Giving: The Door into the Way

8.1 Giving: The Door into the Way

Mention the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, and what rises first in many minds is Indra's net—the jewelled net of the king of the gods, strung all over with jewels, every jewel mirroring all the other jewels; within one jewel, the ten thousand jewels are held; and within each of the ten thousand, this one jewel is held in turn. Layer upon layer, mirroring and containing one another, without end. It is the most famous cosmic vision in the Avataṃsaka, beautiful enough to stop your breath.

But to enter this layered, endless dharma-realm—what is the door?

The Avataṃsaka's own answer is unexpectedly plain.

The First Step into the Way Is "Begrudging Nothing"

A bodhisattva's practice has ten grounds—from the first ground, stage by stage, up to the tenth, and at last to Buddhahood. The first of these is called the Ground of Joy. What counts as a bodhisattva's stepping onto this first ground—as truly having entered the Way?

The Ten Grounds chapter of the Avataṃsaka states the conditions for entering this Ground of Joy very clearly. It says that for a bodhisattva entering this ground, the first thing is having great compassion as forerunner—taking a heart of great compassion for all beings as the root of everything. And when this great compassion lands in practice, what is it? The sūtra goes on:

"When the bodhisattva…abides in the first ground with a mind of profound gravity, he begrudges nothing among all things…He cultivates the great relinquishment: whatever he possesses, he is able to give."

"He begrudges nothing among all things"—toward everything, no more begrudging; everything can be given out. The sūtra lists a long inventory: treasures, storehouses, gold and silver, fields and houses, down to his own head and eyes, hands and feet, bone and marrow—"every part of the body he holds without begrudging."

Notice the order here: great compassion comes first (the heart that thinks of beings), and once that compassion deepens, the begrudging-nothing arrives of itself; the great relinquishment opens of itself. And this great relinquishment is not a lesson taken up after entering the Way—it is itself the mark of having entered. Not "first enter the Way, then learn to give," but "to be able to let go like this, begrudging nothing, is itself to have entered."

So you see—the door into the whole bodhisattva path is not metaphysical musing on Indra's net, not first seeing through some profound doctrine. The door is giving: grounded in great compassion, stepping in with one stride through the vast giving that begrudges nothing at all.

Giving Is the Door; Prajñā Is the Seat

Of course, this begrudging-nothing is not a rash, muddled scattering. When the Ten Grounds chapter speaks of entry, right beside "great compassion as forerunner" stand two more things, given equal weight: augmented by wisdom and skillful in means.

Great compassion is the motive (arising for the sake of beings); wisdom is the seeing-through (seeing the three wheels—giver, receiver, gift—all empty); skillful means is the how (knowing what will actually serve). All three run at once; not one can be spared. With a chest full of great compassion and no prajñā underneath, that great relinquishment slides easily back onto the old road of "I am giving greatly; how remarkable I am." With prajñā, the giving loosens clean.

This gathers everything the road has covered so far right up to the doorway of the Way: the "not abiding in marks" and "the three wheels empty" of Part Five become, here, one of the inner conditions of entry. Giving is the door, and prajñā is the seat you must first be settled in as you step across.

"In Order to Seek the Vast Wisdom of the Buddhas"

One more passage deserves a close look. The sūtra asks: when the bodhisattva lets go on this scale, begrudging nothing among all things—what is it for?

"All this he holds without begrudging, in order to seek the vast wisdom of the Buddhas."

—it is for the sake of seeking the vast wisdom of the Buddhas.

This line lifts the direction of giving higher again. Earlier parts have said: giving is not a trade for merit. Here it goes a step further: even "to save and deliver beings" is not yet the final aim of this greatest of givings (though of course it holds that layer within it)—its final aim is the vast wisdom of the Buddhas, awakening itself. Giving loosens "mine," loosens all the way down, and the far end of that loosening opens onto the wisdom of Buddhahood.

So the joy of the Ground of Joy is not the joy of "I gave something—how good I feel." It is the joy of a person who has at last loosened the hand that clenched "mine" to the point of begrudging nothing, and so has stepped onto the great road that leads to awakening—the settled joy that wells up from the bottom of the heart at that moment.

Walking On

The Ground of Joy is the door into the Way. Giving is the key to that door.

But once through the door, how wide, how vast can this road run? A bodhisattva newly entered on the first ground still gives only what is his own. Yet in the Avataṃsaka there is a bodhisattva who stretched the act of offering to an unimaginable degree—stretched it through all space and across the whole dharma-realm, stretched it to thought after thought unbroken, without end forever.

In the next chapter, we look at Samantabhadra's vast cultivation of offerings.