It doesn’t exist: even buddhas do not see it.
It doesn’t not exist: it is the basis of samsara and nirvana.
No contradiction: the middle way is union.
May I know the pure being of mind, free of extremes.
Commentary
The cutting continues. Again, in order to access a higher form of knowing, we have to be able to rest and do nothing. The deeper we are able to rest, the more subtle and the more tenacious are the patterns that arise. It is as if some part of us is desperate to have something definite to define itself. We thus arrive at the four extreme positions: mind exists, mind does not exist, mind both exists and does not exist, and mind neither exists nor does not exist.
The first line refutes the notion that mind exists. For something to exist, it
must be apprehended in some way and no buddha, not a single one, has ever apprehended mind. If that is the case, why are mere mortals such as us even debating the question? That is a logical conclusion, and it follows naturally from a literal reading of “even buddhas do not see it.”
But I think Rangjung Dorje is going further. What happens if we take the line
as poetry? Buddha could be understood as the highest form of knowing possible. Then the line might read that even when we arrive at the highest or deepest form of knowing possible and look at mind, there is nothing there. When you take that in, what happens? The mind stops. You go empty. Put that aside for a moment. We’ll pick it up later.
The second line refutes the notion that mind does not exist. Samsara and
nirvana are the two ways experience arises, the former as something out there perceived by something in here, the latter as knowing and experience arising together, not separate. Where does experience arise? In mind, of course. Experience is mind. Thus, mind cannot not exist because it is the basis of all experience, both samsara and nirvana.
Mind is the basis of all experience. Take that in. What happens? Mind opens
up, and there is a shift into some kind of clarity. Put that aside, too. We’ll pick it up in a moment.
That desperate part of us now becomes frantic. It says, “Well, that just means
that mind both exists and does not exist. There!” Two wrongs don’t make a right. The mere juxtaposition of two statements, both of which have been refuted, does not make any sense. That desperate part of us counters, “Then mind neither exists nor does not exist.” But that position means, in the language of set theory, that mind belongs to the empty set, and that doesn’t make any sense, either. Any attempt to pin down mind fails. In the end, all we can say is, “Something is going on, even if I can’t say what it is.”
If we are to sit and do nothing, that desperate part of us needs to be put to rest. Otherwise, and this has happened to countless practitioners over the ages, we will construct some grand metaphysical scheme in meditation. To put that desperate part to rest, we have to move beyond the conceptual mind. We are confronted with a conundrum. Experience arises, but from what or how, we cannot say.
In the third line of this verse, Rangjung Dorje boldly asserts, “No
contradiction.” At this point, we go back and pick up the two points we set aside. Confronted with the fact that no one, not even a buddha, sees or apprehends mind, we go empty. Confronted with the fact that all experience arises in mind, we open into clarity. When we hold both facts in attention at the same time, what happens? If the conditions are right, we might have a glimpse of another possibility, that both facts are true, and that is how it is. This is the middle way, not falling into either extreme. Here, the word unity does not mean that two things join together, but more that these two facts, emptiness and clarity, arise together.
That glimpse, that knowing, seems to come from somewhere else, from some place where these two facts are not in opposition, where experience is both present and empty. However fleeting, that knowing is a taste of mind nature, the pure being of mind, a clear empty knowing that does not involve concept or reason, does not engage the categories of is or isn’t, and does not set what is apparently true (the arising of experience) against what is mystically true (the groundlessness of experience). The verse closes with the aspiration to know this kind of knowing.