Cracking the Walnut, page 9
已去中無發
未去中無發
去時中無發
何處當有發
In all three times of going—past, future, and present—we cannot find a starting point for the going. Take, for instance, a novice monastic. We say that their novitiate will begin at the time of the ordination ceremony—for example, the morning of January 26. Examining this closely, we see that the ordinees have already begun to be novices. In the same way, though people assign a date to their birth, they actually began before that date. As far as the novice is concerned, the conditions that will allow them to ordain on a particular day have been there since the beginning of time. Who can find the beginning? We say that we ordained and shaved our head on the 26th of January, but that is only an outer sign. When we look deeply we see that we have been ordained since the beginning of time. The merit of our parents and ancestors has a great deal to do with our journey to become a monk or a nun. The beginning is already found in the conditions, and so to say that we began on a certain day or in a certain place is not correct.
13. When going you do not begin to go,
nor do you begin to go when you have already gone.
If the beginning is not found in these two cases
how can you begin to go before you have gone?
未發無去時
亦無有已去
是二應有發
未去何有發
Before the going starts, how can there be the time of going? And while the going is taking place, there is no starting to go. Neither when you have gone nor while going is happening can you find the starting point. In these two things (having gone and going) you cannot find the starting point. So how can you find the starting point in something that has not yet gone?
14. When going you do not begin to go,
nor do you begin to go when you have already gone.
If the beginning is not found in these two cases,
how can you begin to go before you have gone?
無去無未去
亦復無去時
一切無有發
何故而分別
In the three times—the going (the present), the gone (the past), and the not yet gone (the future)—we cannot find the beginning of the act of going, which would be the sign of the coming into existence of that act. If we cannot find it, why do we have this notion of beginning—the sign of coming into existence—in our heads at all? If in the three times we do not find what we call a beginning, then how can we give rise to the idea of the three times being separate (vikalpyate)? How can we give rise to ideas of the three times at all?
When we contemplate the four signs of arising, abiding, decaying, and ending, we are in touch with the realities of no-self and of impermanence. When we look deeply into the truth of no-self and impermanence in what is happening at each moment of our arising, abiding, decaying, and ending, we discover that the one who arises, abides, decays, and ends is a constantly changing entity. What (or who) arises? What (or who) endures? What (or who) decays? What (or who) ends? Once we have discovered the true nature of the actor in this play, all these questions will be answered, and we will be free from the notions concerning these four signs.
If we look at a flame, we see that all the conditions are sufficient for the flame to arise and to continue. The continuation of the flame is assured by the fuel. If the flame does not continue, we say that it ends. In fact the flame does not end (i.e., become nothing) and does not arise (from nothing). It relies on conditions to manifest. When the flame has manifested, we witness what is called the manifestation of the flame. Is that flame the actor? Is it, as the actor, a reality separate from the action?
We say that the flame has been lit, but if it is not lit it is not a flame! When the one who goes is not going, they cannot be called a goer. We cannot conceive of a flame that is not lit. We have to see its self-nature before it becomes a lit flame, which means we have to see its presence in the conditions that help it manifest.
We can put a candle on the table and let it burn for two or three hours. Because of a deluded perception we think that the flame has begun to manifest at the time we lit it and that it then continues as the same flame, not a different one. However, if we remember the moment the match helped the flame to manifest we will see that as we lit the candle, it seemed there was a second flame. There was the flame of the match and, now, the flame of the candle. After we light the candle we put out the match flame. We can ask ourselves, are the two flames the same flame or two different flames? The flame of the match was transmitted to the candle flame, but are those two flames the same or different? We cannot say that they are completely the same, nor can we say that they are entirely different. It is easy to see that the flame is not one, because there was a moment when it manifested as two—but we cannot be certain that there are now two separate flames.
The true nature of things—that is their nirvāṇa nature—is not sameness or difference. We can see the not-same-not-different nature of the flame by observing that the flame, having manifested on the match, now manifests on the candle. However, people who did not see the match flame and only now see the candle flame will say, even after watching the candle flame for an hour, that there is only one flame. They can only see the sameness of the flame; they cannot see the difference. If they were to look carefully, they would see that the wax and the oxygen are different at every instant. In the light of impermanence we see that nothing can last for two milliseconds and still be considered to be the same thing. When we see impermanence we see nonself.
Saying “the flame is lit” is like saying “the goer goes.” The goer is not an unchanging reality. In our mind that person, the goer, is always that person; in fact, the goer is a reality that is constantly changing. The nature of the flame is, like the goer, neither the same nor different.
The goer referred to in the verses is a person we think of as an unchanging reality. We have not understood the nature of the goer or of the action of going. The teaching of not the same or different helps us understand the teaching of no birth and no death. When we say birth, there must be something that is born. When we say death, there must be something that dies. Therefore we have to establish a subject or an agent to do the described action. There is the action of coming and going, and so there has to be a comer and a goer. Looking deeply into the nature of the comer and the goer we see the nature of emptiness, because the comer and the goer are a collection of conditions. The same is true of the flame; it is not a separate entity. It is not a subject waiting to perform the action of being lit or not being lit. We should look into the starting point of the flame to see that it is not coming into being out of nothing, and to see that at the moment it goes into hiding it does not go from being into nothingness.
