Every Spark Can Burn Down a Forest

Sūtra: Ānanda said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, the Tathāgata has always taught that all the world's various transformations come about through the combination of causes and conditions — through the combining of the four great elements. Why, then, does the Tathāgata now reject both causes-and-conditions and spontaneity alike? I do not know where this teaching belongs. I beg only that you, in compassion, reveal to sentient beings the middle way, the teaching of complete meaning, free of empty argument." At that time the World-Honored One said to Ānanda: "You once turned away from the teachings of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, resolving to seek unsurpassed bodhi — and so I now reveal to you the ultimate truth. Why, then, do you again entangle yourself in the world's empty arguments and deluded talk of causes and conditions? Though you are learned, you are like a person who can recite the names of medicines but cannot recognize the real medicine when it is right in front of him — the Tathāgata truly calls this pitiable! You should now listen closely: I will explain and reveal this to you, point by point, so that those who cultivate the Great Vehicle in ages to come may also penetrate through to true reality." Ānanda fell silent, receiving the Buddha's sacred instruction with his whole attention.

Commentary: This arises from Ānanda clinging to the provisional teaching while doubting the real one: clinging to what he once heard of the provisional teaching on causes and conditions, he now doubts the teaching of complete meaning being spoken here. Ānanda's attachment to causes and conditions had already been refuted, together with spontaneity, back in the ninth display of seeing, where seeing was shown to surpass every category. But Ānanda only grasped that the wondrous, enlightened, bright nature is not a matter of causes and conditions combining — his attachment to causes and conditions combining, as an explanation for the appearances of the world, remained exactly as before. And so, hearing the Buddha say, of each of the four categories of worldly phenomena in turn, that none of them is a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity, his doubt rose up again, and he asks once more. When the Buddha first established his teaching, he took causes and conditions as its guiding principle, in order to refute the non-Buddhist schools' spontaneity. But this was only the Tathāgata's skillful expedient at the time, using the correct principle of causes and conditions to refute the false teachings of the non-Buddhist schools; it was never the account given by the Great Vehicle's teaching of complete meaning. This sūtra, however, is precisely that teaching of complete meaning — and Ānanda, failing to grasp this point, clings to the provisional teaching while doubting the real one.

The four lines "all the world's various transformations" point back to the appearances covered by the four categories just harmonized — the whole of conditioned, worldly appearance, however finely divided, endlessly various, yet in every case nothing but the combination of causes and conditions, falsely arising from what was originally nothing at all. Hence: "all through the combining of the four great elements" — which, for Ānanda, still comes down to nothing but causes and conditions. The passage above shows him clinging to the old, provisional meaning; this passage shows him doubting the present, real teaching. Ānanda asks: why does the Tathāgata reject both causes-and-conditions and spontaneity together, dismissing both alike? If only spontaneity were set aside, that would simply be the non-Buddhist position being refuted, and no doubt would arise; but to set aside causes-and-conditions as well runs against the Buddha's own established teaching. What, then, could this possibly mean — and to which school, which teaching, does this doubled negation of both causes-and-conditions and spontaneity actually belong? This is why he now begs the Buddha to explain.

"I beg only that the Tathāgata, in his compassion, take pity": pity that our delusion runs so deep, compassion that our wisdom runs so shallow, that we do not know to which teaching this doubled negation belongs; and he now asks to be shown the middle way, the teaching of complete meaning, free of empty argument. What Ānanda asks for here is exactly the doubled negation already given throughout the four categories: causes-and-conditions is the empty argument of those who have studied the teachings; spontaneity is the empty argument of those who have not; neither causes-and-conditions nor spontaneity is precisely the teaching free of empty argument, and this teaching is itself the middle way, the teaching of complete meaning. The "middle way" favors neither extreme, existence nor non-existence, hence "middle"; "not a matter of causes-and-conditions" means the wondrous nature is not caught in the conditioned; "not spontaneous" means the wondrous nature does not fall into the unconditioned either — both existence and non-existence set aside together, the middle way stands revealed of itself. This is exactly the Great Vehicle's teaching of complete meaning, the true Dharma, the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous, true nature of suchness. What Ānanda now asks for is exactly what the Buddha has already taught — deluded, he fails to recognize it, and asks again out of doubt, which is why the Buddha rebukes him as being like a person who can recite the names of medicines but cannot recognize the real medicine when it is right in front of him.

This shows the Buddha explaining why he taught as he did, in answer to what was actually being asked at the time. My earlier teaching on causes and conditions was spoken in answer to those seeking the Lesser Vehicle. You yourself, returning from the courtesan's chamber, regretted that your great learning had not brought you the full strength of the path, and earnestly begged to hear of the wondrous samādhi by which the Tathāgatas of the ten directions attain bodhi — this already showed that you had turned away from the teachings of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, turning from the Lesser Vehicle toward the Great, and had resolved to seek the buddha-path of unsurpassed bodhi. "And so I now reveal to you the ultimate truth": this is precisely the Great Vehicle teaching given in answer to what you actually asked for. "Now" means the time after the threefold refutation of consciousness, after the ten displays of seeing directly pointed to the true mind by way of the sense-faculty's own nature, after phenomena were gathered back into principle, and after the four categories were harmonized with the ever-abiding nature, phenomenon gathered back into nature. The true mind is exactly the ultimate truth.

"Why, then, do you again entangle yourself" expresses the Buddha's reproach for hoarding what he once heard of the provisional teaching on causes and conditions, unwilling to let it go. "Though you are learned, you are like a person who can recite the names of medicines but cannot recognize the real medicine when it is right in front of him — the Tathāgata truly calls this pitiable" reproaches Ānanda for hearing the middle way's ultimate truth and yet failing to recognize and take hold of it — like a person who has thoroughly studied a pharmacopoeia, able to recite every medicine's name by mouth, yet who has never gathered the real herbs himself, and so, when the true medicine is right in front of him, cannot recognize it as genuine, and instead doubts and rejects it. The first line here commands attention; what follows promises the explanation. "I will explain and reveal to you, point by point," the complete meaning of neither causes-and-conditions nor spontaneity — not for Ānanda alone, but for the present assembly, and for those in ages to come who cultivate the Great Vehicle, that all may penetrate through to true reality and enter together into the ocean of the tathāgatagarbha. "True reality" and "tathāgatagarbha" are two names for one and the same substance.

As the Zhèngmài commentary observes: the four categories only established that each and every one of them is, in its own nature, true — without yet saying that each and every one of them pervades the whole Dharma-realm — like pointing to incense-wood or coal and saying, of each, "this is fire," without yet going on to say that each is capable, in principle, of burning down an entire forest. What is promised here, in the detailed treatment of the seven great elements that follows, is precisely that each and every one of them pervades the whole Dharma-realm — like now actually setting each fire alight, showing that every single spark carries within it the full capacity to burn down an entire forest. The four categories only reveal that each phenomenon, in its own substance, is true and ever-abiding; the seven great elements reveal, to the fullest extent, that each phenomenon is perfectly interfused and all-pervading. The difference in depth between these two sections, earlier and later, lies exactly here.

True reality is threefold, corresponding to the three aspects of the tathāgatagarbha: first, the true reality of no appearance at all — free of every distinguishing mark of false phenomena, nothing but the one true, universally equal true reality; this is the "empty" tathāgatagarbha, empty of every false, defiled phenomenon's appearance, though not empty of its own substance — this is the tathāgatagarbha's unchanging substance. Second, the true reality of no appearance whatsoever being absent — not lacking appearance, but able to manifest every appearance in accordance with conditions; this is the "non-empty" tathāgatagarbha, complete with every phenomenon of the ten dharma-realms — this is the tathāgatagarbha's function, following conditions. Third, the true reality that is neither of these: to call it "absent" would be to abandon not a single phenomenon; to call it "present" would be to establish not a single speck of dust — this is the "empty and non-empty" tathāgatagarbha, true emptiness never obstructing wondrous existence, wondrous existence never obstructing true emptiness — the tathāgatagarbha's substance and function both manifest at once. "Ānanda fell silent, receiving the sacred instruction": falling silent means gathering his spirit and stilling his thoughts, entering wholeheartedly into the meaning of the Buddha's words, reverently receiving our great sage Buddha's instruction.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, as you have said: the four great elements combine to produce all the world's various transformations. Ānanda, if the nature of these great elements is, in its very substance, not a combination, then it could not mix and combine with the various great elements at all — exactly as empty space does not combine with any form. And if it is a combination, then it would be identical with everything that changes — beginning and end perpetually completing each other, arising and ceasing following one upon another without a break; birth becoming death, death becoming birth, birth upon birth, death upon death, like a wheel of fire spinning without ever coming to rest. Ānanda, it is like water becoming ice, and ice becoming water once again."

Commentary: This uses a contrasting analogy to make a specific point: first, that the nature of the great elements is not "not a combination." "The nature of the great elements" means the nature of the four great elements, which is exactly the tathāgatagarbha's own nature; "the great elements" means the appearance of the four great elements — appearance arises from nature and never departs from it; appearance is exactly the appearance found within nature, and nature is exactly the nature found within appearance. Though nature and appearance carry two different names, they are, at root, one and the same substance — this is the correct understanding. If one claims that the nature of the four great elements, being identical with its own substance, is "not a combination," granting the nature only its unchanging aspect while denying that it can also follow conditions, then it could not mix and combine with the appearance of the various great elements at all — exactly like empty space, which does not combine with any form. But this runs contrary to true suchness's own function of following conditions, quite unlike empty space's failure to combine with form — hence it is not "not a combination" either. This is the contrasting analogy.

This shows that the nature of the great elements is not, either, simply a combination. If one claims that the nature of the four great elements, being a combination, grants the nature only its capacity to follow conditions while denying its unchanging aspect, then it ought to be identical with the appearance of the various great elements, forever shifting and changing, moving from beginning to end and from end back to beginning again. From arising to ceasing, and, having ceased, arising once more, arising and ceasing follow one upon another — this said of the inanimate world. Birth becoming death, death becoming birth, birth upon birth, death upon death: because of birth there is death, and, having died, birth comes again, each completing the other in succession — this said of sentient beings' own bodies. From this one knows that the four great elements, within and without, are nothing but ever-changing appearance — and if the nature of the great elements were truly like this, it would be exactly like a wheel of fire spinning, never coming to rest. This, too, runs contrary to true suchness's own unchanging substance, quite unlike a wheel of fire's failure ever to rest — hence it is not simply a combination either. This is the second contrasting analogy. Both of these passages are cast in the classical three-part form of Buddhist logical demonstration — thesis, reason, and example — with both the stated position and its analogy running contrary to the nature of the great elements, and so both fall into the category of a flawed inference.

This uses a single analogy in its own right to illustrate the point, a positive analogy reversing the two contrasting ones just given — illustrating that the nature of the great elements is unchanging while following conditions, and follows conditions while remaining unchanging, reversing the two prior passages: one, where "not a combination" falls into spontaneity and loses the sense of following conditions; the other, where "a combination" falls into causes-and-conditions and loses the sense of remaining unchanging. Now, with a positive analogy, both of true suchness's aspects are shown together: hence, addressing Ānanda by name once more, the Buddha says: it is like water becoming ice, and ice becoming water once again. The first half: though the great elements' nature remains, in substance, unchanging, its function can still follow conditions to form an appearance — since it is not like empty space's failure to combine with any appearance, what, then, is it like? It is like water, which, following conditions, becomes ice without any actual "combining" taking place, and yet manifests exactly the appearance of a combination — water never apart from ice — so how could it be said to belong, fixedly, to "not a combination" at all? The second half: though the great elements' function follows conditions to form an appearance, it still never departs from its own unchanging substance — since it is not like a wheel of fire's failure ever to rest, what, then, is it like? It is like ice becoming water once again — only resembling a combination, with, in the end, no real combination to it at all — so how could it be said to belong, fixedly, to "a combination" either? Master Jiaoguang notes that the word "again" [還] deserves close attention here, since it is exactly what reveals the unchanging aspect: precisely because it is unchanging, it can become water "again" — and it is exactly at the point of becoming water "again" that one sees this was never a true combination in the first place, for if it were a true combination, it would have genuinely changed, the way blue and yellow combined together change into green, which could never become blue or yellow "again."

The overall demonstration, then, runs: the nature and appearance of the great elements — the thesis being that they are neither "not a combination" nor "a combination"; the reason, that they follow conditions while remaining unchanging; the positive analogy, water becoming ice and ice becoming water; the contrasting analogies, empty space and the wheel of fire. This demonstration truly accords with the nature and appearance of the great elements — a sound inference, its reasoning fully established. Ānanda had spoken only of the four great elements combining to produce every appearance; the Buddha's answer carries two points worth studying closely. First, Ānanda asked only about the appearance of the four great elements, while the Buddha addresses both nature and appearance together — since the provisional teaching, though it does speak of appearance in terms of nature, treats nature as a hidden meaning and speaks openly only of the characteristics of phenomena, never of their nature. The Buddha therefore raises nature and appearance together, using nature to dissolve appearance, in order to dislodge Ānanda's old view and bring about new understanding. Second, Ānanda had clung only to the combination of causes-and-conditions as his own established teaching — why, then, does the Buddha reject it? Because the Buddha refutes both combination and non-combination together, fearing that, once combination is refuted, Ānanda would simply shift to claiming non-combination instead — hence refuting both together, to block this very shift.

Sūtra: "Consider the nature of earth: coarse, it is the great earth itself; fine, it is dust. Down to the 'dust bordering on emptiness' — splitting the very edge of the smallest particle of matter, formed of seven parts — split it once more, and it becomes true empty space itself. If this dust bordering on emptiness can be split into empty space, then you should know that empty space is capable of producing the appearance of form. You now ask: is it not through combination that all the world's various transformations come to be produced? Consider, then, this single mote of dust bordering on emptiness — how much empty space combines to produce it? Empty space could hardly combine to form more of this same dust bordering on emptiness. And if this dust bordering on emptiness is, conversely, split apart into empty space, how much of the appearance of form combines to produce that empty space? At the moment form combines, what combines is form, not emptiness; at the moment emptiness combines, what combines is emptiness, not form. Form, at least, can still be split apart — but how could emptiness ever be combined? You have simply never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of form is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true form — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know, manifesting in accordance with karma. The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

Commentary: Ānanda had spoken only of the four great elements combining to produce the appearances of the world; the Buddha now broadens this into the seven great elements because the four alone do not cover every phenomenon — they take in only the aggregate of form, the first eleven of the twelve sense-fields, and the five faculties and six objects among the eighteen elements, but cannot take in the four mental aggregates, the sense-faculties within the six entrances, the mental faculty within the twelve fields and eighteen elements, or the emptiness paired with form. Hence space, seeing, and consciousness are added, gathering in every conditioned phenomenon without exception. Observe, then, that this nature of earth has both a coarse and a fine aspect: coarse, it is the great earth itself; fine, it is dust — down to the dust bordering on emptiness, splitting a mote of dust into seven parts, called an "extremely fine mote"; splitting that extremely fine mote again into seven parts gives what is called "dust bordering on emptiness." This dust bordering on emptiness, formed by splitting an extremely fine mote into seven parts, is itself the very edge of the appearance of form — bordering directly on emptiness, hence its name. It cannot be split any further; split this dust bordering on emptiness again, and it returns to emptiness outright — truly the nature of emptiness now, no longer the nature of form at all.

This moves from splitting form down into emptiness to fixing, conversely, on emptiness combining to form matter. It says: if this dust bordering on emptiness can be split into empty space, then, by the same logic, empty space ought certainly to be capable of producing the appearance of form — yet emptiness producing form is, on its face, no reasonable proposition at all. The Buddha deliberately poses this difficulty to refute the theory of combination, and, in passing, refutes the false position held by this land's own Confucian school as well — that emptiness gives rise to vital energy, and vital energy condenses into physical form, so that the ten thousand things of the world all arise from the combining of yin and yang energies. This asks Ānanda to examine the question himself: since you say the phenomena of the world are all produced through combination, and dust bordering on emptiness is itself one instance of form, it too ought to come about through combination. Form and emptiness are opposites: form has appearance, emptiness has none; the Buddha, knowing full well that emptiness has no measure and cannot, in principle, be combined with anything at all, deliberately raises this point to refute the theory of combination. Dust bordering on emptiness is the very smallest instance of form — beyond this mote, there is no further form left to combine with it, unless it is emptiness itself that combines to produce it. And claiming that dust bordering on emptiness combines to produce more of itself carries three faults: first, the fault of a thing combining with itself to produce itself, for there has only ever been a thing combining with something else to produce itself; second, the fault of one combining to produce one, for there has only ever been many combining to produce one; third, the fault of the fine combining to produce the fine, for there has only ever been the fine combining to produce the coarse.

The Tathāgata here uses Ānanda's own doctrine of splitting form down into emptiness to challenge his claim of combination. Since splitting form down into emptiness is the Lesser Vehicle's own teaching, while all phenomena arising through combination is Ānanda's own claim, the Buddha now follows Ānanda's own teaching to challenge his own claim. The Buddha, knowing full well that form is not produced by emptiness combining, nor emptiness produced by splitting form apart, deliberately poses this challenge. Why can Ānanda offer no reply? Because, following the logic of splitting form apart into emptiness, this could not be a matter of combination at all, contradicting his own claim that all phenomena arise through combination; yet relying on combination, this could not be a matter of splitting apart either, running contrary to his own school's teaching — defeated on both counts, he falls silent, with nothing left to argue. This states the correct conclusion directly. At the moment form combines, combining form can only ever produce more form, never emptiness — and emptiness, having no shape or appearance at all, cannot, in principle, be combined in the first place. Even granting that empty space itself could combine, combining emptiness would still only ever produce more emptiness, never form. From this one sees clearly that neither form nor emptiness comes about through combination at all. Form, at least, can genuinely be split apart — but splitting form apart only ever produces more form, and is not, in truth, capable of producing emptiness at all; emptiness, in the end, admits of no such thing as combination, since it has no shape and no measure. The Buddha's point is: since emptiness cannot be combined, dust bordering on emptiness does not come about through combination — and if dust bordering on emptiness does not come about through combination, how could the countless phenomena of the world, clung to as arising through the combination of causes and conditions, possibly carry any real substance at all?

This shows the complete substance, perfectly interfused. The form belonging to the great element of earth has, as its very substance, the Dharma-realm itself — form and emptiness perfectly interfused, without obstruction, never a matter of combination at all. Ānanda, clinging fast to causes-and-conditions combining, does so because, lacking the wondrous wisdom of original awakening, he has simply never known that, within the tathāgatagarbha, the wondrous principle of original enlightenment, there is no phenomenon it does not contain, no phenomenon it does not interfuse with. "Tathāgatagarbha" is another name for the true mind, a name given in terms of principle. "Tathāgata" names the principle by which the true mind, unchanging, follows conditions, and, following conditions, remains unchanging — perfectly interfused, without obstruction, containing and holding every phenomenon. "The nature of form is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true form" points to how, within the tathāgatagarbha, the true nature of form and emptiness interpenetrate each other completely. Each of the seven great elements is introduced, in turn, with the phrase "within the tathāgatagarbha" — these belong to the seven great elements as inherently possessed in principle, unlike the four categories treated earlier, which belong to the seven great elements as already manifested in actual fact.

Question: "Why are the phenomena of the four categories also identified with the seven great elements?" Answer: "The aggregates, entrances, fields, and elements are no different from the seven great elements — only arranged vertically or horizontally, expanded or condensed, in different ways. Taken vertically, the aggregate of form expands into the first six great elements, while the four mental aggregates condense into the great element of consciousness; taken horizontally, the six sense-objects condense into the first five great elements, the six sense-faculties condense into the great element of seeing, and the six consciousnesses condense into the great element of consciousness. When were they ever anything apart from the seven great elements at all?" Question: "This section properly concerns the great element of earth — why does it not speak of 'earth' but substitute the word 'form' instead?" Answer: "The great element of earth belongs to the category of form; substituting the word 'form' states the point in its most general terms." Speaking of "form" as "the nature of form is true form" does not refer to form as already manifested in the world, but to form as inherently possessed in nature within the tathāgatagarbha — form in its true substance, interfused and identical with emptiness. "Nature" here speaks of what is not mere appearance — that is, principle rather than phenomenon; "true" speaks of what is not the ordinary, worldly sense of the word — that is, substance rather than function.

The two words "nature" and "true" name the very substance of principle, the root of both form and emptiness. Different words, one meaning — used here interchangeably; written out in full without this interchange, it would read as four separate clauses: the nature of form is true emptiness, and true emptiness is the nature of form; the nature of emptiness is true form, and true form is the nature of emptiness — together completing the full sense of form and emptiness interfused as one. "Pure and unmoved from the start" points to the tathāgatagarbha's own inherent purity, needing no effort to bring about — not purified by being cleansed, or made clean by being washed, but pure from the very beginning, without the slightest trace of defilement. "Pervading the whole Dharma-realm": the line before this concerns the tathāgatagarbha's own inherently possessed, unchanging substance; this line concerns its inherently possessed function, following conditions. Before this function has yet arisen, it simply pervades the Dharma-realm of principle; once function arises from substance, it comes, of itself, to pervade the Dharma-realm of phenomena as well.

