Contributed by the Buddhas’ Practice Incorporated, Australia
Mentor: Bennie Spirit
Editor: Yinyue(Ivy)
With gratitude to Google AI Gemini
With gratitude to NotebookLM
Draft Date: Aug 5, 2026
Location: BPI Meditation Center
Attendees at the Dharma assembly: Bennie, Ivy, Ellie, Grace, Enid, Dawn, Wujing, Aima
I. What is Buddhanusmṛti (Mindfulness of the Buddha)?
To understand mindfulness (smṛti / 念), one only needs to examine the structure of the Chinese character 念 (Niàn). It is composed of 今 (“the present/now”) and 心 (“the mind”). In other words, wherever your mind resides in the present moment—that is precisely what you are mindful of.
Buddhanusmṛti (念佛, Mindfulness of the Buddha) means that your present mind is mindful of the Buddha’s merit and virtue (guṇa), the Buddha’s power, the Buddha’s vows (praṇidhāna), and all aspects of the Buddha, striving to accord and align with the Buddha in complete resonance.
When we observe closely, we can realize the following truth:
Not only do you currently lack the capacity to practice mindfulness of the Buddha, but across countless kalpas, life after life, you have never learned it, never trained in it, and did not even know how supreme mindfulness of the Buddha is—nor how unfortunate one is without it.
Even if you see others reciting the Buddha’s name and follow along for three or five recitations, a thought immediately arises: “Why recite this? It cannot be eaten, drunk, or used for entertainment, so why recite it?” During mindfulness of the Buddha, random thoughts continuously drift through your head. You cannot control your mind at all; your entire body and mind are in a state of chaos and distraction. If you seek to accord with the Buddha’s power in such a state, it is as impossible as trying to inflate a fishing net into a balloon.
What should be done about such distraction? You must first rectify your mental state before reciting; only then can actual results be achieved. If you are like a broken net, full of holes—engaging in random thoughts (vikalpa), reckless speech, and unwholesome actions—you are in a state of “leaking” (sāsrava). If you do not change, if you do not transform the fabric of the net into the fabric of a balloon, you will never be able to fill it. The fabric of a balloon represents “leaklessness” (anāsrava). Having “leaks” means having affliction and defilement (kleśa). Just like a net with holes everywhere—where the holes are larger than the mesh lines—it can never be filled. That is why many people practice mindfulness of the Buddha yet never accomplish Buddhahood. Why? Because everything leaks away.
Consider what is stated in the Chapter on Mahāsthāmaprāpta Bodhisattva’s Perfect Penetration through Buddhanusmṛti (大勢至菩薩念佛圓通章): Is your current, present mind mindful of the Buddha? If it is, then you are practicing mindfulness of the Buddha. If it remains so continuously, that is true Buddhanusmṛti. If your mind harbors thoughts of eating, drinking, and entertainment while your mouth recites the Buddha’s name, that is not mindfulness of the Buddha. Furthermore, some people turn their prayer beads for countless rounds while watching television, remembering every plot detail vividly, and yet claim their daily task of Buddha recitation is complete—calling it “mindfulness of the Buddha.” That is deception. With no Buddha in the mind, while remembering everything on TV, that is not mindfulness of the Buddha; it is self-deception.
Why did the ancient sages and high masters achieve realization? Because their faith (śraddhā) was exceedingly pure. In their minds, there were no thoughts of sensory indulgences or entertainment—this point is paramount.
In contrast, modern people are daily saturated in sensory indulgences and entertainment. Once thoroughly saturated, they become polluted. After being polluted, they seek sensory indulgences every day; the mind searches incessantly, the body follows to search, and the mouth searches as well. Body, speech, and mind (tridvāra) never cease seeking physical and mental pleasures. Why? Because they define sensory entertainment as good and pleasurable. Yet, all these notions of “goodness” are self-defined; things that have never been defined simply do not exist as “good.” Therefore, human habits, tendencies, and habitual actions (vāsanā) are well-trained only after initial definition; from then on, people relentlessly chase these sensations and continuously believe their own false concepts (vikalpa). That is, one thinks, “I am thinking,” but in reality, that false thought is not “you” thinking. Many times, you do not wish to think, yet you cannot control it, and the thoughts continue. If it were truly yours, you would be able to control it—just like your hand. The hand is yours, so you can control what your hand does. If your thoughts cannot be controlled by you, and you are unable to hold them, then they are out of control. If a person’s mind, mouth, hands, and feet are out of control, what kind of person are they? If the mind and brain are out of control, what state is that? Can we truly control ourselves now, or are we entirely out of control? This is a grave issue.
