大智度論 四念處品之一Dazhidulun — Mahāprajñāpāramitā-upadeśa · The Four Foundations of Mindfulness, Part 1 of 2

In this chapter the Buddha begins from the first group of the thirty-seven limbs of the path, the four foundations of mindfulness, spreads open the whole lineage of the limbs of the path, and labels each of them ‘the bodhisattva-mahāsattva's Mahāyāna’. First the foundation of mindfulness of the body: in walking, standing, sitting, and lying one knows oneself clearly; in breathing in and out one is like a turner who knows the length of his cord; one contemplates the four great elements of the body as a butcher divides an ox into four parts; one contemplates the impurity of the thirty-six things as a clear-eyed farmer opening the granary and distinguishing the grains; and so on to seeing the nine perceptions of the corpse and the white bones like shells; contemplating the body all the way, and yet 「亦無身覺，以不可得故」 tr. "also without any notion of a body, because it is unfindable". You may ask: since it is called ‘foundation of mindfulness’, why not simply say ‘foundation of wisdom’? The treatise-author answers crisply: 「初習行時，未及有智；念為初門」 tr. "at the beginning of practice one has not yet reached wisdom; mindfulness is the first gate", while in truth 「四念處實體是智慧」 tr. "the real substance of the four foundations of mindfulness is wisdom"; mindfulness is only the gate of first entry, and wisdom is its substance. In the four foundations of mindfulness wisdom prevails, in the four right efforts vigour prevails, in the four bases of supernormal power concentration prevails; all are the one substance of the limbs of the path, differing in name according to which dharma is dominant. Then the treatise-author points out the most important dividing line of this chapter: śrāvakas contemplate the four foundations of mindfulness, attain heat, summit, acceptance, up to the four fruits, take them to realise cessation, and are done; the bodhisattva, however, 「不忘本願，不捨大悲」 tr. "does not forget his original vow and does not abandon great compassion", and though he cultivates these thirty-seven limbs he does not take nirvāṇa, 「本願牢故，大悲心深入故」 tr. "because his original vow is firm, because his mind of great compassion has entered deeply". He borrows the dream simile of the seventh abiding ground: the bodhisattva is like a man who in a dream binds a raft to cross a river and wakes midstream; just as he thinks ‘I have wearied myself for nothing; there is no river and no raft’ and is about to extinguish his inverted mind, 「十方佛伸手摩頭」 tr. "the Buddhas of the ten directions stretch out their hands and stroke his head", urging him to recollect his original vow and to deliver beings with this dharma of emptiness. The same four foundations of mindfulness: the śrāvaka takes them to realise for himself, the bodhisattva practises them to deliver beings, and the dividing line lies precisely in this original vow and great compassion that prajñā gathers in. Past the second threshold of the sūtra text, the Buddha lists all the remaining limbs of the path in one breath: the four right efforts, the four divisions of the bases of supernormal power, the five faculties and five powers, the seven limbs of awakening and the eightfold path, the three samādhi, the eleven knowledges, the three faculties, the ten recollections, the meditations and absorptions, up to the Buddha's ten powers, four fearlessnesses, four unobstructed knowledges, and eighteen unshared dharmas; every item is gathered into ‘because it is unfindable’. At the last it comes down to the forty-two syllable-gates: the gate of the syllable a, ‘because all dharmas from the first do not arise’, all the way to ‘beyond ḍha no syllable can be found’; the Buddha says 「因字有語，因語有名，因名有義」 tr. "from syllables come words, from words come names, from names comes meaning", and hearing one syllable one penetrates the real mark of all dharmas; and the bodhisattva distinguishes and breaks apart the syllables, words empty, names empty, meaning empty, 「得畢竟空，即是般若波羅蜜」 tr. "attaining ultimate emptiness, which is prajñāpāramitā". This is what the Chapter on the Four Foundations of Mindfulness wants you to grasp: from the four foundations of mindfulness to the forty-two syllable-gates, every enumerated limb of the path is sealed with ‘because it is unfindable’, all return alike to prajñā's nothing to be attained, and join together to form one body of the Great Vehicle: 「如是等種種分別，是名『菩薩摩訶薩摩訶衍』」 tr. "distinctions of every kind such as these are named ‘the bodhisattva-mahāsattva's Mahāyāna’".

The Four Foundations of Mindfulness Set Out: Body, Feeling, Mind, and Dharmas, Contemplated Inwardly and Outwardly, All Because They Cannot Be Found

The Buddha told Subhūti: ‘The Mahāyāna (the Great Vehicle) of the bodhisattva-mahāsattva is what are called the four foundations of mindfulness. What are the four?