In New York there were the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Before they were blown up and collapsed they were a familiar scene for the people who walked past them every day. After the collapse, something was missing for New Yorkers when they walked past that place. When did the twin towers come into existence such that now we say they have gone out of existence? We see that there is arrival and departure, and that in that arrival and departure we experience pleasure, joy, and suffering. We cannot see the nature of arrival and departure because we cannot see clearly the arriver and the goer. When we can see the original face of arriving and going we are no longer caught in the signs or appearance of arrival and departure.
In this chapter Nāgārjuna teaches about going but we learn about both arriving and going. If we understand the nature of going (ending), we also understand the nature of arriving (arising), abiding, and decaying. Impermanence and no-self are the basic teachings of the Buddha. The meditation practice of impermanence and no-self is the basic Buddhist meditation. Insight into impermanence and no-self helps us become free of signs of arising, abiding, decaying, and ending. When we are free of these signs we can be in touch with the ultimate reality, or nirvāṇa.
In the first chapter of the Verses on the Middle Way the author uses no-birth to teach us to see the nature of being. In the second chapter, the topic is not-gone (not-arrived, not-gone). One question people often have and sometimes put into words, is: “What happens when I die?” Whether we express it or not, we all have this question. What will become of me when I die? In this question there are three things we can meditate on. There is the word “I,” which is the person who goes, there is the word “die,” which refers to the action of going, and there is the word “when,” which refers to the time of going. When we contemplate these three words in the light of impermanence and no-self, we realize what Nāgārjuna is teaching. Some people answer this question—and I see that it is a good answer—by saying that when you die, you don’t die. That is the truth. When we can comprehend the nature of the one who goes and of the action of going, it is clear that there is no death or departure from this life. There is only transformation and going into hiding.
Say you are looking at a sheet of paper in terms of the signs arising, abiding, decaying, and ending. The moment when it arose in the form of a sheet of paper is called arising. After that it will abide for some time, which is called abiding. When you tear it up and it no longer has the form of a sheet of paper, it is decaying, and when you burn it, it is ending. It can have these four signs. When you look carefully at a sheet of paper, what do you see? You see trees in a forest. You see the trees, using your eyes of meditation. If there were no trees, how could there be paper? Without looking deeply you cannot see this, but someone who looks deeply can see the trees—even if they do not think of themselves as a meditation practitioner. Looking at the paper you must see the cloud in it. If you have not yet seen the cloud in it, you have not truly seen the sheet of paper. Without clouds there would be no rain, and without rain trees cannot grow. From a scientific point of view, you can be certain that the cloud is present in the sheet of paper. Looking at the paper, you must see the sun. Without the sun how can trees grow?
When you look at a sheet of paper you need to see signs other than the sign “paper.” Only Dharma eyes can see these other signs. Our ordinary eyes do not see them. All of us have Dharma eyes. In our daily life we use our eyes of flesh and blood, but the Buddha and Thầy have transmitted the Dharma eyes to us. In our daily life we should know how to use our Dharma eyes to see the signless nature of a sheet of paper. Let us not be caught in the sign “paper,” and instead see all the non-paper signs in the paper. These include the forest, clouds, the sun, soil, etc. We have to see a myriad of non-paper signs in order to see the paper correctly. If we see the sign paper as something separate from the non-paper signs, we have not seen the true nature of the paper. When we burn a piece of paper, we are also burning the forest and the cloud. The fire is just another condition, which we can call an opposing condition or supporting condition depending on how we look at it. If the piece of paper wants to be a cloud, the flame will be a supporting condition, because once it is burned it will be a cloud. If the piece of paper wants to continue as a piece of paper, the fire is an opposing condition.
We say that the piece of paper has gone, but we should ask: Where did it go? The truth is, the piece of paper has let go of the sign paper; it has gone into hiding. It is no longer manifesting as the sign paper, but it has begun to manifest as other signs. If we look deeply, we shall be able to recognize them.
While the paper is burning, we see that there is the sign “heat.” Before it burned we did not think that the paper had the heat sign, but in the paper there is the heat sign because paper is a fuel. The heat from the piece of paper, even though it is a miniscule amount, goes into the hand of the one who lights it, into others, and into this universe. Now the piece of paper is in the universe, in space, time, and in the one who lit it. To say that the paper has gone from being into nothingness is completely wrong.
The piece of paper also manifests the new sign of smoke. The smoke rises and, though our eyes no longer see the paper, one of the paper’s new signs is smoke. The smoke sign becomes part of a cloud. One day, when a drop of rain falls on your head, you and the piece of paper will be reunited. The ashes are also a new manifestation of the paper.
Manifestation can always be seen in the light of impermanence and no-self. It is wholly incorrect for a meditator to say that something that exists becomes nothing. From a scientific point of view it is also incorrect. Nothing can go from being into nonbeing, just as nothing can come from nonbeing into being. If we recognize this truth, we recognize that there is no birth and no death. When we recognize no birth and no death, we recognize no arriving and no going. The Buddha teaches: when conditions are sufficient, something manifests; it does not come from anywhere. When conditions are no longer favorable, it ceases to manifest, but it does not go anywhere. If you say that something goes at a certain time or to a certain place, you are caught in ideas such as being and nonbeing, birth and death, coming and going.
