3. The Layer of No Finite Space
“Again and further, Ananda, a practitioner, having removed attention of the mind from perception of ‘forest’, and having removed attention of the mind from perception of ‘earth’, places attention on the focal point dependent upon perceiving ‘the layer of no finite space’. One's perception is only of ‘the layer of no finite space’, and in it they become clear and calm, become stilled and established, and are fully drawn into and settled upon it.
“One thus understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘forest’, and he also understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘earth’. There is now only a more subtle tether, because there is now the focal point dependent upon one's perception of ‘the layer of no finite space’.
“One understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘forest’, and one understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘earth’. All that remains is a provisional entity, namely the focal point resulting from now perceiving ‘the layer of no finite space’.
“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 again been an unmistakable and clear establishment of emptiness in accordance with what is true.”
Here we enter into the formless layers, which are also translated as “spheres”: more information on what the formless layers are may be found here. The first formless layer, the perspective or lens through which your perception will be focused, is that of no finite space (akasa): it could also be called the layer without finite space. The Pali is akasa-anañca-ayatana-sañña, which can be translated as something like “perception via the layer not measured or limited by space”.
It is sometimes rendered as the layer of “limitless space” or of “infinite space”, as if space were an actual quality or property that stretched on forever. Since these renderings are rather misleading, I believe it is better to say that it is the “layer of no (such thing as) finite space”, to emphasize that there’s really no such thing as “space” unless we mentally create it. Also, from a grammatical perspective, the order of terms in this rather long compound word indicates that the adjective “not limited “ (anañca) applies to “layer” (ayatana) rather than “space” (akasa).
Here, “space” is the three-dimensional aspect of existence where things are apparently located, be they trees, fingers or thoughts. What we learn in this layer is that space is something that we create and overlay onto experience, rather than perceiving something called “space” that already is there. Normally, we tend to see things as discrete objects of consciousness, and then assemble a three-dimensional picture in our minds as to where each and every thing is. By doing so, we allot a limited, finite amount of space to each thing, such as our body, the room we are in, other people, and so on. In reality, though, we do not experience fixed or finite space (nor flexible or infinite space, for that matter): it only appears that way based on our mental projections.
To gain a firsthand view of what “space” really is(n’t), we can look directly to see if we can find it. There are various traditional ways to make the transition to the layer of no finite space. As contained in the Visuddhimagga, a canonical text, saying “no finite space”, or perhaps just “space”, and allowing your awareness to try to affix that label onto whatever it supposedly points to, may suffice. If not immediately effective, a sense of attacking the formless layer may work, in that we just keep up with the intoning of the word or phrase until successful.
Another approach borrows from the Mahamudra tradition, where we adopt a questioning approach, asking questions like “Where is my mind? Where is the limit or boundary of my mind? What is the shape of my mind?” and so forth. No boundary, shape or anything else is found, and by maintaining this sense of there being no actual limit to the mind, it can become a layer or perspective in which the artificiality of “space” can be both seen and released.
You can also try considering two objects, one near and one farther away. For example, you could use your sternum and the floor underneath you, the person across from you and the tree outside, etc. Now, closing your eyes, try to find the thing called “distance” to those objects, and also the “difference in distance” between them. What is quickly realized is that “distance” is a mental construct, something we overlay on experience to try to give it structure, but which doesn't inherently exist.
Another method is to imaginatively send “rays” of awareness out in all directions, imagining how far one could conceive space as extending. For example, is it to the house across the street, the next town, or the next solar system? Is experience actually limited by “space”? One can quickly realize that what we term “space” is an arbitrary phenomenon. We can also imagine space to an infinite extent in all directions, yet all of that imagination occurs as a mental “event”, taking care to not conclude that there is something called “space” that is itself infinite in extent.