‘Subhūti! The bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, yet does not give rise to the notion of a body as real, because the body in the end cannot be found; within the outer body, and within the inner-and-outer body, he contemplates by following the body through, and likewise does not give rise to the notion of a body, because it cannot be found. In this way he exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world. With regard to inner feelings, inner mind, and inner dharmas, outer feelings, outer mind, and outer dharmas, and inner-and-outer feelings, inner-and-outer mind, and inner-and-outer dharmas, he likewise contemplates by following them through, and does not give rise to the notion of dharmas as real, because they cannot be found. In the same way he exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (1): Walking, Standing, Sitting, and Lying Down—As the Body Acts, So He Knows

‘Subhūti! How does the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplate by following the body through? Subhūti! If, when the bodhisattva-mahāsattva is walking, he knows that he is walking; when he is standing, he knows that he is standing; when he is sitting upright, he knows that he is sitting upright; when he is lying down to rest, he knows that he is lying down to rest; whatever the body is doing, he knows it just so, as it truly is. Subhūti! It is in this way that the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (2): Coming and Going, Bending and Raising, Wearing the Robe and Holding the Bowl, Moving and Still, Speaking and Silent—Always with a Single Mind

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! Whether the bodhisattva-mahāsattva is coming forward or going away, he looks and gazes with a single mind; bending and stretching his arms, bowing his body and raising his head, putting on the saṃghāṭī (the great robe), holding his robe and bowl, eating and drinking, lying down to rest, sitting and standing, sleeping, speaking and keeping silent, entering meditative absorption and emerging from meditative absorption—in all of these, too, he always makes his mind single. In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva practises prajñāpāramitā and, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, because the body cannot be found.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (3): The In-Breath and the Out-Breath, Known According to Their Length, Like a Rope-Turner Holding the Cord

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! When the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, he knows it moment by moment with a single mind: “When breathing in, he knows he is breathing in; when breathing out, he knows he is breathing out; when the in-breath is long, he knows the in-breath is long; when the out-breath is long, he knows the out-breath is long; when the in-breath is short, he knows the in-breath is short; when the out-breath is short, he knows the out-breath is short. It is like a master rope-turner, or a master rope-turner's apprentice: when the cord is long he knows it is long, and when the cord is short he knows it is short.” The bodhisattva-mahāsattva likewise knows it moment by moment with a single mind: “When breathing in, he knows he is breathing in; when breathing out, he knows he is breathing out; when the in-breath is long, he knows the in-breath is long; when the out-breath is long, he knows the out-breath is long; when the in-breath is short, he knows the in-breath is short; when the out-breath is short, he knows the out-breath is short.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (4): Contemplating the Four Great Elements of the Body, Like a Cattle-Butcher Dividing the Carcass into Four Parts

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! The bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the four great elements in the body and reflects thus: “In the body there are the earth element, the water element, the fire element, and the wind element.” It is like a master cattle-butcher, or a master cattle-butcher's apprentice, who kills an ox with a knife and divides it into four parts; having divided it into four parts, whether standing or sitting, he looks at these four parts. The bodhisattva-mahāsattva is likewise: when practising prajñāpāramitā, he contemplates in all kinds of ways the four great elements in the body—the earth element, the water element, the fire element, and the wind element. In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, because the body cannot be found.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (5): The Thirty-Six Impure Things from Sole to Crown, Like a Clear-Eyed Man Opening a Granary

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! The bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the inner body from the soles of the feet right up to the crown of the head, wrapped all round in a thin skin, with all kinds of impurities filling the body; and he reflects thus: “In the body there are head-hair, body-hair, nails, teeth, thin skin, thick skin, sinews, flesh, bones, marrow, spleen, kidneys, heart, liver, lungs, small intestine, large intestine, stomach, bladder, excrement, urine, grime, sweat, eyes, tears, nasal mucus, saliva, pus, blood, yellow humour, white phlegm, the fatty grease, fat, suet, brain, and membranes.” It is like a farmer's granary, partitioned into compartments holding various grains, filled with all kinds of things—rice, sesame, millet, foxtail millet, beans, and wheat; a clear-eyed man, as soon as he opens the granary, knows: this is sesame, this is millet, this is rice, this is foxtail millet, this is wheat, this is beans, telling each kind apart quite clearly. The bodhisattva-mahāsattva likewise contemplates this body, from the soles of the feet to the crown of the head, wrapped all round in thin skin, with all kinds of impurities filling the body, from head-hair, body-hair, nails, and teeth, right up to brain and membranes. In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the inner body, exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.’

The Foundation of Mindfulness of the Body (6): The Nine Contemplations of the Corpse, from Bloated and Livid to White Bones Like Shells

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, after one day, two days, up to five days, swollen and bloated, turned livid and purple, with pus flowing out, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, after six days, seven days, torn and devoured by crows, kites, eagles, vultures, jackals, wolves, foxes, dogs, and all kinds of birds and beasts such as these, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, within the inner body, contemplates by following the body through, exerts himself with vigour, makes his mind single, and removes the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, after the birds and beasts have eaten it, with its leftover filth impure, festering and stinking, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” And so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, with only the skeleton left, smeared and stained with the remaining blood and flesh, the sinews and bones still joined together, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” And so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, the blood and flesh on the skeleton already stripped away, the sinews and bones still joined together, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” And so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, the skeleton already scattered on the ground, he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the inner body, and so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! If the bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the body of a dead person that has been cast away, the bones scattered on the ground—the foot bones in one place, the shin bones, the thigh bones, the hip bones, the rib bones, the spine, the arm bones, the neck bones, the skull, each scattered in a different place—he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the inner body, and so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world.

‘Furthermore, Subhūti! The bodhisattva-mahāsattva sees the bones of this dead person that has been cast away left on the ground, over many years and long days, blown by the wind and baked by the sun, their colour as white as sea-shells; he then reflects to himself: “This body of mine too has this form, this nature; it has not yet escaped this nature.” In this way, Subhūti, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates the inner body, and so on, up to removing the craving and sorrow of the world, because the body cannot be found.’

The Treatise-Author First Sets Out Ten Questions: The Twelve Contemplations, Inner and Outer, Contemplating by Following the Body, the Notion of a Body, the Single Mind, Removing Craving and Sorrow, Impurity, and the Four Postures

What follows is the treatise's explanation.

Question: Within the four foundations of mindfulness there are all kinds of methods of contemplation; why are only twelve kinds of contemplation spoken of—that is, the threefold inner, outer, and inner-and-outer, multiplied by the four places of body, feeling, mind, and dharmas? Furthermore, what is inner? What is outer? Since inner contemplation and outer contemplation have already been made, why is inner-and-outer contemplation spoken of separately as well?

Furthermore, among the four foundations of mindfulness, one foundation of mindfulness is inner, included among inner dharmas—namely, the foundation of mindfulness of the mind; two foundations of mindfulness are outer, included among outer dharmas—namely, the foundation of mindfulness of feelings and the foundation of mindfulness of dharmas; one foundation of mindfulness is inner-and-outer, included among inner-and-outer dharmas—namely, the foundation of mindfulness of the body. That being so, why is it said again that these four dharmas are all inner, all outer, and all inner-and-outer?

Why is it not simply said ‘contemplating the body’, but instead ‘contemplating by following the body’? How does one contemplate the body without giving rise to the notion of a body? Why is ‘diligent vigour and a single mind’ spoken of? All thirty-seven limbs of the path ought to speak of ‘a single mind’; why is ‘a single mind’ spoken of here in particular? Here, when practising the four foundations of mindfulness, all five hindrances ought to be removed; why is only ‘removing craving’ spoken of? Worldly joy can hinder the work of the path just as well; why is only ‘removing sorrow’ spoken of? The methods of contemplating the body are of all kinds—impermanence, suffering, emptiness, non-self, and so on; why now is only ‘impurity’ spoken of? If one only wishes to contemplate impurity, why must one also be mindful of the body's four postures and so on? This sort of matter is known at a glance—how is it worth asking!

Answering the Twelve Contemplations: They Break Three Wrong Practices, and from Them the Practitioner Gains a Concentrated Mind

Answer: From these twelve kinds of contemplation the practitioner gains a concentrated mind. There were previously three wrong practices—clinging to the inner, clinging to the outer, and clinging to the inner-and-outer; to break these three wrong practices, there are three right practices. Some people's attachment to the inner is great and their attachment to the outer slight, as when someone, for his own sake, is able to give up wife and children, relatives, and wealth; some people's attachment to the outer is great and their attachment to the inner slight, as when someone loses his body out of greed for wealth, or his life for the sake of desire; some people's attachment to the inner and to the outer are both great—to counteract these three one-sided attachments, three right practices are spoken of.

Furthermore, one's own body is called the inner body, and the bodies of others are called the outer body; the nine sense-fields that feel (the faculties endowed with consciousness, such as eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) are called the inner body, and the nine sense-fields that do not feel (outer objects and other places without consciousness) are called the outer body; the five sense faculties such as the eye are called the inner body, and the five sense-objects such as form are called the outer body; in all kinds of ways like these, inner and outer are distinguished.

