寶藏論

THE CHAPTER ON THE UNIVERSAL ILLUMINATION OF EMPTINESS AND EXISTENCE

(First)

If “emptiness” can be made empty, it is not true emptiness; if “form” can be made form, it is not true form. True form is without characteristics; true emptiness is without name. The nameless is the father of names, and the characteristicless is the mother of characteristics.

This is the source of the myriad species, the primordial ancestor of heaven and earth. Above, it clearly displays all manner of forms and images; below, it manifests houses, trees, and plants. The primal energy (self-nature) is contained within the great image, and the great image is concealed within the characteristicless.

This is the numinous nature capable of cognizing things. Within the numinous is spirit; within spirit is body. Unconditioned transformation proceeds in each case according to what is naturally so.

As soon as the slightest function begins to stir, names and characteristics gradually arise. Characteristics arise before any real substance exists, and names are established before anything has been named. Once names and characteristics have appeared, the wandering energy (1)[1] clouds the purity of self-nature.

From silent emptiness arise all manner of distinctions. Above there are rulers, and below there are ministers. Fathers and sons dwell together in intimacy, while the honored and the humble occupy different ranks.

Civilized life begins, and people establish families; thereafter they gather together to form tribes, each tribe comprising many households, and each person individually keeping to their proper duty. For the sake of security and order, rites and moral teachings are instituted; thus terms are created to distinguish good from evil. The good are honored, and the wicked are despised.

The wise remain at ease, while fools bind themselves. From this, all manner of disputes over right and wrong arise. Above, complications are devised; below, there is no peace or joy.

The natural aspiration of human beings is lost, and they are constrained within the confines of external things. They mistake the conditioned aspect of the unconditioned and, through movement, produce the functions of deliberate action. Once instruction and moral transformation have been implemented, those above and below are all made to comply.

Thus, sound is divided into the five tones, color into the five colors, conduct into the five activities, and virtue into the five virtues. There are teachers and disciples; once the teacher has instructed, the disciple must comply. To deviate by the breadth of a hair is an offense equal to Mount Sumeru.

Laws prohibit before an offense has been committed and guard against deeds before they have been done. There are numerous restrictions, without leniency or pardon. Why is this so?

Because human craving knows no satisfaction, and from it disorder arises.

Heaven and earth are utterly still, and the universe is empty. Yet the slightest speck of dust arising within a single thought immediately becomes a veil covering the eye of self-nature. The radiant essence is originally numinous both within and without; but when deluded thought suddenly arises, the true unity (self-nature) becomes concealed.

Because delusion gives rise to discriminating consciousness, the true nature is bewildered. One seeks what need not be sought and desires to attain what need not be attained. In terms of principle, this is boundless; in terms of phenomena, it is inexhaustible.

From this, disturbance and disorder arise. Internally, the three poisons arise; externally, the five desires are received. Body and mind become busy and confused, chasing after what is seen and heard and engaging in activity according to circumstances, like a fire blazing fiercely.

Therefore, the sages established the true teaching and proclaimed the true principle, so that the ignorant might have a refuge: cultivating the unconditioned, bringing the conditioned to rest, and gradually arriving at suchness. This principle of suchness is the essence of the true nature. It cannot be cultivated or realized, nor can it be sought after; it is simply the nature of quiescent extinction.

As for the word “true,” it is the ancestor of the myriad things. It is neither world nor sentient beings; it has neither boundary nor location. It is the foundation of the three realms, yet cannot be seen by the eyes or heard by the ears and possesses neither soul nor material form.

Those who cultivate the true Dharma must first depart from characteristics, extinguish emotional attachment, refrain from pursuing things, and cease clinging to birth and death. Only then can they merge with the Great Way and penetrate numinous illumination. When there is function, it is called spirit; when there is form, it is called body.

The unconditioned is the Way, and the characteristicless is the true. Names are established in accordance with things, and activities are undertaken in response to things. It abides and endures perpetually, neither arising nor ceasing.

Its principle encompasses the myriad virtues, while its manifestations display wondrous skill. Although its manifestations are endless, its principle is one alone. There is no person who realizes and no one who attains; yet if one neither realizes nor attains, delusion still remains within the mind.

An untrue mind then deludes others, bewildering them as though they had encountered a demon. If investigated through conceptual thought, ultimately nothing is found at all. It is like a mirror suddenly covered with dust or the sky suddenly filled with clouds.

All things arise dependently, yet because of delusion they are grasped as truly existent. To be deluded is ignorance; to be without delusion is truth. It is like true ice melting into water and deluded water freezing into ice.

Although ice and water are two, their essence is no different. Deluded confusion is ignorance; awakening to truth is wisdom. In winter, ice cannot melt; in spring, water cannot freeze.

Thus, ignorance cannot be corrected immediately, nor can wisdom be attained at once. Ice melts gradually before flowing into the great ocean. This is the Way of what is naturally so, the function of the wondrous.

It cannot be fathomed by mental thought; it can only continue perpetually and cannot be obtained through strenuous seeking.

There are tens of thousands of paths constituting the causes and conditions for entering the Way. They are like a fish trapped in a muddy puddle or a sick bird caught among reeds: neither knows of the great ocean or the deep forest. The meaning is the same for those who cultivate the Lesser Vehicle.

They labor in cultivation for a long time only to stop midway, because they have not penetrated the principle of suchness. Forsaking the great and seeking the small, they obtain little and consider it sufficient. They content themselves with minor peace, which cannot compare with the peace and security of great peace.

What is called “great” is vast and boundless, shared equally by all sentient beings and the myriad things. In responding to capacities, it has tens of thousands of skillful means; in transformation, it manifests all manner of forms. Yet it neither departs nor enters, and its function is never interrupted.

It has mind yet is without characteristics; it has function yet no agent. It manifests birth yet is unborn; it manifests a body yet is bodiless. It is always discerning yet does not discern, always knowing yet does not know, acting yet unconditioned, attaining yet without attainment.

A mirror reveals a thousand images; water reflects ten thousand colors. Within reflections, the mundane three realms are distinguished. Its responsive functioning is inexhaustible.

Though without characteristics, it forms characteristics; though without a name, it establishes names. Beings respond to one another and arise through harmonious union. Yet arising is also non-arising, and feeling is also without feeling.

Sentient beings call it “sage”; sentient beings call it “illumination.” All manner of designations are assigned according to the myriad things, but in truth they all take the unconditioned as their essential doctrine and the characteristicless as their countenance. It is empty like space: when sought, it has no location, yet its function is always present therein. The one who attains is unified; the one who realizes is subtle.

Yet attainment is not unified, and realization is not subtle; nevertheless, it is neither not unified nor not subtle. Its essence is yin separation, and its function is yang subtlety (yin separation and yang subtlety are explained in a later chapter). In speaking of its principle, it is boundless; in speaking of its practice, it is inexhaustible.

This is called the supremely subtle (self-nature). It is like grasses and trees, which are without end; like spring water, which is inexhaustible; like wind that blows without ceasing; like the sound of a bell that does not stop. If even beings are thus, how much more so the Way!

Whatever exists must swiftly perish; what is nonexistent must endure. Though heaven and earth may change, empty space remains forever empty.

Those who study the Way study what is without remainder; those who do not study the Way study what has remainder. What is without remainder is near to the Way; what has remainder is far from the Way. Knowing existence, one finds existence subject to destruction; knowing nonexistence, one finds nonexistence indestructible.

In the knowing of true knowledge, neither existence nor nonexistence is grasped. Amid existence, it is not existent; amid nonexistence, it is not nonexistent. When neither existence nor nonexistence is grasped, nature and characteristics are suchness.

The essence of self-nature is quiescent and devoid of things, yet function emerges from it. If it is not so, manifold delusions and errors arise. Dreams and fantasies exist within, and through their conditioning many illnesses are formed.

What is not inauspicious becomes inauspicious; what is not auspicious becomes auspicious. Matters deemed auspicious or inauspicious obstruct true unity. Therefore, practitioners of the Way should not be deluded by dreams and fantasies.

