No Fixed Place to Be Found

Sūtra: "Further, Ānanda: how is it that the twelve sense-fields are, at root, the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous, true nature of suchness?"

Commentary: This is the general statement that the twelve sense-fields are the tathāgatagarbha. "Field" (處) means a fixed place, a determinate location. In the provisional teaching of the Dharma-characteristics school, the sense-faculty is said to reside fixedly within and its object fixedly without — the eye faces only form, the ear only sound, and so on — six locations within and six without, making twelve fields, also called the twelve entrances: taking hold of an object, the faculty "enters" the object; receiving an object, the object "enters" the faculty — so it is called, indifferently, both the entrance that enters and the entrance entered into, hence "entrance." Among these six categories, the first two — eye and form, ear and sound, four locations in all — are refuted by way of the faculty and its object mutually depending on each other; body and touch, the two locations there, are refuted solely by way of the faculty; the remaining six locations are all refuted by way of the object alone — leading the listener along step by step, skillfully drawing out the point, so that each and every one of them is shown, in turn, to be false in appearance while true in nature: phenomenon, in its entirety, being exactly principle.

This section on the twelve fields is spoken by the Tathāgata for those whose delusion about matter runs deep while their delusion about mind runs shallow: it expands matter while condensing mind — expanding the single category of matter into the six sense-objects and five sense-faculties, and condensing the four mental aggregates of sensation, perception, formations, and consciousness into the single mental faculty — hence "twelve fields." Faculty and object depend on each other; a later passage says: "faculty and object share a single source; bondage and liberation are not two; confusion is exactly ignorance, and understanding is exactly liberation." What is now being drawn back and harmonized into the tathāgatagarbha nature is meant precisely to bring about this same understanding. The general question is complete.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, look now at this Jeta Grove with its trees and springs and pools — what do you think? Is it that the form gives rise to the eye's seeing, or that the eye gives rise to the appearance of form? Ānanda, if the eye-faculty gives rise to the appearance of form, then, seeing empty space, which is not form, this capacity for form ought to vanish — and once it vanishes, everything manifest becomes nothing at all; with the appearance of form gone, what is left to reveal the substance of emptiness? And so it is with empty space too. And if the object of form gives rise to the eye's seeing, then, observing emptiness, which is not form, this seeing itself ought to vanish — and once it vanishes, everything becomes nothing at all; what, then, is left to reveal either emptiness or form? You should therefore know that seeing and form, and empty space besides, have no location at all — the two fields of form and seeing are false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature."

Commentary: This sets out the two fields of eye and form: "observe" points to the field of the eye; everything else observed points to the field of form. The question is posed in the terms of the provisional teaching, where mind and phenomena are said to give rise to each other: because of phenomena, all manner of mental states arise; because of mind, all manner of phenomena arise. Hence the question: what do you think — does the object of form give rise to the eye's seeing, or does the eye-faculty give rise to the appearance of form? Both possibilities are opened together as the question; what follows refutes them one at a time.

This refutes the claim that the eye gives rise to the appearance of form. Addressing Ānanda directly, the Buddha says: if the eye-faculty within gives rise to the form without, then the eye possesses, as its own nature, the capacity to produce form — and so, at the moment it sees empty space, which is not form at all, this very capacity to produce form ought to vanish along with it. "Everything manifest becomes nothing at all" means: the seeing capable of producing form vanishes, and the form it would have produced vanishes with it — and if the appearance of form is gone, how could empty space itself, its counterpart, still be shown to exist? Hence, "everything manifest becomes nothing at all." "With form gone, what is left to reveal the substance of emptiness" means: emptiness and form show themselves only in contrast to each other; with form gone, emptiness too ought to have nothing left to reveal it. Turned the other way: with no form at all, what is left to reveal emptiness? These two lines simply explain what "everything manifest becomes nothing at all" means. "And so it is with empty space too" extends the same refutation to the claim that the eye gives rise to the appearance of emptiness — since emptiness and form are equally objects the eye faces, the same refutation must apply to both: if the eye-faculty gives rise to the appearance of emptiness, then, at the moment it sees form, which is not emptiness, this capacity for emptiness ought to vanish, and everything manifest becomes nothing at all — with emptiness gone, what is left to reveal the substance of form? To avoid needless repetition, the text simply extends the point: "and so it is with empty space too."

This refutes the claim that form gives rise to the eye's seeing. If the object of form without gives rise to the seeing within, then, at the moment of observing empty space, which is not the appearance of form, this same object of form capable of producing seeing has already ceased — and so the seeing it produced ought to vanish along with it. But once seeing itself has vanished, everything becomes nothing at all; with no capacity to see remaining, who is left to declare this emptiness, that form? Hence: "what is left to reveal either emptiness or form?" Seeing, form, and emptiness are, every one, reduced to nothing whatsoever. By the same pattern as before, one should also supply here: "and so it is with empty space too."

