Nature of mind and the desire for liberation.

What traps us? The Buddha taught us that we trap ourselves because of deluded thinking. We misunderstand our true nature and thus imagine that we’re fundamentally broken. And in this cloud of ignorance, we experience frustration, anxiety and remain firmly persuaded that we’re flat tires and desire a new one.

   
On the one hand, we are corrupted and do need a new one. Evidence of such corruption surrounds us. But when seen from a fundamental level there is nothing to save. This sounds like double-talk but only because we don’t understand our true nature.  If we did there would be no confusion.

In the commentary on the Diamond Sutra, Huang-Po said, “Buddhas and beings share the same identical mind. It’s like space: it doesn’t contain anything and isn’t affected by anything. When the great wheel of the sun rises, and light fills the whole world, space doesn’t become brighter. When the sun sets, and darkness fills the whole world, space doesn’t become darker. The states of light and darkness alternate and succeed one another, while the nature of space is vast and changeless. The mind of buddhas and beings is like this. Here, The Buddha says to save all beings in order to get rid of the delusion of liberation so that we can see our true nature.” 

Because we rely solely on bodily manifestations, a conclusion of corruption is inescapable and from that common logical premise, desire arises. From that perspective this is correct. But we are not fundamentally a body. As Huang-Po points out, fundamentally we share the same mind space as a Buddha. The mind is the production factory and our body is what’s produced. This is an important distinction. To not recognize this error is like imagining that our car manufactured itself and just suddenly appeared in our garage one day. Obviously, our car was produced somewhere and just as obviously so was our body. But then some will say, “This is nonsense. Our body was produced through the biological union between our father and mother.” Okay, so where did their bodies come from? This sequence must go all the way back to the beginninglessness of time, and we’re still left with the same dilemma.

On the other hand, consider the possibility that there is a difference between an objective body and an ineffable spirit that inhabits and is integrated with the body. An object is inanimate and has no consciousness or power to do anything, much less produce itself. Ah but a spiritual mind is an entirely different matter. Our spiritual mind produces everything, either for the good or for the worse depending on what we think. So long as we dwell only on bodily manifestations of pain and suffering without understanding the source, our mind will convert what is unreal into something that seems real, in a fashion similar to being in a dream without being aware that our dream is just an illusion.  Our spirit is the engine. Our body is the vehicle of motion and unless we see this distinction we’re left with the swing between the rising sun of goodness and the darkness of despair, plus the conclusion of being a flat tire.

Irrational exuberance and the tradition of silence.

“Dogma” is the thorn in our collective side. It is always heated,

exuberant, and close-minded. The message of dogma is one of self-righteousness and is based on obdurate and unyielding ideologies. My way or the highway is becoming a really big problem, around the world today. The “unmasked” champions are convinced that the COVID-19 virus will somehow know they are the good guys and steer clear to attack just their opposers—the bad guys. 

Opposing sides are so dug in it seems impossible to win hearts and minds, even among those who cling to hair-brain ideologies (e.g., think QAnon, for example). Rationality matters little to dogmatic holders. All dogma is based on conceptual thinking—impacted points of view arising from a perceived beautiful, rational perspective (at least in the eye of the ideologist). A contrary ideologist sees this perceived beauty as sheer ugliness. So long as dogma reigns, no reconciliation is possible and both opposing forces become irrationally exuberant.

In sharing the dharma, some have said, “You’re closed-minded to my perspectives but are asking me to join you in your close-mindedness.” There is a difference between Zen and other perspectives. The tradition of Zen is a silent tradition and is fundamentally rooted in a transcendent position, which reaches “across time and space,” not favoring one position or the other. From that platform, you might say that Zen is being closed-minded to being close-minded.

The most revered figure following the Buddha was Nagarjuna who is best known for his doctrine of two truths. The essence of his teaching is that we have no choice except to employ conventional means, which are admittedly delusional, to ultimately destroy delusion. By using words (conventional abstractions: conditioned phenomena) the goal is to go beyond words to find ultimate truth. 

The famous Diamond Sutra, held in high regard by Zen advocates, teaches this point, saying:

“All conditioned phenomena
Are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, or shadows;
Like drops of dew or flashes of lightning;
Thusly should they be contemplated.”

The identity we value (self-image, the imagined “I”) lives within the illusion of what we ordinarily regard as mind―the manifestations, which emerge from our true mind. According to Chán Master Sheng Yen, (Complete Enlightenment—Zen Comments on the Sutra of Complete Enlightenment)

“… there cannot be a self (e.g., ego) that is free from all obstructions. If there is a sense of self, then there are also obstructions. There cannot be obstructions without a self to create and experience them, because the self is an obstruction.”

Rationality came out of the European Age of Enlightenment as a solution to religious dogma, but it has become a different form of dogma. I am not suggesting that we return to religious dogma. Dogma of any kind is what happens when we close our minds to suchness—to things as they are. Rather than swing from one dogma to another, or one set of illusions to another, what we need to do is dump all dogma and illusions and rid ourselves of bias, and delusion. That is the thrust of Zen. It is about seeing clearly; seeing things as they are rather than how we imagine they ought to be. Zen is about balance, integration, and harmony, and is opposed to imbalance, disintegration, and chaos. 

