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.

A Christmas message.

The name changes. The essence doesn't.

Suppose I said, “The universe is mine or ours.” Clearly, such a statement is delusional since the universe is pretty big, and to suggest that it belongs to you or me is ridiculous. But suppose I shortened the span of space and said, “The earth is mine or ours.” Smaller span but still pretty big and still ridiculous. How far down do we need to go before it stops being ridiculous? Or, for that matter, how much bigger? We could go all the way down to the quantum level or outward to the farthest expanse of space, and the essence of the statement won’t change. 

The word “The” is a definite article: something definite or unconditional. “The universe” is not contingent and isn’t altered by our presence, and isn’t waiting on anyone to possess it. Both “mine” and “ours” are forms of possessive pronouns, and both have the same meaning: To possess something. 

“My self” is different in meaning from “The self.” The first implies possession, and the second is independent, just as “My shirt” is different from “The shirt.” Okay, is it possible for anyone to possess himself or herself? Heck, we can’t even say what “The self” is, so how can it be possessed? In truth, nothing can be possessed since, in our true nature, there is no real self to possess anything.

We have this idea that we can know ourselves but, when we turn our eyeballs around and look within, nobody’s home. Some time ago, I wrote a post after reading Paul Brok’s book “Into the Silent Land.” Broks asks alarming and provocative questions such as “Am I out there or in here?” when he portrays an imaginary man with a transparent skull, watching in a mirror how his own brain functions. He notices, for us all, that the world exists inside the tissue residing between our ears. And when the tissue is carefully examined, no world, no mind, no self, no soul, no perceptual capacities, nor consciousness—nothing but inanimate meat is found. Unable to locate, what we all take for granted, he suggests that we are neither “in here” nor “out there,” maybe somewhere in between the space between the in and the out, and maybe nowhere at all.

It’s a mystifying perspective, yet all of us just continue on down the road without ever truly grasping who it is that’s continuing. Nagarjuna parsed this matter in various ways, but one of my favorites is his poem about walking, which ends this way... “These moving feet reveal a walker but did not start him on his way. There was no walker prior to departure. Who was going where?” There is no walker without walking, just as there is no thinker without thinking.

The Buddha properly pointed out that there is no discernible identity at the core of each of us, and we only begin to fabricate a self-image (ego) once we move and take action. Until then, there is no observable identity. The actions we take define who we are, not the ideologies to which we cling. Of course, what we think is usually followed by action. Without action, either for the good or the bad, we are no one at all. And when we remain still, we have a potential for unlimited either. Then we are silent and can dwell in the infinite space of tranquility, wholeness, peace, and readiness, which lies at the very heart of undifferentiated sentience.

On the other hand, when we imagine ourselves as distinctly unique individuals, we become an incomplete ego with definable differences that must possess and attach to forms to identify. That fabrication must possess and makes things mine. Then the universe, and all therein contained, stops being the universe and becomes my universe. This, however, doesn’t mean movement necessarily equates to being a possessive ego. So long as we remain aware of our genuine indefinable sentient nature and not a fabricated ego, our movement can be nonpossessive. We can continue as nonjudgemental members of indiscriminate humanity. 

What everyone will discover, if pursued, is that we exist and don’t exist at the same time. The “walker” only comes along with walking. The thinker only emerges with thinking, digestion only with eating, and the self with and through living. The question is, what or who sparks the process of all?

There’s a direct link between what we think and what we do. The Buddha said, “We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.” He then went on to say, “To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.”  Jesus likewise pointed out that “the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them. For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a person.” 

Today there is far too much negative rhetoric and inaction. Likewise, there is far too little positive thought and action in our world. As you open your gifts on Christmas day, think about the greatest of gifts: The gift of giving yourself to make the world a far, far better place. 

Coming and going.

“The Master arrives without leaving, sees the light without looking, achieves without doing a thing.”—Lao Tzu: TaoTe Ching

The quote above has special significance to anyone who has unveiled their true nature. And I use the term “unveil” instead of achieving with intent. Indeed our true nature, for all practical purposes, is buried deep within and must be uncovered. It never comes and never leaves. 

Until that moment our sense of self is anything but permanent. It comes and it goes, riding the waves of good times and bad, dangling on a string of judgments. The importance of the principle is of such significance that it represents a pillar among various Buddhist sects in metaphorical terms of guests and hosts. If you Google “Zen, guest and host” you’ll end up with more than 780,000 hits all of which examine the matter from every conceivable direction.

The essence, however, is very simple even though the means of “achieving without doing” can boggle the mind with infinite permutations. In essence “The Master” is your very own mind; the one that sees without looking. The impediment to unveiling this master is a mind that is seen, not the mind that sees. The Buddha taught that our true mind can’t be seen, it can only be experienced through samādhi the awakening of our never-leaving body of truth. While difficult to explain, when awakening occurs there is no turning back. Only then we know what before was only a figment of our imaginations.

When we think of truth we imagine matters in rational terms; the product of our mind that is seen. While this distinction may appear esoteric it is central to genuine awakening—Hard to ascertain but incredibly powerful when experienced. The difference between the two was laid out by Nāgārjuna in his doctrine of two truths:

“The Buddha’s teaching of the Dharma is based on two truths: a truth of worldly convention and ultimate truth. Those who do not understand the distinction drawn between these two truths do not understand the Buddha’s profound truth. Without a foundation in the conventional truth, the significance of the ultimate cannot be taught. Without understanding the significance of the ultimate, liberation is not achieved.”

Nāgārjuna taught that “true things” exist fundamentally and can be perceived as such by the senses, while “false things” do not exist as they are perceived. The difference? Truth conceived conventionally keeps ultimate truth concealed. Things appear to our logical mind to contain an independent, self-nature, that is flawed by bias and preconceived ideas, but in his Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way (The Mūlamadhyamakakārikā), Nāgārjuna provided a logical defense that all things are empty of such a nature but are instead interdependently related. Even emptiness itself has no inherent, independent self-nature. 

Consequently, what we imagine is a fabrication. While the rational mind of relative truth is necessary to lead us to ultimate truth, so long as we do not let go and see clearly, we will forever be in bondage. It is the experience of awakening to our true nature (not the appearance) that sets us free to enjoy the fruits of the master that never leaves.

Finger pointing at the moon

Anyone even slightly familiar with Zen knows this metaphor of a finger pointing at the moon. And of course, the meaning of the metaphor is there’s a difference between a teaching and the meaning of what’s being taught. 

So what’s the teaching? To answer that question leads us to Nagarjuna and his “Two Truth Doctrine.” What he taught is the difference between two truths—the conventional and the ultimate. He said that we must, by necessity, use the finger of conventional truth to fathom the moon of ultimate truth. Conventional means are words and other communication methods and the ultimate can’t be framed because it is beyond the form of any kind. Nevertheless, without words (which are admittedly abstract reflections), there is no way of communicating about sublime truths beyond words.

The second part of his teaching (the most important part) is that while we must discern these two truths conventionally unless we experience the ultimate, we will never be free. Instead, we will remain lost in the sea of conventional abstraction yet firmly persuaded the reflection is the moon. In The Sutra of Complete Enlightenment, Ch’an Master Sheng-yen says that we must use illusion to destroy the illusion, which is just a different way of speaking about Nagarjuna’s two truths. The enlightenment of the moon is ever-present and we become aware through reflections.

The entirety of all of my posts is a mere finger pointing to a moon beyond words. They are reflections shimmering on the surface of a rippling pool of water.

Duplicity?

Our two aspects of good and evil.

All of us are, unintentionally, duplicitous. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn suggested there is good and evil in everyone, and proposed the only way to separate the two was by drawing a line—on one side would be all the good people and on the other, all of the evil. He said, in that case, the line would go down the center of us all. His specific quote was, “The battle-line between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.” 

This wisdom is without question true. There is both good and evil in everyone. 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 Dharmakāya goes by various names, all of which are meager attempts at defining our ineffable nature. An alternate handle (perhaps more familiar) is indiscriminate, unconditional non-applied consciousness: The realm of ultimate reality, and the womb of The Buddha. That is the core of us all that “…is far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind.” Here there is neither good nor evil since that realm is unconditional.

