One Unbroken Breath

8.1 One Unbroken Breath

The Heart Sūtra ends like this:

"The bodhisattva-being, relying on the prajñā-pāramitā, has a mind without hindrance; having no hindrance, there is no fear; leaving far behind all inverted, dreamlike thought, he reaches ultimate nirvāṇa. The buddhas of the three periods, relying on the prajñā-pāramitā, attain anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi."

Those who recite it daily mostly glide over this in one breath. This once, slow down, and see what is hidden here: two subjects, two acts. The subject of the first sentence is the bodhisattva-being—the bodhisattva; his act is "reaching ultimate nirvāṇa." In the second sentence the subject changes—to the buddhas of the three periods; and the act changes too—to "attaining anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi": unsurpassed, perfect awakening.

Between the two sentences, the text allows not even a pause. The bodhisattva's ultimate nirvāṇa and the buddhas' attaining of bodhi are written as two steps, one after the other, inside a single breath.

And so a question must be asked: are these two steps one thing said twice—or two things, joined in sequence yet distinct?

The Cessation-Fruit and the Wisdom-Fruit

Master Fazang of the Tang, commenting on the Heart Sūtra at this passage, set down a division of perfect economy:

"First, it shows the bodhisattva attaining the cessation-fruit of nirvāṇa; then, it shows the buddhas attaining the wisdom-fruit of bodhi."

Cessation-fruit; wisdom-fruit—these four words are the key to the Heart Sūtra's ending.

The bodhisattva's ultimate nirvāṇa is the cessation-fruit. "Cessation" governs the whole: the afflictions ceased, birth and death ceased, the inverted, dreamlike thought left far behind—it speaks of what is no longer there. Notice the grammar of the sentence: negative from beginning to end—no hindrance, no fear, leaving far behind, stillness. The buddhas' attaining of bodhi is the wisdom-fruit. "Attain" governs the whole: omniscience filled out, the virtues of awakening complete—it speaks of what has come fully and perfectly present. The grammar turns clean over: positive—attained, accomplished, complete, full.

One says "swept clean"; the other says "brought to fullness." A figure: the cessation-fruit is the room swept spotless; the wisdom-fruit is that clean room filled with the living. The sweeping is the precondition of the dwelling; it is not the dwelling itself. Run the two together, and the Heart Sūtra's deliberate two-step ascent is trodden flat into one.

And one more thing to see: both sentences say "relying on the prajñā-pāramitā." Not one prajñā for the bodhisattva and another for the buddhas—one and the same breath of prajñā, showing at the bodhisattva's station as the stillness of obstructions ended, and at the buddhas' as the bodhi of wisdom made full. One road, two accomplishments—and the latter brings the former to completion.

The Ocean of Wisdom Arises from the Great Vows

Then this "bringing to fullness" of the buddhas—where does it grow from? Does it simply appear of itself, once the obstructions are cut away?

The Avataṃsaka Sūtra, speaking of the Tathāgata's ocean of omniscience—that measureless, boundless sea of the buddhas' wisdom—gives its provenance:

"It arises wholly from the great vows the Tathāgata made in ages past."

Arisen from the Tathāgata's great vows of ages past.

This sentence sews "the vow" and "attaining bodhi" directly together. The Buddha-fruit is not a blank left over when the obstructions are exhausted, nor a stillness that exists without cause; that sea of wisdom is a sea—vast in its living force, inexhaustible in its moistening—because beneath it a vow is generating it and holding it up. The cessation-fruit can come about by prajñā's seeing of emptiness, the obstructions ending of themselves; but that the wisdom-fruit is full—behind that stands the vow.

The same sūtra has one more sentence, carrying the matter past the fruit of Buddhahood. The body of the Tathāgata has no fixed location, is neither real nor void—then why does it appear in the world? The text says:

"By the power of the buddhas' original vow, whenever beings are fit to be liberated, it appears."

Only by the power of the buddhas' original sworn vow—whenever beings are ready to be liberated, the Buddha appears. From the arising of the ocean of wisdom to the dwelling and appearing of the Buddha's body, first to last, it is the vow that holds it up. The Buddha-fruit is born of the vow and appears by the vow—the vow is no tool used on the way to Buddhahood and retired once Buddhahood is reached; it holds all the way to the Buddha's seat, and holds still.