Zen Master Huang Po spoke eloquently about the difference between conceptual ideologies and ultimate truth. He said, “If he (an ordinary man) should behold the glorious sight of all the Buddhas coming to welcome him, surrounded by every kind of gorgeous manifestations, he would feel no desire to approach them. If he should behold all sorts of horrific forms surrounding him, he would experience no terror. He would just be himself, oblivious of conceptual thought and one with the Absolute. He would have attained the state of unconditional being. This then is the fundamental principle.” (The Zen Teachings of Huang Po—On The transmission of Mind). 

Yes, Zen is dogmatic, but the target of dogma is dogma.

Transcendence and the Middle Way

Choosing the middle doorway.

“The Middle Way” is a hallmark of Buddhist thought yet the term is often short-changed or converted into a sort of formula for advancing toward enlightenment—A pathway. Over the vast expanse of time since Buddhism became established, this pathway was been adorned with many different embellishments, not all of which are helpful.

Initially, The Middle Way meant “not this, not that; not not this, not not that”—both a negation and an affirmation at the same time: a position (or non-position) between all opposites, but especially between permanence and impermanence. Expressed in equivalent terms: Between immortality and mortality. Rather than an either/or, it was the position of both/and. During the epoch of The Buddha, Indian philosophy was wrestling with these two opposites. One school argued in favor of an absolute, the other school argued in favor of complete nihilism. Upon his enlightenment, The Buddha realized that neither school was right, nor were they wrong—thus The Middle Way.

And while this enlightened conclusion may have philosophically resolved the matter, the real power is to transcend the entire issue, in fact, to transcend all opposition or sameness. In Western thought, something is momentarily one thing or another at any given point in time and space. A “white” object is only a discrete white object and nothing else. A “good” thing is discretely a good thing. One set of beliefs are right and others are wrong. If a person is considered to be alive mortally they can’t be alive immortally; if a Buddhist, not a Christian. We enshrine such exclusive labels. Given the passage of time, space, and circumstances one thing may (or may not) transform from one discrete thing into another. The problem with this way of thinking is that it moves back into the same argument that was resolved by The Buddha more than 2,500 years ago—“not this, not that; not not this, not not that.” Sometimes it seems that we are doomed to keep repeating the same error endlessly.

For The Middle Way to have any usefulness (beyond philosophy) transcendence is required: to simply move beyond all opposites and do away with such views, in fact, to transcend all ideas of who we all think we are. Our greatest of all fears is mortal death. And this fear is based on the idea that mortality and immortality are mutually exclusive. We misunderstand that true life does not die. While we are mortal beings, within our mortal house (which surely dies) resides immortality.
 

To adopt view “A” (while excluding all “non-A” views) gets us stuck, or to use a Buddhist term “attached” which The Buddha taught is the nexus of suffering. Practically speaking, hardly a moment passes when we don’t find ourselves taking up a firm stance on something. We almost regard this way as virtuous. My country right or wrong; love it or leave it. My ideology is right. Yours is wrong. And we demand that our leaders embrace this hardened, bunker mentality. This way of taking up inflexible stances is wreaking our world. How can we be open-minded without being considered wishy-washy or a fence straddler? In the West, it is very difficult. 

To answer that question it is necessary to seriously consider this matter of “transcendence.” The truth is that everything has two-interdependent states vs. discrete, independent states. A “white” object can only be that way because it contains all other colors. Scientists proved that long ago through diffraction. Okay, then you would argue that the opposite of white is black and for sure is not in the light spectrum—it is the absence of light. And “white” means nothing, without the existence of the opposite color.  This “view” would be correct and not correct—not this, not that, not not this, not not that. Why? Because light and not light arise together just as a mother can only be a mother by virtue of having a child, or a child can only be a child by virtue of having a mother: the chicken and egg thing. 

This interdependent acknowledgment has a name in Buddhism. It’s called dependent origination which has been central to evolving Dharma (e.g., truth) teachings. 

There have been many enlightened Zen masters but one of my favorites is Huang Po. Here is what he had to say about this issue. “Once you stop arousing concepts and thinking in terms of existence and non-existence, long and short, other and self, active and passive, and suchlike, you will find that your Mind is intrinsically the Buddha, that the Buddha is intrinsically Mind, and that Mind resembles a void.”—From the Wan Ling Record. Huang Po is very succinct and cuts to the heart of the matter. He is talking here about transcending, just canning all conceptual matters and allowing your mind to rest with the understanding that there are no valid, exclusive positions and when we adopt a position (any) we are trapped like a monkey who reaches into a jar to get a goodie and won’t let go, thus imprisoning himself. We do it all of the time and pay a heavy price when we do.