“Buddhas say emptiness is relinquishing opinions. Believers in emptiness are incurable.”—Nagarjuna

We live, however,  in a conditional world where there is plenty of judgment of good vs. evil. The root may be hidden but the branches are not, and praise and blame flourish. It is only when we awaken to this truth that we understand the difference between the two. The notion of dependent origination/relativity is the natural manifestation of emptiness (Śūnyatā: emptiness, another name for the Dharmakāya), which states that nothing contains intrinsic substance. 

Instead, reality exists in two, inseparable aspects at once. Nagarjuna labeled these aspects “conventional” and the “ultimate.” His understanding was laid out in his “Two Truth Doctrine,” where he taught the difference between the two. He said that we must, by necessity, use the conditional/conventional truth to fathom ultimate truth. 

Conventional means are words and other communication methods and the ultimate can’t be framed because it is beyond form of any kind. Nevertheless, without words (which are admittedly abstract reflections), there is no way of communicating about ultimate truths beyond words. That is what takes place every time I make a post: I speak about matters beyond words and form

The second and most important part of his teaching is that while we must discern these two truths conventionally unless we experience the ultimate, we will never be set free. Instead, we will remain lost in the sea of conventional abstraction yet firmly persuaded that there is nothing beyond “the senses and the discriminating mind.”

Having defined these two aspects there is a danger of dogmatism, which the Buddha warned against with his teaching on expedient means—upaya-Kausalya: Actions measured and dictated by unfolding and unanticipated circumstances. Here Voltaire and Nagarjuna are in agreement: 

“Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.”—Voltaire

The key to a meaningful life is to hold these two aspects of reality in balance and most importantly to act “as if” your neighbor were your Self, with kindness and empathy, most particularly when it seems difficult.

Knowing not.

Our hidden roots

Knowing not? Why not say “not knowing?” The first suggests it is possible to fathom nothing, whereas the second implies we don’t have a clue.

If I were to conjure up a list of Buddhist giants, my list would certainly include The Buddha, Nagarjuna, and Bodhidharma. The Buddha started what we know today as Buddhism, which of course is as misleading as it is to say Jesus started Christianity, or Moses starting Judaism. In the ordinary, all-encompassing fashion, these people began movements that today are fractured into many different sects, none of which can possibly represent the entirety of the main body. It’s much like a tree with roots beneath the ground emanating into a trunk with many branches above ground. Rarely do we concern ourselves with the unseen roots—only one of the branches.

Often times we learn valuable lessons by way of myths about these Buddhist giants. We can’t even say for sure if, for instance, that Bodhidharma actually existed, but the tales of his life (true or not) are extremely valuable to our ordinary lives, sometimes in unexpected ways. To most people, such tales seem arcane or meaningless just as this “knowing not” may appear at first glance.

One of the tales about Bodhidharma concerns his meeting with Emperor Wu of the Chinese Liang Dynasty during the 5th century. The emperor had built many Buddhist monuments when he met Bodhidharma and expected to receive an equal number of accolades from Bodhidharma. Instead, Bodhidharma told the emperor none of his work deserved any merit at all. Why? Because Bodhidharma was expressing a fundamental truth: All of the mortal life is fleeting. It comes and it goes. Nothing temporal has lasting value.

The emperor was quite perturbed and in a huff asked two questions of Bodhidharma and got two more unexpected answers. First, he asked, “What is the first principle of the holy teachings?” “Bodhidharma replied, ‘Vast emptiness, nothing holy.’” Then the emperor asked, “Who is standing before me?” Bodhidharma said, “I don’t know.”

“Vast emptiness, nothing holy,” and “I don’t know.” Knowing not, or not knowing? In a curious way, the answers Bodhidharma gave are the same, even though they seem very different. How so? How about we make some word substitutes and instead of using the word “emptiness” we use the word “unconditional.” Would that clarify matters? It might except for this word “vast.” And this “nothing holy” might just as well be called “nothing unholy,” since without conditions neither holy nor unholy has any meaning—emptiness/unconditional can’t be articulated just as none of us can really define our inherent true nature. 

