永嘉證道歌 心要連讀Song of Realizing the Way · Continuous Heart-Essence

There is a man in the Song of Realizing the Way who says of himself that he is poor: “A poor son of Śākya says with his mouth that he is poor; in truth the body is poor, the Way is not poor.” This piece does not follow the song’s twenty-four sections. It only follows this poor monk and looks at what he carries on him, and what he does not.

On Him There Is Only a Ragged Robe

“Poor: the body always wears a tattered coarse robe”. Beyond the ragged robe the song names a few more things: a bowl, a staff, metal rings—“The bowl that subdued the dragon, the staff that parted the tigers; the golden rings on the staff’s two prongs ring clear and clear.” But the song says at once that these are “not held for show, as an empty affair”; they are not for making an appearance. Counting further down, where he lives is “deep mountains,” a “hermitage,” “a wild monk’s house,” and what keeps him company is “the river moon shines, the pine wind blows”. A man’s whole estate, and it is counted.

In His Heart He Hides a Jewel

“The Way: the heart hides a priceless treasure”. This jewel changes its name several times in the song. The first time it is “the maṇi jewel that people do not recognize”, kept inside the tathāgata-womb; the second time it is the wish-fulfilling jewel, “Once one can understand this wish-fulfilling jewel, benefiting oneself and benefiting others never runs dry.”; the third time it is the wish-fulfilling jewel again, “I now explain this wish-fulfilling jewel; all who receive it in faith accord with it.” Three appearances: the first, people do not recognize it; the second, he himself can understand it; the third, he explains it for others to hear. The whole song is the course of this jewel from unrecognized to spoken aloud.

The Jewel Is Not Something Cultivated

The poor monk never says how he came by the jewel. What the song says is the opposite: “neither removing deluded thoughts nor seeking the true”, “awakened, it is done; no effort applied”, “Cannot be taken, cannot be rejected; in the ungraspable it is just so obtained.” The jewel was in the tathāgata-womb all along; to practice is to recognize it, not to make it. That is why he is poor: so poor that he does not even set up “practice” as a separate thing. “Only get the root; do not worry over the branches”: once the root is got, the branches need no worrying.

When Others Revile Him, He Drinks Sweet Dew

A poor monk who says he has a priceless treasure will of course be reviled. The song has only one attitude toward this: “let them slander, let them find fault”, “when I hear it, it is just like drinking sweet dew”. Why can he be like this? Because the jewel is there, and it does not matter whether the robe is torn; because “not on account of ridicule and slander does he raise enmity or affection”: there is no self there to be reviled. This is not composure; it is the jewel’s use: “benefiting beings, answering to occasions, never stinting”. Even the one who reviles him becomes his good friend.

At the End He Says: I Will Settle It for You

The song’s last line is “If you have not understood, I now settle it for you”. The poor monk takes out the jewel for you to see—“Clearly, clearly seeing, there is not one thing; there is no person and no buddha.” The jewel brought out turns out to be not one thing. This is why he is poor, and why he is not poor. If, having read this piece, you are still looking for the jewel, go back to the first line: “neither removing deluded thoughts nor seeking the true.”

In the account of conduct the Sixth Patriarch asks Xuanjue one question: “Are you not returning too fast?” This piece looks only at the word “fast.”

He Is Fast the Moment He Arrives

Xuanjue comes to Caoxi, “shakes his staff, carries his jar, and circles the patriarch three times”, and does not bow. The patriarch asks why such great self-conceit; he answers: “The matter of birth and death is great; impermanence is swift.” The first “fast” is his own word: impermanence comes fast; there is no time for ceremony.

The Patriarch Asks Him: Where Is the Fastness

The patriarch does not scold him; he only asks, “Why not take hold of non-arising in your body, and understand that there is no swiftness?” Since all is impermanent, why not embody non-arising and understand that there is no fast or slow? Xuanjue answers: “Embodying is itself non-arising; understanding is originally without swiftness.” The embodying itself is non-arising; the understanding was never fast from the start. The patriarch says, “Just so, just so.” The second “fast” is cancelled here.

He Leaves Fast Too

Having bowed, “in a moment he takes his leave”. The patriarch asks, “Are you not returning too fast?” Xuanjue answers: “Originally there is no moving; how could there be fast?” There was never any moving, so where is the fastness? The third “fast” is cancelled too. The patriarch presses: “Who knows there is no moving?” The answer: “It is you, sir, who give rise to the distinction.” Who knows? It is you who are distinguishing. By here the exchange is no longer about fast and slow; it is about whether the one who knows fast and slow is there at all.

Stay One Night

The patriarch says: “Stay a single night.” And so there came to be “the one-night awakening.” A man who said he had no time to spare was kept for a night; what was kept was not the man but the place where this conversation landed. He left the next day—“the next day he went down the mountain and returned to Wenjiang”—fast, still fast; only this time no one asked whether it was too fast. When you read this account, there is no need to remember his life; remember how the three “fasts” were asked and how they were answered, and that is enough.