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.

Complete Release— Number 1

The first of the Four Noble Truths acknowledges that during every person’s life, they will experience suffering. While this may seem like a negative assessment, it is honest and realistic, neither negative nor positive. By studying the dharma, we come to understand that there is a causal link between suffering and attaching to mortal life. We also learn that by breaking this attachment, suffering is undone, and life is transformed.

The problem is that attachment, of all forms, has another causal link to identity. By misunderstanding who we are, we set off a cascading chain reaction involving ignorance, greed, and anger. When we see ourselves as independent and separate beings, we create further delusions, which reinforces even more. 

The ego is imaginary and fabricated through our thoughts. These thoughts further imagine an imaginer, which only has value and worth by attaching to fleeting life, like a leach sucking blood to survive. Whatever we choose to identify with becomes our basis of joy and sorrow. 

We may imagine that our worth depends upon other temporal entities: another person, a job, status, wealth, or anything conceivable, but nothing of a phenomena nature lasts or conforms to how we wish it to be. We may have once loved a person deeply, but they, and we, temporally change into someone we no longer love, and nobody lives forever. 

When change or death comes, we experience sorrow. But this base delusion (and the presumption of attachment which flows from it) produces greed and possessiveness. Since mortal life is ever-changing, loss inevitably occurs, which then activates anger, creating lousy karma and endless cycles of samsara—greed, anger, and ignorance—all cascading from misidentifying.

This dilemma is nothing new. People have forever wrestled with the same issue before the Buddha and ever since. This is and has been, the battle of two opposing Titans—one the ego (the illusion of identity) vs. the seeming champion, the true SELF. 

Until The Buddha, the SELF appeared to be winning the contest. But this victory turned out to be possible only by the ego committing suicide, which it is extraordinarily reluctant to do. Additionally, any sort of identity (e.g., self or SELF) must have defining properties. So, where is the transforming power to be found?

I began this series on surrender concerning complete release, which I said would be reserved for a later discussion. The time has come, and I want to start the ball rolling with a reflection on thinking. When we think, by definition (defined by dependent origination), we are the thinker. Thinking and a thinker are directly linked. It would be nonsensical to say that thinking comes from nowhere. Thinking and thinkers arise as a single entity, just like a mother is only a mother with a child. These are interdependent entities. One can’t exist without the other.

When there is no thinking, no thinker exists. But when we don’t think we don’t just disappear. Therefore we are not the thinker; otherwise, we would disappear when thinking ceases. It is clear that we/what are independent of both thought and the thinker, which seems to defy the premise of dependent origination. 

Interdependent existence, you’ll recall from an earlier post, are the two legs of a Ladder—the two discriminate aspects of form, one part defining the other (good/bad, in/out, etc.). When we imagine ourselves, there is an image of a self (or SELF), which, when we see clearly, is just a thought. This thought (or idea) is linked to an imaginary self, which we refer to as the thinker who thinks thoughts, but this can’t be true. 

If it were true, then we would disappear when we stop thinking. Logic cancels this connection. So if this imaginary self is the product of thinking, who (or what) is the independent being who jump-starts (originates) the thinking process? A car doesn’t move without a driver (at least not yet). Who’s the driver? 

The answer, as strange as it may seem, takes us to the Wall— Essence. The Heart Sutra says that form is emptiness; emptiness is form. These are the two legs of life that are irrevocably joined together. Two-legged ladders must lean against a wall or fall down. The metaphor works perfectly. It would logically follow that if we are not the imaginary self, then we must be the opposite: the non-imaginary self, which has been known since before the time of The Buddha as the independent who that we indeed are. The independent who thus seems to be essence—the true SELF (with no identifying properties). But don’t jump there quite yet.

Read the following quote carefully from Bodhidharma, the acknowledged father of Zen. He said this about motion: 

“The Buddha is your real body, your original mind. This mind is not outside the material body of four elements. Without this mind we can’t move. The body (by itself) has no awareness. Like a plant or stone, the body has no nature. So how does it move? It’s the mind that moves.” 

Huineng, the sixth patriarch of Ch’an, reached the exact same conclusion upon hearing the Diamond Sutra recited and realized enlightenment. I encourage you to take the time to read, carefully, this text. And when you do, please observe this: “...when a bodhisattva gives rise to the unequaled mind of awakening, he has to give up all ideas.”  

There is an extremely subtle twist to Huineng’s enlightenment that may not register unless we slam on the brakes and reflect. One day Huineng heard two monks arguing about the movement of a flag. One said the wind moved the flag. The other said that the flag moved independently of the wind. Huineng said to the monks that neither the wind nor the flag was moving. Instead, it was the mind that moved. Was Huineng saying that the flag was being controlled by some extraterrestrial force, or that he projected his mind psychically to wave the flag? Hold the question.

In the Mahaparinirvana Sutra — Chapter Five, the Buddha says (when referring to his Adamantine Body, which means having the hardness of a diamond—unchanging), “It is neither action nor fruition (e.g., cause and effect). It is not one made, not one that dies. It is ‘no-mind;’ It is one not countable; It is the All-Wonderful, the One Eternal, and the one not presumable. It is not consciousness and is apart from the mind (e.g., transcendent to both). And yet it does not depart from the mind. It is a mind that is all-equal. It is not an ‘is,’ yet it is what is ‘is.’ There is no going and no coming, and yet it goes and comes.”

Elsewhere in this Sutra, the Buddha spoke of the non-self as the imaginary self, otherwise known as an ego. This non-self is interdependent and is linked to thought, which is vaporous: a mirage, which seems very real. That part fits perfectly within the box of dependent origination. Within this box, the non-self imagines itself using the tool of imagination, which further reinforces the artificial sense of reality. It is the Matrix, which I spoke about earlier. However, this does not explain Bodhidharma’s mind or our question, who’s driving the car? 

What animates our being? Does our being animate itself, like a flag waving in the wind? Bodhidharma says no. Our being, without mind essence, is just like a plant or stone. That would be like a car, which drives itself without a driver.

So with that pregnant issue hanging in mid-air, we’ll take a break here and pick up tomorrow with concluding remarks.

In the readiness of time.

Nobody wins.

Throughout life, I’ve been bothered when someone would tell me to go here or do that without giving me any clue of how. 

I was sometimes amazed by their advice but disturbed when left to figure out how by myself. “Just say no” didn’t cut it for me. I’m a pragmatist and not afraid to say when I need help. Perhaps it’s expecting too much to suggest that others might benefit as well if only they also would lose the macho attitude of I can do this by myself without help from anyone else and ask for assistance concerning the how-to. But alas, having your ego deflated is not a popular activity!

For some days now, I have continued down a path of saying that while suffering is what everyone wishes to avoid, there is much of value about suffering that results in transforming our attitudes, how we experience our true self, and the probable impact on the world. But until now, I have left out the how-to. The time for completing this journey is now, and today I want to pave the way with a few preliminary comments.

First is what Winston Churchill (among many others) said: “People will only change when they have suffered enough.” Until then, as previously pointed out, we are not encouraged to go through the necessary rigors to change positively. Often times during one of my classes, a student would say, “I don’t suffer, so why would I choose to alter my satisfying lifestyle to go through these rigors.” In essence, they echoed the observation expressed by Chan Master Sheng Yen: “...nobody having good dreams wants to wake up. Only when they have nightmares are we eager to do so.” 

Motivation is fundamental, and rare are those who can look down the road and see where it leads. One day our body will die. One day we will all experience illness. One day we will lose a loved one or a career that sustains our families and us. All of us suffer. One day the unavoidable comes to our door.  

Over a year ago, I wrote a post called The Four Horses of Zen that reflected on this problem, as expressed by the Buddha in the Samyutta Agama Sutra. He told a parable of four horses to illustrate different sorts of people. There is an excellent one, a couple of lesser horses, and a bad one. He said the best horse runs before it sees the shadow of the whip.  The second best will run just before the whip reaches his skin. The third one will run when it feels pain on his body, and the bad one will run after the pain penetrates into the marrow of his bones. Unfortunately, I was a bad one and endured much pain before changing.

For some curious reason, the words of Winston Churchill seem to be popping up recently. He commented on our stubbornness and said of us, “You can always count on Americans to do the right thing—after they’ve tried everything else.” That was me. After everything else failed, I was ready to become a student, and only then did the teacher appear. When our methods of self-service continue to lead us to suffer over and over again, it becomes clear that egotism fails. Then our moment of truth finally invites us into the realm of unity.

So much for preliminary comments. Tomorrow I’ll suggest the how-to prescribed by many enlightened beings that worked for me and more than likely will work for you too.

Every suffering, a seed of awareness.

We have a saying, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” That everyday wisdom governs most of life. We pursue our paths to what we believe will produce fulfillment and pleasure, and often times this plan works until it stops working. And then we adopt a variation on this pursuit. 

What fulfills us: money, prestige, political power, fame, or other human relationships? There are different strokes for different folks. The problem is that there are no strokes that last forever. Every phenomenal thing is in motion and when the source of our pleasure turns South, so too does our sense of self-worth and happiness. That is an unarguable outcome of this pursuit.

Today I will begin a series to thoroughly explore this pattern to despair. What drives this rush to oblivion? Why does the plan not work? And what value, if any does the inevitable outcome serve? Suffering is something everyone wants to avoid and nobody can prevent, until…

But today I’ll drop a clue with the thought of where this series will lead. Not only is suffering unavoidable but it is essential in the process of awakening.

The Ultimate culture.

Some time ago I wrote a post where I explored Plato’s PNC

—Principle of non-contradiction and suggested how it seems to make sense that no two things can exist in the same place at the same time. The outgrowth of this principle has unarguably created the view that mutual discretion is a fact of life. You are you and I am me and neither of us can be in the same place at the same time. Consequently, the logical outgrowth of the PNC turns out to be alienation and self-service at the expense of others and this basic notion manifests in various ways across the spectrum of culture.

The alternative to the PNC is that two dissimilar things always exist in the same place at the same time. How can such an obvious conundrum be true? To answer this question we must understand a principle of truth established by The Buddha and later articulated by Nagarjuna who lived roughly 500 years after the death of The Buddha. He is credited with many elaborations of The Buddha’s teachings, especially the Prajñāpāramitā Sutra (Perfection of Transcendent Wisdom).  Importantly he is also credited with establishing the Two Truth Doctrine. Both of these say that indeed two dissimilar things do exist in the same place at the same time. In point of fact were it not so then nothing whatsoever could exist.

The primary message of both of these teachings is dependent origination: Form (everything perceptible and conditional) is equal to śūnyatā (emptiness or the realm of unconditionality): the direct opposite of conditional life. They must exist together since emptiness is the eternal wellspring of everything. Said in other terms, everything is united in this unconditional realm. Since it is unconditional there can’t be any discrimination, judgment, or duality of any kind.

This realm is called by many names: Buddha-Nature, Unity, God, etc. The name is not important since any and all names are abstractions of something transcendent to articulation. And furthermore, even though it is imperceptible, this realm is pervasive and ubiquitous—it inhabits all of creation. When Jesus said “the Father is in me,and I in the Father” he was stating the highest truth. What we fail to consider is that this unification is true for all of us. Just preceding this statement Jesus also said, “…“Is it not written in your Law ‘I have said you are “gods”’? If he (God) called them ‘gods,’ to whom the word of God came—and Scripture cannot be set aside…”

We are going through the throws of cultural death because we doubt this message of unconditional divine incarnation. Dependent origination demands that nothing can exist without the fusion of opposites to create wholeness. The opposite of conditional discrimination is unconditional nondiscrimination and these two inhabit all life (one part of which is us) so the notion of the PNC is not only untrue, it is impossible.

A philosophy is a mental fabrication designed to come close to truth but this is truth itself and when anyone stands against truth the cosmos gets really mad and produces what none of us wants—suffering. And it makes no difference whether we are talking about a single individual, a culture or the entire universe. Everything is only one unconditional, indescribable non-thing. You and I are One. We are united and to damage you is the same thing as damaging myself, and the opposite. Unconditional love is the fundamental truth of the universe and that is a much better plan than the PNC for all cultures. 

Mindfull—Mindless

“Too much mind”—The advice given to Captain Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise) in the movie The Last Samurai. Algren fled to Japan, thinking he could leave his distress behind. In the early days of his stay, he is trying to drown his misery in booze. His despair resulted from his participation in the mass slaughter in the American Indian wars. And during this time of anguish, he becomes captured by a band of Samurai warriors where he has no choice but to come to terms with his demons. In the process, he learns the Samurai way and gets beaten repeatedly before he can let go. Slowly he begins to understand: “Too much mind.”

The way of the Samurai arose in direct response to the rise of Zen in Japan. And the practice of Japanese Zen arose from the teachings of Bodhidharma in China. There’s a famous story of a conversation that occurred between Bodhidharma and his student Huike. One day Huike came to Bodhidharma and said: “My mind is anxious. Please pacify it.” Bodhidharma replied, “Bring me your mind, and I will pacify it.” Huike said, “Although I’ve sought it, I cannot find it.” Bodhidharma replied, “There, I have pacified your mind.” On hearing this, Huike became enlightened.

When we hear that story, our rational mind becomes confused. How, we think, can we have too much mind yet somehow pacification happens by not finding it? That requires some non-thought to comprehend, yet when we really understand, we also might become enlightened.

The problem is we think. The solution is not thinking. I know that sounds puzzling, but here is the Rosetta Stone answer: Our real mind is always at peace and enlightened, and our thinking mind is perpetually restless and unenlightened. What we believe is our mind is not our mind because our real 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 vs. another. And 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.

When Captain Algren finally gets it, he is no longer roped in by his thinking, but instead, he is just there, at which point he stops losing and becomes a true warrior. In the Japanese form of Zen, there is a saying: Mushin, Shin. “Mu” means nothing (emptiness), and “shin” means thinking mind, so putting this together means that when we lose our thinking (rational) mind we find our true (transcendent) mind (Shin). Of course, the mind that is being lost is not really our mind but rather is our thoughts and emotions, which obscure and hide our true mind: The source of all thought. It is neither thought nor non-thought. Do you get it? If you really do understand, then you too might be enlightened, unless you start thinking about it. Then you must lose that as well. So just go crazy and lose your mind.

The illusion of you and me.

The shadow of self or the reality casting the shadow?

The tenet of “no self” has been a fundamental, defining loadstone of Buddhism since the very beginning. The term originally used for self/ego was “anatman” and the contention surrounding this matter was divided between those who argued for self vs. those who argued the opposite anatman (self vs. no-self). It boiled down to the issue of any phenomenal thing possessing an independent nature. Closely aligned with this argument was the understanding that all things were empty (of independent essence). In other words, everything could only exist dependently, thus the principle of dependent origination.

This argument stood for a long time until Nagarjuna came along with his Two Truth Doctrine in which he laid out his understanding of what the Buddha had taught, culminating with the Middle Way which expressed the Buddha’s conclusion of, “Not this (atman). Not that (anatman). Neither not (atman). Neither not (anatman).” 

The importance of this conclusion is significant and profound but unfortunately seems to be a broadly unresolved matter. What Nagarjuna said in his Two Truth Doctrine was that there is a difference between the conventional, discriminate view (the common-sense view) and the sublime, indiscriminate view (ultimate truth) and that no one could be set free unless they experienced the sublime.

In the 8th-century an Indian Buddhist philosopher by the name of Śāntideva said that in order 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.” In a similar manner 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 place for praise and blame, but in the ultimate Reality of Dharmakāya (our true transcendent 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 form and emptiness. They are one and the same thing: two sides of the same coin. One side perceptible (phenomena); the other side beyond perception (noumena). There have been numerous terms used as alternates for noumena ranging from Buddha-Nature, Dharmakāya, the Void, Ground of being 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.

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.”

The Yogācārians took this to the logical conclusion and stated that everything was mind. You are mind. I am mind. The entire universe is nothing but mind. This, however, did not resolve the matter, and 2,500 years later the issue of atman vs. anatman remains unresolved. The Middle Way remains a matter of contention. Consequently there exist today three kinds of Buddhist practice: The kind that dogmatically clings to self, a second that dogmatically clings to no self and a third that says, “Not atman. Not anatman. Neither not atman. Neither not anatman.” 

In the end you will only know when you experience the sublime. Then the argument will come to an end and you’ll never be able to convey your answer. That is the ultimate test, “…far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind, what is there to praise (or blame)?”

Infinite us.

We have a vision problem. We can see some things and not others. And naturally, we assume that what we see is the true you and me. 

That detectible is the objective part of us. We can touch, feel, see, and perceive it in every way our sensory faculties allow. That part is finite. It is born, it grows, and ultimately dies. That objective aspect has an imaginary identity, and we define and clothe it in a nearly unlimited set of configurations. We cherish such configurations and use them to represent us. We group these configurations into common frameworks in order to feel comfortable with others who choose similar arrangements, and we call this grouping, “flocking together with birds of a feather.” These birds love to fight other birds that don’t look the same.

This is the ordinary way of understanding ourselves in relation to others, and there is an unseen problem here because nothing objective possesses sentient qualities. A stone is a pure object. So is a blade of grass. Neither of these (and many other examples) has sentient qualities of consciousness, at least as far as we know, but we do. All animate beings have both sentient qualities and consciousness. These are the faculties that differentiate us from pure objects, and these are what make us human. But neither consciousness nor sentient dimensions can be seen because this is what is doing the seeing.

There are two parts of us, which are completely integrated into a single human being. One part is seen. One part is seeing. One part is infinitely different and seen, and the other part is infinitely the same and unseen. One part is finite, and one part is infinite. The true you and the true me is never born and never dies, but the other part does both. We’re told we now share the earth with 7 billion very different objective human bodies, and yet on another level, there is only a single, just-like-everyone-else infinite us. It’s a profound mystery.

Where is it?

For reasons I may never understand, I’ve been fascinated by how things fit together and the effect they have on each other. Until well into adult life, I didn’t realize this fascination had names or related names. 

Most times, we are poorly equipped to know how we know what we know or even if anyone else is looking at life in similar ways. My awareness of such terms as ontology, epistemology, and cybernetics came slowly. But I found a particular interest in the latter. 

Cybernetics is basically the examination of systems and is most applicable when a system being analyzed is involved in a closed signaling loop; that is, where action by the system generates some change in its environment and that change is reflected in the system in some manner (feedback) that triggers a system change, initially referred to as a circular causal relationship.

As I considered this discipline, I began to wonder about that requirement (e.g., a closed signaling loop). What if, instead of a closed-loop, it was an open-loop without beginning or ending? What if it had no defining limits? How might the system work then? Would that be a meta-system—a network of systems? The matter, from an intellectual perspective, intrigued me, but I set the issue aside for many years until I hit the wall emotionally about 35 years ago. 

In the 17^th century, Japanese Zen Master Hakuin Ekaku wrote his famous poem, The Song of Zazen, within which he said, “How near the truth, yet how far we seek. Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’ Like the son of a rich man wandering poor on this earth we endlessly circle the six worlds. The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.” 

I realize, given conventional wisdom, this view is unorthodox but so what? In truth, it isn’t even a singularly Buddhist perspective. Jesus, when referring to the kingdom of God, said pretty much the same thing in the Gnostic Gospels.

To fathom my dilemma, I plunged then into the ocean of Zen and finally came to a critical realization: there was no real closed-loop, except the one I imagined. And how was it possible to imagine something unimaginable? Without some concrete, objective measurement, such a state of mind is fantastic. In fact, it couldn’t be imagined at all, just experienced, which is essentially what “awakening” really entails—to experience your fantastical self—the real one beyond imagination.

But initially, this awakening was like finding myself in a vast cosmic ocean with no compass or identifying properties. And frankly, it was both scary and fascinating at the same time. I struggled to find ways to adequately articulate the experience but never came close. Nevertheless, I started reading and found some resonance in what the Buddha had said. He asserted that external reality is an illusion that looks very real, like a closed system with feedback loops.

Furthermore, we found ourselves in this objective box, unaware that it was our true selves that were creating and watching from beyond the box. The external illusion had objective properties that kept changing, and not aware of anything beyond the illusion; we defined ourselves by clinging to these “unreal” objects. According to The Buddha, that clinging (and inevitable loss) was at the heart of suffering.

This simultaneous in and out sense of being, came to be known as dependent origination: one side arising and disappearing with the other side. It took both the in and the out, but Buddhist doctrine said that it was the out, indefinable yet real, unconditional consciousness. It was sort of like potential and kinetic energy. Potential consciousness had no limits (nor could it be identified), but consciousness became objective and kinetic through a sensory application. Thus our sense of self arose, and we “became” by thought and deed. Until then, we were pure consciousness, absolute emptiness itself. In Buddhist terms: the void/The Buddha.

The Buddha said the mind can’t exist without external phenomena, nor could external phenomena exist outside of the mind. Everything was enclosed within the unlimited province of the true mind. The Buddha stated, “Within this fathom long body is the world, the origin of the world, the cessation of the world and the path leading to the cessation of the world.” We keep trying to find our minds and never succeed. And why is that? We can’t find it since wherever we look, there is mind. Eternity, in infinite configuration, is mind. It is impossible to be outside since all is mind, which is another name for sentience.

If we can set aside our religious conditioning, we will realize just how similar this is to the Parable of the Prodigal Son. And the point? We suffer because we don’t know we are already where we desire to be, but the truth is hidden by our illusory sense of self. When we lose that delusion, at the same time, we awaken to our true self: unconditional consciousness—the same knowing that Jesus spoke of, and we suddenly realize where we are: in the Kingdom of God.

Crystal ball gazing.

Everyone agrees that seeing the future is speculative at best, but we lull ourselves with the fruit of the exercise anyway. Economists, politicians, poets, and regular people all play the game of crystal ball gazing and many fall prey to actually believing their wishful projections. 

Once we have persuaded our self of a perspective it is inordinately hard to undo our vested positions. Then the whole world needs to reinforce positions taken. Do you want to know why this doesn’t work very well? It’s for two reasons: (1) lack of internal research and (2) the lack of being aware of unintended consequences. Let’s look at these two in tandem.

Internal research: For this we need to equip ourselves with a rear-view mirror and take a hard look at where we’ve been. It isn’t hard, but it does require losing the blinders and look dispassionately at the choices we’ve made and the ensuing benefits and consequences. There’s a path back there that is unavoidably clear if we can let go of justifying our past actions and playing the tired canard game of blame. 

When all of those fabrications are thrown aside, and we can stop the desire to be right at all cost, we can learn something of value about how to avoid repeating the same mistakes that created havoc. If we can’t do that then we’ll keep on doing the same thing and get the same dissatisfying outcome (our futures).

There’s a reason why we can’t see our future. The reason is because we haven’t yet made choices. When we make choices the outcome follows suit. Make different choices and we get a different outcomes. Sometimes we seem to be slow learners. Cause and effect are peerless. Push this button, you get this result. Why is that so hard to fathom? Apparently it is because collectively we seem doomed to repeated patterns of egotistical stupidity, unable to see that common choices lead to common outcomes. If we want a better future it will only happen when we make better choices now.

Unintended consequences: In spite of our best internal research and dispassionate assessment, life is complicated and stuff happens beyond our control. Not only do we make choices that affect others, so likewise do others make choices that affect us. We are in process and will know better tomorrow, things we can only learn by making mistakes today. That’s the way everyone learns. Nobody gets a rain check to put off today what life brings our way from choices we have already made. Come back tomorrow and the opportunities for learning yesterday’s lessons have passed us by.

If we miss that boat, stuff happens anyway. Now consequences of non-action sweep over us. This idea of not choosing, is a death trap. A choice to not choose is still a choice. There is no such thing as sitting on the sidelines, uninvolved while we wait for the world to emerge. We are the world and the world answers our beckon call. 

People may say, “I’m praying. That’s enough.” No it isn’t enough. The unenfleshed manifestations of thought or divine infusion, left in the brain cells means nothing. Thought and prayer, as good as they may be, are just water priming the pump. Good thoughts or good prayers are worthless unless we do something. Praying while the world burns around us is an excuse that results in a disintegrating life and a disintegrating world. 

If we don’t act each moment of today there are new challenges to deal with the next moment. In each and every passing moment, we have an amazing opportunity to create. The challenge is that the ingredients we have to work with are always new and fresh. The recipes of the past no longer apply because the ingredients keep changing.

We do make errors and consequences flow from them. We don’t have the luxury of do-overs. All that we can do is forgive ourselves and others, learn from what we did wrong (if anything) and make better choices. That’s enough.

Crystal ball gazing is either a productive or a destructive endeavor. If we are wise we’ll learn from our mistakes (everyone makes them). If we don’t learn we’ll have new opportunities, and the ones that emerge will be precisely the ones we ourselves have created either by choosing wisely for the benefit of all or ones we choose for selfish reasons. The latter will come back to bite us in the future that we ourselves have created.