Pojo Chinul’s Contributions to the Philosophy of Forgetting in East Asian Sŏn Buddhism: The Ten Paths to No-Mind

Abstract

This paper explores the role of forgetting in the thought of the Korean Sŏn (Chan in Chin.; Zen in Jpn. 禪) master Chinul (知訥, 1158–1210), situating it within broader East Asian philosophical and Buddhist discourses. While the concept of forgetting has often been treated negatively in Western philosophy—as a cognitive failure or loss—this study draws on recent comparative scholarship, including Youru Wang’s reading of Zhuangzi, to show how forgetting can be reframed as a conscious spiritual and philosophical practice. In particular, this paper examines how Chinul integrates the practice of forgetting into a systematic Buddhist framework grounded in no-self (anātman), emptiness (śūnyatā), and the unity of samādhi and prajñā. In Straight Talk on the True Mind (Chinsim chiksŏl 眞心直說), Chinul outlines ten distinct methods for cultivating no-mind by offering interpretations of teachings from various East Asian Chan masters. Through a detailed analysis of Chinul’s Chinsim chiksŏl, this paper argues that forgetting—when understood as the deliberate letting go of discursive thought, deluded conceptualizations, and habitual dualisms—becomes a powerful method for revealing the true mind. Ultimately, Chinul’s philosophy of forgetting offers a unique account of cognitive transformation—one that challenges conventional epistemologies and calls for a reorientation of perception itself. Therefore, Chinul’s teachings on no-mind and forgetting offer a profound understanding of how deconstructing ingrained cognitive habits can lead to the emergence of enlightened awareness, providing valuable insights into the transformative processes at the heart of East Asian Sŏn Buddhist practice.

1. Introduction

This paper examines the philosophical significance of forgetting within East Asian Sŏn (Chan in Chin.; Zen in Jpn. 禪) Buddhism with a particular focus on Pojo Chinul’s (普照 知訥, 1158–1210) contributions. As a highly influential Sŏn master and scholar, Chinul played a pivotal role in shaping Korean Buddhism by harmonizing meditative Sŏn practice with doctrinal Hwaŏm (Huayan in Chin. 華嚴) teachings (Kil 2012, p. 63; Buswell 1986, pp. 200–2; Buswell 1991, pp. 25, 38–40, 50–56; Buswell 2012, p. 5; Kang 2001, p. 98). His soteriological framework1—emphasizing sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation—laid the foundation for Korean Buddhist thought and practice (Buswell 1991, pp. 57–62; Buswell 2012, p. 5; Buswell 2016, pp. 3–92; Chŏng 2016, pp. 31–57). Chinul’s seminal texts, Secrets on Cultivating the Mind (Susim kyŏl 修心訣) and Straight Talk on the True Mind (Chinsim chiksŏl 眞心直說),2 solidified this soteriological system within Korean Buddhism. In particular, Straight Talk on the True Mind examines how the path to enlightenment involves a transformation of saṃsāric cognitive patterns—shaped by attachment, aversion, and delusion—into a new mode of perception grounded in the enlightened true mind (chinsim 眞心). This transformation is facilitated through ten methods of cultivating no-mind (musim 無心). As such, Straight Talk on the True Mind serves as an apt text for investigating the philosophical significance of forgetting as a representative method within Korean Sŏn Buddhism. However, the authorship of Straight Talk on the True Mind remains a matter of scholarly debate. I will briefly address this issue first, before turning to the philosophical discussion of forgetting in the text.

Straight Talk on the True Mind is traditionally attributed to Chinul. However, Nam Kwŏnhŭi and Ch’oe Yŏnsik have raised the possibility that Straight Talk on the True Mind may not have been authored by Chinul. Nam and Ch’oe assert that Straight Talk on the True Mind exhibits no demonstrable intertextual relationship with Chinul’s other extant writings (Nam and Ch’oe 2000, pp. 170–91). Moreover, they provide evidence that Straight Talk on the True Mind was not introduced to Korea until 1799, when it was transmitted from the Chinese mainland. Refuting Chinul’s authorship, they identify the twelfth-century Jurchen monk Zhengyan (Chŏngŏn 政言, ?–1184) as the most likely author, citing evidence from Zhengyan’s 1188 memorial stele (Nam and Ch’oe 2000, pp. 169–96).3 Most scholars have since accepted Ch’oe’s findings, and there is growing consensus that Straight Talk on the True Mind should be attributed to Zhengyan (Buswell 2012, pp. 89–90; Academy of Korean Studies 1991). However, Kim Pangnyong has refuted this claim by re-examining the text from both bibliographic and doctrinal perspectives and by closely analyzing its quotations and similar phrases found in Chinul’s other texts. Kim concludes that there is no definitive evidence either to conclusively attribute Straight Talk on the True Mind to Chinul or to categorically refute his authorship. Accordingly, he argues that the question of authorship warrants renewed scholarly consideration (P. Kim 2001, pp. 77–83).

From a doctrinal perspective, Chinul’s Sŏn thought is often characterized by three primary methods: “the balanced maintenance of alertness and calmness (sŏngjŏk tŭngji mun 惺寂等持門), faith and understanding (sinhae 信解; Skt. śraddhādhimukti) in accordance with the complete and sudden teaching (wŏndon sinhae mun 圓頓信解門), and the shortcut method of observing the keyword (kanhwa sŏn 看話禪; kyŏngjŏl mun 徑截門)” (Buswell 2012, pp. 61–62). Because Straight Talk on the True Mind does not advocate for any of the three methods central to Chinul’s soteriological framework, Nam and Ch’oe argue it should not be attributed to him (Nam and Ch’oe 2000, pp. 182–86). In contrast, Kim supports Chinul’s authorship of Straight Talk on the True Mind, citing several factors: its structural alignment with the doctrine of sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation (tono chŏmsu 頓悟漸修), the fact that more than half of the Chan masters cited in the text also appear in Chinul’s other works, and the frequent recurrence of phrases that closely mirror those found throughout Chinul’s corpus (P. Kim 2001, pp. 75–116).

Although the authorship of Straight Talk on the True Mind remains a matter of scholarly debate, as Kim Pangnyong’s research demonstrates, the text exhibits clear continuity with Chinul’s other writings, such as Secrets on Cultivating the Mind and Excerpts from the “Dharma Collection and Special Practice Record” with Inserted Personal Notes (Pŏpchip pyŏrhaengnok chŏryo pyŏngip sagi 法集別行錄節要科目並入私記), a view supported by numerous scholars (P. Kim 2001, pp. 75–116; K. Han 2000, pp. 13–114; Ch’oe 2002, pp. 77–102). Straight Talk on the True Mind adopts a dialogic format—a rhetorical style that enables the clarification of doctrinal issues through direct exchange—a method frequently employed by Chinul in his other works as well. I find Kim Pangnyong’s arguments regarding the text’s authorship particularly persuasive and, in the absence of compelling counter-evidence, see no reason to dismiss its traditional attribution to Chinul. Accordingly, this paper treats Straight Talk on the True Mind as an authentic work by Chinul and develops its analysis on that basis. Ultimately, however, whether Straight Talk on the True Mind is attributed to Chinul or to Zhengyan is secondary to the insights the text offers into the conception and practice of forgetting within the broader Chan tradition.

In Straight Talk on the True Mind, the true mind—innately present in all sentient beings—refers to humanity’s most fundamental and original genuine primordial reality. It is to be realized, recollected when forgotten, and, if obscured, recovered through practice. Chan practice is fundamentally about allowing the true mind to reveal itself; realizing this is synonymous with attaining enlightenment or seeing one’s true nature—one of the primary goals of the Chan school. However, the true mind transcends linguistic expression and conventional modes of thought, existing beyond the domain of words and discourse. In his preface, Chinul elucidates the limitations of language in conveying the profound path of the patriarchs, stating: “The path is not related to knowing or not knowing. Knowing is a false thought; not knowing is blankness” (Chinul 1991b, p. 119). He further emphasizes, “The true mind is arcane and subtle; it is free from thought and abstraction” (Chinul 1991b, p. 119). In other words, our conventional modes of thinking operate within the dualistic framework of knowing and not knowing, whereas the true mind transcends such limitations. If the realm of the true mind exists prior to such dualistic framework, how can we access and experience this non-dual state, given its incompatibility with language and logic?