The Fourfold Distinction of Inner and Outer Bodies; Only by Contemplating Inner and Outer Together Is Right Concentration Gained

The practitioner first contemplates the inner body with the wisdom of impurity, impermanence, suffering, emptiness, non-self, and so on, and cannot find any fine mark in this body: he finds no mark of purity, finds no mark of permanence, finds no pleasure, finds no self, finds nothing real. The inner body having been found unfindable, he next contemplates the outer body, seeking purity, permanence, self, pleasure, and the real, and these likewise cannot be found. If he still cannot find them, he then gives rise to doubt: “When I contemplated the inner body, perhaps I was mistaken about the outer body; when I contemplated the outer body, perhaps I was mistaken about the inner body.” Now he contemplates inner and outer together at one time, and still they cannot be found. At this time the mind gains right concentration and knows that this body is impure, impermanent, suffering, empty, and without self, like a sickness, like a boil, like a sore, its nine openings oozing filth, this body a walking privy; before long it must break down, scatter, and come to an end, full of the marks of death; the many sufferings—hunger and thirst, cold and heat, whips and staves, fetters and confinement, abuse, slander, old age and sickness, and so on—constantly surround it, and it has no mastery of itself. Within it is empty and void; there is no master, nor anyone who knows, anyone who sees, anyone who acts, anyone who receives; there are only empty dharmas existing through the coming together of causes and conditions, arising of themselves and ceasing of themselves, belonging to nothing, just like grass and trees. Precisely because of this, inner and outer must be contemplated together.

The remaining meaning of inner and outer is as explained in ‘the eighteen emptinesses’.

Explaining ‘Contemplating by Following the Body’ and ‘Not Giving Rise to the Notion of a Body’: Tracing and Contemplating without Raising Idle Discourse

‘Contemplating by following the body’ means tracing the marks of the body and contemplating in accordance with them, knowing its impurity—aging, sickness, and death, festering and stinking, its joints and bones rotting, wearing away and returning to dust. It is just as with this body of mine: it is covered only by a thin skin, yet it drives people mad and deluded and gives rise to endless worries and fears. Precisely because of this, one must follow the marks of the body inner and outer in sequence, contemplating from root to branch. It is also as the Buddha taught the method of contemplating by following the body.

‘Not giving rise to the notion of a body’ means not grasping at marks of the body as one or as different and so giving rise to idle discourse. Beings give rise to all kinds of notions and thoughts about this body: some give rise to notions of purity, some to notions of impurity; some give rise to notions of anger, dwelling on the wrongs of others; some people contemplate this body thus: “What dharma, after all, is the body? Are the boundaries of the parts of the body one? Or are they different?”—one does not give rise to notions of all these kinds. Why? Because they bring no benefit at all, and on the contrary obstruct the path to nirvāṇa.

Furthermore, other ordinary people and śrāvakas can contemplate the body only by grasping the marks of the body, whereas the bodhisattva is able to contemplate the body without grasping the marks of the body.

Explaining ‘Diligent Vigour and a Single Mind’ and ‘Removing the Craving and Sorrow of the World’: Drilling the Fire-Stick for Fire, Splitting the Bamboo Through Its Joints

As for ‘diligent vigour and a single mind’: the remaining worldly affairs come easily, having been constantly habituated and constantly done from the beginningless world onward—just as parting from an ordinary acquaintance is easy but parting from a close friend is hard; parting from a close friend is easy but parting from father and son is hard; parting from father and son is easy but parting from one's own body is hard; parting from one's own body is easy but parting from one's own mind is hard. If one does not make one's own mind single and exert oneself with vigour, this cannot be done! It is like drilling wood to seek fire: one drills earnestly with a single mind, without pausing and without stopping, and only then obtains fire; therefore it is said ‘a single mind and diligent vigour’.

As for ‘removing the craving and sorrow of the world’: once craving is removed, the five hindrances are all swept away; it is like splitting a bamboo—once the first joint is split, all the other joints split open along with it. Furthermore, the practitioner leaves the five desires and goes forth to train in the path; having already given up worldly pleasure but not yet having gained the pleasure of meditative absorption, at times his mind gives rise to sorrowful thoughts, like a fish longing for water. Such is the nature of the mind: it constantly seeks pleasurable things and turns back to think of what it originally desired. Practitioners mostly give rise to these two kinds of mind, so the Buddha said ‘one should remove craving and sorrow’. To say ‘craving’ is also to say worldly joy, because the two are associated.

Why Impurity Is Contemplated First, and Why the Four Postures Are Attended to First

The reason impurity is contemplated first: the human body is fundamentally impure, but because it is covered by a thin skin, one first gives rise to the notion of purity and afterwards to the other inversions; precisely because of this, the contemplation of impurity is spoken of first.

