What we commonly refer to as "instinctual" and "physiological" phenomena may appear to encompass both physical and mental dimensions. At root, however, they remain entirely matters of the "mind"—because in Buddhist philosophy, the "body" is nothing more than an external reflection of the mind.
Someone might ask: "If that is so, why can brain damage impair our mental capacity and awareness?" The answer lies in the fact that an injury to the brain damages the physical sensory organ through which the sixth consciousness operates. Such damage naturally impairs mental functioning. Changes in the physical body inevitably affect the mind, for otherwise the doctrine of the "non-duality of mind and body" would not hold true. Consider how drug abuse alters human physiology: this occurs precisely due to the principle of the "unity of mind and matter". If alterations in external conditions (matter, or form-dharmas) failed to induce corresponding shifts in both body and mind, how could mind and matter be truly indivisible? The ultimate aim of spiritual practice is to empower the "mind" to transform "body" and "matter," rather than allowing the "mind" to be dictated by them. Once the mind has been transformed, the spontaneous formation of sacred relics (śarīra)—a manifestation of physical and material change—is not surprising in the least.
The Yogācāra (Consciousness-Only) school distinguishes eight types of consciousness within the mind. The practice of mind training focuses primarily on transmuting the sixth consciousness (mental consciousness) and the seventh consciousness (manas, perpetually clinging to a self). In the course of this transformation, the first five consciousnesses (the sensory consciousnesses of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body) together with the eighth consciousness (ālayavijñāna, the storehouse consciousness) are naturally transmuted in tandem.
Outwardly, this process manifests as tangible shifts in the physical body and the external environment (form-dharmas). To express this in technical terms: transmuting the sixth and seventh consciousnesses realizes the Dharma-body (Dharmakāya), whereas transmuting the first five and the eighth consciousnesses yields the Enjoyment-body (Sambhogakāya) and the Emanation-body (Nirmāṇakāya). The transformations through which the latter two bodies are realized encompass changes in both the physical body and the external world.
Spiritual practice, therefore, generally emphasizes the cultivation of mind—which is to say, transmuting the sixth and seventh consciousnesses, thereby driving the corresponding transformation of the first five and eighth consciousnesses. When the first five consciousnesses are transmuted, they become the "all-accomplishing wisdom" (Kṛty-anuṣṭhāna-jñāna); upon perfection, the five corresponding supernormal powers arise. Transmuting the sixth consciousness yields the "wisdom of discernment" (Pratyavekṣaṇā-jñāna). Most crucial, however, is transmuting the seventh consciousness into the "wisdom of equality" (Samatā-jñāna); when fully perfected, this yields the "supernormal power of extinction of outflows", which constitutes the absolute key to stepping beyond samsāra.
Nevertheless, certain paths work in reverse by first transforming the five sensory consciousnesses before tackling the sixth and seventh. For instance, through meditative absorption (dhyāna), the five sensory consciousnesses undergo shifts that trigger supernormal abilities, after which the practitioner can transmute the sixth and seventh consciousnesses with greater ease.
Yet whether one initiates the journey from the "body" or from the "mind," the ultimate goal remains identical: to awaken to the true nature of the mind. If one concentrates exclusively upon the "body" and the "external environment," one falls into "seeking the dharma outside the mind", thereby departing from the Buddhist path. Examples include practicing qigong merely for physical health, or pursuing empirical science solely to satisfy material desires and intellectual curiosity. Even more deceptive are those non-Buddhist paths that utilize seating meditation to achieve a partial transformation of the first five consciousnesses, gaining some supernormal powers while ignoring the fundamental "power of extinction of outflows." Though their powers may be vast, they remain trapped within the cycle of rebirth. The Śūraṅgama Sūtra is dedicated specifically to discerning such non-Buddhist deviations—which is why it is traditionally hailed as the sūtra for "attaining enlightenment."
To be even more concrete, consider the question: "Why does the sleep of an enlightened master differ from that of an ordinary person?" To worldly perception, sleep appears to be a basic biological instinct and physiological necessity. In Yogācāra doctrine, however, sleep is classified as a mental factor—a phenomenon arising in the mind—referred to here as lethargy. When mind cultivation reaches a certain degree where the sixth and seventh consciousnesses are transformed into luminous clarity, freed from lethargy, sleep is no longer required. Yet if the first five and eighth consciousnesses have not been fully transmuted, the physical body still demands rest; in such cases, many awakened masters will simply use their "mind" to watch over their physical body as it sleeps. Ordinary unawakened beings, by contrast, experience both physical sleep and mental cloudiness simultaneously. When the eighth consciousness is fully transmuted, body and mind become utterly unified, and neither requires sleep. Even what appears to be “sleep” is merely an outward display.
Buddhist teachings offer a comprehensive account of all “instinctive” and “physiological” phenomena. Take sexual desire, for example: when the cultivation of mind has freed one entirely from sexual desire, even the sight of someone of the opposite sex arouses no sexual interest, and no lustful thoughts arise even in dreams. Yet this alone does not mean the eighth consciousness has been fully transmuted. Were that transformation complete, the body would, like the Buddha’s, exhibit the physical mark of a male organ concealed within a sheath, like that of a horse (kośopagatasvastaguhya).
The same applies to eating: once the sixth and seventh consciousnesses have been transformed, one can consume any food without preference or aversion although the tongue-consciousness still discerns pleasant and unpleasant tastes. When all eight consciousnesses have been fully transmuted at Buddhahood, every piece of food tastes exquisitely delicious, because the Buddha's aggregates, realms, and elements (skandha-dhātu-āyatana) are entirely free of unwholesome seeds. Why, then, did the Buddha appear to experience back pain, consume coarse horse-barley, or suffer an injury to his toe? Because sentient beings required such lessons; he manifested these phenomena deliberately so that all might understand the gravity of cause and effect.
This article is a preliminary translation draft and has not yet been reviewed or proofread by the speaker.
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