According to Chinul, treating Buddhist scriptures merely as sources of intellectual knowledge or engaging in metaphysical debates misses the point of true practice. As Chinul explains in the preface to his work, instead of getting caught up in abstract theories, one should use the words of the teachings as a guide to directly perceive the inherent nature that is already complete and present within oneself—like following a pointing finger to see the moon—then that is the path to awakening. The true value of words and speech lies precisely in their ability to guide one to this realization. Fully aware of the limitations of language, Chinul nevertheless used it skillfully as a means to guide others. This freedom allowed him to develop and articulate his Sŏn thought and theories through his writings (Kang 2001, p. 99). To directly experience the true mind, Chinul emphasizes the importance of a reflexive practice that returns to the source (hoegwang panjo 廻光返照), guided by the teachings of the scriptures (Buswell 2012, pp. 62–63). In Straight Talk on the True Mind, Chinul outlines ten methods for cultivating no-mind (musim 無心), drawing on interpretations of various East Asian Chan masters. His approach of ceasing thoughts and disengaging from external conditions through the practice of no-mind offers valuable insights into the broader Buddhist philosophy of forgetting in East Asian traditions. By examining Chinul’s philosophy of no-mind in relation to the concept of forgetting, this paper explores how forgetting functions as a key aspect of Buddhist practice—allowing practitioners to transcend conceptual attachments and habitual conditioning, thereby gaining insight into the nature of true mind and reality. I hope that this paper will contribute to ongoing conversations among scholars of Buddhist studies as well as readers interested in the contemporary relevance of classical East Asian Buddhist thought, including those interested in comparative philosophy, religious studies, and psychology.

2. The Polysemic Nature of Forgetting in Western and Chan Thought

In The Ethical Dimension of Forgetfulness, Youru Wang explores the polysemic nature of forgetting, analyzing its various forms through psychological, theological, moral, ethical, and philosophical lenses (Wang 2025). The term forgetting carries multiple meanings, ranging from the act of discarding something to ceasing to take it seriously. While traditionally seen as a failure of memory (Miller 2021), modern psychology defines forgetting as the temporary inaccessibility of information (Tulving 1974, p. 74; Wang 2025, p. 3). Scholars have categorized forgetting in diverse ways. Miroslav Volf describes it as “not-coming-to-mind,” encompassing both unintentional oversight and deliberate erasure (Volf 2006, pp. 45–46; Wang 2025, p. 14). Paul Ricoeur distinguishes among blocked memory (Freudian repression) (Ricoeur 2004, pp. 444–48), manipulated memory (narrative selectivity) (Ricoeur 2004, pp. 448–52), and commanded forgetting (amnesty) (Ricoeur 2004, pp. 452–56; Wang 2025, pp. 21–22). Paul Connerton identifies seven types of forgetting in personal, social, economic, and political contexts, including repressive erasure, prescriptive forgetting, and forgetting for the sake of new identity formation (Connerton 2008, pp. 49–71; Wang 2025, p. 14). Similarly, Aleida Assmann proposes seven types, such as automatic, preservative, selective, punitive, defensive, constructive, and therapeutic forgetting (Assmann 2015, pp. 19–34; Wang 2025, p. 15). Wang notes that scholars such as Paul Ricoeur largely concentrate on Freud’s notion of pathological forgetting (Wang 2025, pp. 14–15). Wang also states that other scholars have investigated the beneficial side of forgetting. For example, Weinrich distinguishes “unpacified forgetting” (pre-therapy) and “pacified forgetting” (post-therapy), highlighting a Freudian paradox: forgetting as both issue and resolution (Weinrich 2004, p. 146; Wang 2025, p. 22). However, these typologies are largely shaped by Western frameworks and may not fully apply to non-Western traditions such as Daoism or Chan/Zen Buddhism. As discussed above, Western typologies of forgetting typically frame it in relation to memory, identity, and cultural continuity, often within a linear temporality and subject-centered epistemology. Forgetting is generally viewed as a loss, distortion, or repression of something that ought to be remembered. In contrast, Chan and Daoist frameworks are grounded in a non-dualistic ontology that emphasizes emptiness, spontaneity, and the dissolution of the constructed self. Within these traditions, forgetting is not seen as a failure or deficit but as a method of spiritual cultivation—a conscious release from discursive thought, attachments, and the conditioned structures of both personal and cultural memory. As such, forgetting can be generative, liberating, and soteriologically significant. These differences suggest that applying Western models risks misrepresenting the ontological stakes of forgetting in Chan and Daoist contexts.

Wang also explores distinct forms of forgetting in the Zhuangzi, such as self-healing forgetfulness, virtuous forgetting, and joyful forgetting, challenging conventional typologies in The Ethical Dimension of Forgetfulness (Wang 2025, pp. 22–27). Wang argues that the Zhuangzi presents numerous therapeutic narratives of forgetfulness, designed to foster psychological and existential well-being. In the Zhuangzi, forgetfulness involves “forgetting oneself”—a process of relinquishing self-centered concerns, emotional turmoil, and attachments to success or failure (Wang 2025, pp. 24–25). This form of forgetfulness does not imply a loss of memory but rather a shift in mindset from resistance to acceptance by letting go of attachments.4 By transcending rigid self-identification and dissolving self-focused anxieties, one harmonizes with the ever-changing flow of life. These narratives serve as early models of therapeutic counseling, in which Daoist sages guide individuals through anxiety and life’s constraints. Through vivid storytelling, compelling examples, and imaginative expression, the Zhuangzi offers a psychologically resonant alternative to direct argumentation. In doing so, Wang broadens our understanding of the philosophical and psychological significance of forgetfulness.

Chinul’s philosophy of no-mind appears to share key philosophical and psychological parallels with Zhuangzi’s concept of forgetfulness. Rather than being a negative state, it serves as a fundamental means of transforming ordinary saṃsāric cognitive patterns into an enlightened mode of awareness—one that associates with the true mind. In terms of their outcomes—namely, the cessation of suffering or the elimination of its source—the methods of both Zhuangzi and Chinul ultimately converge. However, Chinul’s approach differs from that of Zhuangzi in its more systematic reversal of conventional thinking. While Zhuangzi’s notion of forgetting is conveyed through therapeutic stories that support mental well-being and existential wholeness, Chinul’s concept of no-mind presents a more structured path for transcending habitual cognition and realizing enlightened awareness. To fully grasp this non-Western concept, therefore, it is essential to identify what is being forgotten—and how. Unlike the more linear notion of memory in Western philosophy, the East Asian Buddhist idea of forgetting transcends mere oblivion or detachment from past events. Instead, it involves letting go of the fundamental dualistic separation between sense-objects and the subjective observer—an inherent division that gives rise to deluded thoughts—or realizing the integration of the two. This process ultimately leads to the deconstruction of conventional conceptual and cognitive systems, paving the way for awakened cognitive patterns.

The broader context of East Asian Chan’s sudden awakening tradition also helps to understand Chinul’s no-mind practice. The Platform Sutra, for instance, teaches the notion of “no-thought” (wunian in Chin.; munyŏm in Kor. 無念), which refers to the mind’s non-abiding nature—its refusal to fixate on any object or idea (Yampolsky 1967, pp. 137–38; Gregory 1987, pp. 331–33; Buswell 1987, p. 323; Wang 2018, p. 78). By not clinging to thoughts or forms, one can see things as they truly are, free from obstructions, and thus associated with the reality of true suchness (Wang 2018, p. 77). While the idea of no-thought is not exclusive to the Platform Sutra, the text foregrounds it as a central theme through a distinctive rhetoric of negation (Buswell 1987, pp. 323, 334; Wang 2018, p. 78). This apophatic rhetoric expresses a transformation from delusion to true reality through the transcendence of unwholesome thoughts and attachments (Wang 2018, p. 78). Although there are some exceptions, Chan theorists generally abandoned the terms samādhi and prajñā in their discussions of meditation practice, advocating instead the cultivation of no-thought or no-mind (Buswell 1987, p. 323). Several eighth-century Chan manuscripts strongly critique practices such as “maintaining mind” (shouxin 守心) and “viewing mind” (guanxin 觀心), instead emphasizing concepts like “no mind” (wuxin 無心), “cutting off discernment” (jueguan 絕觀), and “no mindfulness [no-thought]” (wunian 無念) (Sharf 2014a, p. 945). While Sharf acknowledges the ambiguity as to whether these critiques were merely rhetorical strategies aimed at countering the reification of mind or indications of a genuinely alternative meditative approach (Sharf 2014a, p. 945), the notion of mindfulness of wholesome thought was not entirely dismissed. While wholesome thoughts—often associated with morality and meditation—are not entirely rejected, they are largely relegated to the background. They persist as a faint presence, occasionally surfacing and revealing a quiet tension within the text: a resistance to their complete marginalization (Wang 2018, p. 78).

