With Nothing to Attain, the Mind is Without Hindrance — The Striking of the Keisu in Soto Zen Buddhism

Lastrevio

9 min read

·

Sep 19, 2026

--

Listen

Share

I had a train of thought today about one of the most well-known texts from ancient Buddhism, the Heart Sutra (“The Heart of the Great Perfection of Wisdom”) — especially in regards to the way it is chanted at the end of every zazen in the Soto Zen tradition. I wanted to share this with everyone else.

For context: The Heart Sutra is an old Buddhist sacred text on the philosophical problem of emptiness (sunyata). I have copied an English translation of the Heart Sutra at the end of this post, for those who have not read it before.

Emptiness, in Nagarjuna’s time, was thought as a “middle-ground” between being and non-being, as well as between existence and non-existence, or between eternalism and nihilism. The doctrine of emptiness negates essentialism and substance ontology, but does not drown in the opposite extreme of ontological nihilism (‘nothing exists, there is no reality’). Thich Nhat Hanh used to say that when we claim something is empty, we explain how it is false to claim it exists, but it is just as wrong to say it does not exist. That thing is in a state in-between existence and non-existence. There is something real in what we call an apple, but it’s devoid of an essence or of a specific “appleness”, because there’s nothing to cling onto or attach to. The boundary between where the apple starts and when it ends (in both space and time) are human conventions, and all objects ultimately rest in a state of inter-being in which they are not separated from their environment and other things. Thus, there is something that exists beneath what we call an apple, but it does not have inherent existence, it does not exist as apple or in-appleness.

The Heart Sutra is not a metaphysical treatise however, as it goes above and beyond this philosophical pondering and showcases implications of behavior/conduct as well. One thing that struck me the most when studying this topic, and that I’ve seen in real life at my zazens as well, is the set of rules that decide when the keisu should be struck during the chant.

As can be seen in the video I linked in the beginning, when the Heart Sutra is chanted in Soto Zen, there are two main responsible people who handle certain instruments. One of them beats the wooden plank called the “han” and the person is often times also called “the han” or “the fukudo”. The other person (which is known in many lineages as the “doan” or the “shuso”) uses a long padded stick to strike a large bronze bowl (the keisu) at certain important moments in the chant.

This specific translation of the Heart Sutra (Maka Hannya Haramita Shingyo) is the old Chinese version that has been transliterated (not translated!) in Japanese. To put it simply: the Japanese people, when reading this Chinese translation of the sutra, did not translate it into their own language, but instead pronounced each Chinese symbol with a Japanese pronunciation, without changing the order of the words. In this translation, the keisu is struck by the shuso in the following moments:

• In the first and last syllable of the sutra
• On the “HA” whenever chanting “HA NYA HA RA MI TA”
• On the syllable “MU” when chanting “MU SHO TOKU KO BO DAI…”
• A bit later, on the syllable “SHIN”, when chanting “KO SHIN MU KE GE…”

The reason the beginning and end of the sutra are accentuated by the sound of the bell are obvious: to signal the start and the end of the chant. The “HA” is also easy to explain: “Hannya Haramita” means “The Perfection of Great Wisdom” and it’s the name of the text that is being chanted, thus the first syllable is accentuated to make everyone aware of what is being chanted, almost in an analogous way to the ‘awakening stick’.

So, this left me wondering: why the “mushotoku” and the “shin mu ke ge”? This is where I had the ideas to write in this essay.

To put it in context, the entire passage looks like this in the Chino-Japanese translation:

MU SHO TOKU KO BO DAI SA TA E HA NYA HA RA MI TA KO SHIN MU KE GE MU KE GE KO…

Which roughly translates to:

With nothing to attain, the Bodhisattva relies on The Perfection of Great Wisdom, and the mind is without hindrance.

Before this part, the sutra spent time negating almost everything that appears to us in our immediate experience: “no form, no sensation, no perception, no formation, no consciousness (…) no object of mind; no realm of sight”, and the list goes on. Almost the entirety of the first half is like this. If the sutra were to stop at this, it would immediately seem nihilistic, or at least a case for ontological nihilism. “Nothing exists, nothing that you think is real is real”. Yet as we’ve said in the beginning, Buddhist metaphysics are neither nihilistic, nor solipsistic, nor a form of subjective idealism of the likes of Fichte. Therefore, what happens after we’ve negated or subtracted all the delusions (bonnos) that appear to us in our immediate experience and that we cling onto: perceptions, mental formations, objects, identities, sense of self?

The Heart Sutra gives us the answer: “With nothing to attain” (the keisu is struck), “a Bodhisattva relies on prajna paramita, and the mind is without hindrance” (the keisu is struck again).

Without hindrance, there is no fear, and one realizes nirvana!

Mushotoku, the mentality of “no goal and no profit”, is a central theme in Soto Zen. Traditionally, zazen is done without a goal and without the hopes of obtaining a specific goal: better sleep, easing anxiety or enlightenment. You engage in seated meditation without expectations, without an object in mind, and observe what happens. Clearly there are many studied medical benefits — of both physical and mental health — but those should not worry the practitioner directly.

This mentality of not expecting anything in return (Mushotoku), or at least not demanding something specific, extends into our daily lives. Master Deshimaru wrote a lot about this. A specific demand or desire increases expectations (which leads to disappointment), as well as increasing attachment: we cling tightly to an idealized version of a possible reality without being open to what’s to come, without letting ourselves be surprised. But more importantly, it increases selfishness and egoism, as we are seeking to obtain something instead of giving something to the Other.

