What is emptiness? A dialogue between Kongzhi and Bodhidharma

In The Legend of Bodhidharma, there is a profound and thought-provoking exchange.

One day, a monk named Kongzhi arrived at Shaolin Temple. With great reverence, he bowed before Bodhidharma and inquired about the concept of emptiness in Buddhist teachings. With hands clasped, he asked:

“Master, you are Bodhidharma, are you not? I am Kongzhi, and my understanding of Buddhism is still shallow. I seek your guidance. The mind, the Buddha, and all beings—these three are empty. The attachment to phenomena is also empty. There is neither saint nor ordinary being, neither giving nor receiving, neither good nor evil—everything is empty. Is this understanding correct?”

Bodhidharma gazed at him silently. Suddenly, he reached out and struck Kongzhi’s head with a firm knock. Kongzhi winced in pain and immediately furrowed his brows, exclaiming, “Master, why did you hit me?”

Bodhidharma smiled faintly and replied calmly, “Since you claim that everything is empty, where does this pain come from?”

Kongzhi was stunned and fell into deep contemplation. After a moment, he murmured, “If everything is truly empty, why do I still feel pain? If even suffering cannot be transcended, then what is the meaning of ’emptiness’?”

Bodhidharma spoke slowly, “See what cannot be seen, hear what cannot be heard, know what cannot be known—that is the truth.”

A realization dawned upon Kongzhi. With a deep bow, he pressed his palms together in gratitude.

What is “emptiness” in Buddhism?

Kongzhi was confused because he was stuck in an intellectual idea of emptiness rather than truly understanding it.

When he said, “Everything is empty,” he was treating emptiness as just a concept, as if it simply meant denying the existence of things. But the moment he felt pain, he immediately reacted to it—showing that his understanding of emptiness hadn’t really changed how he experienced the world.

Emptiness doesn’t mean nothingness—it means things have no fixed, independent existence.

In Buddhism, emptiness isn’t about saying nothing exists. Instead, it means that everything, including the mind, Buddha, and all living beings, only exists because of causes and conditions. Nothing stands alone. Pain, for example, isn’t something absolute—it arises because of certain conditions. If you see pain as something solid and real, you’re clinging to it. But if you insist that pain doesn’t exist at all, you’re falling into another extreme—denying reality altogether.

Bodhidharma struck Kongzhi to break his mistaken idea of emptiness and make him see his own attachment. True emptiness doesn’t mean rejecting pain. It means going beyond being controlled by it. When you realize that pain isn’t something fixed or absolute, then pain and emptiness no longer contradict each other—they coexist.

Emptiness is a wisdom beyond duality

Bodhidharma’s words—”See what cannot be seen, hear what cannot be heard, know what cannot be known”—point directly to the true nature of emptiness.

“See what cannot be seen”—Everything we perceive is fleeting and conditioned. Forms appear real, but they are merely temporary combinations of causes and conditions. To see beyond appearances is to glimpse the eternal truth.

“Hear what cannot be heard”—Ordinary people are moved by external sounds, yet true wisdom does not rely on what is heard outside. Instead, it listens to the “soundless sound”—the inner awareness and reflection that leads to awakening.

“Know what cannot be known”—Everything we think we know is relative. Truth cannot be grasped through words or concepts but must be realized beyond intellectual understanding. The mind, limited as it is, cannot fully comprehend the infinite. Only by letting go of fixed ideas can one truly approach reality.

Emptiness is freedom—flowing with conditions, unbound by attachment

Kongzhi misunderstood emptiness as a passive state, believing that to the diversity of the world—saying “I am not myself” or “pain is not pain”—was to realize emptiness.

But true emptiness is about transcendence and harmony. It is a wisdom that moves freely, without obstruction. Emptiness does not reject the world—it allows one to be fully present in it without being confined or limited by it. Just as a person can be a father, a man, a leader, a teacher, or a friend, these roles do not define or limit who they truly are.

