Time and Mind: Non-Correspondence

What kind of dharma is time? Is it a substantially existent dharma similar to matter? Time is not material form (rūpa-dharma), nor is it a mental dharma; it is neither form nor mind—it is a conditioned dharma that is not associated with the mind. Why is time not associated with the mind? Because dharmas manifested by the mind are necessarily associated with the mind; the dharmas conjured and transformed by the three transformative consciousnesses (parināma-vijñāna) in concord are associated with the three transformative consciousnesses, arising, ceasing, changing, increasing, and decreasing according to what the mind transforms. But time, this provisional dharma, is not conjured and transformed by the three transformative consciousnesses; it is a provisional dharma manifested through the concord of mental dharmas, material dharmas, and mental factors (caittas). Therefore it cannot be transformed according to the mind; it cannot arise or cease, cannot be lengthened or shortened, cannot be gained or lost. Time is not a substantially existent dharma like matter. Material form is formed from the seeds of the four great elements and is a real dharma, whereas time is not formed from any seeds; it is manifested through the relative changes of matter. Therefore it is not substantially existent—it is a provisional dharma, like a tortoise's hair or a rabbit's horns: invisible, untouchable, and ungraspable.

What, then, is the function of time? Time has no substantive function; a provisional dharma cannot be put to use. Because time is a provisional dharma with no utility, it also cannot be given to one another or seized from one another. Someone might say: "You took up my time; you wasted my time." In fact there is no such thing at all—no one can take up or waste time. For example, suppose I should be eating a meal right now, but you come over, and I have to keep you company in conversation and deal with your matter, and so the meal goes uneaten. Does this involve time? Whether eating, conversing, or resolving a matter, there is no dharma called "time" in any of it. From beginning to end it is only the operation of people, affairs, and things—the three running together in concord—and the length of this process is what displays time.

The course of operation of mental dharmas and material dharmas displays a length of process, and this is called time; the length of the process of material change is called time. For example, one month after a baby is born is called the "full month"; one month is time, but in fact it is simply one stage of the baby's growth and development—there is no such thing as "time." Whether the baby grows and develops for one year, ten years, a hundred years, or for one second, one minute, one hour, or one day, it all refers to the baby's process of growth; there is no dharma called time. Time is passively displayed. Some people say that time now seems to have stopped, to be unmoving; in fact it is the mind that has stopped moving and no longer discriminates—there is no such thing as time. To say time moves or does not move is conceptual proliferation (prapañca), just like discussing how a tortoise's hair or a rabbit's horns might be—it is all conceptual proliferation.

When we look at time, we look at clocks. On a clock, the second hand, minute hand, and hour hand combine to display time; without these hands there is no time, and with these hands there is likewise no time. Most fundamentally, time is displayed according to the position of the sun moving across the sky; without the sun there is no time, and with the sun there is likewise no time. When the sun rises above the horizon, humans define this state as the morning of a day; at the same time the temperature is relatively low, so they define the state of the morning sun arising as "early morning." When the sun rises to the sky overhead, humans define it as the noon of the day. When the sun descends below the horizon, humans define this state as the evening of the day. Thus one full circuit of the sun's movement is defined by humans as one day. Then, by tallying the cycles of the sun's movement, they further define ten days, half a month, one to twelve months, one or two years, and so on. All lengths of time can only be displayed by relying on material form; there is no real dharma called time.

If someone asks me to handle some matters, I say I have no time. In fact no one possesses time; it is only that each person has their own affairs to attend to and cannot do other things, and this is provisionally named "having no time." Doing anything is related to mental dharmas and material dharmas, and mental dharmas are dharmas of arising, ceasing, and change formed from the seeds of consciousness, and are also not substantially existent, though they are somewhat more real than time. Material dharmas are all dharmas formed from the seeds of the four great elements and are likewise not substantially existent, only a bit more real than time. Mental dharmas and material dharmas are both illusory dharmas, and the time displayed by their concord is an even more illusory dharma.

If someone wishes to live longer, it is not that time has been lengthened, but that the course of operation of their material body and five aggregates (pañca-skandha) has been lengthened. Some people live a short time—not because time has been shortened, but because the course of operation of their five-aggregate body is short; there is no mark of time and no dharma of time. Some people like to make schedules; in fact these are not schedules of time, not arrangements of time, but flowcharts for handling people, affairs, and things—arrangements of the processes of people, affairs, and things. When there is no mark of time in one's life, how many bonds can the mind be liberated from? Previously, because of the notion of time, how many constraints did one impose on oneself? How many attachments did one add?

For instance, take a dream—a great dream, a long dream. In the dream one lives a whole lifetime, living for several kalpas, with all the sweetness and bitterness, joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, upheaval and displacement. Upon waking, one discovers it was merely a dream: nothing happened, no one appeared, nothing was gained or lost, and oneself is safe and sound. In the dream there were no people, affairs, or things, and no time—everything was illusory. Upon waking, one is liberated from the dream. Likewise, all sentient beings are displaced and suffering within the great dream of birth and death. This great dream of birth and death is the same as the dream one has at night: there are no real people, affairs, or things, no time and no space—there is nothing at all; it is illusory. Upon waking, one discovers that one has, after all, nothing gained and nothing lost, no attachments and no obstructions, entirely without affairs—and at that moment there is great liberation and the ultimate attainment of buddhahood. When one wakes from the great dream of birth and death, one finds that sentient beings' attainment of buddhahood occurs in but a single instant—there is no time span of three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas.