The Shorter Discourse on Emptiness
Culasuññata Sutta, Majjhimanikaya 121
The Pāli language text utilized for the translation is that of Trenckner et al., as published by the Pali Text Society.
Thus have I heard. At one time the Blessed One was dwelling at Savatthi in the Eastern Park, the terraced grounds belonging to Migara's mother. One evening, the venerable Ananda, having risen from his secluded meditation spot, went to the Blessed One and, upon arriving, bowed down and sat to one side.
He then said to the Blessed One: “Once the Blessed One was residing in the city of Nagaraka, among the Sakyans. We were face to face, and I heard you say 'I often abide in the empty abiding.' Did I correctly hear that, correctly grasp it, give correct attention to it, and correctly remember it?
The Buddha replied “Yes, Ananda, you correctly heard it, correctly grasped it, correctly gave attention to it, and correctly remembered it. Even now, I often abide in the empty abiding.”
Culasuññata Sutta, Majjhimanikaya 121
The Pāli language text utilized for the translation is that of Trenckner et al., as published by the Pali Text Society.
Thus have I heard. At one time the Blessed One was dwelling at Savatthi in the Eastern Park, the terraced grounds belonging to Migara's mother. One evening, the venerable Ananda, having risen from his secluded meditation spot, went to the Blessed One and, upon arriving, bowed down and sat to one side.
He then said to the Blessed One: “Once the Blessed One was residing in the city of Nagaraka, among the Sakyans. We were face to face, and I heard you say 'I often abide in the empty abiding.' Did I correctly hear that, correctly grasp it, give correct attention to it, and correctly remember it?
The Buddha replied “Yes, Ananda, you correctly heard it, correctly grasped it, correctly gave attention to it, and correctly remembered it. Even now, I often abide in the empty abiding.”
1. The Forest
1.a. “Ananda, these terraced grounds of Migara's mother are empty of the village, of its money and various animals, and are further empty of the village's people. There is only this one thing: the focal point dependent upon perceiving ‘forest’. Just so, Ananda, a practitioner, having removed attention of the mind from the perception of ‘village’, and having removed attention of the mind from the perception of ‘people’, may place their attention on but one thing, a perception of ‘forest’. One's perception is only of ‘forest’, and in it they become clear and calm, become stilled and established, and are fully drawn into and settled upon it.”
The discourse was originally set in the forest, away from the local village, whereas we might typically meditate in a room, a meditation hall, or other modern facility. Thus, rather than reference the conditions that existed 2,500 years ago, I will assume you are meditating either alone or with others in some sort of structure. I have also slightly condensed this first portion to fit the recurring three-step pattern found in subsequent sections of the discourse, so it reads somewhat differently than other more literal translations.
In this step, we release our attention from where it has been and put all that focus on one specific thing. Assuming we are in a suitable meditation setting, whether with or without others, we are no longer out in the world of cities and people. We need to get to the point where we have taken our mind off of that world, the literal translation of the Pali amanasikaritva being “having unmade the mind thus”.
Sitting on your chair or cushion, perhaps with your eyes open, you could ask yourself “Where is the outside world? Where is that unfinished project at work? Where is that argument with my family member?” In truth, that outside world is, at least for the moment, not here. You can give yourself permission to leave it out there, knowing that it will be there when next summoned. It's just you (and maybe others) in a quiet meditation location.
If we are to leave the outside world to its own devices, what then should we focus on? We are instructed to “make our mind” (manasikaritva), or draw the focus, to what is here. For the Buddha and Ananda it was the forest, whereas for us it is the meditation hall or room, the fellow meditators that might be around us, our cushion or chair, and anything else that comprises “here”. Even with our eyes shut, we can sense where we are and what is around us, to verify that we are indeed here.
By turning our attention to, and making our mind solely focused on, just the physical aspects of where we are, we are creating a temporary ekatta. This term is sometimes translated as non-voidness or singleness, which may imply that something else exists in a certain way, whereas I have chosen “focal point” to emphasize our own role. We are placing all of our attention (or at least as much as we can) on that one perceived thing in order to preclude everything else from intruding. It is the sole point of focus for the mind, ideally taking up the entire field of perception. We don’t need to explore whether what we perceive is “real” or an interpretation, or whether it is substantial or transient; it is simply what we are currently choosing to devote our entire attention to at this time, thus leading to a nominal singleness or focal point. We also allow this focal point to expand out to be all that is perceived (pathavi-saññaya).
