Derge Kangyur/Tengyur e-text, Esukhia/Barom edition — public domain (mechanical reproduction)
This commentary provides a systematic exegesis of a forty-verse text titled The Treasury of Dohās, structured around twenty-three points of clarification. The work argues that the ultimate nature of mind is an expanse that transcends the intellect and the tripartite process of listening, reflecting, and meditating. It posits that mindfulness and conceptual recollections are adventitious, wave-like phenomena that arise from and dissolve back into a fundamental state of non-recollection. By distinguishing between fabricated emptiness and the actual wisdom (jñāna) that transcends conceptual mind, the text guides the reader toward the realization of the three kāyas. The author commits the reader to a practice of non-dual awareness where samsara and nirvana are recognized as having one taste. The argument culminates in the assertion that the dharmakāya is a result without outflows, achieved when the practitioner ceases to grasp at the duality of appearance and emptiness, thereby realizing the self-arisen, inconceivable nature of reality.
Provenance
About this text
A commentary on the forty verses of the Treasury of Dohās, the Dohakoṣanāmacaryāgītiṭīkāarthapradīpanāma belongs to the General Unexcelled Yoga Tantra Works. The work is attributed to the Indian author Ajamahāsukha. It entered the Tibetan tradition through a translation by Ajamahāsukha and is preserved in the Tengyur, volume ཞི, where it extends over forty-five pages. Written in classical Tibetan, the work is titled do ha mdzod ces bya ba spyod pa'i glu'i 'grel pa don gyi sgron ma zhes bya ba. The text provides a systematic exegesis structured around twenty-three points of clarification, beginning with an homage to Mañjuśrī Kumārabhūta. It addresses the nature of the non-conceptual expanse of Mahāmudrā and the conquest of the māra of the aggregates and afflictions, which arise from grasping at internal and external objects through the five sense faculties. Scholars and serious readers consult this work to understand the distinction between fabricated emptiness and the wisdom that transcends the conceptual mind, guiding the practitioner toward the realization of the three kāyas and a non-dual awareness where samsara and nirvana are recognized as having one taste, ultimately leading to the result of the dharmakāya.
Cite thisAnuvāda, “A Commentary on “The Song of Performing Deeds called ‘The Treasury of Dohās’” called “The Lamp of the Meaning”” (Toh 2265), machine draft, 2026.https://naxiai.com/tibetan/works/toh2265
Summary & commentary
Significance
The work is significant for its integration of Mahamudra-style non-conceptual insights with the framework of the three kāyas. It offers a technical bridge between the spontaneous nature of the 'song' (dohā) genre and the rigorous analytical requirements of a formal commentary. For the modern reader, it illustrates the tension between conventional mindfulness and the ultimate state of non-recollection.
Structure
Passages
Section
Description
1-2
Introduction and Framework
Establishment of titles in Sanskrit and Tibetan and the outline of the twenty-three points of clarification.
3-24
Nature of Mindfulness and Non-Recollection
Analysis of the adventitious nature of mindfulness, the conquest of the māras, and the distinction between recollection and the expanse of non-recollection.
29-46
Wisdom and Fabrication
Critique of fabricated emptiness and the role of the ālaya-vijñāna, including instructions on the secret fire offering and the nature of the three kāyas.
47-54
The Unborn Nature and Path of Purification
Discussion on the unarisen nature of phenomena, the use of the guru's symbols as a lamp, and the purification of cause, path, and result.
55-56
Conclusion and Lineage
A concluding dialogue involving Sārāha regarding the abandonment of distinctions between pure and impure.
In the language of India: Dohakoṣanāmacaryāgītārthapradīpanāmaṭīkā. In the language of Tibet: Dohazhöd ces bya ba spyod pa’i glu’i ’grel pa don gyi sgron ma zhes bya ba. Homage to the noble Mañjuśrī Kumārabhūta!
To the expanse of great bliss, non-conceptual and free from elaboration, the state of Mahāmudrā beyond mental engagement; to the former gurus who reveal the meaning of the spontaneously present three bodies, free from conditions—I bow.
Through the four bodies free from ultimate elaboration, the four māras are conquered; through the three thig-le, the three bodies are introduced; through the two types of non-recollection, the two truths are established. This commentary on the meaning of the Dohā, which reveals the profound meaning, was not composed by me as it would be improper for one like me to compose such instructions for those who possess the former gurus free from the three conditions and who have realized the essential meaning of the lineage. Nevertheless, I compose this for the sake of people of inferior intellect like myself.
Others explain the root verses by means of a commentary; my tradition binds the root verses to the instructions. Since the oral transmissions of the Kagyü are endless if written down, I shall write the guru’s instructions that do not contradict the scriptures.
That Great Brahmin, the object of worship for the Victors, was blessed by the ḍākinīs because he was a worthy vessel. By engaging in the conduct, he realized the symbolic meaning in his heart. Through realizing the characteristics, he associated with the female arrow-maker. Because he did not consider the [king’s] purpose, the king rebuked him. In response to the forty points of the king’s words, he sang a song of realization. From the Rājadōha, which primarily teaches the Dharmakāya, the four bodies are shown through illustrative examples.
The summarized meaning is clarified through twenty-three points, which concisely illuminate the meaning of the text. The extent of the text consists of forty verses; each set of four lines clarifies the meaning of the individual words.
Regarding this, there are two parts to these forty verses composed as a song for the sake of the King. First is the homage to the Great Brahmin’s heart-pledge, and second is the clear exposition of his treatises. Furthermore, the Great Brahmin’s heart-pledge is the four bodies that conquer the four māras. As for those four māras, they are the māra of the aggregates, the māra of the afflictions, the māra of the Lord of Death, and the māra of the Son of the Gods.
Regarding the māra of the aggregates: when consciousness enters in the manner of the letter A into the white and red drops of the father and mother, the aggregates are formed; this is called the "aggregates." The fact that those aggregates experience many forms of suffering is called the "māra." Because the aggregates have fallen under the power of suffering, they are powerful.
To conquer that: the white and red drops of the father and mother are produced by conditions. As for the consciousness entering as the A: although the aggregates are formed from the appearance of conditions out of the unborn, because the aggregates themselves do not exist and are emanated as an illusion, that illusion is free from conceit. That which is free from conceit is the ultimate body, which is unchanging, without conceptualization, and the expanse of non-recollection; that itself is the nirmāṇakāya. Although anything such as pleasure or suffering appears to the nirmāṇakāya, [it remains free].
Because the clouds in the sky vanish elsewhere, the māra of the aggregates is conquered. As for the māra of the afflictions: based upon the aggregates, the five sense faculties become attached; by grasping at external and internal objects through those five faculties, the afflictions arise, and this is the māra. To be under the power of the afflictions and to engage in them is to be powerful. To conquer that is to recognize that the very afflictions are the arising of attachment and aversion through mindfulness. Since mindfulness itself arises from non-mindfulness, both mindfulness and non-mindfulness are the root of the afflictions. Therefore, the conquering of both mindfulness and non-mindfulness arises from conditions. Non-mindfulness, too, is a dependent phenomenon. At the time when one is characterized by neither of these two, nothing whatsoever arises. Because it is free from verbal expression, it transcends words and conventions; it is the expanse of non-arising. Because it pervades and enjoys all things, it is the saṃbhogakāya. Whatever afflictions arise in the saṃbhogakāya, they are enjoyed; since the mud of the afflictions does not stain the non-arising, it is like a lotus that, though born from mud, is not stained by the defects of the mud. Thus, the māra of the afflictions is conquered.
This mindfulness that depends upon the aggregates is the lord of death. Because this mindfulness seeks out many different aggregates and does not escape the sufferings of birth, aging, sickness, and death, it is a māra. Because it is perpetually under the power of birth and death, it is powerful. To conquer that is to realize that the aggregates, which arise from conditions, depend upon adventitious mindfulness and awareness, which are themselves without a foundation. Since the aggregates arise from conditions, they perish.
Since mindfulness is adventitious, it vanishes. The ultimate mind is the expanse that transcends the intellect, free from the three—listening, reflecting, and meditating. When the various mental fabrications vanish into the expanse that transcends the intellect, they are known to be without inherent nature, like snow falling into the ocean. Abiding free from conceptual elaboration is the dharmakāya. By realizing the dharmakāya, the mara of the Lord of Death is conquered.
As for the mara of the son of the gods: by meditating on the calm abiding of the channels, nāḍīs, and drops as emptiness, contaminated bliss arises. This is the "god." Because one must then cultivate mindfulness through effort and achievement, and because mindfulness is conceptual thought, and conceptual thought is saṃsāra, it is called a "māra." By hoping for contaminated bliss and falling under the power of the thought, "I shall attain the uncontaminated body," it is called "power." To conquer that: bliss with signs arises from the union of the body and mindfulness. If there is no body, there is no basis for bliss to arise; if there is no mindfulness, there is no one to meditate upon the body. Therefore, the bliss of both body and mind is adventitious, arising from conditions; it is a limited cause, a limited location, and a limited time. Thus, when the body perishes, the bliss dependent upon the body also perishes.
Uncontaminated bliss is the essence of the three kāyas, inseparable and naturally pure. In that expanse free from the eight extremes of conceptual elaboration, neither cause nor effect is established. There is no fear of saṃsāra and no hope for nirvāṇa.
That is unstained by mud and expansive; the ultimate body, speech, and mind are inseparable and indivisible. It is the svabhāvakāya (essence body), for it has never become an object of conceptual grasping; thus, the devaputra-māra (demon of the son of the gods) is conquered. Therefore, homage to the Great Brahmin’s heart-pledge, which utterly destroys the power of the māras.
To clarify the meaning of the text, there are twenty-three examples: thirteen examples of contradiction, seven examples of non-contradiction, two examples of a mixture of contradiction and non-contradiction, and finally, the response to the king, making twenty-three. First, regarding the examples of contradiction: because the king did not realize the meaning of immovability, the example of water and waves—characterized by movement—is used to demonstrate it. Furthermore, as for the meaning of immovability: in the state of non-recollection, the movement of recollective awareness cannot stir it; in the expanse where there is no mental engagement through recollection, meditation, and so forth, there is no movement or agitation. In the unborn expanse, birth, aging, sickness, and death cannot stir it; though various births occur, they arise from the unborn and dissolve into the unborn. In the expanse that transcends the intellect, the various fabrications of the intellect cannot stir it; even hearing, contemplation, and meditation dissolve into the expanse that transcends the intellect. Thus, the three types of immovability are the vajra-like samādhi, which is like the depths of the ocean; the three types of movement in the mind are the illusory samādhi, which is like the wind and the surface of the ocean. Therefore, just as it is not moved by the striking of the wind, if the body, speech, and mind are benefited by meditation and contemplation, or...
