Untie One, and All Six Come Undone

Sūtra: "Ānanda, you now wish to go against the very stream of desire that carries beings through birth and death, tracing this stream back to its own root, to what is unborn and unceasing. You should examine, among these six faculties of receptive use: which knows only through direct contact, and which knows at a distance? Which runs deep, and which lies shallow and plain to see? Which is perfectly penetrating, and which is not fully complete? If you can, in this way, awaken to the one truly perfect and penetrating faculty, and go against that beginningless, falsely woven current of karma, then, following this perfect faculty, you will advance a single day for every aeon it would otherwise take with an imperfect one."

Commentary: This directly instructs selecting the faculty and resolving the knot. This is the single most crucial point for a beginning student's actual starting work in practice. The passage above has already shown that the false knot lies exactly in the sense-faculty, and has told us, further, the merit each of the six faculties possesses, whether superior or inferior — precisely so that one may now select the perfect faculty and undo this knot. Hence the Buddha first has Ānanda examine the six faculties, so as to awaken to and take up the perfect one, entering directly through this single gate. This passage traces this back to the very capacity to give rise to a mind of ever-greater resolve. The first "wish," in the Chinese, points to the resolve itself, willingly desired; the second points to the desired objects of the five sense-fields. "Go against" means not following along with. There are two senses of "stream" here: spoken of in terms of cause, it is called the stream of desire — the sense-faculty's own nature no longer running out and rushing after its objects, no longer following the stream of desire toward the five sense-objects; spoken of in terms of fruit, it is called the stream of birth and death — the faculty conditioning its object, consciousness arising and discriminating, giving rise to delusion and creating karma, and, depending on this cause, receiving its corresponding fruit, flowing on through birth and death. To go against the stream of birth and death is exactly to turn the faculty back and free it from its object, faculty and object no longer paired together, so that affliction, karma, and suffering have nowhere left from which to arise — and, simply by no longer following after objects, one naturally no longer flows onward; put together, being able to go against the stream of desire, the stream of birth and death naturally no longer follows its course either.

"Tracing this stream back to its own root" means returning to the very origin, tracing the stream of birth and death back to its own source, doing the actual work of turning the stream backward to illuminate one's own nature. This is exactly like Avalokiteśvara, who, at the very start, within hearing itself, entered the stream and let go of what was heard, and, penetrating ever more deeply by degrees, untied the six knots and broke through the five aggregates — and once the aggregate of consciousness itself is broken through, the work of tracing the stream back to its own root is accomplished, falseness exhausted and truth laid bare. "To what is unborn and unceasing" is exactly "once arising and ceasing themselves have ceased, utter stillness stands revealed." This kind of resolve is exactly the earlier wish to make one's own seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing accord fully, at last, with the Tathāgata's own constancy, bliss, true self, and purity; and is likewise exactly giving rise to the mind of bodhi, and, with regard to the bodhisattva vehicle, giving rise to great courage. Reaching what is unborn and unceasing, one then partially realizes the Tathāgata's own constancy, bliss, true self, and purity, ascending to the first abiding of the perfect teaching, attaining mindfulness that never regresses, advancing in cultivation spontaneously from there — and so one can naturally, in time, perfectly accomplish the unsurpassed fruit of awakening.

The word "examine" is the Buddha's own careful admonition: the causal mind cannot be chosen carelessly. To seek the unborn, unceasing fruit, one must rely on an unborn, unceasing cause. Though the nature of the six sense-faculties is, in itself, unborn and unceasing, since they nonetheless differ in strength, one cannot but choose carefully among them. Wishing to make this choice, one must first examine them closely — these six faculties of receptive use, so called because each faculty is capable of receiving its own field of sense-objects, giving rise, in turn, to the function of seeing and the rest. The word "which" here directs this very examination: among the six faculties' reception of their objects, which knows only through direct contact, and which knows at a distance? The nose, tongue, and body know only through direct contact; the eye, ear, and mind know at a distance. Knowing through direct contact is difficult to cultivate; knowing at a distance is easy to enter through. Taking up, then, the three faculties that know at a distance, one examines further: which is shallow and plainly evident, and which runs deep and hidden, impossible to fathom? The mind-faculty runs deep and hidden, difficult to cultivate; the eye and ear are shallow and plainly evident, easy to enter through. Taking up, then, the eye and ear alone, one examines further still: which is perfectly penetrating, and which is not fully complete? "Perfectly penetrating" and "fully complete" carry the same meaning here — possessing the full twelve hundred units of merit makes a faculty perfectly penetrating, eight hundred makes it not fully complete. Following this threefold examination through to its conclusion, seeking what knows at a distance, is shallow and plainly evident, and is perfectly penetrating all at once, only the ear-faculty answers to every one of these. This passage is exactly the Tathāgata's own hidden indication that the ear-faculty is the perfectly penetrating faculty — without ever saying so outright to Ānanda, so that he might examine and awaken to this for himself; and once he has awakened to this perfect faculty, entering directly through this single gate, he can naturally undo the knot and escape entanglement entirely!

This passage follows directly from the section above: if one can, among these six faculties, awaken to and take up this perfectly penetrating, original faculty, one need only rely on this single faculty to do the actual work of turning the stream backward. "That" refers to the faculty — that is, the consciousness's own essential, original brightness, which, from beginningless time, has carried within it a portion of falseness, the false mind and its false objects interweaving with one another, so that a current of karma results; and, depending on this karma, one receives its corresponding retribution, adrift in birth and death — hence "current of karma." If one truly wishes to go against this current of karma, one must select the perfectly penetrating faculty. "Following" here means going along with — following and cultivating through this perfect faculty is like a sail hoisted with a following current; cultivating instead through an imperfect faculty differs from this in speed, to the point that a single day, with the perfect faculty, may accomplish what would otherwise take an aeon. The later passage speaking of "transcending even the stage beyond further training in a mere finger-snap" is exactly this same following of the perfect faculty.

Sūtra: "I have now shown you fully how each of the six faculties, calm, perfect, and bright, possesses this same original merit, in this very number — twelve hundred, or eight hundred, as I have described. Choose carefully, then, among them, whichever one you may enter through, and I will make it plain for you, so that you may advance. All the Tathāgatas of the ten directions, cultivating through each of the eighteen elements in turn, have equally attained unsurpassed bodhi, perfectly complete — among these elements there is, in truth, no superior or inferior at all. But you remain of inferior capacity, not yet able to attain, among them, a wisdom perfectly free and at ease — and it is for this reason that I have set forth this teaching, having you enter through a single gate alone. Enter through this one faculty, free of falseness, and these six faculties of knowing will, all at once, become pure."

Commentary: "Shown fully" means shown in its entirety. The first four lines here point back to what came before: I have now shown you in full that each of the six sense-faculties originally possesses this same twelve hundred units of merit, and yet, while still in a deluded state, each is confined by its own faculty and limited by its own object, and so cannot help but differ, some superior, some inferior. And I have, further, shown you in full their differing measure of merit, exactly as already explained in the passage above.

"Calm, perfect, and bright" names the very meaning shared by all six faculties. As was said earlier: "dividing your own calm, perfect, wondrously aware, bright nature into seeing, hearing, sensing, and discerning." One thus knows that the very nature within the six faculties is this same calm, perfect, bright nature. Choosing carefully among the six faculties which one is the most perfect, and so may serve as the very gate one enters through to begin cultivation and realization, I will make this plain for you, resolving the knot in due sequence, penetrating ever more deeply by degrees, so that you may advance. "Whichever one you may enter through" likewise points, in hidden fashion, to the ear-faculty — the Buddha does not say so outright, but teaches only that one must choose carefully, carrying the very same intention as his earlier teaching on awakening: wanting Ānanda to awaken and choose for himself, to cultivate and realize for himself. Awakening and choosing are not quite the same thing — clear and free of doubt is called awakening; decisively taking something up and putting it to use is called choosing. What follows now makes plain why this particular choice should be made.

All the Tathāgatas of the ten directions, resolving at the causal stage, attained a wisdom perfectly free and at ease, and so, with regard to the eighteen elements, encompass the seven great elements as well: the six sense-objects encompass five of the great elements — space, too, being a form-dharma, faced by the eye-faculty; the six sense-faculties encompass the great element of seeing; the six consciousnesses encompass the great element of consciousness — and every one of these twenty-five approaches is itself a genuine path, each capable, cultivated on its own, of bringing one to perfectly complete, unsurpassed bodhi, the ultimate fruit itself. Among the eighteen elements and seven great elements, the sagely nature penetrates every one without exception, following or going against the current equally serving as skillful means — with no superior or inferior to be distinguished among them at all.

This states the reason for choosing carefully. The passage above concerns the Buddhas' own capacity, transcendent and supreme, every dharma equal to every other, and so every gate may be entered through equally — but your own capacity remains of inferior grade, the affliction of thought still present, unable, among all these dharmas, to attain a wisdom perfectly interfused and at ease, unable to awaken to the fact that every single dharma is nothing but mind itself, originally without any superior or inferior at all. Hence I set forth this teaching that the faculties do, in fact, differ in strength, so that you might examine and confirm this clearly, and choose only the single most perfectly complete faculty, doing the actual work of turning the stream backward and resolving the knot, entering directly through this one gate. This is exactly the Tathāgata's own skillful means, opened specially for the beginning student. Master Jiaoguang accordingly identifies the earlier section on wondrous śamatha — awakening to the perfect principle — as the very first skillful means; this present section, on wondrous samādhi, giving rise to perfect cultivation, as the first skillful means proper; and the section to follow, on wondrous dhyāna, attaining perfect realization, as its own skillful means — and this captures the Buddha's own intention exceedingly well.

This follows from "entering directly through a single gate" above: proceeding from this one faculty, one thereby unties all six knots, entering into the ground of the single truth, free of every falseness — this does not mean, laterally, that the six faculties themselves are the six knots, but rather, vertically, that each and every faculty itself carries all six knots within it. This "knot" is exactly the false knot arising out of truth; the six knots are exactly the five aggregates — arising, the aggregate of consciousness comes first, growing from the subtlest beginning into ever-greater manifestation, one, two, three, four, five, six, the aggregate of form itself accounting for the fifth and sixth knots together; untying, one proceeds instead from the coarsest to the subtlest, six, five, four, three, two, one, the aggregate of form breaking through first. "Penetrating ever more deeply" means untying the knot in due sequence — exactly as Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, at the very start, within hearing itself, entered the stream and let go of what was heard, and, penetrating ever more deeply by degrees, untied the knot of motion, the knot of stillness, the knot of the faculty itself, the knot of awareness, the knot of emptiness, and the knot of extinction — and only once all six knots are entirely untied does one enter the ground of the single truth, free of every falseness. That faculty of knowing among the six, whichever one carries this knot, following whichever faculty one has entered through, once untied there, is untied everywhere at once — exactly as a later passage puts it: every other one of the five remaining points of adherence should likewise be pulled free and perfectly liberated together, so that all six faculties, all at once, become pure alike. The six faculties becoming pure is exactly the six faculties opening and closing freely — opening a single faculty to serve the function of all six, or closing all six functions back into this single faculty, each interchangeably pure. This is likewise exactly what a later verse puts: "once a single faculty has returned to its own source, all six faculties attain liberation together." Everything above proceeds from awakening to cultivation, and from cultivation to realization — this closes out the full cycle of teaching how the knot is resolved, and, with it, the first section teaching how to resolve the knot at the sense-faculty itself.

Sūtra: Ānanda said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, how does one actually go against the stream? How does one actually enter deeply through a single gate? And how can this cause all six faculties to become pure at once?"

Commentary: Ānanda, taking up the Buddha's own preceding words — validating the six faculties and awakening to the perfect one, entering the one and thereby resolving all six — has not yet fully grasped their meaning, and so asks again. His question actually carries three distinct meanings: first, the Buddha said, "if you can, in this way, awaken to the one truly perfect and penetrating faculty, and go against that beginningless, falsely woven current of karma" — but how, in the end, does one actually go against this stream? Second, the Buddha said, "it is for this reason that I have set forth this teaching, having you enter through a single gate alone" — but how does one actually enter deeply through this single gate? Third, the Buddha said, "enter through this one faculty, free of falseness, and these six faculties of knowing will, all at once, become pure" — but how can entering the stream through a single faculty cause all six faculties to become pure at once? All three of these meanings remain not yet fully grasped, hence he asks again. The words "how" govern all three uses that follow.

Sūtra: The Buddha said to Ānanda: "You have now already attained the fruit of a srota-āpanna, and have already extinguished the affliction, cut off through seeing, belonging to sentient beings' own worldly existence within the three realms. And yet you still do not know the beginningless, false habituation accumulated across many lives, present even now within your own sense-faculties — a habituation that can only be severed through the power of actual cultivation. How much more so, then, the countless subdivisions of arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing hidden within it?"

Commentary: Here the Buddha, taking up Ānanda's own question, restates what he taught before, simply making it more fully detailed and plain. First, though Ānanda's own discriminated attachment to self has already been broken, the innate, ever-present attachment to self remains entirely intact, and it is exactly this that keeps him following after the stream of desire — this is precisely what must be gone against. The first five lines here first commend him for having already extinguished the affliction cut off through seeing; the middle five lines then temper this by pointing out that the affliction of thought remains unsevered; the final three lines go further still, revealing the countless subdivisions of ignorance itself.

The Buddha tells Ānanda: you have now already attained the fruit of a srota-āpanna, that is, the first fruit. The Sanskrit srota-āpanna is rendered "entering the stream" — first seeing the truth of ultimate reality, first joining the stream of the sages, entering the path of seeing, also called "entering the stream." As the Diamond Sūtra says: "srota-āpanna is called entering the stream" — and the Buddha himself explains this as "not entering form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or mind-objects," that is, turning one's back on the desired objects of the five senses; mind-objects being the shadow cast by the other five, not entering any of these sense-objects is exactly not entering the stream of desire, and instead entering the stream of the Dharma. The passage above spoke of "going against the very stream of desire that carries beings through birth and death." Ānanda has already extinguished, within the three realms, the affliction of discriminated attachment to self cut off at the path of seeing, belonging to sentient beings' own worldly existence. The Tiantai school holds that severing the view-affliction of the three realms — the eighty-eight fundamental afflictions — is what makes one capable of going against the stream of desire; since the eighty-one grades of the affliction of thought remain unsevered, one cannot yet go against the stream of birth-and-death by segments.

