Issue 307

Why did Shakyamuni Buddha say that Ananda was like this, taking his fingertip as the substance of the moon? That fingertip has no bright substance; it is darkness. The moon, on the other hand, has a visible luminous form; it is bright. Ananda can’t tell light from darkness, which means he doesn’t have any genuine wisdom. That means: the Buddha speaks Dharma to point to the true mind. But Ananda, hearing the location of this true mind, assumed that the true mind resided in this Dharma, and thinks the true mind is just in the Dharma. So, he listens to the Dharma with the mind that exploits conditions. If he fails to use this mind that exploits conditions, then there will be no Dharma to hear.

So, he developed this doubt: “It’s fine if I don’t have this mind that exploits conditions, but if I let go of this mind, how will I listen to the Dharma? I don’t have a mind anymore!” He still considered this mind that exploits conditions to be his mind! He didn’t know that this discriminating mind that seizes upon conditions is a perceptive mind, a mind of production and extinction; only by letting go of it can one truly hear the Dharma. He thought that if he abandoned this mind that exploits conditions, he would have no way to listen to the Dharma; what he feared was not being able to hear the Dharma at all. He didn’t know that if one listens to the Dharma with a true mind, then every Dharma is true, all Dharmas are true; if you listen to the Dharma with a mind that seizes upon conditions, no matter how you listen, it will always seem right but not quite right, as if it’s like this, yet it seems not right? There will always be doubts.

You must accept this Dharma with a true mind. Didn’t I say earlier that “Ananda dared not accept this Dharma”? He dared not accept the true mind that Shakyamuni Buddha spoke of; he feared that if he accepted this true mind, he would not be able to listen to the Dharma. His fear lay in this point; his most important thing was to listen to the Dharma: “I don’t care what the mind of arising and ceasing is! In short, as long as I have the Dharma to listen to, that’s enough!” So, he didn’t understand this point and developed a doubt, asking the Buddha. The Buddha said, “He’s like someone who sees the moon through a finger; he doesn’t see the moon, he takes the finger for the moon. That’s the kind of person he is!” This was the Buddha teaching him.

If you take what distinguishes the sound of my speaking dharma to be your mind, then that mind itself, apart from the sound which is distinguished, should have a nature which makes distinctions. It is like the guest who lodges overnight at an inn; he stops temporarily and then goes on. He does not dwell there permanently, whereas the innkeeper does not go anywhere: he is the host of the inn.

If you take what distinguishes the sound of my speaking dharma to be your mind, then that mind itself, apart from the sound which is distinguished, should have a nature which makes distinctions. If the mind you are using, the mind which seizes upon conditions and makes distinctions, is indeed your true mind, then it should have a distinction – making a nature that is separate from the distinctions that it makes. When you are not listening to dharma, you would still have a nature which is making distinctions; that’s how it would have to be. Why?

It is like the guest who lodges overnight at an inn; he stops temporarily and then goes on. He does not dwell there permanently. He stays for two or three days; he will not live in the hotel forever. Whereas the innkeeper does not go anywhere: he is the host of the inn. The person who looks after the hotel will not go away.

That is to say, if you use your mind that discriminates, then the distinction-making mind is like someone who stays temporarily in a hotel for a few days, then it’s time to leave it again. But where will it go? It should also have a distinction-making nature. If it is your own true mind, it will not leave; is like the innkeeper who stays there often and will not leave. The Buddha then explains to Ananda that he is just the same; the Buddha now uses various metaphors to help him understand.

Likewise, if it is truly your mind, it does not go anywhere. However, in the absence of sound it has no discriminating nature of its own. Can you tell the reason why? This, then, applies not only to the distinguishing of sound; in distinguishing my appearance, there is no distinction-making nature apart from the mark of form. Thus, even when the making of distinctions is totally absent, when there are no form and no emptiness – the obscurity which Goshali and the others take to be the ‘Prakrti’ – in the absence of causal conditions, the distinction-making nature ceases to exist.

Likewise, the principle I just mentioned, if compared and aligned with the Dharma, is exactly like this! If it is truly your mind, it does not go anywhere. However, in the absence of sound it has no discriminating nature of its own. Can you tell the reason why? Your perceptive mind is like the guest staying at an inn. It is not your true mind. If it is your true mind, there’s nowhere for it to go, it shouldn’t leave. How can there be no distinction-making nature when separated from sound? How can this be? You have made a mistake!

This, then, applies not only to the distinguishing of sound. This doctrine does not only apply to sounds. When there is sound there is the making of distinctions, and when there is no sound, no distinctions are made. In distinguishing my appearance, there is no distinction-making nature apart from the mark of form. When you look at my thirty-two hallmarks and eighty subtle characteristics, you make distinctions among them; when you are separated from them, you do not, and the discriminating nature is not present.

Some people argue, “I listen to the sounds of the dharma being spoken and when I go home, I can still hear it in my mind. I look at things, and when I close my eyes, I still have an impression of them. It is as if I were still looking at them.” Would you say that is true or false? Are you really hearing? It is just an impression in your eighth consciousness, a memory, which is meant by the “shadows of discriminations of objects of mind;” it is not real. It is an illusory awareness. It is not an actual distinction being made, because apart from objects which are distinguished, there is no distinction-making nature!

The Buddha has just explained the doctrine that in the absence of sound there is no distinction-making nature, and that apart from the dust of form there is no distinction-making nature. Thus – the same is true—even when the making of distinctions is totally absent, when there are no form and no emptiness. When you reach a state in which all making of distinctions is gone, you can’t say it is either form or emptiness; it is neither. It is also the state of maintaining an “inner composure.” Followers of external paths cultivate Prakrti which is total oblivion. They think it is the highest and most wonderful experience!

This is the obscurity which Goshali and the others take to be the “Prakrti.” Goshali and others of the external paths, they are confused and mistakenly believe that this is called the “Prakrti “. Goshali was one of the six masters of external paths. The Sanskrit name “Goshali” is interpreted to mean “cowshed.” Maybe Goshali lived next to a cowshed, or perhaps he lived in a cowshed, and so he was called “cowshed.” Some say “cowshed” was his mother’s name. But I don’t believe his mother was a cow.

The Chinese word mei (昧) obscure, is one of the two characters used to transliterate the Sanskrit word samadhi(三昧). But the character mei alone does not refer to samadhi, it means confusion and lack of understanding. They reached the state where the making of distinctions is totally absent, and because they basically did not understand, they became obscured. Instead, it resembles sleep, although one is not actually asleep. You say you are awake, and yet you are muddled. He and the others fell into a state of obscurity, that is, of confusion and lack of understanding. In this passage, the Buddha is talking about this state, not about samadhi. When one enters the samadhi Buddhism speaks of, one is absolutely clear and aware. These external-path practitioners are muddled. When they are in that state, they feel that they are one with the life-force of heaven and earth; that their bodies are identical with it. They think they are indestructible just like heaven and earth. But they don’t understand. They do have a little bit of spiritual penetration, like that of a first-stage arhat, but they do not have the penetrations of one who has accomplished the fruition. There are many distinctions which must be made when one starts talking about spiritual penetrations. There are not just one but many kinds.

These masters of external paths name their lack of understanding the “Prakrti.” “Prakrti” implies the absence of everything. Everything is empty. But it is still not genuine emptiness; it is only dull emptiness, a state like awaking and yet like sleeping, like knowing and yet not knowing; like being aware and yet not aware. ” They call this “Prakrti” the highest state one can attain! That is their theory.

In the absence of causal conditions, the distinction-making nature ceases to exist. Their Prakrti is separate from the conditions of all dharmas, and it has no distinction-making nature when the conditions of all dharmas are absent. As soon as conditions of dharmas arise, these people still have a distinction-making nature. So, this is the dark truth of the external paths.