Do you not see him,
The really wise man, always at ease, unmoved?
He does not get rid of illusion, nor does he
seek for the (so-called) truth.
Ignorance is intrinsically the buddha nature,
Our illusory unreal body is the cosmic body.

Getting rid of things and clinging to emptiness
Is an illness of the same kind;
It is just like throwing oneself into a fire
to avoid being drowned.

When asked, “What is your religion?”
I answer, “The power of the makahannya.”
Sometimes affirming things, sometimes denying them,
It is beyond the wisdom of man.
Sometimes with common sense, sometimes against it,
Heaven cannot make head or tail of it.

I have seen the sun rising in the evening, and since then I have been drunk with that which is. You can call it existence, you can call it nirvana, you can call it any name – it does not matter. Whether you give it a name or you don’t give it, it remains the same. A rose is a rose is a rose. But one thing is certain: that the sun rises in the evening.

The apparent is not real; the real is just the opposite of the apparent. It is obvious that the sun rises in the morning. To deny the apparent and the obvious I say that I have seen the sun rising in the evening.

The experience of the buddhas contradicts the experience of everyone else. It is not common; it is unique, it is extraordinary. Ordinarily, whatsoever we have become accustomed to know is just a mind game, because we look at that which is with loaded eyes. Our mirrors are covered with great dust; they have become incapable of reflecting the real. The real is not far away. The real surrounds you; you are part of it, it is part of you. You are not separate from it, you have never been separate from it. You cannot be separate from it – there is no way to be separate from it, it is impossible to be separate from it. But still, the dust-covered mirror is incapable of reflecting it. Once the dust disappears, you will be surprised that all that you have been seeking was not needed to be sought at all, because you had it already.

The spiritual search is as illusory as any other search. The search itself is illusory because it has taken one thing for granted: that something is missing. And nothing is missing. Once you take it for granted that something is missing you start looking for it; then you go on looking for it in all directions. And the more you search the more you will miss it, because the more you search, the more dust-covered becomes the mirror. The more you travel to seek it, the farther and farther you go in search of it, the more and more frustrated you become. Slowly, slowly you start thinking, “It is so far away, that’s why I am not reaching it.”