Linji’s teachings hit like a lightning bolt: mind and reality aren’t distant ideals but right under your nose. In the Record of Linji, mind is neither something to polish nor a commodity to trade—it’s already pure, like a mirror untouched by dust. Linji smashes dualistic thinking with shouts, blows, even “Who is dragging this corpse around?”—all pointed at the illusion that thoughts and feelings define who we are.

Reality, in his view, isn’t hidden behind temple walls or ancient sutras. Form and emptiness interweave in every cup of tea, every breath. Linji refuses to let anyone hide behind lofty theories: everyday life is the Way. No separation exists between sitting meditation and washing dishes; each moment reveals the seamless dance of mind and world.

This approach cuts through the noise of modern life—endless notifications, viral trends, the echo chamber of social media. Just as Linji shattered attachment to concepts, it’s possible now to unplug from digital chatter and glimpse reality unfiltered. Mindfulness programs at tech companies may owe a nod to this raw, in-your-face Zen: drop the story, wake up to what’s happening.

Linji also plays with paradox. “A clay tile doesn’t need to be lit, because it’s already bright.” That offbeat metaphor underlines how searching for enlightenment outside immediate experience is like chasing one’s own shadow. Reality can’t be boxed, tagged, or streamed—it’s lived.

His legacy still ripples through Western psychotherapy and meditation apps alike, reminding anyone tangled in anxieties that true clarity comes not from more information but from direct, unmediated encounter with mind’s original face. No sugarcoating, no detours—just a bold invitation to see things as they are.