This shows the great function to be without limit. Function arises from substance; what is brought about in actual fact never departs from what is inherently possessed in principle. Still rooted in the tathāgatagarbha's own unchanging substance, its function now arises, following conditions, in response to the conditions of sentient beings across all nine dharma-realms. "Mind" spoken of in terms of the sense-faculties, whose capacities differ, superior or inferior, across the nine realms; "capacity to know" spoken of in terms of understanding, whose measure differs, greater or lesser, across the nine realms — all of this being distinction already arisen out of what is, at root, an equal, undifferentiated nature. If a sentient being calls upon it only with an inferior mind and a small capacity, then what responds to it — a coarse, meager form — nonetheless never fails to match that mind, nor to fill that capacity; if a sentient being calls upon it with a superior mind and a vast capacity, then what responds to it — a vast, wondrous form — likewise never fails to match that mind, nor to fill that capacity.

The phrase "appearing in accordance with karma" is placed in its own section here because this phrase is exactly what gives rise to the two delusions discussed next. Karma divides into defiled and pure; the form belonging to both the direct and circumstantial retribution of beings across the nine realms all appears in accordance with the karma each being carries. Karma is what brings the appearing about; form is what is brought about — like an echo answering a sound, like a shadow following a shape. This holds not only for the deluded, who must accord with defiled karma before anything appears at all, but even for the awakened, who must likewise accord with pure karma before anything can appear. Master Jiaoguang notes that these four characters carry a double sense of not being free to choose either way: first, every pure, wondrous form, mundane or transcendent, cannot appear at all, however much one might wish it to, without according with the corresponding pure karma; second, every suffering, defiled form of the three lower and four evil destinies cannot fail to appear, however much one might wish otherwise, without guarding against the corresponding defiled karma. "The unknowing world" refers to sentient beings lacking true wisdom, who fail to grasp the tathāgatagarbha's twofold nature — unchanging, and following conditions — and so, from the sheer fact of appearing in accordance with karma, come to raise the twin delusions of causes-and-conditions and spontaneity. "All of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind": since both delusions arise entirely from the sixth consciousness's own deluded mind, falsely discriminating and calculating everywhere — exactly the nature of universal conceptual clinging, which is, in itself, empty — hence: "there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

Sūtra: "Ānanda, space has no form of its own; it is revealed only through form. Consider a household far from the river in Śrāvastī — of the warrior caste, the Brahmin caste, the merchant, farmer, artisan, or outcaste castes alike — newly settled, digging a well in search of water. For every foot of earth removed, a foot of empty space appears in its place; and so on, up to removing a full fathom of earth, revealing a full fathom of empty space in turn — the depth of the space keeping exact pace with how much earth is removed. Does this space come from the earth, from the digging, or does it arise spontaneously, with no cause at all? If this space arose with no cause at all, spontaneously, then why, before the well was dug, was it not already unobstructed — why did one see only solid earth, with nothing passing through it at all? If it comes out of the earth, then, at the moment the earth comes out, one ought to see space going in — and if the earth comes out first, with no space going in, how could empty space be said to come out of the earth at all? If there is no coming out or going in, then space and earth would originally share no distinct cause, and, sharing none, would be one and the same thing — in which case, at the moment the earth comes out, why does the space not come out along with it? If it comes out because of the digging, then what the digging produces ought to be space, not earth. And if it does not come out because of the digging, then the digging simply produces earth on its own — so how does one come to see space at all? Examine this yet again, closely, carefully, attentively: the digging comes from the hand, turning this way and that as it is directed; the earth is displaced from the ground. On what basis, then, does this empty space come out at all? Digging and emptiness, one solid and one empty, cannot act upon each other; there is neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them, and yet it would be wrong to say this space simply has no source at all. If this empty space is, in its nature, perfectly complete and all-pervading, never in itself unsettled or moved, then you should know that the earth, water, fire, and wind now before you are, every one, equally to be called among these same five great elements — each, in its true nature, perfectly interfused, each the tathāgatagarbha itself, originally free of arising or ceasing. You do not know at all that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of awareness is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true awareness — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know. Ānanda, as with a single well, opening a single well's worth of space; and so it is, too, with the empty space of the ten directions — vast and complete throughout the ten directions, how could it have any fixed location at all? The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

Commentary: "Space has no form of its own" points to its unchanging substance: "nature" here means substance itself, which has, from the start, no shape at all — large, small, square, or round; where there is shape, there is change, and where there is no shape, there is no change. "It is revealed only through form" points to its function, following conditions: revealed and manifested through whatever object of form it happens to depend on — as already shown in the display of seeing as unobstructed, where a vast realm shows a vast emptiness, a small room shows a small emptiness, a square vessel shows a square emptiness, a round vessel a round emptiness — however much it is revealed differently through different conditions, the substance of emptiness itself never changes.

This refutes space arising with no cause: if this space arose spontaneously, then, before the well was dug, it ought already to have been unobstructed — why, then, was solid earth all that could be seen, with nothing at all passing through it? Only once the earth was dug did empty space appear — not something arising with no cause at all. This refutes space coming out of the earth: since, before the well was dug, no space was seen at all, and space only came to be once the earth was dug out, one is tempted to say that space comes out of the earth. But, at the moment the earth is dug out, one ought to see empty space coming in from the surrounding earth into the well — yet if the earth comes out first, with no space going in, how could one say that empty space comes out of the earth at all? This refutes there being no coming out or going in at all: if space were already present within the earth, neither coming out of it nor going into the well, then, before the well was dug, space and earth would have to share the very same cause, occupying the same place, depending on each other — sharing no distinction between them, one and the same substance — in which case, at the moment the earth comes out, why would the space not come out along with it?

This refutes both "because of the digging" and "not because of the digging," neither holding. If this space comes out because of the digging, then what the digging produces is empty space, and ought not to be earth at all. And if this space does not come out because of the digging, having nothing to do with it, then digging the well ought simply to produce earth on its own, with no space resulting at all — so how does one come to see empty space appear along with every stroke of digging? This teaches Ānanda to examine and scrutinize yet further: the well comes about through digging, the digging comes from the hand, turning this way and that as it is directed to the chosen spot; the earth is displaced, moved out of the ground. On what basis, then, does this empty space within the well actually come out at all? Since this space arises neither with no cause at all, nor out of the earth, nor because of the digging — where, in the end, does it actually come from? The substance of the digging is solid; the nature of space is empty — one empty and one solid, unable to act on each other at all — how, then, could one say this comes about through the combination of causes and conditions? Hence: "neither a true mixing nor a true combining"; and yet it would be wrong to say this space simply has no source at all, arising spontaneously — this refutes both the causes-and-conditions and the spontaneity misconceptions together.

The Buddha's intent here is to merge this great element of space with the four preceding it, calling them together the "five great elements," drawing them back into the tathāgatagarbha's own nature. Most sūtras speak only of four great elements; this sūtra singles out space as well, showing it equal to the other four, together called the five great elements. One should understand that it is not simply that empty space has newly earned the name "great" — the other four, though called "great" before now, were so called merely on the grounds that earth, water, fire, and wind are found everywhere, without yet showing that they are mutually unobstructed with one another — not yet truly "great" in this fuller sense. Only now, harmonized with the tathāgatagarbha's own nature, perfectly pervading and ever-abiding, do they become truly "great." "Each, in its true nature, perfectly interfused, each the tathāgatagarbha itself, originally free of arising or ceasing" means: each and every one of the great elements is nothing but nature, nothing but truth — as already said, the nature of form is true emptiness, down to the nature of wind is true emptiness, and so on — using nature to interfuse each element, each element entirely nature, hence "each the tathāgatagarbha."

"You do not know at all" carries a note of deep reproach: after all this careful, repeated instruction in the middle way's complete meaning, meant to bring you to awakening through observing emptiness, you still do not know at all that, within the tathāgatagarbha, awareness as inherently possessed in nature is, at root, emptiness in its true substance, and emptiness as inherently possessed in nature is exactly awareness in its true substance. These two lines vary the pattern used for the great element of space itself, substituting the word "awareness" where the earlier pattern would simply repeat "space" — both words referring here to the tathāgatagarbha's own nature, which holds both stillness and illumination together: emptiness names the stillness, awareness names the illumination. The wording is also reversed here — for if left unvaried, both lines would simply read "the nature of space is true space," with nothing left to distinguish between them.

This uses an actual instance to verify that the nature of space is perfectly complete and all-pervading: just as digging a well in one place produces exactly that well's worth of space, digging wells throughout the ten directions produces exactly that same pattern of space wherever they are dug — this is precisely what it means for a single well's space to be neither coming out nor going in. Empty space, vast and complete, pervading the ten directions — how could it have any fixed location at all? It is exactly because empty space is nowhere absent that it earns the name "great" — not present here and absent there, not absent before and present now; it possesses not only the quality of greatness but the quality of permanence as well, hence the earlier description: "never in itself unsettled or moved, originally free of arising or ceasing."

Deluded beings, according with the tainted karma they have created, manifest a defiled emptiness — as when beings of the fourth dhyāna heaven, wearied of existence and drawn toward emptiness, manifest the base of infinite space. Cultivating beings, according with the untainted karma they have cultivated, manifest a pure emptiness — as when fourth-fruit arhats, extinguishing body and wisdom alike, manifest the one-sided emptiness of nirvāṇa. "The unknowing world" refers to ordinary people, Lesser-Vehicle followers, and non-Buddhist schools, who mistake the great element of space for something produced by causes and conditions, or else cling to it as something spontaneously existing — all of it nothing but the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, the awareness of seeing has, in itself, no content of its own — it appears only through brightness and darkness. Just as, now, in the Jeta Grove, it is bright in the morning and dim by evening; and, dwelling through the middle of the night, it is light when the moon is full and dark when the moon is new — brightness, darkness, and the rest are each distinguished only because of seeing. Is this seeing one and the same substance as brightness, darkness, and empty space together, or not the same substance? Is it, perhaps, both the same and not the same, or neither the same nor different? Ānanda, if this seeing were, at root, one and the same substance as brightness, darkness, and emptiness, then brightness and darkness, two substances, would cancel each other out: when it is dark there is no brightness, when it is bright there is no darkness — so if seeing were one with darkness, then, at the moment of brightness, seeing itself ought to vanish along with the darkness; and if it must instead be one with brightness, then, at the moment of darkness, it ought to vanish along with the brightness. But if it vanishes either way, how could it still see brightness, and see darkness too? And if brightness and darkness are, in fact, distinct from each other while seeing itself neither arises nor ceases along with either one, then how could 'one and the same substance' possibly hold at all? If this essence of seeing were not one and the same substance as darkness, brightness, and emptiness, then, apart from brightness, darkness, and emptiness, what shape would this seeing itself, examined on its own, actually have? Apart from brightness, apart from darkness, and apart from emptiness too, this seeing would be exactly like the hair of a tortoise or the horns of a hare — nothing at all. And if brightness, darkness, and emptiness are truly three distinct things, on what basis could seeing itself even be established? Brightness and darkness stand opposed to each other — how, then, could seeing be 'the same' as both, even partly? Apart from these three, there is, to begin with, no seeing at all to speak of — how, then, could it be 'different' from them, even partly? Divide emptiness, divide seeing — neither one has any boundary or edge to be found — how, then, could they be 'not the same'? And seeing darkness, seeing brightness — the seeing-nature itself never shifts or changes — how, then, could it be 'not different' either? Examine this yet more closely, in the finest detail, scrutinizing it with full attention: brightness comes from the sun, darkness follows the moon's dark phase, openness belongs to empty space, obstruction belongs to solid earth — on what basis, then, does this essence of seeing itself come about? Seeing is aware; emptiness is inert — neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them — and yet it would be wrong to say this essence of seeing simply has no source at all. If seeing, hearing, and knowing are, in their nature, perfectly complete and all-pervading, never in themselves unsettled or moved, then you should know that the boundless, unmoving emptiness, together with the shifting, moving earth, water, fire, and wind, are, every one, equally to be called among these same six great elements — each, in its true nature, perfectly interfused, each the tathāgatagarbha itself, originally free of arising or ceasing. You have never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of seeing is true awareness and bright, the essence of awareness is true, bright seeing — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know. As with the single faculty of seeing, whose seeing pervades the whole Dharma-realm — so too with hearing, smelling, tasting, the sensation of touch, and cognition: each of these wondrous virtues shines out clear as polished jade, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, perfectly complete throughout the ten directions of emptiness — how could any of them have a fixed location at all? The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

Commentary: "Seeing" here stands generally for the whole capacity, across the six sense-faculties, to see, hear, smell, taste, sense touch, and know — seeing alone is singled out as representative of all six. This belongs to the eighth consciousness's own seeing-portion, reflected at the gateway of the six sense-faculties, taking hold of the direct perception of the six sense-objects — not the physical, gross sense-organ itself, hence the term "seeing" rather than "faculty." This sūtra establishes seeing as its own great element for three reasons: first, to gather up what came before — the ten displays of seeing already revealed that this great element of seeing is true, and restating here that seeing, hearing, and the rest are exactly the tathāgatagarbha makes the point that seeing is mind ring out even more fully. Second, to prepare for what follows — the Buddhas will tell Ānanda that what binds him to the cycle of birth and death, and what will bring him swiftly to liberation, is nothing but his own six sense-faculties, and nothing else — and to teach this Dharma-gate, this great element must first be established. Third, for the sake of perfect penetration — since, without this great element of seeing established, Mahāsthāmaprāpta's own method of perfect penetration through reciting the Buddha's name, "gathering in all six sense-faculties together," would have nothing to rest on at all; hence this great element must be established, to complete the full count of twenty-five.

"The awareness of seeing has, in itself, no content of its own; it appears only through brightness and darkness" shows that the great element of seeing is exactly the tathāgatagarbha: the awareness of seeing is exactly the seeing-nature, a luminous, thoroughly clear substance of awareness, a single stretch of brightness, still and yet constantly illuminating, establishing no subject or object of its own — originally without any knower or known at all, until, dependent on form and emptiness, a knower and a known come to be. Because of the object of form and emptiness clinging to the still substance and giving rise to seeing, a faculty capable of seeing, and an object seen, first come to be. "The awareness of seeing has, in itself, no content" points to its unchanging substance; "it appears only through brightness and darkness" points to its function, following conditions. The Buddha asks whether this seeing is one and the same substance as brightness, darkness, and empty space together, or not the same substance, or perhaps both, or neither — raising the question first, four possibilities in all, before refuting each in turn.