The middle five lines temper this: and yet you still do not know the beginningless, false habituation accumulated, even now, within your own sense-faculties. "Accumulated" means built up across many lives; "beginningless" points back to that very first single thought stirring falsely, growing from the root into ever more elaborate branches; this false habitual tendency refers to the innate, ever-present affliction of attachment to self, carried along, life after life, born together with birth itself. The Tiantai school holds this to be the affliction of thought across the three realms' nine levels, eighty-one grades in all. "That habituation" refers to exactly this affliction, severable only through the power of actual cultivation, at the stage of the path of cultivation.

Ānanda, at the stage of the first fruit, must still undergo seven more returns to birth, among gods and humans alike, before he can sever the nine grades of the affliction of thought belonging to the desire realm: the highest of the upper grades takes two lifetimes to sever on its own; the middle and lower of the upper grades, together with the highest of the middle grades, each take one lifetime apiece; the middle two grades of the middle level are severed together within a single lifetime — six lifetimes in all. Having severed six grades of the desire realm's affliction of thought, one realizes the second fruit, called sakṛdāgāmin, "one who comes and goes once more" — still requiring one further return to birth among gods and humans. Severing the remaining three grades of the lower level, one realizes the third fruit, called anāgāmin, "one who does not return" — the nine grades of the desire realm's affliction of thought now entirely severed, with no cause left to draw forth any further fruit, one departs the desire realm entirely, never again returning there to receive birth, dwelling instead among the five non-returner heavens within the fourth dhyāna, advancing to sever the remaining affliction of thought belonging to the eight higher levels, seventy-two grades in all, and thereby becoming a fourth-fruit arhat. Ānanda remains, at this point, still far from the rank of arhat.

"How much more so, then, the countless subdivisions of arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing hidden within it?" This points to the discriminated and innate attachment to dharmas, and to ignorance itself — what the Tiantai school calls "ignorance as numerous as motes of dust and sand." "How much more so" turns the point around by contrast: if even the innate attachment to self remains unknown to you, how much more so the ignorance of attachment to dharmas? Arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing are the ignorance belonging to these four marks. According to the Awakening of Faith, among the three subtle marks, the karmic mark is the mark of arising, since it is the very first thing to arise, from the mind's own unenlightened stirring; the turning mark and the manifesting mark, together with the mark of intellect and the mark of continuity among the six coarse marks, are all marks of abiding, since subject and object stand opposed to one another there, and attachment to dharmas grows firmly fixed; the marks of grasping-and-clinging and conceptualized names are marks of changing, since attachment to a self and to what belongs to a self, and the attachment distinguishing self from others, take shape there; and the mark of initiating karma is the mark of ceasing, since it reaches there its own final, exhaustive limit. "Subdivisions" means the boundaries and limits dividing these four marks from one another; "countless" means that, examined closely, each of these four marks itself contains all four marks again in turn, endlessly ramifying, their number without limit — hence the fourfold universal vow's own line, "afflictions are inexhaustible, I vow to sever them all." These countless subdivisions are not something the two lesser vehicles can ever know. This section directly answers Ānanda's own question, "how does one go against the stream": the innate affliction of attachment to self, and the ignorance of attachment to dharmas, not yet severed by you, are exactly the two streams of birth-and-death by segments and by mutation — and it is exactly these you must go against and sever.

Sūtra: "Now, consider this: are these present six sense-faculties one, or are they six? Ānanda, if you say they are one, then why does the ear not see, and the eye not hear? Why does the head not walk, and the foot not speak? And if these six sense-faculties are decisively six, then, just now, as I gather with you here to proclaim this subtle and wondrous teaching, which of your six faculties receives it?" Ānanda said: "I use my ear to hear it." The Buddha said: "If your ear alone hears it of itself, what does this have to do with your body or your mouth? Why, then, does your mouth come forward to ask about its meaning, and your body rise up to show its reverence?" "You should therefore know: if not one, then in the end six; if not six, then in the end one — you must never say that your own faculties are, at root, simply one, or, at root, simply six. Ānanda, you should know that this sense-faculty is neither one nor six. It is only because of beginningless inversion and endless transmigration that the very idea of 'one' and of 'six' arises within what is, in truth, perfectly calm. You, a srota-āpanna, though you have already dissolved the six, have not yet let go of the one."

Commentary: What follows now answers Ānanda's second and third questions: how does one, among the six sense-faculties, choose only a single gate to enter deeply through? And how does entering through the one, free of falseness, cause all six faculties to become pure together? Both of these remain ungrasped so long as the ordinary notions of "one" and "six" have not yet been let go of entirely. Hence the Buddha has him examine closely whether these present six sense-faculties are fixedly one, or fixedly six — this first poses the question both ways at once. What follows, beginning with "Ānanda," refutes the notion that they are one as false. Hence the Buddha addresses Ānanda directly: if you say the six faculties are decisively one, then their function ought to interchange freely — so why does the ear not see, and the eye not hear? Why does the head not walk, and the foot not speak? Since they plainly cannot exchange their functions with one another, one thus knows that taking them to be one is mistaken.

This refutes the notion that they are six as false. If these six sense-faculties' own substance were decisively six, their functions ought never to follow one another at all. Yet just now, as I gather with you here to proclaim this subtle and wondrous teaching — referring to this very sūtra's own teaching of complete meaning — which single one of your six faculties receives it? Ānanda answers: I use my ear-faculty to hear the Buddha's own wondrous teaching. The Buddha says: if your ear alone hears it of itself, what does this have to do with the affairs of your body and mouth at all? Why, then, do we plainly see your mouth come forward to ask about its meaning, and your body rise up to show its reverence? Since these plainly interconnect with one another, one thus knows that taking them to be six is likewise mistaken.

Because both positions — one and six — are alike false, this follows directly from the meaning above. One should know: if not one, then in the end six — "in the end" meaning ultimately — since they are not one, they must, in the end, be six; and their function ought never to follow one another at all — so why, then, does the ear hear the Buddha's teaching while the mouth comes forward to ask about it? The next line: since they are not six, they must, in the end, be one; and their function ought to interchange freely — so why, then, can the ear not see, and the eye not hear? One must never say that your own six sense-faculties are, at root, simply one, or, at root, simply six.

Since this sense-faculty can be said to be neither simply one nor simply six, and yet cannot be said to be neither-one-nor-six either — why is this so? One should understand: before this sense-faculty was ever tied into its knot, it had, at root, no fixed number to it at all — hence "neither one nor six." And it is exactly because it is neither one nor six that neither "one" nor "six" may properly be asserted of it in the first place. From beginningless time, falseness has arisen out of truth, and, depending on this delusion, karma has been created — this is called inversion; and, depending on this karma, retribution has been received — this is called endless transmigration; sunk in the ocean of suffering, birth and death alternating without end, being born only to die, dying only to be born again, alternating on and on without ever stopping. And once there is birth, there are the six sense-faculties — hence, within what is, in its own nature, perfectly complete and calm, constantly free of any "one" or "six" at all, the very idea of "one" and of "six" arises: originally relying on a single essential brightness, it divides itself into six combined faculties. Nor, then, can one say it is "neither one nor six" either. "You, a srota-āpanna" refers to Ānanda, already having realized the first fruit, no longer entering form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or mind-objects — hence "though you have already dissolved the six." Note the words "already dissolved": this means only that the six functions no longer operate, freed from the six sense-objects — it does not mean that the very substance of the knot in the sense-faculty has been entirely dissolved — hence "you have not yet let go of the one." Following Master Gushan's own reading, this refers to still clinging to the notion that there is some fixed nirvāṇa to be had.

Sūtra: "It is like the great empty space, poured together into a whole set of different vessels: because the vessels differ in shape, one comes to call the space within them by different names — but remove the vessels and observe the space itself, and this space is simply one. How, then, could this great empty space ever, for your sake, actually become the same or become different? How much less could it ever properly be named 'one' or 'not one'? And you should understand clearly: these six faculties of receptive use are exactly the same."

Commentary: This makes the point plain through an analogy. The first four lines illustrate how six comes to appear out of what is one; the last two illustrate removing the six and speaking, instead, of one. Empty space stands for the perfectly calm nature itself; the whole set of vessels stands for the appearance of the six sense-faculties. The great empty space originally has no form or appearance of its own at all, and so cannot properly be said to be the same as anything or different from anything — yet once poured together into a whole set of different vessels, because the vessels themselves differ in shape — long, short, square, round, large, small, six kinds of differing appearance — the space within likewise comes to be named according to its vessel, given differing names such as "square space" or "round space." Though empty space takes on these appearances according to its conditions, its own substance never actually changes; remove the differing shapes of the vessels and observe the space itself, and one may then call this space simply "one" — "one" here meaning "the same." But it is not only that calling it "different" is false — how could calling it "the same" ever be true either? This "sameness" is only set up in opposition to "difference" in the first place — exactly as a later verse in the sūtra puts it: "speaking of falsehood reveals what is true; but falsehood and truth alike are still both false."

This analogy shows that sameness and difference alike have nothing to do with the true substance itself. That great empty space, observed with the vessels removed, appears the same, as one; poured together with the vessels, appears different — yet whether the vessels are present or removed has, in truth, nothing whatsoever to do with empty space itself. Hence: how, then, could this great empty space ever, for your sake, actually become the same or become different? Seeing it as the same, or seeing it as different, is, in this sense, already a false way of seeing — how much more so, then, to go further still and set up the very names "one" or "not one"? Is this not simply piling falseness upon falseness?

This now applies the analogy to the doctrine directly. You should understand clearly, then, that these six faculties of receptive use are exactly the same as this very analogy just given. The sense-faculty's own perfectly calm, unborn, unceasing nature corresponds to the analogy of the great empty space itself; the sense-faculty's own nature originally having no "one" or "six" to it at all corresponds to empty space originally having no "same" or "different" to it at all. Becoming tied into a knot and forming a sense-faculty, and, because these faculties differ from one another, being spoken of as "six," corresponds to the analogy of space poured together into a whole set of different vessels, and so named differently. Untying this knot in the sense-faculty and speaking, instead, of this nature as "one," corresponds to removing the vessels and observing the space itself, calling this space simply "one." One should understand: to remain tied in the knot of the sense-faculty and speak of this nature as "six" is certainly false — but to untie this knot and speak of this same nature as "one" is likewise not true either. How, then, could this perfectly calm nature ever actually become "one" or become "six" for your own sake? This corresponds to "how, then, could this great empty space ever, for your sake, actually become the same or become different?" Since neither "one" nor "six" can properly be asserted of the sense-faculty's own nature in the first place, how much less could one go on to assert that it is "neither one nor six" either? This corresponds to "how much less could it ever properly be named 'one' or 'not one'?"

Sūtra: "It is by these two conditions of light — brightness and darkness — mutually giving shape to one another that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to seeing. This essence of seeing, reflecting form, gathers form and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the substance of the eye — like a grape hanging on its stem — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after form. It is by these two conditions of sound — motion and stillness — mutually striking against one another that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to hearing. This essence of hearing, reflecting sound, curls sound inward and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the substance of the ear — like a newly curled leaf — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after sound. It is by these two conditions of smell — passage and obstruction — mutually bringing each other out that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to smelling. This essence of smelling, reflecting scent, draws scent in and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the substance of the nose — like a pair of hanging claws — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after scent. It is by these two conditions of taste — blandness and change — mutually mingling with one another that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to tasting. This essence of tasting, reflecting flavor, wrings flavor out and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the substance of the tongue — like a crescent moon lying on its back — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after flavor. It is by these two conditions of touch — separation and contact — mutually rubbing against one another that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to sensing. This essence of sensing, reflecting touch, gathers touch together and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the substance of the body — like the head of a waist-drum — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after touch. It is by these two conditions of thought — arising and ceasing — continuing on, one after the other, that, within this wondrous, perfect nature, awareness sticks to what is calm and gives rise to knowing. This essence of knowing, reflecting mind-objects, takes hold of these objects and forms itself into a sense-faculty; this faculty's own root is called the pure four elements, and, because of this, is named the very thought of the mind-faculty — like seeing something in a darkened room — while the faculty's own visible, dust-born form, made of the four sense-objects, runs outward, rushing after mind-objects. Ānanda, all six sense-faculties, in just this way, come about through that very awareness's own brightness: adding brightness to brightness turns this awareness itself into a mere 'bright awareness,' losing its own original, essential, luminous clarity — and, sticking to this very falseness, they give off this light."

Commentary: This shows how a sense-faculty forms by taking hold of its own sense-object, explaining exactly how one nature comes to appear as six. The first four lines of each passage form the essence of seeing (and its parallel for the other five). Within any single sense-faculty there are, in fact, three distinct components: the essence of seeing itself; the faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense; and the faculty in its coarse, physical sense — and the same holds for all five other faculties, substituting hearing, smelling, tasting, sensing, or knowing for "seeing" throughout. This passage traces the eye-faculty's own origin: it comes about because brightness and darkness, two kinds of visible sense-object, mutually give shape to one another within the wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature — this nature being the true nature itself, perfectly complete and calm — and it is this very mutual drawing-together of brightness and darkness that is at work here. One should understand that the very appearance of brightness and darkness comes about because ignorance stirs falsely, turning the wondrously bright, true emptiness into a darkened, obscured emptiness — like the sun screened behind clouds: though not entirely dark, brightness and darkness mingling together produces this very obscurity, exactly where truth and falseness combine. It is by sticking to this that the calm substance is stirred up, giving rise to the essence of seeing — belonging to the eighth consciousness's own seeing-portion. "This essence of seeing, reflecting form, gathers form and forms itself into a sense-faculty": these four lines form the eye-faculty in its subtle sense — by means of this essence of seeing confronting and reflecting the sense-object of form, it thereby takes hold of this form and gathers this outer form into the inner four elements, forming the eye-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. "This faculty's own root is called the pure four elements": this faculty is the very origin of the coarse, physical faculty, said to be formed of the pure four elements — for although its own appearance does, in fact, belong to the four elements, it is exceedingly subtle, visible only to a sage's eye or a heavenly eye, never to an ordinary eye at all.

"And, because of this, is named the substance of the eye — like a grape hanging on its stem": these four lines form the coarse, physical faculty. "Because of this" means depending on — depending on the subtle faculty, the coarse, physical faculty comes to be, named the substance of the physical eye, shaped like a grape hanging on its stem, that is, the eyeball itself. This coarse, physical faculty is said to be formed of the four sense-objects — though, in fact, both the coarse and the subtle faculties alike are formed from all eight things together: the four elements of earth, water, fire, and wind, together with the four sense-objects of form, scent, flavor, and touch. That the subtle faculty is spoken of only in terms of the four elements, and the coarse faculty only in terms of the four sense-objects, is simply each standing in, by implication, for the other.

"Runs outward, rushing after form": once the coarse, physical faculty has formed, sentient beings gather their seeing into the eye, the essence of seeing relying on this faculty to go forth, daily confronting form as its object, the faculty following wherever its object turns, circling on and on after form without any restraint, daily running headlong after the realm of form as its object — the faculty confined by its object, unable to transcend the realm of form at all, and, from this point on, permanently turned away from the ear and every other faculty in kind. The earlier image — "because the vessels differ in shape, one comes to call the space within them by different names" — is exactly what this illustrates. "Runs outward, rushing after form": the Bǎojìng commentary offers three images for this: flowing, like an angry wave rushing down into a ravine; running loose, like fire let loose to burn across a mountainside; and rushing headlong, like a swift horse galloping down a slope. Such is the force of this current, following its own course and impossible to check — and if one wishes to dissolve this sense-object and untie this knot, without some means of cutting this very current off, how could one ever hope to control it at all?

This traces the ear-faculty's own origin: it comes about because motion and stillness, two kinds of sound as sense-object, mutually strike against one another — motion striking against stillness causes stillness to vanish, stillness striking against motion causes motion to cease — and, within this wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature, this very striking draws out the calm substance, giving rise to the essence of hearing; these four lines form the essence of hearing. The essence of hearing, confronting and reflecting sound as its object, curls this sound inward and forms itself into a faculty — this faculty being the very origin of the coarse, physical faculty, said to be formed of the pure four elements, its own appearance exceedingly subtle; these four lines curl this outer sound inward, forming the inner four elements, the ear-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. The next four lines, "named the substance of the ear" and what follows, form the coarse, physical faculty. "Because of this" means depending on — this faculty, depending on the subtle faculty, comes to be, named the substance of the physical ear, shaped like a freshly curled lotus leaf. This coarse faculty is formed of the four sense-objects, standing in for the four elements exactly as explained above. This faculty follows wherever its object turns, running outward all day long, rushing after the realm of sound as its object.

This traces the nose-faculty's own origin: it comes about because passage and obstruction, two kinds of scent as sense-object, mutually bring each other out — passage bringing out the fact that it is not obstruction, obstruction bringing out the fact that it is not passage — and, within this wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature, this sticks and draws out the calm substance, giving rise to the essence of smelling; these four lines form the essence of smelling. The essence of smelling, confronting and reflecting scent as its object, draws this scent in and forms itself into a faculty, this faculty's own root said to be formed of the pure four elements, its own appearance exceedingly subtle; these four lines draw this outer scent inward, forming the inner four elements, the nose-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. The next four lines, "named the substance of the nose" and what follows, form the coarse, physical faculty. "Because of this" means depending on — this faculty, depending on the subtle faculty, comes to be, named the substance of the physical nose, shaped like a pair of claws hanging downward. This coarse faculty is formed of the four sense-objects, standing in for the four elements exactly as above. It runs outward all day long, rushing after the realm of scent as its object.

This traces the tongue-faculty's own origin: it comes about because blandness and change — "blandness" meaning the calm absence of flavor, "change" meaning the shifting presence of flavor — two kinds of false sense-object, mutually mingle with one another, blandness making change known, change making blandness known — and, within this wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature, this sticks and draws out the calm substance, giving rise to the essence of tasting; these four lines form the essence of tasting. The essence of tasting, confronting flavor as its object, wrings this flavor out and forms itself into a faculty, this faculty's own root said to be formed of the pure four elements. These four lines wring this outer flavor out, forming the inner four elements, the tongue-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. The next four lines, "named the substance of the tongue" and what follows, form the coarse, physical faculty. This faculty, depending on the subtle faculty, comes to be, named the substance of the physical tongue, shaped like a crescent moon lying on its back — the tongue's own shape being rounded, like the first crescent of the new moon, a half-round shape. This coarse faculty, too, is formed of all eight things, the four elements and four sense-objects together — speaking only of the four sense-objects here simply stands in, by implication, for the four elements of the subtle faculty above. It runs outward all day long, rushing after the realm of flavor as its object.

This traces the body-faculty's own origin: it comes about because of separation and contact — the body-faculty having two kinds of false sense-object, knowing through separation and knowing through contact, rubbing against one another at their very boundary — and, within this wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature, this sticks and draws out the calm substance, giving rise to the essence of sensing; these four lines form the essence of sensing. The essence of sensing, confronting touch as its object, gathers this touch together to form the body-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. "This faculty's own root," meaning what is capable of becoming the very origin of the coarse, physical faculty, is said to be formed of the pure four elements, its own appearance exceedingly subtle. The next four lines, "named the substance of the body" and what follows, form the coarse, physical faculty. This faculty, depending on the subtle faculty, comes to be, named the substance of the physical body, shaped like the head of a waist-drum — a waist-drum being what is commonly called a staff-drum, narrow at its waist, its two ends stretched over with hide; shaped like a human body, its "head" being the drum's own hollow chamber. This coarse faculty, too, is formed of all eight things, the four elements and four sense-objects together. It runs outward all day long, rushing after the realm of touch as its object.

This traces the mind-faculty's own origin: it comes about because arising and ceasing, two kinds of false sense-object, continue on one after the other — arising followed in turn by ceasing, ceasing followed in turn by arising, arising and ceasing continuing on without end — and, within this wondrously aware, perfectly calm nature, this sticks and draws out the calm substance, giving rise to the essence of knowing; these four lines form the essence of knowing. The essence of knowing, confronting mind-objects, takes hold of these objects to form the mind-faculty in its subtle, "superior" sense. "This faculty's own root," being the very origin of the coarse, physical faculty, is said to be formed of the pure four elements, its own appearance exceedingly subtle. The next four lines, "named the very thought of the mind-faculty," form the coarse, physical faculty — not called "the substance of the mind" but rather "the thought of the mind," since the mind-faculty's own coarse, physical form is exactly the fleshly heart itself. Master Gushan, citing the Sūtra on the Foundations of Mindfulness of the True Dharma, describes it as shaped like a lotus flower, opening by day and closing by night — present within the human body yet impossible to see directly, hence the use of the word "thought" here, to indicate the very place where deliberation occurs, that is, exactly where the mind-faculty itself is located. "Like seeing something in a darkened room": the mind-faculty lies within, like a person in a darkened room perceiving objects by feel — the mind-faculty illuminating mind-objects from within is exactly the same. Its coarse, physical form, made of the four sense-objects, should be understood exactly as explained above. It runs outward all day long, rushing after the realm of mind-objects as its own object. Everything above explained each faculty separately; what follows now draws them together in a single, general conclusion.

This gathers together, in conclusion, how the knot in the sense-faculty comes about through falseness — still pointing to the very nature within all six faculties. Ānanda, the nature of these six sense-faculties is, in itself, originally true. "That very awareness's own brightness" is exactly the nature of awareness's own wondrous brightness — genuine awareness, genuine brightness. "Adding brightness to brightness turns this awareness itself into a mere bright awareness": the first "brightness" here is exactly that very first single thought, wishing to add brightness to the nature of awareness itself — and it is because of this single thought stirring falsely that wondrous brightness is turned into ignorance, and the nature of awareness turned into a merely false awareness. "Bright awareness," in this second occurrence, means exactly this false brightness, this false awareness. These two lines are exactly "the nature of awareness is necessarily bright; mistakenly, this becomes awareness that is bright" — falseness arising out of truth, truth concealed the moment falseness arises — hence "losing its own original, essential, luminous clarity": becoming this false brightness, no longer to be called the wondrous, essential brightness itself, this is exactly the eighth consciousness's own seeing-portion. Though its own substance remains, at root, true, its function has, in the end, become constantly false — the Tathāgata's earlier tenfold revealing of true seeing showed only its truth; the two false kinds of seeing, dissected afterward, refuted only its falseness. "Sticking to this very falseness, they give off this light": the earlier phrase, "sticks to what is calm and gives rise to seeing" and the rest, describes false sense-objects sticking to the calm, true nature, and thereby giving rise to the six essences of seeing and the rest; this present phrase describes the true nature itself sticking to these false objects, and thereby giving off the light of this very seeing-portion. Originally a single essential brightness, it is only because of taking hold of sense-objects and tying itself into the knot of a sense-faculty that, once the six sense-faculties have formed, this single essence divides itself into the six functions of seeing and the rest — that is, divides itself into six combined faculties. These two words, "sticking to falseness," are exactly the very root from which every sense-faculty comes to be formed in the first place.

Sūtra: "This is exactly why, for you now: apart from darkness, apart from brightness, there is no substance to seeing at all; apart from motion, apart from stillness, there was never, at root, any material substance to hearing; without passage, without obstruction, the nature of smelling does not even arise; without change, without blandness, tasting has nowhere from which to emerge; without separation, without contact, sensing itself has no basis at all; without ceasing, without arising, where, then, could knowing possibly find anywhere to lodge?"

Commentary: The section above discussed each sense-faculty separately, showing how it forms by taking hold of its own object; this section now discusses them all together, showing that, apart from the sense-object, there is no knot at all. In every case, the first half of each line names the object let go of, the second half the knot no longer found. And where the section above named exactly the current one must go against, this present section names exactly the method by which one goes against it. For running after the sense-object is precisely flowing outward, and letting this object go is precisely going against the stream. This is exactly why, for you now: if you are able to let go of both brightness and darkness together, there naturally remains no false substance gathering seeing into the eye, tied fast into a sense-faculty. This substance, formed only by taking hold of form and tying itself into a knot, is not the same as the constant substance whose illuminating function is free and unhindered. The same holds, by the same logic, for the other five faculties in turn. "There was never, at root, any material substance to hearing" — "substance" here means the same as "material substance" above. This line, "there is no substance," must be studied closely until fully understood: there are, in fact, two distinct substances here, one true and one false — the false substance is this very gathering of seeing into the eye, formed by taking hold of a sense-object and tying itself into a knot; the true substance is the original, bright, illuminating function itself, the constant light shining alone — one must not confuse the two, or fall into the very same misreading and mistaken objection Ānanda himself is about to raise.

Sūtra: "You need only stop following after these twelve conditioned appearances — motion, stillness, contact, separation, blandness, change, passage, obstruction, arising, ceasing, brightness, and darkness. Pull free from any single faculty among these, and it slips loose from what it clings to and turns inward to subside; subsiding, it returns to its own original truth, and gives off its own original, bright radiance. Once this radiant nature shines forth, every other one of the five remaining points of adherence should likewise be pulled free and perfectly liberated together."

Commentary: "Following" means going along with. To stop following after these twelve conditioned appearances is exactly to stop flowing outward and rushing after sense-objects. That motion and stillness are named first among the twelve is a hidden indication that the ear-faculty is the one to be used. This directly teaches the actual work of letting go of sense-objects, which must proceed by resolving the knot at the sense-faculty itself. How, then, does one actually untie it? One need only turn the faculty back upon itself, and letting go of the object follows naturally. This "stop following" is exactly the earlier "not following after discrimination," not letting the three continuities of world, karma-fruit, and sentient beings arise — and is likewise exactly wishing to go against the very stream of desire that carries beings through birth and death. The meaning of "going against" here is likewise exactly Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's own achievement of entering the stream and resolving the knot — utterly simple, utterly essential, the most sudden and complete of all, the very method of cultivation belonging to the one vehicle itself. Anyone with a genuine aspiration toward the Śūraṅgama should give these two words, "stop following," their most careful attention! This is exactly the path leading to the door of the magnificent house; the ear-faculty selected in what follows is exactly the true gate by which one enters that house.

"Pull free" means to select and draw out, corresponding directly to the earlier passage: "if you can, in this way, awaken to the one truly perfect and penetrating faculty, and go against that beginningless, falsely woven current of karma, then, following this perfect faculty, you will advance a single day for every aeon it would otherwise take with an imperfect one." "Pull free from any single faculty" means pulling out and selecting whichever single faculty you choose — it must be the perfectly penetrating faculty — and simply cultivating by relying on this one alone; there is no need to cultivate all six faculties equally at once.

"It slips loose from what it clings to and turns inward to subside; subsiding, it returns to its own original truth": slipping loose from what it clings to is exactly letting go of the sense-object; turning inward to subside is exactly illuminating one's own nature. Slipping loose from the false sense-object it had clung to, one returns to one's own originally possessed, constant light; turning inward to subside is turning the light back upon itself, illuminating this very nature — simply proceeding through this single gate, going against the stream and penetrating deeply, resolving the knot and breaking through the aggregates, subsiding and returning to this original, single, true mind. Once false delusion is exhausted, this original brightness naturally comes forth of itself — hence "gives off its own original, bright radiance," exactly what is meant by "once purity is complete, this light penetrates through everywhere."

And this passage, describing the actual work of resolving the knot at the sense-faculty and cultivating and realizing it in due sequence, is exactly taking up the mental light one already, originally possesses, letting go of the sense-object and illuminating one's own nature — this is cultivation that requires no [further] cultivation; and attaining perfect penetration in this way is realization that requires no [further] realization — this, too, is exactly "the teaching of complete meaning" named in the sūtra's own title, for cultivation and realization alike. Matched now against Avalokiteśvara's own method of hearing, reflecting, and cultivating, in its beginning, middle, and final stages in turn: "slips loose from what it clings to" corresponds to the very beginning, within hearing itself, entering the stream and letting go of what was heard — once what is entered upon grows still, the two marks of motion and stillness become plainly unarising, untying the two knots of motion and stillness, breaking through the aggregate of form; "turns inward to subside" corresponds to increasing steadily from there, until even what is heard, and the very hearing of it, are both exhausted, untying the knot of the faculty itself, breaking through the aggregate of sensation; "subsiding, it returns to its own original truth" corresponds to this exhaustion itself no longer being dwelt upon, penetrating ever more deeply by degrees, until arising and ceasing themselves have ceased, untying the three knots of awareness, emptiness, and extinction, breaking through the three aggregates of perception, formations, and consciousness; "gives off its own original, bright radiance" corresponds to utter stillness now standing revealed, this originally possessed, wondrously bright, radiant nature coming forth at last. Once this radiant nature shines forth, it penetrates through heaven and earth alike, illuminating past and present without distinction, obstructed by no outer sense-object, confined by no inner faculty — what is called this solitary, spiritual light shining forth alone, utterly transcending both faculty and object, its own true substance laid bare, ever-constant — with not a single thing left that is not, in itself, this very state of utter stillness and truth. Hence every other one of the five remaining faculties' own points of adherence to their objects should likewise, in response, follow this one selected and drawn-out faculty, and become perfectly liberated together with it! This directly answers the earlier question — how entering deeply through a single gate can cause all six faculties to become pure at once — and is likewise exactly what a later verse in the sūtra puts: "once a single faculty has returned to its own source, all six faculties attain liberation together."

Sūtra: "Knowing and seeing no longer arise dependent on any sense-object before it; illuminating no longer follows after any sense-faculty, but rather borrows a faculty merely as a place from which to shine forth — and, in this very way, the six sense-faculties come to interchange their functions freely with one another."

Commentary: This follows from making plain the very appearance of every other one of the five remaining points of adherence being pulled free and perfectly liberated together, and likewise answers the earlier question — how entering through the one, free of falseness, can cause all six faculties of knowing to become pure at once. The section above explained the method of cultivation; this section now explains the resulting state of realization. These "two wondrous [attainments]" are exactly the freedom and function that come forth once the knot is resolved: first, escaping entanglement within the realm of sentient beings; second, transcending the realm of the material world. Because the Buddha, moved earlier with compassion for those in the assembly — the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas who had not yet found freedom in the mind of bodhi — showed them the method of entering deeply through a single gate, so that they might attain purity in all six faculties and thereby attain great freedom, he now further resolves Ānanda's own hidden doubt — what benefit follows, once the six faculties are purified? — by showing these two wondrous attainments.

"Knowing and seeing no longer arise dependent on any sense-object before it": this shows that, outwardly, one no longer depends on any sense-object — this is freedom from the object itself. "The object before it" refers to the present, twelve sense-objects — brightness, darkness, and the rest; "knowing" and "seeing" name two to stand for all six essences. When sentient beings gather their seeing into the eye, and their hearing into the ear, this is exactly knowing and seeing arising dependent on the object before them — belonging, in this sense, to false knowing and false seeing. But now, this original brightness having come forth, the mind's own light illuminating everywhere, without relying on any outer sense-object at all, peering into the heavens and surveying the earth alike — this is exactly knowing and seeing no longer arising dependent on any object at all, belonging, in this sense, to true knowing and true seeing, exactly the Buddha's own knowledge and seeing every sentient being already possesses in full. "Illuminating no longer follows after any sense-faculty, but rather borrows a faculty merely as a place from which to shine forth": this shows that, inwardly, one no longer follows after the sense-faculty either — this is freedom from the faculty itself. Now, this radiant nature having come forth, its illuminating function manifesting everywhere at once, it no longer requires either the coarse or the subtle faculty, but merely borrows the faculty as a place to give off this illuminating function — in truth, no longer dependent on the faculty at all. Hence a buddha or bodhisattva, without lowering or raising the head, without turning to look this way or that, sees the ten directions in their entirety — a plain demonstration of exactly this.

"And, in this very way, the six sense-faculties come to interchange their functions freely with one another": it is exactly because faculty and object are both, together, let go of, and this solitary, spiritual light shines forth alone, that the wondrous interchange of the six faculties' functions comes about. This "interchange" means the faculties, once separated, now opening and closing freely, spontaneously accomplished, combining the six functions of seeing, hearing, and the rest all within a single faculty — the eye, for instance, no longer capable of seeing alone, but possessing, as well, all six functions of hearing, smelling, tasting, sensing, and knowing — while a single faculty, opened out, serves the function of all six at once. This is exactly the wondrous function of every point of adherence perfectly liberated, all six faculties purified, free and unobstructed — corresponding, in stage, to the completion of the ten faiths and entry into the abidings, the same as Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's own utter stillness standing revealed, suddenly transcending both the worldly and the transcendent realms at once. It is exactly by pulling free a single faculty, slipping loose from what it clings to and turning inward to subside, subsiding and returning to its own original truth, giving off its own original, bright radiance, that this wondrous function becomes possible at all. Some hold that the purification of the six sense-faculties refers specifically to the untying of the third knot in the sense-faculty, and that this alone is sufficient to realize this state — I take this view to be mistaken, and leave it to more discerning readers to examine for themselves! Once cultivation reaches this point, one no longer gives rise to any entanglement at all, with regard to the world of sentient beings.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, are you not aware? Here in this very assembly, does not Aniruddha see without any eyes at all? Does not the nāga Upananda hear without any ears at all? Does not the goddess of the river Gaṅgā smell without a nose? Does not Gavāṃpati know flavor with something other than a tongue? Does not the god Śūnya feel touch with no body at all — his form appearing only briefly, reflected within the Tathāgata's own light, his very substance, being of the nature of wind, in truth without any body whatsoever? And among those who have attained the cessation of feeling and perception and realized the stillness of a śrāvaka's own liberation, is there not, here in this very assembly, the venerable Mahākāśyapa, whose mind-faculty has long since ceased to function at all, and who nonetheless knows all things with perfect, luminous clarity, without depending on any conscious thought whatsoever?"

Commentary: The Zhèngmài commentary observes: this passage anticipates that ordinary beings and those of the lesser vehicle, long attached to the six functions and certain that they must always follow the six faculties, would, on suddenly hearing that illuminating no longer follows after any faculty at all, doubt this and fail to believe it — and so the Buddha cites living examples from the very assembly before him, to prove the point and remove this doubt. "Are you not aware?" is a rhetorical question. Here, in this very Śūraṅgama assembly, is Aniruddha, whose name means "without poverty," having gone ninety-one aeons without ever experiencing the retribution of poverty — the son of King Śuklodana, who left the household life to follow the Buddha, given to excessive sleep, and, rebuked by the Buddha for this, lost his eyesight through his own excessive diligence thereafter; the Buddha, taking pity on him, taught him to cultivate the vajra samādhi of joyful, luminous seeing, and he thereby attained a heavenly eye reaching halfway around his own head, capable of observing the great trichiliocosm as clearly as an āmalaka fruit held in the palm of the hand — seeing without any eyes at all, this seeing no longer following the eye but instead borrowing the head itself as a place to shine forth. This is one such proof. Then there is the nāga Upananda, whose name means "well rejoicing," who protects the kingdom of Magadha, bringing wind and rain in their proper season and thereby giving joy to its people, hence his name. Though possessing ears, he had lost his hearing and could no longer hear sound through them, and so used his horns to hear instead — this hearing no longer following the ear but instead borrowing the horns as a place to shine forth. The goddess of the river Gaṅgā — Gaṅgā being the name of a river, meaning "come down from the heavenly hall," with its source at the summit of the Himalayas, flowing from Lake Anavatapta as one of the four great rivers that issue from it — this goddess, presiding over the river, is able to smell without a nose at all. Gavāṃpati, whose name means "overseer of cattle," was forever chewing his cud after eating, and could know flavor with something other than a tongue. The god Śūnya, whose name means "the god of empty space," suffered for aeons from having no body of his own — the Buddha, releasing his own light to relieve this very suffering, caused a body to appear for him briefly, granting him a joy beyond all telling, though this body's own substance is like wind, without any real substance at all — and, even without a body, he is able to feel touch nonetheless.

"Among those who have attained the cessation of feeling and perception and realized the stillness of a śrāvaka's own liberation": the attainment of cessation, also called the attainment of the cessation of feeling and perception, is where neither feeling nor perception, belonging to the first five consciousnesses together with the sixth, is any longer given rise to in actual function — the ninth of the progressive stages of concentration. The first eight of these belong to what is still defiled; this ninth alone belongs to what is entirely undefiled. "Realized... stillness": stillness here is exactly the truth of cessation itself — having realized and confirmed the nirvāṇa of this very truth of cessation, one becomes an arhat, hence "realized the stillness of a śrāvaka's own liberation." Here, in this very assembly, is the venerable Mahākāśyapa, whose mind-faculty has long since ceased to function at all — not only do the six consciousnesses no longer arise in actual function for him, but even the coarser portion of the seventh consciousness itself has ceased as well, hence "his mind-faculty has long since ceased" — and yet he is able to know all things with perfect, luminous clarity, without depending on the conscious thought of either the seventh or the sixth consciousness at all. He now dwells on Mount Kukkuṭapāda, awaiting Maitreya's own descent into the world, to transmit the Buddha's robe to him — and it is exactly into this same attainment of cessation that he has entered even now. Master Gushan observes: each of these six figures just named is either an ordinary being experiencing the fruit of his own karma, or a lesser sage who has attained this through cultivation — and in every case, this comes about through nothing more than the sheer power of falseness itself, not even depending on the sense-faculty in the ordinary way at all. How much more so, then, should the perfectly liberated attain this same interchange of function without any difficulty whatsoever? This closes the first of the two wondrous attainments — escaping entanglement within the realm of sentient beings, and thereby accomplishing the wondrous interchange of function.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, once all your own sense-faculties have been perfectly pulled free in this way, their light shining forth inwardly and clear, then these very sense-objects, coarse and subtle alike, together with the whole material world and every one of its changing and transforming appearances, will, in response to a single thought, dissolve entirely — like hot water dissolving ice — and become nothing but unsurpassed knowledge and awareness itself."

Commentary: Within this teaching, a single faculty returning to its own source, all six faculties becoming pure, escaping entanglement within the realm of sentient beings, and transcending the material world all occur, in truth, at one and the same time — but since language cannot make everything plain all at once, the text presents them one after another. Hence the passage restates the point once more: once all of Ānanda's own sense-faculties have been perfectly pulled free in this way, their light shining forth inwardly and clear — this is exactly this radiant nature having come forth, its own substance pure, its own function manifest. This word "pulled free" here should not be read in the sense of "selected," but rather in the sense of "freed." "These very sense-objects, coarse and subtle" refers to every insubstantial, floating object of sense — like a mirage, or flowers conjured in space; "the material world" refers to what seems to be a genuinely real thing — mountains, rivers, the great earth, the whole forest of phenomena arrayed before us. "Changing and transforming appearances": what was not there and suddenly appears is called "changing"; what was there and suddenly vanishes is called "transforming."

"In response to a single thought, dissolve entirely... and become nothing but unsurpassed knowledge and awareness itself": "in response to a single thought" means following the mind itself. Every dharma whatsoever — every appearance of defilement or purity, suffering or happiness — dissolves entirely in response to the mind's own light, and returns to become the true substance of original awakening itself, exactly like hot water dissolving ice, the ice itself becoming water once again. When sentient beings are still deluded, it is like water becoming ice: what was originally unobstructed becomes obstructed, and so every appearance of the material world results. Now, cultivation and realization already accomplished, it is like hot water dissolving this same ice: what was obstructed becomes, once again, entirely unobstructed — the hot water standing for the mind's own light — hence, "in response to a single thought, dissolve entirely... and become nothing but unsurpassed knowledge and awareness itself."

Master Jiaoguang observes: mountains, rivers, and the great earth are, in truth, nothing but one's own mind's own substance of pure awareness itself — and so suffering may be turned into happiness, defilement transformed into purity, even the large and the small made to interfuse freely, the one and the many no longer obstructing one another, with nothing whatsoever left impossible — exactly as, later in the sūtra, Avalokiteśvara's thirty-two manifested bodies and the rest attain this same great freedom. One thus knows: so long as the six sense-faculties remain untied, it is not only the material world that remains unfree — even one's own bodily faculties remain unfree as well; but once the six sense-faculties are untied, it is not only one's own bodily faculties that attain great freedom — the material world itself attains this same great freedom as well! The student, then, need only untie the sense-faculty itself — there is no need to labor separately at escaping the material world at all.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, it is like a person in this world who gathers his seeing into his eyes: if he is made to shut them tightly, the appearance of darkness stands before him, and all six of his faculties turn dim and unclear, head and foot no longer distinguishable from one another. Yet were this person to run his hand along the outside of another's body standing before him, though he still cannot see, he can nonetheless tell head from foot by feel alone — this very knowing and awareness remaining exactly the same. To connect seeing with brightness as its cause, so that darkness becomes an absence of seeing altogether — but does not this same faculty come forth of itself, without any need for brightness at all? — for these very appearances of darkness could then never obscure it at all. Since faculty and object have both, already, been dissolved entirely, how could this bright awareness ever fail to become perfect and wondrous of itself?"

Commentary: The section above showed that no longer following after the sense-faculty is the very basis for one's own bodily faculties attaining freedom, and so cited a living example to prove that, even without following the faculty, knowing and seeing are not thereby lost. This section now shows that no longer depending on any condition is the very basis for the material world's own freedom, and so verifies, by way of an actual demonstration, that, even without depending on any condition, knowing and awareness are not thereby lost either. Hence the Buddha addresses Ānanda by name: it is like a person in this world who gathers his seeing only into his eyes — the nature of seeing itself, in truth, originally vast and pervading the whole dharma-realm, yet, simply because sentient beings stick to the calm nature and give rise to seeing, taking hold of form and tying it into a knot as a sense-faculty, this seeing comes to be gathered exclusively into the eye, as though there were no seeing at all apart from the eye.

What follows, "if he is made to shut them tightly," cites an actual demonstration as proof. If a person in this world is made to shut his eyes tightly, the appearance of darkness at once stands before him; and suppose another person were to stand right in front of him — all six of his faculties would turn dim and unclear, head and foot no longer distinguishable from one another at all. "Were this person to run his hand along the outside of another's body standing before him": this person, eyes shut, running his hand along the body of the one standing before him, all the way around, that is, feeling out this entire body with his hand — though his eyes remain shut and he cannot see its shape at all, he can nonetheless tell head from foot: feeling the head, he knows it for a head; feeling the foot, he knows it for a foot — this very knowing and awareness remaining exactly the same, no different at all.

People in this world all assume that seeing, as the faculty that takes hold of its object, must depend on brightness as its cause — only where there is brightness can there be seeing at all, and in darkness there must be no seeing whatsoever. What follows, "but does not... come forth of itself," refers back to this same person, eyes shut, standing before the one in front of him: dim and unclear as he is, he is nonetheless able, of himself, to give rise to knowing and awareness all the same — so these very appearances of darkness could then never obscure it at all. This means: even once the very condition of brightness as an object has been removed entirely, what obstruction could this possibly pose to seeing itself? This is exactly the demonstration proving that one need not depend on any condition at all. Addressed to ordinary beings and those of the lesser vehicle, who worry excessively that, before this perfect, wondrous nature has yet come forth, dissolving the sense-faculty and its object first might lead them to fall into mere emptiness instead — this demonstration is cited precisely so that they might press forward, dissolving faculty and object, without any such fear at all.

The section above cited this demonstration to show that even an ordinary being, whose faculty and object have not yet been dissolved at all, still finds that the nature of seeing does not depend on any condition — how much more so, then, for one advancing in genuine cultivation, whose faculty and object have already, in fact, been dissolved entirely: how could this original awakening's own supremely pure, bright mind ever fail to become the wondrous function of perfect penetration itself? The three lines, "since faculty and object have both, already, been dissolved entirely," correspond to the passage above: "faculty" refers to one's own bodily faculties, that is, the realm of sentient beings; "object" refers to the realm of sense-objects, that is, the material world. "Already... dissolved" is exactly this light shining forth inwardly and clear, every appearance dissolving entirely like hot water dissolving ice. "How could this bright awareness ever fail to become perfect and wondrous of itself?" is exactly "in response to a single thought, dissolve entirely... and become nothing but unsurpassed knowledge and awareness itself."

From the point of Ānanda's own request for the method of practice up to this very passage, the Buddha has taught the two decisive meanings in full: the first meaning briefly showed that the causal mind must be chosen carefully, so as to perfectly accomplish cultivation and realization at the fruit-stage; the second meaning showed, in full detail, the actual skillful means for this very first step, so that one might clearly understand the actual work with which to begin. The method for resolving the knot at the sense-faculty has now been set forth and explained in full detail — though which particular faculty serves as the true door into the magnificent house has still not yet been named outright. The Buddha, though he has hinted at this in hidden fashion throughout, leaves it for the student to turn this teaching over and ponder it deeply here, so as to come, in time, to some genuine attainment of their own. This closes the first great division — distinguishing the two decisive meanings that must be settled before cultivation begins.

Sūtra: Ānanda said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, as the Buddha has himself taught: the mind of awakening taken up at the causal stage, wishing to attain what is ever-constant, must accord in name and substance alike with the very fruit-stage one seeks. World-Honored One, among the names given to this fruit-stage itself — bodhi, nirvāṇa, suchness, buddha-nature, the immaculate consciousness, the empty tathāgatagarbha, and the great mirror-wisdom — these seven names, though their titles differ, are alike pure and perfectly complete, their own substance and nature utterly firm and unshakable, like Vajra himself, eternally abiding, never to be destroyed. But if this very seeing and hearing, apart from brightness and darkness, apart from motion and stillness, apart from passage and obstruction, has, in the end, no substance to it at all — then is it not exactly like a thought in the mind, which, apart from the object before it, has, at root, no existence whatsoever? How, then, could one take up something subject to utter annihilation as the very root of one's own cultivation, and hope thereby to attain these seven, ever-constant fruits of the Tathāgata?"

Commentary: "As the Buddha has himself taught" points back to what the Buddha said earlier: that you are all resolved to give rise to the mind of bodhi, and must first understand clearly the two decisive meanings governing the very first mind that resolves on awakening. This "first mind that resolves on awakening" is exactly the causal-stage mind — hence "the mind of awakening taken up at the causal stage." "Wishing to attain what is ever-constant" — the unborn, unceasing fruit of buddhahood — is exactly what was said above: that you now wish to make your own seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing accord fully, at last, with the Tathāgata's own constancy, bliss, true self, and purity, and so must first choose the very root of birth and death, relying instead on the unborn, unceasing, perfectly calm nature to bring this to completion as the causal-stage mind, only then perfectly accomplishing cultivation and realization at the fruit-stage. This states plainly that the causal-stage mind must accord, in meaning, with the fruit-stage's own name — not that the names themselves must simply be identical, but that their meaning must genuinely accord; for if one takes the arising-and-ceasing mind as one's cause while seeking the unborn, unceasing Buddha-vehicle, this is exactly a case where the meaning fails to accord at all.

This cites the fruit's own permanence. All seven of these "fruits" are taken from what the Tathāgata has realized at the fruit-stage itself, not from what is merely possessed, still entangled, at the causal stage. Bodhi is the ultimate virtue of wisdom, accomplished by freeing oneself from both the obstruction of affliction and the obstruction to what may be known; nirvāṇa is the ultimate virtue of severing, realized by escaping both birth-and-death by segments and birth-and-death by mutation. Suchness is one's own natural virtue: free of any falseness, it is called "true" — one truth, and every single thing is true, with not a single dharma that is not true; were there some falseness outside this truth still to be dispelled, it would not be purely true at all. Never differing, it is called "such" — one suchness, and every single thing is such, with no dharma that is not such; were there some "such" that had to be separately established within a dharma, it would not be original suchness at all. Sentient beings, when deluded, seem to lose it; the Buddhas, once realized, are said to embody the very substance of suchness itself, giving rise to its function, free and at ease — unchanging, yet following every condition; following every condition, yet never changing. Buddha-nature is exactly the true mind of original enlightenment itself — originally already buddha, possessed in full by every sentient being — only, while still deluded, this buddha-nature lies buried within the five aggregates that make up the body; once the Buddhas cultivate and realize it, this original enlightenment emerges from entanglement, wondrous precisely in being bright, bright precisely in being wondrous.

The immaculate consciousness is what is called the stainless consciousness, also called the pure, white consciousness — called the ālaya-consciousness while still deluded, and named the immaculate consciousness at the fruit-stage of buddhahood, fully capable of discriminating every dharma without the slightest defiling attachment to any of them. The empty tathāgatagarbha is what the Buddhas, at the causal stage, realize by turning falseness back into truth, returning to the very source of their own mind, ultimately pure, this single true mind alone, with nothing else besides. The great mirror-wisdom is what results from transforming the eighth consciousness — no different from the immaculate consciousness resulting from transforming the ālaya-consciousness, likewise illuminating the ten thousand dharmas equally. As the Verses on the Eight Consciousnesses puts it: "the great, round, immaculate mirror manifests at one and the same moment, universally illuminating every world-system throughout the ten directions." What difference, then, is there between these two? The stainless consciousness discriminates every dharma, yet without any defiling attachment — hence "stainless"; the great mirror-wisdom illuminates every dharma perfectly, yet entirely without discrimination — like a round mirror reflecting whatever comes before it, illuminating everything equally, giving rise to no discrimination at all — hence "the great mirror-wisdom." One might ask: what, then, distinguishes these two from the very fruit of the wisdom of bodhi itself? The answer: both of these illuminate only conventional truth — one with discrimination, one without — whereas the fruit of the wisdom of bodhi is exactly the wisdom knowing all modes, perfectly illuminating all three truths at once.

"These seven names, though their titles differ": these are the seven fruit-virtues of buddhahood — though their names differ, their own substance and nature are no different at all: originally pure, without the slightest speck of dust to be found in them; originally perfectly complete, every virtue fully possessed; their own substance utterly firm, incapable of ever being destroyed; their own nature fixed and unmoving, never subject to change — comparable to the treasure of Vajra himself, utmost in firmness, capable of destroying everything, while nothing whatsoever is capable of destroying it in turn. Calling it "king" here signifies its own supreme, unsurpassed excellence, realized by the Buddha alone. This likens all seven names above to this same, single, ever-constant reality: unborn, unceasing, unchanging, indestructible, accomplished once and accomplished forever. One thus knows: to attain this ever-constant fruit, one must have an equally ever-constant cause, before the two could ever truly accord with one another.

The first four lines here doubt that the cause is subject to annihilation; the last three doubt that it is the same as the false, discriminating mind. "This very seeing and hearing": the sense-faculty here names only two, standing in for all six; "apart from brightness and darkness" and the rest: the sense-object here names six, standing in for all twelve conditioned marks. Ānanda, having heard the Buddha say that apart from brightness and darkness there is no substance to seeing at all, apart from motion and stillness there was never, at root, any material substance to hearing, and so on, fails to realize that the Buddha was speaking only of the false faculty formed by taking hold of a sense-object — that, apart from the object, there is no substance to this knot at all — not that there is no true, underlying nature whatsoever. The earlier analogy — "because the vessels differ in shape, one comes to call the space within them by different names; remove the vessels and observe the space itself, and this space is simply one" — applied to the doctrine, means exactly that apart from the sense-object there is no substance to the knotted faculty, only this single, essential brightness itself — like removing the vessels and observing the space itself, calling this space simply one — not that it is utterly annihilated at all. Ānanda misreads the Buddha's own words, doubting that the sense-nature itself might be subject to annihilation, hence: "has, in the end, no substance to it at all." And he goes on, mistakenly, to cite further proof, saying this is exactly like a thought in the mind — that is, the sixth, discriminating consciousness — which, apart from the object before it, has, at root, no existence whatsoever. This was exactly the Buddha's own third refutation, showing that the discriminating mind has no substance of its own, saying that this mind of consciousness is nothing but a shadow cast by discriminating among the objects before it, and, apart from these objects, has, in the end, no substance whatsoever. Ānanda now doubts that the sense-nature itself is the very same as this discriminating mind.

This is the mistaken doubt that cause and fruit contradict one another. Ānanda, recalling that the Buddha, in the first decisive meaning, showed that the cause must decisively match the fruit — that taking the arising-and-ceasing mind as the root cause of one's cultivation while seeking the unborn, unceasing Buddha-vehicle cannot possibly succeed — is now alarmed, and raises this doubting challenge: how, then, could one possibly take up this faculty, subject to utter annihilation, as the very root cause of one's cultivation, and hope thereby to attain the Tathāgata's own seven ever-constant fruits at the fruit-stage? This challenge arises in Ānanda precisely because he has just heard the Buddha teach selecting the perfect faculty and entering deeply through a single gate.

Sūtra: "World-Honored One, if, apart from brightness and darkness, seeing is, in the end, entirely empty — then, just as without any object before it, a thought has no nature of its own and simply ceases — turning this over and over, forward and back, examining it minutely and in the finest detail, I can find, at root, no mind of my own, nor anything at all belonging to this mind — so upon what, then, could I possibly establish any cause at all, in seeking unsurpassed awakening? The Tathāgata earlier taught that this nature is calm, essential, perfect, and ever-constant — but does not this very teaching now contradict those sincere words spoken before, amounting, in the end, to nothing but idle theorizing? How, then, can the Tathāgata still be called one whose every word is true?" He begged only that the Buddha, in his great compassion, might open up what remained shrouded and stubbornly clung to within his own mind.

Commentary: This restates the point made just before, taking the sense-faculty itself to be the same as consciousness — naming only a single faculty, taken here as representative of the other five. The meaning is this: this very nature of the sense-faculty, apart from its object, has no substance at all — how, then, does this differ in any way from the discriminating mind of consciousness the Buddha himself refuted, which likewise has no nature apart from its object?

"Turning this over and over, forward and back": thinking forward, then thinking back again, turning the matter over and over without end. "Examining it minutely and in the finest detail": searching and investigating with the utmost precision and care, one can find, at root, no substance to this very mind that serves as one's own cause, nor any place at all where this causal mind of one's own could be found to exist. These two lines are exactly what Ānanda says because he takes the sense-nature to be the same as the discriminating mind — corresponding exactly to fascicle 1, where the Buddha refuted the discriminating mind as having no substance and no location whatsoever. And if the sense-nature itself likewise has no substance and no location, then upon what, in the end, could one possibly establish a true cause at all, in order to seek unsurpassed awakening? Since the sense-nature would, in this case, be subject to utter annihilation, this would be exactly what the Buddha said earlier: "then your own dharma-body would be the same as something subject to annihilation — and who, then, could possibly cultivate and realize the forbearance of the unborn nature of all things?" As Master Jiaoguang observes: once Ānanda has confused the sense-nature as being entirely identical with consciousness, he has, in effect, taken the very reasoning the Buddha used earlier to refute consciousness, and turned it around wholesale to refute the sense-faculty instead!

This cites the Buddha's own earlier words, to demonstrate an apparent contradiction between what was taught before and what is taught now. The first two lines cite the passage on revealing true seeing, which the Buddha taught earlier. "Calm" means calm and unmoving — exactly the second display, seeing does not move; "essential" means single and unmixed — exactly the sixth display, seeing is not mixed with objects; "perfect" means perfectly complete and all-pervading — exactly the seventh display, seeing is unobstructed, and the eighth display, seeing cannot be divided; "ever-constant" means abiding forever, never perishing — exactly the third, fourth, and fifth displays, seeing does not perish, is never truly lost, and has nowhere to return to. Now, teaching instead that, apart from brightness and apart from darkness, there is no substance to seeing at all — does this not directly contradict those very same sincere words spoken before, amounting, in the end, to nothing but idle theorizing? This is exactly self-contradiction. If the Buddha's earlier teaching, as the unsurpassed King of the Dharma, was true speech indeed, then how, given this present contradiction between what was taught before and what is taught now, can the Tathāgata still be called one whose every word is true?

Though Ānanda has, up to this point, doubted both that cause and fruit contradict one another and that the Buddha's teaching now contradicts what was taught before, he still has not come to any thorough, genuine understanding of what the Buddha actually means — hence he asks, once more, to be shown the truth directly. He begs only that the Buddha, in his great compassion, might open up what remains shrouded and stubbornly clung to within his own mind. "Shrouded" means clouded in ignorance, confused by this latest teaching; "stubbornly clung to" means still stuck fast, mired in what he heard before — unable to settle which is right and which is wrong, with no basis on which to take up one and set aside the other, and so he cannot help but ask to be shown the truth directly. This closes the first part: Ānanda misreads the Buddha's own words, and raises this mistaken challenge.

Sūtra: The Buddha told Ānanda: "You have devoted yourself to learning, and yet have not exhausted your own defilements. Your mind only knows, in the abstract, what inversion is caused by — but when true inversion actually stands right before you, you genuinely fail to recognize it! I fear your own sincere mind is not yet fully persuaded and settled — so let me now try something drawn from ordinary, worldly experience, to dispel this doubt of yours."

Commentary: Ānanda doubts that the sense-nature might be subject to annihilation, and here the Buddha undertakes to prove its permanence through an actual demonstration, so as to dispel this very doubt. "You have devoted yourself to learning": this devotion is single-minded and thoroughgoing, yet leans entirely toward mere erudition, without diligent cultivation of the power of samādhi behind it — hence he has severed only the affliction cut off through seeing, while the affliction of thought remains entirely intact, hence "have not exhausted your own defilements." "Your mind only knows, in the abstract": "only" here means "merely" — he merely knows, in the abstract, what inversion is caused by: caused by mistaking truth and clinging to falseness, which is called inversion — yet when true inversion actually stands right before him, he genuinely fails to recognize it. Mistaking truth and clinging to falseness is, indeed, itself an inversion — but to doubt what is truly constant as though it were subject to annihilation is a still truer inversion, since it takes truth itself to be the very same as falseness, an inversion graver still. You genuinely do not recognize this — exactly like the true medicine standing right before you, and yet being unable to tell it apart from anything else.

In these first two lines, the Buddha's own intention is this: were I simply to state outright that the sense-nature is true and ever-constant, without any skillful device to demonstrate it, I fear that, though you might seem to accept and believe it, this would not necessarily come from any truly sincere conviction of your own. Let me now, then, try something drawn from ordinary, worldly experience, to dispel this doubt of yours — striking a bell, and citing a dream: both are ordinary, worldly matters. Using something drawn from ordinary experience, easily grasped, to demonstrate that the nature of hearing never actually ceases, should be enough to resolve your doubt entirely.