Furthermore, beings are mostly attached to sensual pleasure and grasp at the mark of purity; anger and wrong views are not like this, so one first counteracts desire by contemplating impurity.

The reason for being mindful of the body's four postures and so on: first one must break this thief, the body; for one who has gained a single mind, whatever he does can be accomplished. Precisely because of this, one must first trace out what this body does and how it acts—coming and going, lying down and waking, sitting in meditation—contemplating what the body does, always single-minded and composed, without confusion. Contemplating in this way and looking with impurity, samādhi is easily gained.

Ānāpāna Guards Against Initial and Sustained Thought, and These Two Dharmas Are the First Gates of Ambrosia; the Contemplation of Impurity Sees the Body as Grass, Trees, Tiles, and Stones

Although the body is composed, within there are all kinds of evil initial and sustained thoughts disturbing the mind; precisely because of this, the sixteen parts of ānāpāna (the in-breath and out-breath) are spoken of to guard against initial and sustained thought. The meaning of ānāpāna is as was said earlier. When the body is composed and the mind free of confusion, then practising the contemplation of impurity is secure and firm. If one practises the contemplation of impurity first, then because the mind is wild and confused, one takes the impure for the mark of purity instead. In the Buddha-dharma, these two dharmas (the contemplation of impurity and ānāpāna) are called the first gates of ambrosia.

The contemplation of impurity means that the bodhisattva-mahāsattva contemplates this body as no different from grass, trees, tiles, and stones.

The Four Great Elements Are Like the Butcher's Four Parts of the Ox, and the Self Is Not in the Four Elements; the Granary Simile for the Thirty-Six Things

The four great elements outside this body turn into food and drink and fill out the inner body: what is hard is earth, what is moist is water, what is warm is fire, what moves is wind; these four, having entered within, are the body. Within these four parts, each is without self and without anything belonging to a self, following each its own specific mark, not following people's wishes. Suffering, emptiness, and the rest are spoken of in the same way.

As for ‘whether sitting or standing’: lying down, one becomes lax—the body does not move, and the mind too does not move; walking, the mind is scattered—the body is not still, and the mind too is not still.

To use a matter the eye can see to illustrate what cannot be seen, this simile is spoken: the ‘ox’ is the practitioner's body; the ‘butcher’ is the practitioner; the ‘knife’ is sharp wisdom; ‘taking the ox's life’ is breaking the mark of the body as one; the ‘four parts’ are the four great elements. When the butcher looks at the four parts of the ox, there is no further ox, nor is it an ox; the practitioner's contemplation of the body's four great elements is likewise. These four great elements are not called the body. Why? How could these four great elements be one and the same body? Moreover, the four great elements are the general mark and the body is the specific mark; if the outer four great elements are not called the body, it is only when they enter the body that they are provisionally named body. The self is not within the four great elements, and the four great elements are not within the self; the self is far removed from the four great elements, and only through inversion is it falsely reckoned to be the body. Using this wisdom of dispersal-emptiness to analyse the four great elements and the form derived from them, one then enters the latter three foundations of mindfulness (feeling, mind, and dharmas), and only then can one enter the path.

Again, this body, from the feet to the hair and from the hair to the feet, is wrapped all round in thin skin; thinking it over again and again, there is not a single place that is pure. Head-hair, body-hair, and so on up to the brain-membrane: briefly spoken, these are thirty-six things; broadly spoken, they are very many. The granary is the body; the farmer is the practitioner; sowing grain in the field is the causes and conditions of the practitioner's bodily karma; the fruit that forms and is gathered into the granary is the body the practitioner obtains when his causes and conditions ripen. Rice, sesame, millet, foxtail millet, and the rest are the various impurities in the body. When the farmer opens the granary, he knows the various differences of sesame, millet, wheat, and beans; this is the practitioner's contemplation of impurity—opening the granary of this body with the eye of wisdom and looking, he knows that this body is filled with impurity and will in the end fall to ruin, whether harmed by others or dying of itself. In this body there is only excrement and urine, impurity, all kinds of foul discharges, and so on.

Two Kinds of Impurity, the Already-Decayed and the Not-Yet-Decayed; the Corpse's Decay Plainly Seen

Having contemplated the impurity of the inner body, one now contemplates the decay of the outer body; therefore two kinds of impurity are spoken of: the first is the already-decayed, the second the not-yet-decayed. First one contemplates one's own body in its state not yet broken down, still with consciousness; if a person's fetters are thin and his faculties keen, he at once gives rise to revulsion; a person of dull faculties and thick fetters contemplates the already-decayed dead person, fearful and loathsome.

