Why Can’t Sentient Beings Eat Pork?

A learner asked: "How can one avoid falling into stages?" Huangbo Chan Master said: "Eating all day yet never chewing a single grain of rice; walking all day yet never treading upon a single patch of ground. At such times, there are no notions of self or others. Remaining constantly engaged in all activities yet unconfused by any state, only then can one be called a liberated being. Moreover, constantly and in every thought, do not perceive any phenomena. Do not acknowledge past, present, or future boundaries—the past boundary has not departed, the present boundary does not abide, the future boundary has not arrived. Serenely sit upright, acting spontaneously without constraint, only then is it called liberation. Strive diligently! In this path, out of thousands and tens of thousands, only three or five attain it. If you do not take this as your task, calamity will surely come upon you one day, hence it is said to exert effort. This life must be resolved—who can endure calamity across countless eons!"

Here, "stages" refer to the sequential stages of practice. "Not falling into stages" means directly reaching the most fundamental, ultimate essence of Dharma. How can one be considered to have directly realized emptiness? Huangbo Chan Master replied: If one can achieve this state—eating all day as if not consuming a single grain of rice (the mind empty, unattached to "I"), walking all day as if not treading upon a single patch of ground (the mind empty, unattached to "I"), not dwelling on the appearances of one’s own eating or walking. Upon reaching this state, there are no notions of "person" or "self" in the mind. Though constantly engaged in all activities, one is not confused by any state, not bound by any appearances—only then can one be called a liberated being. Additionally, one must constantly, in every thought, not perceive any phenomena. Do not think that all dharmas have past, present, or future boundaries, because the past boundary has not departed, the present boundary does not linger moment to moment, and the future boundary has not arrived. Serenely sit upright at all times, acting spontaneously, unbound by dharmas—this is called liberation.

This is the state after realizing prajñā in Chan, the state of emptiness of the five aggregates. Why is it empty? Because it arises from the tathagatagarbha, hence it is said to be empty. This state surpasses that of Śrāvaka emptiness and is immeasurably higher than the state of ordinary beings’ substantiality, yet it still falls short of the ultimate emptiness of Vijñānavāda. At the Śrāvaka and Prajñā levels, there is emptiness of person; at the Vijñānavāda level, there is emptiness of dharmas. Emptiness of dharmas, building upon emptiness of person, is more subtle, extensive, and profound.

Take eating, for example. At the Prajñā level, it is understood that there is no "I" eating, no eating "I"—one does not cling to the appearance of an "I" eating. But in Vijñānavāda, even the appearance of the rice is absent. Consider the commonly discussed act of eating pork: the five aggregates fundamentally cannot contact the substantial outer manifestation of pork; they can only contact the inner manifestation of pork within the scope of consciousness. Yet after eating the pork, not only is the inner manifestation gone, but the outer manifestation also disappears. Why is this?

Not contacting the substantial pork means one hasn’t truly eaten pork. Then what is it that enters the mouth and is swallowed into the stomach? The mouth eats rice, but the rice is within the scope of consciousness; the mouth, teeth, and tongue are also within the scope of consciousness. And the "you" who is eating is also empty. So, have you eaten rice? Replace rice with pork: have you eaten pork? What you ate was the inner manifestation of pork, yet the outer manifestation of pork is gone. How did it vanish? A secret—a great secret—worthy of contemplation for a lifetime, worthy of contemplation for great kalpas.

This Dharma is profound. Even with a foundation of severing the view of self from Śrāvaka practice and realizing the mind in Mahayana, it is not easy to contemplate. The arising and ceasing of inner and outer manifestations are all functions of the tathagatagarbha. The functions of the six consciousnesses are also results of the tathagatagarbha’s functioning. All dharmas are the tathagatagarbha—without awakening, one fundamentally cannot penetrate this.

Since beginningless kalpas, sentient beings have never contacted a single one of the six dusts (forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tangibles, and mental objects), yet every moment they claim these six dusts as their own, mentally and verbally repeating: "This is mine, that is mine—my body, my family, my words, the sound I hear, the meat I eat, the water I drink, the bed I sleep on, my power, status, fame, etc." You cannot contact this scent or that taste—which of them is yours? Life after life, pursuing and chasing—it turns out to be struggling against emptiness, competing with emptiness, playing games with emptiness. And since you yourself are also empty, it’s emptiness contending with emptiness—the protagonist of the game doesn’t exist, so the so-called contention is also empty. Rather than wasting time on worldly games, wouldn’t it be better to explore these truths, so as not to play games in vain life after life? Is truth not attractive?

Someone bangs a stick against a table, then firmly believes: "See? I hit the table, I showed my might, I vented my anger." But in reality, the stick is within the scope of consciousness, the hand is within the scope of consciousness, the table is within the scope of consciousness, the action is within the scope of consciousness, seeing this action happens within the scope of consciousness, hearing the sound happens within the scope of consciousness, feeling that anger was vented happens within the scope of consciousness—all activities of the five aggregates are fabricated within the scope of consciousness.

How large is the scope of consciousness to contain so many dharmas? Far more than these—billions upon billions of dharmas, immeasurable dharmas, all occur within the scope of consciousness. Only empty dharmas, dharmas without substantial nature, can reside within the scope of consciousness. Substantial, phenomenal dharmas cannot enter the scope of consciousness. All dharmas in the world lack substance; all are empty, all are images, all are shadows. Pork is likewise, eating pork is likewise, "I" eating pork is likewise—there is no such person or event. So what is there to cling to? What is there to pursue? O foolish ones!

To realize this principle, one must first sever the view of self, then realize the mind. Severing the view of self and realizing the emptiness of the five aggregates is crucial. The issue of inner and outer manifestations is contemplated after awakening, when both samadhi and prajñā are profound enough to find some entry point. Only by contemplating from the perspective of the tathagatagarbha can one gain clarity, because the essence of all dharmas is the functional activity of the tathagatagarbha.

Neither the tathagatagarbha nor the five aggregates have ever contacted or possessed any worldly dharma, yet the outer and inner manifestations of all worldly dharmas continuously arise and cease, being constantly fabricated. This phenomenon is indeed difficult for people to accept. Ordinary people find it hard to believe in empty dharmas, being accustomed to clinging to existence. Yet all Buddhist teachings, whether Mahayana or Hinayana, point to emptiness. Emptied to the end, utterly naked, when emptiness is completely perfected, one becomes a Buddha.