The Buddha gets quite specific about how settled on this focal point we should be. Ñanamoli and Bodhi translate that the mind “enters into and acquires confidence, steadiness, and decision” in the object of focus. Further illustration is provided by definitions of the four Pali words, wherein the mind jumps into, rejoices in, falls into, and pursues (pakkhandati) the object of focus, becomes clear and calm (pasidati), stands still and becomes established (santitthati) and is fully drawn into and settles in that focus (adhimuccati).
1.b. “One thus understands: 'there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘village’, and he also understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘people’. There is now only a more subtle tether, because there is now the focal point dependent upon one's perception of ‘forest’.”
In this second step we notice that our field of perception no longer is beset by any cares or distraction from the world outside. Such care or distraction is termed daratha in Pali. There are various ways to translate this word, with the dictionaries offering that it is an “anxiety, care, distress”, or “a cave” in the sense that one is in a confining place. Another canonical source equates having a daratha with afflicted or being beset by attention (to something). It might feel like a disturbance, a tether, a fixation, an encumbrance, being bound up, and/or a challenge: it’s whatever is managing to keep your attention right now. I suggest translating it as “tether”: it’s whatever we are involved with or even fixated on in a perceptual situation, by which we are tied to or otherwise involved in sensory experience. That tether or fixation might also be distracting and even disturbing, especially prior to awakening, but the discourse is concerned with the fact that we involve ourselves with it at all.
Having thus become settled in our current object of focus, previous tethers are simply not there. As such, we have experiential certainty regarding their absence: the Pāli verb is pajanati, “to know, understand, understand, discern”. The discourse points out that the components of this knowledge are threefold (tedha), in that perception (sañña) requires three things: a sense organ, a sense object, and the associated consciousness (viññana). So, this threefold perceptual process no longer occurs regarding grosser tethers. You could generate from memory the “outside world”, but you consciously don't. By not recognizing or imagining an object, you are no longer distracted by it.
If the previous tethers are gone, what remains? Well, it is the current tether associated with “here”, which currently occupies our field of perception. However, it is a more subtle tether (daratha-matta), matta being a “measure, quantity, moderation.” In this case, the distraction associated with the outside world has been replaced with that of the relatively peaceful environment of wherever it is that we are meditating.
The discourse reminds us that this more subtle tether associated with “forest” (or in our case “room”, “hall”, etc.) does not imply there is an actual forest (or room or hall) around us, but only a provisionally real one, to the extent that it is the current focus of our attention. The Pāli cevayam (“and it is as if”) signifies that there is only an apparent unitary, non-void object which provides us with a tether to it (i.e., so that we are involved with). Also, paticca ekatta, “the focal point dependent upon”, reminds us that it is only because we are thus focusing on our surroundings, strictly for purposes of meditating, that we have this particular focal point and associated tether in the first place.
1.c. “One understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘village’, and one understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘people’. All that remains is a provisional entity, namely the focal point resulting from now perceiving ‘forest’. One now sees that whatever entity is not in one's field of perception, that field is therefore empty of that entity. One also sees that whatever entity remains in one's field of perception, that entity does exist in one's field of perception. This has been an unmistakable and clear establishment of emptiness in accordance with what is true.”
Finally, we take a broader look at our field of perception, our saññagata, which literally means “where our perception has gone to or arrived at”. We know and discern that, in this case, the outside world is simply not in our field of perception. It's not just that the outside world is empty (in the sense of not having anything substantial to it), but our perception is empty of the notion of it as well. Here we see that it is only the latter type of emptiness which we can personally verify within our own experience, as opposed to inferring that external entities are empty, an important distinction. Such direct, experiential knowledge is avipallatthā (not deranged, corrupt, or perverted, thus free of mistakes), parisuddhā (clean, clear, pure, perfect), and represents a suññata-avakkanti, an entry into, coming down to and establishment in emptiness.