At the core of each and every one of us, there is a place of peace—a void, without this vs. that. Call it what you will: Buddha, One Mind, Dharmakāya, The Absolute, Immortality, whatever. The label doesn’t matter. When we move away from that middle place we run the risk of creating karma (either good or bad). At the core, there is no karma because this is the unconditional realm (e.g., without conditions). Yet this core space can’t exist without a conditional jar and if we try to grasp it we’ll get just as stuck as the monkey. But maybe Huang Po would say just forget about jars and what’s inside. Just let it all go.

What’s there?

Seeing through the fog of delusion.

“Look straight ahead. What’s there? If you see it as it is, you will never err.” These were the words spoken by Bassui Tokushō, a Rinzai Zen Master just before he died in 1387 in what is modern-day Kanagawa Prefecture in Japan. You might say these words were his chosen epitaph that summed up the essence of his life.

“Seeing what’s there” sounds incredibly easy. How could we not? We all have the same eyes, and the world we see is the same. Yet if we all saw the world “as it is,” instead of the way we would like it to be, or a way that confirms our preconceived beliefs and biases, it would be like Shunryu Suzuki referred to in his famous book Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind. Bias, however, construed, gets in the way of clear vision and suddenly we see the world through “Rose Colored glasses” (which are usually not so rosey).

There’s a fresh or innocent perspective when we see as a child sees: an honesty that is neither right nor wrong. In such a state of mind, there is no ax to grind, imbedded beliefs to defend, nor convictions to uphold. Things just are, as they are. 

The Buddha referred to himself as the Tathāgata, a compound word composed of “tathā” and “gata.” Various translations of this Sanskrit word have been proposed, one of which is called reality as-it-is. In this case, the term means, “the one who has gone to suchness” or “the one who has arrived at suchness”—the quality referred to by Zen Master Bassui and Shunryu Suzuki: “Seeing what’s there.”

While apparently easy, in fact, to see things as they are requires moving beyond the ideas we hold of ourselves and others; the pride of ownership in positions to which we become attached; bigotry that colors clarity; fears of ego threat; and preconceived beliefs—all of which serve as clouded lenses through which we see. These ideas swirl around the ego, like a wheel swirls around a central axel. When these ideas are removed, the world appears just as it has always been. Here is how Ch’an Master Hongzhi put this to verse:

“Right here—at this pivotal axle,
opening the swinging gate and clearing the way—
it is able to respond effortlessly to circumstances;
the great function is free from hindrances.”

The challenge is to stay at this central core as the world swirls and changes around us. The easy part is to become trapped in the allure of holding fast to dogmas of inflexibility, defending our points of view and responding in-kind to insults, and attacks. The hard part is staying fully present in the ebb and flow, like balancing on a surfboard, leaning neither to the left nor the right. You can read an expanded version concerning such understanding by clicking here.

There are times, given their extreme nature, that dictate actions we might not see as virtuous. “Expedient Means” may seem to violate teachings thought to be fundamental to our convictions, but as a prior politician once said, “Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.” He was no Zen Master, but he did articulate the essence of seeing things as they were and calling for expedient means. 

After all is said and done, the best advice for steering clear of conflict and getting sucked back into ego defense comes from Mark Twain: “Never argue with stupid people. They will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.” All of us can be stupid when we lose sight of what’s there.

Perpetual host; Holy ghost.

The Spirit arises

This is going to be a risky post since adherents to different faiths get disturbed by connecting dots of similarity. Nevertheless, I willingly choose to go where “angels fear to tread” since my topic is of utmost importance. The best way to begin is with a quote from Shakespeare: “A rose by any other name smells as sweet.” His point, and mine, is while the name may change, the essence stays the same.

I’ve danced around this burning bush numerous times trying to convey the essential point that our human nature is like a continually eroding house within which lives a permanent resident (with no name or status). Such posts as “Back to grammar school: the ghost of you and me,” “Guests and Hosts,” “The Watcher,” “Transcendence and the Middle Way,” “Nature of mind and the desire for liberation,” “Already, not yet,” “Separating wheat from chaff,” “East meets West meets East,” “If it walks like a duck…” and others, all address the point of this post but not all reached across the aisle. Now I will. What may or may not be known is that while all religious traditions are different in their dogma, the mystical traditions of each are nearly identical.

But before that reaching, my springboard will be a quote from a towering giant in the long line of Zen Masters: Huang Po…

“The text indicates that Huang Po was not entirely satisfied with his choice of the word ‘Mind’ to symbolize the inexpressible reality beyond the reach of conceptual thought, for he more than once explains that the One Mind is not Mind at all. But he had to use some term or other, and his predecessors had often used ‘Mind.’ As Mind conveys intangibility, it no doubt seemed to him a good choice, especially as the use of this term helps to make it clear that the part of a man usually regarded as an individual entity inhabiting his body is, in fact, not his property at all, but familiar to him and to everybody and everything else. (It must be remembered that, in Chinese, ‘hsin’ means not only ‘mind,’ but ‘heart’ and, in some senses, at least, ‘spirit,’ or ‘soul,’—in short, the so-called REAL man, the inhabitant of the body-house.) If we prefer to substitute the word Absolute, which Huang Po occasionally uses himself, we must take care not to read into the text any preconceived notions as to the nature of the Absolute. And, of course, ‘the One Mind’ is no less misleading, unless we abandon all preconceived ideas, as Huang Po intended.”—Commentary by John Blofeld (Chu Ch’an): The Zen Teachings of Huang Po: On The Transmission Of Mind.

That’s a safe segue onto the other side of the aisle that addresses the Christian principle of The Holy Ghost, who/which resides in “born again Christians.” The rose smells as sweet, but the name changes, as do the presuppositions. In the case of Zen, the host (True man of no rank), according to Master Lin Chin/Rinzai; Huang-Po’s student) was the eternal “REAL man, the inhabitant of the body-house.” 

The apparent difference between the teachings of orthodox Christianity and Zen, concerning the indwelling Spirit, is that Christian dogma says only those who confess Christ as Lord will be “born again” and receive the Holy Spirit. However, this dogma contradicts another fundamental aspect of Christian teaching, which says that God is eternal and omnipresent. Consequently, there is a fly in this ointment that was addressed by Meister Eckhart (Christian mystic)—“We shall find God in everything alike, and find God always alike in everything.”
Mystics (all) have plunged the depths to the essence of their natural being, whereas those who remain unenlightened see the surface and not the wisdom. For these, “…the great majority of people, the moon is the moon and the trees are trees.”

The core of you and me.

The useful center.

A tiny seed, when planted in good soil, given proper nutrients, sunshine, and protected from adverse conditions, can grow into a massive oak tree. 

Essential oil is a concentrated hydrophobic liquid (e.g., not compatible with water) containing volatile aromatic compounds from plants. An oil is “essential” in the sense that it carries a distinctive scent, or essence, of the plant. Essential oils are generally extracted by distillation. In other words, the essential scent has been derived from a source plant, but the plant is no longer needed for the aroma to exist. In a certain way, the aroma is independent and can permeate various media.

There is a curious correspondence between the oak tree, essential oil, and us. We, too, contain an essence that has been extracted from a source. And this essence includes the aroma of the source, which is infused in all sentient beings. Neither an essential oil nor our essence can be further distilled, and neither essence is subject to changing conditions. Once we arrive at essence, the aroma can be infused in various media, and the aroma persists.

What is the essence of essence—of all essences? Bodhidharma, the father of Zen, called the essential essence “our true mind”—The Buddha. Nothing, he said, is more essential than that. It is the void that is empty of any limiting characteristics: The essential essence. Out of this apparent nothingness comes everything. This is the realm of the unconditional absolute, beyond discriminate conditions of this or that.

That may or may not sound esoteric, lacking usefulness, but I’ll offer you two frames of reference: One from Lao Tzu and the other from contemporary physicist Lawrence Krauss. Lao Tzu said this about usefulness:

“We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.”

And this from Lawrence Krauss, who has proven mathematically that everything that exists emanates from nothingness. We are mesmerized by what moves but never consider what makes it move. Through Buddhism, we have learned that contrary to customary opinion, everything has two sides that define each other. “In” and “out” originate simultaneously, just as everything else does. This principle is known as dependent origination. And the most essential dimension of that principle is the seen vs. the unseen. 

All form depends on emptiness (and vice versa), just as Lawrence Krauss has demonstrated. What everyone will discover if pursued, is that we exist and don’t exist at the same time. “To claim that a goer goes implies that there could be a goer who does not go because it is asserted  that a goer goes.” Thus, a goer cannot exist without a non-goer, nor can a walker without a non-walker. The walker only comes along with walking. The thinker only emerges with thinking, digestion only with eating and the self with and through living. These opposites dependently originate. Independently neither could exist. The question is, what or who sparks the process of all?

In the 8th-century, an Indian Buddhist philosopher by the name of Śāntideva said that to be able to deny something, we first have to know what it is we’re denying. The logic of that is peerless. He went on to say, “Without contacting the entity that is imputed, you will not apprehend the absence of that entity.” Similarly, The Lankavatara Sutra (a Mahayana favorite of Bodhidharma) addressed the issue of one vs. another with this: “In this world whose nature is like a dream, there is a place for praise and blame, but in the ultimate Reality of Dharmakāya, (our true primordial mind of wisdom) which is far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind, what is there to praise?”

The wisdom of emptiness and dependent origination ultimately reduces down to there being no difference between our perceptible, bodily form, and our core of emptiness. They are two, united sides of the same thing. One side is perceptible (phenomena); the other beyond perception (noumena): A house and the inner space determine each other. There have been numerous terms used as alternates for noumena ranging from Buddha-Nature, Dharmakāya, the Void, Ground of being, Spirit, and the preference by Zen and Yogācāra was Mind—primordial mind (not the illusion of mind nor the illusion of self vs. no-self). In this state of mind, there is no discrimination—all is unified, whole, and complete, so there can be no difference between one thing and another thing. Space is space, regardless of location.

Huang Po (Japanese—Obaku; 9th century China) was particularly lucid in his teaching about these terms. In the Chün Chou Record he said this:

“To say that the real Dharmakāya (the Absolute) of the Buddha resembles the Void is another way of saying that the Dharmakāya is the Void and that the Void is the Dharmakāya...they are one and the same thing...When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha...the void is not really void but the realm of the real Dharma. This spiritually enlightening nature is without beginning...this great Nirvanic nature is Mind; Mind is the Buddha, and the Buddha is the Dharma.”

