in unexpected forms. Why would a master randomly grab a disciple of his, and call him a thief? When the monk denied the accusation, the master said him “不肯承當”. This phrase has the sense of “you just don’t want to admit it” or “you don’t want to take on the responsibility”. What was he actually accusing the monk of? Remember, this could’ve been any one of the monks that night. Certainly the theft of physical objects, it must have something to do with spiritual practice. (Shifu asks the class) What is this “thief” stealing? J: Is it referring to our six senses? We use our six senses to perceive the six objects, and we become entangled by what we see or hear, developing attachments instead of seeing things directly without discrimination.

Own the thief to own our life

That is a good starting point! Our six senses—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—constantly engage with the world around us. This influx of sensory input can easily become overwhelming. We hear someone speak and it instantly captures our attention and fills our thoughts. Their words may trigger reactions of feeling proud, belittled, or misunderstood, resulting in happiness or suffering. In this process, we often cling to what we like and push away what we dislike, causing us to lose our inner calm and peace. This habitual reaction, this defilement, is a common experience in our daily lives. This traps us in cycles of emotional highs and lows, driven by the environment and the action of others. Consequently, we lose control over our own minds. This is Master Zihu’s point: our life is being stolen—not by external agents, but by our quick judgments and immediate tendency to grasp or reject, we allow external factors to control us. We become slaves to our emotions, losing clarity, wisdom, and rational discernment. And this can happen anytime, even during meditation. So, who is the thief? The master stated, “You are the thief. You simply refuse to own up to it.” The thief is in our mind—our ingrained judgments, habitual patterns, and personal preferences that rob us of our serenity and clarity. When we become emotionally reactive, we cut off our access to sound judgment and wisdom. The master, through this drama, directly points out the true agent stealing our own lives. Owning our faults is the starting point to owning our lives.

Reflection

This is worthy of our reflection. In what ways have my own biased judgments or habitual reactions been stealing the quality of my life? Why do we get so stressed? Why do we worry so much? Why do I feel life is a burden? Who has been doing this to me? Are we willing to admit that the “thief” is not external (and therefore stop blaming others), but rather an aspect of our own mind—the part that constantly judges, discriminates, yet refuses to take the responsibility?

Lineage

By the way, Master Zihu was a disciple of the renowned master Nanquan Puyuan (南泉普願), who in turn was a disciple of Master Mazu (馬祖). Master Mazu was a towering figure in the Chinese Chan world, who originated the teaching of "the ordinary mind." He also introduced another famous Chan teaching, which we will explore in the next story. Let’s delve into another famous encounter between a seeker and a Zen master. This story features Dazhu Huihai, "Da" means big, and "Zhu" is pearl, while his Dharma name, Huihai, means "Ocean of Wisdom."

Nothing to offer

When Chan monk Huihai visited the esteemed Master Mazu, their meeting began with Mazu's seemingly straightforward question, "Where do you come from?" Huihai offered a conventional reply, stating his monastery. However, as is often the case in Zen dialogues, the master's inquiry was far from literal. “Where do you come from?” probed at a deeper origin, our fundamental nature. An uninitiated mind might answer based on birthplace or current residence, as Huihai did. Seeing that he missed the cue, Mazu inquired about Huihai's purpose. What do you seek here? What do you hope to learn? These are questions we should ask ourselves whenever we move, change jobs, or make changes in our lives. Huihai's reply was direct: "I have come to seek the Buddha Dharma, to learn Buddhism." Mazu then employed a characteristic style of Chan masters, which can often appear abrupt or paradoxical. He responded, "I have absolutely nothing here. Why do you forsake your own treasure and wander aimlessly, leaving your true home behind?" Of course this confused Huihai immensely. But you are the great, renowned master! Why do you say you have nothing for me? Mazu then pointed out the quintessential Zen realization, direct and profound: "The very one who is asking me this question right now—that is your treasure. Everything is inherently complete within you."

Do you feel rich?

Let's consider the depth of this exchange. When Mazu identified “the one asking" as the real treasure, he wasn't referring to the physical person or the monk name Huihai that came from this-and-that monastery. He was pointing to the very faculty of awareness, the capacity for questioning, for wonder, and for the aspiration to learn. This innate ability, this very mind that seeks, is itself the treasure. Within this, Mazu asserted, everything is complete, and nothing is fundamentally lacking. This challenges our common perception: I don't have a house. I don't have a fancy car. I don't have a good job. I don't have a happy marriage. I don't have money. I’m not beautiful. I don't have talent. I don't …. We often feel inadequate and incomplete. But Chan Master Mazu said, "We don't lack anything. Everything is complete within ourselves. Use it freely. Why seek outside?" You've been using your mind all your life. How come you don't feel complete? How come you don't feel your mind is a treasure? Your mind is the greatest treasure. Do you feel that way? Probably not. Of course you know your mind is important, and you wouldn't give up your mind for anything, but do you feel that it is a great treasure? If not, hopefully we’ll learn it in future stories.

