Earlier I explained the verse that went:

If one can sit perfectly still for even a split second,
One's merit surpasses that of building pagodas of
the seven gems in number like the Ganges' sands.

If you're sitting in the Chan hall and you keep having idle thoughts such as, "I'm sitting still for a single second and gaining merit and virtue that surpasses that of building pagodas of the seven jewels," you haven't actually sat still for even one second, and you haven't the least bit of merit and virtue. Why not? It's just like when someone points at the moon and you mistake his finger for the moon. You only see his hand, but you never see the moon. And yet you claim to have measureless merit and virtue! Measureless? Hah! You're just sitting there having measureless thoughts!

You also say, "I can emit light from my hair-mark that radiates throughout the entire cosmos! Hey! I can emit hair-mark light throughout the entire universe." But this state isn't something that you can think about, or talk about either. You must actually practice it. If you can be pure and truly enter into samadhi, only then can you release light from your hair-mark that radiates throughout the cosmos. If you can't enter into samadhi, and all you do is entertain these ridiculous thoughts that fly in all directions, then it's totally useless. No matter how much you think back and forth, it's all idle thinking, and it's a million miles away from reality.

Someone else is thinking, "Well, how can I actually enter samadhi? How can I get enlightened?" If you're having idle thoughts like these, then there's no way for you to enter samadhi or get enlighten-ed. Why not? It's because you're working only on the surface of things. You're not using Prajna-wisdom. You're always seeking outside. Since you don't know how to seek within yourself, you'll never find what you are looking for.

All of you should be electrotherapists and help out this world. You should save living beings who are here in this polluted atmosphere so that they can become Buddhas in a pure atmosphere. Now when you meditate, please don't have so many idle thoughts. I hope you all understand this point. I've now told you this method of purifying the air using electrotherapy, and you might want to try it out to see what the result is.

Today is the second day of the Chan session. Have any of you set foot on the right road? Are you on the road of proper enlightenment, the Bodhi path? As you contemplate the question, "Who is mindful of the Buddha?" do you actually bring it to mind? Have you put down your idle thoughts or not? If you haven't raised the question, "Who is mindful of the Buddha?" then you should do so in a hurry. It's just like a cat stalking a mouse. He gathers all his attention and focuses his energy as he waits for the mouse to appear. It's also like a mother hen sitting on her nest. She concentrates her thoughts on the little chicks about to hatch. It's also like a dragon guarding his precious pearl. He carefully concentrates on protecting it. If you can concentrate on your meditation in thought after thought, only then can you hope to have any success.

We're maintaining the practice of eating one meal a day at noon and also the practice of not lying down at night to sleep. I believe no one else in the world undertakes these ascetic practices as we do, especially during a Chan session in which we sit for twelve hours each day and walk for six hours. This difficult regimen requires a lot of fuel. That's why, in the Chan sessions of the past, every participant would receive two big steamed dumplings to eat in the evening, and everybody was just delighted. We here don't have this policy, so when you eat your daily meal at noon, be sure to eat a little more. I'm encouraging you to eat a little fuller than usual so you'll have enough strength to walk or run in meditation.

The precepts of Buddhism specify that one should eat a single meal at midday. After the Buddha's time, this practice was changed to not eating past noon. That is to say, one may not eat anything after midday. But one is allowed to eat porridge, oatmeal, or cereal in the morning. Since one is eating before noon, one is not breaking the precepts.

During our Chan session, if you don't eat your fill, then as you run, walk, or sit, you won't have enough energy and you'll decide to retreat. Where will the retreating begin? When evening comes, you'll hear griping in your belly. Your belly will criticize you, "You're too selfish! The only thing you think about is cultivating the Path. All you worry about is getting enlightened. You aren't the slightest bit concerned for your belly, and you're making it suffer. What kind of Path are you cultivating? You don't have any kindness and compassion." Then your belly won't cooperate with you at all, and you could very well have the thought of retreating. You won't want to cultivate any more. All of the work that you've done will be lost. So during our Chan session, it's important that you eat your fill. Only then will you have enough energy to seek wisdom and liberation.

Today I will tell you a story regarding "eating steamed dumplings during a Chan session." This is a true story. It's not fictitious. At Tiantong (Heavenly Youth) Monastery in Ningbo, China, the Abbot was Chan Master Miyun (Full Cloud). He was a good and wise advisor who had his spiritual eyes open. The Ceremony Master at that temple was also a good and wise advisor who had use of his eyes. However, this Ceremony Master was a little bit too kind and compassionate, and the Abbot was a bit deficient in kindness and compassion. The Abbot held a policy of "Mahasattvas should not pay any attention to anybody else." And the Ceremony Master maintained the policy that a Bodhisattva should make it his business to watch over others. Because the thinking of these two individuals differed, their methods came into conflict.

During their Chan session, everybody was vigorously meditating, seeking wisdom and liberation. The compassionate Ceremony Master noticed one evening that they were all experiencing hunger pangs. Because they hadn't eaten, they didn't have enough energy to sit. Some were dozing off while others were restless. If they weren't sleeping, then they were "sitting short." When a person sits to meditate, he's about three feet tall, yet now they were only one and a half feet tall. Why is that? Because their bellies were hungry and they lacked the strength to sit up straight. This is called "sitting short." Once this phenomenon began, there was no way to continue their meditation. The Ceremony Master saw this taking place and sympathized with them. He wanted to nurture the health of the assembly. So within samadhi, he used his psychic powers to steal some rice crust from the kitchen and give a little bit to each person. As soon as the meditation period was over, everyone opened their eyes and saw a chunk of rice crust on their knee. Stealthily they gobbled it down. There is a phrase that goes, "People are iron, and food is steel." Immediately the group felt their energy returning and they were able to run and meditate without feeling tired. Before, when they were hungry, they had been unable to run a single step, and they were always trying to catch a rest on the side.

The compassionate Ceremony Master stole rice crust for two days in a row, and he distributed it among the participants as a snack. Unexpectedly, on the third day, the Abbot of the temple discovered that he'd been stealing rice crust and threw him out of the temple.

Here's how it happened. On the morning of the third day, the monk in charge of the kitchen noticed that the rice crust from the day before was gone. He thought that perhaps a rat had stolen it. To carry out his duty, he went to report to the Abbot of the temple and ask his advice. The Abbot said, "Okay, catch the rat!" When evening came, the Abbot contemplated in samadhi and saw how the Ceremony Master was going to the kitchen in his samadhi to steal the rice crust. He grabbed the Master's body as it sat there meditating, and stuffed it underneath the bench. When the Ceremony Master came back from roaming in samadhi, he could not find his "house." He carefully looked around for his body and finally found it underneath the bench, and he pulled it back out. Just then the Abbot said, "What do you think you're doing? You're a big rat! You had the gall to go into the kitchen to steal rice crust? You've broken the precepts, did you know that? Anybody who breaks a precept must be thrown out! You must leave tomorrow. You can't stay here any longer!"

The Ceremony Master had now been kicked out, and he said: "If you want to throw me out, that's okay. But I have one request that I hope you'll grant." The Abbot said, "Now that you're leaving, what do you still want to request?"

The Ceremony Master said, "The people who are meditating here really should get a chance to eat their fill. Only then can they work hard at their meditation. If they don't eat their fill, they won't be able to cultivate. That's why I went to the kitchen to steal the rice crust. It was for the sake of the Assembly, not for myself. I hope that you, the Abbot, will be compassionate, and give two big steamed dumplings to each participant every evening. If you do that, then I'll bow in respect to you as Abbot; and after I go, I won't have to worry about it any further."