Diagram of the Eight Consciousnesses as a Great Tree

All dharmas in the world are composed of the eight consciousnesses working together in harmony; all dharmas are like an ancient, towering tree with mighty vitality. The roots planted deep in the soil correspond to the tathāgatagarbha—firm, vast in foundation, and indestructible; the thick, sturdy trunk corresponds to the seventh consciousness, the manas, reaching ever upward into the sky; the luxuriant branches correspond to the sixth consciousness, with most of the branches connected to the dense, thick foliage, and the leaves correspond to the five consciousnesses. Without the tathāgatagarbha roots, there is no trunk of the seventh consciousness; without the trunk of the seventh consciousness, there are no branches of the sixth consciousness; without the branches of the sixth consciousness, there are no leaves of the five consciousnesses. Yet there can be branches of the sixth consciousness without the leaves of the five consciousnesses, there can be a trunk of the seventh consciousness without branches of the sixth consciousness, and there can be roots of the tathāgatagarbha without a trunk of the seventh consciousness.

These words, together with a structural diagram of the great tree, can fully represent the five-aggregate body of sentient beings. Ordinary sentient beings with heavier ignorance are often blinded by a single leaf; they love beautiful colors, and their eyes are filled with red, yellow, and green leaves, while all the rest of the essence goes unseen. Such beings drift through the secular world in a drunken stupor, eating, drinking, and seeking amusement, knowing only the pleasures of the five desires, without thought, without ideals, and without aspiration.

Somewhat more intelligent ordinary sentient beings see not only the colorful leaves but can also appreciate the graceful charm of the branches. Such people immerse themselves in the exploration and pursuit of various ideas and philosophical theories, yet they fail to see that the branches and leaves are constantly arising and withering with the seasons, constantly undergoing arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing, and cannot last forever; thus the theories they explore and research are constantly updated and updated again, never finding an ultimate destination or source.

Sentient beings with deep insight who are somewhat more practical follow the leaves and branches inward, seeking the trunk, attempting to excavate the subconscious and search for the mysteries of the mind. Some, in the end, because of meager merit (alpa-puṇya) and insufficient mental power, can only see the outline of the trunk. Others, more intelligent, push aside the obscuring branches and leaves, see the main trunk, and contemplate deeply the majestic trunk, discovering that all the nourishment for the branches and leaves of the six consciousnesses is transmitted upward entirely by the main trunk of the manas; without the manas trunk, there would be no branches and leaves of the six consciousnesses.

The wise do not stop there or rest content; following the trunk further downward in their search, they finally find the wellspring of life, the deathless root—the tathāgatagarbha; they finally understand that this is the source of all nourishment, and that the trunk is merely the conduit and bridge for transmitting it. Having found the wellspring of life, the wise have a place for their hearts to rest; leaning against the trunk, sitting upon the roots, they rest in the shade, admiring the scenery of branches and leaves—how free and at ease!

Pitiable, however, are those others who cut down the trunk to process and build houses and towers that last a hundred years; chop the branches into small segments to burn for warmth, lasting two or three years; the leaves fall to the ground, swept by no one, rotting into the earth after autumn and vanishing without a trace; only the roots remain, lying there alone.