Lecture Notes on the Sūtra of the Collection of the Father and Son (175)

There was never anything in the world to begin with; it is only mediocre people who trouble themselves over it.

When the dream is over, one keeps recalling the dream and remains immersed in it. One should know that such a person merely tires himself in vain and gains nothing at all; he only lets his mind wear away its energy in futile effort, which serves no purpose. The mind consciousness craves illusory enjoyment and can only obtain a temporary psychological comfort, with no real benefit whatsoever. To be infatuated with people and things that do not exist—such feelings experienced by this consciousness are far too delusive. From beginningless kalpas, sentient beings have always clung in this way to people, affairs, objects, and principles that do not truly exist, tormenting themselves. Outside, there was never anything at all; it is only our mind consciousness fantasizing and deluding. There was never anything in the world to begin with; it is only mediocre people who trouble themselves over it. We are all mediocre people: we take external affairs as real, and then our minds keep churning and surging—yet none of it is real. We are simply seeking suffering for ourselves.

When one truly realizes that all dharmas are empty and without marks, the mind no longer moves. When the mind does not move, it is pure and at ease; when the mind does not move, one attains the bliss of cessation (nirvāṇa). This is the greatest happiness, a happiness in which there is no affliction whatsoever. The happiness of us worldly people always contains affliction: the joy of a family gathering is affliction; the happiness of marriage and having children is affliction, and it also gives rise to suffering—none of it is pure and at ease. But when we cultivate to the point of the bliss of cessation, an unmoving mind has not the slightest affliction or agitation. Right now we cannot imagine what state of mind it is when there is no surging of afflictions and emotions. Once one has truly tasted that blissful state, one would probably never again be willing to crave even a little of any worldly realm.

Our ālayavijñāna has not the slightest affliction at all; it always abides in the bliss of cessation. Why? Because He has eyes yet does not see, ears yet does not hear, a nose yet does not smell, a tongue yet does not taste, a body yet does not feel touch, a mind yet does not deliberate on dharmas—He has no state of mind whatsoever, yet He is no fool. For those who have not realized the ālayavijñāna, this is very hard to fathom. It is utterly different in nature from the bliss we obtain from meditative concentration (samādhi), from the bliss of worldly family gatherings, or from the bliss of promotion and wealth. In the bliss of cessation there is none of all happiness; none of the dharmas of the world is seen, none is craved; there is no confusion and no turmoil. The happiness of the world all exists within turmoil—it is not tranquil; it is afflicted and full of suffering.