That too is “knowing not.” Only this “not,” while being incomprehensible, can only be experienced, never articulated. What we think we know of ourselves is a shadow: an unreal mirage which we call “ego,” and an ego appears to us as what we think of ourselves. It is a perceptible fabrication that is very convincing, and being perceptible gives us a clue. To observe or perceive anything requires one who perceives, yet is in itself imperceptible, without form or any dimension conceivable. Yet it must exist or nothing could be perceived, just like a blind man, without vision, can never see anything objectively delineated.

Unfortunately, our ego is the source of all suffering. This imaginary non-being is, as Zen Master  Hakuin Ekaku said, “The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.” It is a mask that hides our true nature, which is pure, complete, joyous, and beyond suffering. In truth, all of us are in a state of knowing not and the only way to vanquish suffering is to penetrate through the mask that blinds us. How to? The answer is here.

Surrendering from absolute truth.

Wise as a serpent.

“Man speaks with forked tongue,” ordinarily means someone is deliberately saying one thing and meaning another. In the longstanding tradition of many Native American tribes, speaking with a forked tongue has meant lying. 

This, however, may not have applied in ancient India, where the serpent was often considered one of the wisest animals, being close to the divine. In Sanskrit, Naga meant snake and was perhaps an allusive reference to the entheogenic nature of Nāgārjuna, one of the most revered figures in Zen and other sects of Buddhism. He is widely considered one of the most important Buddhist philosophers after the historical Buddha.

The relevant question in this post is whether or not there is such a thing as Independent Absolute Truth, and perspectives established by Nāgārjuna can help us thoroughly consider this matter. If there is such a thing, then just maybe no human can have access to or speak the absolute truth. Lao Tzu was persuaded that the truth cannot be told (absolute or otherwise).

To start the ball rolling, let’s begin with the notion of the truth of salvation. On the surface, it seems to be true that either we need salvation or we aren’t. A key piece of Christian scripture says yes, we need saving. You find this referenced scripture in Philippians 2:12, and it says, “…continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

From the Prajnaparamita Sutra (Diamond Sutra), The Buddha allegedly said, “O Subhuti, no one is to be called a Bodhisattva, for whom there should exist the idea of a being or non-being, the idea of any form of living entity, or the idea of a person, thus there are no sentient beings to be liberated and even no being-ness who attains Anuttara Samyak Sambodhi,”—the latter meaning in Sanskrit: supreme, unexcelled, perfect and equal enlightenment. The unexcelled wisdom which comprehends truth that is attained only by a Buddha. 

From an orthodox Christian perspective, we are to believe that we need salvation, and from the Buddhist perspective, there are no beings to be saved (liberated). So what gives? And is there any way to have both of these be true? And here is where Nāgārjuna brings the solution, which, as it turns out, is a matter of relativity and dependent origination. He taught the idea of relativity; in the Ratnāvalī and gives the example that shortness exists only with length. Elsewhere he said, 

“That which is the element of light is seen to exist in relation to darkness; that which is the element of good is seen to exist on account of bad; that which is the element of space is seen to exist on account of form.” He was also instrumental in developing the two-truths doctrine, which claims that there are two levels of truth or reality in Buddhist teaching: the ultimate reality (paramārtha Satya) and the conventionally or superficial reality (saṃvṛtisatya). 

He said that neither the conventional nor the ultimate could exist alone; both came and went together: they dependently originated with each other. It is quite likely that the Apostle Paul was referring to that part of us that is unreal that must cease to exist for “…it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.” And of course, the imaginary part of us is that which moves, changes, and is the source of all woe: the idea or image of ourselves (ego). The ego has every right to fear and tremble when facing the truth of our real, unchanging Self. It is also equally likely that The Buddha was speaking from the perspective of unexcelled, perfect, and equal enlightenment. In that realm, there are no beings to save since they are already whole and unified (despite what they may think, albeit imperceptible).