Becoming a great pearl

Huihai certainly did. He experienced enlightenment. This shows the direct realization of our own inherent nature, the "treasure" within, is the key to awakening. Huihai did not spend much time with his master after his enlightenment. He soon departed to practice in solitude on a mountain in his home province Yuezhou. As time passed, his Zen wisdom began to attract many followers. And he collected some of his exchanges and teachings with these disciples, and put it into a book called "Treatise on the Essentials of Entering the Way Via Sudden Enlightenment" (頓悟入道要門論). This text eventually found its way back to his teacher, Master Mazu. Upon reading it, Mazu praised, "There is a great pearl in Yuezhou, whose perfect luminosity shines freely without obstruction.” It is from this recognition by Master Mazu that Huihai became widely known as Dazhu, the Great Pearl. This book is a significant contribution to Chan literature, filled with insightful and inspiring teachings. A treasure is something valuable, something you can draw upon and utilize in countless ways. If we possess great wealth, we can use it in many ways and make things happen. Now, if this very treasure resides within us already, wouldn't it be awesome to learn how to access and utilize that inner wealth in our lives? Shifu has talked about the remarkable potential of our minds. It is capable of acquiring complex knowledge, solving difficult problems, and immense compassion. Yet, at the same time, our minds can also be the source of our greatest suffering. It can generate stress, anxiety, fear, and overwhelming emotions, even leading to mental breakdown. Therefore, a crucial aspect of our practice is to understand the nature of our own minds. To do so, Shifu has taken the approach to distinguishing the different functions of the mind: the knowing aspect, which simply perceives the present, and the consciousness, the discursive, comparing, analyzing, and discriminating aspect of the mind. The key of our practice lies in connecting with and becoming familiar with the knowing part of our mind, which usually operates quietly in the background. It is the conscious, thinking mind that typically takes center stage, driving our speech, actions, and decisions, seemingly steering the course of our lives. However, most of us have neglected the importance of cultivating awareness of the knowing aspect of our mind – that quiet, still part that initially perceives, that listens without adding noise. This fundamental knowing is the key to unlocking the understanding of Zen teachings, including opening the door to our inherent great treasure. Now, Huihai was clearly an extraordinary monk, experiencing immediate awakening from a single, terse instruction. For most of us, the path may require more guidance, more pointers. Let's briefly examine a couple of other illustrative examples. This is from Master Shenxiu, the prominent disciple of the Fifth Patriarch HongRen (五祖弘忍), and a contemporary of the great Sixth Patriarch HuiNeng (六祖慧能). This is a teaching in the same vein as the previous story, isn’t it? Think about the vastness of the Buddha Dharma. There are thousands of scriptures covering a wide spectrum of teachings about life, from the straightforward like “no killing, no stealing” to the incredibly subtle and profound. Delving into the Dharma, I have time and again marveled at the depth of wisdom contained within. It is easy to wonder how anyone could conceive of something so extraordinary and insightful. It's easy to attribute this solely to the Buddha as a genius at a level beyond our comprehension. While the Buddha was undoubtedly extraordinary, Story 2 and Story 3 here point to something else: all of the profound Buddha Dharma are not external doctrines from god-like figures of the past, but rather are present within our own minds. In other words, the potential for this wisdom resides within each of us, waiting to be discovered. This means that (1) not only can we comprehend all of the Dharma, but (2) we can even come up with it ourselves. Seeking truth or enlightenment outside of our own mind is likened to a foolish act: abandoning a wealthy and supportive father to wander off and live the life of a beggar. In the same way, by turning away and seeking elsewhere, we subject ourselves to unnecessary hardship. For us ordinary beings, life feels difficult, filled with endless challenges we often don’t know how to cope with. But Chan masters assert that this feeling of lack is an illusion. The very wisdom we seek is already within us. Now how do we access this inner treasure? That is the very question that the next story will shed light on. The Fourth Patriarch, DaoXin (四祖道信) is famous for his long poem called Trust in Mind (信心銘). Shifu hopes to teach that work in the future. For now, let's learn from its opening verses: The Patriarch Daoxin opens with a strong statement, "Circumstances are neither good nor bad. Good and bad arise from the mind." Arising from which aspect of the mind? Clearly, it is the conscious, the judging part of our mind, the one that constantly evaluates and categorizes our experiences. He continues, "If the mind does not impose labels, from where do false thoughts arise?" Here, "false thoughts" signify thoughts that are deluded, that do not align with the true nature of reality. They are born from our misperceptions. We often operate under delusions and misguided opinions, don't we? The poem continues, "When false thoughts no longer arise, the true mind naturally knows all." To thoroughly know all is true wisdom. If we can move beyond our delusive thoughts—what Master Mazu referred to as defilements in the teaching of the ordinary mind—if we can refrain from these biased judgments and the imposition of rigid labels, we unlock a profound understanding of reality. While labels serve a practical purpose, we often become trapped by the very names, categories, and concepts we create which distort the reality of the events in our lives. This perspective offers a fundamentally different approach to navigating life. Instead of the conventional path of accumulating knowledge—learning this, studying that, reading many books —Chan masters propose an alternative: to turn our attention inward, to attune ourselves to a mind that is liberated from the constraints of labels, judgments, and preconceived notions of good and bad. And observe what unfolds when we do so. And what unfolds is profound: "When false thoughts no longer arise, the true mind naturally knows all." Do you find this teaching believable? It is a principle that has been consistently emphasized by Zen masters throughout history, so it must be true, right? However, as with all aspects of spiritual practice, we must verify and experience it for ourselves. Next week, we will continue our examination of this theme of direct pointing to the mind. Years ago, when Shifu presided over the Zen Center of Sunnyvale, we put a large rock outside the center bearing a carving of these four characters: 即心即佛. It says "this very mind is the Buddha." This is another significant Chan teaching popularized by Master Mazu, which we will explore in the next session. It is time for us to break into group discussion. We’ll look at Discussion questions 11 and 12 from the “Further Studies” section of “Zen in Daily Life” in the Class Reading.

