Every Category, the Same Discovery

Ānanda, when the eye is stared fixed until it strains, both the eye and the strain alike are marks of bodhi itself straining into fatigue. Dependent on the two false objects of brightness and darkness, seeing arises in between them, taking hold of these objects — this is called the nature of seeing. This seeing, apart from those two objects of brightness and darkness, has, in the end, no substance of its own. ... If it came from brightness, it should vanish along with darkness, and so should not be able to see darkness. If it came from darkness, it should vanish along with brightness, and so should have no seeing of brightness. If it arose from the faculty itself, then, brightness and darkness aside, this essence of seeing would have no nature of its own to begin with. If it emerged from empty space, then, having gazed outward at objects, it should turn and see the faculty itself — and besides, if space itself were doing the observing, what would that have to do with your own entrance of seeing? You should therefore know that the entrance of the eye is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, it is like a person who presses two fingers firmly into his ears: the ear-faculty, strained, produces a ringing sound inside the head. Both the ear and the strain alike are marks of bodhi itself straining into fatigue — hearing arises dependent on the two false objects of motion and stillness ... You should therefore know that the entrance of the ear is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, it is like a person who inhales sharply through the nose until, over time, it becomes strained, so that he perceives a sensation of cold within the nose ... You should therefore know that the entrance of the nose is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, it is like a person licking his own lips: licking them until worn and strained, if the person is ill he tastes bitterness, and if well, a faint sweetness ... You should therefore know that the entrance of the tongue is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, it is like a person touching a cold hand to a hot one: if the cold is stronger, the hot hand turns cold; if the heat is stronger, the cold hand turns warm ... You should therefore know that the entrance of the body is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, it is like a person who, wearied, falls asleep, and, once well-rested, wakes; who, taking in an object, remembers it, and, losing that memory, forgets — this arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing, taken in through habituation, returns without ever overstepping its own bounds, and this is called the faculty of mind-cognition ... You should therefore know that the entrance of the mind is false — originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, look now at this Jeta Grove with its trees and springs and pools — what do you think? Is it that the form gives rise to the eye's seeing, or that the eye gives rise to the appearance of form? ... You should therefore know that seeing and form, and empty space besides, have no location at all — the two fields of form and seeing are false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, listen again to the drum sounding in this Jeta Grove as the meal is prepared, and the bell struck to gather the assembly — the sounds of bell and drum following one another in succession. Does the sound come to your ear, or does your ear go out to where the sound is? ... You should therefore know that hearing and sound have no location at all — the two fields of hearing and sound are false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, smell again the sandalwood burning in the censer: if a single grain of it is lit, the scent is smelled throughout the forty li around Śrāvastī all at once. Does this fragrance arise from the sandalwood, from your nose, or from empty space? ... You should therefore know that fragrance, the nose, and the smelling of it have no location at all — the two fields of smelling and fragrance are false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, at your two daily meal-times, holding your bowl among the assembly, you sometimes encounter ghee or clarified butter, called a superior flavor. Does this flavor arise in empty space, in the tongue, or in the food itself? ... You should therefore know that flavor, the tongue, and the tasting of it have no location at all — the two fields of tasting and flavor are equally false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, every morning you rub your head with your hand — what do you think? In this rubbing and its being felt, what is it that does the touching? Is the capacity to touch in the hand, or in the head? ... You should therefore know that the sensation of touch, the object touched, and the body have no location at all — the two fields of body and touch are equally false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, whatever your mind takes hold of among wholesome, unwholesome, and neutral phenomena, giving rise to their patterns as mental objects — do these mental objects arise from mind itself, or do they have some location apart from mind? ... You should therefore know that mental objects and mind have no location at all — the two fields of mind and mental phenomena are equally false, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you understand it, eye and form, taken as conditions, give rise to eye-consciousness — but does this consciousness arise dependent on the eye, taking the eye as its basis, or dependent on form, taking form as its basis? ... You should therefore know that eye-consciousness, said to arise from eye and form as conditions, has no location in any of the three — eye, form, and the resulting element of consciousness are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you further understand it, ear and sound, taken as conditions, give rise to ear-consciousness — but does this consciousness arise dependent on the ear, taking the ear as its basis, or dependent on sound, taking sound as its basis? ... You should therefore know that ear-consciousness, said to arise from ear and sound as conditions, has no location in any of the three — ear, sound, and the resulting element of consciousness are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you further understand it, nose and fragrance, taken as conditions, give rise to nose-consciousness ... You should therefore know that nose-consciousness has no location in any of the three — nose, fragrance, and the resulting element, are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you further understand it, tongue and flavor, taken as conditions, give rise to tongue-consciousness ... You should therefore know that tongue-consciousness has no location in any of the three — tongue, flavor, and the resulting element, are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you further understand it, body and touch, taken as conditions, give rise to body-consciousness ... You should therefore know that body-consciousness has no location in any of the three — body, touch, and the resulting element, are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda, as you further understand it, mind and mental phenomena, taken as conditions, give rise to mind-consciousness ... You should therefore know that mind-consciousness has no location in any of the three — mind, mental phenomena, and the resulting element, are, all three, originally neither a matter of causes and conditions, nor of any spontaneous nature.

Ānanda said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, the Tathāgata has always taught that all the world's various transformations come about through the combination of causes and conditions — through the combining of the four great elements. Why, then, does the Tathāgata now reject both causes-and-conditions and spontaneity alike? I do not know where this teaching belongs. I beg only that you, in compassion, reveal to sentient beings the middle way, the teaching of complete meaning, free of empty argument."

