The Many Marks of True Liberation

The bodhisattva Kāśyapa then said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, the Buddha has said that every buddha, every World-Honored One, has a secret treasury — but this cannot be right. Why is this? Every buddha, every World-Honored One, has only speech that is hard to fathom, not a treasury that is kept hidden. It is like a puppet-master's mechanical wooden figures: people see them bend, stretch, bow, and rise, yet have no idea what makes them move as they do. The Buddha's own teaching is not like this — it causes every being to know and see it fully. How, then, can it be said that every buddha, every World-Honored One, has a secret treasury?"

The Buddha praised Kāśyapa: "Excellent, excellent, good son! Just as you have said, the Tathāgata truly has no secret treasury at all. Why is this? It is like the full moon in autumn, hanging exposed in open sky, pure and unclouded, seen fully by everyone. The Tathāgata's own words are just the same: laid open and fully exposed, pure and unclouded. It is only the foolish who fail to understand this, and so call it a secret treasury — those who understand it fully would never call it a treasury at all. Good son, it is like a person who has amassed gold and silver to the value of countless millions, but is so miserly at heart that he refuses to give any of it away to rescue the poor — a hoard of this kind is rightly called a secret treasury. The Tathāgata is not like this: throughout boundless kalpas he has amassed a treasure of immeasurable, wondrous dharmas, yet his heart holds no miserliness at all, and he constantly gives it freely to every being — how, then, could this be called the Tathāgata's secret treasury? Good son, it is like a person whose body is missing some faculty — perhaps an eye, a hand, or a foot — who, out of shame, will not let others see it, and it is precisely because others cannot see it that it is called hidden. The Tathāgata is not like this: the whole of the true Dharma he possesses is complete, without any lack, and is shown fully for people to see — how, then, could this be called the Tathāgata's secret treasury? Good son, it is like a poor man deeply in debt to others, who, fearing his creditors, hides himself away and refuses to appear — this is why it is called hidden. The Tathāgata is not like this: he owes no worldly debt to any being at all; though he may be said to owe beings a debt of the transcendent Dharma, even this he does not hide away. Why is this? Because he constantly regards every being as his own single child, and expounds the peerless Dharma for their sake. Good son, it is like an elder who has great wealth but only a single son, whom he cherishes and loves so deeply that he could never bear to part with him, and shows this son every one of his treasures without exception. The Tathāgata is just the same: he regards every being as though each were his own single child."

"Good son, suppose an elder has taught his son the half-letters — will that child then immediately be able to understand the full grammar of the Vyākaraṇa treatise?" "No, World-Honored One." "Does this elder, then, keep some secret treasury from his son?" "No, World-Honored One. Why is this? It is because the child is still young that the father does not yet teach him the full grammar — not because he withholds it out of secrecy or stinginess. Why is this so? Because it is only a mind of jealousy and miserly withholding that could rightly be called keeping a treasury — the Tathāgata is not like this. How, then, could this be called the Tathāgata's secret treasury?" The Buddha said: "Excellent, excellent, good son! Just as you have said. It is only a mind of anger, jealousy, and miserliness that could rightly be called keeping a treasury; the Tathāgata has no anger or jealousy at all — how, then, could this be called keeping a treasury? Good son, that great elder stands for the Tathāgata, and the single son spoken of stands for every being. The Tathāgata regards every being as though each were his own single child; teaching this one child stands for teaching the śrāvaka disciples; the half-letters stand for the ninefold scriptures; and the full grammar of the Vyākaraṇa treatise stands for the scriptures of the Great Vehicle's own vast, expansive teaching. Because the śrāvakas do not yet have the strength of wisdom for it, the Tathāgata teaches them the half-letters of the ninefold scriptures, and does not yet teach them the full grammar of the Great Vehicle's vast teaching. Good son, it is like that elder's son: once he has grown up and is capable of further study, if the father still refuses to teach him the full grammar, this could rightly be called keeping something hidden. If the śrāvakas were already capable of receiving the Great Vehicle's full grammar, and the Tathāgata withheld it out of secrecy and refused to teach it, this could rightly be called the Tathāgata's having a secret treasury. The Tathāgata is not like this, and so the Tathāgata has no secret treasury at all. Just as that elder, having taught the half-letters, goes on next to teach the full grammar, I am just the same: having taught my disciples the half-letters of the ninefold scriptures, I now go on to teach them the full grammar — namely, that the Tathāgata abides permanently, without change."

"Furthermore, good son, it is like the summer months, when great clouds gather and thunder rolls, and heavy rain pours down: farmers who have sown their seed reap an abundant harvest, while those who have not sown gain nothing at all — and this failure to gain anything is no fault of the dragon-king who sent the rain, nor does that dragon-king keep anything hidden either. The Tathāgata is just the same: I now cause the great rain of the Dharma to fall as this great nirvāṇa sūtra; beings who have planted good seeds obtain the fruit of wisdom's sprout, while those without good seeds gain nothing at all — and this is no fault of the Tathāgata's; the Buddha, the Tathāgata, truly keeps nothing hidden at all."

Kāśyapa said further: "I now truly understand that the Tathāgata, the World-Honored One, keeps nothing hidden at all. But what the Buddha calls the 'full grammar' — that the Buddha, the Tathāgata, abides permanently, without change — this cannot be right. Why is this? The Buddha once spoke this verse:

'The buddhas, and the pratyekabuddhas,
and the assembly of their disciples,
all relinquish this impermanent body —
how much more so, then, an ordinary person?'