The Heart Sutra says something even more interesting, however: all the bonnos (objects, mental formations, forms, knowledge, etc.) were obstacles or hindrances to the mind. When they are all eliminated, the Bodhisattva has nothing to attain. This is because the bonnos are a source of attachment or clinging, and therefore the form of what we are trying to attain. Even when we have a negative attitude to an object or mental formation (hatred, aversion), that often still implies an attachment. A Lacanian psychoanalyst might say here that hatred is also a form of enjoyment, therefore still indicative of what we are trying to attain, an object-cause of desire.

And then the mind is without hindrance. Nothing is blocking it. The bonnos were repressing something. When I am chanting this part at the end of a zazen, I like to imagine that the mind is a large, agitated river, whose water flows into a tall dam. When the keisu is struck on “Mushotoku”, the dam breaks and the flow of the river is without hindrance. There are no more obstacles to what was trying to come out. Yet, paradoxically, in my imagination this leads to stillness and serenity, to a calmer water, not to agitation. The tension and agitation was created artificially by the dam, and when the dam breaks, things can return to the normal, original condition. You have let go. There is no more inside and outside, the “gateless gate” has opened.

With nothing to attain, there is nothing to search for, and thus there is no more wandering and agitation, no more craving. Without searching, there is stillness. There is no need to run: what you were looking for was already here — either in front of you or inside of you. This is acceptance.

During one of my first zazens, my skin started to itch and I did not scratch myself, as we have to do a gassho before and after every movement, and it would have looked ridiculous. So I probably stayed for about 20 minutes or so, feeling an itch in the exact same spot, resisting the urge to scratch. The first 3–4 minutes were horrible, but after a while my brain started pumping endorphins and I was now abstaining from laughing, smiling like an idiot at the wall. Towards the end I realized: if I scratch myself now, I will temporarily cure this itch, but 30 seconds later another part of my body would start itching. If I scratch that, then I’d realize my knee hurts so I’d switch legs. After I do that, my back would complain and I’d think about how it hurts. No matter which urge I get, I’ll get a temporary satisfaction and I’ll be back chasing my tail again. I can satisfy this specific urge, but I will not satisfy the general feeling of “something is not quite right and I must do something about it” (dukkha). So, why bother? This is what Jacques Lacan called “objet petit a”, the object-cause of desire: an inner lack that we can never fill, always projected on the outside world, taking specific forms.

The forms this object cause of desire takes are what Zen Buddhists call bonnos, and what the Heart Sutra negates in the first half: objects, mental formations, sensations, realm of mind consciousness… The Heart Sutra says: you have an itch you can’t scratch, and the more you scratch it, the more you are distracted. But the moment you stay still, there is nothing left to scratch. With nothing to scratch, there is nothing to seek, and you are no longer running. When you are no longer looking for something, you are no longer distracted, and you are now open to the present moment. Being open to the present moment, one accepts the true nature of reality, the mind is now without hindrance, and one achieves nirvana.

A passing thought reminded me of the concept of “hitting rock bottom” present in popular culture, many hip-hop songs, etc. While there are striking similarities, I see more differences however. The pop wisdom says that when you hit rock bottom, you have lost everything, and thus have nothing left to lose — the only way left is up. Things are so bad that they cannot get worse, so they’ll get better. The Heart Sutra says something different however: when all objects of desire and attachment have disappeared, you have nothing left to gain, instead of nothing to lose. And without anything to gain, the mind is without obstacles — nothing is blocking it anymore, therefore, like a river without a dam, the only way is forward. When you hit rock bottom, the only way is up, but when you rely on the Heart Sutra, the only way is forward, since things progress in their natural direction, no obstacle is staying between an apple and itself, between the mind and itself, between zazen and zazen. The person in rock bottom moves above, the person in nirvana moves forward. What a koan!

Here is the translation of the Heart Sutra I am using:

“Avalokiteshavara Bodhisattva, when deeply practicing prajna paramita, clearly saw that all five aggregates are empty (ku) and thus relieved all suffering. Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness, emptiness itself form. Sensations, perceptions, formations, and consciousness are also like this. Shariputra, all dharmas are marked by emptiness; they neither arise nor cease, are neither defiled nor pure, neither increase nor decrease. Therefore, given emptiness, there is no form, no sensation, no perception, no formation, no consciousness; no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind; no sight, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch, no object of mind; no realm of sight… no realm of mind consciousness. There is neither ignorance nor extinction of ignorance… neither old age and death, nor extinction of old age and death; no suffering, no cause, no cessation, no path; no knowledge and no attainment. With nothing to attain, a bodhisattva relies on prajna paramita, and thus the mind is without hindrance. Without hindrance, there is no fear. Far beyond all inverted views, one realizes nirvana. All Buddhas of past, present and future rely on prajna paramita, and thereby attain unsurpassed, complete, perfect enlightenment. Therefore, know the prajna paramita as the great miraculous mantra, the great bright mantra, the supreme mantra, the incomparable mantra, which removes all suffering and is true, not false. Therefore we proclaim the prajna paramita mantra, the mantra that says: “Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha.” (gone, gone, gone to the other shore, svaha)”