Dialogues on Buddhism on the New Year s Eve - 2026

Here is the original in Russian: http://proza.ru/2026/01/01/1336


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Who knows why, at the end of December 2025, the idea suddenly occurred to me to discuss the meaning of a Buddhist parable with a neural network. I can’t quite say what prompted it. Perhaps it was the release of a new AI version—ChatGPT 5.2—and a sudden curiosity about how this iteration might interpret an ancient story. What if it saw it differently? Perhaps the reason was something else entirely. In any case, it took only a single question to the artificial intelligence for the exchange to unfold into an almost endless dialogue. Once, the Internet used to draw people into its nets. Today, another kind of network is having its moment. Be that as it may, our dialogue eventually led to this publication. Even now, I can’t fully explain why—only a vague outline emerges of something that might be called “worth preserving.” Or something along those lines.

I decided not to publish the entire dialogue: it contains many repetitions and, in my view, numerous digressions of little significance. In the text, my questions are marked with the initials “KP,” and the neural network’s replies with the corresponding initials “AI.” I chose the category “Philosophy” for publication, though it doesn’t strike me as an entirely accurate fit; there were no closer genre options available. I have also made some light editorial adjustments: the AI still tends to repeat itself and occasionally falter linguistically, and certain terms were not suitable for publication as they stood. SO,



                AN ABBREVIATED VERSION OF THE DIALOGUES ON BUDDHISM
                (Human – AI)



KP:

Please comment on the following parable:

Once, a disciple asked the Teacher:
“Just as a burst bubble cannot form again, so a person who has died can never be reborn, for nothing remains of him. Where, then, would his nature reside?”

The Teacher replied:
“Bubbles are made of water. When they burst, does the water that formed them cease to exist? A human being arises from our true nature. When we die, why do you say that our nature no longer exists?”

“If you claim such a nature exists, then create it and show it to me,” said the disciple.

The Teacher asked:
“Do you believe that tomorrow will come?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then produce it and show it to me,” the Teacher said.

“Tomorrow will certainly come, but not right now,” the disciple replied.

“Indeed. But the fact that it does not exist right now does not mean it will never exist. If you do not realize your own nature, that does not mean it does not exist. Right now before you is something that wears clothes, takes food, and walks, stands, sits, or reclines—yet you do not know for what purpose it exists. One could rightly call you foolish and deluded. If you insist on drawing distinctions between today and tomorrow, you will not realize your own nature or its fulfillment even after countless ages.”



AI:

Below is an analysis of the parable in a concise and structured form. I rely on the text itself, general knowledge of Buddhist philosophy, and my own analysis. Where appropriate, I note points that are interpretive hypotheses.


1. The logic of the comparison between the bubble and human nature

The Teacher points out that although a bubble disappears, the water remains. This serves as an analogy—a common Buddhist device—to explain the distinction between form and underlying basis.
Form refers to the body and individual personality; the basis is what Buddhism often calls the “nature of mind” or “suchness.”

This is not a proof but a structure of reasoning: the disappearance of a manifestation does not equal the disappearance of its ground.


2. The disciple’s demand to “create and show” this nature

Here the Teacher exposes a categorical error: the disciple demands a demonstration of something that, by definition, is not an object of perception.
It is like demanding that time be shown not by a clock, but as a thing in itself.

The Teacher’s analogy—“If you believe in tomorrow, show it to me”—underscores the point: the absence of a perceptible object in the present moment does not entail nonexistence as a process or principle.

This does not prove the existence of such a nature; it demonstrates the illegitimacy of the criterion “exists = can be presented as an object.”


3. On human nature

In Buddhist terms (offered here as an interpretive hypothesis), “nature” is neither personality nor soul, but a fundamental capacity—the possibility for consciousness to manifest. It neither arises anew nor disappears, though its concrete forms (personality, body) change.

The Teacher rejects the claim that “nothing remains after death,” without asserting an unchanging individual essence. Nature is presented as a fundamental condition for the manifestation of consciousness, not as a self.


4. The phrase about “wearing clothes and taking food”

The Teacher points out that even what is functioning in you right now—perception, movement, awareness—you do not truly understand.
Therefore, demanding a direct demonstration of “nature” is meaningless when even the obvious and immediate is not understood.


5. The central idea (based on this analysis)

The Teacher leads the disciple to see that:
a) it is mistaken to equate the disappearance of form with the disappearance of its basis;
b) the nature of mind cannot be perceived as an object;
c) literal distinctions such as “today/tomorrow” or “exists/does not exist” obscure the processual character of reality;
d) as long as one thinks in terms of fixed entities, one cannot understand what Buddhism calls one’s “own nature.”


6. Philosophical significance

This is a parable about flawed criteria of existence. It asks whether only what can be presented as an object truly exists.
The Teacher shows that many fundamental aspects of reality—processes, conditions, principles—are continuously present yet lack objecthood.

From here, the discussion naturally extends to how we distinguish “being” from “non-being,” and to the errors that arise when we attempt to treat consciousness as a thing.

If necessary, I can continue analyzing the parable—for example, from the perspective of Buddhist epistemology, or by comparing it with European philosophy.



KP:

Not yet. Please expand on two points:

c) the distinctions “today/tomorrow” and “exists/does not exist,” when taken literally, conceal the processual nature of reality;

d) as long as a person thinks in terms of fixed entities, they will be unable to understand what Buddhism calls “one’s own nature.”



AI:

Below is a detailed and systematic expansion. I rely on the parable itself and on basic principles of Buddhist philosophy; anything that goes beyond the text is explicitly marked as a hypothesis.

c) On the distinctions “today/tomorrow” and “exists/does not exist”

(extended commentary)

In the parable, these pairs of oppositions are used to illustrate how the mind constructs rigid boundaries between states that, in reality, form a continuous process.

Grounded in the text: the disciple argues, “it does not exist now --> therefore it does not exist at all.” The Teacher demonstrates the flaw in this reasoning by using the example of “tomorrow.”

The underlying point is this:
When a person speaks of “today” and “tomorrow,” they effectively split time into two independent blocks. In reality, however, there are no two entities called “today” and “tomorrow”; there is a continuous flow of change within which we designate conventional reference points.

The same applies to “exists” and “does not exist.”
When we say, “the nature is not observable now --> therefore it does not exist,” we treat reality as a collection of discrete objects that are either present or absent. Buddhist thought, by contrast, proposes viewing reality as a process, in which manifestation and non-manifestation are different phases of the same underlying dynamic—two sides of a single coin, not separate things.

My hypothesis here is that the Teacher is suggesting the disciple’s mind operates in a categorical rather than a process-oriented mode. Such thinking makes it impossible to understand the nature of consciousness, which is likewise described not as an object, but as a flow or function.


d) On fixed entities and the impossibility of seeing one’s own nature

(extended commentary)

The parable emphasizes that the disciple seeks nature as an object that can be “created and shown.” Buddhism, however, treats the nature of mind not as a thing, but as a condition for the arising of experience.

When a person thinks in terms of fixed entities (“bubble,” “person,” “nature,” “self”), they assume that whatever exists must be either a distinct object or a stable substance.

Again, grounded in the text: the Teacher remarks that the disciple does not even understand what, at this very moment, “wears clothes and takes food.” This is not an insult, but an indication of a perceptual error: attention is fixed on visible forms, while ignoring what makes those forms possible—the process of consciousness itself.

From a Buddhist logical standpoint (hypothesis): as long as the mind looks for a thing, it will not see a function; as long as it seeks a substance, it will not perceive dynamics.

“Own nature,” in this context, is not an object inside a person, but the way experience arises and ceases.

If nature is sought as an object, it cannot be found—because it does not exist as a separate thing.
If nature is understood as a process, it becomes evident, because it manifests in every act of perception.

If necessary, I can further develop both points toward practical application—showing how these cognitive errors appear in ordinary experience and how they may be corrected.



KP:

Go ahead.



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KP:

Then, perhaps, it remains to tell one more parable.

A disciple asked Nagsen:

— What is the Way?

— The Way is everyday life, - Nagsen replied.

— Can it be learned? the disciple asked.

— If you try to learn it, - Nagsen replied, - you will be far from the Way.

— But if I do not learn it, how will I know that this is the Way? - asked the disciple.

— The Way does not belong to the perceptible world. Nor does it belong to the imperceptible one. Knowing is an illusion; not-knowing is nonsense. If you wish to attain the true Way, surrender yourself to the freedom that belongs to Heaven.




AI:

All right. This parable is a concise summary of everything we have discussed—but expressed in an extremely compressed and potentially dangerous form. I will analyze it layer by layer, without romanticization and without mysticism.


1. “The Way is everyday life.”

This statement is often read too weakly.

It does not mean: “do ordinary things and everything will be fine.” It means something else: THE WAY IS NOT ADDED TO LIFE AS A SPECIAL DIMENSION.

That is, the Way is not a separate practice, not a special state, not a higher level placed on top of ordinary existence.

If the Way were something different from everyday life, it would already be an object—and therefore a fixation.

This directly continues the line we have been developing: no final position, no separate foundation, no “later.”


2. “If you try to learn it, you will be far from the Way.”

This is not anti-intellectualism and not a rejection of learning as such. Here, “learning” means treating the Way as an object to be mastered, accumulated, or achieved.

In other words: there is me, there is ignorance, there is a method, and there will be a result.

This is precisely the scheme we identified as a FLAWED MODEL OF ATTAINMENT.

Learning in this sense always postpones the Way into the future, always strengthens fixation, always creates distance.


3. “But if I do not learn it, how will I know that this is the Way?”

This is an honest and logically sound question. And it reveals the trap of binary thinking: either to learn or not to learn; either to know or not to know.

The disciple thinks in terms of something that must guarantee correctness.

And the entire parable is ABOUT THE ABSENCE OF GUARANTEES.


4. “The Way does not belong to the perceptible world… nor to the imperceptible.”

This is the key moment, and it is often misread.

It does not say that the Way is transcendent, mystical, or beyond the world.

It says that the Way cannot be placed into ANY CATEGORY OF EXPERIENCE.

Why? Because the perceptible implies an object; the imperceptible implies a hypothesis. Both are forms of fixation.

THE WAY IS A MODE OF BEING WITHIN EXPERIENCE, NOT THE CONTENT OF EXPERIENCE.


5. “Knowing is an illusion; not-knowing is nonsense.”

This is an exceptionally precise formulation.

Knowing is appropriation: “I have understood,” “I know how things are.”

Not-knowing is withdrawal: “nothing can be known,” “let everything be.”

Their essence lies in extremes.

One is rigid fixation. The other is a refusal of responsibility. We have already discussed this as the boundary between clarity and indifference.

6. “Surrender yourself to the freedom that belongs to Heaven.”

This is the one place where it is easy to slip into metaphor. But read strictly, the meaning is simple.

“The freedom of Heaven” means:

- not choosing a position once and for all,

- not resisting change,

- not clinging to fixations,

- not requiring an ultimate foundation.

Heaven holds nothing, yet allows everything; it does not choose, but lets things be.

This is AN IMAGE OF NON-FUNDAMENTALITY, not of an essence.


7. How this parable closes the entire conversation.

Taken together, the parable says quite literally:

the Way is not in the future and not in results,

- the Way is not in knowledge and not in ignorance,

- the Way is not in form and not in the negation of form,

- the Way is not in rejecting everyday life and not in idolizing it.


THE WAY IS A LIFE THAT DOES NOT DEMAND AN ULTIMATE FOUNDATION.


8. Why this parable is dangerous.

Because it can easily be turned into a justification for passivity, used as a refusal to think, or transformed into a new dogma.

But in a strict reading, it demands greater responsibility, not less:

- you cannot hide behind truth,

- you cannot appeal to a foundation,

- you are responsible for every action, without alibi.



9. FINAL FORMULA (without embellishment).

One could put it this way: the Way is not something that is known. And not something that is renounced.


= = IT IS A LIFE IN WHICH NOTHING IS REQUIRED TO BE FINAL. = =



And with that, the conversation truly closes—not with a full stop, but with the absence of any need to place one

















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And now I will supplement this dialogue with a short story. A friend of mine, A. A., once shared an anecdote as an illustration (and this was not his only example) of the kind of stagnation within “academic circles” that has been—and still is—so characteristic of universities in Russia. The story itself is quite simple. When he was still a student, philosophy in his program was taught by a highly authoritative woman in her field. One day, noticing that the programming students were not paying close attention during her lectures, she remarked: “Tapping on keys, writing code—one could teach that to a monkey. But philosophy—never. A monkey is not a human being. It cannot even come close to philosophy. And you…”

And what is there to say? Some twenty years later, a certain AI ‘monkey’ has appeared… Hmm. And how does that strike you?












Konstantin "BGD" Privalov,
Kakheti, 2025