Summaries

Is the knowing mind equal to the Buddha nature?

Shifu visited some of the breakout rooms, and there were questions I will address now. One question was: Is the knowing mind equal to the Buddha nature? We haven't talked much about Buddha nature in this course. Buddha nature is another term we use to refer to the true mind, the true nature of our mind. So, is the knowing mind equal to the Buddha nature? My short reply is that the knowing mind is a key to understanding our Buddha nature. I wouldn’t put an equal sign there, but it is a key. When you tune in and understand the knowing mind deeply, you will understand your Buddha nature much better. Q: Is the ordinary mind equal to the knowing mind? Again, the knowing mind is a key to understanding the ordinary mind or the enlightened mind. But I wouldn’t say that is all of it. This (the knowing mind) is the part that we have ignored all our lives and that is the crucial starting point of our awakening. (Shifu gave a talk in Taiwan, October 2024, on “Buddha Nature, Knowing, and Emptiness” which more completely addresses the relationship and nuances of these important concepts. Shifu is editing the transcript, and when it is done, we hope to translate it into English.)

Does the ordinary mind try to do good karma?

That is a good question. In next week’s stories (continuation with the Direct Pointing to the Mind topic), which you can read ahead in our Class Reading, there is a story about this issue. Meanwhile, here is a hint: Does the Buddha and bodhisattvas do good karma? Do Zen masters or other Buddhist masters do good karma? You will find the answer there.

Does the ordinary mind have feelings? Is it dispassionate?

One of the breakout groups already gave an answer: the ordinary mind is aware of feelings but not attached to the feelings. Think of the ordinary mind, or awakened mind, or true mind as having a higher view, seeing all that's going on, including feelings. You wouldn't ignore or shut down those feelings. Regular folks suffer because they cling to those feelings. The ordinary mind is aware of them but doesn't get stuck. Otherwise, one would not be able to feel empathy and understand all parties involved. Looking at our own life right now, our own world, from a higher point, then it is easier to not get trapped in personal, narrow, biased perspectives. Another example is to look back at your high school days or events from years ago – what used to be dramatic events do not affect you the same way now. Now this is important: what is happening and unfolding currently with yourself and others—can you have a higher perspective right now, immediately? It would be of great benefit if you could.

C.O. (Bay Area, CA):

So, the ordinary mind is not controlled by emotion.

Shifu:

Definitely not. It is the conscious mind that is controlled by emotions. That’s the trap we want to get out of. But that doesn’t mean we want to cut off our conscious mind, cut off from our feelings and emotions.