Those who study the Way are of three kinds: the first is called true, the second is called proximate, and the third is called learned through hearing. Studying through practice is called learned through hearing; putting an end to study is called proximate; transcending both of these is called true. Those who do not study the Way are also of three kinds: the highest are called peaceful, the middle are called fortunate, and the lowest are called calamitous; extreme happiness is called fortunate, extreme suffering is called calamitous, and neither suffering nor happiness is called peaceful. Yet none of these three kinds enters true permanence; therefore, they are not the Way.

The self-nature is wondrous and subtle, and its functioning is boundless. Whenever the dusts of the mind stir and disturb, it is like waves rising upon the sea, giving rise to birth and death and transmigration through the six realms. Such beings cannot be aided by the Way or rescued by the True—how lamentable! The Buddhas have compassion for them as a mother yearns for her children. Though they wish to liberate them all, the proper conditions must be present. Thus, when conditions exist, they appear; when conditions are absent, they remain hidden. Such is the Great Way; it has always been so from ancient times to the present. It cannot be attained suddenly, nor can it be accomplished in haste.

The true nature inherently possesses wisdom, and within wisdom there is inherently compassion. Compassion can rescue beings from suffering; yet when suffering cannot be relieved, it merely wearies itself, and whenever beings can be liberated, it continues liberating them without end. But sentient beings constantly dwell amid dreams and delusions. Though they diligently and vigorously study the Way, they do not trust their own mind but seek outside themselves, losing the path of the true Dharma. It is like impurity muddying clear water. Because they emotionally cling to real existence and real nonexistence, they cannot free themselves from afflictions—truly, how painful!

The sun hidden within clouds, though bright, does not shine forth; wisdom hidden within delusion, though true, is not the Way. Why is this? Because one has not yet freed oneself from bondage; therefore, what is distant cannot be united with, and what is near cannot be relinquished.

Those who have not attained the Way should not act recklessly! One resolved to return does not concern himself with what lies behind; one resolved to fight does not concern himself with his head; one resolved to learn does not cherish his body; and one resolved to study the Way does not prize involvement in affairs. Entering, he leaves no trace; emerging, there is nowhere to find him.

Awakening, there is nothing attained; conditioned grasping is naturally quiescent. Quiescent, it does not arise; the essence itself has no name. Namelessness is reality.

Principle is not apart from desire, and merits as numerous as the sands of the Ganges are clearly and perfectly present.

Creatures that live within shells, such as crabs and snails, do not know the vastness of the universe; creatures that live in ponds and wells do not know the immensity of the ocean. Within darkness there is no light, and within light there is no darkness. Dharmas, each and every one, do not know one another; therefore, things are separated and feelings stand apart.

What runs contrary to ordinary feelings is difficult to understand. It is also like an apple containing a worm: the inside is already spoiled while the outside still appears sound; or like water and sand flowing together, clear above and turbid below. It is also like a nation with treacherous ministers, where the land cannot be at peace.

Whenever forms are concealed within the mind, all things fall into disorder. Why is this? Because illness has already arisen.

Therefore, whenever a being possesses sentience (awareness and cognition), that sentience necessarily contains perversity (deceptive delusion); perversity necessarily entails desire; desire necessarily entails mind (discriminating consciousness); mind necessarily entails emotion; when emotion stirs, it becomes desire; when perversity manifests, it becomes a spirit (demonic spirit); the spirit deludes the numinous nature, and desire deludes the True.

Thus, those who study the Way should not fall into the proximate category (those who have put an end to study). Just as an ancient mirror reflecting a demonic spirit causes the spirit to reveal its own form, when the ancient teachings (the Dharma teachings of the ancient worthies) illuminate the mind, the mind becomes clear by itself. When speaking of heaven and earth, there are above and below; when speaking of the sun and moon, there are east and west; when speaking of the body, there are self and other; when speaking of mind-consciousness, there are right and wrong.

If there were no self and other, right and wrong would not arise. It is only because things change according to feelings, while feelings shift according to things. Inside and outside are shaken, and the mind chases after things, thereby bringing weariness upon itself.

In life it becomes a person; in death it becomes a spirit. Resembling one another, they continue in succession, like the body in a dream. While dreaming, one clings to the dream-body as oneself; thus, the waking body is not oneself.

While awake, one clings to the waking body as oneself; thus, the dream-body is not oneself. In truth, everything is like a bird flying through the sky, leaving no trace. Strange phenomena are difficult to contemplate and difficult to fathom; yin and yang stand in opposition, while deluded thoughts operate unseen.

Each and every thing has its own cause and effect. Things are like magical illusions; all manner of phenomena are unreal. This is called the untrue, which merely deludes people.

True principle is empty and originally without a body. Displays of supernatural transformation are like a dragon in the heavens; the obscuring of the universe is like clouds suddenly gathering. Yet these are not precious, nor are they true. If one clings to them as real, one has not yet attained the Way. Some may possess beautiful forms, some may possess eloquent speech, some may possess brilliant wisdom, and some may possess skillful powers of application. Yet if one clings to these as the Way, that is still not a wholesome matter. Whatever exists is necessarily untrue; whatever is created is necessarily impermanent. Even heaven and earth must decay—how much more so material things? How could they remain firm and enduring for long!

Only the Dao is rootless, serenely and eternally abiding; only the Dao is bodiless, subtle, wondrous, and ever true; only the Dao is without affairs, ever precious from time immemorial; only the Dao is without mind, yet all things are complete within it. Therefore, the Great Dao is without marks, form, affairs, intention, or mind, yet it can benefit sentient beings and the myriad things, serving as master of all people and things.

All things exist in mutual opposition; only the Great Dao abides alone. Outside it there is nothing else, yet inside it is not empty. It is neither inside nor outside; it encompasses the Supreme One—the self-nature—embraces the entire universe, and contains all things in their completeness.

That true mark is neither internal nor external, neither small nor great, neither one nor different, neither bright nor obscure, neither arising nor ceasing, neither coarse nor subtle, neither empty nor existent, neither open nor closed, neither above nor below, neither proceeding nor decaying, neither moving nor still, neither returning nor departing, neither deep nor shallow, neither foolish nor wise, neither contrary nor compliant, neither unobstructed nor blocked, neither poor nor rich, neither new nor old, neither good nor bad, neither hard nor soft, neither solitary nor paired.

Why is this so? If it is called internal, it encompasses the Dharma-realm; if it is called external, its functions are fully present. If it is called small, it pervades both far and near; if it is called great, it enters a mote of dust.

If it is called one, its forms and appearances are manifold; if it is called different, its essential nature contains no thing. If it is called bright, it is dim and indistinct; if it is called obscure, it illuminates with perfect clarity. If it is called arising, it is without marks or form; if it is called ceasing, it has ever been numinous from time immemorial.

If it is called coarse, it contracts into a mote of dust; if it is called subtle, its body equals Mount Sumeru. If it is called empty, its functions are vast and boundless; if it is called existent, it possesses no countenance. If it is called open, it does not enter the dust of the world; if it is called closed, its meaning is vast and boundless.

If it is called above, it is equal and without marks; if it is called below, nothing can equal it. If it is called formed, it disperses as soon as conditions are exhausted; if it is called decaying, it abides forever. If it is called moving, it is serenely quiescent; if it is called still, it is busily active.

If it is called returning, it goes and does not come back; if it is called departing, it returns in response to circumstances. If it is called deep, all things dwell together with it; if it is called shallow, its source cannot be found. If it is called foolish, it responds to circumstances without error; if it is called wise, it is quiescent extinction without remainder.

If it is called contrary, there is trust and reliance; if it is called compliant, things cannot bind it. If it is called unobstructed, its lineage and traces cannot be penetrated; if it is called blocked, its coming and going are empty and unhindered. If it is called poor, it possesses myriad virtues; if it is called rich, it does not contain a single thing.

If it is called new, it has existed since ancient times; if it is called old, things cannot defile it. If it is called good, there is no thing to preserve; if it is called bad, it has always been thus. If it is called hard, its arising and ceasing are impermanent; if it is called soft, its power is inexhaustible.