This refutes seeing being one and the same substance as its object. If seeing were, at root, one and the same substance as brightness, darkness, and emptiness, then, being one substance, undivided, brightness and darkness, two substances, would cancel each other out: when it is dark there is no brightness, so brightness is gone; when it is bright there is no darkness, so darkness is gone. Brightness and darkness overturning each other this way, both substances cancel out — so which, in the end, is seeing supposed to be one with? If seeing were one substance with darkness, then, brightness arising and darkness ceasing, seeing itself ought to vanish along with the darkness — so how could it still see brightness? And if seeing must instead be one substance with brightness, then, darkness arising and brightness ceasing, seeing ought to vanish along with the brightness as well — so how could it still see darkness? Brightness arriving, darkness departing, darkness arising, brightness ceasing — however much brightness and darkness differ from each other, the seeing-nature itself is never subject to arising or ceasing at all — how, then, could the claim of "one and the same substance" possibly hold?

This refutes seeing being a substance distinct from its object. If this essence of seeing were not one and the same substance as darkness and brightness, then seeing ought to stand apart from its object, possessing some separate substance of its own. Apart from brightness and darkness, and apart from emptiness too, examine this seeing's own original substance closely — what shape, in the end, would it actually have? Apart from brightness, apart from darkness, and apart from emptiness, this original seeing would be exactly like the hair of a tortoise or the horns of a hare — things that were never there to begin with. And if brightness, darkness, and emptiness are indeed three wholly distinct things, with no object at all, seeing itself could never be established — so how, then, could one possibly claim that seeing is a substance distinct from its object?

This refutes "partly the same": brightness and darkness overturn each other, standing opposed — how, then, could seeing be "partly the same" as both? This refutes "partly different": apart from these three, brightness, darkness, and emptiness, there is, to begin with, no independent seeing at all to speak of — how, then, could it be "partly different" from them? This refutes "neither the same nor different": if one claims seeing is not the same as its object, it ought to be possible to divide them apart, each with its own separate substance — yet examine the emptiness taking in form that is seen, and examine the seeing capable of seeing it, and neither space nor seeing has any boundary or edge to be found at all — so how could one possibly claim "not the same"? And seeing darkness, seeing brightness — brightness and darkness overturn each other, arising and ceasing, while the seeing-nature itself undergoes no change or alteration at all — one subject to arising and ceasing, the other ever-abiding, the two never to be confused — so how could one possibly claim "not different" either?

This directs Ānanda to scrutinize the matter closely enough to arrive at real conviction: one should observe that the appearance of brightness comes from the sun, the appearance of darkness follows the moon's dark phase, the appearance of openness belongs to empty space, the appearance of obstruction belongs to solid earth — each with its own clear source. But this essence of seeing, capable of seeing brightness, darkness, openness, and obstruction alike — on what basis, in the end, does it itself come about? With no source to be found for it at all, what could it possibly be said to combine with? This refutes both causes-and-conditions and spontaneity together: seeing is aware, while emptiness is entirely inert — their substance and nature simply differ, admitting neither a true mixing nor a true combining — how, then, could one say that all phenomena come about through the combination of causes and conditions? And since it is not a matter of causes-and-conditions, neither should one say that this essence of seeing simply has no source at all, arising spontaneously.

The Buddha's intent here is to merge this great element of seeing with the five preceding it, calling them together the "six great elements," drawing them back into the tathāgatagarbha's own nature — the five great elements before it being insentient, this great element of seeing being sentient, merging the sentient and the insentient together into a single substance. "Perfectly complete and all-pervading" means: the nature of these six essences is, from the start, perfectly complete, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, never present here and absent there, or absent here and present there — this alone is what "perfectly complete and all-pervading" truly means; "never in themselves unsettled or moved, free of arising and ceasing" means: not absent before and present now, nor present now and absent later — this is exactly what "ever-abiding" means. You should know that the boundless, unmoving emptiness, together with the shifting, moving earth, water, fire, and wind, are equal in standing to this same great element of seeing, their substance and nature equal alike — hence they may be called, together, the six great elements.

You have never known that, within the tathāgatagarbha, seeing as inherently possessed in nature is exactly the substance of awakening, originally bright; the essence of original enlightenment is exactly this same wondrous, bright, true seeing. "Pure and unmoved from the start" means that the substance of seeing and the rest is, from the beginning, pure, vast, complete, pervading the whole Dharma-realm. This shows the great function to be without limit — its function arising, following conditions, able to answer the superior or inferior mind, the greater or lesser capacity, of beings across the nine realms, each and every one; as with the single faculty of seeing, whose full substance pervades everywhere, so too with the ear's hearing, the nose's smelling, the tongue's tasting, the body's sensing, and the mind's cognition — each of these faculties is exactly the virtuous function of this same wondrous nature, pure and bright, clear as polished jade, equally pervading the whole Dharma-realm, perfectly complete throughout the ten directions of empty space — how could any of them have any fixed location at all? That is, present nowhere in particular, and absent nowhere at all.

According with the karma of beings across the nine realms, the seeing that appears differs from being to being: an ordinary being's fleshly eye cannot see form behind an obstruction; the heavenly eye sees far and clearly; the wisdom eye sees form and understands emptiness within it; the Dharma eye surveys the whole dusty world at once — all of this simply the appearing of superior or inferior seeing in accordance with defiled or pure karma. The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes-and-conditions or of spontaneity — all of it nothing but the discriminating, deluded sixth-consciousness mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all.

Question: "The ten displays of seeing already revealed that the seeing-nature is exactly the true mind, serving as the general characteristic underlying every phenomenon — but now, harmonized into the tathāgatagarbha, the great element of seeing becomes merely one specific characteristic among others. How should this discrepancy be understood?" Answer: "This sūtra places its whole emphasis on perfect penetration — awakening, cultivation, realization, and entry all rest on the six sense-faculties — hence the earlier passage singled out the seeing-nature specifically, presenting it as the whole substance, so that awakening to this unborn, unceasing nature could serve as the root cause of practice, and only then could realization at the level of the fruit be perfectly accomplished." Here, the seven great elements interfuse the whole of phenomena together, with the tathāgatagarbha itself standing as the general characteristic, and each of the seven as a specific characteristic. But under the perfect, real teaching's own principle, every single phenomenon can equally serve as either general or specific characteristic in turn — like Indra's net of a thousand jewels, where any one jewel contains all the others, and all the others converge in that one jewel; take that one jewel as the general characteristic and the rest as specific, and the same holds true of every jewel in turn.

The Zhèngmài commentary says: the earlier "opening and revealing" and the present "harmonizing and drawing in" each carry an initial phase and a later phase. In the earlier passage's initial phase, the true mind is drawn directly out from within the sense-faculty itself; in its later phase, the ten thousand phenomena are gathered into a single substance, with the sense-faculties, the body, and the material world all revealed as nothing but illusory reflections within that same substance — which is exactly this same tathāgatagarbha spoken of here. In the present passage's initial phase, the argument likewise begins from distinguishing brightness and darkness directly in front of one's eyes, no different from the earlier passage's drawing the truth out from within the sense-faculty; and in its later phase, harmonizing and concluding that the true nature is perfectly interfused, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, is likewise no different from the earlier passage's own later phase. And here, all seven great elements alike are granted to be perfectly interfused — this, too, is the perfect teaching's own principle that every phenomenon mutually contains every other. Yet, in the earlier passage, the seeing-nature alone was granted pride of place over every other phenomenon — this is this sūtra's own distinctive central teaching. One should understand that the earlier passage aimed at skillful awakening and cultivation, while this present passage aims at a perfectly rounded understanding. Let those with discerning eyes judge for themselves.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, consciousness has no single source; it arises falsely, dependent on the six pairs of sense-faculties and their objects. Look now across this whole assembly of noble ones — as your eye passes over them, roving freely, it sees them at first exactly as a mirror does, without distinguishing anything at all. Then your consciousness, one by one, picks out and names each one in turn: this is Mañjuśrī, this is Pūrṇa, this is Maudgalyāyana, this is Subhūti, this is Śāriputra. Does this act of recognizing consciousness arise from the seeing, from the appearances themselves, from empty space, or does it emerge suddenly, with no cause at all? Ānanda, if this nature of your consciousness arises from within seeing, then, without brightness, darkness, form, or emptiness — these four necessarily absent — there is, to begin with, no seeing of yours at all; and with the seeing-nature itself not even present, from what could consciousness possibly arise? If this nature of your consciousness arises from within appearance, rather than from seeing, then, without seeing brightness, without seeing darkness — brightness and darkness both unwitnessed — form and emptiness alike are absent, and appearance itself, then, is not even present — from what could consciousness possibly arise? If it arises from emptiness, being neither appearance nor seeing — if it is not seeing, it has no capacity to discern at all, and so could not, of itself, know brightness, darkness, form, or emptiness; and if it is not appearance either, then the very object it would depend on has already vanished — where, then, could seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing possibly be established at all? Caught between these two negations, emptiness itself becomes next to nothing at all — and "being," though not identical with any ordinary object, even if it could somehow give rise to your consciousness, would leave nothing left for that consciousness to discern in the first place. And if it arises with no cause at all, springing up quite suddenly, then why does no one, in the middle of a bright day, suddenly happen to perceive the moon shining as well? Examine this yet more closely, in the finest detail, scrutinizing it with full attention: seeing depends on your own eyes; appearance is projected from the object before you — what has a definite shape becomes "existing," what has none becomes "empty" — on what basis, then, does this condition that gives rise to consciousness actually come about? Consciousness is active; seeing is still and clear — neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them — and hearing, listening, sensing, and knowing are each exactly the same — and yet it would be wrong to say this condition that gives rise to consciousness simply has no source at all. If this consciousness, this discerning mind, truly comes from nowhere at all, then you should know that this capacity to discern, together with seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing, is perfectly complete and utterly still, its nature arising from nothing at all — and, together with that boundless emptiness, and earth, water, fire, and wind, is, every one, equally to be called among these same seven great elements — each, in its true nature, perfectly interfused, each the tathāgatagarbha itself, originally free of arising or ceasing. Ānanda, your mind is coarse and unsettled, and you have not awakened to the fact that seeing, hearing, and the capacity to discern which they bring to light are, at root, the tathāgatagarbha. You should observe this for yourself: is the discerning mind, present in each of these six locations, the same in each, or different in each? Empty, or existent? Neither the same nor different? Neither empty nor existent? You have simply never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of consciousness is bright knowing, and true consciousness is the brightness of awareness itself — wondrously aware and utterly still, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, containing and giving forth the ten directions of emptiness — how could it have any fixed location at all? The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

Commentary: "The nature of consciousness" points ahead to the six kinds of sense-faculty and object that follow — meaning the first six consciousnesses, whose nature is exactly the capacity to discern; this nature has no single source of its own. Dependent on the six kinds of sense-faculty and object as its condition, it falsely appears, nothing but a shadow cast by its object — present when the object is present, absent when the object is absent — hence "no source." "As your eye passes over them, roving freely" means the eye moving over them in sequence, taking each one in. As the eye scans across the assembly, at the very moment faculty and object first meet, before a single thought has yet stirred, this is exactly the seeing-nature within the faculty itself, taking hold of its object in direct perception — exactly like an image appearing in a mirror, with, as yet, no distinction at all drawn between beautiful and plain, good and bad. "Then your consciousness, one by one, picks out and names each one in turn" distinguishes the character of consciousness itself.

The question is raised first; what follows refutes each possibility in turn. This refutes arising from the faculty alone: "seeing" here means the faculty itself — apart from its object, the faculty has no existence of its own; from what, then, could consciousness arise? This refutes arising from the object alone: "appearance" here means the object itself; with the object itself not even present, from what could consciousness arise? This refutes arising from emptiness alone: if it arose from emptiness, being neither the object nor the faculty — if not the faculty, it would have no capacity to discern at all, and so could not know brightness, darkness, form, or emptiness, this being a faculty with no object; and if not the object, then the very condition it depends on has already vanished, leaving seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing with nowhere at all to be established, this being an object with no faculty. Caught between these two negations, neither appearance nor seeing, the emptiness that would give rise to consciousness comes to next to nothing at all. This emptiness, next to nothing, how could it give rise to consciousness? And if one insists that emptiness is, after all, something that exists, though unlike any ordinary object, how, still, could it give rise to consciousness? And even granting that it somehow could, since the object it would depend on has already vanished, what would be left for it to discern in the first place? This refutes arising with no cause at all: if consciousness could truly spring up suddenly, with no cause, then why does it not, in the middle of a bright day, with no moon in the sky at all, suddenly and specially give rise to a consciousness recognizing the moon?

This continues the same point made throughout — that these are neither a combination nor not a combination. The faculty capable of seeing rests within the eye itself; the object seen is projected as the scene before it; what has a definite shape becomes an object with form; what has none becomes empty, formless space — and within this faculty, object, form, and emptiness, examine closely and in detail on what, in the end, the condition giving rise to consciousness actually depends. Since it depends on none of these, it is clearly not a matter of combination at all. Whenever one properly speaks of "combination," the substances involved must be of a similar kind — but here, consciousness, being discriminating, belongs to activity, while seeing, being non-discriminating, belongs to stillness — their substance and nature simply differ, and so neither a true mixing nor a true combining holds between them; and hearing, listening, sensing, and knowing, the natures of the remaining five faculties, are each exactly the same — none of them a matter of causes and conditions combining. It would be wrong to say that this condition giving rise to consciousness arises with no cause at all, spontaneously; and yet, since it must always arise from faculty and object meeting each other, it is not simply "not a combination" either!

