a buddhist perspective

The practice and understanding of impermanence is not just another description of reality. It is a tool that helps us in our transformation, healing and emancipation.

Impermanence means that everything changes and that nothing remains the same in any consecutive moments. And although things change every moment, they still cannot be accurately described as the same or as different from what they were a moment ago.

When we bathe in the river today that we bathed in yesterday, is it the same river? Heraclitus said that we couldn’t step into the same river twice. He was right. The water in the river today is completely different from the water we bathed in yesterday. Yet it is the same river. …

The insight of impermanence helps us to go beyond all concepts. It helps us to go beyond same and different and coming and going. It helps us to see that the river is not the same river but is also not different either. It shows us that the flame we lit on our bedside candle before we went to bed is not the same flame that is burning the next morning. The flame on the table is not two flames, but it is not one flame either.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh, no death, no fear

No one knows what sort of man Han-shan was. There are old people who knew him: they say he was a poor man, a crazy character. He lived alone seventy Li (23 miles) west of the T'ang-hsing district of T'ien-t'ai at a place called Cold Mountain. He often went down to the Kuo-ch'ing Temple. At the temple lived Shih'te, who ran the dining hall. He sometimes saved leftovers for Han-shan, hiding them in a bamboo tube. Han-shan would come and carry it away; walking the long veranda, calling and shouting happily, talking and laughing to himself. Once the monks followed him, caught him, and made fun of him. He stopped, clapped his hands, and laughed greatly - Ha Ha! - for a spell, then left.

He looked like a tramp. His body and face were old and beat. Yet in every word he breathed was a meaning in line with the subtle principles of things, if only you thought of it deeply. Everything he said had a feeling of Tao in it, profound and arcane secrets. His hat was made of birch bark, his clothes were ragged and worn out, and his shoes were wood. Thus men who have made it hide their tracks: unifying categories and interpenetrating things. On that long veranda calling and singing, in his words of reply Ha Ha! - the three worlds revolve. Sometimes at the villages and farms he laughed and sang with cowherds. Sometimes intractable, sometimes agreeable, his nature was happy of itself. But how could a person without wisdom recognize him?

I once received a position as a petty official at Tan-ch'iu. The day I was to depart, I had a bad headache. I called a doctor, but he couldn't cure me and it turned worse. Then I met a Buddhist Master named Feng-kan, who said he came from the Kuo-ch'ing Temple of T'ien-t'ai especially to visit me. I asked him to rescue me from my illness. He smiled and said, "The four realms are within the body; sickness comes from illusion. If you want to do away with it, you need pure water." Someone brought water to the Master, who spat it on me. In a moment the disease was rooted out.

He then said, "There are miasmas in T'ai prefecture, when you get there take care of yourself." I asked him, "Are there any wise men in your area I could look on as Master?" He replied, "When you see him you don't recognize him, when you recognize him you don't see him. If you want to see him, you can't rely on appearances. Then you can see him. Han-shan is a Manjusri (one who has attained enlightenment and, in a future incarnation, will become Buddha) hiding at Kuo-sh'ing. Shih-te is a Samantabbhadra (Bodhisattva of love). They look like poor fellows and act like madmen. Sometimes they go and sometimes they come. They work in the kitchen of the Kuo-ch'ing dining hall, tending the fire." When he was done talking he left.

I proceeded on my journey to my job at T'ai-chou, not forgetting this affair. I arrived three days later, immediately went to a temple, and questioned an old monk. It seemed the Master had been truthful, so I gave orders to see if T'ang-hsing really contained a Han-shan and Shih-te. The District Magistrate reported to me: "In this district, seventy li west, is a mountain. People used to see a poor man heading from the cliffs to stay awhile at Kuo-ch'ing. At the temple dining hall is a similar man named Shih-te."

I made a bow, and went to Kuo-ch'ing. I asked some people around the temple, "There used to be a Master named Feng-kan here, Where is his place? And where can Han-shan and Shih-te be seen?" A monk named T'ao-ch'iao spoke up: "Feng-kan the Master lived in back of the library. Nowadays nobody lives there; a tiger often comes and roars. Han-shan and Shih-te are in the kitchen."

The monk led me to Feng-kan's yard. Then he opened the gate: all we saw was tiger tracks. I asked the monks Tao-ch'iao and Pao-te, "When Feng-kan was here, what was his job?" The monks said, “He pounded and hulled rice. At night he sang songs to amuse himself.” Then we went to the kitchen, before the stoves. Two men were facing the fire, laughing loudly. I made a bow. The two shouted Ho! at me. They struck their hands together -Ha Ha! - great laughter. They shouted.

Then they said, "Feng-kan - loose-tongued, loose-tongued. You don't recognize Amitabha, (the Bodhisattva of mercy) why be courteous to us?" The monks gathered round, surprise going through them. ""Why has a big official bowed to a pair of clowns?" The two men grabbed hands and ran out of the temple. I cried, "Catch them" - but they quickly ran away. Han-shan returned to Cold Mountain. I asked the monks, "Would those two men be willing to settle down at this temple?" I ordered them to find a house, and to ask Han-shan and Shih-te to return and live at the temple.

I returned to my district and had two sets of clean clothes made, got some incense and such, and sent it to the temple - but the two men didn't return. So I had it carried up to Cold Mountain. The packer saw Han-shan, who called in a loud voice, "Thief! Thief!" and retreated into a mountain cave. He shouted, "I tell you man, strive hard" - entered the cave and was gone. The cave closed of itself and they weren't able to follow. Shih-te's tracks disappeared completely.

~ Lu Ch'iu-yin, Governor of T'ai Prefecture, trans. Gary Snyder

We practitioners ought to relinquish our attachments all the time so that we would be free of secular concerns towards the end of our lives. If you continue to indulge yourself, there is the grave danger that you may go astray at this crucial moment of rebirth. Therefore, try to maintain the serenity of your mind while discarding all distinctions of good and bad. You will then attain the state of "mindlessness." This, however, does not mean that you have become indifferent; rather, it means that you have let go of your sense of discrimination. The attainment of such a state will then be a clear indication of your genuine prowess in practice.

~ Analects of Master Kuang-ch'in

As ordinary beings with far too many wanderings thoughts, discriminations, and attachments, we view everything dualistically. We do not view all phenomena as one. When our true wisdom manifests, we will know that all phenomena are one, not two.

Take the lid of a mug for example. It is concave on one side but it is convex on the other side. If people do not understand this truth, then two people standing on different sides of the lid will quarrel over whether the lid is concave or convex. This is because they look at the lid from different sides. When they see both sides of the lid, they will realize that concave is no different from convex. They are one, not two.

Bodhisattvas see both sides and are not attached to what they see. We see only one side, so we are attached to what we see. Eventually, when we see both sides, our wisdom will be perfect.

Buddhism teaches us to see every aspect of the Dharma Realms, space, worlds, all beings, all the mundane things that cloud our true nature. When we reach this state, everything will be harmonious.

~ Based on Ven. Master Chin Kung's 2003 lecture series on the Amitabha Sutra

In the Essentials, Master Ouyi’s commentary on the Amitabha Sutra, we read, “One does not give rise to attachments or wandering thoughts in various states of meditative concentration.”

We need to understand this statement to be able to progress toward our goal of enlightenment. One experiences joy when in meditative concentration, as the saying goes, “feeding on the joy one experiences in meditation.” Those who achieve meditative concentration often cannot advance to the next level because they are attached to the state of meditative concentration they are in.

Those who achieve the four dhyanas and the eight concentrations cannot transcend the Six Paths because they are attached to the state of meditative concentration they are in and will not let go of it. Attachment leads to greed, which is still a wandering thought.

This is to remind us to exercise wisdom. We can enjoy the state of meditative concentration but should not be attached to it. If we can achieve this non-attachment, there will be no adverse effects.

It is the same with our present situation. We can enjoy whatever we are experiencing but we should not attach to it. If discriminations and attachments arise in us, then we are wrong and will have trouble.

~ Based on Ven. Master Chin Kung's 2003 lecture series on the Amitabha Sutra