Miscellaneous Discussions on Buddhism (Part One)
Is Buddhist Practice and Cultivation a Matter of Technique, or a Matter of the Mind's Nature?
What is called technical practice in the Buddha-dharma means studying theoretical knowledge and realizing theoretical knowledge; being diligent in technique means sitting in meditation to cultivate concentration, diligently delving into theoretical knowledge, earnestly investigating, researching, and contemplating, in the hope of realizing or attaining some dharma, obtaining some fruit, qualification, or reputation, and achieving a certain result.
What is called cultivation of the mind's nature refers to observing the selflessness of the five aggregates (pañca-skandha), subduing the self, subduing afflictions, making the mind gentle and wholesome, possessing the selfless disposition of sages, removing selfishness and the mind of self, subduing the afflictive habits of ordinary beings, and thereby being able to benefit oneself and being willing to benefit others. Concretely, this means the earnest practice of the bodhisattva's six perfections, gradually perfecting the accumulation of merit and the upholding of precepts, being patient with all people and affairs in order to subdue one's own mind, replacing laziness and laxity, cultivating meditative concentration to enhance the mind's power of contemplative observation, subduing afflictions, and steeping oneself in the principle of the emptiness (śūnyatā) of prajñā, so that the mind gradually draws near to emptiness and draws near to the sages.
Cultivation of the mind's nature and technical cultivation should complement each other: the mind's nature is the eyes, technique is the feet, and the eyes determine the direction and height of the technique. Buddhist practice should combine the cultivation of the mind's nature with technical cultivation; one cannot cultivate only one side while ignoring the other. Only by walking on two legs can one remain balanced and steady.
What is called one-sided technical cultivation means engaging only in theoretical study without subduing one's self-nature, so that theory and practice become disconnected. The Buddha-dharma is originally meant to help sentient beings subdue the self, realize selflessness, and attain liberation and ease. Yet the purpose and result of sentient beings' practice of selflessness is instead the growth of self-nature and self-grasping; the self becomes increasingly inflated, the mind's nature becomes worse than before, and the gap from the proper results of practice is enormous. This is the result of not cultivating the mind's nature and only cultivating technique.
Cultivating only on the technical level and not on the level of the mind's nature results in virtue not matching one's position, and great disorder follows. Treating the practice of the Buddha-dharma as a form of capital, once one has mastered the techniques of the Buddha-dharma, one considers oneself superior to everyone and stronger than everyone, believing one can be a person above others, can take pride in this technique, grow in arrogance of self, and use it as capital to overpower everyone else. This is precisely the severe marks of self, person, and sentient beings; this is the result of cultivating only on the technical level—a pitiable evil fruit that runs contrary to the Buddha-dharma. In severe cases, such people can use their arrogance and self-grasping to disrupt the Buddha-dharma and Buddhism, and to undermine sentient beings' faith in the Buddha-dharma and Buddhism.
The method of practice can never be a one-sided technical job of only doing theoretical research; what is more important is the cultivation and transformation of the mind's nature. If Buddhist practice were merely technical effort, the Buddha would not have sentient beings make pure great vows, using the power of vows to draw and guide their practice; if Buddhist practice were merely technical effort, why is it that some people bury themselves day and night in studying the sūtras and various theories, diligent in various contemplative practices (vipaśyanā-caryā), able to explore theories unknown to ordinary people, seemingly gaining something from their studies, yet their greed, anger, and delusion still blaze fiercely, and perhaps their whole life they remain stuck at the seventh, sixth, or fifth stage of abiding—despite having studied an enormous amount of Yogācāra theory, they still cannot take a step forward.
If Buddhist practice were merely technical effort, why is it that some people sit in meditation day and night for thirty or fifty years yet still cannot attain the first dhyāna, while for others the first dhyāna manifests within one or two years; some people have been enlightened for thirty years and still have not seen the shadow of the first dhyāna. Yet some people, not long after taking up Buddhism, upon encountering theory and doing just a little contemplative practice, can realize various fruits—even though many of the technical terms of the Buddha-dharma are not yet clear to them, the wisdom of contemplative practice has already arisen.
If Buddhist practice is a matter of technical effort, then the bodhisattva's six perfections—are they technical cultivation or cultivation of the mind's nature? The perfection of generosity (dāna)—does it belong to the technical level or the level of the mind's nature? Does upholding precepts belong to the technical level or the level of the mind's nature? Is patience a matter of technique or of the mind's nature? Is meditative concentration a matter of technique or of the mind's nature?
As for wisdom—what kind of wisdom does a person with a poor mind's nature have? Does such wisdom correspond to that of bodhisattvas and the Buddha? As for diligence—there is right diligence and wrong diligence; wrong diligence belongs to the technical level, while right diligence is the cultivation of the mind's nature. Can people with ulterior motives obtain genuine benefit from the Buddha-dharma? The hallmark of a bodhisattva's true accomplishment is loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity; if the mind's nature has not transformed, there will never be the mental conduct of loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity, and the bodhisattva's fruits can never be fulfilled.
Between the arhat and the bodhisattva, whose mind's nature is better? Whose path of practice advances more? Whom does the Buddha favor most? Who becomes a Buddha first? Whose practice is on the technical level, and whose is on the level of the mind's nature? As for those who engage in technical work—has not the Buddha scolded them as scorched sprouts and rotten seeds, fallen into the pit of inactivity?
The final result of Buddhist practice must surely be possessing both virtue and talent—having talent, but even more having virtue; without virtue, talent is merely crooked talent, which may be used on deviant paths, committing evil karma without even knowing it. There are many talented people in the world, but not all of them necessarily use their talent to create wholesome karma; there are also many who use it to create unwholesome karma. If it is used to commit evil karma, it would be better to have no talent at all.
For practitioners of Buddhism, virtue must occupy first place and be placed at the very front; with virtue, one need not worry about lacking talent. If a person has only talent and no virtue, no matter how great the talent, it has no proper use. But a person with virtue and no talent can be cultivated into one with both virtue and talent; with their bodhisattva disposition, through the Buddha's blessing they swiftly attain the Way. Therefore, Buddhist practice is not merely a technical job; the most essential thing is the cultivation of the mind's nature. Only a person who is selfless and without self is a true bodhisattva; if within one's heart there is only oneself, only one's personal self-interest, and one is single-mindedly devoted to oneself, such a person is not a true bodhisattva.
Technical cultivation is always many times easier than the cultivation of the mind's nature. With technique, as long as one puts effort into delving and researching, one can certainly work something out from the texts and gain some harvest; add cleverness and quickness of mind, and quite a few techniques can be acquired. But what about the mind's nature? Even a hundred years may not suffice to subdue it—innate disposition is hard to change. A bodhisattva who has acquired technique but has not subdued the mind's nature is still not a true bodhisattva, merely a nominal, fake bodhisattva, an impostor of a bodhisattva, forever unable to fulfill the role of a bodhisattva.
Many people painstakingly engage day and night in contemplative practice, research, and study, yet never examine their own minds. No matter how assiduously they delve into the scientific technology of the Buddha-dharma, they cannot subdue their self-nature and selfishness, cannot truly eradicate the view of self (satkāya-dṛṣṭi), and cannot genuinely see the mind and attain realization. Such people are not bodhisattvas, even though they have mastered the scientific technology of the Buddha-dharma!
In this present age, how many people who study Buddhism are merely doing technical work, never putting effort into their own mind's nature. They have produced the technique, but their virtue does not match their position; wherever they go, they inflate and flaunt the self, and in the end, wherever they go, disorder follows. Studying Buddhism becomes about standing out, about flaunting the self—never about subduing the self, never about nonaction, never about selflessness and liberating the mind from afflictions. The more they learn, the more high-profile they become; the more they learn, the heavier the self grows; the more they learn, the more chaotic the world becomes, until in the end the whole world is thrown into disorder. Many people study Buddhism just to rise above others and stand on other people's shoulders; they have never thought of extinguishing the self, of making the self vanish without a trace. Is this eradicating the view of self, or increasing the view of self? If Buddhism develops this way, in the end there will be great chaos in the world.
If you wish to truly cultivate yourself into a genuine practitioner, you must grasp with both hands: you must put effort into the ground of the mind, making yourself gentle and pliant, and also put effort into contemplative practice and investigation, striving for genuine realization, becoming a sage in the true sense.
