Always on.

Everywhere and Nowhere

The Internet is an amazing technology linking the minds of anyone on earth who has the means to tap into this virtual world. It is always on, located nowhere, but is everywhere at once.

Most unexpectedly, our true nature is like the Internet—always-on, nowhere to be found but everywhere at once, connecting us to a virtual world. That analogy is easy to write, but chances are not readily understood. Who we are truly is an unconditional, indiscriminate, connected-to-everything, spiritual being (e.g., pure, non-applied consciousness). In truth, we have unified with one another already, but this unity can’t be detected or understood. Through this undetectable reality, we touch a world, which is, in fact, only accessible virtually. The bodies we inhabit are so constructed that we connect with this world consciously, mediated through our senses. What we sense as real are actually sensory projections occurring in our brains, and this projection is so excellent and convincing we are fooled into taking this projection as reality.

Here is how the Shurangama Sutra speaks about this conundrum: “...All things in all worlds are the wondrous, fundamental, enlightened, luminous mind that understands, and that this mind, pure, all-pervading, and perfect, contains the entire universe...it is everlasting and does not perish.”  

Yet while this luminous mind understands it can’t be understood without falling into the trap of ignorance. As soon as we attempt to understand conceptually, it is unavoidable that this understanding is joined with the illusion of an independent self—the one we imagine is doing the understanding. Such “understood enlightenment” is not true enlightenment. 

Fundamental ignorance is that state of unknowing which arises when we attempt to categorically encapsulate and divide what is essential, whole, and complete already. It is a primary motive, in our deluded state of mind of conditions to understand. and our means of attempting this understanding is to compare one thing against another. 

We see another and ourselves, notice a physical difference, and conclude a separate individual. But what we conclude is a virtual projection; not reality.  Reality can’t be divided, except conceptually, and this leads to the deluded notion of duality, which then expands with the notion that we are set apart from others and our world. If everything is the all-pervading and perfect luminous mind there can’t be a comparison. It would be like comparing one white to another white.

We move, we function, we live and die, but we will never fully understand how any of that happens conceptually. Enlightenment is an accepted, always-on experience that is realized when we stop trying and just rest in our true beingness.

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.

Thoughts on Self Nature.

Over the years, having read, studied, and experienced the voice of enlightened people and considering my own, I have attempted to capture, with words, the essential nature of humanity and the opposite: Our corrupted nature. 

The latter has produced an eternity of evil and destruction globally, while the former has countered evil with goodness. I have personally experienced the transformation of self-destructive thoughts, words, and deeds into genuine benevolence. I have likewise witnessed the attempt to feign piety that clearly stood as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. People of the world seem to know that transparent evil is undesirable, and consequently, they try to conceal the heart of darkness with a camouflage of pretended allure. 

This effort, like the opposite of transparency, is affirmed by those who, similarly, play the same game. The pretenders flock together, as do those who choose to reveal a purity of heart, having nothing to hide. These two forces oppose one another and speak a different language.

But God would not allow me such relief, but instead brought back to me the more excellent relief of that magnificent young lady in the dawning of adulthood. It was then I found my true nature of completion and realized, contrary to what I had come to believe, that I was the essence of internal love that she alone had seen in me a half-century before. It was unquestionably a miracle and so clearly the act of a loving God that it was unavoidable to not see what had been there all along, but lay hidden beneath that sense of self-hatred. “Then I knew fully, even as I am fully known,” and at last, I came to understand the mature language of the heart that joined my heart with hers around the core of a unified, indwelling presence of God.

It has been my experience that the language of love, compassion, and tenderness is impossible to articulate with words. In contrast, the language of pretense and deception comes in convincing forms more difficult to detect, except to those who, by nature, have passed beyond words and found their true self-nature. To the former, the task is one of mime. To the latter, the charge comes naturally. The communication challenge for humanity is to find a way to bridge that gap to inspire the minds of those still lost, to a higher standard beyond these surrogates of truth, much like a teacher with advanced education and knowledge must employ with children, not yet schooled. 

Having once been an unschooled child, a teacher knows both the language of a child and the language of the heart. The opposite is not valid. It is as the Apostle Paul stated in the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians, 

“…where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” 

Paul’s words, in essence,  are the same as the words of Meister Eckhart, the German theologian and philosopher who lived during the 15th century: “The eye with which I see God is the same eye with which God sees me.”

