Bai Xuexiang's Deconstruction of Dharmalakṣaṇa

Hatred, arrogance, jealousy, and afflictive emotions—look, how do these minds arise? Let me give an example. Take jealousy and arrogance: these are actually the same type of mind. When others are better than "me," I feel uncomfortable—that is jealousy. When "I" am superior to others in some respects, that is called arrogance.

Observe carefully: there must be some event, some cognition of an event. If others do better than me at something, I feel jealous; if they do worse than me, I feel arrogant. How can this be resolved? Throw away the "me." In worldly affairs, people have an idiom, "the myriad manifestations of all things" (sen luo wan xiang), and the Avataṃsaka Sūtra has a description, "the ocean-seal manifesting all phenomena." That is to say, worldly affairs are simply too many and too varied. Everyone has their own specialty. If others do well, they should be praised; if I do well, I should be humble, because there are plenty of people who do better than I do—there is nothing worth being arrogant or proud about. The event itself carries no emotion; what generates emotion is merely human imagination—empty, illusory, and unreal. The event itself is also constantly changing, arising and ceasing moment by moment. Where is there anything that needs pride or jealousy?

Now observe even more carefully. I said to throw away the "me." Look: I generated an emotion, and then threw away the emotion—but in fact, what was thrown away was an empty, illusory thing. Nothing was actually discarded. In terms of the event itself, nothing increases or decreases; nothing is hindered in getting anything done, and one remains perfectly calm.

Just now I mentioned various minds. The mind has various discriminations, and with various discriminations there are various minds—this is called the myriad manifestations of all things. These myriad manifestations are like reflections in a mirror; this is called mind-dharma, also called the dharmadhātu. That the mirror can reflect the myriad manifestations is a function inherent in the mirror itself; the Buddhist scriptural term for this is "thus it is by nature" (dharmatā). This function is called "nature" (svabhāva), which is precisely "seeing the nature." The function that discriminates the myriad manifestations is consciousness (vijñāna). Subdividing consciousness yields the eight consciousnesses. The mirror is called "suchness" (tathatā), and the images within it are called "coming" (and going). This mirror has another function: after reflecting, it can retain a negative, like the film in a camera. This is called "seed" (bīja). The function that stores these seed-negatives is called "storehouse" (cang); the whole is called tathāgatagarbha. Because one does not know or understand how to use it, it is called a "storehouse" (cáng, hidden); when one understands it and awakens greatly, it becomes a "treasure" (zàng).

The "I" spoken of by worldly people and the "I" spoken of by Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are not the same thing. The "I" of worldly people is a role—all the various worldly roles, which can be listed: father, mother, son, daughter, boss, subordinate, grocery buyer, vendor, driver, American, Chinese, believer, and countless other immeasurable roles. "I" can play various roles, but the role is not me. With what does one play this role? The answer is the body. One enters the role through the body, and this is why we always take the body to be "I." The body is like an object, and thus requires thought to direct it, so we then take thought to be "I." Thought is the script of the role; the body is the prop of the role.

Thought, this role, is a mind-dharma. One thought of ignorance gives rise to the three subtle marks: the karma-mark, the turning mark, and the objective-realm mark. Read the Master's teachings on the Dharma carefully; Yogācāra explains these classifications in great detail—it is truly a great essential Dharma that can enable one to transcend the world. The Master emphasizes the importance of the manas, with the prerequisite that one must first, at the level of the mind consciousness, make these threads of understanding crystal clear, and then use the manas to realize them. In fact, we ordinary people also have some realization through the manas—for example, being extremely attached to worldly fame, profit, and emotions; this too is a kind of realization of the manas, only it is crooked, like a funhouse mirror. Otherwise, realization would not be so difficult. Transform the manas's cognition: before transformation, the manas is a tangled mess of hemp; after gaining correct cognition and correcting the manas's cognition, after the transformation, there is coolness and peace.

Assessment: This is purely insight gained from personal realization, and it is full of wisdom. It has deconstructed the name-and-form dharmas of the worldly realm, and the deconstruction is not shallow; in this way, the dharmas of the five aggregates are also deconstructed. Only by deconstructing the dharmas can one be liberated from the dharmas of the five aggregates and not be bound by them. And to deconstruct them, one must personally realize the suffering, emptiness, impermanence, and non-self nature of the dharmas. The role of intellectual understanding by the mind consciousness is very slight—when it comes to actual concrete situations, it proves useless.

Only those who have personally realized are free of afflictions. What is worked out intellectually does not solve the problem of afflictions. That is why quite a few people skip over the contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) and actual cultivation of the Small Vehicle, and also skip over meditative concentration (samādhi) and the precepts, going straight to intellectually analyzing the Mahāyāna tathāgatagarbha. Even if they work it out, they lack the wisdom that breaks through the five aggregates. With the five aggregates unbroken, they remain the same as ever, laden with afflictions, continuing to create unwholesome karma, without a trace of liberation. True practice skips over no stage whatsoever, nor does it look down on the cultivation value of any single Dharma, much less overestimate one's own wisdom. Only by being truthful and practical, with feet planted firmly on the ground, can one achieve something, give rise to true wisdom, and allow the mind to break away from the worldly realm and attain liberation.