Whatever harm may occur, it arises from the dharmakāya and dissolves into the dharmakāya. For example, when wind strikes water, the surface of the water is stirred and many waves arise, yet the depths remain unmoved. Likewise, this wave-like mindfulness surges and moves upon the surface of non-mindfulness, but the depth of non-mindfulness is the unborn state beyond the intellect; thus, there is no movement between the two. Therefore, the waves of mindfulness are the three aspects of saṃsāra, yet there is no attachment to them; one should understand them to be merely the waves of water. Furthermore, the water-like is mindfulness, and the various appearances are the wave-like conditions. When realized in this way, from the meaning of mahāmudrā—which is non-mental engagement—the two aspects of saṃbhogakāya and nirmāṇakāya arise as mere waves. Thus, movement from water becomes the waves. In this way, from a single reality, various distinctions appear depending on whether it is realized or not. From the single dharmakāya, the conceptual thoughts of sentient beings grasp it as the three, four, or five kāyas and so forth; these are the distinctions of the utterly pure dharmadhātu which is untainted by any condition. For example, in the case of Saraha, although a king might temporarily perceive him as a Brahmin, a paṇḍita, a yogi, or an outcaste, he does not transcend being one and the same. Just as the King Saraha appears in those various ways, so too do both saṃsāra and nirvāṇa arise from the dharmadhātu of non-mental engagement. If one asks, "Since saṃsāra also arises from non-mental engagement, does non-mental engagement itself not become saṃsāra?"—it does not.
For example, when clouds arise from the sky, the sky itself does not go into the clouds; rather, [the clouds] arise from it and dissolve back into it. Likewise, all of this samsara is mindfulness, and mindfulness itself arises from non-mindfulness and dissolves into non-mindfulness. Therefore:
"Though it is one, it manifests in various ways."
Now, to illustrate how failing to realize the non-duality of mind and mental factors leads to a mistaken understanding of the view—like seeing two lamps from one—the authentic view transcends the domain of the intellect and is free from the movement of mind and mental factors. Individuals who do not realize this, however, become fixated on mindfulness and awareness. By analyzing mindfulness and awareness with mindfulness and awareness, they claim that the mere emptiness of their characteristics is the "view." This is called "being foolish." To be "foolish" means to see what is not the case as being the case, and to see what is the case as not being the case; it is a perverted meditation. The analogy for this is looking with eyes that do not see properly, but instead pressing on the corner of the eye.
"Just as a fool looks by looking in reverse,"
For example, because the eyes are pressed and looking in reverse, a single lamp is seen as two lamps due to the condition of the eyes. Similarly, by looking in reverse from the authentic view that transcends the intellect, they claim that the view of conceptual mindfulness and awareness is the "intention of the Buddha." Since appearance and emptiness are both adventitious, this is artificial. Just as an unartificial person does not see two lamps, one who realizes the meaning that transcends the intellect understands that appearances are also adventitious.
Because they are born from conditions. Even emptiness is adventitious, for an emptiness that is a product of fabrication is subject to destruction. Therefore, although both appearance and emptiness do not transcend the expanse that is beyond the intellect, conceptual thought grasps them as two, whereby a single lamp appears as two. Consequently, both the object to be viewed and the consciousness that views are adventitious. In the ultimate dharmakāya, there is no duality of mindfulness and lack of mindfulness, no duality of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, and no duality of buddhas and sentient beings; thus, there is no duality of the viewed and the viewer. However, individuals who have not realized this use the intellect to differentiate between the five contaminated aggregates and the five uncontaminated aggregates, between mindfulness and lack of mindfulness, between saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, between virtue and non-virtue, and so forth. Thus: "Alas! The intellect appears as dualistic entities."
Now, although the coemergent pervades all of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, because it is not realized, it is illustrated by the analogy of a person born blind who does not see the light of a lamp even though it pervades them. Furthermore, at the time when one is distracted by the sensory qualities of the outer house, the lamp of wisdom—which is non-mindfulness—pervades, yet it is not realized because one lacks the lineage. The inner house consists of the five aggregates; beyond the five aggregates, the lamp-like wisdom in which no conceptualization exists is also not realized. The secret house is the expanse of non-mindfulness, which is sealed by the light of the lamp of the unborn; since this too is not realized: "Though many lamps are lit within the house," just as a lamp does not conflict with its surroundings, [so too is the nature of reality].
Because the mindfulness that possesses the lineage dispels all the darkness of recollection—the afflictions—by means of the eye of wisdom, those who are attached to a mindfulness that lacks the lineage lack the eye of non-recollective wisdom. Remaining in mere mindfulness, they have no time to clear away the darkness of saṃsāra. For example, it is like a blind person for whom the light of a lamp pervades, yet because the blind person does not see it, there is no time for the darkness to clear. Therefore, just as one who lacks eyes remains in darkness, likewise, the coemergent nirmāṇakāya of appearance, the coemergent saṃbhogakāya of emptiness, and the coemergent dharmakāya of non-arising—these three kāyas pervade all of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. Thus, "Since the coemergent pervades everything, those three kāyas have never been separated and are always accompanied by oneself." For example, they are like honey and the taste of honey, which accompany one another. Yet, because mindfulness itself is sealed by non-recollection, it is not realized despite being extremely close. "Though close, for the deluded, it is very far."
Now, the fact that the many relative truths, which are not contradictory, are subsumed by the single ultimate truth is shown through the examples of the river and darkness. All rivers, such as the Gaṅgā, Yamunā, Sītā, and Nara, arise from the ocean and dissolve back into the ocean. In the same way, all phenomena of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa arise from that which transcends the intellect.
Even when dissolving, they dissolve into the expanse that transcends the intellect. Furthermore, just as all waters are of one taste, although all the phenomena of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa appear as a multiplicity, they are of one taste within the expanse untouched by the intellect. Just as various rivers become one in the ocean, this is the wheel of sustained mindfulness. Although all the generation and completion stages are fabricated by mindfulness and are thus of a perishable nature, in the ultimate sense, the expanse is non-deceptive. That which is not mentally engaged and untouched by the intellect—being inexpressible and inconceivable—overcomes all false mindfulness, awareness, or mental fabrications. For example, even if a great liar tells many lies, if someone who knows the truth perceives them as untrue, those many lies are overcome by that single truth. As for the manner in which they are overcome: the nature of the sublime guru’s instructions, which is like the sun, is utterly pure and free from all conceptual elaborations. Being untainted by the three conditions, it is as luminous as the sun and pervades all; thus, it is like the sun and its light becoming one. The channels, winds, and drops, and so forth, are all like darkness; because they are all mentally fabricated, the ultimate reality that transcends the domain of the intellect is not seen. That which causes one to see the ultimate reality is the sublime guru’s instructions, free from the three conditions. Having seen the three kāyas, the two stains are purified, and all mindfulness is overcome by non-mindfulness; thus, even the many forms of darkness are overcome.
Now, this is shown by the non-contradictory example of the ocean, which is without increase or decrease. From the ocean, vapor arises; the vapor becomes clouds; from the clouds, rain falls, which causes the crops to flourish. In the same way, from the dharmakāya, which is like the ocean, the saṃbhogakāya arises like vapor; from the nirmāṇakāya, which is like the clouds, various emanations arise like rain. Just as rain from the clouds falls from the ocean, and according to the differences in the vessels, it takes on the distinctions of being snow, sweet, or sour, yet the rain has no thought, "I have acted in such a way." In the same way, from the dharmakāya beyond the intellect, the saṃbhogakāya—which is unborn—and the nirmāṇakāya—which is beyond recollection—both arise. The dharmakāya has no thought that the saṃbhogakāya and nirmāṇakāya have arisen from it, nor does it think, "This is saṃsāra" or "This is nirvāṇa," and so forth; these are apprehended as distinct only through the differences of one's own conceptual thoughts. For example, just as rain moistens the entire earth and causes plants and forests to grow, thereby benefiting sentient beings, so too, the moisture-like arising of the guru’s instructions beyond recollection moistens all the barrenness of the afflictions into the unborn state. From the expanse beyond the intellect, for the sake of sentient beings, many diverse emanations arise. Because those emanations can appear in any way whatsoever through the differences of the mind’s conceptual thoughts, it is said: "Whatever land is made full by taking water," and so on. For example, although that rain comes from the ocean, the ocean does not diminish, and thus there is no harm to the ocean.
Likewise, although many recollections arise from the expanse of non-recollection, that non-recollection is not impaired. Even when those recollections occur, they arise abruptly from non-recollection; even when they remain, because the characteristics of recollection are not mentally engaged, they remain dissolved in non-recollection. Since they dissolve into the state of non-recollection, that very non-recollection is like space. Because it remains at all times as an uninterrupted continuity of non-recollection, it is equal to the pure sky when it is not impaired. Therefore, the Dharmakāya, which transcends the intellect, cannot be benefited by the two accumulations, because there is nothing to be accumulated within that which transcends the intellect. It cannot be obscured by the collection of non-virtues, because there is nothing to be obscured within that which transcends the intellect. Although the two bodies arise from the Dharmakāya, the Dharmakāya neither exhausts nor increases. Furthermore, because it is the inexhaustible expanse that is neither exhausted nor will be exhausted, it neither increases nor diminishes.
Now, it is shown that even the Victorious One’s qualities, adorned with the major marks and minor signs, are the nature of the coemergent. In that regard, there are two types of the Victorious One’s qualities: the qualities of a worldly victor and the qualities of a supramundane victor. The qualities of a worldly victor—such as the thirty-two major marks, the eighty minor signs, the four fearlessnesses, or the fathom-wide radiance—are not the supramundane excellence, because they are all adventitious. "The excellence of the Victorious One is completely full" refers to the supramundane qualities of the Victorious One, which are the ultimate coemergent.
Furthermore, that which arises from mindfulness and non-mindfulness, and abides and dissolves therein, is the coemergent emptiness. That which arises from non-mindfulness and non-arising, and abides and dissolves therein, is the coemergent emptiness of non-arising; it is unborn. Although it arises from the non-arising that transcends the intellect, that which abides and dissolves therein is the coemergent non-arising that transcends the domain of the intellect. From that which transcends the intellect, the appearance of the two form bodies (rūpakāya) is capable of arising according to the diverse inclinations of sentient beings; since this is the very nature of the supramundane qualities of the Victorious One, it is the single nature of the coemergent. That coemergent nature pervades all stable and moving beings and is the state in which they cease. Because they arise from mindfulness and non-mindfulness and cease therein, beings are born and cease from that.