While still a child having little maturity and life experience, lost to the voice of others, I defined myself as incomplete and worthless according to the opinions of those who appeared to hate me, for reasons I failed to understand. The result was I conformed to unworthiness and attempted the impossible of persuading both myself and those who’s voice I valued, that I was worthy of their affection and love. In essence, I did not love myself because I placed more value or their opinions than on my inherent completeness.

It took many years for this self-deception to fully ripen into the unnatural result of pure self-hatred, so thorough that I found no reason to continue living. The only contradiction to this perceived sense of self-hate was the pure, unselfish love that poured out of a magnificent young lady in the dawning of adult life. And that love, where our hearts beat as one, was lost to my own naïve and innocent error, thus driving the stake of self-hatred and associated guilt even deeper. 

The ensuing suffering I then experienced continued up the birth of my daughter, who seemed to come as a gift from God to show me through experience how to recapture selfless love again. For 20 years she, and I grew together within the realm of unconditional love, and when she was gone, I returned once again to the hell of self-hatred left with the whisper of the lost love of both my first love and my daughter. Again, I found no reason to continue living, sought the ultimate release, and readied myself for bodily death.

At long last, I understand the meaning of selfless love. It does not mean to sacrifice and give up what is of value. It means instead to lose the sense of an artificial and perverted self, shaped by the opinions of others and affirmed by my desire to be loved, to cast off the unreal that hid the real. By losing the artificial, I found the truth. And this true self-nature is united as a single purity of heart, not only with my first love and my daughter but with the breadth of humanity. 

True love needs no interpretation or indirect translation thru the medium of words. It is pure, recognizable, and when my eyes finally opened, I knew what I had previously known only in part. Then, at last, I experienced what Eckhart had said, “The eye with which God sees me is the same eye by which I see God.” Or, as the native Indians have said, “Before we can truly understand another person, we must walk a mile in their moccasins. Before we can walk in another person’s moccasins, we must first take off our own.” 

The old self-hatred had to fall away before I could see the new Self-love, and when it did, I came to know that the ideas I had previously held of myself as a false self, alienated from others, unveiled a true Self that united with God and the world. 

Thus selfless love is a love that loses the artificial and is replaced with the real. Selfless love is Self-full love that echoes, in a circular fashion from one heart to another. What goes forth comes from within. Which in itself is already joined with a passion that indwells the heart of another. And when that happens, there is no separation between your true self and the true self of another. That, to me, is the definition of genuine compassion: to experience the love and agony of your beloved, and they of you. You become echoes of each other, and your hearts beat as one.

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.

The Wall—Emptiness

Image via Wikipedia

The enlightenment of The Buddha introduced an entirely new vantage-point to the human experience. 

In summary, his grasp of reality addressed two, apparently different views which he said were the same thing looked at from alternate perspectives. Those two dimensions were the conditional and the unconditional realms of form and emptiness, which according to him arose dependent upon each other. 

Today and tomorrow we’ll consider these two, metaphorically through a model of a wall and a ladder that leans against that wall. The metaphor came in a dream following a day of contemplating the various understandings of the word dharma. 

I discovered in my research that dharma was derived from the Sanskrit root dhṛ, which means to support or hold, and often referred to cosmic law. In my dream, I saw a ladder leaning against and supported by a blank wall.

The story is told that Bodhidharma sat in meditation staring at a blank wall for nine years. What did he see? Let’s take a walk into a realm almost too strange to imagine. In fact, it is only possible to enter this realm through the imagination. It is the realm of a transcendent wall, which strips conceptuality down to the ground of all being. Think essence—pure essence, infinite essence, 100% essence, without any otherness. Such a realm is impossible to imagine because to imagine it requires separation and otherness: an imaginer as well as what is being imagined, and such essence is transcendent to all divisions. It is a realm where subjects and objects melt into one another. It is non-dual in any and every way. 

Form requires dimensions of at least the aggregation of time, space, and circumstances. Not the imagination. Essence is the sentient eye seeing itself beyond all time, space, and circumstance. This essence is what Eckhart said was, “The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love.” 

Form content needs context within which to exist but essence is both content and context at the same time, which is a contradiction already. Essence is entirely “+” and “-” fusion and such a thing cannot exist except in the imagination, or so it seems to conventional wisdom.

What would such a realm approximate? The closest thing imaginable would be a black hole, which instead of sucking in otherness, sucks in itself (symbolically an Ouroboros—expressing the unity of all things). An infinitely large (or infinitely small: size is a contradiction) sucking machine without motion or any defining characteristics. Why? Because this is the primordial seed essence before mother and child. Form mother and children come next. “Large” is a defining characteristic. “Small” is a defining characteristic. “Motion” is movement from one space/time circumstance to another and this requires otherness which in the case of essence is so profound it cannot exist.

Defined thusly, in a dream, essence is transcendent to both life and death. It is beyond time, space, and circumstances. Such a condition is non-conditional, non-contingent, and non-everything. In fact, it is transcendent even to that prior statement since “non” is otherness and pure essence is non-non and is indefinable. It is wholly beyond; even beyond imagination and logic and every other frame of reference, which requires discernment. This would be 100% potential energy without even a glimmer of kinetic energy. Conceptually it is impossible to imagine. All concepts fail to capture essence. 

I think this way of envisioning essence is a fairly accurate description of something that is 100% ready: neither alive nor dead but ready for either, neither or both, only this is transcendent to all such defining characteristics which imply life or death. Readiness is unborn and never dies. This would be an independent, wholly essential, unconditional non-thing with no other purpose except existence itself. This is a Self with no other. It would be the womb of creation without a child, forever and ever: another with no otherness, yet transcendent to such distinctions. It would be completely empty of everything, yet completely full at the same time. It would be everything and nothing at once. It would be completely meaningless and completely meaningful—The Big Bang before either bang or big—pure singularity of the essential kind.

Is this what Bodhidharma saw? We’ll never know but countless Zen Masters have spoken about this ineffability using names like Mind Essence, Ground of Being, Original Face, and Purity. Some have called it Buddha—the Dharmakaya. Others have used the word, God. The founder of the Rinzai Zen (Lin Chi) used the idiom, “True Man of no rank” because, within this ineffable sphere, there is no discrimination and discrimination is conditional, only possible when otherness is present. 

Bodhidharma simply called it “The Void” or the primordial mind and what he was experiencing for nine years was a view of his own mind. Names are mere handles to represent what can’t be, and never will be, adequate to describe what is utterly transcendent. Exodus 20:4 speaks clearly about the admonition of God: “You are not to make an image or picture of anything in heaven or on the earth or in the waters under the earth.” 

And the understanding of this admonition is clear: any and every word or handle harkens a conceptual image engraved in the mind: a shadow—a surrogate, of the energy which inhabits and moves all of life. Essence is things exactly as they are, sans any and all defining characteristics. This is suchness. The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth. “Those who know don’t talk. Those who talk don’t know.” — Stanza 56, The Tao Te Ching.

Discrimination or not? That is the question.

On the outside looking in.

To discriminate means what it says: to divide one thing from another. It begins with perception. We can see one thing only against a backdrop of difference. Orange and blue appear to the eye as two different things. What’s the opposite? No discrimination, where everything is the same.

The fundamental teaching of the entire New Testament can be summed up in one statement: non-discrimination, otherwise known as agape love (unconditional love). And the same thing is right for Buddhism. The names are different, but the principle is the same. Here the term used is compassion (ancient Indians didn’t know Greek), which actually means merging with another to the point where there is no longer you and me. There is just us.

Sadly many regard themselves as solid Judeo-Christians who have deluded themselves with the notion that they can practice hatred, discrimination, and bigotry as substitutes for love. But in fairness, many in every religion forget about the essence of their faith-expressions yet can quote chapter and verse to justify their disdain for their fellow humans.

Think about how magnificent life would be if we actually practiced love instead of hate. Then instead of attacking each other, we would exist in harmony. Now that would be revolutionary. 

Shantideva said this:

“All the suffering in the world comes from seeking pleasure for oneself.  All the happiness in the world comes from seeking pleasure for others.”

That is only possible when there is no difference between oneself and others, which is, of course, what Jesus meant when he said,

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” Easy to say and so hard to do.

Spirit and me.

The notion that our spiritual lives are separate from our biological lives is a bit strange. Even if you don’t believe there is a spiritual world, I’ve never met anyone who argued that they didn’t have a spirit. The means of experiencing anything, spiritual or otherwise, is based in biology. 

On the other hand, you may accept that there is a spiritual reality but think that we are separated somehow from that spiritual dimension. For the spirit to be experienced, our biology is the avenue of communication since that is our means of experience. 

I personally know there is no such separation. Instead, I am persuaded of what the Dharma (and Christianity) teaches that our wholeness is the undividable conjunction of spirit and matter: that I can only exist as that partnership. If this is not so, then what part of me is compelling movement? An object can’t move. A stone just sits there and doesn’t move. We however do move and without a spiritual consciousness, we would be no better than a stone.

The point of contact, regardless of how the spirit is understood, is biological. However, and whatever we have, any experience is through a biological pathway impacting our bodies (a fantastic organism involving a multitude of biochemicals, hormones, neurotransmitters, and electricity). When we experience fear, our biochemical makeup is altered in one direction. When we experience joy, it’s changed in another order. Anger, another, and so on. The altering of our biochemical makeup affects even enlightenment, and all of these biochemical changes affect our thinking and responses to life.

The ingestion of drugs likewise alters our biochemistry and our sense of reality. What seems real given one biochemical arrangement is wholly altered when drugs are introduced. What seems familiar in a non-drug induced state is completely changed when drugs are used. And this is also true when enlightenment is experienced. What looks divided and alienated in our usual every-day way, before enlightenment, is seen as unified and compassionate after enlightenment. Our world and our self-understanding are subsequently turned upside down.

I don’t advise doing drugs because they can be addictive and ruin your life. On the other hand, there are situations where drugs are beneficial. But I do recommend the worldview and the self-understanding that arises with both certain drugs and enlightenment. One can destroy your life. The other can save your life. Besides, the latter is free of charge, and the former can bankrupt you. One can set you free, and the other can send you to jail. People die all of the time from a drug overdose, and nobody has ever died due to enlightenment.

Seeing you Seeing me.

The amount of energy and consideration which routinely goes into the notion of personal identity is huge. It’s taken as a given that we know ourselves but even though the matter is of paramount importance it is questionable that anyone really “knows” themself. And if nobody knows themself how is it possible to truly know someone else?

When we meet someone for the first time, we want to know something about them and they want to know something about us. So we say, “Tell me something about yourself.” And then they begin to tell their stories—Name, job, interests, family, etc. And then we tell our story. The question—the only relevant question is: Are we nothing more than a name or a job or any of the other characteristics we share? Names can change. Jobs come and go. Interests shift over time and sadly families die just like we do. All of these objective measures are in a constant state of change. Objects are impermanent. They are like a suit of clothing that gets put on and taken off. Do we in fact have a permanent identity? Something upon which we hang those objective, impermanent clothes?

It isn’t something we think about very much but perhaps we should because if we did we might discover an essential truth which explains the cause of much suffering. There is a beauty that comes with getting old and I’m not talking about impermanent clothes; not even my objective body which is not what would be called “beautiful.” That part of me would be called decrepit but that is Okay because it is not who I am.

A long time ago I studied grammar and learned about such things as subjects and objects. I don’t remember much beyond that but just knowing the difference between a subject and an object is very helpful in nailing down this matter of identity. As I’ve aged I’ve noticed what changes and what hasn’t. Everything has changed except one thing: Me—The subjective me; the me who sees the changes, hears, smells, tastes, touches, and thinks. So I like everyone else who has ever lived identifies with that subjective me—the one inside my changing, objective skin. There is just one little problem with that view: When I objectify my subjective me, and by that I mean when I imagine that me inside and convert it from a subject into an object called an ego or a self-image. When that conversion takes place that too then undergoes change and becomes subject to suffering.

Here is the truth: A subject can’t be seen. Only objects can be seen. We want to be true to ourselves and to others but it is very difficult to be true to what can’t be known, objectively and that applies to ourselves also. So to meet that mental challenge we create an objective surrogate which we then take to be who we are. If you want to conquer suffering you’ll take the time to understand this piece of mental sleight-of-hand. WE SUFFER BECAUSE WE BOTH “REIFY” OBJECTS AND OBJECTIFY WHAT IS REAL. I write these words in capitals because suffering boils down to that. It is just that simple. So what does this word “reify” mean? It means to imagine life where there is none. And of course, to objectify something means to mentally convert life into a stone.

The Buddhist definition of reality is most exact. Accordingly, reality is understood as something which has substantial, intrinsic, independent status and the opposite is true as well. Something is unreal which does not subscribe to that understanding. Therefore “subjects” are considered real and objects are not. An object (any and every object) is dependent and has no intrinsic substance yet we can see objects. So here is where this understanding solves the suffering problem: If you can see (or perceive in any way) something, know that it is unreal and has no power to harm the real subjective you. That true you is beyond harm or suffering since it is eternal and hasn’t changed a whit during your entire life. Yes of course our bodies (the objective us) experience pain, but suffering is not pain. Pain is unavoidable but suffering is a spiritual/mental issue. If we can hold that understanding as our reality then when we see thoughts and feel emotions percolating up from our memories we can see them as objective residue rather than reality.

The essential matter is not who we are subjectively but rather who we aren’t objectively. When we confuse this identity issue not only do we not know ourselves but we mistake our real nature for an objective ghost.

