Gayāśata

The eighteenth ancestor, Venerable Gayashata, served as attendant to Venerable Samghanandi. Once, hearing the sound of wind blowing the bronze bell in the hall, the venerable asked his teacher: 'Is it the bell ringing or the wind ringing?'The teacher said: 'Neither wind nor bell—it is my mind ringing.'The venerable said: 'And who is mind?'The teacher said: 'Both are utterly tranquil.'The venerable said: 'Excellent, excellent! The one who will succeed my way is none other than you.'Thereupon he transmitted the Dharma treasury.

He was from the land of Madhī. His family name was Uttara. His father was Deva-canopy, his mother Square-sage. Once she dreamed of a great deity holding a mirror, and thus conceived. After seven days she gave birth. His skin and body were lustrous like lapis lazuli. Never bathed, yet naturally fragrant and pure. From the time of his birth, a round mirror appeared. This mirror constantly accompanied the boy. The boy always loved tranquility and was entirely unstained by worldly conditions. This round mirror, when the boy sat, was present before him. All buddha-activities of past and present, none failed to appear in this mirror. It was even clearer than illuminating the mind according to sacred teachings. When the boy departed, this mirror followed behind like a circular halo, yet the boy's form was not concealed. When the boy lay down, this mirror covered him like a canopy above the bed. In all walking, standing, sitting, and lying, this mirror never failed to accompany him.

However, Venerable Samghanandi,

He was from the land of Madhī. His family name was Uttara. His father was Deva-canopy, his mother Square-sage. Once she dreamed of a great deity holding a mirror, and thus conceived. After seven days she gave birth. His skin and body were lustrous like lapis lazuli. Never bathed, yet naturally fragrant and pure. Traveling to teach, he arrived at the land of Madhī. Suddenly a cool breeze assailed the assembly; body and mind were joyfully at ease beyond the ordinary, yet they did not know why.

The venerable said: 'This is the wind of virtue. Surely there is a sage who will appear in the world to succeed the ancestral lamp.'Having spoken, using spiritual power he gathered the great assembly and traveled to the land of Madhī. Suddenly a cool breeze arose, assailing the assembly. Body and mind were joyfully at ease beyond the ordinary, yet they did not know why. The venerable said: 'This is the wind of virtue. Surely there is a sage who will appear in the world to succeed the ancestral lamp.'Having spoken, using spiritual power he gathered the great assembly and roamed through mountains and valleys. After a meal's time, arriving at the foot of a peak, he said to the assembly: 'On this peak's summit there is purple cloud like a canopy. A sage dwells there.'Then with the great assembly he wandered for a long time. Seeing a mountain hut, there was a boy holding a round mirror who came directly before the venerable. The venerable asked: 'How old are you?'He said: 'One hundred years.'The venerable said: 'You are still young. Why say one hundred years?'He said: 'I do not understand principle. Just exactly one hundred years.'The venerable said: 'Do you comprehend the vital point?'He said: 'The Buddha said: If a person lives one hundred years but does not comprehend the vital point of all buddhas, it is not equal to being born for one day and yet being able to penetrate it.'The venerable said: 'That which is in your hand—

What does it signify?'The boy said: 'The great round mirror of all buddhas, inside and outside without flaw or obscurity. Two persons together see it; mind and eye are both alike.'Hearing their son's words, the parents immediately relinquished him and let him leave home. The venerable took him to his original place, had him receive full precepts, and upon completion named him Gayashata. Once, hearing the sound of wind blowing the bronze bell in the hall, and so forth, thereupon he transmitted the Dharma treasury.

He wandered through valleys and mountains. After a meal's time, he arrived at the foot of a peak and said to the assembly: 'Above this peak's summit, there is purple cloud like a canopy. A sage resides here.'Then, together with the great assembly, he lingered for a long time. He saw a mountain hut where a young boy holding a round mirror came directly before the Venerable. The Venerable asked: 'How old are you?'He said: 'One hundred years old.'