Eventually, the mind will expand out, or perhaps better won’t be constrained and only seems like it expands outward. When this happens, it can be something of a jolt or perhaps a bit disorienting. It can also entail some of the lights and physical sensations often associated with the jhanas of form, but try to just watch it happen and let go of trying to affect it or experience it in a certain way. It usually appears as what I would describe as a canvas with no discernible limits, perhaps without a center point (i.e., “you”). By no longer dividing space into discrete, finite portions, individual things such as our knees and hands start to lose their distinctiveness and boundaries.
This of course means that what we normally think of our physical “selves” temporarily changes as well. The sensations that we normally associate with “body” are now much less integrated, if at all. It therefore becomes clear that the mind continually compiles these sensations into a “body” in order to get through daily life. Though we are only in the first formless layer, this highlights the potential insight aspect of the practice, in that we are already starting to break down the fixed notions we have regarding what and where things are that we identify with. However, as was my experience, having this temporary experience didn’t actually unseat my delusions about “space”, and it took something more direct (i.e., fetter inquiry) to unseat them once and for all.
Even though the illusion of space may reassert itself after this meditation, the seed has been planted by which space and the separation of subject and object may eventually be seen through. For me, “space” was never the same once I had seen, even temporarily, that it is a mental construct. In retrospect, I realized that, as is the focus at the end of the Shorter Discourse, I had conditioned myself to experience “space”, and also conditioned myself to name this layer “no finite space” because of what was now absent.
For those who follow the unfettering approach, the mental construction of “space” ceases completely once past the 7th fetter, by which this first formless layer is no longer accessible, in that there is no longer what appears to be finite, three-dimensional space that can be temporarily set aside. At that point, there can instead be a comparatively flat spatial experience in everyday life, whereas here if you open your eyes you will likely “exit” this formless layer rather quickly.
In this stage of the meditation, seeing everything from the perspective of there being no finite space, you no longer have anywhere to put things. Dimension and spatial position are things the mind manufactures on a constant basis, creating a perspective of “I'm here, and everything else is there, there and there”. You do still have a tether to experience because you are nevertheless placing your focus on the fact that there is currently no such thing as finite space: that is your current anchor. However, it is also the next thing to leave behind.
“One thus understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘forest’, and he also understands there is no longer the three-fold tether due to one's perceiving ‘earth’. There is now only a more subtle tether, because there is now the focal point dependent upon one's perception of ‘the layer of no finite space’.
“One understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘forest’, and one understands that one's field of perception is now empty of any perception of ‘earth’. All that remains is a provisional entity, namely the focal point resulting from now perceiving ‘the layer of no finite space’.
“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 again been an unmistakable and clear establishment of emptiness in accordance with what is true.”
Here we enter into the formless layers, which are also translated as “spheres”: more information on what the formless layers are may be found here. The first formless layer, the perspective or lens through which your perception will be focused, is that of no finite space (akasa): it could also be called the layer without finite space. The Pali is akasa-anañca-ayatana-sañña, which can be translated as something like “perception via the layer not measured or limited by space”.
It is sometimes rendered as the layer of “limitless space” or of “infinite space”, as if space were an actual quality or property that stretched on forever. Since these renderings are rather misleading, I believe it is better to say that it is the “layer of no (such thing as) finite space”, to emphasize that there’s really no such thing as “space” unless we mentally create it. Also, from a grammatical perspective, the order of terms in this rather long compound word indicates that the adjective “not limited “ (anañca) applies to “layer” (ayatana) rather than “space” (akasa).
Here, “space” is the three-dimensional aspect of existence where things are apparently located, be they trees, fingers or thoughts. What we learn in this layer is that space is something that we create and overlay onto experience, rather than perceiving something called “space” that already is there. Normally, we tend to see things as discrete objects of consciousness, and then assemble a three-dimensional picture in our minds as to where each and every thing is. By doing so, we allot a limited, finite amount of space to each thing, such as our body, the room we are in, other people, and so on. In reality, though, we do not experience fixed or finite space (nor flexible or infinite space, for that matter): it only appears that way based on our mental projections.
To gain a firsthand view of what “space” really is(n’t), we can look directly to see if we can find it. There are various traditional ways to make the transition to the layer of no finite space. As contained in the Visuddhimagga, a canonical text, saying “no finite space”, or perhaps just “space”, and allowing your awareness to try to affix that label onto whatever it supposedly points to, may suffice. If not immediately effective, a sense of attacking the formless layer may work, in that we just keep up with the intoning of the word or phrase until successful.
Another approach borrows from the Mahamudra tradition, where we adopt a questioning approach, asking questions like “Where is my mind? Where is the limit or boundary of my mind? What is the shape of my mind?” and so forth. No boundary, shape or anything else is found, and by maintaining this sense of there being no actual limit to the mind, it can become a layer or perspective in which the artificiality of “space” can be both seen and released.
You can also try considering two objects, one near and one farther away. For example, you could use your sternum and the floor underneath you, the person across from you and the tree outside, etc. Now, closing your eyes, try to find the thing called “distance” to those objects, and also the “difference in distance” between them. What is quickly realized is that “distance” is a mental construct, something we overlay on experience to try to give it structure, but which doesn't inherently exist.
Another method is to imaginatively send “rays” of awareness out in all directions, imagining how far one could conceive space as extending. For example, is it to the house across the street, the next town, or the next solar system? Is experience actually limited by “space”? One can quickly realize that what we term “space” is an arbitrary phenomenon. We can also imagine space to an infinite extent in all directions, yet all of that imagination occurs as a mental “event”, taking care to not conclude that there is something called “space” that is itself infinite in extent.
Eventually, the mind will expand out, or perhaps better won’t be constrained and only seems like it expands outward. When this happens, it can be something of a jolt or perhaps a bit disorienting. It can also entail some of the lights and physical sensations often associated with the jhanas of form, but try to just watch it happen and let go of trying to affect it or experience it in a certain way. It usually appears as what I would describe as a canvas with no discernible limits, perhaps without a center point (i.e., “you”). By no longer dividing space into discrete, finite portions, individual things such as our knees and hands start to lose their distinctiveness and boundaries.
This of course means that what we normally think of our physical “selves” temporarily changes as well. The sensations that we normally associate with “body” are now much less integrated, if at all. It therefore becomes clear that the mind continually compiles these sensations into a “body” in order to get through daily life. Though we are only in the first formless layer, this highlights the potential insight aspect of the practice, in that we are already starting to break down the fixed notions we have regarding what and where things are that we identify with. However, as was my experience, having this temporary experience didn’t actually unseat my delusions about “space”, and it took something more direct (i.e., fetter inquiry) to unseat them once and for all.
Even though the illusion of space may reassert itself after this meditation, the seed has been planted by which space and the separation of subject and object may eventually be seen through. For me, “space” was never the same once I had seen, even temporarily, that it is a mental construct. In retrospect, I realized that, as is the focus at the end of the Shorter Discourse, I had conditioned myself to experience “space”, and also conditioned myself to name this layer “no finite space” because of what was now absent.
For those who follow the unfettering approach, the mental construction of “space” ceases completely once past the 7th fetter, by which this first formless layer is no longer accessible, in that there is no longer what appears to be finite, three-dimensional space that can be temporarily set aside. At that point, there can instead be a comparatively flat spatial experience in everyday life, whereas here if you open your eyes you will likely “exit” this formless layer rather quickly.
In this stage of the meditation, seeing everything from the perspective of there being no finite space, you no longer have anywhere to put things. Dimension and spatial position are things the mind manufactures on a constant basis, creating a perspective of “I'm here, and everything else is there, there and there”. You do still have a tether to experience because you are nevertheless placing your focus on the fact that there is currently no such thing as finite space: that is your current anchor. However, it is also the next thing to leave behind.