The Human Body: A Tathagatagarbha-Designed Program

Observing a human anatomy diagram reveals that bodily movements are muscular actions, mechanical in nature, not the actions of a real "self." The human body is merely a tool for the manas (the thinking faculty), a highly precise, mechanized, fully automated apparatus—unreal, orchestrated by the alaya-vijñana (storehouse consciousness). What exactly is this thing that can be disassembled and reassembled like this? Is it you? Can it be taken as "me"? Is it worth paying such a high price for clinging to it? It’s only meant to be used for a few decades anyway; if it breaks, just replace it with a better one.

Look at this neural system: it’s nothing but a bundle of positive and negative wires, a mess of tangled ropes. It gives rise to the aggregate of mental formations (samskara) and the aggregate of consciousness (vijñana), producing the aggregate of perception (samjña) and the aggregate of sensation (vedanā). See through it—there’s actually nothing there. Remove these burdens, and you’ll find ease, freedom, liberation, without afflictions or worries.

All of this is merely for temporary use; there’s no need to cling to it. This includes the entire physical body and the functions of the six consciousnesses—all operate according to fixed programs designed and orchestrated by the alaya-vijñana for the use of the manas. If someone slaps you or punches you, just let it go—don’t hold a grudge, for they cannot hit you. If someone acts unreasonably toward you, let it be—they cannot truly violate you or harm you. Let the world be as it wishes; good or bad, it doesn’t matter. None of it is real, so why be contentious? You bear resentment toward me, I harbor enmity toward him, you loathe me, I detest him—such afflictions are utterly senseless and meaningless. From the struggles between microorganisms to wars between nations, to world wars—fighting relentlessly, it’s completely irrational. Yet no one can truly bring down another or defeat another. Birth and extinction, extinction and birth—there is no real birth, nor real death. If millions die in the world, it’s merely the disappearance of a heap of tangled ropes.

When hundreds of the Buddha Śākyamuni’s relatives were killed by King Virūḍhaka, Ānanda was heartbroken and grieved. Yet the Buddha remained as serene as still water, without anger or hatred. Why could the Buddha see through it so clearly? Because all things lack a real person or real events; they are illusory and empty. Thus, the Buddha was liberated, while Ānanda, not yet liberated, suffered greatly.