The Venerable said: 'You are still young, why do you say one hundred years?'He said: 'I do not comprehend the principle, precisely one hundred years.'The Venerable said: 'Are you skilled in the essential point?'He said: 'The Buddha said: If a person lives one hundred years but does not comprehend the essential point of all buddhas, it is not equal to living one day and attaining decisive understanding.'The master said: 'What does that which is in your hand represent?'The boy said: 'The great round mirror of all buddhas, inside and outside without flaw or obscurity. Two people equally attain seeing, mind and eye are both similar.'Hearing their child's words, his parents then relinquished him to leave home. The Venerable brought him to his original place. After he received the full precepts, he was named Gayashata. Another time, hearing the wind blow the temple's bronze bell, the Venerable asked the master: 'Is it the bell ringing or the wind ringing?'The master said: 'Not wind, not bell, my own mind ringing.'The Venerable said: 'And mind, who is that?'The master said: 'Both are utterly tranquil.'The Venerable said: 'Excellent, excellent. The one who will continue my way is none other than you.'Then he transmitted the dharma verse. (Finally, he is listed as the eighteenth patriarch. That round mirror, at the time the boy left home, suddenly became invisible.)

Truly, each person possesses one segment of light; now, just as the round mirror has no flaw or obscurity inside or outside, all are completely similar.

Since this boy was born, he constantly praised buddha-work and did not mix with worldly affairs. Facing the bright mirror, he saw the buddha-work of past and present. Although he truly knew that mind and eye are both similar, he still thought he did not comprehend the essential point of all buddhas. Therefore he said one hundred years. Even if it were but one day, if one comprehends the essential point of all buddhas, one not only surpasses one hundred years, but can also transcend countless lifetimes. For this reason, he finally relinquished the round mirror; truly this is the one great matter cause and condition of all buddhas—do not neglect it. That it is not easy can be known even from this cause and condition. Truly he understood the great round mirror of all buddhas. Could there be anything remaining?

Nevertheless, this is still not the true bottom. How could there be a great round mirror of all buddhas? And how could two people equally attain? And how could there be no flaw or obscurity inside or outside? What would be called flaw or obscurity? What is mind and eye? How could they possibly be similar? Therefore, losing the round mirror—is this not losing the boy's skin and flesh?

Yet even if one's seeing is as now, with mind and eye not separated, and even if one comprehends 'two people equally attain seeing,'this is truly the seeing of two individuals. It is still not the bottom that truly illuminates oneself.

Therefore, you people, do not create views about the circle. Do not create views about the body's form. You must thoroughly investigate in detail, and urgently shatter both the dependent and primary retributions at once, and you may attain that which is not understood. If you do not reach this ground, you are merely sentient beings of karmic retribution, not yet having encountered the capacity of all buddhas.

Having thus repented and made prostrations of gratitude, he finally left home and received the precepts, and afterward attended upon Sanghanandi for years. Once, hearing the sound of the wind blowing the bronze bell on the hall, the Venerable One asked his teacher, saying: 'Is it the bell that rings, or the wind that rings?'

This cause and condition should truly be examined in detail. Even if the Venerable One ultimately saw neither bell nor wind, what further would this allow him to know? Therefore, asking 'Is it the bell that rings or the wind that rings?'—what is this matter? It should not be understood through the wind-bell. It is not an ordinary wind-bell; it is precisely the bell hung on the corner of the hall. Called a bell or clapper, these have all been hung on southern capital halls and pavilions. By this, dwellings and temple halls are distinguished. Since becoming the northern capital, initially, although bell clappers were hung on halls,

in recent times, local customs have declined and there is no such meaning. However, the meaning in Western Heaven is also like this. When the wind blows this bell-clapper, there was this koan.

Yet the teacher answered, saying: 'It is not the wind, nor the bell; only my mind rings.'Truly knowing that nothing emerges beyond a single speck of dust. Therefore, it is not the wind ringing, nor the bell ringing. Also, if you think it rings, then it is ringing. Even such a view is still not the mind being tranquil. Therefore,

he then said: 'It is my mind that rings.'Hearing this cause and condition, people all misinterpret it. They necessarily think it is not the wind ringing, but only the mind ringing. Therefore, Gayashata spoke thus. If, when all is naturally and spontaneously unmanifested, could one say it is not the bell ringing? Therefore, 'It is my mind that rings.'From Gayashata to the Sixth Patriarch, the ages are far apart. Yet they are not separate at all. Therefore, it is said: 'It is not the wind and banner that move; it is your mind that moves.'Now you people also, when your mind-ground thoroughly penetrates, the three times are fundamentally unseparated. Verification links past and present continuously. Why distinguish sameness or difference?'

Do not discern through ordinary perception. It is not the wind that sounds, nor the bell. Only when you realize this can you begin to understand. If you wonder what this knowledge is, you must know that it is the sounding of your own mind. The form of its sounding is like the towering height of a mountain and the profound depth of a calm sea. The dense growth of plants and trees, as well as the clear vision of people, are all forms of the mind's sounding. Therefore, do not think it is the sound that resonates.

Sound too is the sounding of the mind. The four great elements, the five aggregates, all phenomena—all are entirely the sounding of the mind. This mind never ceases to sound. Thus, it ultimately carries no echo. Moreover, it is not heard with the ears.

The ear itself is sound; therefore, it is said to be altogether tranquil.

When you see in this way, all phenomena have no place from which they emerge. Thus, there is no form of mountain, no form of sea,

nor any form or appearance of a single dharma. It is just like dreaming of floating an orchid boat upon the vast ocean.

Whether raising the pole to part the waves or mooring the boat to fathom the water's force, there is no sky to float upon, no bottom to sink into. What could possibly stand beyond mountains and seas? What could play within one's own boat? Therefore, it is pointed out in this manner.

Though there are eyes, there is no hearing; though there are ears, there is no seeing. Therefore, one cannot say that the six sense faculties interpenetrate. There is nothing for the six faculties to carry. Hence, they are all tranquil. When trying to grasp, there are no six faculties; when trying to discard, there are no six objects. Both faculties and objects are transcended; both mind and environment are forgotten. Upon close examination, there are no faculties or objects to transcend, no mind or environment to extinguish. Truly silent and still, it is not a matter of sameness or difference, not a matter of internal or external feelings. When one truly arrives at such a state, one receives and upholds the dharma treasury of all buddhas, and is rightly arranged in the rank of buddhas and ancestors.

If it is not like this, even if one comprehends that all dharmas are not mistaken, one still preserves oneself and discusses others, ultimately keeping dharmas separate and distinct. If they are separate, how can one be in accord with buddhas and ancestors? It is like building a wall in empty space. How can empty space be partitioned? One merely creates boundaries and obstacles oneself. When the boundaries are once broken through, what is there to call internal or external?

Upon reaching this point, even old man Shakyamuni is not the beginning. You, all people, are also not the end. Altogether, there is no face of all buddhas, no form and appearance of all people. When it is like this, it is just like clear water forming waves; buddhas and ancestors emerge and proceed. Although this is neither increase nor decrease, as water flows and waves surge, one should investigate thoroughly and thereby arrive at such a state. From time immemorial, extending to the eternal future,

Even though boundaries are made and the three times are arranged, altogether, from kalpa to kalpa, it is only like this.

To comprehend this clear and bright inherent nature, one should not trouble oneself with skin and flesh, nor discern by the movement and stillness of the body. This state altogether cannot be known by body and mind, nor discerned by movement and stillness. One must investigate thoroughly, rest and cease by oneself, and undertake it oneself—only then can one attain it. If one does not clarify it in this way, one will merely carry body and mind around all day long. It is like placing a heavy burden on one's shoulders; body and mind will never find peace. If one puts down body and mind, and the mind-ground is vast and empty, one attains what is most ordinary. Yet, even though it is like this, the causal conditions from before—

If one cannot express and clarify where the mind rings out, one will not know the emergence of buddhas, nor will one know the enlightenment of sentient beings.

Therefore, to realize the Way through the mind's resonance, one must attach humble words. Do you wish to hear them?

In the profound silence, the mind's resonance echoes in myriad forms: the sangha's robes, the temple bells, and the wind chimes.