What remains is the current focal point, the provisionally real (cevidam – “it is as if”) thing we are presently involved with and focusing on. The verb used for the current focal point is samanupassati, which means “to see or regard”, which is more passive than to understand. Thus, we just hold it there and not get too invested in it being real, since in the next step it will disappear(!).
Finally, what we are currently experiencing is described as “in accordance with what is true” (yathabhucca). This term is sometimes translated as “the way things really are”, which might make sense if one assumes that the process of awakening involves obtaining knowledge or wisdom concerning “reality” or insight into how the world and the things in it work. While this may be one’s aspiration going into the process of awakening, it is not the end “result”. Instead, one comes to simply experience what is happening without any of the perceptual filters or distortions that one once had, especially the notion that there are “things” that could “be” any way at all.
1.a. “Ananda, these terraced grounds of Migara's mother are empty of the village, of its money and various animals, and are further empty of the village's people. There is only this one thing: the focal point dependent upon perceiving ‘forest’. Just so, Ananda, a practitioner, having removed attention of the mind from the perception of ‘village’, and having removed attention of the mind from the perception of ‘people’, may place their attention on but one thing, a perception of ‘forest’. One's perception is only of ‘forest’, and in it they become clear and calm, become stilled and established, and are fully drawn into and settled upon it.”
The discourse was originally set in the forest, away from the local village, whereas we might typically meditate in a room, a meditation hall, or other modern facility. Thus, rather than reference the conditions that existed 2,500 years ago, I will assume you are meditating either alone or with others in some sort of structure. I have also slightly condensed this first portion to fit the recurring three-step pattern found in subsequent sections of the discourse, so it reads somewhat differently than other more literal translations.
In this step, we release our attention from where it has been and put all that focus on one specific thing. Assuming we are in a suitable meditation setting, whether with or without others, we are no longer out in the world of cities and people. We need to get to the point where we have taken our mind off of that world, the literal translation of the Pali amanasikaritva being “having unmade the mind thus”.
Sitting on your chair or cushion, perhaps with your eyes open, you could ask yourself “Where is the outside world? Where is that unfinished project at work? Where is that argument with my family member?” In truth, that outside world is, at least for the moment, not here. You can give yourself permission to leave it out there, knowing that it will be there when next summoned. It's just you (and maybe others) in a quiet meditation location.
If we are to leave the outside world to its own devices, what then should we focus on? We are instructed to “make our mind” (manasikaritva), or draw the focus, to what is here. For the Buddha and Ananda it was the forest, whereas for us it is the meditation hall or room, the fellow meditators that might be around us, our cushion or chair, and anything else that comprises “here”. Even with our eyes shut, we can sense where we are and what is around us, to verify that we are indeed here.
By turning our attention to, and making our mind solely focused on, just the physical aspects of where we are, we are creating a temporary ekatta. This term is sometimes translated as non-voidness or singleness, which may imply that something else exists in a certain way, whereas I have chosen “focal point” to emphasize our own role. We are placing all of our attention (or at least as much as we can) on that one perceived thing in order to preclude everything else from intruding. It is the sole point of focus for the mind, ideally taking up the entire field of perception. We don’t need to explore whether what we perceive is “real” or an interpretation, or whether it is substantial or transient; it is simply what we are currently choosing to devote our entire attention to at this time, thus leading to a nominal singleness or focal point. We also allow this focal point to expand out to be all that is perceived (pathavi-saññaya).
The Buddha gets quite specific about how settled on this focal point we should be. Ñanamoli and Bodhi translate that the mind “enters into and acquires confidence, steadiness, and decision” in the object of focus. Further illustration is provided by definitions of the four Pali words, wherein the mind jumps into, rejoices in, falls into, and pursues (pakkhandati) the object of focus, becomes clear and calm (pasidati), stands still and becomes established (santitthati) and is fully drawn into and settles in that focus (adhimuccati).
1.b. “One thus understands: 'there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘village’, and he also understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘people’. There is now only a more subtle tether, because there is now the focal point dependent upon one's perception of ‘forest’.”
In this second step we notice that our field of perception no longer is beset by any cares or distraction from the world outside. Such care or distraction is termed daratha in Pali. There are various ways to translate this word, with the dictionaries offering that it is an “anxiety, care, distress”, or “a cave” in the sense that one is in a confining place. Another canonical source equates having a daratha with afflicted or being beset by attention (to something). It might feel like a disturbance, a tether, a fixation, an encumbrance, being bound up, and/or a challenge: it’s whatever is managing to keep your attention right now. I suggest translating it as “tether”: it’s whatever we are involved with or even fixated on in a perceptual situation, by which we are tied to or otherwise involved in sensory experience. That tether or fixation might also be distracting and even disturbing, especially prior to awakening, but the discourse is concerned with the fact that we involve ourselves with it at all.
Having thus become settled in our current object of focus, previous tethers are simply not there. As such, we have experiential certainty regarding their absence: the Pāli verb is pajanati, “to know, understand, understand, discern”. The discourse points out that the components of this knowledge are threefold (tedha), in that perception (sañña) requires three things: a sense organ, a sense object, and the associated consciousness (viññana). So, this threefold perceptual process no longer occurs regarding grosser tethers. You could generate from memory the “outside world”, but you consciously don't. By not recognizing or imagining an object, you are no longer distracted by it.
If the previous tethers are gone, what remains? Well, it is the current tether associated with “here”, which currently occupies our field of perception. However, it is a more subtle tether (daratha-matta), matta being a “measure, quantity, moderation.” In this case, the distraction associated with the outside world has been replaced with that of the relatively peaceful environment of wherever it is that we are meditating.
The discourse reminds us that this more subtle tether associated with “forest” (or in our case “room”, “hall”, etc.) does not imply there is an actual forest (or room or hall) around us, but only a provisionally real one, to the extent that it is the current focus of our attention. The Pāli cevayam (“and it is as if”) signifies that there is only an apparent unitary, non-void object which provides us with a tether to it (i.e., so that we are involved with). Also, paticca ekatta, “the focal point dependent upon”, reminds us that it is only because we are thus focusing on our surroundings, strictly for purposes of meditating, that we have this particular focal point and associated tether in the first place.
1.c. “One understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘village’, and one understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘people’. All that remains is a provisional entity, namely the focal point resulting from now perceiving ‘forest’. One now sees that whatever entity is not in one's field of perception, that field is therefore empty of that entity. One also sees that whatever entity remains in one's field of perception, that entity does exist in one's field of perception. This has been an unmistakable and clear establishment of emptiness in accordance with what is true.”
Finally, we take a broader look at our field of perception, our saññagata, which literally means “where our perception has gone to or arrived at”. We know and discern that, in this case, the outside world is simply not in our field of perception. It's not just that the outside world is empty (in the sense of not having anything substantial to it), but our perception is empty of the notion of it as well. Here we see that it is only the latter type of emptiness which we can personally verify within our own experience, as opposed to inferring that external entities are empty, an important distinction. Such direct, experiential knowledge is avipallatthā (not deranged, corrupt, or perverted, thus free of mistakes), parisuddhā (clean, clear, pure, perfect), and represents a suññata-avakkanti, an entry into, coming down to and establishment in emptiness.
What remains is the current focal point, the provisionally real (cevidam – “it is as if”) thing we are presently involved with and focusing on. The verb used for the current focal point is samanupassati, which means “to see or regard”, which is more passive than to understand. Thus, we just hold it there and not get too invested in it being real, since in the next step it will disappear(!).
Finally, what we are currently experiencing is described as “in accordance with what is true” (yathabhucca). This term is sometimes translated as “the way things really are”, which might make sense if one assumes that the process of awakening involves obtaining knowledge or wisdom concerning “reality” or insight into how the world and the things in it work. While this may be one’s aspiration going into the process of awakening, it is not the end “result”. Instead, one comes to simply experience what is happening without any of the perceptual filters or distortions that one once had, especially the notion that there are “things” that could “be” any way at all.