Like water—formless by nature, yet taking the shape of any vessel—emptiness is the ability to adapt and flow without resistance. It does not erase existence but ensures that existence remains unbound.

When Kongzhi clung to the idea of “no saint, no ordinary being; no good, no evil,” he was still trapped in duality. True emptiness does not reject good and evil—it recognizes that both arise from conditions and have no fixed essence. With this understanding, one moves freely within the world, responding without attachment.

As Master Huineng said, “Where the previous thought does not arise, that is the mind; where the next thought does not cease, that is the Buddha.” To let thoughts arise and fade naturally, without clinging, is to follow conditions without attachment—to be empty, yet not empty.

Bodhidharma’s strike—a compassionate awakening

Bodhidharma’s strike was not an act of punishment but an opportunity for sudden awakening—a direct break from conceptual barriers. As long as Kongzhi remained trapped in theoretical discussions of emptiness, he could never truly go beyond them. Only when he directly faced his own mind and experienced the arising and fading of pain could he understand: emptiness does not negate pain, and pain itself is emptiness.

This is the essence of Zen’s direct approach—pointing straight to the mind, bypassing words and intellect to reach the truth. Clinging to emptiness while rejecting phenomena is a form of delusion; clinging to existence while losing sight of one’s nature is also an illusion. True wisdom lies in embracing both emptiness and existence.

As the Heart Sutra states: “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.”

Bodhidharma’s strike was a classic Zen awakening—a wordless revelation. Kongzhi’s reaction to the pain revealed that his understanding of emptiness was still confined to concepts. He had yet to transcend worldly distinctions. That strike forced him to rethink: “What is emptiness? Why do I feel pain? If all is empty, why am I still attached?”

Emptiness is not nothingness, but the absence of inherent nature

In Buddhism, “emptiness” does not mean negating everything, nor is it mere nothingness. If one interprets emptiness as “nothing exists,” they fall into the extreme of nihilism, which is a mistaken view. True emptiness refers to the absence of inherent nature—all things arise due to causes and conditions, without an independent and unchanging essence.

Take water as an example: when there is no wind, it is still and reflective like a mirror; when the wind blows, waves arise. The form of water changes, but its nature remains. The same applies to all things in the world—they are temporary manifestations rather than absolute existences.

Kongzhi’s mistake was that he remained trapped in negation. He believed that understanding “all things are empty” meant rejecting distinctions such as sacred and mundane, good and evil, giving and receiving. However, true emptiness does not deny these phenomena but instead frees one from attachment to them. Bodhidharma’s strike was meant to show Kongzhi that his understanding of emptiness had not yet truly taken root in his mind.

It is important to understand that Kongzhi, Bodhidharma, and the Buddha are ultimately no different from one another. One should not assume that Kongzhi is inferior in cultivation while Bodhidharma is superior. Do not let external appearances obscure the boundless and unobstructed nature of your own mind.

The two levels of emptiness: conceptual understanding and direct realization

1. Conceptual understanding

This is the stage many beginners go through, where emptiness is understood with the interllectual mind. For example, when Kongzhi says, “There is no saint or ordinary being, no giving or receiving, no good or evil,” he is engaging in conceptual emptiness—negating duality in theory and believing that all things are empty.

However, mere conceptual understanding cannot dissolve attachment. This is why Bodhidharma struck him—because Kongzhi was still trapped in intellectual reasoning rather than directly experiencing emptiness. If he had truly realized emptiness, he might have felt pain, but he would not have clung to it, nor would he have questioned Bodhidharma, “Why did you hit me?”

2. Direct realization

Direct realization of emptiness is not a conclusion reached through logical reasoning but an intuitive awakening—directly perceiving that pain itself is empty, and emptiness does not obstruct pain. In other words, it is not about denying the existence of pain but recognizing its absence of inherent nature and its fleeting, insubstantial nature.

The state of realizing emptiness is like a mirror—it reflects everything but clings to nothing. Saints and ordinary beings, good and evil, giving and receiving—all are like the moon in water or flowers in a mirror. They appear due to conditions and vanish when conditions cease, leaving no trace behind.