"Yet now you say: 'He abides permanently, without change.' What does this mean?"

The Buddha said: "Good son, I spoke that verse for the sake of teaching the half-letters to all my śrāvaka disciples. Good son, when King Prasenajit's own mother passed away, he was so overcome with grief and longing that he could not compose himself, and came to where I was. I asked him: 'Great king, why are you so sorrowful and distressed as this?' The king said: 'World-Honored One, the great lady of the kingdom passed away just this day; were there anyone able to restore my mother's life exactly as it was before, I would give up my whole kingdom, my elephants and horses, my seven kinds of treasure, and even my own life, and grant it all to that person.' I said to him further: 'Great king, do not give way to such sorrow, grief, and lamentation — whenever any being's life comes to its end, this is called death. Even the buddhas, the pratyekabuddhas, and the śrāvaka disciples still relinquish this body — how much more so, then, an ordinary person?' Good son, it was for King Prasenajit's sake, in order to teach him the half-letters, that I spoke that verse. What I now teach my śrāvaka disciples is the full grammar — that the Tathāgata abides permanently, without any change. Should anyone now say the Tathāgata is impermanent, how could that person's own tongue not fall out for saying it?"

Kāśyapa said further: "The Buddha has said:

'Without any accumulation at all,
content with whatever food one has —
like a bird flying through open sky,
whose track can never be traced.'

"What does this mean, World-Honored One? Among this very assembly, who can rightly be said to have no accumulation at all? Who can be said to be content with whatever food they have? Who moves through open sky, leaving no track to be traced — and to what place does such a one go?"

The Buddha said: "Kāśyapa, accumulation refers to wealth and possessions. Good son, there are two kinds of accumulation: the conditioned and the unconditioned. Conditioned accumulation belongs to the conduct of the śrāvakas; unconditioned accumulation belongs to the conduct of the Tathāgata. Good son, there are likewise two kinds of saṅgha: the conditioned and the unconditioned. The conditioned saṅgha is called the śrāvaka saṅgha, and this śrāvaka saṅgha holds no accumulation — namely, no servants or other improper possessions, no storehouses of grain, salt, fermented beans, sesame, or beans of any size. Should anyone say that the Tathāgata permits monks to keep servants, attendants, or possessions of this kind, that person's own tongue should shrivel up for saying it. All my śrāvaka disciples are said to have no accumulation, and can likewise be said to be content with whatever food they have. Whoever craves food is said not to be content; whoever does not crave food is said to be content. Whoever leaves a track hard to trace has already drawn near the path of unsurpassed awakening — such a person, I say, though they depart, arrive nowhere at all."

Kāśyapa said further: "If even the conditioned saṅgha has no accumulation, how much more the unconditioned saṅgha? The unconditioned saṅgha is itself the Tathāgata — how, then, could the Tathāgata have any accumulation at all? Accumulation means hoarding something hidden away, and this is precisely why the Tathāgata, in whatever he teaches, holds nothing back at all — how, then, could this be called a treasury? The track that cannot be traced is nirvāṇa itself — within nirvāṇa there is no sun or moon, no stars or constellations, no cold or heat, no wind or rain, no birth, old age, sickness, or death, none of the twenty-five states of existence, and it is free of every sorrow, every suffering, and every affliction. This very nirvāṇa is the Tathāgata's own abode, forever unchanging — and it is for this very reason that the Tathāgata has come here, among these sāla trees, to enter this great nirvāṇa, into parinirvāṇa itself."

The Buddha said to Kāśyapa: "The word 'great' here means vast and expansive in nature — it is like a person of immeasurable life, called a great man. If such a person is able to abide securely in the true Dharma, he is called foremost among people. Consider the eight awakenings of a great person I have taught elsewhere — are they possessed by only a single person, or by many? If a single person possesses all eight in full, that person is the most excellent of all. As for the word 'nirvāṇa,' it means free of every wound and blemish. Good son, it is like a person struck by a poisoned arrow, suffering greatly, who then encounters a skilled physician, who draws out the arrow and applies fine medicine, freeing him from suffering and bringing him ease. This physician then travels through every city and village, and wherever there is affliction, a wound, or a blemish, goes there at once to heal every suffering. Good son, the Tathāgata is just the same: having accomplished perfect awakening, he is a great king of physicians, and, seeing the suffering beings of Jambudvīpa, struck throughout immeasurable kalpas by the poisoned arrows of lust, anger, and delusion, enduring the greatest suffering — for their sake, he teaches the nectar-medicine of the Great Vehicle's own scriptures. Having healed them here, he then goes to other lands where beings are likewise struck by the poisoned arrows of affliction, and there manifests as a buddha, healing them in turn — and this is why he is called the great parinirvāṇa. This great parinirvāṇa is called the place of liberation, and wherever there are beings to be tamed and guided, the Tathāgata manifests himself there — and it is for this true and profound meaning that it is called the great nirvāṇa."

The bodhisattva Kāśyapa said again to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, are worldly physicians able to heal every wound and blemish of every being?" "Good son, worldly wounds and blemishes are of two kinds: those that can be healed, and those that cannot. Whatever can be healed, a physician is able to heal; whatever cannot be healed, a physician cannot heal."