Wang also clarifies how Chan Buddhist traditions in China navigated the tension between wholesome remembrance and the forgetting of unwholesome remembrance necessary for enlightenment. Musang (Wuxiang in Chin. 無相, 684–762) is a Korean Chan master who influenced the Jingzhong 淨衆 and Baotang 保唐schools in Sichuan. A central debate between Musang and his disciple Wuzhu (無住, 714–774) centers on whether traditional practices involving remembrance should be upheld or rejected. This fundamental disagreement between Wuzhu and Musang echoes throughout the later development of classical Chan, reflecting ongoing tensions in attitudes toward traditional cultivation (Wang 2018, pp. 79–82). In the Chan thought of Musang, the gate of no-thought integrates both the traditional rejection of unwholesome remembrance and the affirmation of wholesome mindfulness and wisdom (Wang 2018, p. 79). Unlike the earlier apophatic terms in Musang’s three phrases, i.e., “not remembering (morality), not thinking (meditation), and not forgetting (wisdom),” (Faure 2005, p. 158; Buswell 2005, p. 7) his notion of “no-forgetting” affirms the role of mindfulness and wisdom, striking a balance between negation and affirmation. This highlights how Musang reinterprets the traditional three trainings—morality, meditation, and wisdom—within the framework of no-thought, in contrast to Wuzhu’s more dismissive stance. Wuzhu’s seeming choice of “no-delusion” over Musang’s “no-forgetting” actually reveals a deeper liking for apophatic rhetoric and a very radical, image-breaking type of Chan Buddhism (Wang 2018, p. 80).

Chan Buddhist discussions on wholesome remembrance were significantly shaped by the Hongzhou 洪州宗 school, particularly under the guidance of Xingshan Weikuan (興善惟寬, 754–817) and Guishan Lingyou (潙山靈祐, 771–853) (Wang 2018, pp. 83–84). Weikuan, a direct disciple of Mazu Daoyi (馬祖道一, 709–788), and Guishan, a second-generation disciple of Mazu Daoyi, contributed key insights to this discourse. Weikuan emphasized that true cultivation lies in maintaining a balance between the forgetting rooted in ignorance and the remembrance grounded in wisdom (Wang 2018, pp. 83–84). Unlike approaches that treat cultivation and non-cultivation as opposing concepts, Guishan’s method integrates the two, thereby encompassing both sudden enlightenment and gradual cultivation (Wang 2018, p. 84). In his framework of recovering one’s original Buddha-nature, delusion is likened to forgetting, while awakening is likened to remembering (Wang 2018, p. 84). Guishan’s explanation and statement have significant implications. Firstly, this instance confirms the importance of positive meditative recollection in achieving Buddhist enlightenment (Buddha-nature) (Wang 2018, p. 84). Second, since all sentient beings possess original Buddha-nature, realized through initial awakening, gradual cultivation is simply the practice of remaining mindful of it and continually remembering it. Therefore, the immediacy of awakening and recall does not negate gradual growth and conquering forgetfulness (Wang 2018, p. 85). Thirdly, viewed relationally, forgetting and remembering, like delusion and awakening, are integral parts of the human mind’s dynamic process of change and transformation (Wang 2018, p. 85).

Chinul also appears to resolve this tension through his distinctive meditative framework of sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation (tono chŏmsu), a model he adopted from Guifeng Zongmi (圭峰宗密, 780–841), a ninth-century patriarch of both the Huayan and Chan traditions, and a successor of the Southern line of Heze Shenhui’s (荷澤神會, 670–762) teachings (Buswell 1986, p. 200; Buswell 2012, p. 17; Traer 1991, p. 94; Park 1983, pp. 106–9; Gregory 1987, p. 279). Thus, rather than settling for an apophatic notion of “no-thought,” he takes a step further with a more systematic theory of no-mind, making it the central practice for approaching the “true mind.” At the same time, he presents doctrinal school’s practices—such as various virtuous wholesome actions as supportive methods (Chinul 1991b, p. 135). Ultimately, these two modes of practice together become the foundation for attaining Buddhahood. Furthermore, an important characteristic of his no-mind theory is that it offers ten specific methods of practice, tailored to the practitioner’s level of understanding and spiritual capacity, allowing for the completion of true mind in accordance with the sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation model. Then, how does Chinul’s philosophy of no-mind contribute to the broader understanding of forgetting in Buddhist practice?

3. The “True Mind” as an Enlightened Cognitive Framework

In Straight Talk on the True Mind, Chinul draws upon 23 excerpts from Buddhist scriptures and Chan texts to elucidate the nature of the true mind (S. Han 2021, p. 130). The text consists of a preface and 15 chapters, each addressing a key aspect of the true mind as follows:

Preface: The Principle of Entering into the True Mind.

• Right Faith in the True Mind.
• Different Names for the True Mind.
• The Sublime Essence of the True Mind.
• The Sublime Function of the True Mind.
• Similarities and Differences Between the True Mind’s Essence and Function.
• The True Mind Amid Delusion.
• Extinguishing Delusion Concerning the True Mind.
• The True Mind in the Four Postures.
• The Abode of the True Mind.
• The True Mind Beyond Death.
• The Primary Practice and Secondary Aids for Realizing the True Mind.
• The Meritorious Qualities of the True Mind.
• Testing the True Mind’s Operation.
• The Nescience of the True Mind.
• The Destination of the True Mind (Chinul 1991b, pp. 118–49).

Chinul begins, in chapters 2 through 5, by clarifying the various names for the true mind found across numerous scriptures from both the Sŏn and Kyo traditions, as well as elucidating its sublime essence (myoch’e 妙體), its sublime function (myoyong 妙用), and the distinction between the two. Through this effort, it becomes clear that Chinul sought to promote the lifelong theme of his project—the harmonization of the Kyo (doctrinal) and Sŏn (meditative) traditions. In the Kyo tradition, the true mind is expressed through various terms such as “mind-ground,” “bodhi,” “dharmadhātu,” “tathāgata,” “nirvāṇa,” “suchness,” “dharma-body,” “true suchness,” “Buddha-nature,” “dhāraṇī,” “tathāgatagarbha,” and “complete enlightenment” (Chinul 1991b, pp. 121–22). The Sŏn tradition, on the other hand, refers to this realm as “beyond words and speech.” Yet Chinul reaffirms that these are ultimately not two separate things, but one and the same—both pointing to the true mind. In the Sŏn tradition, many other metaphorical expressions are used to describe the true mind—such as “oneself,” “the proper eye,” “the sublime mind,” “the old master,” “the bottomless bowl,” “a stringless lute,” “an inextinguishable lamp,” “a rootless tree,” “a sword that splits a wind-blown hair,” “the unconditioned kingdom,” “wish-fulfilling gem,” “a boltless lock,” “a clay ox,” “a wooden horse,” “the moon of the mind,” and “the gem of the mind” (Chinul 1991b, p. 122). Chinul explains that the existence of such a wide variety of names is due to the fact that our true mind responds to sensations and situations as they arise, adapting seamlessly to changing conditions without ever deviating from its nature.