If one asks, "Is that coemergent state called the appearance of mindfulness and the emptiness of non-mindfulness?" it is not so. It is neither the meditation on the maṇḍala and so forth, which are the phenomena of mindfulness and substantial entities, nor is it the meditation on the śamatha of the emptiness of non-mindfulness, which is the phenomenon of non-substantiality. Rather, that which is untainted by both mindfulness and non-mindfulness, the non-arising, is the coemergent; in that, there is neither entity nor non-entity.
Now, this is shown by the analogy of a person who has no hope for pleasure born of conditions drinking the honey from a rock, which illustrates the pleasure not produced by conditions. Furthermore, that pleasure which is not produced by conditions is:
The ultimate reality, the unborn essence that cannot be conceptualized, the expanse beyond the intellect, is the enlightened intent of the Buddha. It is untainted bliss, unsullied by the mud of either saṃsāra or nirvāṇa. Those who do not realize it abandon it and, by clinging to the karmamudrā of tainted bliss, they go to the desire realm. By clinging to the maṇḍala of gods and goddesses through the bliss of the samayamudrā, they go to the form realm. By being intensely attached to the śamatha of emptiness through the dharmamudrā, they go to the form realm. Because they go to the formless realm by being intensely attached to the śamatha of emptiness through the dharmamudrā, they abandon sublime bliss and go elsewhere. Even the bliss that relies upon a wisdom consort is born of conditions. Meditating on the bindu and nāda is also bliss born of conditions. Meditating on the maṇḍala of gods and goddesses is also bliss born of conditions. If one places hope in these, one will not be liberated from the three realms nor attain freedom; one will only attain the status of a god in the higher realms. Thus, one places hope in bliss born of conditions and fails to realize ultimate bliss. The analogy for those who claim that bliss produced by conditions is "coemergent bliss" is as follows: on a high cliff there is a beehive; above it, two elephants are fighting; below, there is a great lake; and in between, a person desiring honey holds onto a clump of grass and drinks the honey, while a black and white mouse cut the grass.
If it flees upward, it is blocked by the elephant; if it flees downward, it goes into the lake. Thus, it is in extreme suffering. In the same way, one does not realize that the taste of the three bodies of the Buddha’s intention exists within oneself. To hope for a happiness born of conditions that exists elsewhere is like the honey existing on the rock. The bundle of grass is one’s life, and the two mice are day and night, which steal away that life. The two elephants are the form realm and the formless realm; the lake below is the desire realm. Since one cannot escape the three realms no matter where one flees, the honey close to one’s own mouth—representing the three bodies that are always accompanying one like the flow of a river—is not drunk to one’s satisfaction. Instead, one hopes for and examines the water of a mirage, which is a phenomenon created by the intellect and born of conditions; yet, even though one examines it, it remains extremely distant. Thus: "One does not drink, and so it remains extremely distant."
Now, to show the example and meaning of the contradiction: the wise are attached to the object, while the unwise show an example of attachment. For example, animals do not see the yoke and the burden as suffering, but see even a small amount of food as happiness. Likewise, ordinary beings see the afflictions such as attachment, aversion, and ignorance as happiness, and thus enjoy them. Seeing virtuous activities or the sublime Dharma as suffering, they strive to avoid them.
The ultimate truth, which is non-recollection, unborn, and beyond the intellect, is unerring. To stray from that and instead view the aggregates of suffering—the cause of cyclic existence consisting of recollective awareness—not as suffering but as happiness, is like the way animals do not perceive suffering. However, those who possess the lineage instructions and are skilled in non-recollection and the unborn see the channels, winds, drops, and the generation stage as all being the suffering of the mind; therefore, the wise regard these as suffering. That wise one who has realized the meaning cannot express the Buddha’s intention, which transcends the domain of the intellect. It cannot be recited, it cannot be described, and it cannot be named. It is the nature of uninterrupted meditative concentration that is not brought to mind, transcending the limits of birth and death, and transcending the extremes of permanence and nihilism. Because one is never separate from that which is like space, one drinks the nectar of space.
By failing to realize it in that way, one’s recollective awareness becomes attached to the five sensory objects of the external world; one becomes attached to the internal objects of the channels, winds, and the shamatha of emptiness; and one becomes attached to the secret object of non-recollection, the unborn, and that which transcends the intellect. To seek all objects of attachment or clinging as something separate from the ultimate truth itself is the cause of not being liberated. Therefore: "Others are attached to the purity of objects."
Now, having abandoned all such attachment, which is the state of nirvāṇa, the example of one who is inclined toward the pleasures of cyclic existence is shown by the analogy of a worm in excrement. For example, that worm in filth is attached to the foul smell of the impurity.
Likewise, the sentient beings of saṃsāra are attached to the five sensory qualities. Because individuals who have not realized the truth are attached to bliss accompanied by signs, they are like the worms in excrement who are attached to its smell. Just as those impure worms, upon merely smelling sandalwood, camphor, or musk, grasp at the filth and become bound by it, so too do yogis who rely on signs misperceive the signless reality and fall into a state of delusion. Thus, they perceive sandalwood as having a foul odor. If one realizes that signless reality which transcends the intellect, one abandons the aggregates of suffering—the saṃsāra constructed by the intellect—and attains the three types of ultimate nirvāṇa. However, by grasping at constructed phenomena as ultimate, one abandons nirvāṇa in that way. By becoming intensely attached to the bliss of appearance-emptiness as it appears in the experience of mindfulness and awareness, one wanders through the three realms. Because suffering arises from such mindfulness, it becomes the cause for the emergence of saṃsāra and the support for its persistence. Since there is no time of separation from saṃsāra, one is attached to the thick source of existence.
Now, to demonstrate through a perfect example of a contradictory analogy, such as the water in a cow’s footprint: for instance, a person who has never seen the ocean might think the water in a cow’s footprint is the ocean; though they search for jewels, they will not find any. In the same way, by thinking that the signs, characteristics, and experienced bliss are the ultimate truth, one will not find the ultimate. Thus: "Even if a cow’s footprint is filled with water..."
For example, if one were to find a single jewel in the water of a cow’s footprint, it would be lost because it is so small. Likewise, even if the common accomplishments (sādhāraṇa-siddhi) of fabricated phenomena arise, they vanish because they are impermanent. Just as that [jewel] changes with the eon, the thirty-two major marks or eighty minor signs of a Buddha, or the various qualities that appear, are adventitious and thus vanish. For example, in the state of a dream, one may dream of entering the celestial palaces of the gods and so forth; yet upon waking, because they are unreal, they are not stable and vanish.
"Perfection is not [the adventitious], but the stable mind." This stable mind is the dharmakāya, which is unchanging, free from conceptualization, and unpolluted by the three conditions. That is the perfection of the stable mind. Because that is not realized, people claim that the power of mantras and mudrās is perfection; however, since that too is adventitious, "perfection will again wither away."
Now, having realized the meaning of the unchanging through the example of non-contradiction, the example of how various objects do not become faults even when experienced is shown. If one realizes the three bodies—the nirmāṇakāya which is without recollection, the saṃbhogakāya which is unborn, and the dharmakāya which transcends the intellect—one will not be reborn in saṃsāra hereafter. For example, because the salty water of the ocean is unfit for use, plants, forests, and so forth do not grow there. Likewise, that which transcends the intellect cannot be analyzed by the intellect. Since it cannot be analyzed by the intellect, one is not reborn in saṃsāra.
Just as the water of the salt ocean: if one asks, "Well then, is that salt water not entirely unfit for analysis?" it is not so. From the ocean, waves arise and become clouds; from the clouds, rain falls, which causes all crops to ripen. Furthermore, depending on the particularity of the vessel: if it falls into the shell of an oyster, it becomes a pearl; if it falls into the heart of a lotus, it becomes quicksilver. Likewise, from the state of non-recollection, the emanation of recollection arises. For those who do not realize it, this causes the fruits of saṃsāra to ripen; for those who possess the lineage, it causes the three kāyas to ripen. Thus, like the pearl or quicksilver from the oyster or lotus, the distinction between possessing or not possessing a suitable vessel creates the two states of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. "By being taken into the mouth of the water-holder, it becomes sweet." From the three—non-recollection, the unborn, and that which transcends the intellect—whatever arises is a variety of emanations. Clinging to these emanations is instability. The place where emanations arise, which transcends the objects of the intellect, cannot be altered by the intellect. That very state is the ultimate mind, naturally pure. From that, any benefit for sentient beings can arise, as it is like a wish-fulfilling tree or a precious vase. Thus, the mind of the teachings performs the welfare of others. If the meaning of the unborn is realized, one realizes the three: the place of arising, the place of abiding, and the place of dissolution for all outer and inner objects. Consequently, even the afflictions, which are like poison, can be transformed into the nectar of primordial wisdom (jñāna). For example, it is like administering aconite to one with heart-wind (snying rlung), which heals the heart-wind.
In reality, just as one loses consciousness due to a heart-wind disorder, the enlightened intent of the Buddha is without recollection. Although various recollections arise from that, if they are grasped as real entities, they become poison. However, if one knows the very nature of that recollection, then even while engaging in mindful awareness, one realizes it to be without inherent existence; thus, even the poison of objects is transformed into nectar.
Now, if one realizes the meaning of the inexpressible through non-contradictory examples, then even the mantra of the inexpressible sound arises from the meaning, like the sound of thunder. Although the expanse of non-mental engagement is inexpressible, it is, for example, like the inexpressible bliss of a young maiden. Recollection is that which is expressed or known; as long as there is recollection, that is the truth of suffering. The absence of recollection is the truth of origin. Non-arising is the truth of the path. That which transcends the domain of the intellect is the truth of cessation. Because these three truths are inexpressible, if they are inexpressible, they are not suffering. Because they are inexpressible, they are also not to be meditated upon. Meditation is conceptual thought, and conceptual thought is samsara. Therefore, the ultimate reality that transcends the domain of the intellect cannot be meditated upon by the mind, nor can it be expressed by speech.
That is the great bliss unstained by mud. If even a single thing were to be done by the mind, it would be a cause of suffering because it is an act of fabrication. Thus, if there is nothing to meditate upon, that itself is bliss. Individuals of small intellect become terrified by the expression "there is nothing to meditate upon."