Kāśyapa said further: "As the Buddha has said, the Tathāgata has already healed the beings of Jambudvīpa — but if they have already been healed, why is it that some among them still have not yet attained nirvāṇa? And if they have not all attained it, how can the Tathāgata say his healing here is complete, and that he now wishes to go elsewhere?" "Good son, the beings within Jambudvīpa are of two kinds: those with faith, and those without faith. Those with faith are said to be curable. Why is this? Because they are certain to attain nirvāṇa, free of every wound and blemish — this is why I say my healing of the beings of Jambudvīpa is complete. Those without faith are called icchantikas, and the icchantika is said to be incurable. Except for the icchantika, every other being has already been healed — and this is why nirvāṇa is said to be free of every wound and blemish."

"World-Honored One, what is meant by nirvāṇa?" "Good son, nirvāṇa itself means liberation." Kāśyapa said further: "Is this liberation something with form, or something without form?" The Buddha said: "Good son, in one sense it has form, and in another sense it does not. What is without form is the liberation of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas; what has form is the liberation of every buddha, every Tathāgata. Good son, liberation is therefore both with form and without form — but the Tathāgata, for the sake of his śrāvaka disciples, teaches it as without form."

"World-Honored One, if the liberation of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas is without form, how can it abide anywhere at all?" "Good son, it is like the heaven of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, which is likewise both with form and without form, though I also teach it as without form. Should someone object: 'If the heaven of neither-perception-nor-non-perception is without form, how can it abide, come and go, advance and rest?' — such a matter belongs to the domain of the buddhas alone, and is not known to any śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha. Liberation is just the same: it is both with form and without form, and is taught as without form; it is both with perception and without perception, and is taught as without perception — such a matter belongs to the domain of the buddhas alone, and is not known to any śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha."

The bodhisattva Kāśyapa then said again to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, I beg only that you, out of compassion, once more expound at length the meaning of the conduct of liberation within this great nirvāṇa." The Buddha praised Kāśyapa: "Excellent, excellent, good son! True liberation is called being far removed from every fetter. If true liberation is removed from every fetter, then it has no birth, and no coming together of causes either — for it is like a father and mother coming together to produce a child, and true liberation is not like this at all; this is why liberation is called unborn. Kāśyapa, it is like ghee, whose nature is pure; the Tathāgata is just the same — not born from the union of a father and mother, his nature is pure. The reason he manifests as though he had parents at all is only in order to bring beings across. True liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata's own liberation admits of no duality, no distinction. It is like seeds sown in the spring months, which sprout as soon as they receive warmth — true liberation is not like this at all. Liberation is further called empty of substance: emptiness of substance is itself liberation, liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself empty of substance, not something made by any act of making. Whatever is made is like a city wall, a watchtower, a rampart — true liberation is not like this at all, and this is why liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further the unconditioned dharma: it is like a potter who makes a vessel only to have it break again — liberation is not like this; true liberation is unborn and unceasing, and this is why liberation is itself the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata is just the same: unborn and unceasing, free of old age and death, unbroken and indestructible, not a conditioned thing at all — and it is for this very meaning that he is called the Tathāgata who enters this great nirvāṇa. What is meant by 'free of old age and death'? Old age means undergoing change — hair turning white, the face growing wrinkled; death means the body's own dissolution, life coming to its end. Dharmas of this kind do not exist within liberation, and it is precisely because they do not exist there that it is called liberation. The Tathāgata likewise has no whitening hair, no wrinkling face, no conditioned dharma of this kind at all — this is why the Tathāgata has no old age; and having no old age, he likewise has no death. Liberation is further called free of illness: illness means the four hundred and four diseases, and every other affliction that comes from outside to harm the body — and because none of this exists there, it is called liberation. Being free of illness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata; the Tathāgata has no illness, and so the Dharma-body likewise has no illness — this very freedom from illness is itself the Tathāgata. Death means the body's dissolution, life coming to its end; where there is no death, this is itself the nectar of immortality, and this very nectar is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Since the Tathāgata has accomplished virtues such as these, how could it be said that the Tathāgata is impermanent? To say he is impermanent could not possibly be right. This is the vajra body — how could it be impermanent? This is why the Tathāgata is not said to have his life come to its end. The Tathāgata is pure, free of any defilement; the Tathāgata's own body was never sullied by any womb, but is, like the white lotus, pure in its very nature. The Tathāgata's own liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata — this is why the Tathāgata is pure, free of any defilement. Liberation is further one in which every outflow, every wound and blemish, is left with nothing whatsoever remaining; the Tathāgata is just the same, free of every outflow, every wound and blemish. Liberation is further one in which there is no contention at all — it is like a starving person who, seeing another's food, gives rise to the thought of seizing it by force; liberation is not like this at all. Liberation is further called stillness: ordinary people say that Maheśvara is what stillness means, but such a claim is entirely false — true stillness is final and complete liberation, and this final and complete liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called security: a place infested with many robbers cannot be called secure, only a place that is calm and settled can be called secure. Within this liberation there is no fear at all, and this is why it is called security — and this very security is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further one that has no equal or peer — having an equal is like one king having a rival kingdom of equal standing. Liberation is not like this at all; having no equal or peer is like a wheel-turning sage-king, whom no one is able to match as an equal. Liberation is just the same, having no equal or peer — and this very absence of any equal is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata, the king who turns the wheel of the Dharma; this is why the Tathāgata has no equal or peer at all, and to say he has one could not possibly be right. Liberation is further called free of sorrow — one who has sorrow is like a king who fears a powerful neighboring kingdom and thereby gives rise to sorrow. True liberation has nothing of this kind at all; it is like an enemy already destroyed, leaving no cause for worry — liberation is just the same, entirely free of sorrow and fear, and this very freedom from sorrow and fear is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further one with neither sorrow nor joy — it is like a woman with only a single son, sent away on some distant errand, who suddenly receives grim news of him and is filled with grief, only to hear later that he is alive after all, and is filled with joy. Within liberation there is nothing of this kind at all; this very freedom from sorrow and joy is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further free of dust and defilement — it is like the spring months, when, after the sun sets, the wind rises and stirs up dust and haze; within liberation there is nothing of this kind at all, and this very freedom from dust and haze is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is like the bright jewel set in a sage-king's own topknot, free of any blemish — the nature of liberation is just the same, free of any blemish, and this very freedom from blemish is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is like the nature of true gold, unmixed with sand or stone, rightly called a true treasure, so that whoever obtains it thinks at once of wealth — the nature of liberation is just the same, like that true treasure, and this true treasure is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is like a clay vessel, which, when struck, gives off a cracked, hollow sound — a vessel of vajra is not like this at all; liberation likewise gives off no such cracked sound, and a vajra vessel is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata — this is why the Tathāgata's own body is indestructible. As for that cracked sound — it is like a castor-oil seed, which, placed out in the blazing heat of the sun, bursts open with a loud crack; liberation has nothing of this kind at all, but is like that true vessel of vajra, giving off no cracked, breaking sound, even were hundreds of thousands of people to shoot arrows at it all together, unable to destroy it — and this very absence of any cracking sound is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is like a poor person, in debt to others, bound by that debt, placed in chains and punished, enduring every bitter suffering; within liberation there is nothing of this kind at all, no debt whatsoever — it is like an elder possessed of countless millions in wealth, sovereign and free, owing nothing to anyone. Liberation is just the same, possessed of immeasurable treasures of the Dharma, sovereign and free, owing nothing to anyone at all — and this very freedom from debt is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called free of oppression — it is like traveling through heat in spring, eating something too sweet in summer, or being touched by cold in winter; true liberation has none of these disagreeable things, and this very freedom from oppression is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata.

"Freedom from oppression is further like a person who, having eaten his fill of fish and meat, then drinks milk on top of it, and is thereby brought close to death before long. True liberation has nothing of this kind at all — and should such a person obtain the fine medicine of nectar, his affliction would be entirely removed. True liberation is just the same, and this nectar-medicine is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. What is meant by oppression, and freedom from oppression? It is like an ordinary person, arrogant and self-important, who thinks to himself: 'Who in this whole assembly could possibly harm me?' and so goes about carrying snakes, tigers, and venomous creatures — such a person, you may be sure, will meet a violent death long before his natural lifespan is complete. True liberation has nothing of this kind at all. Freedom from oppression is further like a wheel-turning king's own sacred jewel, able to subdue dung beetles and ninety-six kinds of venomous creature — whoever catches even the scent of this sacred jewel finds every poison instantly dissolved. True liberation is just the same, entirely free of the twenty-five states of existence, and this very dissolving of poison is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Freedom from oppression is further like open space itself; liberation is just the same, and this open space is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Oppression, on the other hand, is like dry grass near a burning lamp, which catches fire the moment it draws close; true liberation has nothing of this kind at all. Freedom from oppression is further like the sun and moon, which press upon no being at all; liberation is just the same, exerting no oppression upon any being, and this very freedom from oppression is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the unmoving dharma, unlike the distinction between friend and enemy; true liberation has nothing of this kind at all. Unmovingness is further like a wheel-turning king, who has no other sage-king as his own personal friend — for there to be such a friend could not possibly be so. Liberation is just the same, having no friend at all; for there to be such a friend could likewise not possibly be so — and this very absence of a friend in that king is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Unmovingness is further like plain, undyed cloth, which readily takes on any color when dyed; liberation is not like this at all. Unmovingness is further like the vāsantī flower, which could never be made to give off a foul smell or turn blue in color; liberation is just the same — for it to give off a foul smell or take on any other color could not possibly be so; this is why liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called rare and wondrous — it is like a lotus growing in water, which is not itself something rare, but a lotus growing out of fire, which is indeed rare, and whoever sees it is filled with joy. True liberation is just the same — whoever sees it gives rise to joy in their heart; that very rarity is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma-body. Rarity is further like an infant whose teeth have not yet come in, which grow in only gradually as the child matures; liberation is not like this at all — it has nothing of arising or not yet having arisen.