This concludes: for this reason, one should give rise to wisdom and observe directly, coming to understand that the eye-faculty which sees, and the form and emptiness which are seen, have, between them, no fixed location at all. Since the eye does not give rise to form, form has no location; since form does not give rise to the eye, seeing has no location — this shows only that there is no location either within or without. "The two fields of form and seeing are false": the very substance of these two fields, form and seeing, is likewise false — having no substance is called "empty" [虛]; falsely appearing is called "illusory" [妄]. An earlier passage already said: "seeing, and what conditions seeing, are like flowers conjured in space — originally there is nothing there at all." "Originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature" likewise echoes an earlier passage: their true nature is exactly the substance of wondrous, enlightened brightness — never a matter of the causes-and-conditions the provisional vehicle imagines, nor of the spontaneity the non-Buddhist schools imagine; cause-and-condition and spontaneity alike are nothing but empty argument. The field of eye and form is complete.

Sūtra: "Further, Ānanda: how is it that the eighteen elements are, at root, the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous, true nature of suchness?"

Commentary: This is the general question, asking how the eighteen elements are the tathāgatagarbha. The Sanskrit dhātu is rendered "element." "Element" means a boundary: the six sense-faculties, six sense-objects, and six consciousnesses each have their own boundary — the inward capacity that takes hold of an object belongs to the faculty's boundary; the outward object taken hold of belongs to the object's boundary; and the discernment arising in between belongs to consciousness's boundary — three sets of six, eighteen in all, each with its own boundary. "Element" also carries the sense of "cause," cause meaning "dependence," since faculty, object, and consciousness all depend on one another. And "element" also carries the sense of "lineage," since faculty, object, and consciousness each have their own seed and their own family line.

The eighteen elements are taught by the Buddha for those whose delusion runs equally deep about both mind and matter: both mind and matter are expanded here — matter expanded into the six sense-objects and five sense-faculties; mind expanded into the mental faculty and the six consciousnesses — eighteen in all together. The refutation here works by way of the essential component among the three, faculty, object, and consciousness — consciousness being the essential one, so the refutation is directed at consciousness alone. Once the element of consciousness is refuted, the elements of faculty and object no longer stand on their own — like a house of three rooms: tear down only the middle wall, and the boundaries of the two side rooms on either side no longer hold either. Though the refutation is directed at consciousness alone, faculty and object are, in effect, refuted along with it — only their false appearance is refuted; once that false appearance is refuted, the true nature shows itself of its own accord, hence: "at root, the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous, true nature of suchness." The general question is complete.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, as you understand it, eye and form, taken as conditions, give rise to eye-consciousness — but does this consciousness arise dependent on the eye, taking the eye as its basis, or dependent on form, taking form as its basis? Ānanda, if it arises from the eye, then, without form or emptiness present, there is nothing to be discerned at all — even granting that this consciousness of yours exists, of what use could it possibly be? And your seeing itself is not blue, yellow, red, or white — it has nothing to display — so on what basis could an element be established from it? If it arises from form, then, at the moment emptiness is present with no form in it, your consciousness ought to cease — so how could it still discern that this is the nature of emptiness? And if, when form changes, you likewise discern that its appearance has changed, while your consciousness itself does not change along with it, on what basis could an element be established at all? If consciousness changes along with form, then the mark of any boundary vanishes of itself; if it remains constant while arising from form, then, form having changed, it ought no longer to discern where emptiness itself is to be found. And if you claim it arises from both together, eye and form jointly producing it, then, whether joined or separate, its very substance becomes a confused mixture — so how, then, could any element be established from it at all? You should therefore know that eye-consciousness, said to arise from eye and form as conditions, has no location in any of the three — eye, form, and the resulting element of consciousness are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature."

Commentary: The Buddha poses this question in terms of what Ānanda had previously heard from the provisional teaching on causes and conditions: the eye-faculty and the object of form stand opposite each other, mutually serving as each other's condition — the faculty as the dominant condition, the object as the object-condition — and when the two conditions come together, consciousness arises between them, hence "eye-consciousness arises," and thus the three elements come to be formed. Of the three — faculty, object, and consciousness — the question is posed only about consciousness, since this is the refutation by way of the essential component: once consciousness is refuted, all three elements fall away on their own. Continuing the question: does this consciousness arise dependent on the eye-faculty, taking the eye as consciousness's own boundary, called the element of eye-consciousness — or does it arise dependent on the object of form, taking form as consciousness's own boundary, called the element of form-consciousness? The faculty and the object each already have their own distinct name, named after their own respective category, but consciousness alone has none of its own — without attaching it to either faculty or object, there would be no way to distinguish it at all. Most sūtras attach it to the faculty, speaking of "eye-consciousness," "ear-consciousness," and so on; here, in terms of the provisional teaching, since both faculty and object are held capable of giving rise to consciousness, the question is posed with reference to both together.

