Where Is Our Mind? The Third Eye and the Mind's Eye as One
In Buddhism, there is the concept of the Five Eyes: the physical eye, the heavenly eye, the wisdom eye, the Dharma eye, and the Buddha eye. The physical eye is the ordinary eye of the unenlightened, while the other four are attained through cultivation. Among them, the heavenly eye is the most commonly discussed. In Buddhism, there are two kinds of heavenly eye: one is karmically inherited from past lives, and the other is developed through practice in this life. However, both require sustained concentration and meditative stability. Otherwise, past-life karmic conditions may draw us back into storylines, even causing the heavenly eye to devolve into the ghost eye. In other words, the heavenly eye is still "leaking"—it remains within illusion and has not transcended appearances. Only through continuous refinement and the growth of wisdom can one eventually attain the Buddha eye.
So, what does this have to do with the heart or mind? In truth, the mind and the eye are one. Because of the discriminating mind, we divide energy into what can be seen, heard, felt, or touched. But the "eye" referred to here is not simply the physical eye—it is the eye before discrimination arises. In other words, the mind is the eye, and the eye is the mind. They are originally one and the same. It is only due to our limited understanding, bound by the physical organ of the eye, that we falsely believe the eye is merely for seeing images. For the sake of easier explanation, we separate them—but this is only a convenient way of speaking.
Once we understand that the heart and the eye are one, we realize the mind is capable not only of seeing images but also of hearing sound—and even perceiving ultimate reality. And when we look deeper, we find that the heart has powers far beyond just perception.
The mind is not constrained by time or space. It is always present, everywhere at once, and omniscient. Yet it can also shrink—shrink to the size of this single “me,” bound by ego. When the mind contracts to hold only the self and its attachments, it builds walls to separate itself from everything it rejects or cannot see. This means the mind has both the function of grasping and the power of excluding. At the same time, the mind can be vast beyond measure.
As stated in the Diamond Sutra:
“The Tathāgata comes from nowhere and goes nowhere, hence the name Tathāgata.”
This “Tathāgata” is the pure mind that has let go of ego and self-identity—the mind that is ever-present, free from all forms. This is our original mind. This is how the mind truly is.
The mind has the power to create from emptiness. Energy itself is neither increased nor diminished, nor does it arise or perish. Before the mind applies distinctions, energy is nothing in particular. But once the discriminating mind arises, energy becomes the raw material for all things. The mind gives energy its attributes—it labels, shapes, and manifests.
The moment we have a thought or intention, energy transforms—into forms, sounds, objects, or even intangible emotions. Everyone’s discriminating mind is different, which results in a shared yet individually distinct illusion of time and space.
So, when the mind is small, limited to the personal ego, it can create a personal material and spiritual world. But when the mind becomes vast beyond measurement, it attains the power of divine creation.
If the mind is so powerful, why do we say every person’s mind is in a state of ignorance? Why must we cultivate in order to awaken and see our true nature?
Because we have shrunk the mind—shrunk it to fit only “me” and what relates to “me.” When the mind revolves around the ego, the world becomes limited. Within this limited world, the mind’s power is diminished. It becomes tethered to desires, name and fame, and emotional entanglements. Karma begins to pull the mind in all directions, and the creative power is lost. The mind becomes a small-time scriptwriter, constantly playing out imagined hopes and fears. This is ignorance: the forgetting of our true power and original state.
That’s why we live in contradiction—we want this, then want that; when we have that, we prefer this. The mind keeps leaping between dualities. We’re always seeking something, yet always feel something’s missing.
Thus, we must use illusion to return to truth—to restore our original state. This is why the first goal in cultivation is to “illuminate the mind and see the true nature.” Only then can the mind return to light, to freedom. Because only then do we remember: this “I” is not the true self.
It’s a great question. The answer is simple: fear. The ego is afraid of disappearing.
Let’s look at how the ego came to be. There’s a theory that the earliest souls to arrive on Earth began as minerals. Over countless eons, these minerals gradually developed self-awareness. Through a complex web of causes and conditions, life on Earth evolved, eventually leading to humans.
Somewhere in this immeasurable stretch of time, something happened that caused this shift—from a state with no sense of “I” to a self-aware being. This “I” was born from accumulated egoic grasping: This is mine, I want this, I reject that... We kept labeling, claiming, and defining our territory. These countless acts of ego-grasping built the “me.”
Once the “I” was separated out, the heart was split. The original mind lost its power, and bound by ego, it fell into deeper and deeper ignorance. When we begin to walk the spiritual path and transform karma into the Way, these collected ego fragments naturally resist.
Only when we deeply feel the pain of this existence do we begin to slow down and reflect on the nature of the self. And that is when the opportunity for cultivation naturally arises.