If it is called solitary, its kinds are as numerous as the sands of the Ganges; if it is called paired, the true unity is one alone. Therefore, the Great Dao cannot be designated by the word “one,” and true principle cannot be expressed through any single meaning. Here it can only be presented in broad outline and cannot be fully disclosed to its ultimate extent.

Even beheading and burning the body cannot injure true life, while a golden elixir or sweet dew cannot preserve life forever. If there is true arising, it does not cease; if there is true cessation, it does not arise. Thus, it may be called eternal cessation, and it may also be called eternal arising.

Those who crave life and fear death have not awakened to the principle of eternal cessation; those who seek extinction and loathe life have not awakened to the principle of eternal arising. Yet both the deluded and the awakened fail to see true unity, because they possess a mind of grasping and rejecting and pursue deluded emotional attachments.

Eternal emptiness is not nonexistence; eternal existence is not emptiness. If the two are not set in opposition, each and every one is the authentic teaching. Therefore, sages speak of existence according with existence and speak of emptiness according with emptiness. Emptiness does not contradict existence, and existence does not contradict emptiness. Neither statement is defective, and both meanings lead equally to penetration. Even speaking of “self” does not contradict “no-self,” and speaking of “affairs” does not contradict “no affairs.” Thus, one is not turned about by words.

When gold is cast into the form of a person, if one sees only the person and not the gold, one is deluded by form and appearance. This is called delusion. Why? Because the true has been lost. Thus, everything is illusory, false, and unreal. Knowing illusion to be illusion, inwardly preserving true unity, and outwardly remaining undefiled by things—this is the emptiness of the Supreme One. How, then, could the true be lost? Forget the mind and relinquish intention; the essential nature will be free from the illness of clinging to reality. When not a single mark arises, auspiciousness and misfortune become quiescent. If even auspiciousness does not follow, what can misfortune do? Both auspicious and inauspicious events are without any basis of dependence.

The way of entering the Dao is like clear, still water reflecting the images of the myriad forms. Inside and outside are distinctly clear; the mind does not stir and intention does not arise. There is neither going out nor coming in; all is serenely quiescent, just as it is. Neither inside nor outside is defiled, and things do not know one another. It does not depend upon spoken words or written characters; each and every thing inherently possesses its fundamental unity. Just as fire does not depend upon the sun to be hot, wind does not depend upon the moon to be cool, light does not depend upon darkness, and dryness does not depend upon moisture—even things do not depend upon one another, how much less does the Dao!

The functions of the myriad things become manifest only through human beings. The people depend upon the ruler, and the ruler relies upon the people. To awaken to the nonduality of all things is called Buddha, the Honored One alone throughout the three realms, awakened to the absence of any thing.

Acting without acting, the work is accomplished; hence the epithet “Perfectly and Completely Awakened One.” The Buddha is the teacher of gods and humans, guiding sentient beings and employing skillful means according to what is appropriate. Though the principle of purity is empty and formless, its light surpasses the sun of wisdom and shines throughout the ten directions, benefiting all above and below. It does not seek to be different from human beings, from the mundane world, from meaning and principle, or from cause and effect.

All is equally nondual, one essence perfectly interpenetrating. This principle is difficult to perceive; therefore, by relying on phenomena, skillful means are established, categories of Dharma are formulated, and questions, answers, and discourses are given. Manifesting in response to circumstances, this is called the truth of the Great Image.

Those who crave what is external cling to sensory objects; those who crave what is internal cling to the body; those who crave seeing and hearing cling to the mind. Reliance upon the six sensory objects is the desire realm; reliance upon form and appearance is the form realm; reliance upon the discriminating mind is the formless realm. The cessation of these three is called the truth of the path; whenever the truth of cessation is realized, that itself is the path.

Yet this path is only a temporary expedient and is not yet the true path. The three realms are false and unreal; the six paths of rebirth are like dreams and illusions, devoid of any thing. One who has attained the Dao neither abandons a single dharma, attains a single dharma, cultivates a single dharma, nor realizes a single dharma.

The self-nature is naturally true and pure; this is called the Great Dao. Therefore, when contemplating everything under heaven, the person is precisely the true. If one awakens to this principle, all is equally one and the same.

Yet those who study this Dao are already rare, and those who attain it are rarer still, because this matter is profound, obscure, and difficult to know. One who knows it is a teacher of the Dao; one who penetrates it is at peace. When actions are performed without mind, one acts yet remains unconditioned.

When one acts through nonaction, there is nothing one does not accomplish. Blending one’s light and adapting to things, one cannot be bound by things.

Throughout heaven and earth, across the entire universe, there is a precious treasure hidden within form and appearance. Its self-nature is numinously illuminating; inwardly and outwardly empty, quiescent and difficult to perceive, it is called the mysterious and wondrous. Its function is so skillful that it surpasses imagination; its power lies concealed within emptiness.

It teaches and transforms according to circumstances without ever moving. Unique and without a second, whenever it gives voice, it sends forth wondrous sounds; whenever it manifests form, it reveals wondrous colors. If one wishes to see it, it has no location; it can only provisionally be given the name emptiness of emptiness.

One can apprehend only its sound but cannot see its form; one can apprehend only its virtues but cannot see its countenance. Whether hidden or manifest, it shines with perfect clarity. This interpenetration of phenomena and principle is the precious seal of the myriad phenomena and the true source of the ten thousand forms.

As to its appearance, it is obscurely quiescent; its original essence is pure, yet it is not brightness. The Dharma is originally perfect and complete; its radiance surpasses the sun and moon, and the function of its virtue transcends the universe. The ten thousand things are without fabrication, and all things are nameless.

It transforms heaven and earth and moves freely in every direction. Its wondrous functions, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, arise from the primordial undifferentiated state. Who could hear of it without rejoicing?

Who could see it without wonder? Why do sentient beings bury this priceless treasure in the pit of the five skandhas and six ayatanas? How can the darkness accumulated over many kalpas ever become bright?

This is to disparage oneself and is truly pitiable!

That precious treasure is brilliant and dazzling, illuminating the ten directions. Quiescent and unmoving, its responsive functions are distinctly evident: it responds to sound according to sound, to color according to color, to yin according to yin, and to yang according to yang. Wondrous and without root, it abides perpetually in limpid stillness.

The eyes look but do not see it; the ears listen but do not hear it. Its essence is subtle and wondrous, undergoing ten thousand transformations. Its wondrous, numinous activity is called the subtle essence of the Great Way.

This subtle essence is utterly true; it is the cause from which the ten thousand things arise. Desolate and quiescent, it abides perpetually, with nothing comparable to it. Therefore, the sutra says: “When the mind is pure, the Buddha-land is pure.” The wondrous functioning of the myriad phenomena is called the Sage.

[1] Drifting qi: Deluded thoughts transform into turbid qi, floating and drifting in empty space; this is called drifting qi.

CHAPTER ON TRANSCENDING THE SUBTLE AND THE PURITY OF ESSENCE

(the second)

Entering is transcendence; emerging is subtlety. Outwardly, when one knows transcendence and enters, external sense-objects have nothing on which to depend. Inwardly, when one knows subtlety and emerges, the deluded mind has nothing to fabricate. When the mind fabricates nothing within, the various views—all manner of attachments to views—cannot obstruct it. When external sense-objects have nothing on which to depend, the ten thousand things cannot bind it. When the ten thousand things cannot bind it, thoughts do not pursue objects; when the various views do not obstruct it, there is inconceivable quiescent extinction. Why is this called purity of essence? Because the original essence is itself transcendent and subtle.

Speaking in terms of entering into the essence, it is called transcendence; speaking in terms of its function, it is called subtlety. When these are fused into one, there is neither transcendence nor subtlety. The transcendent essence cannot be defiled; because it is undefiled, it is not purity. The subtle essence cannot exist as a thing; because it does not exist as a thing, it has nothing on which to depend. Thus, it functions yet does not exist, and it is quiescent yet not empty. Because it is not empty, it is not annihilation; because it does not exist as a thing, it is not permanence.

The nature of transcendence and subtlety neither grasps nor rejects, neither cultivates nor studies. It is not something absent in the past that exists now, nor something that existed in the past but is absent now. Not even a single dharma arises, and not even a single dharma ceases.