What Carries the First Step into the Second

Now return to that single breath. The bodhisattva's ultimate nirvāṇa is the first step; the buddhas' attaining of bodhi is the second. What carries the first step onward into the second?

The figure from Part Three meets its final scene here. Merit is the ox, the vow the driver—then, what we watched was the ox with strength but no destination, the driver pulling nothing yet fixing the way. Now we see this cart's last stretch of road. The strength of prajñā and merit is enough to draw the cart to the place where obstructions end and stillness reigns—an ox standing still is also a kind of not-moving; but for that strength not to stop at nirvāṇa, to carry on toward things as vast as adorning a buddha-land and bringing the Buddha's seat to fullness—merit walking alone cannot accomplish it, and so vow-power is required. The driver's last motion on the reins is transference-and-vowing: aiming all merit at anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi.

But—if the driver steers the cart toward "the fruit I want," has the vow not become an order placed after all? The Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra blocked this hazard long ago. The bodhisattva, the treatise says, holds his merit in common with all beings, transferring it toward unsurpassed bodhi—and in the very act of transferring—

"he gives rise to no dual mind: who is the one transferring? toward what is it transferred?"

No thought splits off of "who is doing the transferring, and where is it transferred to." The driver holds the reins, and there is no rein-holding I; the direction is distinct, and there is no clutched "place." Part Six said transference sets down the accountant; Part Seven said the vow's three wheels are empty—here the two lines flow together. That the vow aims the fruit at bodhi is the vow; that no dual mind arises in the aiming is nothing-to-attain. So the "attaining of bodhi" thus aimed at could only ever be an attaining with nothing attained.

The treatise carries this "carrying onward" to its utmost in one more passage. Subhūti wonders: this is plainly the path of nirvāṇa—why does the bodhisattva, practicing this very path, not take up the witness of nirvāṇa? The Buddha answers:

"The bodhisattva contemplates form and all dharmas as empty. Because this bodhisattva has entered deep into meditation, his mind cannot be disturbed, and he has gained the power of keen wisdom, he does not see even this emptiness as a dharma; and because he does not see it, there is nothing realized."

The bodhisattva contemplates all dharmas as empty—and does not set up even this "emptiness" as a seeable, gainable dharma: not seeing it, there is nothing realized. Part Seven said the bodhisattva does not enter the gate of nirvāṇa because of the vow; here lies one layer deeper: seen with nothing to attain, that gate itself is no real thing standing there waiting to be pushed. It is not that he grits his teeth and declines the realization—there is no "realization" set out there to be taken. And so this path of nirvāṇa, by prajñā's own nothing-to-attain, walks straight through nirvāṇa, and on toward the Buddha-way.

Put the three together: the vow as driver gives the carrying-on its direction; no dual mind gives it its cleanness; nothing realized gives it its transparency. Three faces of the one act of transference-and-vowing. That single breath at the Heart Sūtra's end, running unbroken from "ultimate nirvāṇa" into "attain anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi"—that breath is the vow.

One Thing to See Clearly Here

The words "attaining bodhi"—one last calibration.

It is not a certificate finally received, not a state achieved by someone and owned by them ever after. The text says "attain" in one breath and "no wisdom and no attainment, because there is nothing to attain" in another—this attain is fullness, with no "one who has become full" standing inside the fullness; arrival, with no arriver tucking the terminus into his coat. Brought to completion, with no one completed.

The world's exhortations often paint Buddhahood as summiting, as graduation, as the taking of a prize. Hearing them, remember to translate: on that summit, no one stands; on that diploma, no name is signed. And exactly for this reason it deserves the word "unsurpassed"—every achievement that can be possessed still has, above it, the layer called "its possessor"; only this completion that no one collects has nothing above it at all.

Walking On

The gate of the vow has here walked its full course through the Heart Sūtra: from arousing, to non-retreat, to not abiding in nirvāṇa, to carrying ultimate nirvāṇa onward into the attaining of bodhi. It is the last of the six practice gates, and it closes on the Heart Sūtra's last sentence.

But the words "last gate" force out the last question.

Recollection, giving, repentance, discipline, concentration, vow—why these six gates? Why this order? Why does the vow close the sequence—and why does the vow land exactly on "attaining bodhi"? Six volumes, and every volume gave only signposts. Now the road is walked.

The next chapter—the bottom of the whole series, turned over.