The Record of Linji presents mind and reality as a single, non-dual field of present functioning that cannot be captured by conceptual thought. Linji’s famous “true person of no rank” is not a hidden essence but the very functioning of awareness that operates through the six senses while never being reducible to body, thoughts, or social identity. This “true person” is always active in ordinary activities—walking, standing, sitting, lying down—yet eludes all attempts at definition or fixation. In this way, the text undermines the tendency to search for a special, separate realm of enlightenment apart from daily life.

Mind, in this discourse, is not an object to be purified or analyzed, but the immediate, aware presence that is “right now listening to the Dharma.” Linji repeatedly warns against reifying “Buddha,” “Dharma,” “mind,” “ordinary,” or “sage” as fixed realities, calling such notions “empty names” that easily become thieves of one’s freedom. Even cherished spiritual ideas, including “Buddha” itself, must be “killed” in the sense of being released as rigid constructs. When attachment to purity and defilement is dropped, the very mind that eats when hungry and sleeps when tired is revealed as Buddha-mind.

Reality, as portrayed here, has no fixed nature; it is the ceaseless, dynamic functioning of phenomena without a solid self or essence. Linji’s use of images such as “host and guest” points to an ungraspable aware functioning (host) and passing conditions (guests), while simultaneously warning against turning even this distinction into a doctrine. Subject and object, sacred and profane, ordinary person and sage are treated as provisional designations rather than ultimate divisions. Enlightenment, therefore, is not a different world but a different way of relating to this very world—free of dependence on concepts, fear, or the need for external authorities.

Throughout the Record, the emphasis falls on directness and immediacy over introspective analysis or scriptural reliance. Attempts to “see the mind” as an object are exposed as already dualistic, since true mind is nothing other than the activity of seeing, hearing, and responding in this very moment. Linji’s sharp words, paradoxes, and confrontational style serve as direct pointers, aiming to cut through second-guessing and self-objectification so that this original, uncontrived presence can stand forth unobstructed. In this way, mind and reality are shown as inseparable, empty of fixed essence yet utterly vivid and self-validating in their thusness.