Heart sutra and the nyams of Dzogchen
“Form is emptiness and emptiness is form”
Heart Sutra
Heart sutra is one of the shortest, yet the most profound Buddhist texts that I have ever read. It is approximately dated to the 7th century, originating in either China or India. It is written as a monologue by bodhisattva Avalokitesvara (Chenrezigs in Tibetan). The text fits on one page, my favourite translation is by Ngakpa Chogyam and can be found here. Its main formula, the “unconventional wisdom” quoted above, is the E=mc² of Buddhism. It is also a psychonautical navigation map for the nyams of Dzogchen.
Dzogchen is part of Vajrayana Buddhism originating in Tibet, to which I had the honour of being introduced by my teacher Rin’dzin Pamo. Unlike the staged Mahayana approach [1] Dzogchen is best mapped as an exploration of emptiness and form. First we turn from the familiar world of form to the experience of its emptiness. The goal is the nyam ne-pa — the state of quiet presence, where the mind is still. Having attained the experience of emptiness, we go back to form. The destination is gYo-Wa — the nyam of form, but from the base of emptiness. Having realised both, we now investigate the non-duality of emptiness and form — the nyam-nyi, where form and emptiness acquire the one taste. One can also use this map for their spiritual path at a higher level. Vajrayana distinguishes the Sutric path — form to emptiness — followed by the Tantra — back to form, followed by Dozgchen — non-duality. Each path shapes the lifestyle and behaviour of the practitioner in its own way.
So what is emptiness?
Our experience–on and off the cushion–is beautifully varied and diverse. It is the world of differences and multiplicity, formed by various phenomena: objects, sensation, emotions, sounds, thoughts, smells, concepts, intentions and colours. These phenomena seem solid and well defined — a chair, a table, a plate of food and my hunger seem to exist independently of each other and have clear boundaries. This content of experience, those isolated phenomena are form. The Heart Sutra points out that the first voyage we have to make is to the emptiness of the form. So what does it mean that form is emptiness? What kind of experience is emptiness and how do we get there? Let’s look at this question from two sides, first intellectually and then experientially (through meditation).
The goal of intellectual investigation of emptiness is to demystify it and avoid unhelpful interpretations. Let’s investigate the world of form a bit closer. Growing up in a modern society, we are taught to investigate reality through reduction. The reductionist view is that all phenomena can be reduced to essential components and all complexity can be represented as an interaction of these essences. Take Newtonian physics for example — all the processes are reduced to the interaction between point masses, which are the essences. An everyday object like a car can be broken up into its parts, which in turn can be broken down further all the way to molecules, then atoms and so on. Eventually, we hope to arrive at the essences of the world.
But where is the car in this analysis? Is it in the parts? In the atoms? Is there an essence of carness trapped somewhere in between the molecules? As we put the car apart by analysing it,we lost it. Notice how this difficulty is only theoretical, in practice we don’t have much trouble telling what is a car and what isn’t. What we find is that a car is empty of itself — it doesn’t have anessence, but can be easily identified conventionally. To exist conventionally is to be identified as a referent of a word and characterised relationally. For example, we can say a car is whatever can be driven, a chair is whatever can be sat on, a robe is whatever can be worn and so on. But what is driving, sitting or wearing? Conventional identification is somewhat frustrating, because you can never get to the end of it — there is no essence to ground the conventions. So to be empty is to lack the essence, be identifiable conventionally and characterised relationally. The proposition in Buddhism is that all phenomena are empty — a car, anger, an electron, the smell of roses and everything else.
There are profound implications to that view, but we are not going to dive too deep into them. If you want to explore it further, check out [5, 6]. Notice, that in no way emptiness means non-existence. To exist is to exist conventionally. This view does not deny reality, but redefines it in relational, interdependent terms.
Let us leave the world of physical objects for now and focus on the meditator’s experience. What does it mean practically for all phenomena to be empty? First of all, it means that phenomena can not be isolated, as isolation would imply that they have an essence and can be characterised non-relationally. You can never get to the bottom of what a sensation of breath is without some sort of context to relate it to. So what happens if you start isolating a particular phenomena, for example a physical sensation of air flowing through your right nostril? You will find that as you zoom into the sensation, it keeps constantly changing and slipping away. What is happening is that by trying to isolate it, you are changing the context and thus the sensation. Since phenomena can only be characterised relationally, the experience will keep mutating.
Finding ne-pa, the nyam of emptiness
To get to the nyam ne-pa we have to work against the tendency of our mind to reify — to essentialise phenomena, treating them as having an independent, non-relational reality of their own. This holds for both internal (emotions, thoughts) and external (vision, sound) phenomena. The practice is called shi-ne and has one simple instruction: “remain uninvolved”. The meditator lets phenomena arise and fall without trying to isolate or stabilise them, always keeping their context present. This practice also goes by the name of “shamata without an object” and “open awareness”. Good descriptions of the practice can be found in [2]. I came to the practice from the background of Jhannas and breath following [1]. Having no object to focus on is confusing in the beginning, as the mind yearns for an anchor point of sorts. What I experienced was the warping of senses — sounds warp into thoughts, which warp into physical sensations and so on. The mind is like the surface of a lake and phenomena are like stones that drop into it. The water then breaks and warps around it.
The mistake I often made was to grasp for any stillness and relaxation that would arise, but that would just create another stone that would make a splash and start the warping. The trick is not to get involved in that either. The senses have to find harmony and be present together, providing context for each other. The fruit of this practice — the nyam ne-pa — is an experience of openness, stillness, inter-relatedness, clarity, and expanse. The mind is like a still lake. All the senses are open and there is no warping. The phenomena do not disappear, but simply get reflected. Sounds, mental images, sensations, smells are all present without any isolation and there is a flavour of synesthesia to it. This state gives rise to the feeling of spaciousness. It is like being in a large, empty cathedral. Very calm, very free and open. Very light, relaxed, clear headed. There is no sense of boundaries between the senses or internal and external experiences. The body feels transparent and weightless. The mood is relaxed and excited, happy and calm.
My hunch is that the experience of spaciousness and the empty nature of phenomena are related in the following way. As our mind lets go of reification, phenomena arise as continuously interconnected and interdependent, yet without ground in essence. Our awareness no longer has a reference point. Witnessing this open, ever-expanding web gives us a sense of space. Space is where sound, touch, feelings and sight can interrelate and provide context for each other.
Sutric path
The part of the spiritual journey oriented towards emptiness is called Sutric in Vajrayana. It is the classic Buddhism of Pali Canon sutras. It is characterised by asceticism and minimalism. Emptiness is associated with wisdom, space, chaos, nebulosity, feminine. People on this path often start wearing simpler clothes, enjoying the silence and space. They shed a lot of their habits, possessions and relationships. Their experience becomes more fluid and undefined — like water. This is the first important and necessary part of a spiritual journey. A word of warning here is not to fall into nihilism — empty doesn’t mean non-existing. Maintaining joy and excitement is important.
Back to form
The vast, calm quietness of ne-pa is very appealing, especially in the hectic modern world. Although monastic or semi-monastic life might work for some, for most of us there is no choice but to participate in the world. After all “emptiness is form” — having realised emptiness and spaciousness it is important to re-engage with the world of form.
Hindus have a metaphor — the Indra’s web. This web is infinitely large and stretches into every dimension. In each vertice of the web there is a multi-faceted diamond, which is reflecting every other diamond in the web. The play of light in this web is the world of form — all and every phenomena are interrelated, co-arise depending on each other. To engage with form from the position of emptiness is to see every phenomenon as a manifestation of the infinite web of relationships. Unique and precious, but impossible to isolate, as the play of light in the jewel of Indra’s web. The work is to develop such an attitude towards our identity, our sense of self, our possessions, our status, and our vision of the past and future. Ultimately, towards every phenomena that arises.
Finding gYo-Wa, the nyam of form
The name of the practice is Lhatong, which can be translated as “further seeing” from Tibetan. Lhatong is traditionally practised with eyes open, focusing on the plane about 1.5 metres in front of you. The meditator should start from ne-pa or as close as one can get to it. From the stillness of ne-pa you should let the mind move, while seeing any arising form as empty — un-isolated, relational, alive. This is a very tricky practice as it is very easy to just fall into a regular flow of common, day-to-day flow of thought. Another obstacle can be that the mind arrests the movement and gets “stuck”. The trick is to keep the feeling of space and keep finding it within the movement of the mind. It might seem counter-intuitive, but there are no distractions in Lhatong — whatever arises becomes the practice. Keep finding space and aliveness in whatever is there. An image of your cat — perfect, a thought about work — great! Just keep finding space in it. It should feel as if the thoughts are thinking you, rather than you thinking them. There is a clear sense of warping and disorientation. It is important not to tense or grasp what is arising. Relax into the flow. Let the senses mingle. If you find yourself stuck with an image, try opening up your hearing.
Here is one exercise that can help you get started. Pick two related sense fields. For me it was my sight and my mind’s eye (where mental imagery is), but it could also be sound and internal voice or something else that suits you best. You gently alternate between the two, observing how they interplay. Give one of them space and look into it with curiosity. Keep observing as long as you can maintain space and aliveness. If you feel you are getting stuck and losing spaciousness, gently give space to the other related sense field, letting the two mingle. Keep cycling. Once you are comfortable with two senses you should add more, ultimately working with all of them.
The fruit of Lhatong is gYo-Wa the nyam of form. It is a surprising, psychedelic experience, a hallucination, a rollercoaster ride. It should feel effortless, fast, exciting, ungrounded, surprising, powerful. It is hard to describe the experience precisely, since its very nature is that of change, variance and difference. Like with other nyams, you will know it when you get there. If you have any doubts — keep going.
Tantric path
The path oriented towards form from the base of emptiness is called Tantric in Vajrayana. Since the world of form is the world of multiplicity there is a broad variety of practices available on this path. One can visualise Yidams (meditational deities) or even become them. Lhatong itself can be practiced in many different ways — with sound, posture or image as focus instead of the free-flow form described above. There is traditionally a strong emphasis on working with a trusted teacher. There is a lot more to Tantra than a few meditation practices and covering it goes far beyond this note. For those interested, I recommend “Wearing the Body of Visions’’ by Ngakpa Chogyam.
Form is associated with compassion, pattern, definition, diversity, multiplicity, order, masculine. The Tantric path is not at all ascetic like the Sutric path. It is engaged with the world. To follow it is to jump into the whirlpool of samsara naked, singing and dancing. To take a ride on a burning train that is falling off a cliff. Tantra is about embracing every sensation — pleasure or pain. Few words of caution here. I’ve noticed that Tantra is being marketed under the “spirituality without discipline” brand of spiritual materialism. Presented almost as an easier path, with less lifestyle compromises — no need to quit drugs or drinking, no need to learn to concentrate or even meditate at all. Spiritualism meets hedonism, love your vices, trust your insecurities. Be very careful with that. It is very important to engage with the Tantric path from the base of emptiness — that is, having gone down the Sutric path sufficiently far. It is when we have realised emptiness that we can re-engage with form without reification.
Non-duality
Unconventional wisdom dissolves all struggles. It is true, simply because it lacks the complication of falsity.
Heart Sutra
The unconventional wisdom states that form is emptiness and emptiness is form. This note has covered the first and the second statement, but how should we understand them together? Would that mean that ne-pa and gYo-Wa are the same state? The answer, paradoxically, is — yes. This is, unsurprisingly, a very tricky topic to engage with and thus it deserves a separate note. I will cover the practice of Nyi’med and how I understand non-duality in the next post, so stay tuned!
References
All the artworks have been generated by the author using Midjourney, apart from the second to last one which is taken from a soviet cartoon “Ух ты, говорящая рыба”.
- “The Mind Illuminated: A Complete Meditation Guide Integrating Buddhist Wisdom and Brain Science for Greater Mindfulness.” Culadasa, Matthew Immergut
- “Roaring Silence. Discovering the Mind of Dzogchen.” Ngakpa Chogyam, Khandro Dechen
- “Shock Amazement.” Ngakpa Chogyam, Khandro Dechen
- “Wearing the Body of Visions” Ngakpa Chogyam
- “Seeing That Frees: Meditations on Emptiness and Dependent Arising” Rob Burbea
- “The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nagarjuna’s Mulamadhyamakakarika” Nāgārjuna (Author), Jay L. Garfield (translator, commentator)
