Essence of the Shurangama Sutra: Key to Enlightenment, Guide to Practice

A Practice Nearly Destroyed

The story of the Shurangama Sutra begins with a disaster that almost happened.

Ananda was the Buddha's cousin and attendant, following the Buddha for twenty-five years. He was known as "First in Hearing"—he remembered every word the Buddha spoke clearly. At the beginning of many sutras, the phrase "Thus have I heard" appears; that "I" refers to Ananda. It can be said that without Ananda's memory, there would be no Buddhist scriptures today.

However, such a great disciple was nearly ruined by a woman.

One day, the Sangha was invited to a meal at an elder's house. Ananda, having other business, did not go along and went begging alone in the city. Walking through an alley, he met Matangi's daughter. This woman was of the Shudra caste (the lowest caste in India), and according to social norms of the time, she was not even worthy to look at a person of high caste. But she fell in love with Ananda at first sight.

She went home and begged her mother for help. Her mother was a great illusionist of the Brahmin caste and mastered a spell called the "Former Brahma Heaven Mantra." This spell was very powerful. When used on Ananda, he became like a puppet on a string, involuntarily walking into Matangi's daughter's room, on the verge of breaking his precepts.

At that critical moment, the Buddha, knowing of this event in samadhi, immediately sent Manjushri Bodhisattva to recite the Shurangama Mantra to save him. The power of the mantra broke the illusion, and Ananda regained his clarity, returning to the Buddha with Matangi's daughter.

Ananda knelt before the Buddha, weeping bitterly. He said something very important, which can be considered the origin of the entire Shurangama Sutra:

"I have always relied on my vast learning, thinking that learning was practice. I did not expect that when faced with a situation, I would be completely unable to resist. Please, Buddha, teach me: What method do the Tathagatas of the ten directions use to achieve the Way? What is the key to true practice?"

This question was asked with great pain. Ananda had followed the Buddha for twenty-five years and heard countless teachings. He thought he had significant practice. But when he encountered a real situation, he realized he was nothing. what is the use of hearing so much? When things happen, one is still turned by them.

The Buddha's subsequent teaching is the content of the Shurangama Sutra. What this sutra aims to solve is precisely Ananda's confusion: Why do we, after studying Buddhism for many years, still get turned by situations? What exactly is the practice that allows one to be "unmoved by circumstances"?

Where is the Mind?

The Buddha did not answer Ananda's question directly but first asked him a seemingly simple question.

"Ananda, why did you leave home in the first place?"

"I saw the Buddha's thirty-two marks, supreme and dignified, and my heart gave rise to joy, so I left home."

"What did you use to see the Tathagata's thirty-two marks?"

"I saw with my eyes."

"What made your heart give rise to joy?"

"It was the mind."

"Good, then I ask you: This mind that can see and give rise to joy, where exactly is it?"

Ananda was stunned. Where is the mind? He had never thought about this question. He thought for a moment and replied, "The mind should be inside the body."

The Buddha shook his head. "If the mind is inside the body, then you should see your internal organs first before seeing things outside. But in fact, you have never seen your heart, liver, spleen, lungs, or kidneys; you see the mountains and rivers outside first. Therefore, the mind is not inside the body."

Ananda thought and said, "Then is the mind outside the body?"

The Buddha shook his head again. "If the mind is outside the body, then the mind and the body would have no relationship. But in fact, your mind can know the body's cold, heat, pain, and itch, which shows that the mind and body are related. Therefore, the mind is not outside the body either."

Ananda continued to guess: "Is the mind hidden in the eye organ?" "Does the mind arise with the object?" "Is the mind in the middle of the organ and the object?" "Is non-attachment the mind?"

Every answer was refuted by the Buddha one by one. Ananda proposed seven answers, and all were wrong.

This passage is called the "Seven Places of Asking about the Mind" and is one of the most famous sections of the Shurangama Sutra. Its importance lies in this: it makes us realize that we actually don't know where our mind is.

This sounds absurd. Isn't the mind "me"? Isn't "I" right here? But if you look carefully, you will find that you cannot find a fixed place to say "this is the mind." The mind is not inside, not outside, not in the middle, not anywhere. It rises and falls with circumstances, without a fixed entity.

What the Buddha wanted Ananda to understand is: This mind that you have always thought of as "me" is actually the deluded mind, the discriminating mind that clings to external objects. It is not the True Mind. Precisely because you mistake the false for the true and take this deluded mind as yourself, you are turned by situations. The deluded mind moves with circumstances by nature; how could it not be turned by them?

That Which Does Not Change

After breaking the attachment to the deluded mind, the Buddha began to reveal the True Mind.

What is the True Mind? The Buddha explained it starting from the "Nature of Seeing." He raised his hand and asked Ananda, "Do you see my hand?" Ananda said, "I see it." The Buddha said, "What do you use to see?" Ananda said, "With my eyes." The Buddha said, "Wrong. The eyes are just tools; what truly 'sees' is your Nature of Seeing."

