In reflecting upon my teachings during meditation retreats and regular instructions on sitting meditation, I have often discussed practical methods for integrating practice into daily life. Through understanding the principles of śamatha (calm abiding) and vipaśyanā (insight), I have come to realize that these methods align with the preliminary skillful means of Chinese Chan.
Gradually, I have sought to synthesize and organize these approaches, hoping to present a more complete system of instruction within the Chinese Chan tradition. Though many of these methods were not personally realized through my own practice, I have comprehended them through contemplation and integration.
I have observed that even when returning to the meditation hall of a monastery for intensive retreats or seasonal practice, if these preparatory methods are neglected, one’s efforts in the hall remain ineffective. This is because genuine practice must become continuous, unifying body and mind, inner and outer. Apart from diligent sitting meditation in the hall, one must also apply mindful effort in the dynamic activities of daily life. Only then can stillness and movement merge into a seamless whole. Otherwise, seated meditation remains isolated from the scatteredness of ordinary life, and no matter how intense the effort, it will lack true efficacy.
In the past, Chan monastics achieved mastery by unifying the practices of stillness and activity. Though monastic life required labor and communal work—emphasizing dynamic practice—their daily routines were simple, allowing their minds to remain undivided even amid activity. This, combined with sustained cultivation in stillness, enabled the two aspects to merge effortlessly, resulting in a seamless continuity of practice where movement and stillness became one, allowing free and unimpeded engagement with all circumstances.
Such favorable conditions are rare in modern life, yet the underlying principle remains unchanged. If practitioners focus solely on stillness without extending their practice into dynamic activity—or if they rigidly separate seated meditation as "practice" and daily life as "worldly karma," severing the two—then their cultivation will remain fragmented, leading nowhere.
Thus, the preliminary methods of Chinese Chan still emphasize śamatha as the foundation. From the unification of concentration and awareness in stillness—where body and mind merge into śamatha or samādhi—to the unification of awareness and focus in activity, where one continuously illuminates the present moment, all constitute the cultivation and fulfillment of śamatha. Even the completion of this practice—whether as śamatha or as luminous presence—remains grounded in the power of samādhi.
Those who attain this level of śamatha may enter deep meditative absorption. Yet in activity, though body and mind, inner and outer, are unified in clear awareness of the present, this is still not awakening or the shattering of self. Nevertheless, their self-mastery and clarity of present-moment awareness bring about mental and physical lightness, along with lucid understanding. With consistent practice, this state can be stabilized.
For most Chan practitioners, even reaching this stage is difficult, as their effort often only applies during seated meditation and dissipates afterward. Others may maintain awareness in activity but neglect concentrated stillness, mistakenly believing that mere awareness constitutes wisdom or awakening.
Stagnating at this level falls short of even the complete practice of śamatha. Some may gain proficiency in both stillness and activity, even attaining a state of bodily and mental unity, yet they mistake this for awakening or dwell in this unified state. Because their physical and mental movements are synchronized, their responsiveness to external stimuli becomes sharp—sometimes reacting instantaneously. Thus, they may swiftly answer a teacher’s questions or gestures, or even seem to resolve certain kōans, leading to a sense of awakening or selflessness.
In truth, this is still not genuine realization. One must advance further—entering the stage of vipaśyanā practice.
Awakening in the Buddhist path entails realizing selflessness (anātman) and essencelessness (niḥsvabhāva). The conceptual understanding of these truths must first be established through study and reflection, forming an unshakable conviction before one can cultivate wisdom accordingly. The development of wisdom within śamatha is vipaśyanā, and through this insight, direct realization arises.
Chinese Chan, however, takes a unique approach here. Unlike traditional Buddhist systems of vipaśyanā, it embeds faith deep within the mind, using huatou (critical phrase) or kōan methods to evoke the "doubt sensation" (yiqing). This doubt blocks the diverging and leaking tendencies of the conceptual mind, gradually consolidating into an intense mass of uncertainty. When this doubt reaches its peak, it erupts like an explosion, shattering all dualistic boundaries. Inner and outer, body and mind, dissolve into seamless flow; subject and object vanish without distinction, and selflessness is directly realized—this is awakening.
This exemplifies the distinctive character of Chinese Chan. Recognizing the importance and necessity of these preparatory methods, practitioners should arouse a sublime resolve and proceed step by step. Only then is their motivation correct.