We ought to test ourselves carefully and verify repeatedly: Can we maintain focused practice for 24 hours? 12 hours? 6 hours? 3 hours? Through this self-examination, we will discover that we are in a state of lost control. If your body, speech, and mind are all out of control, can you be called a normal person? A normal person possesses self-control; one who has lost control is no longer a normal person.
What kind of illness causes loss of control? Mental derangement easily leads to loss of control; Parkinson’s disease causes loss of control. Some people’s speech is also out of control: they forget what ought to be said, while words that should not or must not be said slip out uncontrollably. Even when clearly knowing that certain words are harmful, they feel compelled to say them—as if keeping them in would suffocate them. To avoid feeling suffocated, they say them anyway.
II. Initial Mental Application and Sustained Observation (Vitarka & Vicāra)
What exactly is causing this feeling of being suffocated? Is it the words? Is it the sound? Observe yourself closely; awaken to yourself. Detailed observation and self-awakening mark the entry into the first dhyāna, known as possessing initial mental application and sustained observation (savitarka-savicāra / 有覺有觀).
If one cannot awaken to oneself, cannot observe oneself, and lacks the power of meditative concentration (dhyāna-samādhi), then one is a distracted person. Distraction means the inability to unify or concentrate. For instance, if a family of five each thinks about their own separate affairs, that is distraction. The inability to exert control is called chaos. When one is both distracted and chaotic, is it possible to achieve unity of thought and behavior? It is destined to be a case of “sharing the same bed while dreaming different dreams.”
This phenomenon prevails throughout the world. Why is it so? Because continuous saturation has accumulated into pollution, staining into firm consciousness (vijñāna) and habitual tendencies (vāsanā) that become impossible to alter. “What I like to eat, what I dislike eating; what I like to wear, what I dislike wearing; what I like to play with, what I dislike playing with.” Consequently, people use their own habitual tendencies to bind themselves to arbitrary concepts and definitions that have no intrinsic reality. From these, they judge right and wrong, true and false, good and bad. Traced back to the very beginning, there were only your conceptual definitions and nothing intrinsic at all. Whatever you defined gave rise to that concept; in reality, it is nothing whatsoever. Humans define within this inherent nothingness, forming stubborn concepts that become solidified and unchangeable, ultimately losing faith forever.
Why do people lose faith? Because they discover that nothing is reliable: outsiders are unreliable, family members are unreliable, and finally, they discover that even they themselves are unreliable. “Whom can I trust? Whom can I rely on?” Why are outsiders, family members, and oneself all unreliable? Because they are all people who cannot control themselves; they are all out of control. Therefore, how could they be reliable? Upon realizing that even one oneself is out of control, one recognizes one’s own unreliability. After discovering this truth, where can faith be placed, and what is there to believe?
Thus, it can only be said that all beings perceive according to their karmic conditions (sva-karman). Those who created past karma to become officials become officials; having had that past karma, they now encounter such circumstances—nothing more. They are just like you: individuals incapable of controlling their own body, speech, and mind. They know full well that none of this is trustworthy; they are utterly confused and bewildered, not knowing what to do. Bewildered sentient beings are soaked in the vast, boundless sea of suffering (duḥkhasāgara).
The foundation of the ancient sages consisted of at least the Five Spiritual Faculties (indriya) and Five Powers (bala), fully equipped with faith—and that faith was entirely pure. Because their faith was pure, their cause (hetu) was also pure and genuine. They clearly understood that this is a matter of life and death: “I must not fall ill like ordinary sentient beings, producing uncontrollable or even uncontrollable diseases. Because a state of lost control is the most critical juncture within the ocean of birth and death; therefore, I must not lose control, but must learn to precisely govern myself.”