Next, the Buddha explained the characteristics of this Nature of Seeing from ten different angles. This passage is called the "Ten Demonstrations of Seeing."

First, the Nature of Seeing is the mind, not the eye. If the eyes are broken, one cannot see, but the Nature of Seeing does not break. A blind person's eyes are broken, but his Nature of Seeing is still there; he just lacks the tool to use it.

Second, the Nature of Seeing does not move. The Buddha asked Ananda to shake his head and asked, "When your head shakes, does your Nature of Seeing shake?" Ananda observed carefully and found that although the head was moving, the nature that "can see" did not move with it. Objects move and are still, but the Nature of Seeing is always motionless.

Third, the Nature of Seeing does not perish. The Buddha asked Ananda, "What is the difference between looking at the Ganges River when you were a child and looking at it now?" Ananda said, "My appearance has aged, but the function of seeing has not changed." The Buddha said, "Correct. What changes is the body; what does not change is the Nature of Seeing. The body has birth and death; the Nature of Seeing has no birth and death."

This remark touched me deeply. We always think "I" am this body; when the body ages, I age; when the body dies, I die. But if we observe carefully, has that thing which "can see" ever changed from childhood to adulthood? The sky seen at age three was blue, the sky seen at age thirty is still blue, and the sky seen at age eighty is still blue. What changes is the organ of the eye, the vessel of the body, but the "seeing" itself—that which clearly knows "I am looking"—has it ever changed?

The Buddha continued to reveal: The Nature of Seeing does not increase or decrease because of different objects seen (it does not increase when seeing brightness nor decrease when seeing darkness); the Nature of Seeing does not come from outside, it is inherent; the Nature of Seeing is not mixed with the objects seen; the Nature of Seeing pervades everywhere without obstruction; the Nature of Seeing has no discrimination, discrimination is the business of the deluded mind; the Nature of Seeing transcends all dualities; the Nature of Seeing is not an object that can be seen, it is the "Seer" itself.

Through these ten demonstrations, the Buddha wanted Ananda to realize: We inherently possess a Nature of Seeing that is unborn and undying, unmoving and unshaking, neither increasing nor decreasing, and pervading everywhere. This Nature of Seeing is the subtle function of the True Mind. It is not gained through practice; it is inherently complete. It is not outside; it is present right now.

The goal of practice is not to obtain something new, but to recognize this thing that is already there. Just as the sky is originally clear, when clouds come, the sky is still that sky, only obscured by clouds. What we need to do is not to create a new clear sky, but to let the clouds disperse, allowing the original clear sky to manifest.

Twenty-Five Paths

The theory was explained; next came the actual practice.

The Buddha asked twenty-five sages who had already attained fruition to describe their methods and processes of practice. These twenty-five sages had different starting points: some started from sound, some from color, some from smell, some from mindfulness of the Buddha, some from observing fire, some from observing emptiness... The entry points were all different, but they all reached the same goal—attaining "Perfect Penetration" (Yuantong), which is the state of thorough understanding, recognizing the True Mind, and perfect unimpededness.

These twenty-five methods are called the "Twenty-five Methods of Perfect Penetration." Its significance lies in telling us: The gates of practice are diverse; all roads lead to Rome. It is not that only one method is correct; every method can lead to the same goal. The key is to find the one that suits you.

Among the twenty-five penetrations, the Buddha specially asked Manjushri Bodhisattva to judge and select the method most suitable for beings in the Saha World. Manjushri Bodhisattva chose Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva's "Perfect Penetration of the Ear Organ."

How did Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva practice? He said: "First, in the hearing, enter the stream and forget the object." In the beginning, start from hearing, but do not listen to sounds outwardly; instead, turn inward to observe the self-nature that can hear. "Entering the stream" means turning the light inward; "forgetting the object" means not clinging to the sounds heard. Deepening this slowly, transcending the duality of motion and stillness, transcending the duality of the hearer and the heard, finally even the mark of "emptiness" is transcended, and Perfect Penetration is attained.

Why is the Ear Organ Penetration particularly suitable for beings in the Saha World? Manjushri explained: First, the ear organ is the most perfect; it can hear sounds from the ten directions simultaneously, unlike the eyes which can only see in front. Second, the ear organ is always open; the eyes close when sleeping, but the ears still hear. Third, sound easily enters the heart, making it easier to gather the mind into samadhi.

Another particularly noteworthy one is Mahasthamaprapta Bodhisattva's "Perfect Penetration of Mindfulness of the Buddha." Mahasthamaprapta Bodhisattva said: "I originally, in the causal ground, entered the patience of the uncreate with the mind of mindfulness of the Buddha... gathering all six organs, with pure mindfulness in continuous succession, obtaining Samadhi; this is the foremost." This passage is one of the most important scriptural bases for the Pure Land school's Buddha-recitation method. "Gathering all six organs" means bringing the six senses back and not letting them scatter outwardly; "pure mindfulness in continuous succession" means thoughts are pure and continuous without interruption. Reciting the Buddha's name in this way can also lead to Perfect Penetration.