Even if one is terrified, if the meaning of that is realized, the purpose of liberation from saṃsāra arises. For example, although those of small intellect are frightened by fierce lightning and thunder, they serve the purpose of ripening the crops. Just as when one is terrified by the sound of clouds, the occurrence of thunder and lightning is a precursor to rain; and just as the falling of rain causes all crops and fruits to ripen, from that inexpressible meaning, the welfare of sentient beings is spontaneously ripened into mindfulness and non-mindfulness. It is ripened into non-mindfulness and non-arising; it is ripened into non-arising and the transcendence of the intellect. Thus, if realized through the intellect, it ripens one into both saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, just as the falling of rain ripens the crops.
Now, regarding the non-contradictory example of the inseparability of the three times, the teaching on the non-duality of appearance and emptiness is as follows: At the time of initial mindfulness, the final is not remembered; at the time of final mindfulness, the middle is not remembered. Therefore, mindfulness has no abiding place. That lack of abiding is the suchness of the ultimate abiding. From within the expanse of non-mindfulness, this mindfulness first arises, abides in the middle, and finally dissolves. For the yogi of realization, mindfulness abides as non-mindfulness throughout the three times; thus, it abides in the beginning, the middle, and the end. When realized in that way, the three—past, future, and present—are not perceived, because within the expanse that transcends the intellect, those three are not distinct.
The first and the last are likewise not found elsewhere. Because one does not realize it in that way, one perceives appearance and perceives emptiness, and thus grasps at appearance and emptiness as two; this is not the authentic state.
This is because both are adventitious. To view that which is adventitious is delusion. Regarding the two—appearance and emptiness—as they appear to a mind possessing the delusion of conceptual construction: what are these two? Emptiness is both fabricated emptiness and unfabricated emptiness. Fabricated emptiness is the meditation on emptiness. Unfabricated emptiness is the mere realization of non-recollection. Because fabricated emptiness is a product, it is adventitious to the world. That which is called the mere non-recollection of unfabricated emptiness is also perishable because it is an experience. Appearance consists of ordinary appearance and appearance transformed by philosophical tenets. Ordinary appearance is this grasping at things as real; this appearance of things seems pleasant only when unexamined, but when examined, it is merely an illusion, an optical illusion, or a dream. Appearance transformed by philosophical tenets refers to the three types of compassion. Compassion focused on sentient beings is perishable because it is a product. Compassion focused on phenomena is also perishable. Non-referential compassion, however, is established by its very nature because there is no object to refer to and thus no cause for compassion. Therefore, because appearance and emptiness can be cognized or expressed, they are not the ultimate. This is because emptiness and compassion are expressed. Now, for an example of their non-contradiction: "The wise know that samsara and nirvana are inseparable; the deluded do not know this, as shown by the examples of the crop, the bee, and the frog." For example, there is honey within a flower grown from a lake, but although it is right there, birds, swans, fish, frogs, and the like do not know it.
Likewise, through attachment to the experiences of the generation stage and completion stage of mindfulness, as well as the channels, nāḍī, drops, and so forth, one fails to recognize the honey of the unborn and the state beyond the intellect that exists within the non-mindfulness untainted by mindfulness. Because of that attachment to mindful awareness, one does not know it.
For example: "Just as the honey dwelling within a flower, a bee coming from afar drinks the honey without being hindered by the lake or the petals, and then departs; likewise, the wise, by not being attached to the conceptual thoughts of mindfulness, know the three—non-mindfulness, the unborn, and that which transcends the intellect—and thus the bee itself has come to know."
If one knows the meaning of non-mindfulness, the unborn, and that which transcends the intellect, then saṃsāra and nirvāṇa are inseparable. The three realms—the desire realm, the form realm, and the formless realm—are the three of saṃsāra. The three types of nirvāṇa—the with remainder, the without remainder, and the non-abiding—are also three. Since both of these are not observed within the expanse that transcends the intellect, and by remaining in their natural state without losing the taste of that very non-observation, one does not differentiate between existence and nirvāṇa.
Because those who are deluded regarding such a meaning are attached to mindful awareness and are ignorant of non-mindfulness, they do not know the meaning of the three kāyas. Therefore: "How could the deluded fully understand it?"
Now, setting aside the example of contradiction, the teaching is shown through the example of attachment to the unreal, such as a reflection. For example, when a small child looks into a mirror and sees their own reflection, they go to grasp it. Likewise, those who have not realized the truth dwell in attachment to the bliss of mindful awareness with characteristics as being the ultimate reality.
It is like a form that cannot be grasped even though it is perceived. For example, it is like when rabbits lead the lion, the king of beasts, to the edge of a well and cause his reflection to appear in the well; the lion, provoked by anger, leaps in. Likewise, through non-realization, one becomes attached to the maṇḍalas of gods and goddesses which are but reflections of memory. Because one is thereby bound by that very attachment, it is said: "As the ignorant and deluded look [at it]." The ultimate truth, the essential meaning that transcends the domain of the intellect, is unstained by the mud of both saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. Because one abandons that [truth] through clinging to memory, that mind which has thus abandoned the truth relies upon the bliss of signs, the bliss of the action seal (karmamudrā), the śamatha of the emptiness of the dharma seal (dharmamudrā), and the clinging to the maṇḍala of deities of the samaya seal (samayamudrā). Furthermore, these are fabricated meditative concentrations, characterized by destruction and lacking in reality. Because they rely on what is not realized, one relies extensively upon the unreal.
Now, if one realizes the wheel of the three kāyas, which is non-contradictory, the analogy for the uninterrupted continuity of meditative concentration is shown. For example, although the Campaka flower is on the far side, its fragrance emerges on this side. In the same way, although the authentic view—which is beyond meditation—resides on the far side of memory and awareness, at the time of realization, it pervades both in front of memory and awareness, and it also pervades memory and awareness themselves. That pervasive meaning is neither to be meditated upon nor can it be expressed.
Therefore, that which is without an object of vision is the authentic view. Alternatively, mindfulness and awareness are like a flower, while non-mindfulness is like its fragrance. Since non-mindfulness is formless, it is unimpeded by any entities or signs and pervades everywhere. Thus, although the fragrance of the flower cannot be grasped, and although the flower’s fragrance lacks form, it is nonetheless all-pervasive just like direct perception. In the same way, that which is non-conceptual pervades everything. The guru is able to point this out directly through symbols and skillful means: it can be shown as direct perception of mindfulness and the sense faculties; it can be shown as the direct perception of the non-mindful mental consciousness; it can be shown as the direct perception of the unborn and awareness; and it can be shown as the yogic direct perception that transcends the intellect. Therefore, because these three—non-mindfulness, the unborn, and that which transcends the intellect—pervade all phenomena of entities and signs, they act as a direct and universal pervasion. Furthermore, non-mindfulness is the nirmāṇakāya, the unborn is the saṃbhogakāya, that which transcends the intellect is the dharmakāya, and the inseparability of these three is the svabhāvikakāya. These four are naturally pure, devoid of entities and signs, and without form or the nature of form. They possess four characteristics: the non-mindful nirmāṇakāya is all-pervasive; the unborn saṃbhogakāya is not material; the intellect-transcending dharmakāya is without coming or going and is inseparable; and the svabhāvikakāya is all time, and is thus suchness. Since that suchness lacks form and the nature of form, it is so.
Likewise, within that suchness which is the nature of formlessness and transcends all signs, the entire maṇḍala of saṃsāra and the maṇḍala of nirvāṇa are capable of arising. The intentions of those to be trained arise from the expanse in which all outer and inner maṇḍalas are not mentally constructed, and they subside back into that expanse. Since that expanse is unstained by the two types of defilement and is untainted by either saṃsāra or nirvāṇa, one should understand that the maṇḍala wheels are also pure.
Now, to illustrate the contradiction through the example of clinging to things as real: because discursive thought has become solid and hardened, it is shown to be like ice. This shifting mindfulness disturbs the expanse of non-mindfulness, and thus discursive thought increases greatly. For example, when winter winds disturb water, it turns into ice; likewise, when thought enters the non-conceptual, saṃsāra increases.
When wind enters and stirs the water, if the wind had not entered the water, it would be smooth and without pain. But because the condition of the wind enters, it turns into ice like a stone. Likewise, if discursive thoughts of mindfulness had not entered the state of non-mindfulness, there would be no pain of the afflictions and it would be smooth due to the absence of conceptual signs. From non-mindfulness, mindfulness arises; by grasping at that as a permanent entity, the afflictions grow ever greater. Because discursive thought then becomes destructive and irrational, even the smooth water turns into the form of stone.
Furthermore, if one knows that mindfulness itself is first born from non-mindfulness, remains in non-mindfulness in the middle, and finally dissolves into non-mindfulness at the end, [then one is liberated].
Whatever mindfulness arises is like snow falling into a lake. For those who have not realized [the nature of mind], they grasp at mindfulness as an independent, permanent, and eternal entity; this is like snow falling on top of snow. As conceptual thoughts increase more and more, the mindfulness of an unawakened individual disturbs the state of non-mindfulness, thereby accumulating only the causes of saṃsāra. Because they are disturbed by conceptualization, the delusion of formlessness arises. Furthermore, even the meditation on the channels, nāḍī, the bindu, caṇḍālī, and the śamatha of emptiness, if the ultimate is realized, then by contemplating many conceptual thoughts, those thoughts become indestructible; thus, they become extremely firm and solid.
Now, the non-contradictory non-mindfulness, the unborn state beyond the intellect, unstained by faults, is shown through the example of a precious jewel unstained by mud. For example, when clouds and rainbows appear in the sky, the sky is not harmed. When reflections appear in a mirror, the mirror is not harmed. Likewise, from the pure essence of the nature of mind, which is non-mindfulness, mindfulness arises adventitiously. Even as it arises, it arises from non-mindfulness; even as it abides, it abides therein; and even as it dissolves, it dissolves therein. Because this is the yoga of direct encounter, mindfulness leaves no trace. Therefore, the virtue and non-virtue created by mindfulness, and the lack of mental engagement with the latter two, cannot benefit or harm [the nature of mind]. Thus:
"In the nature of the mind, which is stainless,
The three realms and the three states of nirvāṇa—
These two, saṃsāra and nirvāṇa,
Are the conceptualization and mindfulness that grasp at them as two.
That very mindfulness is caught in the mud of the two stains."
The three realms of saṃsāra are the stains of the afflictions; the three types of nirvāṇa are the stains of the knowable. In that stainless expanse where such stains are not taken to mind, there is not even anything to be designated as the duality of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. Because it is unstained by any mud, it is not defiled by the mud of existence or nirvāṇa. For example, even if a precious gem is placed in the mire, the qualities of the gem are not stained by the mud. Likewise, the yogi of non-recollection, even if placed in the mud of recollection, is not stained in the slightest by the defects of recollection. This is because it is like the utpala flower, which, though born from the mud, is unstained by its faults. Therefore:
"If placed in mud, it is the supreme jewel."
For example, if a precious gem is placed in the mire, the light of the gem does not shine. Yet, there is no such thing as clarity or lack of clarity regarding the qualities of the gem itself. Likewise, when non-recollection is placed in the mire of recollection and one fails to realize it due to attachment to recollection, there is no conventional expression of clarity or lack of clarity regarding non-recollection itself, nor is there any expression of permanence or impermanence. Just as a gem is recognized as a gem once the mire has been washed away, when the mire of recollection is washed away by the instructions of the sublime guru, the adventitious is pointed out and one sees the three kāyas within the expanse of non-recollection. If the mire of recollection is not washed away, it is not seen, and thus its light does not shine.
Now, regarding the example of the contradiction where the universal ground (ālaya) as the seed ripens into the duality of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa: this shows how a sprout arises from whatever seed it is. Furthermore, the consciousness of the body dissolves into the five sense faculties; the sense faculties dissolve into the mental consciousness.
When the mind dissolves into the afflictions, and the afflictions dissolve into the ālaya-vijñāna (all-basis consciousness), to meditate on that fabricated emptiness—a vacant void—is ignorance (moha). This is because it fails to clarify the ultimate wisdom (jñāna) that transcends the conceptual mind. Since ignorance obscures, wisdom is not revealed. Some claim that wisdom is the meditation on the syllables OṂ ĀḤ HŪṂ dissolving into one another, or the meditation on a drop (bindu), or even the drop itself; however, because this is a mental fabrication, it is ignorance. Furthermore, whether one claims the experience of the third empowerment to be the ultimate wisdom, or meditates on the subtle, the coarse, or any fabricated emptiness, it is ignorance due to the ālaya-vijñāna. Since this does not liberate one from the three realms, various sufferings will ripen. Therefore, by clearing away ignorance, suffering is cleared away. For example, if the causal seed, root, or fruit is not sown, nothing will grow; but by sowing it, whatever is desired will arise. Likewise, from the initial cause of ignorance, the ālaya-vijñāna arises, and from that, self-knowing mindfulness emerges. Thus, from the seed the sprout arises. If the causal seed is not utilized, the branches, leaves, and so forth will flourish. Similarly, if the root of the ālaya is not severed, the various branches of cyclic existence’s pleasure and pain will emerge; thus, from the cause of the sprout, the branches arise.
Now, even if one realizes the contradiction of the non-remembering, unborn, and mind-transcending state, the analogy for being intensely attached to the mindfulness of appearances is like jumping into a pit even while seeing it. Regarding the authentic nature of phenomena (dharmatā), the innate, coemergent wisdom, the very essence of the nature of mind, there is no logical proof or...
It cannot be established through the gateway of reasoning; for it is devoid of both unity and multiplicity, and thus lacks intrinsic nature. Even if one speaks of attachment and so forth, because the ultimate lack of intrinsic nature is not realized, one analyzes the mind in terms of unity and multiplicity. In the state of the ultimate intention of the Buddha, which is without recollection and without mental engagement, all virtues are gathered; this is the Jewel of the Saṅgha. From the state of being unborn and unceasing, the eighty-four thousand gateways of the Dharma are capable of arising; this is the Jewel of the Dharma. In the state that transcends the intellect and is inconceivable, all conceptual constructions are cleared away and the meaning of suchness flourishes and emerges; this is the Jewel of the Buddha. These three are luminous and close to oneself, yet because they are not realized in that way, one engages in meditation with recollective awareness. Since one is not close to the Three Jewels in that manner, there is no liberation from the three realms of saṃsāra: "Having abandoned luminosity, one goes into the states of existence." Furthermore, there are two aspects to recollection: if one performs virtuous deeds, one attains the three higher realms; if one engages in the ten non-virtues, one goes to the three lower realms. Even if one has the capacity, engaging in non-virtue is like seeing a pit of fire and then leaping into it. There is no state more pitiable than such a person who, while seeing the pit, enters it. Even if one feels compassion and introduces them to the Dharma, they will continue to strive in non-virtue. Even if the meaning of the three conditions-free states is taught, they will proceed upon the three conditions.
What could be more pitiable than that? Now, as for the analogy of being attached to the action seal (karmamudrā) out of delusion: it is like a lustful man asking for news of Kāmarūpa. In the crown wheel of great bliss, there resides a white syllable HAṂ, facing downward. In the throat wheel of enjoyment, there resides a yellow syllable E, facing upward. In the heart wheel of phenomena, there resides a blue syllable HŪṂ, facing downward. In the navel wheel of emanation, there resides a red syllable A, facing upward. Thus, in these four wheels, the crown and throat are joined in union, and the heart and navel are joined in union. A white drop, about the size of a spider’s thread, gradually fills the four wheels. If one meditates on the bliss of that and becomes attached, or if one joins in union with the wisdom consort of the action seal and—having established the perception of the body as the deity, the mind as the dharma, and the speech as the mantra—becomes attached to the bliss of descending, holding, reversing, and bringing the bodhicitta to its place, and becomes thoroughly attached to that union, then that bliss is not the ultimate and is associated with outflows. Why is that? Because its cause is limited, its location is limited, and its time is limited. Furthermore, it does not arise from causes such as saliva or mucus; it does not arise from locations other than the vajra and lotus; and it does not arise at times other than when the vajra and lotus meet. Therefore, being a conditioned phenomenon, subject to change, and adventitious, it is not the ultimate.
Because the deluded grasp at it as the ultimate, the deluded claim, "This itself is the ultimate." That which is called the "ultimate" is the expanse of non-mental engagement, which is neither joined to nor separated from the three times. Within that state, the emanations of mindfulness arise; yet, to meditate on the four wheels of mindfulness and to hope for liberation by becoming attached to the proliferation and withdrawal from the vajra and lotus of mindfulness is, for example, like leaving one's own possessions in the house and searching for what is not there at the door.
To leave the house and, at the threshold, become attached to the bliss of the union of the action seal (karmamudrā) is, for example, like a man of extreme lust who, failing to find a female companion, goes to the door and speaks of lust to all his friends. By generating a sense of bliss and forming a longing for it, he is just like one who, failing to find the sublime bliss through bliss with signs, exerts himself in phenomena that fail to liberate one from the three realms: the kāma of the desire realm, the rūpa of the form realm, and the arūpa of the formless realm. Thus, he asks about the talk of kāmarūpa.
Now, the analogy for the deluded being attached to the winds is shown by the example of "conquering through longing." In that regard, a yogi of the winds restrains the upper wind and draws the lower wind upward. By exerting himself in a meditation of vivid emptiness, such as training the body, he meditates on bliss within that house of emptiness. Regarding the method of meditating on bliss within the house of emptiness, which is the cause of the winds: having restrained the two winds of the lalanā and rasanā channels, [he meditates].
Having inserted a subtle, needle-like red wind into the central avadhūtī, the white bodhicitta descends from the crown of the head, and the experience of bliss arises. This is an artificial [method] produced through many various means. Since the artificial is conditioned (saṃskṛta), it does not lead to liberation; therefore, because it is an artificial fabrication in many ways, it is a flawed meditation. Alternatively, having meditated on the body as empty like space, and having meditated on the mind as a white drop (bindu) of the nature of bodhicitta, to grasp that contaminated bliss which has arisen as being ultimate is a flawed meditation. Thus, for the yogi who, having generated longing for contaminated bliss—the flawed descent of the body into space—hopes and strives to meditate in order to be victorious over saṃsāra, it is artificial. Therefore, it is the "yogi who is victorious through longing."
Now, the example of the "mixed" [practice] is shown, which is the non-contradictory "ultimate fire offering" (homa) that does not conflict with the Brahmin’s fire offering. For example, the substances for a Brahmin’s fire offering are the burning of butter, rice, and sesame. The non-contradictory fire offering is the burning of the sesame of mindfulness, the butter of emptiness, and the rice of appearance within the hearth of non-arising. Just as a Brahmin [uses] butter and rice:
Furthermore, if a Brahmin piles wood in the center of a maṇḍala, lights a fire, and desires to burn away sins by burning the aforementioned substances, that is an external fire offering. However, if one desires to burn away conceptual thoughts by igniting the nature of caṇḍālī at the navel, that is the internal fire offering.
Having meditated on the maṇḍala of the deity at the heart, one makes the mouth the fire pit and the two hands the pouring and ladling spoons. Taking food as the offering substance, the thought that the yidam deity at the heart is being pleased is the secret fire offering. Because offering the various mentally constructed substances into the fire pit that transcends the intellect is the fire offering of suchness. Regarding the fire offering performed in a blazing fire: the intention of the Brahmins is that one should meditate on oneself as empty space and meditate on the substances as empty. By performing the fire offering, they claim that one attains liberation by pleasing the deity of space-like emptiness with the essence of the offering substances. In terms of the actual meaning, space is emptiness and the essence of the substances is appearance. Since both are generated and dissolved into the inconceivable expanse, the substance of the essence of space is the generator. Artificial fire offerings and a contrived emptiness cause one to cling to cyclic existence itself; however, if the ultimate fire offering is realized, one clings to the inseparability from the expanse of the nature of phenomena (dharmatā), and thus it is known as clinging to suchness itself.
Now, the artificial yoga is shown to be a joke: some claim that by the union of Heruka and consort at the crown, the inner heat (caṇḍālī) is ignited from the navel and the bodhicitta is brought down. By entering downward through the Brahma-aperture, bliss is born, and they claim this is the ultimate truth. Because this is artificial, some ignite light at the Brahma-abode.
At that time, a sensation of itching or a tingling pleasure arises from rubbing one's tongue against the palate, and this is said to be the ultimate. Consequently, the tongue of the kunturu is slightly moved. Since such a pleasure is a fabricated, contaminated pleasure that binds one to the three realms of cyclic existence, and because one grasps at what is not the ultimate as being the ultimate, it causes the mind of the ultimate to be terrified, leading to death and extreme agitation. Regarding the experience of the pleasure arising from the interdependent connection of empowerment, one says out of pride that it is the ultimate; because such a person is a fabricated yogi, they are called a "yogi under the power of pride."