How can one precisely govern oneself? It is actually very simple: if you wish to leave suffering behind and attain happiness (離苦得樂), you can easily and precisely govern yourself.
Consider the simplest matter: we all desire happiness and do not wish for suffering. This desire is inherent in everyone. Why, then, is everything we create full of suffering? It is simply because you dare to act rashly without clear observation; hence, failure occurs repeatedly, and failure naturally brings suffering. Without thoroughly awakening to and observing the detailed process of change, you prematurely act, leading to inevitable failure and subsequent suffering. You will realize that this is a matter of investigation and observation—a matter of vitarka and vicāra, a matter of awakening and awareness. We ought to observe clearly and thoroughly.
For example, if I wish to plant flowers, I must learn to observe what conditions are needed for the seeds to germinate, and what conditions best facilitate the growth of stems, branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit. By precisely providing the necessary conditions, caring for it, and nurturing it according to its needs, it will inevitably grow well, bloom, and bear fruit. This is the effect produced by possessing initial application and sustained observation (savitarka-savicāra).
Take cooking as another example: what ingredients are needed, how much seasoning is required, what temperature is appropriate, and at what moment each item should be added—when you can precisely master the entire process, that is called having vitarka and vicāra.
Similarly, the Buddha taught non-killing (ahiṃsā). Do you know what non-killing truly entails and why one should not kill? When you study this thoroughly, you will understand that it involves a multitude of karmic cause-and-effect relationships (hetu-phala), all of which the Buddha clearly explained. If you lack the capacity for direct realization (yathābhūta-jñānadarśana), you can memorize according to the Buddha’s teachings regarding the retribution of killing. For instance, the Sūtra on the Ten Good Deeds of Karma (Daśakuśalakarmapathasūtra) operates on a higher dimension than basic precepts and provides a comprehensive explanation: killing not only causes ultimate suffering to yourself, but at the very moment of killing, it inflicts acute suffering upon other beings. All the suffering you inflict on them will eventually be experienced by you personally in the future—that is karma. This is merely one aspect; the Buddha expounded upon the vast network of cause and effect, even explaining three-dimensional cause and effect.
If you are willing to accept the karmic retribution, you may act as you wish; if you are unwilling to accept it, you may refrain. The choice is yours. With vitarka and vicāra, you understand what the retribution will be: if you want it, you act; if you do not want it, you refrain.
Beyond killing itself, if the objective is to eat meat—such as slaughtering a chicken—the Śūraṅgama Sūtra states: “Eating the flesh of a being creates a binding condition with that being.” For instance, if you eat a sheep, you establish a physical connection with that sheep. Subsequently, after the sheep dies, it may be reborn as a human; after you die, you may be reborn as a sheep, and it will slaughter and eat you in return. Thus the cycle continues endlessly. In essence, whatever you consume, that you shall become. If you eat a sheep, you become a sheep. Are you willing? If you are willing, then indulge freely in eating, drinking, and entertainment—the ultimate consequences must be borne by yourself.
Even worldly novels, despite being fictional, embody this underlying principle. Why do the demons in Journey to the West always seek to eat Tang Sanzang? Because they desire to attain his high spiritual level. Although those are fictional representations, the principle relies on the doctrine of the Buddhadharma to illustrate the reality.
Have we all mastered this fundamental principle and karmic formula? Apply it to every single detail of daily life. When applied, you possess initial application and sustained observation; when unapplied, you remain in a state of distraction, chaos, and lost control.
Beginning practice from a state of distraction means recognizing distraction as a sickness and taking the appropriate medicine. As you take the medicine, the illness gradually heals, distraction ceases, and initial application and sustained observation (vitarka-vicāra) gradually become established, expand, and occupy your entire body and mind. This is the process of cultivation (bhāvanā), through which this diseased state is cured. This is precisely how the ancients achieved realization.
Ultimately, after entering vitarka and vicāra and attaining thorough awakening, one realizes that all these phenomena are nothing more than one’s own definitions. These things possess no intrinsic good or bad, right or wrong, true or false, gratitude or resentment—they are all results of self-definition. All external conditions (pratyaya) are mere definitions; without my definition, these things do not exist, and thus all vanish.
