Linji’s teaching cracks open the idea of non-attachment like a thunderclap, jolting students out of comfy conceptual cocoons. Words and doctrines are repeatedly likened to a raft: useful for crossing the stream, then thrown away once the other shore is reached. Clinging to sutras, lineage, or mystical experiences becomes a prison, not a passport.

A signature Linji moment comes with his famous “kill the Buddha” injunction. Far from literal homicide, it’s a dare to ditch every fixed notion—every image of enlightenment, even the Buddha himself—to meet life’s raw, unfiltered reality. When a monk asked about words and letters, Linji barked, “No words, no letters—just sudden transmission outside scriptures!” His shout and slap aren’t random violence but wake-up calls: drop attachments to thoughts, judgments, expectations.

Non-attachment in Linji’s world isn’t about floating serenely above life; it’s fully engaging without getting tangled in drama. Whether a teaching moment arrives via a shout, a punch, or a soft word, the point is the same: stick with direct, vivid experience. Like cutting through the Gordian knot, Linji’s Zen slices through mental clutter, leaving awareness open and alert.

This approach resonates today in an age drowning in digital noise. Scrolling endlessly through feeds, many cling to online personas and trending opinions. Linji’s razor-sharp methods remind that genuine freedom comes when the grip on self-image and ideology loosens. Just as modern mindfulness workshops emphasize “being present,” Linji goes straight for the jugular: presence without baggage, alive in each breath, each moment.

Non-attachment, then, isn’t a distant ideal; it’s a practical, even fierce, invitation to drop the baggage and dance with life’s ever-changing rhythm—no strings attached.