It does not depend upon the three realms, does not change according to the six paths, is not altered by ignorance or wisdom, and does not turn according to truth or delusion. Universally pervasive and equal, wholly perfect and complete, it is called the one great Dharma-realm; it is also called the source of responsive teaching and transformation. Those who are deluded cultivate in vain for many kalpas; those who awaken are quiescent on the spot.

Whenever there is desire, one does not see transcendence; whenever there is fabrication, one does not see subtlety. Those who do not see subtlety give rise inwardly to pernicious views; those who do not see transcendence give rise outwardly to the defilements of sense-objects. Because defilements arise outwardly, they are disturbed by demonic objects; because pernicious views arise inwardly, they are deluded by wrong views.

Once inward and outward conditions for arising are present, true oneness conceals itself. Therefore, those who are deluded about transcendence and are defiled according to delusion are called ordinary beings; those who are deluded about defilement and transcend it according to delusion are called followers of the Two Vehicles; those who penetrate the original nature of transcendence are called bodhisattvas; and those who fully understand that the Three Vehicles are not different are called the impartial, true Buddha.

Yet this principle is profound: words cannot reveal it, and forms cannot make it clear. If one seeks to clarify it through forms, one becomes deluded concerning the formless; if one seeks to reveal it through words, one becomes deluded concerning the wordless. Yet if it is neither revealed nor clarified, its great meaning is difficult to comprehend.

Thus, the mysterious Way of transcendence and subtlety and the true principle are difficult to describe. It is called transcendence because its original essence neither combines with phenomena nor departs from them. It is like a bright mirror that reflects the images of the ten thousand forms, while the bright mirror neither combines with the images nor departs from them.

It is also like empty space, which contains everything yet neither combines with nor departs from anything. The five colors cannot defile it, the five sounds cannot disturb it, the ten thousand things cannot bind it, and the myriad phenomena cannot intermingle with it; therefore, it is called transcendence. It is called subtlety because its wondrous essence is without characteristics, form, or color.

It responds and functions in every way, yet its countenance cannot be seen. It possesses all capabilities, yet its virtues do not appear. The eyes look but do not see it; the ears listen but do not hear it.

Yet it inherently possesses functions as numerous as the sands of the Ganges. It is neither permanent nor annihilated, neither separate nor dispersed; therefore, it is called subtlety.

The two words transcendence and subtlety express the essential Dharma of the Way. The perceptions of the six faculties leaving no trace are called transcendence; the ten thousand responsive functions being without self are called subtlety. Subtlety is transcendence, and transcendence is subtlety. In reference to faculties and their objects, two names are provisionally established, but the original essence is one.

Those who study the Way all wish to end afflictions, seek bodhi, abandon the Lesser Vehicle, and enter the Great Vehicle; yet within the wondrous principle, there are truly no such things. Because the essence is transcendent, there are originally no afflictions to end and no Lesser Vehicle to abandon. Because the essence is subtle, there is no bodhi to seek and no Great Vehicle to enter. Why is this so? Because not a single dharma can correspond to it. Therefore, sages neither end delusion nor realize truth; they employ all capabilities responsively without forming an intention. If one truly wishes to seek the Dharma, one must have nothing sought, for ultimate reality is originally nameless. To have no need even to seek it is called wondrous awakening.

Transcendence and subtlety cannot be known by the deluded mind or understood by erroneous wisdom. The deluded mind is the six consciousnesses; erroneous wisdom is the two kinds of wisdom—expedient wisdom and true wisdom. Because the essence is true and one, the two kinds of wisdom cannot understand it; because the essence is no thing, the six consciousnesses cannot know it.

Not a single dharma comes from outside, not a single dharma emerges from within, and not a single dharma arises through combination; therefore, it is called supreme purity and is also called the true essence—the self-nature. Because the essence is free from all views and knowledge, it cannot be measured by consciousness; because the essence is free from every quantity, it cannot be described in words. Therefore, Vimalakirti remained silent, and the Tathagata abided in quiescence.

Although the various Vehicles were taught, they were all skillful means for revealing the Buddha’s knowledge and vision, so that beings might awaken to and enter it.

To speak of knowing is to know detachment; to speak of seeing is to see subtlety. Thus the sutra says, “Seeing subtlety is called Buddha; knowing detachment is called Dharma.” Whenever one knows detachment, one does not fall into any affliction; whenever one sees subtlety, one does not fall into any delusion. When there is no delusion, the one true principle manifests; when there are no afflictions, luminosity arises naturally.

The wondrous meaning of detachment and subtlety is neither one nor two and cannot be expressed in words. Only by deeply investigating it with one’s whole heart can it become clearly present. Students of the Way should not forget the Way of detachment and subtlety and chase after discriminating consciousness.

When words contradict the mind, their meaning and principle are not genuine. If, when facing objects, the mind remains free of intention, and when encountering conditions, it remains unmoved; if one applies oneself without regard for day or night, without concern for activity or stillness, and concentrates the mind in one place, only then can one attain corresponding realization. Whenever there is grasping or rejecting, a deluded notion of something to cultivate, or a deluded notion of something to realize, one cannot enter reality.

This contradicts the meaning of detachment and subtlety and undermines the Dharma of the Great Way.

What is true need not be sought, for there is nothing to attain externally. What is real need not be cultivated, for there is nothing to realize internally. When there is no deluded thought, the Way of detachment and subtlety is immediately present. Detachment is empty openness, while subtlety is wondrous. Because it is empty, nonexistent, quiescent, and still, it is called detachment and subtlety.

The sages are free of deluded thought because they comprehend detachment, and their wondrous functioning is inexhaustible because they thoroughly understand subtlety. Subtlety means having no mind; detachment means having no body. When body and mind have both vanished, numinous wisdom alone remains, cut off from being and nonbeing and severed from subject and object.

The Dharma realm is naturally so, its functioning luminous yet unborn. Thus sages abide in the unconditioned while transforming beings according to their capacities. They employ a teaching that requires no words and silently accords with the true principle.

In quiescence, they perceive no mark of a person; therefore, they merge freely with the great form and encompass the myriad things, just as space pervades everywhere. Deluded people establish a self where there is no self, thereby inwardly giving rise to the inverted view of self. When this inversion arises within, the noble principle is obstructed.

When the noble principle is obstructed, something is established externally. When something is established externally, both inward and outward become obstructed. When inward and outward are obstructed, the principles of things cannot be comprehended; one then deludedly sets in motion the cycle of transmigration.

This confused circulation occurs within quiescent illumination, causing the great form to sink from view and the one truth to become disturbed. When the one truth is disturbed, wrong views deludedly arise, and one consequently drifts through the round of birth and death. For this reason, this treatise on detachment and subtlety is provisionally established to reveal the wondrous essence and functioning of the self-nature.

If students of the Way continue investigating it, they will ultimately understand the source of the false and the real.

The dharmas of form and sound are like shadows and echoes. If shadows and echoes alone are used to reveal the true mark, this cannot yet be regarded as genuine, because the finger is not the moon and words are not the Way. Students should attain the Way and forget the words, see the moon and forget the finger. Thus, those deluded about detachment are demons, for they crave the defilements of sensory objects and willingly submit to birth and death. Those deluded about subtlety are followers of non-Buddhist paths, for they delight in calculating and seeking and deludedly give rise to various views.

Being and nonbeing are the foundation of all views. What is called being? It is the deluded notion that there is something to be done. What is called nonbeing? It is examining and seeing that there is nothing to attain. Once the two attachments to the views of being and nonbeing exist, all other views arise. When these views have arisen, they are wrong and untrue views; hence they are called non-Buddhist paths.

Continuance and cessation are the foundation of birth and death. When the body continues, that is birth; when the body ceases, that is death. Those attached to deluded thoughts delight in external objects, cling tightly to the view that the body is real, and hope to be born in an excellent realm in the future and receive favorable karmic recompense; hence they are called demons.

Whenever one penetrates detachment, one is undefiled by anything. To be undefiled is to transcend the realm of demons. Whenever one penetrates subtlety, everything is quiescent and there is no deluded thought. This is to transcend the many wrong views of non-Buddhist paths. Thus the sutra speaks of “profound wondrous subtlety,” which is not apart from the self-nature.

To speak of subtlety is to be free of all views; to speak of detachment is to be free of defiled attachment. When one is neither defiled nor attached, quiescent cessation is bliss. What is called suffering?

Because one does not understand subtlety, there is inward deliberation; because one does not understand detachment, there is outward reliance. Outward reliance is craving; inward deliberation is conditioning. Once conditioning and craving have arisen, one is driven by demonic objects.

Day and night, one wanders restlessly without even a moment’s respite and willingly submits to the defilements of sensory objects; this is called suffering. What is called bliss? Because one understands subtlety, there is no inward deliberation; because one understands detachment, there is no outward reliance.

No outward reliance means no craving; no inward deliberation means no conditioning. When there is neither conditioning nor craving, one is neither bound by the myriad existents nor driven by the defilements of sensory objects. One is therefore pure, empty, quiescent, and still, without any obstruction.

The self-nature is liberated; this is called bliss.

Detachment is principle; subtlety is the hidden. What is called principle? It is that which is not separate from any thing. What is called the hidden? It is that whose fundamental essence is concealed while its functioning becomes manifest.

Detachment is emptiness; subtlety is existence. Because it is “empty,” it is without marks; because it “exists,” it manifests functioning. Thus neither existence nor emptiness is the true tenet of the myriad dharmas, while neither emptiness nor existence is the father and mother of the myriad things.

When it emerges, it has no direction from which to come; when it enters, it has no place in which to dwell. It encompasses the myriad existents yet undertakes no activity; it transforms the myriad kinds of beings yet is not a lord of Dharma. Therefore, the small chamber is vast and boundless, and a single thought communicates with the myriad beings.

The mind cannot fathom it, and conceptual thought cannot comprehend it. This is called the power and functioning that abide in inconceivable liberation. Why is it called inconceivable?

Because its fundamental essence is originally detached and subtle. Why is it called liberation? Because nothing binds it.

Detachment is Dharma; subtlety is Buddha; the harmonious union of the two is called Sangha. Three names, one essence; one essence, three names. When they merge, they cannot be distinguished; when they return to their source, they once again become nameless.

Detachment is all-embracing capacity; subtlety is functioning. Its capacity embraces defilement, while its functioning is beyond compare. Because its functioning is beyond compare, its wondrous practice constantly transforms beings; because its capacity embraces defilement, it is always mingled among the myriad existents.

Furthermore, having neither eyes nor ears is called detachment; seeing and hearing are called subtlety. No self and no action are called detachment; wisdom and functioning are called subtlety. No mind and no intention are called detachment; unhindered penetration and comprehension are called subtlety.

Furthermore, detachment is nirvana, while subtlety is prajna. Prajna possesses boundless great functioning, while nirvana is quiescent cessation without remainder. Without remainder, afflictions come to an end; through great functioning, the work of teaching and transforming is inexhaustible.

If people do not understand detachment and subtlety, then even if they practice the dhutanga austerities, withdraw from sensory objects, eradicate greed, anger, and delusion, and perfect patience throughout immeasurable kalpas, they still cannot enter reality. Why? Because they remain confined by their dependent and primary karmic recompenses, abide in the notion that there is something to attain, and do not leave behind inverted dreamlike thinking, false awareness, and all views.

If people clearly penetrate detachment and subtlety, then even though habitual tendencies, deluded thoughts, and afflictions continue to manifest, if they remain constantly mindful of the wondrous meaning of detachment and subtlety, before long they will enter the reality of the unsurpassed Way. Why? Because they understand the foundation of right view.

Detachment is spoken of in relation to the six entrances; subtlety is spoken of in relation to the six consciousnesses. If the six are united into one, there is quiescence without any thing. According to the differing attachments of sentient beings, the sages establish various verbal teachings to respond to their capacities and transform them. Yet in the ultimate principle, there are no names or words. It is like space, beyond number and non-number, beyond nature and non-nature, neither one nor different, neither an object nor apart from objects, without entering or emerging, and beyond the mind and consciousness to fathom.

All sutras and treatises accord with the sentiments of ordinary beings in order to break their attachments, and provisionally establish skillful means according to the capacities and levels of sentient beings; none abide in names, characteristics, or phenomena. If one does not abide in names and characteristics, there is no need for any verbal exposition or for the meanings of separation and subtlety. Thus the sutra says, “The Dharma is taught according to what is appropriate; its principles and purport are difficult to understand.” Although the various vehicles are taught, they are merely skillful means to aid sentient beings upon the path, not an ultimately real liberation or nirvana.

It is like a person drawing forms in empty space and producing all manner of sounds: empty space manifests no characteristic whatsoever, nor can any increase, decrease, or alteration be seen in it. The transformation bodies of the Buddhas teaching the Dharma are likewise; in ultimate reality, there is neither sameness nor difference. Thus heaven and earth contain separation, and empty space contains subtlety, while the creative transformations of the myriad things are inexhaustible.

The self-nature possesses spirit; within spirit there is wisdom, and within wisdom there is penetration. There are five kinds of penetration and three kinds of wisdom. What are the five kinds of penetration?

The first is penetration of the Way; the second, spiritual penetration; the third, derivative penetration; the fourth, retributive penetration; and the fifth, uncanny penetration. What is uncanny penetration? When aged insects transform into spirits, enter human bodies, and manifest extraordinary intelligence, this is uncanny penetration.

What is retributive penetration? Knowing the past and future through ghosts and spirits, and manifesting the transformations of heavenly realms, spirits, and dragons—this is retributive penetration. What is derivative penetration?

Knowing by relying upon particular methods, functioning by depending upon the body, coming and going by means of talismans and incantations, and manifesting numinous transformations through the refining of elixirs—this is derivative penetration. What is spiritual penetration? When the purified mind illuminates, knowing the past and future and manifesting all manner of transformations according to the power of samadhi, this is spiritual penetration.

What is penetration of the Way? Responding to beings without a discriminating mind, teaching and transforming the myriad existents according to conditions, and contemplating all dharmas as flowers seen in the sky or the moon’s reflection in water—though perceiving every kind of form and characteristic, one does not grasp them as real. This is called penetration of the Way.

What are the three kinds of wisdom? The first is true wisdom; the second, inner wisdom; and the third, outer wisdom. What is outer wisdom?

When the six faculties discriminate, comprehending the objects of the senses, possessing extensive learning concerning antiquity and the present, and thoroughly understanding worldly matters, this is outer wisdom. What is inner wisdom? Personally awakening from ignorance, severing afflictions, bringing mind and thought to tranquil stillness, and realizing that all is empty—this is inner wisdom.

What is true wisdom? Awakening to the originally quiescent essence, which fundamentally possesses not a single thing; penetrating everywhere; and realizing that purity and defilement are not different—this is true wisdom. Thus true wisdom and penetration of the Way cannot be assigned names; all else is deviant and false.

What is false is not true, and what is deviant is not right. Because the mind gives rise to deluded attachments and is confused about the essential nature, the two provisional names “inner wisdom” and “outer wisdom” are established. If one awakens and enters separation and subtlety, penetrating the myriad existents, then the self-nature is originally true and transcends everything.

To distinguish the deviant from the right and thoroughly discern the true from the false, one must possess the clear illumination of the Dharma-eye before one can attain complete understanding. Yet most people in the world believe in the deviant and false, while those with right faith are very few. The Lesser Vehicle is prevalent, while the Great Vehicle is obstructed; therefore, the wondrous principle is difficult to reveal.

Separation means having no body, while subtlety means having no mind. Because there is no body, there is the great body; because there is no mind, there is the great mind. The great mind pervades the myriad things, while the great body responds fully to every capacity.

If one grasps the body as a body, one loses the great responsiveness; if one grasps the mind as a mind, one loses the great wisdom. Therefore, the thousands upon thousands of sutras and treatises all teach that one must relinquish body and mind and completely destroy attached views and understandings before entering reality. It is like a silversmith refining pure gold: other substances must be removed before genuine gold vessels can be made.

If one grasps the body as truly existent, one is obstructed by “having a body”; when obstructed by having a body, the Dharma-body is concealed within physical form. If one grasps the mind as truly existent, one is obstructed by “having a mind”; when obstructed by having a mind, true wisdom is concealed within thoughts and notions. The six consciousnesses then cause turmoil within, while the six faculties pursue conditions without.

Day and night, one wanders restlessly without respite, causing the wondrous principle to sink into obscurity and the Great Way to remain obstructed.

If one does not contemplate the mind, one does not perceive subtlety; if one does not contemplate the body, one does not perceive separation. If one does not perceive separation and subtlety, one loses the essential Dharma of the Way. Thus the Diamond Sutra says, “The Buddha teaches that it is not a body; therefore, it is called the great body.” This is its meaning.

To relinquish provisional teachings—skillful means adapted to circumstances—and return to reality, and to relinquish the false and return to the true, is like a silversmith taking many golden objects and casting them into a single image: the various forms are extinguished and blended into one. This is the great smelting—many metal objects being cast together in a single furnace. The great smelting refers to the Great Way.

Within the casting furnace of the Great Way, creation and transformation are inexhaustible, producing thousands upon thousands of vessels. Whether they come into being or perish, the fundamental essence neither increases nor decreases. Thus the sutra says, “Whether Buddhas exist or do not exist, nature and characteristics eternally abide.” The reason the fusion of characteristics—many characteristics merging into one—is taught is that ordinary beings cling to characteristics and fear the absence of characteristics.

The reason characteristics are taught is that non-Buddhists cling to the absence of characteristics and fear the presence of characteristics. The reason the Middle Way is taught is to enable one to realize that the presence and absence of characteristics are not different. Whatever can be expressed in words is not the true principle; all such teachings are merely intended to break attachments and eliminate doubts.

If someone fully awakens to the Real Characteristic, in which there is not a single dharma, which is equal and nondual, neither grasping nor rejecting, neither that nor this, nor anything in between, then without relying upon the words of the sages, the true principle becomes clear of itself.

When characteristics are regarded as being without characteristics, characteristics themselves are without characteristics. Thus the sutra says, “Form itself is emptiness.” It is not that form is used to extinguish emptiness. It is like water flowing silently: when struck by the wind, it produces foam.

The foam itself is water; it is not that foam is used to extinguish water. When the absence of characteristics is regarded as characteristics, the absence of characteristics itself is characteristics. The sutra says, “Emptiness itself is form.” It is not that emptiness is used to extinguish form.

As emptiness is inexhaustible, form is also inexhaustible. It is like dissolving foam into water: the water itself is the foam, for foam does not exist apart from water. Those who delight in characteristics fear the absence of characteristics because they do not know that characteristics themselves are without characteristics.

Those who delight in the absence of characteristics fear characteristics because they do not know that the absence of characteristics itself is characteristics. In truth, both characteristics and the absence of characteristics are entirely within the self-nature. One who awakens to this is called a Buddha.

Once one awakens, deluded thoughts do not arise; if delusion does not arise, the fundamental essence is originally true and real.

The characteristic of the absence of characteristics is called separation, because the fundamental essence of separation is originally without characteristics. The absence of characteristics within characteristics is called subtlety, because the fundamental essence of subtlety is not the absence of characteristics. Therefore, a practitioner of the Way feels no joy in life and no sorrow in death.

Why? Because life is drifting and death is repose; life is regarded as an illusory transformation, and death as reality. Thus the sutra says, “Birth is merely a dharma arising; cessation is merely a dharma ceasing.” Regarding these dharmas, each knows nothing of the others.

At the time of birth, it does not say, “I am born”; at the time of cessation, it does not say, “I cease.” This is because great wisdom is without knowing, great awakening is without awakening, and the principle of ultimate reality is empty—in the true meaning of the self-nature, it is originally empty. It cannot be assigned a name or established as a characteristic. Therefore, nirvana is the great quiescence, prajna is without knowing, the Dharma-body is perfect and complete, and all measurable forms and characteristics are quiescent and extinguished.

THE CHAPTER ON THE EMPTY AND MYSTERIOUS ORIGINAL LIMIT

(Third)

(The fundamental essence of the self-nature is originally empty and wondrous; therefore, it is called the empty and mysterious original limit.)

To speak of the original limit is to speak of the unobstructed nirvana-nature of all sentient beings. How, then, could deluded mind and all these various inversions suddenly arise? It is only because of a single thought of delusion.

This deluded thought arises from “one,” and “one” arises from the inconceivable. To speak of the inconceivable means that there is no place from which it arises. Therefore, the Sutra says, “The beginning of the Way gives birth to one.” “One” is the unconditioned.

From one, two are born. “Two” is the deluded mind: because there is a mind that knows the one, there are a knowing subject and a known object, and thus it is divided into two. From two arise yin and yang.

Yin and yang also mean movement and stillness. Yang is clear, while yin is turbid. The clear qi, empty within, is mind; the turbid qi, congealed without, is form.

Thus there come to be the two dharmas of mind and form. Mind corresponds to yang, and yang corresponds to movement; form corresponds to yin, and yin corresponds to stillness. Stillness communicates with the mysterious feminine—the wondrous matrix without substantial reality—and thus heaven and earth unite.

All sentient beings are born by receiving the empty qi of yin and yang. Therefore, from one arise two; from two arise three; and from three arise the myriad dharmas. Since mind comes to exist through conditions based upon the unconditioned, and form in turn comes to exist through conditions based upon mind, the Sutra says, “From mind arise myriad thoughts; from form arise myriad kinds of beings.” The various combinations of mind and form become karmic causes and thereby form the seeds of the three realms.

Why are there three realms? Because the mind that clings to reality is taken as their root. When this clinging mind is deluded regarding true oneness, evil turbidity gives rise to delusive qi.

The clear and tranquil aspect of this delusive qi becomes the formless realm, also called mind. The active manifestation of turbid qi becomes the form realm, also called body. The agitated dregs of evil turbidity become the desire realm, also called the realm of sensory objects.

Therefore, the Sutra says, “The three realms are delusive, unreal, and brought forth solely through the transformations of a single thought of deluded mind.” When “one” arises within, the unconditioned appears without. When “two” arise within, the conditioned appears without. When “three” arise within, the three realms appear without.

Once inner and outer correspond to each other, the various dharmas and afflictions as numerous as the sands of the Ganges arise. If “one” does not arise, there is no unconditioned; if someone says, “I have realized the unconditioned,” that is delusion. If “two” do not arise, there is no conditioned; if someone says, “I have realized the conditioned,” that is delusion.

If “three” do not arise, there are no three realms; if someone says that the three realms truly exist, that is delusion. Therefore, the Sutra says, “Where there is existence, there is suffering; where there is no existence, there is nirvana.” Although the sravakas realize the fruit, their unconditioned state still has a remainder. Even bodhisattvas of the Tenth Ground retain the subtle obstruction of fundamental ignorance.

Thus “one” is called the unconditioned, “two” the conditioned, and “three” the three realms. There are two kinds of the unconditioned: first, the unconditioned realized through cessation; second, the unconditioned that is the original nature. The unconditioned realized through cessation refers to the noble ones who cultivate the Way, sever obstructions, and realize the suchness of the original essence.

Therefore, the Sutra says, “All sages and noble ones are distinguished by virtue of the unconditioned Dharma.” The unconditioned that is the original nature refers to the foundation of Dharma-nature, which has always been thus. It is neither cultivated nor realized; it is neither fashioned by persons nor attained through conformity with a dharma. Persons and dharmas are originally empty, and the essence of ultimate truth is pure.

Therefore, the Sutra says, “The wondrous principle of true reality is neither conditioned nor unconditioned, neither this shore nor the other shore, nor does it abide in between.” Because it is not conditioned, it cannot be cultivated or studied; because it is not unconditioned, it cannot be realized through cessation. If there are cultivation and realization, then the original nature is not originally unconditioned. Therefore, the Sutra says, “All things take non-arising as their tenet.” If the tenet does not arise, then even non-arising does not arise.

Since non-arising itself does not arise, it cannot be seized through realization. Why? Wherever there is realization, there is arising; where there is no realization, there is non-arising.

This is also to accord with the self-nature.

To speak of non-arising is to speak of the original limit, which neither emerges nor enters and is like empty space, with nothing by which it may be compared. It is only because all conditioned dharmas are delusive and unreal, provisionally established through mutual causes and conditions, that arising and cessation exist. If their source is investigated to its utmost, they ultimately return to true reality.

Yet all sentient beings, having lost the foundation, seek outwardly and willingly endure hardship. Though they cultivate for many kalpas, they do not awaken to the true nature. Therefore, if one seeks the branches by taking the root as the basis, the delusive branches are not true; if one seeks the root by taking the branches as the basis, the empty root is not real.

The root need not be sought. Why? Because the root does not seek itself, just as gold does not seek gold.

The branches need not be cultivated. Why? Because delusion does not seek delusion, just as a clod of earth cannot become gold.

The dharmas of body and mind are delusive and unreal, yet most people in the world arduously cultivate body and mind in search of the Way. This is like seeking gold in a clod of earth. If body and mind were themselves the Way, why would the noble ones speak of transcending body and mind?

Therefore, know that they are not the Way. The true essence also need not be cultivated. Why?

Because the self-nature contains no duality.

The noble ones manifest life without truly existing and death without becoming nonexistent. They have no deluded mind of grasping or rejecting. Though they pass through tens of thousands of births and deaths, they merely follow the natural course of Dharma-nature without giving rise to discriminating thought. At that time, there is neither self nor no-self. Ordinary beings, because they harbor deluded thoughts and confusion within their minds, give rise to various views and understandings. Because these are not genuine, the self-nature cannot become manifestly clear.

The original limit of the self-nature is pure, subtle, wondrous, and profound, originally undefiled. All the various discourses of the sages and noble ones are teachings spoken in accordance with beings’ capacities. In truth, to speak of what is genuine or not genuine, of teaching or not teaching, is merely to establish provisional designations according to circumstances. The original limit is originally nameless. Yet names are imposed upon the nameless original limit, and names are imposed upon the signless original limit. Once names and characteristics are established, deluded thoughts immediately arise; from that point, true oneness is buried and the Great Way is concealed.

The original limit of the nameless pervades everything. It has no name, transcends all measure, and is neither one nor two. Therefore, the sutra says, “The profusion of myriad phenomena is sealed by the one Dharma.” This seal is the original limit.

Yet the principle of the original limit is neither self nor other, neither one nor many. It contains the one vital essence—self-nature—and encompasses all that exists. If a person’s self-nature is pure, embracing the One and arising without false thoughts, that person is a sage.

If one is deluded about oneself and confusedly gives rise to false thoughts, one is an ordinary being. In truth, however, there is neither sage nor ordinary being, for sages and ordinary beings are not different. Therefore, the sutra says, “Buddha-nature is equal, vast, and difficult to fathom.

Sages and ordinary beings are nondual; all is perfectly complete.” Trees, grasses, mosquitoes, and ants are all inherently complete; even a single mote of dust or a single hair contains the One and thereby exists. Therefore, the sutra says, “Once the One is fully understood, the myriad affairs are all accomplished.” Because all sentient beings arise from the One Vehicle, the Buddha Vehicle is called the One Vehicle. For one who awakens, there is oneness; for one who is deluded, there is difference.

The sutra says, “The preceding thought is ordinary; the succeeding thought is holy.” It also says, “In a single thought, know all dharmas.” Thus, the One is all, and all is the One. Through the functioning of the one Dharma, the myriad phenomena are brought to completion. Therefore, the sutra says, “If all things exist, having mind is delusion; if all things do not exist, being without mind pervades the ten directions.” Thus, the true One has myriad distinctions, and the myriad distinctions are themselves the true One.

It is like the ocean giving rise to a thousand waves: the thousand waves are precisely the ocean. Therefore, all is One, without difference.

The One is spoken of in relation to difference. Since difference is not truly difference, the One is likewise not truly One. It is neither one nor not-one; “the true One” is provisionally established.

If the true One were established, it would have to be expressed through written words and speech. Thus, seeing the One as something apart from non-oneness entails an object of seeing; wherever there is something seen, there is duality. This cannot be called the true One, nor can it be called knowing the One.

If one uses the One to know the One, this is called duality, not oneness. If there is something known, there must be non-knowing. Knowing and not knowing thus constitute duality.

Therefore, great wisdom is without knowing, yet there is nothing it does not know. It knows vividly and constantly; this constant knowing that is without knowing is provisionally called “knowing.” It is neither self nor what belongs to self, neither mind nor thought. If a dharma is conditioned, there is something known.

If a dharma is unconditioned, like empty space, without boundary or limit, then there is neither knowing nor not knowing.

The reason the sages speak of knowing is that where there is mind and enumeration, activity and dharmas, knowing is possible. The reason they speak of non-knowing is that where there is neither mind nor enumeration, neither activity nor dharmas, knowing is impossible. If one uses knowing to know knowing, there is no place where this can be correct. It is like a person who speaks of emptiness all day long: it is merely the person who speaks, not “emptiness” that speaks. Using knowing to know non-knowing is likewise so. The reason a sage may say, “I know,” is to address delusion and dispel the doubts of those afflicted by attachment to reality. In truth, knowing and non-knowing are not two.

Non-knowing is taught because ordinary beings do not fully comprehend the true One. They cling to self and what belongs to self, and with their deluded minds they calculate and discriminate between a knowing subject and a known object. Therefore, non-knowing and nondiscrimination are taught.

Upon hearing this, ordinary beings immediately imitate non-knowing, becoming like dull-witted people incapable of discrimination. Therefore, for those caught in falsity, the sages say that the Tathagata knows and sees with perfect clarity and is not unknowing. Upon hearing this, ordinary beings immediately imitate knowing.

Once knowing is posited, they are obstructed by knowing. This is false knowing, also called deluded knowing. Such knowing takes them ever farther from the Way.

Therefore, the sutra says, “Sentient beings draw near to evil spiritual friends and foster evil knowledge and views.”

Why is this so? Followers of non-Buddhist paths who possess supernormal powers may know the past and future of body and mind; yet because their bodies and minds are impure, they cannot escape birth and death. Those who study non-knowing all abandon knowing to cultivate non-knowing, yet they do not understand that non-knowing is itself knowing.

Those who abandon non-knowing to cultivate knowing do not understand that where there is knowing, there is awareness; where there is awareness, mind and thought arise in myriad conceptions, and they cannot depart from suffering. The two views of knowing and non-knowing are both incapable of according with the principle of suchness and therefore cannot reach the place of truth. The place of truth is originally free from both knowing and non-knowing, for it transcends every measure.

Whenever there is seeing, there is a direction; whenever there is hearing, there is an object; whenever there is awareness, there is mind; whenever there is knowing, there is measure. If one fully comprehends that the original limit is fundamentally without direction or location, without mind or measure, then there is no seeing, hearing, awareness, or knowing. The true One has no duality, yet it manifests differences. It is like a person who recollects the Buddha and the Buddha appears, or recollects the Sangha and the Sangha appears. In truth, however, it is neither Buddha nor non-Buddha, yet it appears as Buddha; likewise, it is neither Sangha nor non-Sangha, yet it appears as Sangha.

Why is this? Because the person who recollects has a hopeful mind wishing for an appearance, and thus, without realizing it, the appearance emerges from that person’s own mind. The manifestations of sages and worthies arise through causes and conditions and always differ according to external circumstances. In truth, the Buddha and the Sangha are not different. Therefore, the sutra says, “Those who see the physical bodies and lands of the Buddhas perceive them as measurable, but the unobstructed wisdom of self-nature is immeasurable.”

It is like an illusionist performing illusions in empty space. According to the strength of the illusion, all manner of forms are conjured, and the ignorant believe that these things truly exist within empty space. Those who recollect the Buddha and the Sangha are likewise so: within the emptiness of dharmas, through the power of mental recollection, they conjure all manner of forms and appearances and then deludedly give rise to views and attachments concerning them. Therefore, the sutra says, “The mind is like an illusionist, thought is like the illusionist’s assistant, the five consciousnesses are companions, and false thinking is the spectator.”