Sūtra: At once the Tathāgata commanded Rāhula to strike the bell once, and asked Ānanda: "Do you hear it now?" Ānanda and the whole assembly said: "We hear it." When the bell fell silent, the Buddha again asked: "Do you hear it now?" Ānanda and the assembly said: "We do not hear it." Rāhula then struck the bell again, and the Buddha again asked: "Do you hear it now?" Ānanda and the assembly again said: "We hear it." The Buddha asked Ānanda: "By what do you mean 'hearing,' and by what do you mean 'not hearing'?" Ānanda and the assembly said to the Buddha: "When the bell is struck, we hear it; once struck, the sound fades and both tone and echo cease entirely — this we call 'not hearing.'"

Commentary: This first round asks whether hearing is present or absent, and Ānanda answers accordingly, in terms of hearing's own presence or absence. The passage divides this questioning into three separate rounds, and the Buddha has a deep purpose in doing so. Without the second round, there would be no way to expose Ānanda's own mistake; without the third, there would be no way to prove the sense-nature's own true permanence. This examination concerns "having heard" — the word "hearing," in both instances here, should really carry the sense of "having heard" for its full meaning to be plain.

Here too, the sense should really be "having heard": "not hearing" means "not having heard." Once the bell falls silent, this is merely an absence of sound — not an absence of hearing. Answering "we do not hear it" is exactly where the mistake lies: for if there truly were no hearing at all, who could possibly know that there was no sound? It is, in truth, sound itself that has its own arising and ceasing within hearing — this is not the nature of hearing itself becoming, at times, present or absent. This second round of questioning has already caught this very mistake.

The Buddha had earlier commanded Rāhula to strike the bell; in this third round, the Buddha does not command Rāhula to strike it again — and yet this final strike matters enormously, showing plainly that Rāhula and the Buddha are acting in concert. Only with this further strike can the nature of hearing be proven to have never, in fact, ceased at all: were the nature of hearing truly extinguished, how could this further sound possibly be heard at all? And since it is, in fact, heard once again, this fully demonstrates the true, constant permanence of the nature of hearing. The final line here should properly read: "we all say, we have heard it."

Here the Buddha is determined to settle, once and for all, to whom this presence or absence actually belongs, and so has Ānanda and the assembly state, in their own words, whether it is present or absent — but note that this concerns sound alone: "tone" here simply means sound, and "echo" means what lingers after the sound itself. The nature of hearing is true and ever-constant, never arising dependent on any condition — how, then, could the mere absence of that sound ever be taken to mean the absence of hearing itself?

Sūtra: The Tathāgata again commanded Rāhula to strike the bell, and asked Ānanda: "Do you have sound now?" Ānanda and the assembly said: "We have sound." A short while later, the sound faded, and the Buddha again asked: "Do you have sound now?" Ānanda and the assembly answered: "We have no sound." After a moment, Rāhula struck the bell once more. The Buddha again asked: "Do you have sound now?" Ānanda and the assembly said: "We have sound." The Buddha asked Ānanda: "By what do you mean 'having sound,' and by what do you mean 'having no sound'?" Ānanda and the assembly said to the Buddha: "When the bell is struck, this is called 'having sound'; once struck, the sound fades and both tone and echo cease entirely, this is called 'having no sound.'"

Commentary: The Zhèngmài commentary observes: the phrase would read still more precisely as "do you have sound right now" rather than merely "do you have sound." This second round of questioning is likewise divided into three separate examinations; this first examination answers concerning the mere presence or absence of sound itself. "Do you have sound now" asks precisely this — do you have sound right now? — wanting Ānanda to come to realize that only once one knows one has heard does one truly know one has sound; answering merely "we have sound" shows only that they know sound is present, not yet that they have realized hearing is present. "A short while later" means only a brief interval had passed. Once the bell's sound has faded, the Buddha asks once more: do you have sound now? Ānanda and the assembly answer: we have no sound. This second examination shows only that they know sound is absent, not yet that they have realized hearing is present. "After a moment" likewise means only a brief interval. This third examination proves that sound itself has its own arising and ceasing, while the nature of hearing remains true and ever-constant: at the very moment sound is absent, the nature of hearing has not thereby ceased; and now, at the moment sound is present once more, the nature of hearing has not thereby newly arisen either. The second line here asks: by what do you mean "having sound"? This passage, too, is the Buddha's own determined effort to settle, once and for all, why this sound comes to be present or absent, so that Ānanda might realize it arises dependent on conditions, while the nature of hearing itself belongs to no such conditioned arising at all, and so does not follow sound in becoming, at times, present or absent.

Sūtra: The Buddha said to Ānanda and the whole assembly: "Why are your own answers now so confused and contradictory?" Ānanda and the assembly at once asked the Buddha: "In what way are we now speaking in confusion and contradiction?" The Buddha said: "When I asked whether you heard, you said you heard; and when I asked about the sound, you likewise spoke of the sound. Your answers about hearing and about sound were given with no fixed distinction between them — how is this not confusion?"

Commentary: "The Buddha said to Ānanda": speaking from above to those below is called "saying to" — and together with the assembly as well: why are your own answers now so confused and contradictory? The question plainly concerned the mere presence or absence of sound, yet you answered as though it concerned the presence or absence of hearing instead — the nature of hearing itself having, in truth, no arising or ceasing at all, how could it ever properly be said to be "present" or "absent"? Your own confused answers — is this not exactly contradiction? Ānanda and the assembly, their minds not yet persuaded, ask the Buddha at once: we have, in fact, answered truthfully just as things actually are — where there is sound, we hear it; where there is no sound, we do not hear it; when the bell is struck there is sound, when it is not struck there is no sound — we have given no confused answer at all; in what way, then, is this called confusion? The Buddha says: when the bell was struck once, I asked whether you had heard — you answered, we heard it; when the bell fell silent, I asked whether you had heard — you said, we did not hear it; when the bell was struck a second time, I asked whether you had sound — you answered, we have sound; a short while later, the sound faded, and you said, we have no sound. Though hearing and sound were each examined twice over in turn, presence and absence, each time, collapsed into one and the same answer. In the end, then, is it hearing that is present or absent, or is it sound that is present or absent? Your own answers carry no fixed distinction whatsoever — how, given answers like these, is this not exactly confusion?

Sūtra: "Ānanda, when the sound fades and there is no echo, you say there is 'no hearing.' But if there truly were no hearing at all, the nature of hearing would already have perished like a withered tree — so when the bell is struck again, how could you possibly know it? Knowing that there is sound, and knowing that there is no sound, is itself simply the sound as an object being, at times, present or absent — how could this nature of hearing itself ever become, for your sake, present or absent? If hearing itself were truly absent, then who would even be there to know its absence?" You should therefore know, Ānanda: it is sound, within hearing, that has its own arising and ceasing — it is not that your hearing itself arises when sound arises and perishes when sound perishes, such that your very nature of hearing becomes existent or nonexistent.

Commentary: This refutes the mistaken confusion, and so states the correct meaning directly. That the sense-object of sound has its own arising and ceasing, while the nature of hearing itself is true and ever-constant, is exactly this correct meaning. This passage draws on the further striking of the bell to prove that the nature of hearing remains, constantly, ever-present. "When the sound fades and there is no echo" is exactly the earlier "once struck, the sound fades and both tone and echo cease entirely" — this is merely an absence of sound, and yet you say there is "no hearing." But were there truly no hearing at all, the nature of hearing would already have perished, becoming exactly like a withered tree, without any awareness whatsoever — and so, when the bell is struck again, you ought not to hear it at all. Why, then, at the very moment it is struck again, do you still hear it, and thereby know there is sound? Since you still hear it, even after it is struck again, this proves conclusively that the nature of hearing remains, constantly, ever-present.

This takes up "knowing its absence" to prove that hearing itself never ceases. This passage contains, in all, five instances of "absence" or "no" — the first, second, and fifth all speak in terms of sound; the third and fourth speak in terms of hearing. The first three lines make plain that arising and ceasing belong to sound alone, having nothing to do with the nature of hearing itself: knowing there is sound, knowing there is no sound, is simply the sense-object of sound, within the nature of hearing, being, at times, present, at times absent. How, then, could this nature of hearing itself ever become, for your sake, present or absent, simply because sound arises or ceases? And if the nature of hearing itself were truly absent whenever sound was absent, following sound into this same absence — then who, exactly, would still be there to know that sound was absent at all? Since you do, in fact, know that sound is absent, it is thus plain that the nature of hearing is by no means absent either.

The passage above refuted the mistaken confusion; this passage now states the correct meaning directly, settling once and for all that the sense-object has its own arising and ceasing, while the sense-faculty itself has none. "You should therefore know": it is precisely because knowing sound's absence proves the nature of hearing is not thereby absent that sound, as an object, within the nature of hearing, shows its own appearance of arising and ceasing — a matter having nothing whatsoever to do with the nature of hearing itself. It is not that your own nature of hearing arises when sound arises and perishes when sound perishes, such that your very nature of hearing could ever become, at times, present or absent. The nature of hearing remains, constantly, ever-present, present at every single moment — how, then, could it possibly follow the sense-object of sound in its own arising and ceasing, becoming, in turn, present or absent?

Sūtra: "You remain, even now, caught in inversion, mistaking sound itself for hearing — is it any wonder, then, that you should also be confused, mistaking what is truly ever-constant for something subject to annihilation? You must never say: 'apart from all motion and stillness, apart from being closed off and being opened through, hearing has no nature of its own at all.'"

Commentary: The first four lines here rebuke this confusion; the last four warn against this same mistake. That the sense-object's own nature is subject to annihilation, while the sense-faculty's own nature abides forever, is something that, even granting that permanence and annihilation may be genuinely difficult to distinguish at times, the faculty and its object themselves ought to be easy enough to tell apart. "Inversion": to mistake what is ever-constant for something subject to annihilation is itself an inversion; and to take the sense-object for the sense-faculty is likewise an inversion. Hence: you remain, even now, caught in inversion, confusing the mere presence or absence of this sound as an object with the very presence or absence of the nature of hearing itself. This is exactly why, when there was no sound, and you were asked whether you heard, you answered that you did not hear at all — this is exactly the inversion of failing to distinguish faculty from object; and if faculty and object cannot even be told apart, is it any wonder that you should also be confused, unable to distinguish permanence from annihilation, mistaking the ever-abiding nature of hearing itself for something subject to annihilation? The earlier challenge — how could one possibly take up something subject to utter annihilation as the very root of one's own cultivation? — is exactly this same inversion of yours, unable to distinguish permanence from annihilation.

"You must never say" is a word of warning and prohibition. "Motion" and "stillness" refer to sound as a sense-object — where there is sound, this is called motion; where there is none, this is called stillness. "Closed off" and "opened through" refer to the coarse, physical faculty, the fleshly ear itself — deafness is called being closed off, sharp hearing is called being opened through. The meaning is this: the nature of hearing is this solitary, spiritual light shining forth alone, utterly transcending both faculty and object — not only does the mere presence or absence of sound have nothing to do with the nature of hearing itself, but even the ear's own deafness or sharpness has nothing to do with the nature of hearing either. You must never, then, say something like this: that apart from the sense-object of motion and stillness, apart from the ear-faculty's own being closed off or being opened through, hearing has no nature of its own at all. The nature of hearing is ever-abiding, perfectly complete and all-pervading — how could it ever be subject to annihilation?

Sūtra: "It is like a person sunk deep in sleep, lying soundly upon his own bed and pillow. Someone else in his household, while he is thus asleep, begins pounding cloth and husking rice with a pestle. Within his dream, this sleeping person hears the sound of this pounding and husking, and takes it to be something else entirely — mistaking it now for a drum being struck, now for a bell being rung — and, still within the dream, he even wonders to himself why this bell should sound like wood or stone instead. When he suddenly wakes, he at once recognizes it for what it is — the sound of the pestle — and tells his own household: 'Just now, while I was dreaming, I mistook this very sound of the pestle for the sound of a drum.'"

Commentary: This section and the section above both prove the permanence of the nature of hearing, yet with a difference in emphasis that must not be overlooked. The section above proved, through the presence of sound, that the nature of hearing does not newly arise, examined against motion; and, through the absence of sound, that it does not cease, examined against stillness — unborn and unceasing, the nature of hearing thus proven to be permanent. This section now cites a dream as its proof, letting go of motion and stillness together, setting aside faculty and object alike — a demonstration deeper still than what came before. "A person sunk deep in sleep," not merely lightly asleep — sleeping soundly is exactly being sunk deep in sleep, the body resting upon its own bed and pillow. "Someone else in his household" acts while he is thus asleep, soundly. "Pounding cloth" means beating cloth with a mallet; "husking rice" means pounding rice in a mortar. This deeply sleeping person hears the sound of the pestle husking rice, hears the sound of the mallet pounding cloth against its block, and, within his dream, takes it to be the sound of something else entirely — now the sound of a drum being struck, now the sound of a bell being rung. Here, the very capacity to hear the sound of mallet and pestle at all is the functioning of the nature of hearing itself; taking it to be something else entirely belongs instead to the dream's own independent mental activity, discriminating among what lies beyond the dream and mistaking it for the sound of a bell or drum. And when, still within the dream, he even wonders to himself why this bell should sound like wood or stone instead, this too belongs to this same independent mental activity within the dream, reasoning further still, puzzling over why a bell's sound should ring like wood — the pestle — or why a drum's sound should ring like stone — the mallet's block. This mistaken discrimination belongs entirely to mental consciousness, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the nature of hearing itself.

"Suddenly wakes" means he wakes from his dream all at once. "At once" means immediately — the very moment he wakes, he immediately recognizes it as the sound of the pestle husking rice. He tells his own household: just now, while I was dreaming, I mistook this very sound of pounding and husking for the sound of a bell or a drum. Above, within the dream, he wonders at a bell's sound; on waking, he speaks instead of a drum — the wording here simply implies each by way of the other, and so both must be mentioned together. What comes before proves that, even within a dream, the nature of hearing is never obscured; what follows now settles, once and for all, that the sense-nature abides forever.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, would this person, deep within his dream, ever recall whether his ear was closed off or opened through, whether its object was still or stirring? Though his body lies fast asleep, the nature of hearing itself is never dimmed. And even should your own body one day dissolve entirely, your very life's light departing and passing on — how, then, could this same nature of hearing ever be dissolved along with you?"