At that time the World-Honored One said to Ānanda: "You once turned away from the teachings of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, resolving to seek unsurpassed bodhi — and so I now reveal to you the ultimate truth. Why, then, do you again entangle yourself in the world's empty arguments and deluded talk of causes and conditions? Though you are learned, you are like a person who can recite the names of medicines but cannot recognize the real medicine when it is right in front of him — the Tathāgata truly calls this pitiable!"

Consider the nature of earth: coarse, it is the great earth itself; fine, it is dust. Down to the "dust bordering on emptiness" — splitting the very edge of the smallest particle of matter, formed of seven parts — split it once more, and it becomes true empty space itself. ... You have simply never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of form is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true form — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know, manifesting in accordance with karma. The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all.

Ānanda, fire has no self of its own; it depends on various conditions to appear. Observe a household in the city that has not yet cooked its meal, wishing to light the stove, holding a burning-glass up to the sun to kindle fire. ... Does this fire come out of the mirror, out of the tinder, or from the sun itself? ... The sun and the mirror are far apart from one another; there is neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them, and yet it would be wrong to say the fire's light simply has no source at all. You still do not know that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of fire is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true fire — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know.

Ānanda, the nature of water is unfixed: it flows or rests without constancy. The great sorcerers of Śrāvastī — such as the sage Kapila — seeking the essence of the moon to mix into their magical potions, hold up a moon-pearl by day under the bright moon, catching the water that gathers from the moon. Does this water come out of the pearl, exist already in empty space, or come from the moon itself? ... The moon and the pearl are far apart from one another; there is neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them, and yet it would be wrong to say the water's essence simply has no source at all. You still do not know that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of water is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true water — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know.

Ānanda, wind has no fixed substance; its moving and stillness are not constant. When you straighten your robe to enter the assembly, the corner of your outer robe brushes against the person beside you, and a faint breeze touches that person's face. Does this wind come out of the corner of the robe, arise from empty space, or come from that person's own face? ... Wind and space are, by nature, separate from each other; there is neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them, and yet it would be wrong to say this nature of wind simply has no source at all. You still do not know that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of wind is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true wind — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know.

Ānanda, space has no form of its own; it is revealed only through form. Consider a household far from the river in Śrāvastī, newly settled, digging a well in search of water. For every foot of earth removed, a foot of empty space appears in its place; and so on, up to removing a full fathom of earth, revealing a full fathom of empty space in turn — the depth of the space keeping exact pace with how much earth is removed. Does this space come from the earth, from the digging, or does it arise spontaneously, with no cause at all? ... Digging and space, one solid and one empty, cannot act upon each other; there is neither a true mixing nor a true combining between them, and yet it would be wrong to say this space simply has no source at all. ... You do not know at all that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of awareness is true emptiness, and the nature of emptiness is true awareness — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know.

Ānanda, the awareness of seeing has, in itself, no content of its own — it appears only through brightness and darkness. ... Is this seeing one and the same substance as brightness, darkness, and empty space together, or not the same substance? Is it, perhaps, both the same and not the same, or neither the same nor different? ... Seeing darkness and seeing brightness — this seeing-nature itself never changes — so how could it be called "different" from them? ... You have never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of seeing is true awareness and bright, the essence of awareness is true, bright seeing — pure and unmoved from the start, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, appearing according to each sentient being's mind and capacity to know.

Ānanda, consciousness has no single source; it arises falsely, dependent on the six pairs of sense-faculties and their objects. Look now across this whole assembly of noble ones — as your eye passes over them, roving freely, it sees them at first exactly as a mirror does, without distinguishing anything at all. Then your consciousness, one by one, picks out and names each one in turn: this is Mañjuśrī, this is Pūrṇa, this is Maudgalyāyana, this is Subhūti, this is Śāriputra. Does this act of recognizing consciousness arise from the seeing, from the appearances themselves, from empty space, or does it emerge suddenly, with no cause at all? ... You have simply never known that, in the tathāgatagarbha, the nature of consciousness is bright knowing, and true consciousness is the brightness of awareness itself — wondrously aware and utterly still, pervading the whole Dharma-realm, containing and giving forth the ten directions of emptiness — how could it have any fixed location? The unknowing world mistakes this for a matter of causes and conditions or of spontaneity — all of it merely the discriminating, calculating mind; there is only talk, with no real substance in it at all."

At that time Ānanda and the whole assembly, receiving the Tathāgata's subtle and wondrous instruction, felt body and mind grow entirely open, free of every obstruction. Each one of them came to know, for themselves, that mind pervades the ten directions, and saw the empty space of the ten directions the way one sees a leaf held in the palm of the hand. Everything that exists in the whole world is nothing but the wondrous, bright, original mind of bodhi; the essence of mind, perfectly full and complete, encloses and contains the ten directions within itself. Looking back at the body born of their own parents, it seemed like a single speck of dust blown about somewhere within the boundless space of the ten directions, now appearing, now vanishing; like a single bubble floating on a vast, calm ocean, arising and ceasing with no origin to be found.

Clearly, of themselves, they knew they had recovered their own original, wondrous mind, ever-abiding and never perishing. Bowing to the Buddha, palms joined, having gained what they had never had before, they spoke this verse of praise before the Tathāgata: