Cracking the walnut, p.17
Cracking the Walnut, page 17
11. If things have a self-nature, and therefore are not nonexistent,
that is eternalism.
If they previously existed and now exist no more,
that is nihilism.
若法有定性
非無則是常
先有而今無
是則為斷滅
If we say that phenomena have a self-nature and that they are not nonexistent, we are caught in the view of eternalism. If we see that before something was and now it no longer is, we are caught in the view of nihilism.
We see someone sitting before us and we believe that they exist. When that person dies, we say they no longer exist. This is how people normally think when they do not practice or meditate. A large number of scientists have the tendency to think like this; they have scientific knowledge, but the way they see things is not scientific. Many scientists fall into the view of nihilism without knowing it, and yet a small number of outstanding scientists are capable of transcending this nihilistic view.
Let us consider saṃsāra and continuation. When a candle is lit, it begins to be alive. It produces light, heat, a smell, and chemical elements like carbonic acid. Anything that burns needs oxygen and carbon. Life is combustion; without combustion there is no life. The candle is a beautiful metaphor for life. First of all, it needs carbon, and then it needs oxygen. We are the same. Our food contains carbon; a cube of sugar (C6H12O6) contains a great deal of it. When we breathe in, we bring air into our lungs. In the air there is the oxygen (O2) that is needed for combustion (respiration) to take place in our cells, and heat is produced. Without this combustion, we would not have a body temperature of 37 C (98.6 F). Inside us there is combustion at every moment. While glucose burns in contact with oxygen, we produce other elements—such as CO2—as well.
The food we eat, the water we drink, and the air we breathe are inputs. We produce other things that are called outputs: excrement, urine, perspiration, and exhalation. While it burns, the candle eliminates carbon dioxide. A city like Paris eliminates huge amounts of carbon dioxide every twenty-four hours. If there were not large forests on land and green algae in the ocean this carbon dioxide could not be absorbed and people would die. Forests and algae are essential for human survival; they absorb CO2 and produce oxygen (O2). When you cut down trees or pollute the ocean, you are cutting down human life.
From the perspective of matter, the candle produces light, heat, and CO2. We do not see it going anywhere or doing anything, and so when it is completely burnt we say that it no longer exists. The truth is that the candle goes into the universe under different forms. When we don’t see it anymore, we say that it has gone from being to nonbeing. This is unscientific! There is nothing which can go from being to nonbeing, or from nonbeing to being. The same is true for us. From the perspective of our physical body, we are entering the cosmos with every out-breath.
From the perspective of the mind, we produce thoughts, words, and actions, each of which are our continuation. We call this continuation “the actions (karma) of body, speech, and mind.” They precipitate a chain reaction of cause and effect in the cosmos. They are us. Therefore, when this body disintegrates, we do not disintegrate; we are still very much there in the cosmos. Only the eyes of science—the eyes of insight—are able to see our continuation.
When this body of mine perishes, it will be wrong to say that I am no more. I am alive in you and in many other people and places. If you have the eyes of science and of insight, you will be able to see that I am still there and that there is no way I could go from being to nonbeing. It would defy science. This is true for all people and all other species. A flower, a cloud, or a young child: none can go from being to nonbeing. If you imagine these things existed before and that now they have ceased to exist, you would be naïve and unscientific. A real scientist and a meditation practitioner both must be capable of seeing that in truth there is neither being nor nonbeing.
In the previous chapters we have learned about no birth and no death, no coming and no going, and in the present chapter we have learned that there is neither being nor nonbeing. Only when we can see this truth do we completely overcome fear and touch true happiness. If we are still anxious and afraid that one day we will go from being to nonbeing, our happiness cannot be complete. We practice in order to have the insight of “neither being nor nonbeing.” The practice is not just a salve to soothe anxiety and sadness. It is essential to meditate on the reality of phenomena in order to see their nature of neither being nor nonbeing.
* Dignāga - Pramāṇasamuccaya.
* For the text, see Chanting from the Heart, Vol. 1, Parallax Press, 2023. For the text and commentary, see Thich Nhat Hanh, Beyond the Self, Parallax Press 2009.
* A poem in the Nom script written by Nguyễn Gia Thiều (1741–98).
* The author's most recent translation of the Heart Sutra. For text and commentary, see The Other Shore, Parallax Press, 2017.
† Guangdong, Guangxi, Hainan, Hong Kong, Macau, S. Fujian.
5
Examination of Fire and Fuel
The tenth chapter of the Verses on the Middle Way is on fire (agni) and fuel (indhana). This chapter shows us that there is no enduring subject; there is no separate self lying inside us (a self-nature) or lying inside others (an other-nature). The way Nāgārjuna uses dialectics here is fascinating. The example of fire and fuel is found in other places, for example, in the theories of some of the mainstream Buddhist schools that use it to try to demonstrate that there is a subject, an enduring self in time and space.
1. If fire were fuel
then actor and action would be one.
If fire were other than fuel
then without fuel there could be fire.
若燃是可燃
作作者則一
若燃異可燃
離可燃有燃
If fire (the burning) is fuel (that which is burned), this means that the action and the thing that produces the action—the actor—are one.
Here we are distinguishing two things: the subject that acts and the action. For example, in the phrase “I sit,” we distinguish I and sit; in the phrase “I die,” we distinguish I and die. Are I and sit, I and die one or two? Nāgārjuna demonstrates gradually that if the burning and the thing being burned are one, then the actor and the action are one.
On the other hand, if the fire is not the fuel which is being burned, then there could be something separate called fire apart from the fuel. If you say that the fire and the log are one, you are saying that the burning and the thing being burned are one. If you say that the fire and the log are two different things, you have to conclude that there can be burning without the thing being burned.
The candle that has not yet been lit cannot be said to be fuel. Normally we think that the fuel can exist separately from the fire, and that it is simply waiting for the fire to arrive. The fire cannot exist separately from the fuel; it is not possible to say that the fire can exist independently of the fuel. To say that the fire is the fuel is also wrong. Saying that the fire and the fuel are two different things means that the fuel can contain fire; this is also not reasonable. This is the beginning of the string that will lead us to the insight of nonself.
We have the tendency to think that there is a separate self, or an actor, who is always there, ready to perform an action. Brother Pháp Hữu must be there in order to be able to hold the umbrella or to make tea. We tend to separate Brother Pháp Hữu, who is the actor, from the action of making tea or holding the umbrella, but this is a mistaken way of thinking. Are Brother Pháp Hữu and the action of making tea the same thing or are they two separate things? We cannot prove either way. The actor and the action rely on each other. We always think that there is a real entity waiting there and that this real entity goes to this place to perform this action or to that place to perform that action. This is because of our ignorance.
We say: I know the wind is blowing. How absurd! Can the wind be a reality separate from blowing? Can there be a wind that does not blow? If it does not blow, it cannot be called wind.
When we say the wind blows, we witness the strangeness of the way we think and use words. The wind is always blowing; there is only one reality and that is the wind. There is a knowledge of what is happening. We think that there must be an I for a perception to take place. However, ask yourself: Can the perception be there without the I and can the I be there without the perception?
In the sentence “I know the wind is blowing,” we can remove the word “is blowing.” The wind is the object of perception. Are the object of the perception (the wind) and the subject of the perception (the knowing) the same or two different things? Can the two exist independently from each other? We can remove the knowing because wind is the object of the knowing. So instead of a long sentence like “I know the wind is blowing,” we can simply say “Wind!” This one word includes the whole sentence, “I know the wind is blowing.” In wind there is no self, no actor, and no action. There is just an event taking place. When you have a thought or a feeling, you do not think there has to be a person or a subject there first and then the thought or the feeling happens. You do not need an actor.
This is the skillful means used by Nāgārjuna to help us to see the irrationality of our thinking. We are caught in an idea of a self. Our thinking is based on a self—a separate reality. The principle of such thinking and reasoning is called “the principle of identity.” A is A and A is not B. Once we are A we can only be A and we cannot be B. This is the basis of our cognition and thought: the principle of identity.
According to the dialectics of the Diamond Sutra, only when we recognize that A is not A can we recognize the true face of A. The Diamond Sutra says, “A bodhisattva is not a bodhisattva and that is why they are really a bodhisattva. Living beings are not living beings and that is why we call them living beings. The self is not a self and that is why we call it a self.” We look deeply to see that the idea of self—of an unchanging entity—is not possible; it is simply an illusion. At that time we can see what it is; apart from that, there is only illusion.
Looking into a person we see they are made of non-human elements like earth, minerals, food, and other animal species. In the process of human evolution, these other species have played a role. When you look into a human being and see they are made of non-human elements, you know the human being is not an independent reality apart from those elements. Then you are able to see the real human being. A that is not A and is truly A.
The Diamond Sutra is one of the oldest texts on deep ecology. If you want to protect human beings, you have to protect the elements that help human beings manifest, such as earth, plants, and other animal species. When you look at a human being and you see the earth, plants, and other animal species, it is like looking at A and seeing that it is not A. Only then do you see the true human being; only then is A truly A. That is the insight of interbeing—seeing the true face of A.
The dialectics of Nāgārjuna are like the teaching of the Diamond Sutra. In the beginning we think that there is an actor who is separate from the action, but when we look carefully we see that it is not like this. Actor and action are not the same—nor are they two different things. This is the teaching of not the same, not different.
This verse is about the non-dual nature of what burns (i.e. the fire) and what is burned (i.e. the log). In our head we believe that the burning (fire) is one thing and what is burned (the wood) is something else. The nondual nature is crucial! Most of us believe that there is a soul that is separate from our body. When we die, that soul goes up to heaven or down to hell—as if the soul is something that can survive independently from the body (a disembodied soul).