This refutes the claim that consciousness arises from the eye alone. If this consciousness arises solely from the eye-faculty, taking the eye alone as its boundary, then it would need no form or emptiness at all to depend on. But with no form or emptiness present, there is no object at all to be discerned — the faculty alone cannot give rise to consciousness; and even granting that such a consciousness could arise, without form or emptiness present, what use could it possibly serve? Consciousness functions by discerning its object; with no object present, consciousness has nothing to do. This continues: your own eye-faculty's seeing has, in itself, no shape and no color — it has neither long, short, square, nor round form, nor blue, yellow, red, or white color — nothing at all by which the faculty's own appearance could be displayed. The previous point showed that with no form or emptiness present, the object itself has no location; this point shows that with nothing to display, the faculty itself has no location either — so on what basis could the consciousness arising between them establish any boundary at all?

This refutes the claim that consciousness arises from form alone. If this consciousness arises solely from the object of form, taking form alone as its boundary, then, at the moment of seeing emptiness with no form present, the object of form has already ceased, and your consciousness ought to cease along with it — and once consciousness has ceased, there is nothing left to discern. How, then, at the very moment of seeing emptiness, could it still discern that this is the nature of emptiness? This says that, at the moment form itself changes, you likewise discern that its appearance has already changed — meaning your own consciousness does not change along with form. One persists while the other passes away, with no correspondence between them at all — so on what basis could the element of consciousness be established? This point and the one before it make two distinct points: the previous one shows that if consciousness changes, it could not discern emptiness; this one shows that if it does not change, no boundary could be established.

The first two lines here respond to the point that if consciousness does not change along with form, no boundary could be established, by shifting to the claim that consciousness does change along with form — which is then refuted: if consciousness changes along with form, then form and consciousness both change and cease together, and the mark of any boundary is naturally gone. This — "if it changes, no boundary is established" — is set against the earlier point — "if it does not change, no boundary is established" — the two forming an interlocking pair. The next four lines respond to the point that if consciousness changes along with form, it could not discern emptiness, by shifting to the claim that consciousness does not change along with form — which is likewise refuted: if consciousness does not change along with form, then its nature is constant; yet, constant and unchanging as it may be, this consciousness, having arisen from the object of form, properly has no capacity to know at all, and so ought to be unable to discern where emptiness itself is to be found. Yet it can, in fact, know emptiness — proof enough that consciousness does not arise from form. This — "if it does not change, it cannot discern emptiness" — is set against the earlier point — "if it changes, it cannot discern emptiness" — the two again forming an interlocking pair. This kind of passage is what is called the "interlocking" method [交床法], reaching both ends of the argument at once — a most skillful piece of composition.

Since neither the faculty alone nor the object alone can give rise to consciousness, the argument shifts to claiming that the two arise in combination — which is refuted in turn: if you say eye-faculty and form together give rise to your consciousness, then is it that eye and form arise joined together, or arise separately? [The first pair of words, "joined" and "separate," refer to eye and form; the second pair, "separate" and "joined," refer to eye-consciousness.] If eye and form give rise to consciousness by being joined, then your consciousness is half produced by the faculty and half by the object, with an inevitable seam between the two, since it is not formed as a single whole — like two objects joined together, with a seam where they meet. If eye and form give rise to consciousness by being separate, then your consciousness is half aware and half unaware — the aware half belonging to the eye, the unaware half belonging to form — and this becomes a case of two things merely set side by side. "Its very substance becomes a confused mixture" refers to the substance and nature of consciousness itself: "mixture" answers to the case of joining, where it is half from the faculty and half from the object, blended together, hence "mixture"; "confusion" answers to the case of separating, where it is half joined to the faculty and half joined to the object, forming an unstable jumble, hence "confusion." Being, either way, a confused mixture, how could it possibly form the boundary lying between faculty and object?

Since arising from either alone, or arising from the two together, both fail to hold, one should now understand this in two senses: first, one should understand the falseness — everything up through "has no location in any of the three" concludes that the appearance is false; second, one should understand the truth — the final four lines conclude that the nature is true. As for what has just been said — that eye and form, taken as conditions, give rise to eye-consciousness — examined directly, eye-consciousness arises neither from the eye alone, nor from form alone, nor from the two together; and so the consciousness that would arise between them establishes no boundary at all — how, then, could eye and form outside it still serve as its conditions? With no boundary in the middle, and nothing to be found on either side, hence: "has no location in any of the three." Here "the three" means the three boundaries — since it was said that eye and form, as conditions, give rise to consciousness, and now none of the three elements, eye, form, and consciousness, can be found at all, one should recognize this as nothing but the provisional Dharma-characteristics teaching's own worldly account, with no real substance to it at all. "Eye, and form, and the resulting element of consciousness": the element of consciousness here is named after the object, form. These three — eye, form, and consciousness — are, originally, neither a matter of causes and conditions nor of any spontaneous nature; they are exactly the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous, true nature of suchness. The element of eye-consciousness is complete.