Nāgārjuna would point out that both of these statements are true together. Neither is true independently. Yet only when someone awakens to their own genuine Self-nature does such a one realize that from the ultimate, unconditional perspective, salvation is unnecessary. And from the conventional, conditional perspective, there is a necessity for salvation—the ego must be removed (or integrated) before, or concomitant to, awakening to happen. There is a valid American Indian expression that goes beyond the forked tongue idiom. It is “Before walking in another man’s moccasins, you must take off your own.”

The virtual and real side of you and me.

Our two sides.

We live in a wondrous time of the merger between science and the realm beyond matter. For the most part, we attribute this merger to science, and it is true that we most welcome science-based theories that lead to the edge of the beyond. Science has become our friendly rational doorway to the ineffable. Every day, whenever I post to my blog, Google Analytics provides a tool that allows me to observe the nature of topics that attract the most interest and spread the quickest and most far-reaching throughout virtual cyberspace. What I have learned through this capability is that the idea of relativity and virtual reality has the greatest appeal. So with that in mind, my post for today deals with this matter of virtual and non-virtual reality.

Ordinarily, people don’t think that virtual reality applies to our conditional world, but the most cutting-edge science confirms that our ordinary lives are in fact virtual, and conform to the principle of relativity. Of course in our everyday realm, it messes with our head to consider that ordinary and the extraordinary is one and the same thing different only in terms of descriptions.

To define anything we must do so by comparing one thing to something different. This point was made by many wise people among them being the Buddha, who lived, by most accounts, between 563 BCE and 483 BCE, Śāntideva—the founder of the Avaivartika Sangha in the 6th century CE, and Nagarjuna who lived during the period of 150–250 CE. Even Albert Einstein who was born 14 March 1879 and died on 18 April 1955 confirmed the principle.

Three of these were mystics and of course, one was a theoretical physicist. This idea of defining, by comparison, has come to be known as relativity within the physical realm and dependent origination in the mystical realm. But words aside, they mean the same thing, which brings me to the topic for today.

If you look up the notion of virtual reality you’ll learn that it is a form of reality considered to not be real. This of course begs the question of, what is real? You can’t define one thing except in relation to the opposite of the thing. Thus we only know what “up” is by comparing it to “down.” Motion is only relevant when considered against non-motion (kinetic vs. potential energy). And virtual reality is only meaningful once you define non-virtual reality (reality itself).

The ancient understanding of reality is, that which is never born, does not die, does not move, is the same everywhere found, and doesn’t change. Anything that doesn’t comply with that understanding is considered to be virtual (or unreal). An illustration of this understanding, which everyone can grasp, is watching a telecommunication medium for transmitting and receiving moving images, with or without accompanying sound. We, of course, know this as television where we observe images changing. None of us ever thinks that these changing images are anything other than virtual, but what we fail to consider is that our entire conditional world is no different from this medium: All of it is moving, changing with a beginning and an ending. Yet nobody thinks of our conditional world as virtual. Instead, we consider it real and think of our bodily selves as real, and this misunderstanding causes undue hardship and suffering.

Another, even more, relevant example, is what can happen when we communicate with someone through virtual cyberspace of the Internet. Discussions occur, and many times people become quite upset over ideas they find disagreeable (which are completely virtual) In such a case we have a virtual being (you and me) conducting a virtual conversation and becoming agitated over virtual ideas. That is what could be called a “virtual triple whammy.” In Buddha-speak (e.g., Sanskrit) that is what is known as duḥkha: translated as suffering, anxiety, stress, or a state of mind of unsatisfactoriness.

The relevant question is, shouldn’t we be more concerned with matters that are real instead of getting stressed over matters that are virtual? That rhetorical question brings to mind the words of Jesus, who said:  “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” Matthew 7:24-27 

Upon thorough consideration, these two: The virtual and the real are glued irrevocably into One single entity. One of these (the virtual) appears clearly before us and we take it to be real, and the other (the real) is hidden within our virtual sand-being, buried under our feet and remains the unseen solid rock upon which we stand.

The chicken or the egg?

Which comes first?

A fellow seeker sent me a private message concerning the limitations of language. The person will remain incognito except to say they are from an East Indian culture and is therefore a Kalyanamitra (the Sanskrit word for spiritual friend).

To reply to their inquiry I’d like to explore the paradox of the chicken/egg. This paradox has confounded human intelligence since the first consideration. It seems obvious that one can’t come before the other but how we wonder, is it possible to solve this paradox? It is indeed a puzzle, known as a tangled hierarchy that arises when by moving in one direction we return to where we began. From a conditional perspective, there is no way to solve this puzzle since one of these (either the chicken or the egg) is contingent on the other. So long as we continue thinking in the cause and effect way, we remain in the trap of conditions. But how else can we think? So long as we are confined within the sphere of conditional reality there is no other way of thinking; one thing leads to what seems to follow but can’t.

The same sort of paradox applies to philosophy: A pathway to follow that will lead us to the assumed desired end. The issue that turns both of these upside down is the limitation of reality that is constrained purely within the bounds of conditions or said another way, within the constraints of dependencies or contingencies. And why should we accept these constraints?

The interdependent nature of conditional life points clearly to contingencies and conditional dependencies, at least that part of life that appears. But the more central issue is this business of appearances. Is it possible that appearances are likewise contingent upon non-appearances? Rational logic confirms that only at the moment of conception, both a mother and a child come into being. How is it possible for a woman to be a mother without a child? And how can a child exist without a mother? Such things are obvious but what is not obvious is the relationship between appearances and non-appearances.

If we can substitute equivalences we might make some headway in grasping this seeming conundrum. In the study of mathematics, we are taught that things that are equal, are likewise equal to other things that are equal. Thus if A=B and B=C, then A equals C as well. So let’s give this a shot: Let’s call “appearances” conditional and “non-appearances” unconditional. Now we have the material for some spiritual math. The law of dependent origination says that nothing exists independently. Instead, things arise together (and are only understood) given a contextual framework. Thus the color black can only exist and be understood given the contextual framework of non-black and this understanding helps us to solve the chicken/egg, appearance/non-appearance problem.

The Buddha, and later Nāgārjuna, correctly stated that neither essence nor non-essence exists independently. So what does this have to do with the conditional and unconditional paradox? Actually, it is not so difficult to grasp so long as we accept the rule of dependent origination because that rule says that neither conditional reality nor unconditional reality can possibly exist as independent matters. We can’t of course detect anything unconditionally, since by definition conditions rely upon other conditions to be detected.

All conditional matters are detectable and we call such matters measurable dimensions of form. But what about the opposite of form: No-form? Can any form exist without an opposite? The Buddha said no. In fact, he said that form is the same thing as Śūnyatā (emptiness). In the Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra, the  Buddha said, “Form is emptiness. Emptiness is form.” 

Now lets’ return to the equivalency arrangement. Which comes first: a pathway (philosophy) that leads to an end? Or an end that leads to a philosophy (e.g., a sort of reverse engineering)? As a side note, this is somewhat like the politician who notices where his constituency is going and rushes to the head of the line to proclaim leadership. Suppose that the end and the beginnings are one and the same thing? Suppose that at the level of unconditional reality there is no difference between a beginning and an ending?

How can there be such a difference since detectable differences require other detectable differences (or so it appears)? But appearances aside, conditional reality and unconditional reality arise together and the unconditional dimension of every sentient being lies at the heart of us all. It is that dimension that lures each and every one of us away from attachment to material matters that seem to define us. It is that very indefinable heart of wisdom and compassion that says to us all “is this material world all there is? Must I become content with this despicable reliance on competition, alienation, hostility, and greed?” 

As good as any philosophy might be, it can never touch that undetectable heart. For any philosophy to be of ultimate worth it must begin following the realization of our true, indefinable nature of perfection. Otherwise, the path will lead us back to where it all begins (yet never begins, or ends) and then we will realize there is no path to lead us to where we are already and have never moved away from. My Kalyanamitra asked a question for which there is no acceptable conditional answer and to even attempt such an answer would be disingenuous. Perhaps if they can grasp the significance of this reply, which moves the discussion beyond the realm of conditions, they will look at the question in a more enlightened way.