The first lines of this verse assume that if the fire is the fuel, then the actor and the action are the same thing. We no longer need to distinguish between the subject and the object of the burning: the one who burns and the one who is burned are one. Yet this is not correct. The last two lines assume that if the fire is something other than the fuel, then fire will always be burning and will not need fuel. If we have a soul apart from our body, the soul will continue to live forever and will not need the body to survive. When we say there is no soul apart from the body, people might think we maintain that there is no soul.
2. [If fire were other than fuel]
the fire would just keep burning.
If fire did not need fuel,
it would not need someone to set it alight,
and lighting the fire would serve no purpose.
如是常應燃
不因可燃生
則無燃火功
亦名無作火
If without fuel, there would be fire, fire would always be burning. If without the body, a soul could survive, why would the soul need a body?
It would not need someone to set it alight.
To say that burning does not need fuel to set it alight is unreasonable. A soul that can survive without a body is unreasonable, although it is something most of us believe.
And lighting the fire would serve no purpose.
The purpose is the burning. In this case, you would not need to burn something because the fire has a self-nature. It is there in and of itself and does not need the action of burning. When we light the stove in the Upper Hamlet, a monk is needed to strike a match. If the fire were there in and of itself, it would not need anyone to light a match. This is what is meant by lighting the fire would serve no purpose.
The first verse already destroyed the ideas of same and different. According to the dialectics of Nāgārjuna, to say that the fire and the fuel are the same or to say that they are different is absurd. The second verse destroys the idea that the fire does not need the fuel—that it could endure by itself.
3. If the fire did not need fuel
then it would not arise from conditions.
If the fire were permanently burning,
there would be no need for anyone to light it.
燃不待可燃
則不從緣生
火若常燃者
人功則應空
If you say that the fire does not need the fuel in order to be there, the fire could be there all on its own and would not need conditions in order to arise. If fire were always burning, there would be no action of a person to set it alight.
This verse continues to destroy the idea that the fire is different from the fuel. It also teaches the idea of waiting for each other, that is, that the fire waits for the fuel and the fuel waits for the fire.
We could say that the unlit candle is a fuel that is waiting for the fire to come. Thus the fuel is there in and of itself and does not need the fire in order to be called “fuel.” Looking in this way, it seems as if the fuel were there separately, on its own, and as if the fire were there separately on its own as well. This is a naïve way of thinking. Is the table fuel or not? If fire were to come, the table would burn. So should we call the table fuel? Is there anything on earth which is not fuel? Earth, rocks, and metal can burn. When a volcano erupts, the resulting fire can burn houses, earth, and stone. Looking at things in this way, there is nothing that is not fuel. Yet, only when it is alight can we see it as fuel. The unlit candle is like the table or a rock—we cannot call it fuel. The word fuel is only meaningful when it is burning; before that, it is not really fuel. When you are an aspirant you are not yet a novice, so we cannot call you “novice.” The fire of the Ten Novice Precepts has to come along and burn for you to be called a novice. The unlit candle cannot be called fuel because it is not yet burning.
When your mother became pregnant, people thought that first of all, in her womb, there was a body, and that a soul then came and entered this body, after which there was a body with a soul. This is the dualistic point of view: fetus is one thing and soul is another. With this dualistic point of view, we have the impression that fire is an independent reality that comes to the fuel. However, based on what we learned above, we understand now clearly that before it is burned something cannot be called fuel. Is fire a reality separate from fuel? Just light a match and you will see. From a state where there is neither fire nor fuel, suddenly fire and fuel appear at the same time. As long as there is fire there will be fuel. The fuel is not waiting for the fire to come, nor is the fire looking for fuel. This is the insight of no coming and no going, of not coming from anywhere and not going anywhere.
The heat that is released by striking the match warms up the wax, which produces a kind of vapor. Before that there was no burning. The fuel has to heat up, become vapor, and then it becomes the condition that helps the fire arise. When a candle burns, it is the vapor that burns and not the wax itself. If you had a tube to siphon the vapor away from the candle, you could light a match and set light to this vapor. When the candle is burning it creates a hot air current, which draws in cold air from below. Thanks to this hot air current, the flame is long and beautiful.
If there were no oxygen around, then the candle could not burn. The fuel is one condition, and the oxygen is another. If we place a glass jar upside down over the candle, the flame will go out because it will no longer have enough oxygen. There are other conditions that contribute to the manifestation of the fire, and not just the fuel; there is the person who lights the match, the oxygen, etc. When the flame manifests it helps what we think of as fuel to become real fuel.
When you blow the candle out you see the smoke rise. That is a vapor that can burn. While the candle is burning, it produces carbonic acid and water without this smoke. The same is true of human beings. When the weather outside is frigid and five or ten people are sitting in a room with all the windows closed, after a while you will see water vapor. The vapor comes from people’s breath. We are not different from a candle; the cells of our body are burning, and if we want them to burn properly we need to breathe in oxygen. The life of a person is a process of burning. If we compare ourselves to a candle, we see that we are not so different: the flame is the soul of the candle, while the wax is its body.