Nagarjuna, considered by many as the equivalent to the Apostle Paul in Christianity, was the master of delineating the connection between the unseen essence and perceptible manifestations. He said this:

1. Essence arising from
Causes and conditions makes no sense.
If essence came from causes and conditions,
Then it would be fabricated.
2. How could it be appropriate
For fabricated essence to come to be?
Essence itself is not artificial
And does not depend on another.
3. If there is no essence,
How can there be differences in entities?
The essence of difference in entities
Is what is called the entity of difference.
4. Without having essence or otherness-essence,
How can there be entities?
If there are essences and entities
Entities are established.
5. If the entity is not established,
A nonentity is not established.
An entity that has become different
Is a nonentity, people say.
6. Those who see essence and essential difference
And entities and nonentities,
They do not see
The truth taught by the Buddha.
7. The Victorious One, through knowledge
Of reality and unreality,
In the Discourse toKatyayana,
Refuted both “it is” and “it is not.”
8. If existence were through essence,
Then there would be no nonexistence.
A change in essence
Could never be tenable.
9. If there is no essence,
What could become other?
If there is essence,
What could become other?
10. To say “it is” is to grasp for permanence.
To say “it is not” is to adopt the view of nihilism.
Therefore a wise person
Does not say “exists” or “does not exist.”
11. “Whatever exists through its essence
Cannot be nonexistent” is eternalism.
“It existed before but doesn’t now”
Entails the error of nihilism.

Putting this into less abstruse terms, essence and non-essence are integrated into an irrevocable bond, and to extract one part extracts the other just as by removing “in,” “out” is eliminated. This is the standard of dependent origination at work, which leads the Buddha to state in the Heart Sutra that detectable form is the same thing as undetectable emptiness. And the significance to us all is that our essential nature (which is lacking all definable characteristics, is pure and indiscriminate) lies at our core. 

In contrast, our mortal, non-eternal nature, perceived as an ego, has infinite defining characteristics. And furthermore, the quality of our essence is opposite from the quality of our non-essence: ego (seen) and true nature (unseen) are polar opposites.

Master Hsuan Hua writes about this matter in the opening section of The Shurangama Sutra. He points out two aspects of our mind: one aspect superficial but unreal, the other hidden but real. He says that the hidden part is like an internal gold mine, which must be excavated to be of value. This gold mine is everywhere but not seen. The superficial part is also everywhere but seen, and it is this superficial part that lies at the root of suffering. He said,

“The Buddha-nature is found within our afflictions. Everyone has afflictions and everyone has a Buddha-nature. In an ordinary person, it is the afflictions, rather than the Buddha-nature, that are apparent...Genuine wisdom arises out of genuine stupidity. When ice (afflictions) turns to water, there is wisdom; when water (wisdom) freezes into ice, there is stupidity. Afflictions are nothing but stupidity.”

We have all had conversations about the essential nature of people. Some say that we are rotten to the core—that there is no essential good there. Such people have given up on themselves and their own human family. This voice is split between those who believe in God and those who don’t. On the one hand, if there is to be any essence of good, it is purely the result of that good coming from an external God. The “non-believers” hold no hope at all—Just rotten to the core. Neither of these voices acknowledges intrinsic worth. To one, the worth is infused; to the other, there is none. The eternal presence of Buddha-nature is a contrary voice of faith: the recognition of intrinsic, essential worth, present in all of life, and it is this gold mine, which, when accepted in faith that manifests in wisdom amid affliction and turns ice into water.

The routine understanding is that Buddhism is a Godless religion, and the reason for this view is that the Buddha didn’t focus on a concept of God but instead focused on understanding and overcoming suffering. It’s worth the time and energy to thoroughly investigate this matter. First is the notion that God can be understood conceptually. The Buddha’s perspective was that such a thing was not possible, any more than emptiness can be conceptually grasped.  When thoughtfully considered, this is, of course, true. By forming a concept (of anything), reality is lost. “God” (pure consciousness) is transcendent to all considerations and can’t be enclosed within any conceptual framework. To even attach a name such as “God” is to be lost in delusion.

Sokei-an Shigetsu Sasaki used the name “Great Nature” and “Great Self.” There are many names to point to the nameless creator of the heavens and earth, but Sokei-an perhaps said it best. He said, “If you really experience ‘it’ with your positive shining soul, you really find freedom. No one will be able to control you with names or memory of words—Socrates, Christ, Buddha. Those teachers were talking about consciousness. Consciousness is common to everyone. When you find your true consciousness, you will not need the names or words of any teacher.” As a result, The Buddha addressed only what can be controlled and didn’t participate in fostering further delusion.