Commentary: Would this deeply sleeping person, dreaming as he is, ever recall or think about his sense-object's own stillness or stirring? "Stirring" here means motion. Since a person deep in dream forgets his entire body altogether, would he ever recall or think about his own fleshly ear being closed off or opened through either? This being so, faculty and object are both, together, entirely set aside, and yet the nature of hearing remains, constantly, present — his body fast asleep, and yet the nature of hearing never dimmed. This alone should serve as clear enough proof — so why do you still doubt that the nature of hearing might be subject to annihilation, and even go so far as to say that I do not speak the truth? What I meant earlier, by "apart from motion, apart from stillness, there was never, at root, any material substance to hearing," was exactly this: apart from these two objects of motion and stillness, there was never, at root, any sticking to calm awareness giving rise to hearing, any essence of hearing reflecting sound and curling it inward to form a faculty, any such material substance of hearing at all. This states only that there is no such material substance gathering hearing exclusively into the ear — not that there is no nature of hearing pervading the whole dharma-realm at all. How could you, a man of such great learning, still follow the mere words here and miss their actual meaning so completely!

This shows that it is not merely during life that the dream remains undimmed — even after death, this same holds true. Even should your own body one day dissolve entirely, your very life's light departing and passing on — "departing and passing on" meaning shifting and giving way, your own life-span now entirely spent — this very nature of hearing would still not, for all that, dissolve and pass away together with your own body's dissolving and your own life's passing. The words "how, then" turn the point around, to reveal that even though the body perishes, the nature of hearing itself does not perish along with it.

The Zhèngmài commentary raises a question: "if this sense-nature truly has nothing to do with motion or stillness, and is unhindered by birth or death, why did the Tathāgata say earlier that, apart from motion, apart from stillness, there was never, at root, any material substance to hearing at all?" And answers: "when I said that, apart from the sense-object, there is no material substance to hearing, I meant only that there is no material substance gathering hearing exclusively into the ear. Only once this substance is gone can the nature of hearing, pervading the whole dharma-realm, be fully manifested at last — how could this ever be turned around into meaning it is subject to annihilation? This passage now makes plain exactly why there was never, at root, any such material substance to hearing in the first place, showing that the mistake lay entirely in Ānanda's own misreading, not in any self-contradiction on the Buddha's own part. Were this not so, then the Buddha's earlier statement — apart from the object, no substance — and his later statement — apart from the object, there remains a true substance still — could never be reconciled, and the charge of self-contradiction could never be answered at all!" Wuxing observes: "Ānanda's earlier doubt extended generally to all six sense-faculties having no substance at all; this is exactly why the Tathāgata singles out the nature of hearing specifically to demonstrate its permanence — genuinely wishing, thereby, to open up the very opportunity for perfect penetration through the ear. Hence a later verse in the sūtra says: 'sound's absence is not itself an absence of hearing; sound's presence is likewise not itself an arising of hearing' — and, further, 'even present within a dream, it is never truly absent for want of any thought at all' — both drawn from exactly this same demonstration."

Sūtra: "Because sentient beings, from beginningless time, have followed after form and sound, chasing after thought after thought, flowing onward without end, they have never once awakened to this pure, wondrous, ever-constant nature. Failing to follow this very nature, ever-constant as it is, they instead chase after arising and ceasing — and so, life after life, they flow onward, mired in defilement."

Commentary: The first four lines here show how beings chase after falseness; the last two show how they remain deluded about truth. "Because" here means "on account of": on account of sentient beings, from that beginningless moment when ignorance first stirred falsely, faculty and object have stood paired against each other, following along after whatever sense-object presents itself — form and sound here naming two to stand for all four of the remaining objects as well — chasing after thought after thought, discriminating, giving rise to aversion and craving alike. "Flowing onward" here means following after the sense-object and pouring outward, turned about by whatever object one encounters — this "flowing onward" should not be read as birth and death itself, since this passage still concerns only delusion; the "flowing onward" in the next passage is where the bitter fruit itself appears. "They have never once awakened to this pure, wondrous, ever-constant nature": "nature" here is exactly the nature within the six sense-faculties — untouched by any sense-object is called "pure"; unbound by the coarse, physical faculty is called "wondrous"; unhindered by birth and death is called "ever-constant" — exactly what was just demonstrated above: faculty and object both let go of together, with no connection to birth and death whatsoever. Because beings chase after falseness, they remain deluded about truth as a direct result — but were they able to unite with awareness instead, they could naturally turn falseness back into truth once again.

This shows the specific failure of remaining deluded about truth while chasing after falseness. Rather than following the pure, wondrous, ever-constant nature of the sense-faculty they already possess, beings instead chase after the arising-and-ceasing mind of consciousness — this refers to setting aside the sense-faculty and making use of consciousness instead, turning one's back on awareness to unite with the senses, stirred within and rushing outward, creating karma dependent on delusion, and thereby forming the cause of birth and death. And once this false cause has formed, its false fruit becomes difficult to escape, life after life, existence after existence, cycling on through the six destinies, shifting and transforming within these very defiled dharmas — now among the heavens or the human realm, now among the hells, the hungry ghosts, or the animals. The asuras are not separately mentioned here since beings of the four kinds of asura birth are already included within the heavens, humans, ghosts, and animals.

Sūtra: "But if you set aside what arises and ceases, and hold fast instead to what is ever-true and constant, the constant light will appear before you, and the sense-faculty, its object, and the discriminating mind will fall away at once. Once conceptual appearances, taken as dust, and discriminating feeling, taken as defilement, are both left far behind, your own Dharma-eye should become clear and bright at that very moment — so how could you fail to attain unsurpassed knowledge and awareness?"

Commentary: The first line here means setting aside consciousness — the discriminating mind of consciousness, subject to arising and ceasing, impermanent, is the false root, not the cause of bodhi at all, and so must be set aside entirely; the second line means making use of the sense-faculty instead — the sense-faculty's own nature, truly real and ever-abiding, is the true root, the very substance of the Śūraṅgama itself, and so must be held fast to. "Hold fast" is exactly the actual work to be done: holding fast to the gate of a single faculty, no longer permitting it to flow outward and condition its object, but instead having it enter the stream and illuminate its own nature — exactly the earlier "slips loose from what it clings to and turns inward to subside," and likewise exactly Avalokiteśvara's own perfect penetration, entering the stream and letting go of what was heard. "The constant light will appear before you": this is exactly the ever-abiding, true mind, its own originally possessed great light of wisdom now coming forth. As Chan Master Linji put it: "there is a true person of no rank, right at the threshold of your own six sense-faculties, radiating light and shaking the very earth" — exactly this. This is likewise exactly the earlier "subsiding, it returns to its own original truth, and gives off its own original, bright radiance."

"The sense-faculty, its object, and the discriminating mind will fall away at once": this means that, once the constant light has already appeared, interfusing every dharma completely, this one true mind alone remaining, the sense-faculty, its object, and the discriminating mind — the eighteen elements, three groups of six — fall away at once, none of them to be found anywhere at all. This is exactly the earlier "this radiant nature having come forth... these very sense-objects, coarse and subtle alike, together with the whole material world and every one of its changing and transforming appearances... like hot water dissolving ice." Consciousness itself is not separately mentioned here since consciousness has no substance of its own to begin with.

"Dust" and "defilement" here refer to the subtle ignorance of attachment to dharmas. Since the sense-faculty, its object, and the discriminating mind have already fallen away, every coarse trace of dust and defilement has already been removed — but this "conceptual appearance" — that is, the very object of this calm, single state one now contemplates — remains one further, most subtle kind of dust, exceedingly difficult to remove; and "discriminating feeling" — the very mind capable of contemplating this calm, single state — still belongs to mind standing opposed to its own object. So long as this very contemplating mind has not yet let go of this calm, single object it contemplates, this remains a lingering attachment and affection for the Dharma itself, one further, subtle kind of defilement, exceedingly difficult to scrape away. But if one can leave both of these far behind together, then defilement is exhausted and this brightness is born, and your own Dharma-eye should become clear and bright at that very moment, attaining purity in all six sense-faculties at once. Because the six knots are now untied and the five turbidities removed, exactly as in Avalokiteśvara's own perfect penetration, once arising and ceasing themselves have ceased, utter stillness stands revealed, suddenly transcending both the worldly and the transcendent realms at once, perfect brightness pervading the ten directions — hence "your own Dharma-eye becomes clear and bright." Breaking through one portion of ignorance, one realizes one portion of the dharma-body, ascending to the first abiding of the perfect teaching, entering the very lineage of the sages themselves — and from this point on, advancing further in cultivation, carrying this fruit forward as one continues the causal practice, flowing steadily onward, deeper and deeper, into the ocean of all-knowing wisdom itself — how, then, could one possibly fail to attain unsurpassed knowledge and awareness? This closes the first section — verifying and resolving the doubt that the sense-nature might be subject to annihilation.

Sūtra: Ānanda said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, although the Tathāgata has explained the second decisive meaning, when I now observe people in the world who untie knots, I am convinced that anyone who does not know where the knot originates can never actually untie it."

Commentary: Ānanda addresses the Buddha respectfully: World-Honored One, although the Tathāgata has already explained this second decisive meaning, requiring us to resolve the knot at the sense-faculty itself, we still do not know which part of the faculty is the knot, or by what means it is to be untied. When I now observe people in the world who untie knots, they must, without exception, first know where the very root of the knot lies before they can ever untie it — and if one does not know where this root lies, I am convinced that, however much such a person might wish to untie it, he could never actually succeed. In his own mind, Ānanda mistakenly imagines that, apart from these six sense-faculties, there must be some further, separate root to this knot somewhere else entirely.

Sūtra: "World-Honored One, I myself, and those of us still in training here in this assembly, are exactly the same. From beginningless time, we have arisen together with ignorance and ceased together with it as well — and though we have attained this same wholesome root of extensive learning, and are called renunciants because of it, we remain exactly like a fever that returns every other day!"

Commentary: Here Ānanda cites those still in training, describing their own shared confusion. He does not presume to speak for those at the deep stages beyond further training, hence: I myself, and this one class of śrāvakas still in training here in the assembly — everyone below the fourth fruit is called "still in training" — are likewise exactly like people who untie knots without knowing where the root of the knot lies, and so can never actually succeed in untying it. "From beginningless time... together with ignorance" refers to the independently arising, karmic mark of ignorance itself. As the Awakening of Faith puts it, this is exactly the moment the unenlightened mind first stirs — exactly what this very sūtra calls "the nature of awareness is necessarily bright; mistakenly, this becomes awareness that is bright." The unborn, unceasing true mind combines with the arising-and-ceasing false mind, truth itself falling into falseness, and becomes the ālaya-consciousness — this consciousness possessing within it a capable seeing-portion, that is, exactly the seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, sensing, and knowing found among the six sense-faculties, called the single, essential, luminous substance itself, born together with birth, and closer to sentient beings in their everyday activity than anything else. The passage further on, where the Buddhas of the ten directions speak with a single voice to Ānanda, names exactly this same thing as "innate ignorance."

"Though we have attained this same wholesome root of extensive learning, and are called renunciants because of it": though Ānanda has, across many aeons, developed the wholesome root of extensive learning through habituation, and remains, even in this present life, a person of great learning still, he has not yet proceeded from hearing to reflection to actual cultivation, and so remains stuck at the lesser fruits — a "renunciant" in name alone! Not yet having attained the stage beyond further training, not yet having left the household of the three realms themselves, how much less, then, the household of affliction one leaves only once all five abodes of affliction are utterly exhausted? This is likened to a fever that returns every other day: at the very moment one attains a fruit, one seems, for the moment, to have found liberation — but the moment one re-enters birth and death, one remains, just as before, bound fast. Even one who has attained the first fruit must still undergo seven more returns to birth, among gods and humans alike, before severing the nine grades of the desire realm's own affliction of thought — hence this likeness to a fever returning every other day. The Zhèngmài commentary observes: in truth, this holds not only for those still in training — even an arhat beyond further training, so long as he has not yet entirely left birth and death behind, remains bound the moment he re-enters it, precisely because he, too, has not yet penetrated to where the knot itself actually lies.

Sūtra: "I beg only that you, in your great compassion, take pity on us, still adrift as we are. In what sense is my own body and mind, this very day, knotted? And by what means is it to be untied? May this, further, spare future generations of suffering beings from the wheel of rebirth, so that they, too, need not fall into the three realms of existence." Having said this, he, together with the whole assembly, threw himself, his entire body, to the ground, weeping tears of utter sincerity, and waited upon the Tathāgata's own unsurpassed teaching.

Commentary: Here he asks the Buddha to show him where the very root of the knot lies, so that he might come to understand it. He begs only that the great sage's own true compassion take pity on and remember us, still adrift as we are — this true mind fallen into ignorance is exactly what is meant by "adrift," and who but the Buddha could possibly rescue us from it? The Buddha has already taught us to resolve the knot at the sense-faculty, yet we still do not know: within this present body and mind of ours, that is, these very six sense-faculties, which part is actually the knot? And since this knot must have arisen from something, there must be some root from which it originated — we do not know where this root itself is to be found, nor from where we should actually begin, in order to properly untie it.

The next four lines, "may this, further, spare future generations of suffering beings," mean this: were the Tathāgata to show this plainly, it would not only spare those of us here, still in training, from remaining adrift — it would also be passed down into the degenerate age to come, enabling future generations of suffering beings, once they too know where this root lies and understand the method for untying it, to escape this same bondage, spared from the wheel of birth and death, no longer falling into the three realms and the six destinies at all!

Having made this request for the teaching, he, together with the whole assembly of the three vehicles gathered there, threw himself, his entire body, to the ground, showing thereby his own earnest, heartfelt sincerity; weeping tears of utter sincerity shows his own depth of feeling and utmost reverence. This teaching of resolving the knot at the sense-faculty, the teaching of complete meaning for cultivation and realization, is not something only those still in training among the two lesser vehicles ought to seek — even the bodhisattvas of the greater vehicle delight in hearing it as well. Hence they all wait upon the Tathāgata's own unsurpassed teaching — this being exactly "the single path to the gate of nirvāṇa walked by every Blessed One throughout the ten directions," and so rightly called unsurpassed.

Sūtra: At that time the World-Honored One, moved with compassion for Ānanda and for those still in training within the assembly, and, further, for all sentient beings of the future, so as to establish the very cause of transcendence and serve as an eye for generations yet to come, reached out with his own hand, the color of Jambūnada gold, radiant and violet, and touched the crown of Ānanda's head — and at that very moment, throughout the ten directions, every one of the buddha-worlds shook in all six ways at once.