It is like a person who makes molds in a foundry. Square or round, large or small, their forms accord with the person’s wishes. Molten gold is poured into the molds to produce images, and the images take shape according to those wishes. In truth, the essential nature of pure gold is neither image nor non-image, yet it appears as an image. Those who recollect the Buddha and the Sangha are likewise so.

The goldsmith is an analogy for the Tathagata’s great wisdom; the molds are an analogy for the Dharma-body of sentient beings. Because beings inwardly aspire to behold the Buddha, through the causes and conditions of mindfulness of the Buddha, bodies bearing all manner of characteristics appear to them, yet they do not know that the Dharma-body is neither characteristic nor non-characteristic. Why is it called non-characteristic?

Because it originally has no fixed characteristic. Why is it called not non-characteristic? Because the various characteristics arise through dependent origination.

The Dharma-body is neither manifest nor unmanifest; it transcends nature and the absence of nature, is neither existent nor nonexistent, and is neither mind nor thought. It cannot be measured by comparison or fathomed by reasoning. Ordinary beings follow their deluded thoughts and suppose that they see the Buddha.

From time immemorial, they have clung to the belief that a real Buddha exists outside the mind, not knowing that the Buddha exists as a deluded manifestation of their own minds. Alternatively, to say that there is no Buddha outside the mind is to slander the true Dharma. Therefore, the Sutra says: “The realm of the noble ones transcends both existence and nonexistence and cannot be measured.” If one clings to real existence or real nonexistence, one falls into the two extremes; this too is false delusion.

Why? Because deludedly giving rise to the two views contradicts the truth. It is like a person in a storehouse of golden objects who sees only the gold and does not see the various forms; even when seeing the forms, that person sees them merely as gold.

Not being deluded by the forms, that person is free from discrimination and constantly sees the fundamental substance of gold, and therefore is not deceived. This illustrates how noble ones constantly contemplate true oneness and do not see the various characteristics; even when seeing the various characteristics, they see them as true oneness. Far removed from deluded thought and free from inversion, they abide in ultimate reality and are therefore called noble ones.

By contrast, a person in a storehouse of golden objects may continually see the various forms but fail to see that their fundamental substance is gold. Deludedly giving rise to all manner of views and discriminating between good and bad, that person loses sight of the nature of gold, and disputes consequently arise. This illustrates ordinary beings, who continually see material forms—male and female, ugly and beautiful, and all manner of distinctions.

Deluded about their fundamental nature and attached to mental characteristics, they falsely give rise to love and hate, grasping and rejection. With inverted views, they revolve in the cycle of birth and death, assuming one body after another, while a profusion of deluded thoughts obscures true oneness. Therefore, only practitioners who possess the Way, comprehend the Buddha-Dharma, and remain far removed from all views can accord with the Way and conform to true oneness.

True oneness is difficult to describe and must be revealed through analogies; in truth, the ultimate principle of the Way cannot be expressed in words. If one regards the eye as an eye, the inversion concerning the eye arises; if one regards the eye as no-eye, the inversion concerning no-eye arises. Both are deluded thoughts.

If one clings to the existence of the eye, one is deluded concerning no-eye; because of clinging to the existence of the eye, wondrous seeing cannot penetrate freely. Therefore, the Sutra says, “No eye, no form.” If one clings to no-eye, one is deluded concerning the eye; because of clinging to no-eye, one loses the true eye, like a blind person unable to distinguish colors. Therefore, the Sutra says, “Just as those whose six faculties are impaired cannot experience the five sensual pleasures.” The shravakas are likewise.

Only the Tathagata possesses the true divine eye, constantly abides in right samadhi, and universally beholds all Buddha-lands. Because the Tathagata is free from dual characteristics, this seeing is unlike what ordinary beings see; because it sees universally, it differs from the non-seeing of the shravakas. The “two views” are the deluded views of existence and nonexistence, but the fundamental substance of true oneness is neither existent nor nonexistent; existence and nonexistence are established solely by deluded thought.

Thus, noble ones sometimes say, “I see with perfect clarity,” and sometimes say that they do not see. They speak of seeing and not seeing only in accordance with the illness in order to break attachment. In truth, the wondrous principle of true oneness transcends seeing and not seeing, surpassing noble and ordinary beings as well as all measurement; therefore, it is seen with perfect clarity and is not illusory.

Because it is not a material dharma, the physical eye cannot see it; because it is not a dharma to be realized, the Dharma-eye cannot see it. Only the pure Buddha-eye, which neither sees nor does not see, sees it with perfect clarity. It cannot be fathomed by reasoning or measured by comparison.

Ordinary beings have no share in it; the two vehicles attain only a small share; bodhisattvas see it in its entirety, but indistinctly. Thus one should know that Buddha-nature is difficult to see. Nevertheless, the Sutra says, “Buddha-nature universally pervades all, without distinction between noble and ordinary beings.” Those who study the Way need only thoroughly investigate true oneness within themselves; why seek it outside?

If they apply themselves day and night without cease, they will ultimately attain personal realization and awakening. Therefore, the Sutra says, “Contemplate the true characteristic of the body; contemplation of the Buddha is likewise.” To contemplate the true characteristic of the body is to contemplate the one characteristic. The one characteristic is no-characteristic.

Because no-characteristic is without characteristic, it is neither defiled nor pure, neither ordinary nor noble, neither existent nor nonexistent, neither wrong nor right. Its essential nature eternally abides, neither arising nor ceasing; this is the original limit. Why can the Tathagata’s six faculties function interchangeably?

Because, upon realizing true oneness, which is beyond measure and boundary, the Dharma-body is empty and unobstructed in all respects. Why can the six faculties of ordinary beings not function interchangeably? Because deluded thought and discrimination cause each faculty to be separated from the others.

Their spiritual capacity is limited and becomes bounded; because they are deluded about true oneness, their faculties cannot function interchangeably. Therefore, the Sutra says, “Because ordinary beings possess deluded thoughts, they are confused and lack penetration. Clinging to faculties and their objects, they give rise to all manner of distinctions.

Noble ones comprehend true oneness and possess no deluded mind that separates faculties from their objects. Because their minds are beyond measure, their faculties can function alike.”

What is called true oneness? “True” means undifferentiated. Because it is undifferentiated, the myriad things contain the one and arise. To speak of the myriad things is also to speak of the one. Why? Because their fundamental substance is originally one; one means nondual. It is just as agarwood is agarwood and not a poisonous tree. True Oneness has many names; although it has many names, they all share the same meaning. It may be called Dharma-nature or Dharma-body, or true suchness, ultimate reality, space, Buddha-nature, nirvana, Dharma-realm, original limit, or Tathagata-garbha. Its innumerable names are all alternative designations for true oneness and share one meaning. The principles of these three sections are all thus.

Why is it called the Section on Vast Illumination? Because the illumination of great wisdom extends boundlessly everywhere, like the sun of wisdom shining perfectly, encompassing the principles of all things and illuminating the myriad living beings; therefore, it is called Vast Illumination. Why is it called the Section on Transcending Subtlety?

Because intrinsic nature inherently contains true transcendence and reaches the wondrous source to its utmost depth; ultimate reality is empty, originally pure and undefiled. Therefore, it is called Transcending Subtlety. Why is it called the Section on the Original Limit?

Because its wondrous principle is naturally true and its fundamental substance radiantly illuminates. It is not produced through cultivation; its nature is originally empty yet inherently contains the myriad things. Therefore, it is called the Original Limit.

Intrinsic nature is nondual. Although the exposition of its principle is divided into three sections, when brought together they have only one meaning. Although there is but one meaning, its functions are inexhaustible.

The general title, the Treasury of Reality, is intended to discuss the fundamental source of the nature that apprehends things, elucidate the meaning of the manifold phenomena, and reveal the empty, penetrating, vast, and pure reality that silently accords with the wondrous principle. Those who know that it is inherently complete accord in their own essence with true oneness; those who realize it naturally penetrate the profound purport.

Thus this treatise was established to elucidate the principle of the suchness of the Dharma-realm and reveal the essential Dharma of the Great Way.