The sublime essence of the true mind is inherently empty, pure, subtle, and radiant. It is luminous, and it reflects and reveals all things—mountains, rivers, trees, forests, and the myriad phenomena of the world—just as they are (Chinul 1991b, p. 123). If human cognition were compared to a mirror, then the true mind would be like a perfectly clear mirror, free from dust and stains, reflecting all things exactly as they appear (Chinul 1991b, p. 135). The pure mind’s nature, as shown in this illustration, is associated with early Chan texts, particularly from the East Mountain school’s fourth and fifth patriarchs (Sharf 2014a, p. 939). The inherent luminous nature of the true mind—timeless, spaceless, unchanging, and still—is often represented by the metaphor of a clear, mirror-like state. Furthermore, the true mind is the awareness that exists before the division between subject and object—before the perceiver and the reflected image in the mirror become distinct. Those who realize this nature of the true mind remain unaffected when distinctions and dualities arise. However, those who remain ignorant of it become entangled in the illusion of a divided world, mistaking the reflected images for reality and calling the mirror’s owner “spirit” or “soul,” thereby becoming trapped in the delusions of conceptual discrimination (Chinul 1991b, pp. 123–25). Thus, Chinul states: “From the standpoint of their characteristic signs they are not the same. From the standpoint of their natures, they are not different. Thus the essence and its function are neither the same nor different” (Chinul 1991b, p. 125). Function arises in response to conditions, manifesting in myriad forms and, in delusion, seeming to create illusory appearances. Yet, because function arises from essence, it never exists apart from it, and because essence gives rise to function, it never abandons function. Since neither is independent of the other, they are ultimately not different.

4. Saṃsāric Cognitive Patterns and Their Role in Suffering and No-Mind as a Transformative Practice

In Buddhism, the deluded mind is a major obstacle that prevents beings from attaining enlightenment. As long as this deluded mind remains, sentient beings cannot become buddhas. Then what, exactly, is the nature of this deluded mind, and how can one become free from it? Chinul repeatedly emphasizes that the dharma-body (dharmakāya) has always been present—it is the same in both Buddhas and ordinary beings. The minds of ordinary people and sages are fundamentally the same; this is a core tenet of the Early Chan East Mountain tradition (Chinul 1991b, p. 126; Sharf 2014a, p. 939). However, ordinary beings become attached to external phenomena, mistakenly believing that these objects exist independently and possess inherent reality. They also mistakenly assume that the subject—the one who perceives—is itself an independently existing self. Because of this fundamental ignorance, they constantly give rise to greed, hatred, and delusion (Chinul 1991b, p. 138). This is the very substance of delusion in the minds of the unenlightened. Chinul compares this to a clear maṇi gem that reflects five colors depending on the direction from which it is viewed (Chinul 1991b, p. 126). The ignorant mistakenly believe that the gem actually possesses those colors (a metaphor for delusion or ignorance). Driven by this misunderstanding, they crave the colors they desire (greed), and when an unwanted color appears, they generate aversion (hatred). Caught in this cycle of attachment and aversion, they repeat these afflicted habitual patterns, producing endless suffering and living their lives in delusion. In sum, the pure nature of perfect enlightenment (wŏn’gak 圓覺) manifests through body and mind in various forms, depending on conditions. However, the ignorant falsely believe that these body and mind characteristics exist independently, separate from the nature of perfect enlightenment itself, thereby generating unintended suffering.

For Chinul, the object of forgetting is precisely the totality of our habitual patterns of deluded thinking. Umberto Eco argues that forgetting cannot be intentionally achieved, since every attempt to forget paradoxically reinforces the act of remembering (Eco 1988, p. 259; Wang 2025, pp. 12–13). For example, if one tries not to think of an elephant, the very effort to suppress the thought only keeps the image alive. According to Eco, forgetting is inherently involuntary and cannot be consciously constructed as an intentional or cultural act. This paradox supports the idea that the more we try to recall the true mind through memory, the more we distance ourselves from its true nature. This is because memory itself is shaped by language and habitual patterns of thought. Therefore, the more we attempt to define the true mind and retrieve it through cognitive processes, the more we become estranged from its essence. Paradoxically, then, it is by consciously releasing our habitual ways of thinking and embracing forgetting that the true mind is allowed to reveal itself.

Chinul teaches that, when both mind—the perceiving subject—and dharmas—the perceived objects—are completely forgotten, one’s true nature is realized. This marks the transition from delusion to the manifestation of the true mind. Where deluded thoughts are absent, there is bodhi (awakening). The active meditative method that enables the revelation of this true mind is none other than the practice of no-mind. This does not imply the absence of mind itself. Chinul illustrates this point with the example of an empty bottle: we call a bottle “empty” when there is nothing inside it, not when the bottle itself is nonexistent (Chinul 1991b, p. 127). In the same way, true no-mind is not the negation of awareness, but the absence of clinging—both to the objects of awareness and to the subject that is aware. When such dualistic attachment is relinquished, the luminous clarity of the mirror-like true mind reveals itself effortlessly. This is the subtle functioning of the true mind: empty, numinous, and serene, yet fully responsive. Chinul goes on to present ten specific methods for cultivating this state of no-mind.

5. Chinul’s Soteriology: Sudden Awakening Followed by Gradual Cultivation

Straight Talk on the True Mind does not explicitly use the terms sudden awakening or gradual cultivation as found in Chinul’s Secrets on Cultivating the Mind. As Kang Kŏn’gi and Yi Ch’anggu show in their papers, however, a close examination of the structure of Straight Talk on the True Mind reveals that its overall framework in fact follows the paradigm of sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation (Yi 2005, pp. 11–15; Kang 1997, p. 186; P. Kim 1998, p. 249–64). In section one “Right Faith in the True Mind,” Chinul articulates that one must enter into the true mind through faith (Chinul 1991b, pp. 119–21). This implies that before introducing the ten methods for cultivating no-mind, Chinul first outlines the stage of sudden awakening—an initial realization of the true mind—grounded in right faith. To emphasize the importance of faith, he quotes the Avataṃsaka Sūtra: “Faith is the fountainhead of the path and the mother of all meritorious qualities. It nourishes all good roots.” (Chinul 1991b, p. 119). In the approach of scholastic school, this means entering through the law of karmic causality and the ten wholesome actions (Chinul 1991b, p. 120). However, in the Sŏn approach, one does not believe in conditioned causality but solely in the Buddha-nature (Chinul 1991b, p. 120). This means believing that one’s own mind is the dharma-body (dharmakāya) and the sublime essence of nirvana is complete in everyone (Chinul 1991b, p. 120).

In Chinul’s framework, faith (sin in Kor.; xin in Chin. 信) is not merely belief in a doctrine or an external authority; rather, it is an existential trust that one’s own mind is originally pure and identical to Buddha-nature. To have faith, in this sense, is to rest completely in the innate clarity and luminosity of the true mind, without interference from doubt or discursive thinking. Regarding the true mind, Chinul cites the Third Patriarch, who stated: “The mind is vast like space, lacking neither anything nor nothing in excess. It is only due to grasping and rejecting that it appears otherwise” (Chinul 1991b, p. 120). He also references Yongjia Xuanjue (永嘉玄覺, fl. early 8th c.), who remarked: “The true nature of ignorance is none other than the Buddha-nature; the void, phantom-like body is itself the dharma-body” (Chinul 1991b, p. 120).

In the early Buddhist traditions, “faith” is considered a mental faculty or power through which one responds to the Buddha’s teachings, takes refuge in the Three Treasures, and aspires to attain enlightenment (Traer 1991, p. 87). Sung Bae Park explains that early Buddhism used terms like śraddhā, prasāda, and adhimukti to express “faith,” which he sees as including both practice and enlightenment—a firm “conviction in the state of clearness, tranquil, and freedom” of the mind (Park 1983, pp. 15–16). Drawing from Chinul and Yongming Yanshou (永明延壽, 904–975), Park emphasizes that faith must be paired with understanding: faith alone leads to ignorance, while understanding without faith leads to distortion (Park 1983, pp. 17–18; Traer 1991, p. 91).

According to Chinul, there are two types of faith: patriarchal faith and doctrinal faith. In Straight Talk on the True Mind, Chinul explains the difference between patriarchal faith and doctrinal faith as follows:

Question: What difference is there between faith in the patriarchal Sŏn and scholastic sects? Chinul: There are many differences. The scholastic sects encourage men and gods to have faith in the law of karmic cause and effect. Those who desire the pleasures which come from merit must have faith that the ten wholesome actions are the sublime cause and that human or deva rebirth is the pleasurable result. Those who feel drawn to the void-calmness of nirvana must have faith that its primary cause is the understanding of the cause and conditions of arising and ceasing and that its holy fruition is the understanding of the four noble truths: suffering, its origin, its extinction, and the path leading to its extinction. Those who would delight in the fruition of Buddhahood should have faith that the practice of the six parāmitās over three asaṃkhyeya kalpas is its major cause and bodhi and nirvana are its right fruition.