So the question is whether or not ‘it’ can be defined, even marginally. What are the characteristics of ‘it’ and how does ‘it’ function? Whatever name is chosen, whether Christian, Buddhist, or any other group of people, the nature of God is understood to inhabit the entirety of creation. The creator can’t be severed from what is created, which is the point of the Buddhist understanding that all form is the same thing as emptiness. Rather than using the name “God” (in vain), the name “Buddha” is used, and “Buddha” means awakened to the true essence of oneself. Such a person is said to enjoy the mind of enlightenment. 

If you read Buddhist literature extensively, you’ll find a laundry list of sorts, which speaks to this mind of enlightenment. It includes the following qualities: complete, ubiquitous, full of bliss, independent, transcendent, full of wisdom, never changes, the ground of all being, creative force of everything, devoid of distinctive nature (ineffable) yet all form endowed with this nature. When you take all of this in and digest it, a duck begins to emerge that walks, talks and looks like a duck. In the final analysis, a name is fleeting, but the substance remains forever. 

Here is what Jesus is recorded as having said about where God lives: “If your leaders say, ‘Look, the Kingdom is in the Heavens,’ then the birds will be before you. If they say, ‘It is in the ocean,’ then the fish will be before you. But the Kingdom is inside of you and the Kingdom is outside of you. When you know yourself, then you will know that you are of the flesh of the living Father. But if you know yourself not, then you live in poverty and that poverty is you.”—Gospel of Thomas 3.

The problem is we translate reality conceptually. The solution is not thinking. I know that sounds puzzling, but here is the Rosetta Stone answer: our true mind is always at peace and enlightened, and our thinking mind is eternally restless and unenlightened. I don’t think Voltaire was a Zenist, but here is how he defined meditation: “Meditation is the dissolution of thoughts in Eternal awareness or Pure consciousness without objectification, knowing without thinking, merging finitude in infinity.” 

What we “think” is our mind is not our mind because our mind is the source of thinking and not thinking but is itself neither. Our true mind is transcendent and can’t possibly be one or the other since it is the source of both. There is no discrimination in our true mind, so it can’t be one thing or another thing. Our true mind contains nothing yet everything comes from there. It is an “everything-nothing” mind—on the one hand, empty yet full at the same time.

Around 700 years ago in Germany, a Christian theologian, philosopher, and mystic by the name of Meister Eckhart said this...

“The shell must be cracked apart if what is in it is to come out, for if you want the kernel you must break the shell. And therefore if you want to discover nature’s nakedness you must destroy its symbols, and the farther you get in, the nearer you come to its essence. When you come to the One that gathers all things up into itself, there you must stay.”

However, this quintessence might be described is limited to the linguistic symbols and concepts we must employ when we communicate. The danger of any communication, however, is to participate in a fraud, leading those still locked in suffering, to mistake the symbols of communication for the essence, which are inadequately being described. That is the danger, but it is a risk, which must be accepted. Surrogate of words can never take the place of tasting the sweet divine nectar. And to so taste, requires personal in-the-mouth experience. Words will not give anyone the taste.

From Huang Po’s perspective, there is a bonded connection between phenomena and this One Mind—They too are the same thing. Neither can exist apart from the other. Hear what he said about his connection...“To the ancients, to find the true essence of life, it was necessary to cast off body and mind. When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha.”

In an unexplainable way, Mind is no-Mind, which is, of course, the teaching of the Heart Sutra—Form is emptiness. This eternal  Void/Emptiness is the ground out of which impermanent, mortal forms arise. It is Buddha-nature (Buddha dhatu—womb of the Buddha: our essential nature). And the pearl of hope contained in this understanding is that while phenomenal life blows away like dust in the wind, our true nature never passes away. Our intrinsic nature is both natural (phenomenal and finite) and transcendent (noumenal and infinite). We are both form and emptiness. To savor, just impermanence is to suck on an empty clamshell and imagine a full stomach.

As Buddhism becomes known in the West, an unfortunate development is occurring as a reflection of our preoccupation with science. Objectivity is the cornerstone of science since it begins and ends with the ability to measure phenomena. Anything beyond that constraint has no scientific validity and is consequently seen of no value. There is much of value about Buddhism from that limited perspective just as there is much of value in the study of anatomy, but neither anatomy nor phenomenal Buddhism has very much to say about the sublime source of both, and neither could exist without it.

Orthodox Buddhism denies the existence of Atman—SELF, claiming that everything is null and void, arguing one side but denying the other, which Nagarjuna nails as nihilism. This argument is counter to the premise of dependent origination, which is foundational to Buddhism as well as the teachings of the Buddha himself. The evident point missed in this argument is that emptiness is itself empty (non-empty). Does SELF exist? Nagarjuna would answer “yes” and “no”—the Middle Way. If the essence of SELF exists, then nobody, except SELF, would know without the counterweight.

Science is a marvelous tool but is limited to measurability. Yet no one has ever been able to measure mind (much less even find it), which according to numerous Buddhist texts, is the Buddha. We have come a long way over the centuries and can measure things today, not even previously imagined. Does that mean that reality comes and goes according to the capacity of tools? Truth stands alone and is not conditioned by progress, however marvelous.

What we don’t know can hurt us.

The realm of reality.