Imagine walking through a storm. The rain lashes against your face, and the cold bites into your skin, yet you feel neither anger nor suffering. You understand that the storm is temporary and will eventually pass. You no longer cling to the discomfort of the wind and rain but simply accept their presence, experiencing their constant ebb and flow.

Right and wrong, joy and suffering—all are mere illusions that will ultimately fade away. Clinging to them is like trying to write on water—ultimately futile.

The true meaning of seeing, hearing, and knowing

In the end, Bodhidharma said: “See what cannot be seen, hear what cannot be heard, know what cannot be known—only then is it the truth.” This statement is the deepest expression of emptiness.

“See what cannot be seen” – To see all forms yet perceive their inherent emptiness. This is not what the physical eye can grasp but what the mind’s eye perceives. Ordinary beings see only the transient appearances of things; the awakened perceive the truth beyond birth and death. This is true essence.

“Hear what cannot be heard” – What we hear are sounds; what we cannot hear is their inherent silence. As Master Huineng said: “To be detached from external appearances is Zen; to remain undisturbed within is concentration.” If one clings to what is heard, one remains trapped in arising and ceasing. But to hear the silence within sound is to transcend duality—to let perception flow without attachment.

“Know what cannot be known” – Everything we know is acquired; what we do not know is the wisdom beyond distinction. Anything that can be conceived or spoken belongs to the realm of relativity. Only by letting go of conceptual thought and discursive knowledge can one directly realize the source of emptiness—this is clarity.

In the Vimalakirti Sutra, Manjushri asked the bodhisattvas, “How does one enter the gate of non-duality?” Each bodhisattva gave their answer, yet none were ultimate. Finally, Vimalakirti remained silent. Manjushri sighed and said, “This is the true entrance to the gate of non-duality.”

True realization transcends words. It is not about seeking emptiness through dualistic thinking but naturally abiding in it—this is the real meaning of seeing, hearing, and knowing.

How to practice emptiness?

Buddhism teaches emptiness not as an escape from reality, but as a way to transcend its constraints and live with greater freedom and harmony. True emptiness allows one to move through life with ease, adapting to circumstances without being bound by them. The Heart Sutra embodies this wisdom, guiding the mind toward awakening and self-realization.

1. Emptiness in daily life

Emptiness does not mean passivity or inaction—it means going with the flow without attachment.

When facing difficulties, if you can recognize that “all things lack inherent nature and are ever-changing,” you won’t be trapped in suffering.

When others criticize, deceive, or misunderstand you, if you do not cling to these experiences, anger will not arise, and their words will not bring you pain.

2. Emptiness in relationships

When one truly understands emptiness, the mind is no longer swayed by external circumstances. Praise does not inflate the ego, nor does criticism cause distress. This is because all judgments arise and fade due to conditions, like floating clouds—there is no need to cling to them.

3. Emptiness in spiritual practice

If a practitioner clings to practice itself, it becomes another form of attachment. Many people recite the Buddha’s name, meditate, and uphold precepts, yet their minds remain entangled, believing that practice is a kind of achievement.

True practice is the practice of non-practice—even if one upholds precepts with purity, one does not cling to purity; even if one realizes emptiness, one does not cling to emptiness.

As the Diamond Sutra states: “If a bodhisattva clings to the notions of self, others, sentient beings, or lifespan, he is not a true bodhisattva.” A true bodhisattva does not attach to the idea of being a bodhisattva, but simply acts in accordance with emptiness—giving without attachment.

Conclusion: From Conceptual Emptiness to Experiential Emptiness

Kongzhi received Bodhidharma’s blow because he had not yet truly transcended dualistic thinking. His words seemed enlightened, but his mind was still entangled in attachment. That single strike was a direct pointing, forcing him to move beyond intellectual emptiness and into experiential emptiness.

True emptiness is non-attachment. It does not reject the world but moves freely within it. It is not indifference or nihilism, but compassion and wisdom.