Now, to demonstrate the experience of the contradictory through the analogy of glass and emerald: regarding the experiences of bliss such as the bindu meditated upon through mindful awareness, caṇḍālī, and the maṇḍalas of gods and goddesses, one takes these to be the ultimate. By applying one's own experience to awareness and then teaching it to others, one says: "Self-awareness itself depends on another awareness." No matter how much one strives in the meditation and contemplation of mindfulness and so forth, thinking it will lead to liberation, it is merely binding oneself, just as a silkworm is bound by its own saliva. Therefore, to desire the cause of liberation from the very cause of bondage is the mark of an unskilled person. For example, if a person with an internal ailment is given molasses and ginger, it helps; but if that same person is later carried away by water, to say, "Give him molasses and ginger and it will help," is like that. For this reason, it is said that "that which binds is itself the liberation." For example, in searching for a precious emerald:
Having searched for a glass trinket, one sees it as similar [to a gem]; though its color and shape are similar, its qualities are not. Likewise, the three—the luminous essence of the nature of mind, which is non-recollection, non-arising, and beyond the intellect—are like a precious emerald, while the recollection and awareness arising from the mind are like glass trinkets. They appear similar, yet their qualities are different. "By the distinction of color, glass is called emerald." Because the deluded do not recognize the actual jewel, they mistake the glass trinket for the jewel and fail to obtain its value. Similarly, those who do not understand fail to recognize the non-conceptual expanse, the luminous essence of the nature of mind that cannot be taken as an object of thought, and the conceptual causes of recollection and awareness arising from the mind. Because the deluded do not know how to examine the precious jewel:
Now, the example of brass illustrates the grasping at experience as the ultimate. For example, failing to recognize the actual jewel, one treats brass as gold, and sees gold as brass. Likewise, failing to realize the meaning of the uncontrived nature of phenomena (dharmatā) that is untouched by the intellect, one does not grasp it as the ultimate. Instead, one grasps as the ultimate the phenomena of conceptual elaboration and conditioned things—the conceptual thoughts of recollection. Thus: "One takes brass with the mind that thinks it is gold."
Furthermore, regarding the phenomena of recollection—appearance-emptiness, awareness-emptiness, the channels and winds, and the drops—one calls the bliss of experience, in which the two are lost and the two are equal, the "ultimate." By exerting oneself intensely in effort and achievement, one carries that experience and attempts to realize the ultimate. However, that experience, along with its habitual tendencies, is subject to destruction.
For example, during the time of a dream, through the perception of attachment to a man, one learns of father and mother, and of good and bad; yet upon waking, none of it is true. Likewise, one becomes attached to the bliss of the action seal (karmamudrā) and the bliss of the channels and caṇḍālī and so forth. Because they are artificial and subject to destruction, one becomes attached to the bliss of a dream. Failing to realize that all phenomena produced by the mind are like a dream, one becomes fixated on the contaminated bliss of mental awareness, saying that the mind will accompany bliss when the aggregates (skandha) perish. However, it is impossible for something permanent to depend on impermanent aggregates, because the nature of the phenomena (dharmin) is powerful. Thus, to say that the aggregates are impermanent but bliss is permanent is a contradiction.
Now, for the example of the mixture and the example of the contradiction: Evaṃ is like the reflection in a mirror, which is without attachment; the non-contradictory Evaṃ of the ultimate meaning is to be shown by the four seals of the ultimate meaning. Furthermore, in the triangular E of the source of phenomena (dharmodaya), the space of the wisdom consort, the Vam of the method, the vajra, abides in the manner of union. Through this union, bliss and emptiness are recognized. Moreover, since bliss does not appear as a location, it is sealed by the emptiness of non-mental engagement; this inseparability of appearance and emptiness is the non-abiding union. To understand it in that way is the view. To understand that bliss is sealed by emptiness is meditation. At that time, all appearances are liberated into awareness. To understand that awareness is sealed by emptiness is the realization of emptiness.
Thus, the attainment of the nature of the three kāyas through such meditation is the result; this is the e-vaṃ of the example of contradiction. As for the e-vaṃ of the meaning of non-contradiction: e is the expanse free from the three conditions, naturally pure; within that, vaṃ is the adventitious arising of the three appearances. Alternatively, from the expanse of non-recollection (e), vaṃ arises as a mere emanation of recollection. Although a multitude of syllables—the objects of expression—arise, when the nature of both recollection and non-recollection is simply unarisen, that is the understanding of the unborn meaning of suchness; the syllables e-vaṃ make this understood of themselves.
For an individual who has not realized this, regarding the experience of the third empowerment: by looking outward, the four moments are identified; by looking inward, the four joys are identified. At that time, the first joy is the experience of the supreme joy of the action seal (karmamudrā), and the experience of the dharma seal (dharmamudrā). At the time of coemergent joy, the assertion of this as Mahāmudrā is the example. In terms of the actual meaning, when the method of recollection and the wisdom of non-recollection are joined at the time of being pointed out by the sign of the sublime guru, the four moments of the meaning, the four joys of the meaning, and the four seals of the meaning arise. At the moment of recollecting any one of these, a variety of emanations arise in a single instant; because the first joy arises from the birth of both liking and disliking within that instant of variety, it is the "instant of variety." Because that recollection does not transcend the variety of appearances, it is the "action seal."
By realizing that mindfulness is adventitious, one knows that the place of its arising, its abiding, and its dissolving are the expanse of non-mindfulness; this is the moment when mindfulness ripens into non-mindfulness. Since there is nothing else prior to non-mindfulness and non-mental engagement, it is supreme joy. Since the eighty-four thousand heaps of Dharma can arise from the expanse of non-mental engagement, it is the Dharma mudrā. When both mindfulness and non-mindfulness dissolve into the unborn expanse and the characteristics of both are absent, it is the moment free of characteristics. Since mindfulness and non-mindfulness are coemergent within the state of the unborn, it is coemergent joy. Since the essence of the unborn does not transcend the non-arising of both mindfulness and non-mindfulness, it is the samaya mudrā. Since mindfulness, non-mindfulness, and the unborn—all three—are absent in the expanse beyond the intellect, it is the moment of non-appearance. Since that very state is free from conceit, it is the joy beyond joy. Because the expanse beyond the intellect pervades all, it is Mahāmudrā. Thus, the four mudrās are established through the divisions of the moments.
Individuals who lack the lineage may claim that the bliss of the action mudrā or the bliss of the channels and winds is the ultimate coemergent. However, experience is mindfulness, and mindfulness is an emanation; an emanation itself is subject to destruction. Therefore, the coemergent of experience is not the ultimate. For that reason, it is called the "coemergent of experience." The ultimate, however, can be shown by the guru through various symbols and methods.
The expanse free from identification is stainless and devoid of the three conditions, like a mirror. Experience, however, is the appearance of conditions accompanied by stains, like a reflection in a mirror. For example, it is like a monkey who sees the reflection of the moon in a well and, thinking it is in a bronze bowl, tries to take it but fails to obtain it. Likewise, when the reflection of mindfulness arises within the state of non-mindfulness, even if one exerts effort, it is pointless. Thus, one should not cling to the reflection, just as one looks into a mirror.
Now, to illustrate the ultimate through a conventional example of contradiction, it is shown by the example of a mirage: for instance, when a mirage appears in the spring, sentient beings tormented by thirst pursue it, thinking it is water, but they do not reach it. Similarly, because the true nature of the essence of phenomena is not recognized as being untainted by conditions, one becomes intensely attached to the mindfulness that appears through conditions. Thinking that fabricated bliss is the enlightened intent of the Buddha, one clings and craves it. Just as deer and others are deluded by a mirage, thinking it is water when it is not, so too are those who do not realize the truth deluded by grasping at the bliss of mindfulness as being ultimate when it is not. Because those who do not realize it fall under the power of the delusion of mindfulness, they run about under the influence of that delusion. Those who are intensely attached to the bliss of mindful awareness are ignorant of the ultimate. Since the ultimate transcends the domain of the intellect, it will not be attained even if one is tormented by mindful awareness. Consequently, one will be bound within the three realms of cyclic existence.
Through delusion, one is bound by an insatiable thirst. Because contaminated pleasure is called "ultimate" yet vanishes despite one's efforts, those who take such pleasure to be the ultimate are refuted by the preceding section. Now, the establishment of our own system is shown by way of the "Lotus" analogy. First, regarding the unchanging view, the four—non-recollection, non-awareness, non-arising, and beyond the intellect—are taught as the two truths: the conventional truth and the ultimate truth.
Within the conventional truth, there are two: the false conventional and the authentic conventional. The false conventional consists of delusion and the deluded cognition. Delusion refers to all these appearances. The cognition that grasps at delusion is recollection and awareness; because these two are of a nature that deviates from and perishes from the undeluded intent of the Buddha, they are the false conventional.
The authentic conventional is that which, through the signs and methods of that recollection and awareness, is pointed out as being demonstrable yet devoid of anything to be identified. This is the expanse of non-recollection, the essence of the nirmāṇakāya. Why is it called the "authentic conventional"? From the perspective of the kāya, it is authentic; from the perspective of the emanation, it is conventional. Furthermore, because it is devoid of identification, it is authentic; because it is demonstrable, it is conventional. Thus, the conventional truth is non-recollection, while the ultimate truth is the mind of recollection.
When both the mind of non-recollection and the mind of non-arising have simply ceased to exist within the expanse of non-arising, it is unchanging and free from conceptualization, unborn and unceasing. Because it is the essence of the saṃbhogakāya, the mind has become non-existent. When both the non-recollective nirmāṇakāya and the unborn saṃbhogakāya dissolve into the state of the dharmakāya which transcends the intellect, there is nothing superior to that nature of phenomena (dharmatā) untainted by conditions. Thus, although these three bodies appear as distinct due to conditions, they are not different in essence. For example, the space inside a vase, the space in the hollow of the hands, and space itself—these three are distinct due to conditions, yet when the conditions of the vase and the hands are removed, those three spaces are not different. Likewise, from the three—the nirmāṇakāya through the condition of appearance, the saṃbhogakāya through the condition of emptiness, and the dharmakāya through the condition of non-arising—when untainted by those three conditions, they are not distinct, separate, or different. That expanse of non-duality is unstained by any mud; when realized in that way, it is the body of great bliss unstained by mud. Showing this to a companion who possesses the capacity to receive it, the Teacher said: "O supreme and holy friends, understand this!" Now, having realized non-recollection as samādhi, the meditation free from attachment is shown by way of the analogy of being unstained by mud.