A Story about Master Mazu and Baizhang

There is a story that we’ll probably look at in the future. In that story, Master Mazu—him again, such a great master—twisted his disciple BaiZhang’s nose so much that it hurt a great deal. The disciple screamed and almost cried, but through that action, Baizhang suddenly had a realization. He was hurt but actually happy. Fellow disciples were confused about what was happening, so they asked Baizhang what was going on. Baizhang simply said, “Yesterday my nose was hurting. Today it is not.” (Baizhang went on to become a great master himself.)

C.O.:

how would an ordinary mind perceive, say, a group of children crying? How would it interpret and react to that, or maybe even not react?

Shifu:

A helpful way to approach this kind of question is to consider how a bodhisattva, an enlightened master, or the Buddha might view such a situation. Their actions would stem from the ordinary mind, as they have already realized it. So, what would their response be? Recall the foundational Buddhist teaching of the Four Noble Truths. These truths guide us in understanding suffering, its origins, the cessation of suffering, and the path to its end. The Buddha's aspiration was to alleviate suffering for all beings. However, merely feeling sympathy or sadness upon witnessing suffering is insufficient. The crucial step is to comprehend the root cause of all suffering, and take actions to end the root cause. Therefore, imagine how an enlightened master would act when confronted with suffering. While ordinary individuals can offer immediate aid, such as financial assistance, donations, food, shelter, and intervention in harmful situations, these actions, though compassionate, do not eradicate the fundamental source of suffering. We might temporarily alleviate immediate distress, but do we address the underlying causes? This is the point to consider.

C.C. (Gardening Group):

So, the ordinary mind has wisdom, but the knowing mind is just knowing. Is that statement correct?

Shifu:

When we speak of wisdom, there's the familiar kind: the wisdom gained through study, knowledge acquisition, and experience, which then allows us to make sound judgments and solve problems. This is a form of wisdom rooted in the conscious mind. Each of us has accumulated some level of knowledge and expertise, and this represents the workings of our conscious intellect. You are already acquainted with this type of wisdom to varying degrees. However, here, Shifu wants to draw attention to a different kind of wisdom—a wisdom that arises simply from knowing. This is the type of wisdom we want to notice and experience directly. In the Zen stories we explored in this course, the Chan masters suggest that by simply removing the defilements—those obscurations of our mind—the mind naturally becomes all-knowing. This certainly points to a distinct form of wisdom beyond intellectual reasoning. Shifu has used this illustration previously: How do we know the earth is round, not flat? We have all seen pictures of the earth, of course. But ancient people were able to deduce that Earth is round by applying geometric principles and measuring the curvature of land. This relies on the conscious mind, knowledge, and intellectual reasoning. However, there is another way to know the Earth is round: by observing it from a significant distance, from outer space. A single glance reveals its spherical form. No geometry or calculations are needed. This direct, clear seeing is a form of wisdom. This wisdom arising from direct knowing is potent and all-encompassing. In its ultimate form, the Buddha can know everything from where he is sitting. (Yes The Buddha knew that Earth is round. He said, “seeing our world like an āmalaka fruit” in a sutra.)

Why is it called the ordinary mind?

Another question in the chat was: If the ordinary mind is so awakened and brilliant, why is it called ordinary? It is called ordinary because that’s the way it should be, everyday, at all times. That should be the norm. For the enlightened master, that is the norm. It’s not something so special that only very few people can attain. It is ordinary because everybody can attain it.

Ordinary mind and birth and death

There’s a comment in the chat: The ordinary mind doesn’t think about birth and death, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t worry about birth and death. If by “worry” you mean “care about”, yes, that’s one way to look at it. Birth and death is an important topic. The enlightened mind understands the nature of birth and death, and when you do understand, the basis for worry dissolves. What becomes the primary concern instead is karma. However, that is not a subject we can delve into with minutes remaining in this class.

T.D. (Bay Area, CA)

Shifu, I feel overwhelmed.

Shifu:

Do some meditation. It will help. This is not something we can immediately digest, but it is important. Let’s look at some of the suggested exercises from the Class Reading. Practice maintaining an ordinary mind in the following situations: Let us conclude today’s class with dedication. Put our palms together and take a few quiet moments to make your own dedication of merits first.

Shifu’s Dedication on everyone’s behalf:

May the merits of our studying Zen masters and how to achieve enlightenment together be dedicated to all the participants, your friends, and family, so that bad karma will be eradicated. May we make progress in our spiritual enlightenment. We also dedicate our merits in the hope that the disasters in the world end quickly. We dedicate our merits to peace and harmony for all sentient beings.