Being

In your moment of decisive action, swinging the sword to cut every entanglement

Scripture

The light of wisdom leaves its sheath; a tangled hemp of a thousand coils.

Being is severing, is releasing; one stroke, two laws.

The threads break without a sound; cause and effect settle themselves.

Old thoughts turn to ash; a new edge is being received.

The blade returns, hidden in its sheath; silence without shore.

Being is broken, is continued; heaven’s moment in one flash.

Wenzi · On Being

Before you is a tangled hemp. Not a metaphor—real as tangled hemp are the relations, promises, obsessions, and unresolved matters winding around your body and mind. They are knotted into a thousand dead knots (a tangled hemp of a thousand coils), suffocating you. At some moment, a line of “wisdom-light” bursts forth in your heart without the slightest warning—cold, sharp, without a trace of hesitation (the light of wisdom leaves its sheath). This light itself is the sword.

“Being is severing, is releasing; one stroke, two laws.” You “swing” it down (being is severing), and the movement is at once “releasing” (is releasing). This one stroke cuts the tangled hemp—and establishes a new “law”: a law of simplicity, clarity, severance (one stroke, two laws). When the threads break, there is no sound (the threads break without a sound), because all cause and effect have completed their instant “self-settling” in this one stroke (cause and effect settle themselves).

Do not hesitate, do not weigh gain and loss.

When that line of wisdom-light appears, it has already chosen for you.

In the gap between the surging of the wisdom-light and the falling of your arm, there exists an absolutely clear stillness. Realize that gap.

All you need do is trust this light, and let your arm become the path of its falling. Cut. “Old thoughts turn to ash; a new edge is being received.” The old thoughts, entanglements, and stories, where the blade passes, turn to cold ash (old thoughts turn to ash). And the emptiness after the stroke is “receiving” a new, sharper clarity (a new edge is being received). This emptiness is not loss—it is preparation.

The sword has returned to its sheath; the silence is without shore (the blade returns, hidden in its sheath; silence without shore). The world seems to pause for one flash. In this flash, what was severed and what continues have gained a new balance (being is broken, is continued).

This is not a choice—it is the spontaneous manifestation of “heaven’s moment” (heaven’s moment in one flash). The hemp-lines lie scattered on the ground, no longer a form of bondage. You stand in the clean blank, breathing freely. What that stroke cut was not an outer thing—it was the hook inside you that permitted entanglement to exist. You are not a cold severer—you are that clear, crisp sky left between the myriad things after the world is swept clear. Being-Severance: you are not the one breaking away—you are that precise lightning which must strike, so that heaven and earth may be swept clear.