Being

In your moment of being in the dust of trivial matters, your mind veiled and sealed by them

Scripture

Pearls and jade lie under dust; the ancient mirror is sealed with grime.

Being is dimmed and veiled; the divine light is rusting.

The heart is dyed with worldly dust; the spirit accumulates the world’s leaks.

Wipe and it will not leave; wash and it is as before.

Not that the pearl no longer shines—the dust is simply too thick.

Amid grime and stain, the original light is behind.

Wenzi · On Being

You sit at the desk, wanting to think about something important. But your eyes land on the water-ring of the teacup, the scattered pages, the icons flickering on the screen, the noisy traffic outside the window. In your mind turn the unreplied messages, the unpaid bills, the appointment approaching. Layer after layer of invisible dust settles over your consciousness. Thought turns sticky, inspiration dims—like a rusted gear, creaking, unable to turn.

“Pearls and jade lie under dust; the ancient mirror is sealed with grime.”

The scripture mirrors your state:

The mind, originally pearl and jade, is covered with worldly dust (pearls and jade lie under dust). The mirror of awareness, which should be clear, is sealed under accumulated grime (the ancient mirror is sealed with grime). You feel yourself in a kind of “veiling” (being is dimmed and veiled), and the light of your inner spirit seems to have rusted (the divine light is rusting).

“The heart is dyed with worldly dust; the spirit accumulates the world’s leaks.” You feel the heart stained by worldly dust (the heart is dyed with worldly dust), and the spirit like a leaky vessel, accumulating the dissipation of the world (the spirit accumulates the world’s leaks). You try to clean it as one wipes an object (wipe and it will not leave), or to wash it with fierce self-examination (wash and it is as before)—but the dust seems only thicker, the weariness heavier.

Stop. Lay down every effort of “wiping.” Admit this “dust-dimmed” state. Admit it thoroughly. Then make a seemingly useless movement: stretch out a finger and, on the desk-top covered with thin dust, slowly write one word. Or simply watch the dust dance its trajectories in the sunlight. “Not that the pearl no longer shines—the dust is simply too thick.” The scripture reveals the key: it is not that the pearl itself has stopped shining (not that the pearl no longer shines)—the dust has simply grown too thick (the dust is simply too thick). The problem is not in your substance, but in that “dust-layer” covering it, made of countless trivialities. Your sense of powerlessness comes from trying to polish the “pearl” directly, while wrestling endless “dust.”

Then what to do?

Stop fighting the dust.

Now, make a sharp turn. Ask directly: that “knowing” which knows its thoughts are sticky and its light dim at this moment—is that “knowing” itself sticky, dim? Go and realize it directly.

Move your attention from the fact that “the dust is thick,” to that space “beneath the dust.”

Close your eyes. In the inner darkness, imagine that pearl wrapped in thick dust. Do not try to blow the dust away—only feel: at the very core of the dust, does that pearl still keep its complete, round, cool substance?

Does that knowing of “I am dust-dimmed” itself remain untouched by any dust?

“Amid grime and stain, the original light is behind.” Yes—you are amid grime and stain (amid grime and stain). But that light of the substance which can see the “grime and stain” (the original light) has always been “behind” all of it, abiding, thus. Dust can cover the mirror, but cannot change the mirror’s nature of being able to reflect.

What you need to do is not to clean the mirror, but to recognize that you are the mirror—and the dust is only a passing image on its face.

And so the noise outside continues, the trivialities remain. But you know: they are all dust on the mirror’s face. You no longer try to brush away every grain of dust; you only deeply know: you are that ancient mirror, reflecting the dust yet unmoved by it. And the mirror’s original light is quietly shining through every gap in the dust—reflecting this complete, clamorous silence of ten thousand dusts dancing.

Being-Dimness: you are not the dust-dimmed pearl—you are that clarity itself which reflects the ten thousand dusts.