Right faith in the patriarchal sect is different. It does not believe in conditioned causes or effects. Rather, it stresses faith that everyone is originally a Buddha, that everyone possesses the impeccable self-nature, and that the sublime essence of nirvana is complete in everyone. There is no need to search elsewhere; since time immemorial, it has been innate in everyone.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 120)

Drawing on this passage, Park identifies two distinct Buddhist views on attaining enlightenment through faith: doctrinal faith and patriarchal faith (Park 1983, pp. 19–20). Doctrinal faith regards the Buddha as an external object of belief, creating a dualistic perspective that contradicts the Buddhist principle of dependent origination (Park 1983, pp. 19–24). In contrast, patriarchal faith, as interpreted by Chinul, is non-dualistic in nature. Emphasizing the innate purity of self-nature in all beings, it does not posit an external object of faith but instead involves re-realizing this intrinsic nature. Park interprets this view as identifying the Buddha with the true nature (ch’e 體) inherent in all sentient beings, with faith functioning as its active expression (yong 用), highlighting their inseparability (Park 1983, p. 37; Traer 1991, p. 91). I find Park’s interpretation appropriate, especially given that Chinul later emphasizes the unity of ch’e and yong in his discussion of the ten methods of no-mind. In particular, the essence/function (ch’e/yong in Kor.; ti/yong in Chin. 體/用) schema in Huayan Buddhism articulates a non-dual vision where ultimate reality (li 理) and phenomenal manifestation (shi 事) are interdependent and mutually inclusive. Chinul endorsed Li Tongxuan’s theory of Nature origination (xingqi 性起), which holds that all phenomenal appearances are simply the functional manifestations (yong 用) of an inherent nature (xing 性) that serves as their essential ground (ti 體) (Gregory 2002, p. 233).

Chinul’s soteriology of sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation also reflects this non-dual vision of the simultaneous cultivation of samādhi and prajñā. In this context, samādhi is identified as the essence (ch’e) of the self-nature, while prajñā is its function (yong) (Buswell 1986, p. 208). Though they may appear distinct in how they manifest—stillness versus activity—they both arise from the same non-dual self-nature. Thus, samādhi and prajñā are not separate or sequential but mutually embedded: samādhi is the inner ground of prajñā, and prajñā is the dynamic expression of samādhi (Buswell 1986, p. 208). This reflects the non-dual Huayan logic in which essence and function are interpenetrating aspects of the same reality. Chinul’s patriarchal faith can be traced to Li Tongxuan, particularly in its emphasis on the non-duality of practice and enlightenment (Park 1983, pp. 20–21; Traer 1991, p. 91; Buswell 2012, pp. 47–55). Only patriarchal faith, Park argues, enables true sudden enlightenment through direct realization of dependent origination and the emptiness of all dharmas (Park 1983, pp. 25–26; Traer 1991, p. 91).

Park explains that, for Chinul, enlightenment unfolds in two stages: “immature enlightenment” (initial insight) and “final enlightenment” (ultimate wisdom) (Buswell 2012, pp. 56–61; Traer 1991, p. 94). The phrase “I am Buddha” gains full significance only within samādhi, illustrating the radical nature of Mahayana patriarchal faith, where faith and samādhi are one. Park defines this “patriarchal faith” as a form of sudden enlightenment that is both necessary and sufficient for awakening—not driven by will or doubt, but encompassing them. In this view, practice is not a means to enlightenment but its natural expression (Park 1983, p. 107; Traer 1991, p. 94). Therefore, in Chinul’s thought, “faith” is the state of unburdened presence: it arises when one no longer clings to doubt or seeks to define the true mind through conceptual grasping. The correlation with forgetting becomes clearer here: just as one cannot forcibly forget something by sheer willpower as Umberto Eco notes, one cannot enter the true mind by effortful recollection or analysis. Rather, one must let go of even a minute doubt—the tiniest conceptual wedge that separates the self from Buddha-nature. That act of surrender is forgetting, and in that forgetting, faith naturally arises—not as an act of will, but as a condition of unobstructed being. This is also why Chinul emphasizes that realization is not something added on, but something uncovered when habitual delusions fall away. Faith is the immediate resonance with the true mind, and forgetting is the quiet clearing of the ground in which this resonance can occur.

In particular, this section resonates with Chinul’s emphasis on Li Tongxuan’s stereologically oriented interpretation of Huayan philosophy. Li rejected both the traditional Yogācāra view of attaining Buddhahood over three incalculable eons and Fazang’s theory of gradual attainment over three lifetimes, instead advocating for the immediate realization of Buddhahood in this very life at the initial stage of the ten faiths (Buswell 1991, pp. 53–54). After this initial sudden awakening through faith, the main practice becomes the cultivation of no-mind, while supplementary practices—such as engaging in virtuous actions like acts of generosity—serve as supportive means (Chinul 1991b, p. 135). Through the parallel engagement of these two aspects, gradual cultivation unfolds, ultimately leading to Buddhahood.

In Secrets on Cultivating the Mind, Chinul presents a soteriological framework that integrates sudden awakening and gradual cultivation with both practices (Buswell 1991, pp. 107–12). In this text, Chinul discusses two major types of the practice of both samādhi and prajñā: a relative type, which he calls “samādhi and prajñā that adapt to signs” (susang chŏnghye 隨相定慧), and an absolute type, referred to as the “samādhi and prajñā of the self-nature” (chasŏng chŏnghye 自性定慧) (Buswell 2012, p. 69). What is also crucial here is that Chinul’s understanding of these two major practices, as articulated in both Encouragement to Practice: The Compact of the Samādhi and Prajñā Society (Kwŏnsu chŏnghye kyŏlsamun 勸修定慧結社文) and Secrets on Cultivating the Mind, serves as a key to understanding the practice of the ten methods for cultivating no-mind (Yi 2005, p. 12).

The simultaneous practice of samādhi and prajñā based on the self-nature fundamentally challenges the traditional framework of the threefold training—śīla (precepts), samādhi (meditative absorption), and prajñā (wisdom) (Yi 2005, pp. 12–13). In the conventional model, precepts regulate the body, speech, and mind; samādhi is cultivated by concentrating the scattered mind on a single object; and prajñā arises as a result, allowing one to see reality clearly. This sequential approach, however, was rejected by Huineng (慧能, 638–713). In the Platform Sūtra, Huineng or Shenhui (神會, 670–762) introduced a radically different model rooted in the true nature of the mind: samādhi of the self-nature is characterized by freedom from distraction, prajñā of the self-nature by the absence of ignorance, and śīla of the self-nature by the absence of mental distortion or error (Yampolsky 1967, p. 164; Buswell 1987, p. 328). Since this approach presupposes a direct realization of the true mind, it represents a mode of “non-cultivation as cultivation,” which is ideal for those of advanced spiritual capacity (Yi 2005, p. 12).

Nevertheless, Chinul acknowledges the relative or conventional approach to samādhi and prajñā as an essential part of gradual cultivation following sudden awakening. In Secrets on Cultivating the Mind, he expresses this approach as follows:

But hindrances are formidable and habits are deeply ingrained. Contemplation is weak and the mind drifts. The power of ignorance is great, but the power of prajñā is small. He still cannot avoid being alternately unmoved and upset when they come in contact with wholesome and unwholesome sense-objects. When the mind is not tranquil and content, they cannot but work both at forgetting all conditioning and at effacement. As it is said, “When the six sense-bases absorb the sense-spheres and the mind no longer responds to the environment, this is called samādhi. When the mind and the sense-spheres are both void and the mirror of the mind shines without obscuration, this is called prajñā.” Even though this is the relative approach to samādhi and prajñā which adapts to signs as practiced by those of inferior faculties in the gradual school, it cannot be neglected as a counteractive technique.