Two Realms—One Reality

A prominent scientist and a girl on the edge of becoming a woman seem to have little in common. I know them both intimately and thus see the common ground even though they may not. 

Both are highly intelligent, both creative, both kind, and a pleasure to be with. One is a senior citizen, the other still a teen. Their worlds and concerns are years apart, yet they seek the same thing: Rules and guidance systems to plot a future path. Their chosen paths are very different, but their approach is the same. 

In our phenomenal world, it’s an expedient matter to measure conduct against adopted standards. It keeps us on track and out of the weeds, at least most of the time. Conditional society couldn’t function very well without agreed-to standards that define acceptable behavior and help us chart the road ahead. The problem is that such standards only work when everyone embraces the same standards, but standards that suit one person don’t suit another, which is why we have conflict—No universal agreement. 

One of the central teachings of Buddhism is “Dependent Origination.” The teaching is not difficult to understand, but it seems difficult to fully embrace. The premise is this: All things exist in balance with the opposite. For example, “down” requires “up;” light requires darkness; phenomena require noumena (infinite other examples). These opposites are dependent and arise and cease together. There would be no such thing as a down without an up, which is why the teaching is called what it is—things depending on opposites to originate and cease together. 

Simple to grasp but not so simple when it comes to adopting needed standards. And why is that? Because a standard used to measure light wouldn’t work so well when there isn’t any light. And this observation becomes even more critical when it comes to the edge separating opposites, which is to say, “How do you establish rules and standards on the edge dividing the opposites?” Where neither is there, yet both are there. 

This sounds like an impractical consideration but stay with me. My scientist friend is a brilliant physicist pushing the limits beyond normally acceptable boundaries (into the metaphysical realm). The young lady is likewise exploring the limits beyond normally acceptable boundaries of ethics. She is searching for some spiritual rules and guidance. Both go into the same realm and try to use proven yardsticks from the phenomenal realm applied in the noumenal realm without realizing that the rules must change when you cross that boundary line. What we become accustomed to—perceptible objectivity, becomes worthless when operating in an imperceptible realm. It is like trying to find a new set of glasses which will allow you to see air. 

We commonly make two errors in conducting our phenomenal affairs, and these two haven’t changed since the time of The Buddha. The errors are that we perceive objects as either fixed and lasting or fluid and decaying. In one sense, we conclude with permanence and in the other nihilism. This conundrum is exactly the same as what confronted people in The Buddha’s time, and what he realized upon his enlightenment is that both are true, and neither is true (as separate matters). 

His enlightened resolution came to be known as The Middle Way. But how does that make sense? How can something (anything) be both true and not true at the same time? For that to work, it is necessary to acknowledge this dilemma, which my two friends are wrestling with—The opposites of phenomena and noumena and being willing to stand with one foot in each of those two camps. The Sutra of Complete Enlightenment (Address by the Bodhisattva of Pure Wisdom) said 

“...the intrinsic nature of Complete Enlightenment is devoid of distinct natures, yet all different natures are endowed with this nature, which can accord and give rise to various natures.” 

Elsewhere, it says that enlightenment is not something that comes and goes; it is ever-present. This, too, seems like an irrational statement. It is a perfectly logical question to ask, “If enlightenment is ever-present, then how is it I don’t experience it?” Perhaps the answer to that question is that we are trying to see air with a new set of glasses. Air can’t be seen with any glasses, and “Complete Enlightenment is devoid of distinct natures...” If enlightenment has no defining nature, then it doesn’t matter how sharp our vision—It can’t be seen. 

Yet the Sutra goes on to say that “all different natures are endowed with this nature, which can accord and give rise to various natures.” So what is the pearl of wisdom here? Perhaps the pearl is to stop expecting the impossible and accept that the task is not to invent another set of tools but rather live by the Spirit’s constant infusion. Buddhists might choose to call Spirit “Buddha-Nature.” Christians might choose to call it “The Holy Spirit,” but a name is just a handle. Some people prefer one handle, others prefer another handle, but noumenal truth has no handle or nature. 

We are not comfortable in “flying blind,” but isn’t that the definition of expedient means—Doing what is needed, one moment at a time, as phenomenal life flows and changes? How useful is it to use fixed standards when all of life is shifting and changing? The rules that worked yesterday are yesterday’s rules, and tomorrow’s rules will only work when unknown conditions arise. Circumstances change, and when they do, we need to measure the moment and act appropriately. This flexible way requires only one leap of faith—That enlightenment is a constant reality, and it has no nature.