"Liberation is further called empty stillness, having nothing that remains undetermined. As for what is undetermined — it could not possibly be so that the icchantika remains forever and finally unmoved, or that one who has committed a grave transgression can never accomplish the path to buddhahood. Why is this? If such a person gives rise, within the Buddha's own true Dharma, to a mind of pure faith, the icchantika-condition is at once extinguished in them; and should such a person then become an upāsaka, the icchantika-condition can likewise be cut off and extinguished; and should one who has committed a grave transgression extinguish that very transgression, that person too can attain buddhahood. This is why it could not possibly be so to say that such conditions are forever and finally fixed, unable to attain buddhahood. True liberation has nothing whatsoever of such utter finality within it. Emptiness and stillness are further said to fall within the Dharma-realm — and the very nature of the Dharma-realm is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. If the icchantika-condition can indeed be entirely extinguished, then such a person can no longer properly be called an icchantika at all. What, then, is meant by the term icchantika? An icchantika is one who has cut off and extinguished every root of goodness, whose fundamental mind clings to no wholesome dharma at all, not giving rise to even a single thought of goodness. True liberation has nothing of this kind within it at all, and it is precisely because it has nothing of this kind that it is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called immeasurable — it is like a heap of grain, whose quantity can be known; true liberation is not like this at all, but is like the great ocean, impossible to measure — liberation is just the same, impossible to measure, and this very immeasurability is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called a dharma without limit — it is like a single being who has many different karmic retributions; liberation is just the same, having limitless retributions, and this very limitlessness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called vast and expansive — it is like the great ocean, which has nothing equal to it; liberation is just the same, having nothing equal to it, and this very absence of an equal is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the highest — it is like open space, higher than anything, beyond compare; liberation is just the same, higher than anything, beyond compare, and this very incomparable height is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called that which nothing can surpass — it is like the place where a lion dwells, which none of the hundred beasts can ever surpass; liberation is just the same, surpassed by nothing at all, and this very insurpassability is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called peerless — it is like the north, foremost among all directions; liberation is just the same, having nothing above it, and this very peerlessness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called beyond the peerless itself — it is like the north in relation to the east, beyond even what is peerless; liberation is just the same, having nothing beyond the peerless, and this itself is true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the constant dharma — it is like a god or a human whose body dissolves and whose life ends, and this very dissolution is itself called constant, not something inconstant; liberation is just the same, never inconstant, and this very constancy is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called firm and substantial — it is like acacia wood or aloeswood, whose nature is firm and substantial; liberation is just the same, its nature firm and substantial, and this very firmness of nature is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called not empty — it is like bamboo or reed, whose stalks are hollow inside; liberation is not like this at all — one should understand that liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called free of any stain — it is like a wall not yet plastered, upon which mosquitoes and gnats settle and play, but which, once plastered and painted with fine colors, no longer attracts these insects, who, catching the scent of the paint, no longer settle there at all; this very not-settling is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called boundless — it is like a village, which always has some boundary marking its edge; liberation is not like this at all, but is like open space, without any boundary at all — liberation is just the same, without any boundary, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called invisible — it is like a bird's track through open sky, difficult to see at all; this very difficulty of seeing is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called exceedingly profound — why is this? Because no śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha is able to enter it, and this very inability to enter it is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. This profundity is further something every buddha and bodhisattva reveres — it is like a filial child's own offering to his parents, whose merit runs exceedingly deep; this very depth of merit is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called invisible in another sense — it is like a person who cannot see the crown of his own head; liberation is just the same, unable to be seen by any śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha, and this very inability to be seen is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called without any dwelling — it is like open space, which has no dwelling at all; liberation is just the same — the word 'dwelling' here stands for the twenty-five states of existence, and this very absence of a dwelling is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called ungraspable — it is like the āmalaka fruit, which a person can pick up and hold; liberation is not like this at all, ungraspable in every way, and this very ungraspability is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called unable to be seized — it is like a conjured illusion, which cannot be seized and held; liberation is just the same, unable to be seized, and this very inability to be seized is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further one that has no body at all — it is like a person whose body breaks out in wounds, blemishes, boils, madness, and withering decay; true liberation has no such illness at all, and this very freedom from such illness is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called a single flavor — it is like milk, which has but a single flavor; liberation is just the same, having only a single flavor, and this very single flavor is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called pure — it is like water free of mud, calm, settled, and clear; liberation is just the same, calm, settled, and clear, and this very calm clarity is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called a single flavor in another sense — it is like rain falling from the sky, a single, pure flavor; this single, pure flavor is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called clearing away — it is like the full moon, free of every cloud; liberation is just the same, free of every cloud, and this very freedom from cloud is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called stillness — it is like a person whose fever has been cured, whose body has become still; liberation is just the same, the body becoming still, and this very stillness of body is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further itself equanimity — it is like a venomous snake and a weasel in a wild field, both harboring the intent to kill; liberation is not like this at all, harboring no intent to kill, and this very freedom from the intent to kill is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Equanimity is further like parents whose hearts regard their children equally; liberation is just the same, its own mind entirely equal, and this very equanimity of mind is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called having no other place — it is like a person who dwells only in the finest, purest dwelling, with no other place at all; liberation is just the same, having no other place, and this very absence of any other place is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called contentment — it is like a starving person who comes upon a fine feast and eats without ever feeling satisfied; liberation is not like this at all, but is like eating a bowl of rice-milk, after which nothing further is needed at all — this very absence of any further need is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called cutting off — it is like a person who has been bound, who cuts the binding and is freed; liberation is just the same, cutting off every doubt and every fetter of the mind, and this very cutting off of doubt is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called reaching the far shore — it is like a great river, having a near shore and a far shore; liberation is not like this at all — though it has no near shore, it does have a far shore, and this very having of a far shore is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called silence — it is like the great ocean, whose waters surge and roar with every kind of sound; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called delicious — it is like a medicine mixed with harītakī, whose flavor is bitter; liberation is not like this at all, its flavor like nectar, and this very flavor of nectar is a likeness for true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further one that removes every affliction — it is like a skilled physician who compounds every kind of medicine, well able to heal every illness; liberation is just the same, able to remove every affliction, and this very removal of affliction is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called without confinement — it is like a small dwelling, unable to hold many people; liberation is not like this at all, able to hold and receive without limit, and this very unlimited capacity is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the extinguishing of every craving, unmixed with lust — it is like a woman filled with every kind of craving and desire; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, the Tathāgata being just so, free of craving, anger, delusion, arrogance, and every other fetter. Liberation is further called free of attachment — attachment is of two kinds: the attachment of a hungry ghost, and the attachment of the Dharma. True liberation is free of the hungry ghost's attachment, but, out of compassion for beings, holds the attachment of the Dharma — and this very attachment to the Dharma is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further free of self and of what belongs to a self, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further itself utter extinction, free of every craving tied to existence, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further itself rescue and protection, able to save all who are afraid, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further itself a refuge: whoever takes refuge in this liberation seeks no other refuge at all — it is like a person who relies on a king and seeks no other reliance, and yet, even relying on a king, still remains subject to change. Whoever relies on liberation is subject to no such change at all, and this very freedom from change is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further called a dwelling — it is like a person traveling through the wilderness, who meets with danger and hardship there; liberation is not like this at all, free of any danger or hardship, and this very freedom from danger is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further itself fearlessness — it is like the lion king, who feels no fear before any of the hundred beasts; liberation is just the same, feeling no fear before any host of māras, and this very fearlessness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further one with no confinement at all — it is like a narrow path, too narrow even for two people to walk abreast; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is further without confinement in another sense — it is like a person who, fleeing a tiger, falls into a well instead; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. It is further without confinement in yet another sense — it is like someone at sea who abandons a broken, small boat for a sound, sturdy one, and, riding it across the ocean, arrives at a place of safety, the heart filled with joy; liberation is just the same, the heart filled with joy, and this very joy is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further one that uproots every causal chain — it is like how milk gives rise to curds, curds to butter, and butter to ghee; true liberation has no such causal chain within it at all, and this very absence of causal chain is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further able to subdue arrogance — it is like a great king who looks down with arrogance upon a lesser king; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself the Dharma. Liberation is further able to subdue every heedlessness — for one who is heedless is said to have much craving; true liberation has no such name attached to it at all, and this very absence of the name is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata.