Complete Release— Number 2

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Yesterday this identity issue appeared to be unresolved with us trapped in a logical box. So now let’s shift gears and come at this from a different tack by turning, of all places, to the Bible and look at an insightful passage:

“For our light and momentary troubles (causes and effects at the conditional level) are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” —2 Corinthians 4:17-18

“How does the Bodhisattva-mahasattva meditate on the Void-Void? This Void-Void is where the sravakas (see ending note) and the pratyekabuddhas (see ending note) get lost. O good man! This is ‘is’ and this is ‘not-is’. This is the Void-Void.” Chapter 22—Mahaparinirvana Sutra.

When we are finally done with hope in temporal life; when we see completely that there is nothing to hold on to that doesn’t result in suffering; when we finally get it that attachment is a dead-end, rooted in a deluded sense of separate and independent identity, then we can emancipate ourselves by releasing from attachment to attachment. 

Is relinquishing opinions.

Believers in emptiness

Are incurable.”—Nagarjuna

And this from Buddhist scripture:

An is, in this context, means form as when we refer to something: We say it is a ladder. The is has defined characteristics. The not-is has no defining characteristic, which makes it emptiness or in other words the Void. 

The Void is the Wall—Essence: the unconditional nature of us all. One side of reality against which the ladder, (e.g., the other side) rests. Emptiness and form are the divine partnership, which frames reality. The Void is, as the apostle Paul says in 2 Corinthians, unseen. So what does that make the Void-Void? The answer to this question is what makes Zen, Zen and to answer the question we turn to the 14th Patriarch of Buddhism—Nagarjuna.

He really knit this together as well as anyone ever has. His expositions on emptiness are sublime. What he leads us all to see is that if emptiness has any validity then it must measure up to emptiness itself. Empty-Emptiness; the Void-Void. Let’s examine this carefully and see where it goes. First, appreciate Nagarjuna’s interest and focus. He was not interested in meaningless philosophy and speculation. He wanted to rip apart speculation and arrive at the residue of truth. He wasn’t trying to create a new dimension of faith. He was working with the raw material spoken by the Buddha, and his focus was the dimensions of reality, which sat on a three-legged stool. The legs were:

1. Emptiness/essence/The Void (sometimes referred to as  Śūnyatā)—our unconditional Self

2. Form/matter/temporal life (in Sanskrit “Rupa”)—Our apparent self

3. Dependent origination

These three integrated measures of reality define what is known in Buddhism as the Middle Way. Here’s how these three fit together. Form must emerge from somewhere. That somewhere is the ‘is’ of ‘is.’ ‘Is’ equals otherness with defined characteristics, which makes it limited in time, space, and causality. ‘Is’ therefore is not the somewhere, otherwise, it would define itself, like a car with no driver. 

The somewhere must not be limited. It must have no properties yet all properties at the same time, therefore the somewhere is the indefinable, transcendent essence, which, as Paul states, is unseen—the Tathagatagarbha (Buddha-womb). These two—form and emptiness—come into existence simultaneously. One can’t precede the other for the same reason that a thinker can’t precede thinking. 

Creation by definition implies a creator just like a thinker implies thinking. This simultaneous arising is what is known as dependent origination. But that dependent origination as stated earlier seems to occur in the imaginary box, which looks like an unsolvable problem.

So let’s take the next step and see how we can resolve it. What is the pinnacle of surrendering? Surrendering from surrendering. What does that mean? It means the logical ground of faith. Surrendering is an action; a motion and form is the instrument of motion, but not the prime mover of the motion. Something must propel the motion of surrendering. It doesn’t occur by itself just as a car requires a driver. Mind essence is the indefinable, unseen Void-Void which propels motion. 