(Chinul 1991a, p. 109, Emphasis mine; indicated by italics)

然障濃習重 觀劣心浮 無明之力大 般若之力小 於善惡境界 未免被動靜互換 心不恬淡者 不無忘緣遣蕩功夫矣 如云六根攝境 心不隨緣 謂之定 心境俱空 照鑑無惑 謂之慧 此雖 隨相門定慧 漸門劣機所行也 對治門中 不可無也.

In this passage, Chinul observes that, although this relative approach remains conditioned and defiled prior to awakening, it becomes a legitimate means of manifesting the true mind once awakening has taken place. In this way, Chinul synthesizes both the absolute and relative approaches, creating a nuanced and inclusive path that integrates sudden insight with ongoing disciplined practice.

6. Forgetting as a Cognitive Transformation: Chinul’s Ten Methods of No-Mind in Straight Talk on the True Mind

Shulman (2010, pp. 405–8) suggests that applying Buddhist categories and having internalized Buddhist knowledge is crucial for understanding mindfulness and remembrance through observing spontaneous occurrences (Wang 2018, p. 71). The act of remembering is integral to Buddhist practices of understanding, reflection, cultivation, and mindfulness (Shulman 2010, pp. 407–8; Wang 2018, p. 71). Similarly, Chinul’s viewpoint on forgetting in the practice of no-mind can only be understood by studying his ten methods of no-mind. Therefore, to understand Chinul’s no-mind practice and its concept of forgetting, we need to fully grasp what it means to forget within that context.

Now let us take a closer look at the ten techniques Chinul articulates for the practice of no-mind. The first and second techniques are “attention” and “rest.” These two methods focus on eliminating deluded thoughts through sustained attention and intentional resting. Many scholars understand these as preliminary practices—a relative approach to samādhi and prajñā rather than as an absolute approach (Yi 2005, p. 12; K. Han 2000, p. 13).5 This interpretation is based on the assumption that deluded thoughts continue to arise due to residual habitual karmic tendencies, even after sudden awakening. Although Kim Ch’angŏn argues that these two practices should be understood as encompassing both relative and absolute approaches (C. Kim 2017, p. 175), I view them as more rudimentary stages of practice, especially when compared to the other eight methods among the ten methods of no-mind. Given that their primary concern is addressing deluded thoughts, most Buddhist scholars identify these as elementary practices of “samādhi and prajñā that adapt to signs”.

6.1. (1) “Attention” (kakch’al 覺察) and (2) “Rest” (hyuhŏl 休歇)

The first method is “attention” (kakch’al 覺察). This is the practice of cutting off deluded thoughts through attentive awareness. The moment a thought arises, it is immediately recognized and shattered. Once a false thought is destroyed, no subsequent thoughts follow. In this practice, forgetting both delusion and awakening is called no-mind (Chinul 1991b, p. 128). As Chinul quotes from Yongming Yanshou, practitioners should not fear the arising of deluded thoughts, but rather be concerned only with being slow to recognize them.6 One should not seek the truth directly, but simply allow oneself to be aware of deluded thoughts. This is the practice of letting go of delusions through attentiveness.

The second method is “rest” (hyuhŏl 休歇). This is the practice of resting judgmental mindsets regarding both arising mental states and external conditions, whether they are deemed good or evil. When thoughts arise, one simply rests one’s discriminative judgment about their nature. When encountering external phenomena, one does the same. “Leave behind all discrimination” and “become like the stupid and senseless”—only then can one begin to unite, even partially, with the true mind (Chinul 1991b, p. 128).7 This is the practice of extinguishing delusion through resting. In particular, in the practices of attention (kakch’al) and rest (hyuhŏl), Chinul emphasizes that not only should deluded thoughts be eliminated through awareness, but also that even the wisdom gained through such awareness should not linger in the mind.

As soon as a thought arises we destroy it through attention. Nevertheless, once deluded thoughts have been destroyed through attention and no subsequent thoughts occur, we should abandon this aware wisdom. When delusion and awareness are both forgotten, it is called no-mind.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 128)

一念纔生 便與覺破 妄念覺破 後念不生 此之覺智 亦不須用 妄覺俱忘 名曰無心

True no-mind lies in the forgetting of even this aware wisdom. In this context, “forgetting” carries a meaning similar to the notion of “letting go” in Zhuangzi (Wang 2025, p. 30). Another important point to consider is that the term “forgetting” in Straight Talk on the True Mind is used in the passive sense—not as something one actively does, but as something that naturally occurs. In this view, when both delusion and awakening are forgotten, no-mind arises. Thus, the forgetting of delusion or awareness is not the result of a deliberate effort to forget, but rather the natural outcome of sustained, attentive awareness. As several scholars have noted, this practice closely resembles vipassanā—the Theravāda Buddhist practice of “bare attention” (Thera 2014, pp. 22–36; C. Kim 2017, p. 170; Kang 2001, p. 30).8 The concept of “resting” in the second method of no-mind can be understood in a similar light. When deluded thoughts arise, engaging in judgments about whether those thoughts are good or bad only reinforces the cycle of attachment and aversion, further fueling delusion. Instead, by simply letting go of these evaluative tendencies—becoming, as the texts say, “like the senseless or the stupid”—one may begin to catch even a faint glimpse of the true mind.

6.2. (3) Effacing Objects While Preserving the Mind; (4) Effacing the Mind While Preserving Objects; (5) Effacing Both Mind and Objects; and (6) Preserving Both Mind and Objects

The distinction between dharma (understood here as the objective aspect of Sŏn) and person (the subjective aspect)—that is, the separation of reality into object and subject—is not an ultimate truth, but rather a skillful means of explanation for those who have not yet realized the true nature of reality (Kil 2012, p. 116). It helps practitioners conceptually grasp how attachments arise from clinging to either the self or the world as fixed and separate entities. However, this distinction is only meaningful from the perspective of someone who is still outside the direct experience of enlightenment, or the realm of truth.

In this context, Yi Ch’anggu interprets the four methods—(3) effacing objects while preserving the mind, (4) effacing the mind while preserving objects, (5) effacing both mind and objects, and (6) preserving both mind and objects—not as absolute paths, but as relative and provisional practices (Yi 2005, p. 13). He categorizes them as “samādhi and prajñā in accordance with signs,” meaning that they are methods tailored to practitioners who still perceive the world through signs and dualities (such as subject/object, self/other, inner/outer). The core issue these practices address is attachment—not just to external things (the objective world), but also to internal phenomena like thoughts, emotions, or a sense of “self” (the subjective world) (Yi 2005, p. 13).

Even after a practitioner has had a genuine insight into the “true mind”—a state free from ignorance and the dualistic view of a fixed self and fixed external world—they often continue to experience the world through deeply ingrained habits. These habitual patterns can cause them to revert back to dualistic thinking and attachments. Therefore, the practices function as antidotes to these residual tendencies (Yi 2005, p. 13). In describing them, Chinul uses the term min (泯), meaning “to efface” or “to eliminate.” If we interpret this term from the perspective of forgetting, it can be understood as an active process of letting go—deliberately forgetting or releasing one’s attachment to false views of the self or external objects. For instance, when a practitioner finds themselves clinging to the idea of a self, the instruction is to release that attachment and simply be aware of external phenomena without grasping at a “me” who experiences them. Conversely, when attachment arises toward external objects, the practitioner is advised to release that attachment and remain solely in awareness of the mind. In this way, such methods help to balance and dissolve lingering dualistic tendencies.

Three: efface the mind but preserve objects. This means that when we are practicing, we extinguish deluded thoughts and do not concern ourselves with the external sense-spheres. We are only concerned with extinguishing the mind, for when the deluded mind is extinguished, what danger can sensual objects present?

(Chinul 1991b, p. 128)

三泯心存境 謂做功夫時 於一切妄念俱息 不顧外境 但自息心 妄心已息 何害有境

We humans often believe that the root of our suffering lies in our external environment or in the people who trouble us. However, by applying the four active methods of “effacing” introduced here, a practitioner can ultimately break free from this misconception and maintain inner equanimity, regardless of their surroundings or the people around them.

The third method—effacing the mind while preserving objects—can be described as follows. Suppose that unfavorable external situations or people stimulate the mind. In that moment, if there is a subjective agent in interpreting the situation and those involved, it may judge the situation as harmful or threatening, perceiving others as the cause of distress. This immediately creates a dualistic framework within the mind—one in which there is someone who causes suffering and someone who suffers from it. One then identifies with one side of this dynamic, leading to emotional turmoil. However, if one comes to realize that this dualistic frame is ultimately a mental construct—an illusion created by the mind—and is able to let it go, then no matter what situation arises, there will be no internal structure through which the mind reacts. In this state of true mind, the external world reveals itself just as it is, without added interpretation or emotional coloring. Challenging conditions may still exist externally, but the internal interpreter that turns those conditions into personal suffering is no longer active. As a result, the root of suffering dissolves. In this sense, while conventional appearances (saṃvṛti-satya) continue to function, they are perceived through the lens of emptiness, without grasping. Chinul cites the saying, “In this place, there is fragrant grass; throughout the whole city, there are no old friends,” along with Layman Pang’s (Pang Jushi 龐居士, ca. 740–808) words: “You need only maintain no-mind amid the myriad things—then how could you be hindered by the things that constantly surround you?” (Chinul 1991b, p. 128). In particular, when one relinquishes attachment to habitual ways of perceiving the world, a natural outcome often follows: an increased capacity to accept and engage with circumstances—even those that may appear objectively painful. Equally important, letting go of attachment to the self fosters compassion, understood as a deep openness to and empathetic engagement with the experiences and mental states of others.

Four: efface objects but preserve the mind. This means that when we are practicing, we contemplate all internal and external sense-spheres as being void and calm. We preserve only the one mind, signaling solitarily and standing alone. As the ancients said, “Don’t be friends with the myriads of dharmas. Don’t be partners with the world of dust.” It the mind is attached to the sense-spheres it becomes deluded. But if there are no sense-sphere, what delusion can there be? The true mind shines alone and is unobstructed in regard to the path. This is what the ancients called “take away the objects but leave the man.”

(Chinul 1991b, pp. 128–29)

四泯境存心 謂做功夫時 將一切內外諸境 悉觀爲空寂 只存一心 獨標獨立 所以古人云 不與萬法爲呂 不與諸塵作對 心若着境 心卽是妄 今旣無境 何妄之有 乃眞心獨照 不碍於道 卽古人 奪境不奪人也

The second method of “effacing” involves a thorough realization of the emptiness (śūnyatā) of the external sense-spheres, which do not exist as independent or substantial entities. At the same time, when perceiving these sense-spheres, the practitioner does not divide the experience into a perceiving subject and perceived objects within the mind. In other words, because the emptiness of the objects is already recognized in the very act of perception, this realization prevents the mind from splitting into dualistic structures. Chinul reinforces this point by quoting Layman Pang as follows: “Don’t be friends with the myriads of dharmas. Don’t be partners with the world of dust” (Chinul 1991b, p. 128). Chinul said, “If there is no sense-spheres, what delusion can there be? The true mind shines alone and it unobstructed in regard to the path. This is what the ancients called “take away the objects but leave the man.” (Chinul 1991b, pp. 128–29). When the external world is effaced in this way, practitioners no longer project the cause of their suffering onto external situations or people, nor do they respond with blame or resentment. Instead, attention turns inward—toward the inner conflict between the divided subject and object within one’s own mind. By directly experiencing the turmoil this division produces, one ultimately realizes its lack of true substance and comes to taste genuine true mind.

Five: Efface both mind and objects. This means that when we are practicing, we initially make the external sense-objects void and calm and then annihilate the internal—the mind. Since internal and external are both calmed, where can delusion arise?

(Chinul 1991b, p. 129)

五泯心泯境 謂做功夫時 先空寂外境 次滅內心 旣內外心境俱寂 必竟妄從何有

Six: Preserve both mind and objects. This means that when we are practicing, mind remains in its place and objects remain in their place. If there is a time when the mind and the objects come in contact with each other, then the mind does not grasp at the objects and the object do not intrude upon the mind. If neither of them contacts the other, then naturally, deluded thoughts will not arise and there will be no obstacles to the path.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 129)

六存心存境 謂做功夫時 心住心位 境住境位 有時心境 相對則心不取境 境不臨心 各不相到 自然妄念 不生 於道無碍

The third and fourth methods of “effacing” are practices undertaken only after one has firmly realized the truth of no-self and the emptiness of all dharmas. Thus, Chinul poses the rhetorical question, “Where can delusion arise?” to indicate that, at these stages of practice, deluded thoughts no longer arise as objects to be dealt with through cultivation. However, the difference between the practice at these stages and the later practices of realizing the sameness of the essence and function of the true mind is that, at this point, the dualistic framework of a perceiving mind as subject and external phenomena as objects is still in operation. Nevertheless, since the practitioner has already firmly realized the emptiness of both external objects and the mind itself, there is no longer any need to struggle against the countless deluded thoughts that arise from failing to recognize this truth. At these stages, one simply deepens the recognition of the emptiness of both mind and phenomena—sometimes letting go of both, sometimes allowing both to remain—without the need to contend with deluded thoughts any longer.

Ultimately, once a person fully realizes the source of Sŏn—the true nature of mind and reality beyond all dualities—then these distinctions between subject and object, mind and object, or self and world are no longer relevant. At that stage, such conceptual distinctions are neither present nor necessary, as the practitioner abides directly in non-dual awareness. Chinul describes a further set of four practices that can be followed in these advanced stages: (7) recognizing that internal and external are of the same essence, (8) realizing that internal and external share the same function, (9) understanding that essence and function are identical, and (10) ultimately transcending both essence and function.

6.3. (7) Recognizing That Internal and External Are of the Same Essence; (8) Realizing That Internal and External Share the Same Function; (9) Understanding That Essence and Function Are Identical; and (10) Ultimately Transcending Both Essence and Function

Seven: internal and external are all the same essence. This means that when we are practicing, the mountains and rivers of the great earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, and the constellations, the internal body and the external world, as well as all dharmas, are all viewed as being the same essence of the true mind. That essence is clear, empty, and bright without a hair’s breadth of differentiation. The world systems of the chiliocosm, as numerous as grains of sand, have fused into one whole: where would the deluded mind be able to arise? Dharma Master Seng-chao said, “Heaven and earth and I have the same root. The myriad things and I have the same essence.” This is the method of extinguishing delusion by recognizing that external and internal are the same essence.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 130)

七內外全體 謂做功夫時 於山河大地 日月星辰 內身外器 一切諸法同眞心體 湛然虛明 無一毫異 大千沙界 打成一片 更於何處 得妄心來 所以肇法師 云天地與我同根 萬物與我同體 此是內外全體滅妄功夫也

Eight: internal and external are all the same function. This means that when we are practicing, we take up all the dharmas of the physical universe—internal or external, mental or physical---as well as all motion and activity, and regard them all as the sublime functioning of the true mind. As soon as any thought or mental state arises, it is then the appearance of this sublime function. Since all things are this sublime functioning, where can the deluded mind stand?

(Chinul 1991b, p. 130)

八內外全用 謂做功夫時 將一切內外身心器界諸法 及一切動用施爲 悉觀作眞心妙用 一切心念纔生 便是妙用現前 旣一切 皆是妙用 妄心向甚麽處安着

Nine: substance and function are identical. This means that when we are practicing, although we conform with the true essence which has the single taste of void-calmness, numinous brightness is still concealed there. Hence essence is identical to function. As Yun-chia said, “The alertness of calmness is correct; the alertness of deluded thoughts is wrong.” Since blankness is not present in calmness, and distracted thoughts are not engaged during alertness, how will any deluded thoughts be able to arise? This is the method of removing delusion by recognizing that essence and function are identical.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 130)

九卽體卽用 謂做功夫時 雖冥合眞體 一味空寂 而於中 內隱靈明 乃體卽用也 靈明中 內隱空寂 用卽體也 故永嘉云 惺惺寂寂是 惺惺妄想非 寂寂惺惺是 寂寂無記非 旣寂寂中 不用無記 惺惺中 不用亂想 所有妄心 如何得生 此是卽體卽用滅妄功夫也

Ten: transcend essence and function. This means that when we are practicing, we do not divide the internal and the external. Nor do we discriminate north, south, east, and west. Rather, we take the four quarters and the eight directions and simply transform them all into a great gate to liberation. Clearly then, essence and function are not divided. As there is not the slightest outflow, the entire body becomes fused into one whole. Where, then would delusion be able to arise? … This is the method of extirpating delusion by transcending essence and function.

(Chinul 1991b, p. 131)

十透出體用 謂做功夫時 不分內外 亦不辨東西南北 將四方八面 只作一箇大解脫門 圓陀陀地體用不分 無分毫渗淚 通身打成一片 其妄何處得起 古人云 通身無縫罅 上下忒團圝 是乃透出體用滅妄功夫也

The four aforementioned practices can be understood as absolute approaches to the simultaneous cultivation of “samādhi and prajñā of the self-nature” (chasŏng chŏnghye, 自性定慧). At these stages, cognitive activity is already fully integrated with the true mind, leaving no room for deluded thoughts to arise. Chinul explains that these practices involve dispelling delusion by realizing that internal and external are of the same essence and function, or by recognizing the identity—and ultimately the transcendence—of essence and function. These four methods can be seen as stages of practicing non-duality—the complete dissolution of the distinction between subject and object, or essence and phenomena—that Sŏn Buddhism pursues. Chinul classifies this into four types as follows. First, as explained in the seventh method, the distinction between internal and external disappears, and all manifest phenomena become none other than the very essence of the true mind itself. Second, as described in the eighth method, the distinction between internal and external vanishes, and one views all manifest phenomena as nothing but the marvelous functioning of the true mind. Third, the method explained as the ninth is a practice in which essence and function become completely unified. At this stage, what must be carefully attended to is maintaining stillness within the luminous clarity of awareness—ensuring that the pure and bright awareness does not become entangled in delusive, idle thoughts. One should also avoid falling into a stillness resembling blankness, in which even awareness is absent; rather, this is a stage of practice where luminous awareness and complete tranquility coexist. Finally, the tenth stage is where all distinctions between internal and external, essence and phenomena, substance and function have been thoroughly eliminated—everything becomes one. Chinul describes this as a state that transcends both essence and function altogether. He repeatedly poses the rhetorical question, “Where, then, would delusion be able to arise?” In other words, within these advanced stages of practice, conceptual distinctions are neither present nor necessary, as the practitioner abides in a state of non-dual awareness. From the perspective of forgetting, practitioners engaged in these practices no longer need to make any artificial effort to unite with the true mind—they are already fully integrated with it. This represents the ultimate stage of realizing no-mind, a state in which not even a hair’s breadth of delusion or attachment to signs remains. At this point, the task is simply to observe the functioning and essence of the true mind as it naturally operates through all cognitive activities in response to the myriad phenomena of the universe.

After explaining the ten methods for cultivating no-mind, Chinul adds the following important clarification: it is not necessary to practice all ten methods. Depending on one’s spiritual capacity and karmic tendencies from past lives, the specific method one needs will vary. Therefore, Chinul advises that each practitioner should discern which method they are most attuned to and focus on that one alone. As one’s practice matures, delusion will naturally fade away, and the true mind will immediately reveal itself. He further emphasizes that this kind of practice is effortless—it does not involve force or struggle. In other words, it is a path of non-striving.

This insight resonates with what we previously referred to as Umberto Eco’s paradox of forgetting: the more one tries to cultivate no-mind, the more one’s effort itself reinforces the deluded mind. Trying too hard to empty the mind only colors it more with dualistic and self-based tendencies. Furthermore, since the realm of the true mind lies beyond our conventional, discursive thinking and language, any attempt to reach it through ordinary conceptual logic only leads us further away from it. Thus, as described in the ten methods above, the cultivation of no-mind involves effortless awareness, effortless letting go, and effortless resting. Through this, one forgets both grasping to the self and attachment to phenomena, allowing the empty mind to naturally become one with the true mind. This, Chinul teaches, is the true method of practicing no-mind.

7. Conclusions

So far, we have explored Chinul’s philosophy of forgetting from multiple perspectives. This paper began by briefly introducing Youru Wang’s prior research, which highlights how the concept of forgetting has traditionally been treated in Western philosophy in predominantly negative terms. Wang’s study of Zhuangzi’s philosophy of forgetting challenges this view, showing that forgetting should not be confined to its Western interpretation. The concept of forgetting in Chinul’s Straight Talk on the True Mind shares important parallels with the philosophy of forgetting articulated by Wang through the Zhuangzi. In the Zhuangzi, forgetfulness does not refer to memory loss but to the relinquishment of self-centered concerns and attachments. It entails a shift from resistance to acceptance, enabling one to harmonize with the flow of life and to act spontaneously in accordance with its natural rhythm. While Chinul’s notion of forgetting resonates with this Daoist idea of letting go, he further develops and systematizes the ten methods of cultivating no-mind through Buddhist teachings of both the meditative and doctrinal traditions.

Chinul, having rigorously studied both the Sŏn and doctrinal Hwaŏm teachings—and having sought to reconcile their often-polemical relationship—formulates a distinctive philosophical framework that addresses the tension between non-remembering and no-mind. His articulation of forgetting is deeply rooted in foundational Buddhist teachings such as no-self (anātman) and the Mahāyāna concept of emptiness. Rather than presenting forgetting as a passive state, Chinul develops it into a systematic path of self-cultivation grounded in the integration of self-nature of samādhi and prajñā. At the heart of this process is the relinquishment of habitual thought patterns and self-referential consciousness, enabling a direct, unmediated apprehension of reality.

An intriguing point that emerges in Chinul’s thought is the parallel between the human faculty of faith and the faculty of forgetting. Thus, faith—as the unwavering conviction that one’s mind is already Buddha—can only be achieved through the letting go of doubt. In this context, the act of “forgetting” doubt is not an act of unconscious amnesia but a conscious and deliberate release of certain types of cognitive activity, particularly those rooted in ignorance and deluded conceptualizations. Faith and forgetting, then, are not oppositional but intimately intertwined: to believe fully, one must forget the very doubts and dualistic constructs that obscure the mind’s innate clarity. This practice involves relinquishing both the ignorance of not recognizing one’s true nature and the delusions that perpetuate a false sense of separation—such as the perceived divide between self and Buddha or between the ordinary and enlightened minds. By dissolving these habitual patterns, the practitioner no longer remains ensnared by the conceptual fabrications that veil the true mind. The path thus unfolds from the cognitive processes that generate suffering in saṃsāra toward an awakened state of liberation, culminating in the realization of oneness with all things.

Crucially, if we follow Chinul’s ten methods of cultivating no-mind, the dualistic separation between subject and object is revealed to be a construct of the mind. Recognizing this, the practitioner ceases to reify either pole. Through a deep experiential understanding of true reality, one comes to see that the apparent existence of the object is a projection of the discriminating mind, and thus, one “forgets” the object’s independent existence. In this process, both subject and object are released. Chinul’s teachings on no-mind and forgetting offer profound insights into the transformative dynamics at the heart of East Asian Sŏn Buddhist practice. By dismantling ingrained cognitive habits and conventional modes of perception, practitioners cultivate a state of awareness that allows for direct engagement with an awakened reality associated with the experience of the true mind. At the core of this teaching lies the assertion that the true mind is obscured by patterns of thought rooted in ignorance, which lead us to mistake conditioned, linguistically mediated experience for ultimate truth. Furthermore, when we let go of our attachment to our own perspective, we naturally become more receptive to accepting and embracing life’s circumstances—even those that appear objectively painful. Equally important is that letting go of self-centeredness inevitably helps us to cultivate compassion: a sincere openness to understanding and empathizing with the experiences and minds of others. In this light, the philosophy of forgetting in Chinul’s thought is closely linked not only to an understanding of one’s own suffering, but also to the cultivation of compassion and morality.

Chinul’s philosophy of forgetting thus goes beyond the ordinary function of memory; it implicates the entire structure of human cognition and perception. Forgetting, in this context, entails a profound transformation: it is the intentional letting go of a worldview shaped by linguistic, habitual, and experiential constructs that have been unconsciously accepted since birth. This act of forgetting is grounded in a clear and direct understanding of the mind’s true nature. Through this process, the practitioner encounters the true mind and, with it, a radically restructured way of being in the world—one oriented toward liberation and awakening.