"Liberation is further able to remove ignorance — it is like the finest ghee, having removed every impure sediment, that comes to be called ghee at all; liberation is just the same, removing the sediment of ignorance and giving rise to true clarity, and this very true clarity is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called stillness, single and without a second — it is like a lone elephant roaming the open wilderness, solitary, without a companion; liberation is just the same, single and without a second, and this very solitary oneness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called firm and substantial — it is like bamboo, reed, or the castor plant, whose stalks are hollow inside yet whose seeds are firm and substantial; except for the Buddha, the Tathāgata, every other being among gods and humans is not firm and substantial in this way — true liberation, being far removed from every stream of existence, is just this same firmness, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called that which fully awakens, and enriches the true self — true liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the relinquishing of all existence — it is like a person who, having eaten, then vomits it back up; liberation is just the same, relinquishing all existence, and this very relinquishing of existence is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called determinate — it is like the fragrance of the vāsantī flower, absent from the flower's own seven petals; liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the great element of water — it is like the element of water, foremost among the great elements, able to moisten every plant, tree, and seed; liberation is just the same, able to nourish every kind of living being, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called an entryway — it is like a doorway that opens onto a road leading to a place where gold is found, so that gold can then be obtained; liberation is just the same, like that very doorway — whoever cultivates the absence of self is able to enter through it, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called that which is good — it is like a student who follows his teacher and skillfully upholds his instruction, and is thereby called good; liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata.

"Liberation is further called a dharma transcending the world, surpassing every other dharma — it is like how, among every flavor, ghee and milk are the finest; liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called unmoving — it is like a threshold that the wind cannot move; true liberation is just the same, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called free of surging waves — it is like the great ocean, whose waters surge and roll; liberation is not like this at all, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further like a palace hall; liberation is just the same — one should understand that liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called that which is put to use — it is like Jambūnada gold, put to use in countless ways, with no one able to name any fault in this gold at all; liberation is just the same, without any fault at all, and this very freedom from fault is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further the relinquishing of infant conduct — it is like an adult who has relinquished a small child's own ways; liberation is just the same, relinquishing the five aggregates, and this very relinquishing of the aggregates is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called final completion — it is like one who was bound, freed from that binding, who bathes and becomes clean, and only then returns home; liberation is just the same, finally and completely pure, and this very final purity is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the joy of no further striving — this joy of no further striving means the vomiting-up of craving, anger, and delusion; it is like a person who has mistakenly drunk snake venom, and, in order to expel the poison, takes an emetic, and, having vomited, is entirely cured of the poison and finds ease in his body. Liberation is just the same — vomiting up affliction, every fetter, and the poison that binds one, the body finds ease, and this is called the joy of no further striving, and this very joy of no further striving is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the severing of the four kinds of poisonous serpent, that is, affliction itself — and this very severing of affliction is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata.

"Liberation is further called being free of all existence, extinguishing every suffering and attaining every bliss, forever cutting off craving, anger, and delusion, uprooting the very root of every affliction — and this very uprooting is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called the cutting off of every conditioned dharma, giving rise to every undefiled, wholesome dharma, and severing every blocked path — whether self, no-self, neither-self-nor-no-self — cutting off only clinging and attachment, but not cutting off the view that there is a self; for this very view of a self is what is called buddha-nature, and buddha-nature is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called not an empty emptiness — an empty emptiness means having nothing at all, which is the liberation conceived of by the Nirgrantha ascetics and other heterodox teachers; since these Nirgranthas have in truth no liberation at all, theirs is called an empty emptiness. True liberation is not like this at all, and so is not an empty emptiness — this very not-being an empty emptiness is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called empty and not empty. It is like vessels for water, wine, curds, ghee, or honey: even when there is no water, wine, curds, ghee, or honey in them, they are still called by those very names — and one cannot properly say of such vessels that they are simply empty, or simply not empty. If one says they are empty, then they could not possess color, fragrance, flavor, or texture at all; if one says they are not empty, then there is in fact no water, wine, or the like actually within them. Liberation is just the same: one cannot say it has form, nor that it is without form; one cannot say it is empty, nor that it is not empty. If one says it is empty, then it could not possess permanence, bliss, self, and purity at all; if one says it is not empty, then who is it that receives this permanence, bliss, self, and purity? For this very reason, one cannot say it is empty, nor that it is not empty. 'Empty' here means free of the twenty-five states of existence and every affliction, every suffering, every mark, and every conditioned formation — like a vessel with no curds in it, this is called empty. 'Not empty' means the true and genuine form, permanence, bliss, self, and purity, unmoving and unchanging — like that very vessel's own color, fragrance, flavor, and texture, this is called not empty. Liberation may thus be likened to that vessel — except that an ordinary vessel, given the right conditions, can be broken; liberation is not like this at all, and cannot be broken — this very unbreakability is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. Liberation is further called free of craving — it is like a person whose heart craves and longs for Śakra, the Great Brahmā King, or Maheśvara; liberation is not like this at all — once one has accomplished unsurpassed, complete awakening, there is no craving and no doubt left at all, and this very freedom from craving and doubt is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. To say that liberation still harbors craving or doubt could not possibly be right. Liberation further cuts off every craving tied to existence, cutting off every mark, every fetter, every affliction, all of birth and death, every causal condition, and every karmic result — and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata is himself nirvāṇa. Every being, out of fear of birth and death and of every affliction, takes the three refuges — it is like a herd of deer, fearing a hunter, who, once they have escaped him, leap away: a single leap is a likeness for a single refuge, and these three leaps together are a likeness for the three refuges; through these three leaps they find safety and ease. Beings are just the same: out of fear of the four māras, that evil hunter, they take the three refuges, and through these three refuges they attain ease — and this very attainment of ease is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata is himself nirvāṇa; nirvāṇa is itself the inexhaustible; the inexhaustible is itself buddha-nature; buddha-nature is itself the determinate; and the determinate is itself unsurpassed, complete awakening."

The bodhisattva Kāśyapa said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, if nirvāṇa, buddha-nature, the determinate, and the Tathāgata are all a single meaning, then why is it said that there are three refuges?" The Buddha said to Kāśyapa: "Good son, every being, out of fear of birth and death, seeks the three refuges, and it is through these three refuges that one comes to know buddha-nature, the determinate, and nirvāṇa. Good son, there are dharmas whose names are one but whose meanings differ, and there are dharmas whose names and meanings both differ. As for names being one while meanings differ: the Buddha is permanent, the Dharma is permanent, the assembly of monks is permanent, and nirvāṇa and space are likewise permanent — this is a case of the name being one while the meanings differ. As for names and meanings both differing: the Buddha is named awakening, the Dharma is named non-awakening, the Saṅgha is named harmony, nirvāṇa is named liberation, and space is named neither wholesome nor unwholesome, and also named unobstructed — this is a case where both name and meaning differ. Good son, the three refuges are just the same, differing in both name and meaning — how, then, could they be called one and the same thing? This is why I once said to Mahāprajāpatī: 'Gautamī, do not make offerings to me — make offerings to the saṅgha instead. If you make offerings to the saṅgha, you will thereby fulfill the offering of all three refuges at once.' Mahāprajāpatī answered me: 'Neither the Buddha nor the Dharma is present within the saṅgha — how, then, can it be said that making offerings to the saṅgha fulfills the offering of all three refuges at once?' I said to her further: 'Your following my own instruction is itself an offering to the Buddha; your doing so for the sake of liberation is itself an offering to the Dharma; and the saṅgha's own acceptance of your offering is itself an offering to the Saṅgha.' Good son, this is why the three refuges cannot be treated as a single thing. Good son, the Tathāgata sometimes speaks of one thing as three, and of three things as one — such a matter belongs to the domain of the buddhas alone, and is not known to any śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha."

Kāśyapa said further: "The Buddha has taught that nirvāṇa is called final and complete bliss — what does this mean? If nirvāṇa means relinquishing the body and relinquishing knowledge itself, who is left to receive this bliss?" The Buddha said: "Good son, it is like a person who, after eating, feels sick at heart, and goes outside to vomit; having vomited, he then returns inside. His companion asks him: 'Has whatever ailed you now been cured, that you have come back inside?' He answers: 'It is cured — I now feel at ease in my body.' The Tathāgata is just the same: having finally and completely left behind the twenty-five states of existence, he permanently attains the place of ease and bliss that is nirvāṇa, unmoving and unchanging, with nothing left to come to an end, every act of receiving cut off — and this is called the bliss of no receiving. This very absence of receiving is called permanent bliss; to say that the Tathāgata still receives some bliss could not possibly be right. This is why final and complete bliss is itself nirvāṇa, nirvāṇa is itself true liberation, and true liberation is itself the Tathāgata."