The Twenty-five Perfect Penetrations tell us that there is no standard answer for practice. Some are suited for Zen meditation, some for Buddha recitation, some for mantra chanting, some for visualization. There is no need to envy others' methods, nor to force yourself to practice a method that doesn't suit you. Find your own path, go deep into one door, and you will naturally achieve success.

Fifty Ways to Go Astray

The last part of the Shurangama Sutra is the most unique and perhaps the most practical content of the entire sutra: the Fifty Skandha-Maras.

Practice is not smooth sailing. As one's skill deepens, various states will appear. Some states are signs of progress, while others are demonic states. If one cannot distinguish them, it is easy to go astray. The Buddha categorized the demonic states that might be encountered during practice into fifty types, corresponding to the breakthrough process of the five skandhas: form, feeling, thinking, formation, and consciousness.

The Ten Maras of the Form Skandha relate to the body and matter. For example, the body emitting light during meditation, or seeing Buddhas and Bodhisattvas appear, or feeling the body levitate. If one clings to these states, thinking one has achieved something, one will become possessed by demons.

The Ten Maras of the Feeling Skandha relate to sensations. For example, sudden extreme sadness during practice, or excessive joy, or feeling that one is already perfect and needs no further practice.

The Ten Maras of the Thinking Skandha relate to thoughts and concepts. For example, falling into the view of emptiness (thinking everything is empty and cause and effect do not exist), or falling into the view of existence (clinging to a certain state as real), or clinging to various supernatural powers and responses.

The Ten Maras of the Formation Skandha relate to mental formations and will. For example, calculating cause and effect wrongly (deviating in understanding karma), or denying cause and effect, or clinging to naturalism (thinking everything happens naturally without the need for practice).

The Ten Maras of the Consciousness Skandha relate to consciousness. For example, thinking the consciousness skandha is Nirvana, or clinging to a certain state of "true permanence."

The Buddha said a very important sentence: "If you do not think you have become a sage, it is a good state; if you think you have attained sagehood, you will be subject to deviant influences."

No matter what state appears, do not think you have become a sage. Even if it is truly a good state, as soon as the thought "I have achieved" arises, you will immediately be possessed. Practitioners must remain humble and not cling to any state. When good states come, do not cling; when bad states come, do not cling. Just continue to work hard, and the state will naturally pass.

The Fifty Skandha-Maras have particular realistic significance today. Various new spiritual courses and practice groups are emerging one after another, many claiming "quick enlightenment" or "immediate realization of nature." Some students experience various "magical experiences" in courses and think they are enlightened, but they may actually have fallen into some demonic state. The Fifty Skandha-Maras of the Shurangama Sutra are like a detailed "anti-fraud guide," helping us identify what is true progress and what are traps in practice.

Mad Mind Stops

After reading the Shurangama Sutra, the eight words that impressed me most were: "Mad mind stops, stopping is Bodhi" (狂心顿歇，歇即菩提).

What is the mad mind? It is our heart that is forever restless, forever chasing outwards. Chasing wealth, chasing fame, chasing affection, chasing enjoyment, chasing knowledge, chasing states... chasing one after another, never ending. This heart is like a wild horse running madly, never willing to stop.

This mad mind is our deluded mind. It is not the True Mind, but we take it as ourselves. We think "I" am these thoughts, these desires, these pursuits. We are led by it, rotating in the six realms, unable to extricate ourselves.

The Shurangama Sutra tells us: This mad mind is not the real you. The real you is that unborn, undying, unmoving Nature of Seeing, the True Mind. It has always been there, just covered by the mad mind.

If the mad mind can "stop instantly"—suddenly stop, no longer chasing—that moment is Bodhi (Enlightenment). Bodhi is not elsewhere; it is right in the moment when the mad mind stops. No need to search, no need to seek; just stop, and it naturally manifests.

This sounds simple, but it is hard to do. Because our habits are too heavy, and the mad mind has been running for too long; how can it be so easy to stop it? So we need practice, we need various methods to help us. But no matter what method is used, the ultimate goal is the same: to let the mad mind rest.

The ancients said: "Since reading the Shurangama, I no longer read the dregs of worldly books." The Shurangama Sutra explains the principles of practice so thoroughly, distinguishes the True Mind and deluded mind so clearly, and lists the traps of practice so exhaustively. Once this sutra is understood, one has a grasp of the root of Buddhism.

In this era where deviant theories run rampant and the True Dharma is hard to hear, the Shurangama Sutra is like a bright lamp, helping us see through various delusions and walk on the true path of practice.

May we all recognize our True Mind, let the mad mind rest, and let Bodhi manifest.