How to Contemplate That All Dharmas Are the Nature of Tathāgatagarbha

In the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, the World-Honored One repeatedly explains that the five aggregates and eighteen elements are all of the nature of the tathāgatagarbha—they are neither of the nature of dependent arising nor of the nature of naturalness. That they are neither of the nature of dependent arising nor of the nature of naturalness can be understood through much contemplation. But the nature of the tathāgatagarbha itself is extremely hard to understand; even after realizing the tathāgatagarbha, it is still difficult to observe, and it is not so easy to comprehend either. The formless and markless seeds of the four great elements compose the tiniest of particles; the particles then gather together to form slightly larger particles, and then the seeds of the four great elements continually compose particles, and the particles continually gather together, finally forming material form visible to the naked eye. From nothing to something—from empty, formless seeds to tangible, tiniest particles—this in itself is utterly marvelous, just like magic; that is why it is said that the tathāgatagarbha is a magician. It is said that the tathāgatagarbha outputs the seeds of the four great elements, but in reality the seeds of the four great elements never go outside the tathāgatagarbha; the particles they compose do not go outside the tathāgatagarbha, and the material form they form does not go outside the tathāgatagarbha either. Our physical body arises and ceases within the tathāgatagarbha, never going outside of it. The tathāgatagarbha is formless and without marks, so how could the physical body have form and marks? What state is it actually in, then? If material form were to arise, it would necessarily have to separate from the tathāgatagarbha and go outside of it, having an independent form and appearance; the seeds of the four great elements would go outside the tathāgatagarbha, and when they ceased, they would return into the tathāgatagarbha. But the seeds of the four great elements are formless—how could they transform into tangible matter? How does the conversion take place? Outside the tathāgatagarbha, how would matter exist and change? Who would rely upon it? The seeds of the four great elements compose particles, the particles gather and compose larger particles, the seeds of the four great elements continually compose particles, the particles continually gather, and finally the physical body appears, with form and marks. Yet the physical body has no arising—it has not gone outside the tathāgatagarbha. Since the seeds of the four great elements have not gone outside the tathāgatagarbha, the physical body cannot go outside the tathāgatagarbha. If the seeds of the four great elements left the tathāgatagarbha to form particles, once they left the tathāgatagarbha, how would they have functions and effects? Who would give these to them? Once the seeds leave the tathāgatagarbha, how would they operate? How could the formless be transformed into the tangible? If the physical body went outside the tathāgatagarbha, how would it exist and change? Who would rely upon it? At death, when the four great elements separate and the seeds return into the tathāgatagarbha, how do they go back? If they had gone outside the tathāgatagarbha, there would be no question of returning into the tathāgatagarbha. It turns out it is all the tathāgatagarbha playing by itself, putting on a show by itself, performing magic for itself to watch, amusing itself. When seeds of consciousness are produced, they form the conscious mind; since the seeds of consciousness do not go outside the tathāgatagarbha, the conscious mind does not go outside the tathāgatagarbha. Apart from the tathāgatagarbha there are no seeds; apart from the tathāgatagarbha there is no conscious mind, no mental factors of the conscious mind, no feeling, perception, formations, or consciousness. If feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness operate within the tathāgatagarbha, arising and ceasing, arising and ceasing in disorder, then form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are all affairs within the tathāgatagarbha's own household—the illusions have not been conjured outside the house; the tathāgatagarbha enjoys them alone, amusing itself. No dharma whatsoever goes outside the tathāgatagarbha, and therefore there is no arising; nor does anything return into the tathāgatagarbha, and therefore there is no ceasing. There is no phenomenon in the world at all, nor any world; there is nothing, nothing exists—so we might as well just sleep all day long. But who is it that sleeps all day? The rules and principles within the tathāgatagarbha are so mysterious, so uncanny—if we do not figure them out, I am afraid we will not sleep well anyway.