Kāśyapa said further: "Is being unborn and unceasing itself liberation?" "It is so, it is so, good son. Being unborn and unceasing is itself liberation, and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata." Kāśyapa said further: "If being unborn and unceasing is itself liberation, then the very nature of empty space, likewise unborn and unceasing, should also be the Tathāgata — just as the Tathāgata's own nature is itself liberation." The Buddha said to Kāśyapa: "Good son, this is not so." "World-Honored One, why is this not so?" "Good son, the kalaviṅka bird and the jīvaṃjīvaka bird have voices of the purest, most subtle beauty — could these possibly be compared to the cawing of a crow or magpie?" "No, World-Honored One. The voice of a crow or magpie is not comparable to that of the jīvaṃjīvaka bird, not even by a factor of a hundred thousand million." Kāśyapa said further: "Since the kalaviṅka's voice is so subtle and fine, and its body is likewise unlike a crow's, how could the Tathāgata be compared to a crow or magpie at all? It would be no different from comparing a mustard seed to Mount Sumeru. The Buddha and empty space are just the same — the kalaviṅka's voice may be likened to the Buddha's own voice, but it cannot be likened to the cawing of a crow or magpie."

The Buddha then praised the bodhisattva Kāśyapa, saying: "Excellent, excellent, good son! You have now grasped well something profound and difficult to understand. The Tathāgata, at times, for a particular reason, draws on the likeness of empty space to illustrate liberation — and this very liberation is itself the Tathāgata. True liberation has no equal among any being, god or human, and this empty space is, in truth, no fitting likeness for it at all; it is only for the sake of bringing beings across that space, itself no true likeness, is used as a likeness. You should understand that liberation is itself the Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata's own nature is itself liberation — liberation and the Tathāgata admit of no duality, no distinction. Good son, as for what is not a fitting likeness — a thing that is truly beyond comparison cannot properly be illustrated by any likeness at all, though for a particular reason a likeness may still be drawn. It is as the scriptures say: a handsome face is like the moon at its fullest; a white elephant, pure and radiant, is like a snow-capped mountain — yet the full moon is not thereby identical to a face, nor is a snow mountain thereby identical to a white elephant. Good son, one cannot properly illustrate true liberation through any likeness at all — a likeness is drawn only for the sake of bringing beings across. It is through likenesses of this kind that the nature of every dharma is come to be known — every such case is just the same as this."

Kāśyapa said further: "How is it that the Tathāgata speaks in two different ways?" The Buddha said: "Good son, suppose a person, sword in hand, filled with murderous intent, sets out to kill the Tathāgata; and the Tathāgata, calm and at ease, shows no trace of anger or resentment at all. Would this person, in striking the Tathāgata's body, thereby commit one of the acts of gravest transgression?" "No, World-Honored One. Why is this? Because the Tathāgata's own bodily nature cannot be destroyed at all. Why is this so? Because there is, in truth, no aggregate body there to begin with — only the Dharma-nature. The Dharma-nature's own nature cannot, by its very principle, be destroyed — how, then, could this person possibly destroy the Buddha's body? It is only by the malice in his own heart that he brings the offense of unmediated retribution upon himself. It is through likenesses such as this that the true nature of things comes to be known." The Buddha then praised the bodhisattva Kāśyapa: "Excellent, excellent, good son! What I myself wished to say, you have already said."

"Furthermore, good son, suppose an evil man wishes to kill his own mother, and lies in wait beneath a haystack in an open field. His mother comes bringing him food; seeing her, he at once conceives the intent to kill, and moves forward, sharpening his blade. His mother, sensing this in time, flees and hides herself within the haystack. The man, sword in hand, circles the haystack and hacks at it on every side; having finished, he rejoices, believing he has already killed her. His mother then emerges from the haystack behind him and returns safely home. What do you think — has this man thereby committed the offense of unmediated retribution?" "No, World-Honored One — this cannot be stated with certainty either way. Why is this? If it is said he is guilty, his mother's body should have been destroyed; but since her body was not destroyed, how can he be said to be guilty? If it is said he is not guilty, he nonetheless believed he had killed her, and his heart was filled with joy at the thought — how, then, can he be said not to be guilty? Though this man has not fully accomplished the offense of unmediated retribution, his act is nonetheless of that very nature. It is through likenesses such as this that the true nature of things comes to be known." The Buddha praised Kāśyapa: "Excellent, excellent, good son! It is for this very reason that I teach every kind of skillful likeness in order to illustrate liberation. Though I draw on immeasurable, countless likenesses, liberation truly cannot be captured by any likeness at all. In some cases a likeness may still be drawn for a particular reason; in others no likeness can be drawn at all — and it is in this way that liberation comes to accomplish immeasurable virtues such as these. Whoever sets out toward nirvāṇa, nirvāṇa itself, and the Tathāgata likewise possess immeasurable virtues such as these — and it is because these immeasurable virtues are accomplished in full that it is called the great nirvāṇa."

The bodhisattva Kāśyapa said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, I now understand for the first time that the place the Tathāgata reaches is without any limit at all. If that place is without limit, one should understand that his lifespan must likewise be without limit." The Buddha said: "Excellent, excellent, good son! You are now well able to protect and uphold the true Dharma. Any good son or good daughter who wishes to cut off every affliction and every fetter should protect and uphold the true Dharma in just this way."