But this mind essence is not mind as we normally think of, as a product of our limited and independent brain. This is the primal mover of all motion. This mind moves flags, the wind, and us. It is the is of “is”.  When Nagarjuna postulates empty-emptiness, the Void is transformed back into form in a never-ending feedback loop, which can’t be separated.

This inseparable feedback loop of form/emptiness is this very special mind essence (our true nature) not emptiness or form but both. If it were one or the other we would still be non-integrated and dual, regardless of logic. 

The Buddha created a completely new paradigm, which brought speculation about self/SELF (anatman/atman) to an end, thus resolving the identity issue. If only emptiness/essence (atman) this would be like a ghost. If only form/flesh (self) this would be the non-walking dead—“Just like a plant or stone”. 

The combined union of emptiness-form provides all that is needed for the existence of life. It has the driver (essence) and the car (form) and the combination—not one or the other—makes the motion of surrendering possible. Neither alone would suffice. The two become one, but the One is two interdependent aspects of the same thing—the Ladder with a Wall. That being the case, dependent origination remains intact but no longer in a box constrained by mundane logic. This union has a name called mind essence. The technical term is the sambhogakaya—one of three aspects of a Buddha.

Attaching to anything, including attachment, creates misery. It is quite possible to become dogmatically undogmatic and cling to a fixed position of being uniquely undogmatic, but that would still leave us attached, resulting in the sort of dilemma we see today with people getting locked into unswerving ideologies and unable to compromise. 

Letting go of everything creates emancipation thus enabling us to conform to actions demanded by evolving circumstances.  When we see that, then we no longer fix our eyes on what is seen but rather fix our eyes what is unseen. What Paul asked of Christian believers to do as an act of blind faith, The Buddha and Nagarjuna reasoned as a logically discerned premise. 

There is a logical foundation for faith, which arose 500 years before Jesus walked the earth, and it came from Gautama Buddha, later to be refined by Nagarjuna sometime during the 2nd century CE, about a hundred years after the apostle Paul died during the 1st century CE. 

The problem is fairly simple to solve once we let go of the fixed limitations of conceptual, mundane logic, by escaping from this box of rational logic and accessing intuitive, supra-mundane logic. When the Heart Sutra says that emptiness is form and form is emptiness we need to look carefully at these words as an equation: as mirror images. The union can’t be broken.

Complete release means surrendering from faith in this material existence and placing our faith completely in the unseen union of mind essence: the Void-Void. From that point on, wisdom shifts from the mundane to spiritual origins and becomes Prajnaparamita—Perfect Wisdom—we enter the realm of Nirvana: “The ‘Dharmata’ (True Essence) of all Buddhas” and then see reality, as it is without discrimination. That is the ultimate wisdom. Complete release means the total absence of delusions, which thus allows the shining jewel of prajna to burst forth.

“Buddhas say emptiness

The problem with the conventional understanding of Paul’s statement is that it keeps God at bay; as a separate reality—in the bye-and-bye, not accessible in the here and now. What the Buddha brought to this discussion is integration. God/Buddha-Nature is both in the bye-and-bye and in the here and now. 

Buddha-Nature can’t be divided and neither can we since we are fundamentally Buddhas. The curious thing about Paul’s statement is not what he said but how it is usually understood. The conventional wisdom of his day—that God lived in heaven in the sky (where the Pie resides)—was used to interpret what he said. If you read his statement carefully you will not find a separate God.

And contrary to the Christian notion that we are separated from God, The Buddha saw this separation as impossible! We could quibble about the difference between God and mind essence and miss the point, which is that every moment within every sphere of existence, our beingness is the inseparable union of the seen (which dies) and the unseen (which lives forever). The true you and the true me is indiscriminate and exactly the same. It has no definable properties yet infuses all properties. Unless this is true then we are all like immovable stones.

This post concludes this series on surrender but more needs to be said about this matter of essence—the true you and me. Without a solid grasp of essence this entire matter floats about in the air with very little practical understanding and nothing is more practical than grasping our true nature.

Note: A sravakas is a disciple and a pratyekabuddhas is a lone Buddha; said to achieve enlightenment on their own, without the use of teachers or guides, by contemplating the principle of dependent arising.