Many, if not most, of the problems we encounter as humans are due to what we either don’t know or refuse to know. Such a lack has a way of catching us off guard at the worst possible moments, usually late in the game when there is little we can do to stop, or at least slow the progression toward disaster. 

The coronavirus pandemic is a case in point. So long as we can be aware of the sign-posts, we can prepare for the worst while hoping for the best. Hope, however, must be realistic and in line with those sign-posts, or it remains pie in the sky. What we don’t know can, and many times does, hurt us.

Without knowing, we live in two realms at once: The realm of rational conditions (the mortal one) and a realm beyond conditions, where immortality lives. Think of the realm of immortality as the ground from which our mortal lives grow. It is very much like growing a garden. If the immortal soil is full of nutrients, then the odds are better, the mortal produce will be nutritious.

The realm of mortal conditions is our ordinary realm, where one thing stands in opposition to another. Mortally, we have a beginning and an ending. In this realm, differentiation is the criteria and is based on the senses that tell us how we are all different. Our sense of sight says to us, light is different from darkness. Our auditory sense tells us that sound is different from silence, and so on—each of our senses discriminates one thing from another different sensory thing.

The immortal realm is the realm of unity, where everything is the same. And unlike what grows, the immortal ground has no beginning nor end. That’s the good soil and is the unconditional realm of the spirit: The ground of all being—the well-spring of all. And these two realms are irrevocably joined together in perfect harmony. Should one realm disappear, the other would disappear. When one appears, the other appears. They define one another, and without an opposite, neither can be understood, just as without light, darkness would have no meaning. One is an abstraction—an illusion that appears to our senses as real, whereas the other, while invisible to the senses, is reality itself.

To our collective misfortune, the ordinary realm (e.g., the conditional) is what governs our world and is the root of all woe. It is because we imagine our life will end that we fear death, never realizing that genuine life never ends. Mortality segues into immortality, and life goes on. However, when we think we get only one shot, we see ourselves as distinct, separate, and different only. Then the mortal realm becomes a place where tribal wars of opposition rule the day, where nobody genuinely “reaches across the aisle,” and compromise becomes impossible, except as disingenuous lip-service.

It is within the silence of the mind where we discover our true, immortal worth. When all thinking ceases, it is there we find our true nature. Yet, as The Buddha taught, in emptiness, there is no mind and no self, so we call them both by abstract names to become aware. Without abstraction, only silence prevails, but it is within silence where we become enlightened to that which is the source of all awareness.

To most of the western world, Zen is a strange and confusing matter, most often utterly misunderstood. The founder of Zen (Bodhidharma) defined Zen as “not thinking.” And the great master Huang Po taught: “Whatever the senses apprehend resembles an illusion, including everything ranging from mental concepts to living beings. Our Founder—The Buddha, preached to his disciple's naught (e.g., nothing) but total abstraction leading to the elimination of sense-perception. In this total abstraction does the Way of the Buddhas flourish; while from discrimination between this and that a host of demons blazes forth!” — The Zen Teachings of Huang Po, (The teacher of Zen Master Rinzai).

If westerners had lived in the eastern world, Zen would not seem strange. Instead, the odds are favorable that Zen would be understood as the means The Buddha employed to experience enlightenment. Many in the western world have become aware of the practice of mindfulness meditation in helping to quiet the mind, leading to less stress and improved health. However, what has not yet become well established is the next stage beyond mindfulness. 

Quieting the mortal mind is a sign-post on the way to what follows. First, the chatter must be regulated and brought under control. Then, and only then, is it possible to move on to the deeper stage of Samādhi attained by the practice of dhyāna (e.g., the ancient name given to the practice of Zen—the last step in the Eight Fold Path, otherwise known as Right Concentration). The preceding step (the seventh) was known as Right mindfulness, the level that is now so popular. There is nothing wrong with mindfulness. But there is more beyond that sign-post on the way, but following that, the going gets tougher.

The great Buddhist meditation master Chögyam Trungpa said, “My advice to you is not to undertake the spiritual path. It is too difficult, too long, and is too demanding. I suggest you ask for your money back and go home. This is not a picnic. It is really going to ask everything of you. So, it is best not to begin. However, if you do begin, it is best to finish.” The beginning would be more aligned with Right mindfulness, whereas Right Concentration is more aligned with finishing up the journey.

The eye-glasses upon our nose.

Seeing only clouds of delusion.