III. The Buddhanusmṛti Effect
People are like blocks of ice—solid, angular, constantly harming others. Yet now, beneath the warm sunlight and under the intense light of wisdom (prajñā-prabhā), these “thousand-year-old ice blocks” and “ten-thousand-year-old ice blocks” gradually melt away.
The supreme light is the Buddha’s light (buddha-prabhā). If you maintain yourself well, clinging only to this light and discarding everything else, the Buddha’s light will illuminate and transform your entire being.
Maintain well your current thought of mindfulness of the Buddha. It is like the most extraordinary ancient sword: wherever it touches, that area instantly dissolves. Try practicing mindfulness of the Buddha right now; it truly produces this effect. Examine whether you are mindful of the Buddha: only when thought after thought is awakened can it be called Buddhanusmṛti. When reciting Amitābha Buddha—what is Amitābha? He is the Buddha of Infinite Light (Amitābha), the Buddha of Infinite Life (Amitāyus), the Buddha of Unobstructed Light (Apritihata-prabha)…
If you realize that all of this is nothing but your own definitions—that notions of good and bad are merely your definitions that formed rigid concepts, keeping you trapped within those concepts for a lifetime while stubbornly believing in “good” and “bad”—in reality, there is neither good nor bad. It was merely your daily saturation from the beginning, which over time formed stubborn habitual tendencies (vāsanā).
As mentioned before regarding stinky tofu: if you offer stinky tofu to a British person, he might be infuriated, considering it inedible and harmful. Yet European fermented stinky fish is even stronger than stinky tofu, and if you offer that to him, he will thank you for giving him such fine food. Both are malodorous; why is one accepted and the other rejected? It is purely due to habitual saturation, creating a rigid stereotype that defines good and bad, right and wrong, true and false, gratitude and resentment.
When you truly awaken, none of these exist anymore. It is like the legendary Tai’a Sword: whatever it touches vanishes, for those things have no intrinsic reality. Moreover, these definitions—just like the entire physical world—originated from a single wave of thought (eka-kṣaṇa-citta) and developed through continuous waves of thought. Combined with your observation, they form particles, increase in density, and collapse into the forms of all phenomena. It is merely this and nothing more; do you truly believe there is a substantial entity?
Therefore, when you truly practice mindfulness of the Buddha, that is awakening, that is enlightenment (bodhi). You realize that your original nature (svabhāva) is Amitābha Buddha, capable of creating all things. Furthermore, with the power of awakened observation, all your current points of confusion are penetrated without obstruction. You become absolutely clear that whatever a person is saturated with, that is what they become. Take one’s native language, for example: it is spoken so fluently because it was absorbed through saturation from childhood. Try doing that with something you haven’t been saturated with! Everything is acquired through saturation; these definitions and concepts resulting from saturation are merely definitions and concepts—they do not possess intrinsic reality. Once you awaken, all of this becomes instantly clear in your mind; only this deserves to be called Buddhanusmṛti.
Mindfulness of the Buddha is like a great wheel of fire: whatever comes into contact with it is immediately reduced to ashes. It destroys all evil karma (akuşala-karman) and afflictions (kleśa); it destroys everything, leaving nothing able to persist before it. It can destroy all things, and it can establish all things. This signifies the subduing of afflictions, the eradication of all evil, and achieving total ease and liberation (vaśitā) like a great wheel of fire.
Practicing mindfulness in this manner, where every phenomenon is observed and awakened to, you will gradually transcend and elevate continuously. Naturally, there will be nothing you cannot completely break through. When everything is broken through, you attain complete ease and autonomy in all things. Why grasp at things that never existed in the first place? Is it worth getting angry, agitated, and anxious every day over a bit of food? It is utter nonsense—getting all worked up over meaningless affairs. When truly awakened, one lives with unconstrained freedom and ease (muktā)—what a wonderful existence!
This is the supreme divine method, the most ingenious skill—like a crash of thunder breaking through all obstacles, like brilliant light dispelling all darkness.
ENDING
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