When we are asked “What happens when you die?” we could say “Nothing happens! When you die, you don’t die at all.” Often people are afraid that when they die they will become nothing—that there will be nothing of them left—but in life there is only change and manifestation. There is no being or nonbeing. For example, when we heat cold water, after one or two minutes the cold water will not be cold water anymore, but this does not mean that the water no longer exists. The temperature of the water rises gradually, and at the boiling point the water becomes steam. If water is not water, it is steam, clouds, or snow. It goes in a cycle like this. If we look deeply to see this continuity of manifestation, we shall see that the water, just like a Buddha, has the nature of no-birth and no-death.
Therefore the question “What happens when we die?” can only be answered when we look deeply into three things: the goer, the act of going, and the time of going. If we do not look deeply, we might wrongly say: “He will be reborn in the realm of the gods! He will no longer need to be in this world.” That is just hypothesis and speculation. In order to answer the question of “what happens when we die” we have to reexamine our notions regarding the one who goes, the act of going, and the time of going. As we reexamine them, we shall see that the teachings on no birth and no death and on no coming and no going are connected to the teaching on no same and no different. The teaching on no same and no different helps us to understand no coming and no going and no birth and no death.
Generally, when we look at a flame we think it is simply a flame. We do not know that this flame is formed by a million flames coming one after the other. Rather than the one flame that we imagine, the nature of all these flames is that they are neither the same nor different. When we see the goer in this light, we are no longer caught in our idea of someone who is going. When we are not caught in the idea of someone who is going, we are also not caught in the idea of going and the idea of a time of going. All our sadness and fear vanish and we become free when we realize that birth and death are not a reality but just an idea. According to conventional truth there seems to be birth and death, but when we are able to tear apart the net of conventional truth and go deep into the reality of the ultimate truth we touch the nature of no birth and no death, no arriving and no going. At that point we are free from the sadness and fear of loss that come with ideas of arriving and going, arising and ending, remaining and loss.
How can we apply this teaching in our daily life? There are countless ways. Take, for example, someone who hates and harbors a grudge against their father or their mother. They are not able to experience ease and happiness in their life as others do because they always hold on to their grudge. How can you help them to remove their anger? When someone hates their mother, they do not want to think about her. They want to dissociate themselves from her because she wounded them and made them suffer. Other people may have sweet mothers, but because their own mother is unkind, ungrateful, and cruel they do not love and respect her. They are distressed and cling to their distress for their whole life, finding no way out of the situation. They nurture resentment; they are angry, and their mother is the object of their anger. They do not want to identify themselves with the object of their anger and they declare, “I’m not my mother.” Many young people who have suffered because of their mother will declare: “I hate her! I don’t want to have anything to do with her!”
In the light of Nāgārjuna’s way of looking deeply you see clearly that you and your mother, although you are not the same, are also not different. The nature of your mother and the nature of yourself are not the same, not different—in other words, you are the continuation of your mother. You cannot take your mother out of yourself. It is just like the candle flame. It could think its mother—that is, the match flame—is an entirely different flame from itself. That is incorrect. The nature of the flame is not the same and not different. If there were no match flame, there could be no candle flame. The candle flame is the very continuation of the match flame. Children are all the continuation of their mother. If you are angry with your mother and you do not want to have anything to do with her, it is utterly irrational and naïve. A daughter who is angry with and hates her mother does not know that she carries within herself the entirety of her mother, including her mother’s imperfections. If she does not practice, in the future she will behave just as her mother did and in doing so will make her children and others suffer. This is the simple truth! It happens because of ignorance; if someone can look deeply, they will realize understanding and love.
Toward the end of the twentieth century in Europe, the elm tree met a catastrophe. A microfungus carried by elm bark beetles entered just under the bark of the trees and made its home there. To protect itself the tree produced a gum, but this gum blocked the xylem tissue and killed the tree. Elm trees in England and France were almost completely wiped out. Such was the misfortune of the elm trees. In the garden of my hermitage there used to be a beautiful elm tree, but it died of this disease. Before we had the time to fell it, the tree rotted and crashed down, killing other small elm trees that were thriving in its shade. Looking into this you can see that the elm tree did not want this to happen. It did not want to be infested by the microfungi, to die and crash down, or to crush the small elm trees in the garden, but that is what happened! Maybe something like that happened to your mother. She was born and raised in an unfavorable environment with the fungi of greed, attachment, and despair. In short, the environment which nurtured her was not a good one. The many negative seeds in her had a chance to manifest, while the positive seeds had no chance. As her child you know that, from a scientific point of view, you have received your mother’s seeds—both the positive and the negative ones. If you were put in the unfavorable environment your mother grew up in, you would have grown up like your mother. If in the past she had been placed in a favorable environment, the negative seeds would not have manifested and she would not have made you suffer. It is a question of environment.
