The Wooden Man Viewing a Painting, the Stone Maiden Dancing

That afternoon, in the forest surrounding the monastery, the last rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, falling upon a courtyard covered with dry leaves. A meditation student sat beneath a bodhi tree, his eyes gazing far into a small stream babbling nearby. He had practiced for nearly ten years, yet his heart still held many questions about what is called the "consciousness aggregate" — the thing his teacher often described as "extremely abstract, the easiest of all to mistake."

He remembered his early days at the temple, when his teacher taught about the five aggregates: form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness. Each aggregate had its own characteristics, but consciousness was the final aggregate, and also the most difficult to understand. His teacher had said: "Many practitioners who reach this point mistakenly believe they have attained liberation, imagining they have realized some lofty enlightenment, not knowing they are merely circling within the consciousness aggregate." He had once read of certain Zen masters, more than a thousand years ago, who mistook the consciousness aggregate for Buddha-nature, harbored a hidden pride, and then fell back down, enduring great suffering.

One day, during sitting meditation, he felt his mind settle in an extraordinary way. All thoughts seemed to stop, leaving only a clear, transparent knowing — wordless, formless. He rejoiced inwardly: "Surely I have realized the true mind!" But then, like a bolt of lightning, he remembered his teacher's words: "The knowing of the consciousness aggregate is very fast, fast like a moment of purity, but without volition and karma, it cannot yet be called mind." He grew uncertain, wondering: "Is this knowing truly me? Or is it just a subtle shell of the consciousness aggregate?"

He went to see his teacher, sitting down on the temple veranda, where yellow leaves were falling here and there. He said: "Venerable teacher, during meditative concentration my mind becomes empty and still — knowing without thinking. Is that the true mind?" His teacher looked at him, smiling gently, and asked in return: "Do you remember the story of the wooden man viewing the painting of the bird?" He shook his head. The teacher told it slowly: "Long ago, there was a Zen master named Pang Longyun. He was a layman, yet he had realized profound enlightenment. One day, someone asked him: 'What is the realm of one who practices meditation like?' He answered: 'Like a wooden man viewing a painting of a bird, and like a stone maiden dancing.'"

"The wooden man viewing the painting of the bird," the teacher explained, "means that a wooden man has no conceptual thinking, no emotions. It sees the painting, but no thought arises in it. The stone maiden dancing is the same — though her body moves, her mind does not waver in the least. That is the seeing of a Zen master: seeing as if not seeing, knowing without clinging."

Hearing this, the meditation student suddenly understood. He realized that the clear knowing he had just experienced was in fact only a form of the consciousness aggregate — pure knowing, without conceptual thought — but if he clung to it, taking it for the true mind, he would fall back into delusion. He exclaimed: "Venerable teacher, so that knowing is not the final goal?" His teacher nodded: "That is right. Knowing is only one part of mind. Mind consists of three things: knowing, volition, and karma. If volition and karma are absent, it is not yet the mind of a sentient being. And if you take that knowing to be the true mind, you have made a mistake. You must continue to practice, letting go of even that knowing, so that the mind becomes like the wooden man, like the stone maiden — seeing as if not seeing, knowing as if not knowing."

From that day on, the meditation student no longer clung to any states of meditative concentration. He quietly continued his practice and his service, carrying water and chopping firewood, living an ordinary life as if nothing had happened. Gradually, his mind became light and at ease. He understood that miraculous powers are in truth nothing but everyday activities, carried out with a mind that does not cling. His life became peaceful and happy, no longer swept along by the illusions of the consciousness aggregate.

The Meaning of the Story

The consciousness aggregate is pure knowing, extremely subtle, and easily mistaken for the true mind. Meditation practitioners must clearly distinguish between the knowing of the consciousness aggregate and the knowing of enlightened intuition. Do not cling to any state whatsoever. Let go of even knowing itself, and live naturally like the wooden man viewing a painting, the stone maiden dancing, so that the mind may attain true purity.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang