Let the Buddha’s wisdom guide us beyond the limits of conceptual thought—so we may live fully in the present moment and walk the path to ultimate bliss.

Preface

Where did the universe come from? Will it exist forever? Questions like these are as captivating as the starry sky, stirring a deep and natural curiosity within us. As children, we may have once asked our father: “Why do the stars twinkle?”

He may have smiled and replied: “You’ll understand when you grow up.”

In the time of the Buddha, the disciple Māluṅkyaputta raised equally profound inquiries:

“World-Honoured One, is the universe eternal or not? Is it limited or boundless? Does the Tathāgata exist after death or not? Is the soul the same as the body, or are they different?”

Yet the Buddha did not respond directly. Instead, he offered the parable of the poisoned arrow in the Cūḷa-Māluṅkyasutta, inviting Māluṅkyaputta to reflect more deeply.

Why did the Buddha remain silent? Was it because there was no answer? Or because any answer would do nothing to alleviate suffering?

Let us explore this parable and uncover the deep wisdom behind the Buddha’s silence—not evasion, but compassionate guidance inviting us to step beyond the fetters of conceptual thought, to live fully in the present moment, and to walk the path toward the supreme bliss of liberation.

The Story: The Teaching of the Poisoned Arrow

Māluṅkyaputta asked the Buddha:

“Is the universe eternal or not? Is it limited or boundless? Does the Tathāgata exist after death or not? Is the soul the same as the body, or are they different?”

The Buddha calmly replied:

“Imagine a man who has been struck by a poisoned arrow, the wound still bleeding. Yet instead of seeking immediate treatment, he insists on asking: ‘Who shot the arrow? What kind of wood was it made from? Where did it come from? Is the arrowhead iron or copper? What kind of tree was the bow carved from? What kind of bird’s feathers were used for the fletching?’”

These questions multiply endlessly. Before he can finish asking, the poison will already have taken his life.

The most urgent matter is not to answer such questions. If he refuses treatment until every detail is explained, then his life is lost. We must rush him to the hospital, where the doctor can stop the bleeding, remove the arrow, disinfect the wound, give a transfusion, and save his life. The rest can wait. That is the purpose of the ambulance—to preserve life.

The Buddha then continued:

“What I teach is the wisdom of removing the arrow—for the swift protection of the wisdom-life. It begins with the Four Noble Truths: to understand suffering, its cause, its cessation, and the path that leads to liberation. From there, one cultivates various practices to purify body and mind.”

Upon hearing this, Māluṅkyaputta released his endless doubts, devoted himself to practice, and at last found inner peace.

As we continue, we will explore these mysteries of the universe, reflect on how the Dharma illuminates its nature, and share practical ways to open the path of liberation for all.

The Mental Trap: The Confines of Time and Space

Why did the Buddha choose not to answer those questions? Because he understood that our consciousness is constrained by the frameworks of “time” and “space,” and that we are habitually bound by linear thinking—always searching for a beginning and an end, only to become ensnared in an endless loop. It is just like the classic riddle of the chicken and the egg:

Someone asks: “Where did the chicken come from?”

We answer: “From the egg.”

Then they ask: “Where did the egg come from?”

We reply: “Oh, it was laid by a chicken.”

And so it continues—was the first chicken born from the first egg, or the first egg laid by the first chicken? This line of questioning is like a bottomless pit—perpetual and unresolvable.

Such thinking is precisely what Bodhisattva Xuanzang described in the Yogācārabhūmi-śāstra as the “fallacy of infinite regress”—a loop of speculative reasoning with no exit. This is a logical fallacy, similar to the concept of infinite regress in mathematics. Attempting to use our limited minds to unravel an infinite web of causes and conditions is as futile as trying to count every grain of sand on a beach.

If we say: “The universe was created by God,” then where did God come from? Who created God?” And the cycle begins again—like a dog chasing its own tail, forever spinning but never able to catch it.

Take water as another example:

Someone asks: “Where does water come from?”

We answer: “From rain.”

Then where does rain come from?

Science tells us: “Water on Earth is heated by the sun, evaporates into vapor, rises into the atmosphere, condenses into clouds, and then falls back down as rain.”

Then where does the sun’s energy come from?

Scientists explain: “From nuclear fusion—hydrogen atoms fusing into helium, releasing energy.”

And where did hydrogen come from?

They answer: “From the Big Bang, from a singularity 13.8 billion years ago.”

And before the singularity?

Science replies: “We don’t know.”

This is yet another infinite loop with no beginning and no end. Science can observe “phenomena”—such as rain, stars, and molecules—but it cannot reach the “noumenon.”

This noumenon is not merely an answer to “Where did water first come from?” It refers to the ultimate reality beyond language—true suchness, the Dharma Realm—inconceivable to the mind of ordinary beings. Buddhism teaches that to glimpse this noumenon, we must deeply observe phenomena to realize their impermanence and dependent origination; then, through the cultivation of concentration and wisdom, we can sever self-attachment and transcend the limitations of time and space. As the Heart Sutra states:

“All dharmas are marked by emptiness; they neither arise nor cease, are neither defiled nor pure, neither increase nor decrease…”

Yet even scripture can only point us in the right direction. Only through countless lifetimes of practice can one attain unsurpassed, perfect enlightenment, realize ultimate awakening, and gain complete understanding of noumenon. This is the transcendent nature of Buddhism.

Later, we will share concrete methods which anyone can use—through diligent practice and mindful observation of phenomena—to realize noumenon and achieve true liberation.

The Avataṃsaka Sūtra states:

“There is no beginning or end, no inside or outside; distinctions are provisionally established, this is called the Dharma Realm.”

The universe is not as we imagine—it does not have a clear “beginning” or “end.”

When we draw a circle and say, “This is the starting point,” that point is also the end. The beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning.

How can this be?

Because our minds operate through dualistic thinking, distinguishing “beginning” from “end,” yet the Dharma Realm transcends all such distinctions.

We call it the Dharma Realm only as a provisional label for the sake of discussion. The Buddha recognized that these questions emerge from the samsaric cycle of conceptual thought, which traps us in endless bondage.

The Human Limitation: Boundaries of Body and Mind

Our thinking is not only confined by time and space—it is also limited by the boundaries of the body and the mind.

Imagine an elementary school student asking his father: “What do people learn in university?”

The father replies: “Calculus, biology…”

The child presses on: “What’s calculus?”

The father is momentarily speechless, realizing that even if he tries his best to explain it, the child could not possibly understand. It would only be a waste of time.

So the father gently responds: “Just focus on learning the basics for now. When you grow up and go to university, you’ll naturally understand.”

In the same way, when Māluṅkyaputta asked the Buddha, “Is the universe eternal?” it was like a young child asking about calculus—an inquiry far beyond his capacity to understand.

The Buddha knew that even if he gave an answer, our minds would not be prepared to receive it.

This is why he taught: Save yourself first; do not waste time chasing unbeneficial questions.

It was not that the Buddha did not know the truth about the universe, but that he understood deeply: we must begin by practicing the Four Noble Truths—simple yet essential teachings, like learning addition before calculus. Only by laying this foundation of wisdom can we gradually come to understand whether the universe has a beginning or an end.

The Four Noble Truths are the very heart of the Buddha’s teaching—just as addition is to mathematics—guiding us to cross the sea of suffering and step onto the path of liberation.

The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says:

“Seeking delusion through delusion is as futile as cooking sand into rice.”

When we search for truth using the deluded mind—a mind tainted by self-grasping—it is like trying to cook sand and expecting it to become rice. It simply cannot be done.

The Third Patriarch, Sengcan, wrote in Faith in Mind:

“The Way is not difficult, if not for picking and choosing.”

And also:

“When one thought departs from the truth, all dharmas go astray.”

Our minds are fond of discriminating between “existence” and “nonexistence,” “beginning” and “end,” yet such distinctions are themselves traps of the deluded mind.

The Second Patriarch, Huike, also taught:

“When you search for the mind, it cannot be found.”

To seek the truth with a deluded mind is like trying to catch fish with a torn net—you will never grasp what you seek.

The Limits of the Body: The Narrowness of the Senses

The limitations of our physical body are evident and profoundly shape how we perceive the world. Humans rely on sight, hearing, smell, and thought to understand phenomena, yet our senses are inherently narrow. This narrowness leads us to misperceive the nature of life and reality. Our senses are like a veil of mist, causing us to see permanence where there is impermanence, to grasp at self where there is no self, and to obscure the ultimate reality of noumena. For this reason, the Buddha taught us not to rely solely on sensory perception, but to cultivate prajñā—wisdom born of insight—to see through appearances and directly realize true suchness. Only in this way can we dissolve delusion and walk the path of liberation.

The following examples illustrate the limitations of our senses and cognition:

• Vision: An eagle can spot a small fish beneath the surface from three kilometers above, while humans struggle to read a road sign just 500 meters away. Our eyes detect only a narrow range of visible light—wavelengths between 400 and 700 nanometers. Ultraviolet and infrared light remain entirely unseen.
• Hearing: A dog can hear an ambulance siren from two kilometers away. Whales can detect the calls of their companions from fifty kilometers across the ocean. Humans, by contrast, hear only within the range of 20 to 20,000 hertz and are completely deaf to ultrasound and infrasound.
• Smell: A bear can smell food from 32 kilometers away. We may not even notice a scent drifting from just ten meters.
• Cognition: Our brains receive countless stimuli every second, as though bombarded by thousands of sounds at once. Yet our conscious awareness registers only a tiny sliver—like peering at the world through a narrow window. This restricted attention causes us to overlook vast details of the universe, often leading to distorted understandings.
• Scientific discoveries: Modern science reveals that subatomic particles can appear in multiple places simultaneously, overturning conventional ideas of spatial position. The universe has existed for approximately 13.8 billion years, yet what came before its origin remains a mystery. Time itself fluctuates with speed, challenging our usual perception of its flow. Such findings point to the profound limits of our understanding of space and time.

The Limits of the Mind: The Veil of the Deluded Mind

Our thoughts are likewise veiled by the fog of mental delusions, far more profoundly than by the limitations of the senses. The mind flows moment by moment like a stream. Yet, clinging to the illusion of a permanent self, we frequently mistake appearances for reality, and fail to perceive the true suchness of noumena. The Buddha taught that only through the cultivation of prajñā-wisdom can we see through these delusions, perceive the true suchness of reality, and advance toward liberation.

The following examples illustrate the limitations of the mind:

The delusion of clinging to thought: We often grasp at our thoughts, treating them as real. It is like arguing in a dream—once we awaken, it was all empty. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: “When the mind is pure, the Buddha-land is pure.” If our minds follow delusive thoughts, we see a chaotic world. But when we rely on the wisdom of prajñā, the mind becomes pure—and in that clarity, we perceive true suchness. This clinging to thought is what causes us to misinterpret phenomena and keeps us from liberation.

The impermanence of thought: We assume there is a fixed “self,” yet each thought arises and vanishes like lightning. The Diamond Sutra says: “The past mind cannot be grasped, the present mind cannot be grasped, the future mind cannot be grasped.” Yesterday’s thoughts have already vanished; today’s thoughts arise and disappear in an instant. How can any of these be the true self? This attachment leads to mistaken views and binds us to samsara.

The obstruction of discriminative thinking: Our minds habitually divide things into “existence” and “nonexistence,” “good” and “bad.” It is like trying to freeze a flowing stream into segments, mistaking what is impermanent for something fixed. Faith in Mind teaches: “If you wish to know the true mind, do not cling to discrimination.” For instance, we rejoice at the blooming of a flower and grieve at its fading. Yet this sorrow arises from the discriminating mind. Unable to see the truth of impermanence, we misread the nature of life.

The limits of intellect: Our understanding is like a small cup trying to hold the vast ocean—it cannot contain it. Scientists explore the cosmos but understand only the surface of phenomena; they cannot touch the underlying noumena. As the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra states: “The knowledge of ordinary beings is like the blind feeling an elephant.” Each touches only a part, mistaking it for the whole. So too does the deluded mind fail to see the full picture.

To be continued…