This is a bit cryptic. The wrong question is “Where do the four elements cease without remainder?” The right question is “Where do the
four elements no footing find?” This harkens back to the verses after the Bāhiya sutta, where the Buddha says where
the four elements
no footing find, there dark and light don’t occur. Here, he expands the teaching to say it’s where consciousness is signless, limitless, and
all-illuminating.
When you see a table, you’re seeing the signs of a table. It’s got a flat top and legs holding it up off the ground. That’s how you know
it’s a table. You pick up the cues, the signs. So what does it mean that consciousness is signless? How about a consciousness that is,
well, in seeing is just seeing, in hearing is just hearing, in sensing is just sensing, in cognizing is just cognizing? How about a
consciousness that is not fabricating, not concocting a table, not giving birth to a table, not making this a table? It’s a way of
experiencing the world without fixating in any way on the objects or characteristics of any object being sensed – or on the one doing the
sensing. It's looking at the world from a non-dual perspective.
Nibbāna is not a thing. It doesn’t have ontological existence. It’s a realization. It’s a realization that there is nothing but streams of
dependently originated processes interacting, without even making a thing out of the streams. If you concoct “stream,” you still have not
quite gotten all the way to the point. Every thing is not a thing, it’s just dependent on other things which aren’t things. It’s a little hard to
talk about. You can see why the Buddha says it’s not this and it’s not that.
It’s consciousness that is signless. But it's not just your ordinary open awareness – which is also a form of consciousness that is signless.
Indeed open awareness/Bāhiya practice is certainly helpful in gaining this realization. But the realization of Nibbāna does seem to
require a breakthrough to a much deeper understanding – an understanding that is so profound that it permanently changes the way you
experience the world. The best totally inadequate simile I can offer is to ask you to remember what it was like when you found out there
was no Santa Claus (apologies to those of you who never believed in Santa Claus – it is an inadequate simile). I remember I saw the
world differently. There was fear – fear I wouldn't be getting any more of those really premium Christmas presents. But there was also a
different way of seeing the world and of relating to the big guy in the red suit. The world wasn't any different, but I was. The
breakthrough experience of Nibbāna is a realization so profound it permanently changes you and your relationship to the world. And a
very important component of what is experienced is signless consciousness.’”‡
When consciousness is signless, it’s also limitless. There can’t be any limits because a limit would be a sign. You’re not concocting the
end of this consciousness, it really is all-encompassing, and it’s all-illuminating. When viewing from this viewpoint, when realizing in
this way, nothing is hidden. Everything is experienced to be dependent on other things. Nothing stands alone. And nothing is a thing, it’s
all verbs, it’s all processes, but they aren’t individual processes. One gets this huge, giant picture of, I guess you could say, unfolding.
Not “the unfolding,” because that makes it a noun, a thing – there’s just unfolding. Can you experience the world like that? Can you
experience the inconstant, unsatisfactory, empty nature of phenomena, without resorting to dualities or even signs? Then your
consciousness is signless, limitless, and all-illuminating. That’s where earth, water, fire and air no footing find. There long and short,
small and great, beautiful and ugly; there name-and-form all come to an end.
The last line is really puzzling. “With the cessation of consciousness, all this comes to an end.” Does that mean you have to become
unconscious? The usual explanation is that, at a path moment – a momentary experience of Nibbāna – there’s a cessation experience
where everything stops, then it starts up again, only it’s really different on the other side. That turns out not to be what’s being talked
about here, because the idea of “path moments” is from the later commentaries and this is a sutta.
The word viññāṇa which we translate as “consciousness” literally means “divided knowing.” When divided knowing comes to an end,
all these dualities come to an end. When we stop chopping up the holistic unfolding into bits and pieces, then all this comes to an end.
As Ud 8.1 says, “Just this is the end of dukkha.”
This required holistic experience is expressed so very eloquently by Kitaro Nishida in his work The Nothingness Beyond God:
Pure experience is the beginning of Zen. It is awareness stripped of all thought, all conceptualization, all categorization, and all
distinctions between subject-as-having-an-experience and experience-as-having-been-had-by-a-subject. It is prior to all judgment.
Pure experience is without all distinction; it is pure no-thingness, pure no-this-or-that. It is empty of any and all distinctions. It is
absolutely no-thing at all. Yet its emptiness and nothingness is a chock-a-block fullness, for it is all experience-to-come. It is rose,
child, river, anger, death, pain, rocks, and cicada sounds. We carve these discrete events and entities out of a richer-yet-non-
distinct manifold of pure experience."