Zen Master Huang Po (Huángbò Xīyùn) was one of the most important and revered teachers of all time. Among other contributions he was the teacher of Lin-chi (the founder of Rinzai Zen) and the promulgator of the inherent nature of the One Mind, being everything. His teaching on this reflected the Indian concept of the tathāgatagarbha—the idea that within all beings is the nature of the Buddha. Therefore, Huang Po taught that seeking the Buddha was futile as the Buddha already resided within:

This principle is one of the most difficult for aspirants to comprehend since the vast majority of the human race firmly believes Enlightenment IS to be attained and may spend their entire phenomenal lives seeking what they already possess. This idea of no attainment was eloquently articulated by the following:

“If an ordinary man, when he is about to die, could only see the five elements of consciousness as void; the four physical elements as not constituting an ‘I’; the real Mind as formless and neither coming nor going; his nature as something neither commencing at his birth nor perishing at his death, but as whole and motionless in its very depths; his Mind and environmental objects as one–if he could really accomplish this, he would receive Enlightenment in a flash. He would no longer be entangled by the Triple World; he would be a World-Transcender. He would be without even the faintest tendency towards rebirth. If he should behold the glorious sight of all the Buddhas coming to welcome him, surrounded by every kind of gorgeous manifestation, he would feel no desire to approach them. If he should behold all sorts of horrific forms surrounding him, he would experience no terror. He would just be himself, oblivious of conceptual thought and one with the Absolute. He would have attained the state of unconditioned being. This, then, is the fundamental principle.”

His expositions reflected the same principle expressed roughly 1,600 years prior in the Bhagavad-Gita, which spoke of the eternal, yet obscured nature of the Self:

“Once identified with the Self, we know that although the body will die, we will not die; our awareness of this identity is not ruptured by the death of the physical body. Thus we have realized the essential immortality which is the birthright of every human being. To such a person, the Gita says, death is no more traumatic than taking off an old coat.”

If we could grasp and experience our essential nature, all fear for our destiny would disappear, we would awaken to our truth and realize Enlightenment in a flash. Yet we are lost in a cloud of delusion as one would be when looking through the lenses of eyeglasses positioned upon our noses.

Staying Present and non-discrimination.

The past is dead, the future is yet to come.

I know I made a formal, online pledge to begin speaking my own words and begin to cease speaking other people’s words. 

That remains my goal but the path of mortal life moves forward full of flaws. The keyword of my committed vector toward immortality is “begin.”

That said, I have feasted on the wisdom of spiritual giants, and from time to time I am drawn to their words for a simple reason: They are considered giants because of their wisdom and means of expression. 

Such is the case today and my sharing comes from maybe the greatest of all was Huangbo Xiyun (or simply Huang Po)—the teacher of Chan (Zen) Master Rinzai Gigen; the founder of one of two remaining strands of Zen. And the strand I studied, began, continued with and within that strand found my inner truth, which saved my life.

Huángbò’s most significant contribution, to the treasure chest of human wisdom, was his teaching centered on the concept of “mind.” If it were possible, to sum up (a profound dis-service) his teaching it would be, “It is as it is. It was as it was. It will be what it will be.”—with nothing added (perfection personified). Closely aligned with “things as they are” is what in technical terms equates with Suchness (or thusness). 

To adequately unpack that summary would be an entire dissertation. So I will leave that aside and get to the core, which is that our thoughts are the engine of karma-producing actions, for the good; the bad or the in-between. Huángbò’s, and my, grasp of how this works in ordinary life is when we think, anything at all, we leave reality behind and substitute for it an abstraction, tempting the demons (metaphorically) toward judgments, biases and dogmatic, dug-in life. 

When we do that we get caught up in the whirlwind of attachments, not realizing that we already have the treasure we seek. And when that happens we are lost in the hurricane of samsara, (living hell) we move further and further away from the greatest of all treasures: The source of never-ending fulfillment, which is always with us, never leaves us, and becomes hidden beneath the soil of ever-deepening bad stuff, with some really nasty behavior and feedback.

Aha, you might say, but The Buddha said, “We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.”  True enough but what if we just saw life “as it is truly?” A central question is, to which world was he referencing? Or the flip side—which world was he not referencing? For sure he was not referring to the unconditional/ultimate realm since that realm has no defining properties and can’t be defined or thought of, so it must have been this conditional world that is made with our thoughts, for the good or the bad. 

I hesitate to say more since more words on top of other words leads us further and further away down the primrose path. However, I will justify my addition be employing another fundamental principle—that of Nāgārjuna’s Two Truth Doctrine, which in essence says we must use the vehicle of the artificial to expose the genuine article. One of these truths is our ordinary, conventional one, which we take to be the ultimate, but in fact is the exact opposite. Conventionally our perception is conditional where everything is contingent upon other conditional matters, which are also in constant motion. Without awareness, we are engaged in a never-ending tennis match of delusion. Ultimate truth, however, never changes, is always present, and is dependent upon nothing. And these two truths are inseparably bonded together.

So I can only point to the mind with words, but never find it since it is impossible to use the mind to find the mind. All things arise from the ground of all being (e.g., mind); stable as the rock lying hidden beneath the sands of the shore which are swept away by the surf. The notion here is quite similar to the parable told by Jesus in Luke 6:48-49—building our house upon the bedrock instead of the moving sands.

But alas I drift from the initial matter of “things as they are,” sans the addition of thinking (the abstraction of the real). I’ve said enough of my own words and will thus end with two quotes of Huangbo Xiyun: “Here it is—right now. Start thinking about it and you miss it.” and “The foolish reject what they see, not what they think; the wise reject what they think, not what they see.” Think about that. Better yet don’t think, then you too will accept “things as they are,” and remain in the ever-present moment with no discrimination.