This merges the sixth great element with the tathāgatagarbha, drawing together all six that came before. As has already been shown, this discerning mind truly comes from nowhere at all, and so is not brought about through combination. One should know that this discerning consciousness, together with the sense-faculties of seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing discussed above, is equally perfectly complete and utterly still, its nature arising from no condition at all — for if it were not perfectly complete, one could say it arose from some condition, but, being already perfectly complete, with nothing whatsoever outside it, what condition could it possibly arise from? Together with that same insentient emptiness, and with earth, water, fire, and wind, all equally alike — these are, every one, called the seven great elements. "Each, in its true nature, perfectly interfused, each the tathāgatagarbha itself, originally free of arising or ceasing": each and every one of the seven great elements is, in itself, nature, in itself, truth, perfectly interfused without obstruction. Being nothing but nature, nothing but truth, the seven great elements are, at root, not seven great elements at all — hence all are the tathāgatagarbha, originally free of arising or ceasing, ever-abiding and unmoved.

This warns Ānanda to awaken to the fact that the great element of consciousness is exactly the tathāgatagarbha. It says: your mind is coarse — coarse, and so not fine; unsettled, and so not deep — lacking the deep, fine wisdom needed to awaken to the fact that seeing, hearing, and the other sense-faculties are exactly the tathāgatagarbha's own nature, and failing to bring to light the fact that the very consciousness capable of discerning is, at root, the tathāgatagarbha as well. You are therefore taught to give rise to wisdom and observe directly the discerning mind present in each of these six locations. If one says "the same," its function differs across all six faculties; if one says "different," it is, at root, one single, luminous essence — so how could this consciousness possibly be described in terms of same or different at all? If one says "empty," it plainly discerns things right now; if one says "existent," it has, in itself, no shape whatsoever — so how could it be described in terms of empty or existent either? If one says "not the same," it is, at root, a single substance; if one says "not different," its function varies across the six locations — so this consciousness cannot be described as neither-the-same-nor-different either. If one says "not empty," then, apart from faculty and object, it is, at root, nothing at all; if one says "not existent," it is plainly capable of discerning every object right now — so this consciousness cannot be described as neither-empty-nor-existent either. If one can truly awaken to the fact that the great element of consciousness is beyond same and different, beyond empty and existent, then one can likewise awaken to the fact that the great element of seeing, and this great element of consciousness, are each neither a combination nor not a combination!

This concludes by revealing the substance of the great element of consciousness — since the substance of consciousness is exactly the substance of the tathāgatagarbha, and Ānanda, lacking true wisdom, has failed to awaken to this true principle: you have simply never known that, within the tathāgatagarbha's own nature, consciousness as inherently possessed in nature is exactly wondrous, bright, true knowing, and the brightness of original enlightenment is exactly consciousness in its true nature. "Wondrously aware and utterly still, pervading the whole Dharma-realm": the earlier phrase "pure and unmoved from the start" spoke in terms of the original self-nature; here, with the great element of consciousness, its very substance is exactly wondrous, original, bright awareness, utterly still and settled — within this substance is already inherently contained the function of pervading the whole Dharma-realm, though this, too, is only what is inherently possessed in principle, not yet brought about in actual fact. What is inherent in principle is the whole substance already complete with its great function, folded within, not yet manifest — yet, though not yet manifest, its own inherent power and function lack nothing at all, exactly as a matchstick already possesses within it the full power and function of fire, though not yet manifest, already possessing the capacity to burn down an entire forest. What is brought about in fact is this same matchstick, struck once — a single spark, and the whole plain can be set ablaze.

This shows the great function to be without limit. This section alone lacks the usual phrase "appearing according to mind and capacity," since here mind is itself the discerning mind, and capacity is itself the discerning capacity — it could hardly follow and respond to itself, hence the phrase is simply omitted. It says only that the nature of consciousness can both contain and give forth — "contain" meaning to enclose and hold, "give forth" meaning to bring into being. This is exactly the great function arising in accordance with this very nature: the tathāgatagarbha's own nature can enclose the boundless emptiness of the ten directions — how much more, then, every world and every being within that emptiness? The tathāgatagarbha's own nature can likewise manifest the boundless emptiness of the ten directions, and every phenomenon whatsoever within that emptiness — and consciousness is exactly the same. Hence the Dharma-characteristics school's own saying: "the ten thousand phenomena are consciousness alone."

According with the two kinds of karma, tainted and untainted, the defiled and pure consciousness of the six ordinary destinies, and of the three vehicles' own awakened world, comes to appear. Ordinary people and non-Buddhist schools, lacking correct knowledge and correct view, are deluded into thinking it arises through the combination of causes and conditions, or arises spontaneously without combination — all of it nothing but the deluded, discriminating, calculating consciousness-mind; there is only the empty argument of talk, with no true, complete meaning in it at all.

The Zhèngmài commentary poses a question: "This sūtra, from its very opening, directly refutes the discerning mind — the seven-location search wound its way through every possibility, the threefold confusion was decisively resolved, both name and meaning shown entirely false, with, in the end, no substance to it at all; and even in the passages displaying seeing, consciousness was again refuted alongside, compared against seeing and found wanting, without the slightest concession ever granted it. Why, then, at the eighteen elements, was it already granted to be the tathāgatagarbha mind, the wondrous, true nature of suchness — and why, here, is it praised all the more, as pervading the whole Dharma-realm, containing and giving forth the ten directions, the very whole substance of this same nature, equal to the utmost measure already granted to the revealed seeing-nature itself? How could it be utterly false before, and utterly true, to the fullest degree, now?" Answer: "The earlier passages speak in terms of a beginner's awakening and cultivation, which must proceed by way of skillful means — deciding clearly between true and false, discarding the root of birth and death, and taking hold of the wondrous mind of nirvāṇa — and so consciousness had to be refuted through and through, resolutely set aside, unused. The later passages speak in terms of the perfect understanding that interfuses everything without exception — no phenomenon that is not true, no phenomenon that is not suchness, down to every world-mote and every thought-instant and every kalpa, nothing but the one true Dharma-realm — how, then, could the discerning mind alone fail to be interfused with the Dharma-realm as well? The sūtra's own preliminary outline already holds both approaches together at once — reflect carefully on this, and the point becomes clear.

"The Zhǐzhǎng commentary says: the very reason consciousness becomes a source of harm lies precisely in not knowing it is false — for not knowing it is false, one inevitably comes to take it for true, and so never again seeks the true root beneath it; and so the tathāgatagarbha mind sinks, day after day, into the dust of ordinary feeling, delusion piling upon delusion, through kalpa after kalpa, never to return. But if one truly knows it is false, and does not take it for true, one must then still turn back and harmonize it into the tathāgatagarbha's own nature — for otherwise, one falls into total extinction, and the very wondrous, enlightened, bright function that contains and gives forth the ten directions sinks forever into an illusory, dead result, never to rise again through kalpa after kalpa of dust. This is exactly why those who reach only the wisdom that ends in a fixed destiny, never turning toward the greater path, are likened to scorched sprouts and rotten seeds — is this without reason? One should therefore understand: the earlier passages, refuting consciousness directly and refuting it obliquely alike, aim only to make its falseness fully understood; the later passages, harmonizing appearance and interfusing it with nature, aim only to make it understood that this very falseness is exactly truth — grasping the point and letting go of the means used to reach it. Those of shallow wisdom are simply not equal to walking this path."

"Fully manifesting the seven great elements as the pervading nature" is complete. Together with the sections above, this completes the greater division: "the Tathāgata refutes falseness and reveals truth."