If a person has been dead from one day to five days, his kin are still keeping watch; at this time the birds and beasts have not yet come to eat, and the corpse is livid and bruised, swollen and bloated, pus and blood flowing out, the belly burst open, the five organs festering, the excrement and urine foul—extremely loathsome and repulsive. The practitioner reflects: “This physical body was formerly so lovely—coming and going, speaking, bewitching and alluring, with a thousand charming poses, confusing people's feelings, loved by those given to lust; looking at it now, where is that lovely colour? As the Buddha said, it is truly a dharma of illusion and conjuration, merely deceiving eyes that lack wisdom!” Now that the truth of this has been laid bare, the practitioner then reflects: “My body and that corpse are equal and without difference; neither has yet escaped this nature—why should I love myself and also be attached to others? And why should I value myself and despise others?” Having contemplated in this way, the mind becomes tamed and can be used to seek the path, and is able to remove the craving and sorrow of the world.

Reflecting further: when this corpse has just died, birds and beasts that see it think it is not a dead person and dare not approach; precisely because of this, it is said, “After six or seven days, when the relatives have gone away, crows, vultures, jackals, and their like come vying to devour it.” When the skin and flesh are gone, it changes day by day; precisely because of this, it is said, “only a skeleton remains.” Seeing this, one gives rise all the more to a mind of revulsion and renunciation, reflecting: “This heart, liver, skin, and flesh in truth have no self; only because this body has gathered the causes and conditions of wrongdoing and merit does it undergo immeasurable suffering!” At once he again reflects to himself: “Before long this body of mine will in the end become like this; it has not yet escaped this nature.” At times the practitioner sees a skeleton on the ground, soaked by the rain, baked by the sun and blown by the wind, with only white bones left; at times he sees the bones of long years, sinews severed and joints loosened, scattered in every direction, their colour like a dove's; at times they are rotted and crumbled, the same colour as the earth.

The Corpse Matched to the Four Contemplations of Impurity, Impermanence, Non-Self, and Suffering; with the Four Noble Practices Inner and Outer Are Contemplated Together

First contemplating the thirty-six things, and the corpse swollen and bloated from one day to five days: this is the contemplation of impurity. The birds and beasts coming to eat, and so on up to becoming the same colour as the earth: this is the contemplation of impermanence. Seeking within this for a self or for what belongs to a self, neither can be found, because, as was said earlier, ‘it arises from causes and conditions and has no mastery of itself’: this is the contemplation of non-self. Contemplating that the marks of the body are thus, with not one thing to delight in; and that if someone is attached to it, he then gives rise to sorrow and suffering: this is called the contemplation of suffering.

Using these four noble practices (impurity, impermanence, non-self, and suffering) to contemplate the outer body, one knows for oneself that one's own body is also thus, and afterwards contemplates inner and outer together.

Whipping the Mind into Submission Can Remove Craving and Sorrow; the Two Thieves, Craving and Sorrow, and the Falseness of Worldly Pleasure

If the mind is scattered, one should be mindful of the suffering of old age, sickness, and death and of the three evil paths, of the impermanence of body and life, and that the Buddha-dharma will perish; using these to whip one's own mind into submission, one binds it back again to the contemplation of impurity: this is called ‘diligent vigour’. Because of a single mind and diligent vigour, one is able to remove craving and sorrow.

Craving and sorrow, these two thieves, rob me of the Dharma-treasure; the practitioner reflects thus: “This body is impermanent, impure, and loathsome; why do beings such as these still crave this body and raise all kinds of causes and conditions for committing wrongs?” Having reflected in this way, he knows that in this body there are the five inner faculties and outside there are the five desires, and from the coming together of the two, the inverted pleasure of the world arises! The human mind seeks pleasure, and from the very beginning has never had a time of rest. One should contemplate whether this pleasure is real or empty. Even the body, firm as it is, must still scatter and perish—how much more this pleasure!

Sexual Desire Robs the Life of Wisdom; Because the Mind Arises and Ceases Moment by Moment, It Is Impermanent and Without Self

This pleasure, too, has no place where it abides: the future has not yet come, the past has already perished, the present does not stay—moment by moment it is perishing; only because suffering is screened off is it called pleasure, and there is no real pleasure! It is like food and drink: only because the suffering of hunger and thirst is removed are they taken for pleasure for a while, and when one goes past the measure, suffering arises again, as was said earlier in ‘refuting pleasure’. It can be known that the pleasures of the world all arise from causes and conditions of suffering and are also able to produce the fruit of suffering; they deceive people for a moment, but the suffering afterwards is immeasurable. It is like fine food mixed with poison: though the food is fragrant and delicious, the poison harms people; the pleasure of the world is likewise.