Furthermore, that mind of recollection is adventitious, arising from conditions. Like a piece of wood floating on water, or like a dream that appears despite being non-existent, it is a samādhi like an illusion; for although it appears, it lacks inherent nature. From what is it emanated? It is emanated from the expanse of non-recollection. Even as it emanates, it emanates from non-recollection, and even as it dissolves, it dissolves into non-recollection. Knowing various recollections to be mere play, and because the phenomena of recollection are overwhelmed by the splendor of non-recollection, there is the samādhi of the Lion’s Play of Non-recollection. When both recollection and non-recollection are just joined within the expanse of the unborn, both the phenomena of recollection—saṃsāra—and the phenomena of non-recollection—nirvāṇa—are destroyed. Being like an unborn hero, there is the samādhi of Liberation into the Unborn Hero. When even the conventions of the three—recollection, non-recollection, and the unborn—are not established and dissolve into the expanse beyond the intellect, such that mind and awareness cannot be analyzed, this is the samādhi of the Vajra-like Beyond the Intellect. Thus, by realizing these four samādhis, recollection is joined with non-recollection, non-recollection is joined with the unborn, and the unborn is joined with that which transcends the intellect. The mind is thus joined with the samādhi of non-recollection. When one knows that all phenomena that have been mentally engaged are joined within the expanse of non-engagement, all stains of the afflictions—attachment, aversion, and so forth—are purified within the expanse of non-engagement. The causes of the three lower realms are exhausted, and one is free from suffering. As for the stains of the knowable, whether they be the maṇḍalas of gods and goddesses, or...
All attachment to the bliss of the channels and winds or to the shamatha of emptiness is purified within the expanse of non-mental engagement. Even the causes for rebirth in the higher realms of gods and humans are exhausted, so that one does not take birth in the abodes of the six classes of beings. Because the supreme nirvāṇa is attained, the afflictions are completely purified; that is the very nature of reality. Thus, although the two stains arise within the expanse of non-mental engagement, one recognizes them to be like water and bubbles, or a rock and an echo, or the sky and clouds. Realizing that they arise in the expanse and subside into the expanse, even if one dwells amidst afflictions at that time, one is not stained by them. For example, just as a lotus grows from the mud yet is not stained by the defects of the mud, so it is said: "Just as the mud-born is not affected by the mud, likewise, at the very moment the expanse of non-mental engagement is realized, the expanse of total purity is unstained by any of the faults of the three types of saṃsāra or by any of the dharmas of the Victorious One’s nirvāṇa. This is because, in non-mental engagement, neither saṃsāra nor nirvāṇa is established." "Existence, arising, faults, and the Victorious One’s dharmas do not stain it."
Now, through the door of the immovable and inconceivable, knowing that mindfulness is like an illusion, the teaching on conduct without fixed certainty is as follows: All phenomena of saṃsāra, phenomena of nirvāṇa, phenomena of mindfulness, phenomena of non-mindfulness, conditioned phenomena, and unconditioned phenomena are merely renowned as illusions. Since nothing is established in the ultimate sense, one should abide in the manner of neither accepting nor rejecting anything.
All phenomena of appearance and sound are mental engagements, and mental engagement is mindfulness. That very mindfulness is the manifold of emanations; since anything can arise from an emanation, one should view it as being without certainty. Therefore, one must also view everything as being certain to be an illusion. The ground from which emanations arise without certainty is the expanse of non-mental engagement. Non-mental engagement is that which is not corrupted by the three conditions. Being free from the three conditions is the three kāyas. Those three conditions are: transcending the world, transcending mindful awareness, and being unstained by any mud. Through the special symbols and methods of the sublime guru, this can be realized in a single instant. By means of that realization, one remains in equanimity, neither accepting nor rejecting any phenomena of saṃsāra or nirvāṇa. Thus, the transcendent world is grasped and equanimity is maintained in a single instant. Those three kāyas taught by the guru are unchanging and free from conceptual thought. They cannot be expressed by words or conventions; they are not destroyed by the intellect or awareness; they are not bound by the afflictions of attachment, aversion, ignorance, and so forth; and because they are unmoved by phenomena created by the intellect, the one with a stable mind is not bound by ignorance. Those three kāyas are not to be sought elsewhere, nor are they produced from causes. They are the inconceivable, self-arisen primordial wisdom, free from thought, meditation, and conventions, which naturally abides and is spontaneously present within oneself, as the sublime guru [has taught].
Because it is taught through various symbols and methods, it is established as the self-arisen, inconceivable nature. Now, by way of showing that what is brought to mind through recollection is not the ultimate but is conventional, and by showing that all conventionalities abide as the nature of non-arising: this vividly aware experience of recollection did not exist from the beginning; it appears adventitiously through conditions and is destroyed adventitiously by conditions. The nature of phenomena (dharmatā), which is not produced by conditions, has never been born and has never ceased. In this nature that has never been known as an object of awareness, although these appearances arise, they appear merely like reflections in a mirror, because the mirror has no conceptualization of a reflection arising. The mirror-like is the expanse of non-arising, and the appearance as a reflection is a mere emanation. The emanation itself is an adventitious appearance of conditions, because in the expanse of non-arising, even an emanation or a mere adventitious thing is not established and has not been born. These appearances have not been born from the very beginning of their clarity; since the expanse of non-arising itself is inexpressible, it transcends the intellect, and that very transcendence of the intellect is Mahāmudrā. It possesses four characteristics: it is all-pervasive, formless, without coming or going, and timeless. As for being all-pervasive, it is the fundamental basis of all, pervading everything such as saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, cause and effect, appearance and emptiness, and so forth. As for being formless, it is not dependent origination or...
Although all phenomena, such as the aggregates and the elements, appear to have been produced by conditions, they are devoid of any identifiable identity and are by nature unarisen. Regarding the absence of coming and going: because there is no arising or ceasing, the nature of phenomena (dharmatā) pervades everything; it is not occasional, but is the very nature of suchness (tathatā) in all things. Regarding its being present at all times: Mahāmudrā is not a nihilistic non-existence, like the horns of a rabbit or the son of a barren woman. Rather, as the inseparability of emptiness and compassion, Mahāmudrā abides at all times. Therefore, it is not material, having completely transcended the nature of form. Mahāmudrā abides continuously in the manner of the four meditative stabilizations (samādhis); without anything to meditate upon and without distraction, one practices dhyāna uninterruptedly. Thus, one abides continuously in that very state and practices the single dhyāna. Meditative stabilization that involves something to be meditated upon and mental engagement is stained; it is not the ultimate mind. That which is without anything to be meditated upon and without mental engagement is the stainless dhyāna, for that is the ultimate mind. Thus: "Non-mental engagement, the stainless dhyāna, is not the [ordinary] mind."
Now, for the yogi who realizes that the mind, mental factors, and afflictions are inseparable, everything is shown to be the identity of Mahāmudrā. Even the mental phenomena that are mentally engaged are not separate; the intellect and mind arise adventitiously from the expanse of non-recollection (asmṛti), and although they appear as white, red, and so forth through the power of conditions, [they are Mahāmudrā].
Because they dissolve into the expanse of non-recollection, the intellect, the mind, and the appearances of the mind—these very things, as well as the three: the worldly realm, the supramundane, and nirvāṇa—are indivisible from the three kāyas when their meaning is realized. The nature of the three kāyas is also indivisible from the svabhāvakāya. The svabhāvakāya transcends thought, expression, and the verbalization of meditation; it pervades all appearances and emptiness, as well as all that is contaminated and uncontaminated, and abides as the nature of that Mahāmudrā. Whatever appears as this world or any other is itself. To see all the various phenomena of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa without exception, including the objects and the subjects who perceive appearance and emptiness, is pervaded by the nature of phenomena (dharmatā), which is unborn. Thus, seeing all variety without exception is itself the object to be seen. Attachment arises from things like a beloved child; aversion arises from things like an enemy; and ignorance is the absence of both. Since there is nothing that is not included within the state of the unborn nature of phenomena, and since the nature of mind, which is like space, is the identity of Mahāmudrā, attachment, aversion, ignorance, and even the awakened mind (bodhicitta) are themselves the identity.
Now, the instruction on taking the all-ground consciousness (ālayavijñāna) as the lamp of mindfulness is shown: the emptiness that is mentally fabricated by meditating on appearances through mindfulness is ignorance. Because one does not see that which is the Buddha’s intention—beyond mental fabrication, where the intellect and awareness do not circulate—it is like darkness.
If one asks, "Then how should one proceed?" mindfulness should be understood as being merely like a lamp. By relying on mindfulness of the guru’s symbols and various methods, the three kāyas can be revealed. For example, it is like searching for a desired object in the darkness; by relying on the light of a butter lamp, the object can be found.
Alternatively, if one opens the lotus at one’s heart and meditates on a single extremely subtle thigle, and by meditating on that without conceptualization, one claims it to be the enlightened intent (dgongs pa) of the Buddha, that should be understood as being merely like a reflection in a mirror. Beyond that, one should understand it as the equality of non-recollection. Because both of these are unarisen and unceasing, to conceptualize them as the wisdom of individual discernment, the wisdom of all-accomplishing activity—which is free from all effort and seeking—and the wisdom of the expanse of reality (dharmadhātu) which is free from awareness or analytical investigation, is merely a lamp.
Thus:
"The lamp of the darkness of ignorance is lit;
Because mindfulness is not known as a lamp,
One grasps at one’s own continuum, thinking,
'This is saṃsāra,' and 'This is nirvāṇa.'
By creating such good and bad conceptualizations,
One is bound within the three realms of saṃsāra."
As long as one is divided by the inconceivable distinctions of the mind—such as "this is meditation" and "this is non-meditation"—one remains in saṃsāra. Even if such inconceivable mental distinctions arise for a yogi of realization, through the instructions of the sublime guru, one understands them to be mere emanations. Knowing that emanations themselves are adventitious and that the adventitious always vanishes into the expanse, one is unstained by the two types of defilement. Thus:
"For that long, the stains of the mind are abandoned."
That expanse in which emanations vanish is one where mindfulness and awareness have not arrived, and it is unstained by the mud of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. It transcends hearing, reflection, and meditation. Because it cannot be clung to by the intellect or by awareness, it is said: "By what nature could one think of that which is without clinging?"
Now, to show that when realized there is nothing to negate or establish: These thoughts born of conditions need not be negated, for they vanish like clouds in the sky. Non-thought need not be established, for it arises naturally. Therefore, since sentient beings are not negated and a Buddha is not established, there is no negation and no establishment. When both thought and non-thought are purified in their very non-arising, that non-arising itself is free from identification. There is no intention to abandon sentient beings or to adopt nirvāṇa. That which transcends thought and expression is the inconceivable expanse. Since it is the great bliss unstained by any mud, it is without grasping and is inconceivable.