Commentary: Above, Ānanda, on behalf of those still in training and the sentient beings of the degenerate age to come, asked to be shown where the knot itself originates, and how it is to be untied. Since the Buddha knows that the six sense-faculties are both the very root of this bondage and, at the same time, the very basis for liberation from it, this teaching runs exceedingly deep and is far from easy to grasp — and though he is about to reveal it fully, he fears it may be difficult for his listeners to accept with full confidence. Hence, moved with compassion, thinking of Ānanda, of those in the assembly still in training, and of sentient beings of the degenerate age to come, he now shows them the very causal mind by which the one vehicle is cultivated and realized in transcending the world, so that they will not fall into confused and disordered practice, and so that it may serve, for all future practitioners of the greater vehicle, as an eye to guide their own cultivation, something they can genuinely rely on. This "eye" is exactly the eye that sees the path — finding the very door of the magnificent house, cultivation and realization thereby has something to rely on, and one will no longer stray, mistakenly, down some other, wrong path at all! Hence the Buddha touches Ānanda's own crown and shakes the very worlds themselves, moving all the Buddhas to appear together and bear witness to this truth.

First, touching the crown of the head is a gesture of comfort, signifying the bestowal of this unsurpassed, crowning teaching. At that very moment, the buddha-worlds throughout the ten directions, moved by the Buddha's own awesome spiritual power, shook together in all six ways at once — in form: trembling, surging, and rising; in sound: rumbling, roaring, and resounding — signifying that the six knots are now about to be untied.

Sūtra: Every one of the Tathāgatas, as numerous as motes of dust, abiding throughout these worlds, each had a jeweled light shining forth from the very crown of his own head.

Commentary: The jewel here represents the very substance and nature of the perfectly calm, unborn, unceasing mind itself; the light represents the wondrous function that arises, matching this same substance exactly — that is, every sense-faculty perfectly pulled free, its own light shining forth inwardly and clear. That this light shines forth from the very crown of the head signifies the most supreme, most wondrous teaching of all.

Sūtra: This light, all at the very same moment, came forth from each of these worlds and arrived here, at Jetavana Grove, pouring down upon the crown of the Tathāgata's own head — and the whole assembly gained an experience they had never known before!

Commentary: The first three lines here show the light from every Buddha's own crown arriving, all at the very same moment, from throughout the ten directions, here to this very Jetavana Grove, pouring down upon Śākyamuni Tathāgata's own crown — signifying that this very crowning teaching is realized by every Buddha in common, exactly what is meant by "the wondrously adorned path by which all the Tathāgatas of the ten directions alike transcend, through this single gate." Though the whole assembly did not yet understand the teaching thus signified, they had certainly never witnessed such a marvel as this before — hence, "gained an experience they had never known before!"

Sūtra: And then Ānanda, together with the whole assembly, heard all these Tathāgatas throughout the ten directions, numerous as motes of dust, speak with a single voice, telling Ānanda: "Excellent, Ānanda! If you wish to know the innate ignorance that is the very root of the knot binding you to the wheel of birth and death, it is your six sense-roots, and nothing else. And if you wish to know the unsurpassed bodhi that will swiftly bring you to peaceful, liberated, still, wondrous, ever-abiding freedom, that too is your six sense-roots, and nothing else!"

Commentary: Ānanda and the assembly, within this very treasury of great light, together heard these Tathāgatas, numerous as motes of dust throughout the ten directions, speak with a single voice — that is, with one and the same word from every mouth at once — proclaiming this wondrous teaching together, entirely worthy of the deepest confidence.

Wishing to reveal a teaching so difficult to believe and so difficult to grasp, the Buddhas first commend Ānanda with the word "excellent" — since Ānanda, having already opened up the complete and perfect understanding, now goes on to request the complete and perfect practice as well, of benefit to all who come after him, and so is worthy of every Buddha's own shared commendation. They tell him: if you wish to know the innate ignorance that is exactly the very root of the knot in the sense-faculty — as was said earlier, "the nature of awareness is necessarily bright; mistakenly, this becomes awareness that is bright," present together with beings from beginningless time, hence "innate" — it is by the power of this very ignorance that the originally possessed light of wisdom is turned into a discriminating seeing-portion, relying on the sense-faculty to condition its object, pouring forth along with this current, drawing forth the six consciousnesses in turn, becoming the very root of affliction, and causing you to turn endlessly through birth and death — and the very root from which this knot of birth and death originates is nothing but your own six sense-faculties, and nothing else at all. This directly confirms the earlier question — what, exactly, is this knot?

The passage above says the knot is nothing but the six sense-faculties; this passage now says the untying is likewise nothing but the six sense-faculties. It further says: and if you wish to know unsurpassed bodhi — the Sanskrit "bodhi" is rendered "awakening" — this is exactly the unborn, unceasing, true mind of original awakening already possessed within the sense-faculty, with nothing whatsoever capable of surpassing it, hence "unsurpassed" — this should not be read merely as some fruit yet to be realized in the future. This very mind is the true, causal-stage mind itself — relying on it to clarify the turbidity and resolve the knot, entering deeply through this single gate, one can naturally, swiftly realize the four virtues of nirvāṇa: peace is exactly the virtue of bliss; liberation is exactly the virtue of the true self; stillness is exactly the virtue of purity; wondrous, ever-abiding freedom is exactly the virtue of constancy. And this, too, is nothing but your own six sense-faculties, and nothing else at all — for apart from these six sense-faculties, there is, in truth, no other original source to be found either! It is precisely because this very sense-faculty is where truth and falseness combine together that, spoken of from the side of falseness, it is the very root of the knot of birth and death; and spoken of from the side of truth, it is exactly these four virtues of nirvāṇa. As will be said further on: confusion and obscurity are exactly ignorance itself; understanding, once it dawns, is exactly liberation itself — the knot and its untying alike belong to nothing but the sense-faculty itself — how, then, could anything else possibly be involved at all? This directly confirms the earlier question — by what means is it to be untied?

Sūtra: Although Ānanda heard this very teaching, his mind was still not clear, and, bowing his head, he said to the Buddha: "How is it that both my own turning through birth and death, and this very peace, liberation, and wondrous, ever-abiding freedom, are alike said to be nothing but my own six sense-faculties, and nothing else at all?"

Commentary: "This very teaching" refers to what the Buddhas have just spoken above — though Ānanda heard it with his own ears, his mind has not yet fully grasped it. Bowing his head, he asks the Buddha: how is it that both my own birth-and-death and my own nirvāṇa alike are said to be nothing but these six sense-faculties, with the sense-object and consciousness playing no part in either at all?

Sūtra: The Buddha told Ānanda: "The sense-root and its object share the same source; bondage and liberation are not two different things. The nature of consciousness is false, like flowers conjured in the sky."

Commentary: This passage now explains, in full detail, the very doubt still lying hidden in Ānanda's mind — why the Buddhas should all say, with one voice, that both the knot and its untying lie in the six sense-faculties alone. The Buddha tells Ānanda: you doubt why the Buddhas' own teaching points only to the six sense-faculties as both the knot and its untying, and not to the sense-object or to consciousness; and you further wonder how the six sense-faculties, already the very root of this bondage, could at the same time be the very basis of liberation from it. You should now understand: the sense-faculty and its object are, in fact, two aspects of one and the same source, with no truly separate substance between them at all. Viewed in terms of their outward appearance, they may seem to divide into inner and outer: the faculty, as one's own inner bodily organ, belonging to what is sentient; the object, as the outer realm confronted, belonging to what is insentient. But examined in terms of underlying principle, this is merely the distinction between the seeing-portion and its corresponding appearing-portion: the faculty is the eighth consciousness's own seeing-portion, belonging to mental phenomena; the object is this same eighth consciousness's own appearing-portion, belonging to material phenomena. As the Yogâcāra school puts it: both the appearing-portion and the seeing-portion arise dependent on the very same self-verifying portion of consciousness. It is like the two horns of a snail: extended, they appear as a pair; withdrawn, they become simply one — there being, in truth, only the single head, with no separate pair of horns at all. The sense-faculty and its object share this same, single source — and so, naming the faculty alone already implies the object as well, which is why the object is not separately mentioned here.

"Bondage and liberation are not two different things": bondage and liberation are exactly the knot and its untying. If the six sense-faculties remain bound, the six knots arise, layer upon layer, and one remains an ordinary being, subject to the suffering of being adrift — and these same six sense-faculties are exactly the very root of this bondage. Hence the Buddhas say: the very root of the knot of birth and death is nothing but your own six sense-faculties, and nothing else. But if the six sense-faculties become free, the six knots are untied one after another in turn, and one becomes a sage, attaining the bliss of utter stillness — and these same six sense-faculties are exactly the very basis of this liberation as well. Hence the Buddhas say: this very peace, liberation, stillness, and wondrous, ever-abiding freedom, too, is nothing but your own six sense-faculties, and nothing else at all. Hence: "bondage and liberation are not two different things."

"The nature of consciousness is false, like flowers conjured in the sky": here the Buddha further explains why the Buddhas point only to the six sense-faculties as the very key to both the knot and its untying, without ever mentioning the six consciousnesses at all. The nature of consciousness is nothing but a false thought arising upon the false appearance of the object before it, with no real substance to it whatsoever — hence "false." It is exactly like flowers conjured in the sky by a diseased eye: to the diseased eye's own view, they seem to exist, and yet, examined to the very end, there is nothing there at all. Since the six sense-objects, then, have no separate substance of their own to begin with, and the six consciousnesses are, further, entirely without any real existence at all, the Buddhas therefore do not mention the object or consciousness, but speak, alike, of the knot and its untying as belonging only to the six sense-faculties themselves. Though the Buddhas' own statement has already been fully explained in what the Tathāgata has just said above, its principle remains subtle and hidden, and its wording concise — and so, fearing this might not yet be thoroughly understood, the passage now explains this same statement once more, simply to make its meaning still clearer.

Sūtra: "Ānanda, knowing arises dependent on the object; appearance arises dependent on the root — object and seeing have no fixed nature of their own, like two reeds leaning on each other, each holding the other up."

Commentary: This further explains that the sense-root and its object share the same source. The faculty is what conditions; the object is what is conditioned — subject and object never separate from one another. It is only because the six sense-objects exist that the six sense-faculties' own knowing comes forth at all — the faculty must rely on the object to be established in the first place; and it is only because the six sense-faculties exist that the six sense-objects' own appearance is ever made manifest at all — the object, too, must rely on the faculty in order to exist.

"Object and seeing have no fixed nature of their own, like two reeds leaning on each other": "object" here means the appearance of the six sense-objects; "seeing" means the seeing belonging to the six sense-faculties — the first line speaks of "knowing," this line speaks of "seeing," each simply implying the other in turn. The appearance of the six sense-objects, apart from the faculty, certainly has no independent nature of its own at all; and the seeing of the six sense-faculties, apart from the object, likewise has no independent nature of its own either. "Like two reeds leaning on each other": this reed differs from an ordinary reed, since it can only grow with two stalks leaning together, intertwined at the root and joined along their length — a single stalk alone would simply collapse to the ground, unable to stand on its own, solid on the outside yet hollow within. This analogy carries three distinct meanings at once: first, that faculty and object depend on one another, neither possessing any independent nature of its own; second, that they share the very same source, originally one single thing, not two at all; and third, that neither the faculty, the object, emptiness, nor existence can rightly be asserted of either one alone.

Sūtra: "This is why, when your knowledge and seeing set up further knowledge, this is exactly the root of ignorance; but when your knowledge and seeing are free of any further seeing imposed on them, this is exactly nirvāṇa, undefiled and truly pure. How, then, could anything else be admitted into this?"

Commentary: This further explains that bondage and liberation are not two different things. "This is why": because the sense-root and its object are one and the same substance, you, even now, take your own knowledge and seeing and set up further knowledge and seeing upon it — "setting up" here is exactly bondage itself. "Knowledge and seeing" here points to the very nature of the sense-faculty, that is, the two kinds of awakening already inherent in this nature, already possessing wondrous brightness and bright wondrousness in full, true knowledge and true seeing themselves. There is no need to set up any further knowledge or seeing at all — the moment one does set up further knowledge and seeing, it is exactly like adding brightness on top of the nature of awareness's own original brightness: this becomes a false ignorance capable of "illuminating," and a false awareness thereby "illuminated" — hence, "this is exactly the root of ignorance." But once one realizes that this true knowledge and true seeing are already possessed in full, with no need to set up any further knowledge or seeing at all, this is exactly the pure, original mind itself, original awakening abiding forever — hence, "this is exactly nirvāṇa." "Undefiled and truly pure" nirvāṇa here means what is unborn and unceasing: not a single thought arising is called "undefiled"; not a single speck of dust staining it is called "truly pure" — returning to the very source of one's own mind, ultimately pure, this is exactly what is meant. The word "free" here is exactly liberation itself. One thus knows that bondage and liberation alike never depart from the six sense-faculties at all — how, then, could anything else possibly be admitted into either the knot or its untying?

The Zhèngmài commentary observes: the words "this is why," though they plainly follow from what was just said — that the sense-root and its object have no two separate substances, and so bondage and liberation lie in the sense-root alone — also carry a further, hidden continuity from the earlier point that neither emptiness nor existence can rightly be asserted of them. There is a further layer of meaning here still: "knowledge and seeing" encompasses the very nature of all six sense-faculties; "setting up further knowledge" means setting up the two views of emptiness and existence upon it. Ordinary beings, deluded, take the nature of the six sense-faculties to be existent; the two lesser vehicles, obscured, take this same nature to be empty — neither penetrating to the truth that neither emptiness nor existence can rightly be asserted of it at all. "This is exactly the root of ignorance": for ordinary beings, this means being fully endowed with all five abodes of affliction, sunk forever in birth-and-death by segments — both cases arising from the delusion of taking it to be existent as their own root. The two lesser vehicles still retain this fifth abode of affliction, not yet having escaped birth-and-death by mutation — both cases arising from the obscurity of taking it to be empty as their own root. "Free of any further seeing": free of both the view of emptiness and the view of existence — ordinary beings, with regard to the sense-nature, removing their attachment to the view of existence; the two lesser vehicles, with regard to this same sense-nature, removing their attachment to the view of emptiness. "Nirvāṇa" here reverses these same two kinds of birth-and-death just named; "undefiled and truly pure" here means being free of these same five abodes of affliction just named. "This is exactly" means: an ordinary being, removing the first four abodes of affliction, first attains the nirvāṇa still with remainder, undefiled and truly pure in that limited sense; while one of the two lesser vehicles, removing this fifth abode as well, attains the ultimate nirvāṇa without remainder, undefiled and truly pure in the fullest sense.

"How, then, could anything else be admitted into this?": this closes by gathering everything back to the Buddhas' own original statement. "This" refers to both the knot itself and its untying: within the knot, it is only the sense-faculty's own knot, with nothing else at all capable of being the root of this knot; and within the untying, it is only the sense-faculty's own untying, with nothing else at all capable of being the root of this untying either. This is exactly why the Buddhas, with one voice, all say there is nothing else at all. This closes the first part — the long-form prose.