Because the poisons of sexual desire, the afflictions, and so on rob one of the life of wisdom, the mind becomes wild and deluded, abandoning benefit and taking up loss—who is it that experiences this pleasure? Only mind-consciousness. When this mind is closely contemplated, it arises and ceases moment by moment; only because it continues without break can its mark be taken, like waves of water or the flame of a lamp. The mind that experiences suffering is not the mind that experiences pleasure; the mind that experiences pleasure is not the mind that experiences suffering; the mind that experiences what is neither suffering nor pleasure is not the mind that experiences suffering or pleasure; the marks of the mind at each time are each different; precisely because of this, the mind is impermanent.

Because it is impermanent, it has no mastery; because it has no mastery, it is without self. Perception, construction, recollection, and the rest are likewise.

The marks, inner and outer, of the remaining three foundations of mindfulness (feeling, mind, and dharmas) are as was said earlier.

The Four Noble Practices Break the Four Inversions; Matched to the Four Truths, One Enters the Stage of Warmth and the Stage of the Summit

Practising these four noble practices breaks the four inversions (purity, pleasure, permanence, and self); because the four inversions are broken, the gate of the real mark is opened; once the gate of the real mark is opened, one is ashamed of what one had habitually practised before. It is like someone who eats something impure in the night; when others point out that it was not a good thing, he feels ashamed on account of it.

Contemplating the impurity, impermanence, and so on of these four dharmas is called the truth of suffering; this suffering comes from craving and the other afflictions—this is the truth of origination; craving and the other afflictions being cut off—this is the truth of cessation; the means of cutting off craving and the other afflictions—this is the truth of the path.

Contemplating the four truths in this way, one deeply believes in the path to nirvāṇa, and the mind dwells in happiness, as though already uncontaminated; this is called ‘the stage of warmth’. It is like someone drilling for fire who already has warmth: he surely expects to obtain fire.

Having believed in this Dharma, the mind loves and delights in the Buddha, this Dharma being just as the Buddha said, as when someone takes good medicine and his illness is cured, he then knows the skill of the physician; all those who have taken the medicine and been cured are foremost among humans—this is faith in the Saṅgha; in this way one believes in the Three Jewels. The stage of warmth increases vigour, and because wrongdoing and merit are evenly balanced, it is called ‘the stage of the summit’. It is like someone climbing a mountain who has reached the summit: the ways down on either side are equal. From the summit to acceptance, right up to arhatship, is the path on one side; from warmth to the summit is the path on the other side.

The Fruit of the Śrāvakas and What the Bodhisattva Does Not Share with Them: Not Forgetting the Original Vow, Compliant Acceptance and the Acceptance of the Non-Arising of Dharmas

In the Dharma of the śrāvakas, contemplating the four foundations of mindfulness, the fruit obtained is just this.

In the Dharma of the bodhisattva, within this contemplation one does not forget the original vow and does not abandon great compassion; first one tames the ground of the mind with emptiness that cannot be found, and dwells in this ground of the mind; although there are still afflictions, the mind always does not fall; it is like someone who, though he has not yet killed the thief, has bound and confined him in one place.

The bodhisattva's stage of the summit is as was said earlier under ‘the dharma-position’.

Acceptance and the highest worldly dharma are the bodhisattva's compliant acceptance of dharmas.

The path of the srota-āpanna, up to the path of the arhat and the pratyekabuddha, is the bodhisattva's acceptance of the non-arising of dharmas. As the Buddha himself says in a later chapter: “The wisdom or the realisation of the srota-āpanna is all the bodhisattva's acceptance of the non-arising of dharmas.”

The Four Foundations of Mindfulness, the Four Right Efforts, and the Four Bases of Supernormal Power: The Division of Labour among Wisdom, Vigour, and Concentration; Why They Are Named Foundations of Mindfulness

The four right efforts and the four bases of supernormal power, although each has its own separate rank, are all within the four foundations of mindfulness. Because wisdom predominates, they are called ‘the four foundations of mindfulness’; because vigour predominates, they are called ‘the four right efforts’; because concentration predominates, they are called ‘the four bases of supernormal power’.

Question: If that is so, why are they not called ‘foundations of knowledge’ but ‘foundations of mindfulness’? Answer: When one first habitually practises, there is not yet time for wisdom; mindfulness is the first gate—one is constantly mindful of its object—and because this wisdom arises following mindfulness, they are named with ‘mindfulness’. The real substance of the four foundations of mindfulness is wisdom. Why? Contemplating the inner and outer body is wisdom; mindfulness holds wisdom in the object and does not let it scatter, so they are called ‘foundations of mindfulness’.

Explaining the Names Right Effort and Bases of Supernormal Power; Distinguishing Faculties, Powers, Path, and Awakening

Because they run counter to the ninety-six kinds of wrong practice in seeking the path, they are called ‘right efforts’. Those of the outside paths and others give up the five desires and torment their own bodies, yet they are unable to give up what is evil and unwholesome, and also unable to accumulate wholesome dharmas. The Buddha has two dharmas for cutting off what is evil and unwholesome: what has already come is removed, and what has not yet come is guarded against so that it does not arise; wholesome dharmas are likewise of two kinds: wholesome dharmas not yet arisen are made to arise, and wholesome dharmas already arisen are made to increase—these are called ‘right efforts’.

The fire of wisdom, obtaining the wind of right effort, burns everything. If right effort goes too far, the mind becomes scattered and the fire of wisdom on the contrary grows weak; it is like a fire that obtains wind: if the wind is too strong, the fire sometimes on the contrary goes out or grows faint and cannot burn or give light. Therefore concentration must be used to check the excessive wind of vigour, and only then can concentration be gained. Concentration is of four kinds: the concentration of desire, the concentration of vigour, the concentration of mind, and the concentration of reflection. Checking the excessive wisdom in the four foundations of mindfulness, at this time the path of concentration and wisdom, having obtained vigour, attains all that it wishes as it wishes; and because afterwards one attains one's wish and the matter is accomplished, they are called ‘bases of supernormal power’. ‘Base’ means the causes and conditions of attaining one's wish; it is also called ‘part’.

These twelve dharmas (the four foundations of mindfulness, the four right efforts, and the four bases of supernormal power), in people of dull faculties, are called ‘faculties’, like a tree that has roots but does not yet have strength; in people of keen faculties they are called ‘powers’—the matter is plain and clear, and they can swiftly accomplish something, like a sharp knife cutting through things, so they are said to have power. When the matter is not yet accomplished, they are called ‘path’; when the matter is accomplished, reflecting and practising, they are called ‘awakening’.

The discussion of the thirty-seven limbs of the path is as was said earlier.

Why One Who Practises the Thirty-Seven Limbs Does Not Grasp Nirvāṇa: The Buddhas of the Ten Directions Stroke His Head and Exhort Him; the Dharmas Are as Said Before, Gathered into Nothing to Be Attained

Question: If the bodhisattva practises these thirty-seven limbs of the path, why does he not grasp nirvāṇa? Answer: Because his original vow is firm; because the mind of great compassion has entered deeply; because he knows the real mark of all dharmas clearly and distinctly; because the Buddhas of the ten directions protect and keep him in mind. As a sūtra says: “When the bodhisattva reaches the seventh abode-stage, outwardly he contemplates all dharmas as empty and inwardly he contemplates non-self; like a man who in a dream binds a raft to cross a river, and midstream wakes up, and reflects thus: ‘I have been needlessly wearing myself out; there is no river and no raft—what is it I am crossing?’ The bodhisattva at that time is likewise; his mind then regrets and turns away: ‘What is it I am crossing? What is it I am extinguishing?’ He wishes only to extinguish that inverted mind for himself. At this time the Buddhas of the ten directions stretch out their hands and stroke his head: ‘Excellent! Child of the Buddha! Do not give rise to a mind of regret! Remember your original vow! Although you know this, beings have not yet awakened; you should use this dharma of emptiness to teach and transform beings. What you have attained is only a single gate; the Buddhas' immeasurable bodies, immeasurable voices, immeasurable Dharma-gates, all wisdom, and so on—none of these have you yet attained. Because you contemplate all dharmas as empty, you cling to this nirvāṇa; within the emptiness of all dharmas there is no place that can be extinguished, and no place that can be clung to; if extinction were truly real, you would long since have been extinguished. You have not yet fulfilled the six perfections, up to the eighteen unshared dharmas; you should fulfil these dharmas and sit at the seat of awakening, as is the Dharma of all Buddhas.’”

Furthermore, the three samādhi, the eleven knowledges, the three uncontaminated faculties, the samādhi with initial and sustained thought, the ten recollections, the four meditations, the four immeasurable minds, the four formless absorptions, the eight liberations, and the nine successive absorptions are as was said earlier.

Furthermore, the Buddha's ten powers, four fearlessnesses, four unobstructed knowledges, and eighteen unshared dharmas are as was said in the very first chapter.

All these dharmas, in the end, are (accomplished) through there being nothing to be attained. Because they are joined with the ultimate emptiness of prajñāpāramitā, it is called ‘removing the craving and sorrow of the world, because they cannot be found’.