Those deluded ones who do not realize it in this way cling to many dualistic cognitions, such as "this is saṃsāra" and "this is nirvāṇa," or "this is meditative equipoise." By clinging to such dualistic perceptions, they are bound within the three realms of saṃsāra. Thus, "the deluded are bound by the divisions of the intellect." However, for the yogi who realizes the ultimate meaning, saṃsāra and nirvāṇa are realized as inseparable. Conditioned and unconditioned phenomena are realized as inseparable. When all dualistic cognitions, such as the cognitions of śamatha and vipaśyanā, are purified into the coemergent nature of appearance, [the state is reached].
When all causes are purified as the coemergent emptiness of all causes, it is called the "purification of the path." When both cause and path are purified within the expanse of the unborn, it is called the "purification of the result." When all three—cause, path, and result—are realized without being touched by the conceptual mind, they are purified as indivisible; thus, it is the "indivisible, utterly pure coemergence."
Now, to show that there is nothing to meditate upon through realization and that the mind is liberated: The emptiness of the nature of phenomena (dharmatā) as analyzed through the reasonings of the Middle Way and Valid Cognition, such as the "neither one nor many," is not the emptiness that transcends the authentic mind. Therefore: "It is not a single identity analyzed as one or many."
If one asks how the meaning of the nature of phenomena is to be known: Through mindfulness, one knows the absence of mindfulness. By knowing the absence of mindfulness, one realizes that mindfulness is adventitious. By realizing that mindfulness is adventitious, one knows that mindfulness is devoid of ground or root. One knows the characteristic of the absence of mindfulness to be unborn. One knows the essence of the unborn to be beyond the conceptual mind. When realized in this way, the three—absence of mindfulness, the unborn, and that which transcends the mind—are known as the three kāyas. The yogi who realizes them within the state of these three is liberated. Furthermore, mindfulness is liberated into the emptiness of the absence of mindfulness; the absence of mindfulness is liberated into the unborn, which is signless; and the unborn is liberated into the wishless, which transcends the mind. Thus, "by mere knowing, beings are completely liberated." These three kāyas themselves are unstained by any conditions and are without meditation. If meditation were clear, it would be a clarity of conceptual thought; if it were not clear, meditation would be pointless. Therefore, the ultimate truth cannot be made into an object of meditation.
By remaining in the yoga of the continuous river flow without interruption, one is always abiding; thus, it is shown how to meditate by knowing whatever clarity arises. The various forms of mindfulness arising from the mind are characterized by movement and fluctuation. The essence of the nature of mind—mindfulness-less, unborn, and beyond the intellect—is the unwavering vajra-like samādhi. When one simply knows that these fluctuating movements of the awareness of mental factors dissolve naturally into that state, one holds mindfulness as mindfulness-less, holds the mindfulness-less as unborn, and holds the unborn as beyond the intellect. Thus, the unwavering mind is held as that very identity.
Now, to show that by attaining great bliss one is not harmed by objects: since the three states of mindfulness-less, unborn, and beyond the intellect are unstained by the mud of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, they are the joy of being free from suffering. These three kāyas are the domain that triumphs over the three aspects of saṃsāra; having attained the domain expanded by joy, the unborn and unceasing nature of phenomena (dharmatā) is realized and internalized through the various signs and methods shown by the sublime guru. Because this causes the three realms, the three kāyas, and the three times to expand into equality, it is said: "By seeing, the mind is fully expanded."
Because the guru has shown the intent of the Buddha through signs and methods, one sees the meaning of the three kāyas exactly as it is. From that, one performs the necessary function of producing whatever results are desired for the benefit of sentient beings; thus, "by that, the purpose is found therein." At the time of acting for the benefit of sentient beings without conceptualization, although this mindfulness radiates in various ways, [it remains within the state].
Because various emanations arise according to the inclinations of whoever encounters them, they emerge from non-recollection, abide within the state of non-recollection, and dissolve into the expanse of non-recollection. Thus, recollection and non-recollection are not inseparable. For example, no matter how many different objects one fashions from clay, or how many images of gods and goddesses, or how many castles and dwellings one constructs, they never deviate from the clay itself. Likewise, whatever appears to recollection—whether forms, sounds, smells, tastes, or tactile sensations—does not transcend recollection. Since the very arising, abiding, and dissolving of recollection itself do not transcend non-recollection, they are not distinct even if one flees to the objects.
Now, to show that although the two form bodies emanate from the unelaborated dharmakāya of great bliss, the result is one: from that state which transcends the mind and is unstained by the mud of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, the benefit of sentient beings is able to arise. Because it is the cause of the sprout, it is said: "The sprout of joy and bliss." Furthermore, within the two form bodies that act for the benefit of sentient beings, the saṃbhogakāya is supreme because the miraculous display of arising occurs from the unborn saṃbhogakāya. The saṃbhogakāya in relation to the nirmāṇakāya is supreme, and the nirmāṇakāya appearing in whatever way is necessary to subdue beings is merely a petal of the dharmakāya and saṃbhogakāya. Thus, it is the "supreme petal" that has grown. While the saṃbhogakāya and nirmāṇakāya radiate in various ways for the sake of sentient beings, the dharmakāya, which transcends these, neither acts for nor fails to act for the benefit of sentient beings, and does not radiate anywhere at all; therefore, it does not radiate in the ten directions for as long as they exist. As for bliss with elaboration:
It is a result associated with outflows (sāsrava). The dharmakāya, free from conceptual elaboration (niṣprapañca), is a result free from hope and fear, unstained by the mud, and is thus a result without outflows (anāsrava). Therefore, it is the very result of the absence of elaboration.
Now, to demonstrate that in the ultimate sense (paramārtha) neither "sentient beings" nor "buddhas" are established: there is no non-virtuous action by which one falls into the state of a sentient being, no one who falls into the state of a sentient being, and no one who has fallen into the state of a sentient being in the ultimate sense. There is no virtue by which one becomes a buddha, no one who becomes a buddha, and no one who has become a buddha in the ultimate sense. Thus: "By whom, where, and for whom do these not exist?"
If one asks, "In that case, is there no intention (abhiprāya) in realizing the Buddha's intention?"—since one realizes that in the ultimate sense both buddhas and sentient beings do not exist, that expanse (dhātu) free from hope and fear performs the necessary function of maturing and liberating all sentient beings. Thus: "By that, there, for that, the purpose is performed."
The thought, "I shall act for the benefit of sentient beings," is a mind accompanied by habitual tendencies (vāsanā). Not acting for the benefit of sentient beings is mindfulness free of habitual tendencies. Since neither of these is accepted nor rejected within the unborn expanse, one abides in the state of equality (samatā). Thus: "Of attachment and non-attachment..."
Because the various appearances are adventitious, they are empty by nature; thus, appearance is also emptiness. Since manifold emanations for the benefit of sentient beings arise from emptiness itself, emptiness is also appearance. Since these two are indivisible within the state of the inconceivable, "form itself is emptiness."
Now, as for the final point, the king said: "Sārāha, you are like a pig because you have no sense of what to adopt or abandon. First you were a Brahmin, then you became a renunciant, and now you claim there is no distinction between pure and impure. Thus, you are attached to saṃsāra and will not be liberated from the three realms; there is no difference between you and a pig." In response, I said:
"Like a pig clinging to the mud of existence,
Since I have realized the meaning of the nature of phenomena (dharmatā),
I am unstained by the two types of defilements:
the stains of the afflictions and the stains of the knowable.
Therefore, I have no grasping at the pure or the impure,
For I am untainted by any fault whatsoever.
If the mind has become stainless, what fault could there be?
Why is there no fault? Because even the five sensory qualities
cannot stain the ultimate reality.
Since nothing can stain it,
and the nature of phenomena is unpolluted by faults,
even the five afflictions cannot bind it.
So how could it be bound by them?"
Having thus taught the meaning of the text in its entirety through twenty-three analogies, I shall now explain the meaning of the title. In the expanse that is never separate from the innate, natural, and coemergent, all of the three times and the three realms are unified. Because he has realized the enlightened intent of the Sugatas of the three times, he has attained mastery in the ultimate expanse of yoga that transcends the intellect. He has transformed the three realms into the three kāyas and, having internalized the meaning of Mahāmudrā, he is the Great Lord (Maheśvara). He teaches that all phenomena are non-dual, teaches them as great bliss, and teaches them as being free from decrease.
Because he teaches that there is neither decrease nor increase, he is the glorious Saraha. These points, having been transmitted from the Buddha until the present without interruption, were composed as instructions for the sake of the future; thus, they are "composed by the venerable one." What was composed? Having conquered all dualistic appearances without exception, he rebuked dualistic appearance and sang this song of the unerring nature of phenomena, which is without decrease or increase. It is sealed with seven layers of secrecy, a meaning that is extremely profound. Among the three—elaborate, unelaborate, and very unelaborate—this was composed as the very unelaborate. Because it captivates the mind of all recollection within the state of non-recollection, it is called the Dohā-kośa, a song of conduct. It concludes with the words, "The meaning of the nature of phenomena has been established through every symbol and method," which is the intended sense.
Although the realization of the Sugatas of the three times is not an object of the intellect, through the compassion of equanimity, it pervades all sentient beings. The three bodies are spontaneously present without hope or fear, and cyclic existence is pure by nature. The essential meaning is the liberation of one's own continuum through thought free from effort. It is not an object of experience for those who follow after recollection, and thus it is distant from the [ordinary] meaning. In the meaning of the natural mode of abiding, sentient beings and buddhas are not established as separate. I have found this from the heart of the mountain-dwelling Lord Maitreya and Vajrapāṇi.
Whoever grasps as true the words of this madman of unborn great bliss, through this slight composition of symbols and meaning that lacks a [literal] connection between words and sense, may the three realms without exception attain the three bodies, blazing with the light of mindfulness.
The commentary on the Dohā-koṣa, the song of conduct entitled The Lamp of Meaning, composed by the great lord of yogins, the venerable Kyeme Dechen, and translated and finalized by himself, is hereby complete.
Translation status: Not among 84000's published translations. A bibliography of the canon lists 1 English-language publication(s) on this text, e.g. Guenther, Herbert V., ″The Lamp Revealing the Meaning of the 'Song on Human Action—the Treasure of Dohās'″ (1969). in The Royal Song of Saraha, p. 75-201 passim Seattle: Univ. of Washington Press; repr. Berkeley and London: Shambala, 1973 — these may include a full or partial translation. (source: 84000 catalogue + registry; checked 2026-11-10).
Set in Newsreader and EB Garamond; Tibetan in Noto Serif Tibetan; Chinese in Noto Serif SC.