What Is Genuine Practice and Realization

The initial practice of true-suchness contemplation is the practice of true-suchness samādhi—observing that all dharmas are true suchness. Practicing in this way can only realize a similar-emptiness samādhi state; one may perhaps attain various states of meditative concentration, but one cannot yet realize the genuine wisdom state of emptiness samādhi. To realize the genuine state of emptiness samādhi, one must also, within meditative concentration, carefully investigate the self-nature of true suchness, find where He is, and observe His concrete functions; only then can one realize the genuine samādhi of true suchness.

In studying the Dharma, we must have the wisdom to distinguish similar Dharma from genuine Dharma, and the wisdom to distinguish the difference between intellectually understood Dharma and realized Dharma. Do not take the method of intellectual understanding as the method of realization; do not take the method of cultivating concentration as the method of investigating Chan; do not be satisfied with shallow levels of understanding without putting in the effort to probe the ultimate meaning with a deep mind; and still less should you be content with gaining a little—strive to be a bodhisattva of great resolve. Without the effort of actual practice, one can only play with words, without the merit and benefit of liberation. One who has tasted the flavor of liberation knows how free and at ease liberation of mind is—not to be exchanged for any rare treasure in the world.

As for so-called actual practice, if it does not include the cultivation of meditative concentration—if one does not cultivate concentration—how can what is cultivated be actual? Without meditative concentration, or when concentration is very shallow, there can be wisdom, but such wisdom is only wisdom at the level of understanding; there can be no wisdom of realization. Wisdom at the level of understanding remains merely at the mind consciousness's comprehension of the Dharma—what the Chan school calls emotional thinking and intellectual interpretation, the mind consciousness's guessing and reckoning. As to what the meaning ultimately is and why it is so, one neither knows nor realizes it; one only knows the conclusion, without any process of proof.

Realization, by contrast, is the process of proof, in which the conclusion reached accords with the established answer. That answer was given by the Buddha; the process of proof is each person's process of actual contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā). Without meditative concentration, how can one engage in contemplative practice? How can wisdom arise? Although liberation lies in wisdom and buddhahood lies in wisdom, without meditative concentration, how can genuine wisdom arise? Some practitioners want only the final wisdom and refuse concentration—like someone eating who is interested only in the last pancake and refuses to eat the ones before it. Wisdom without meditative concentration is just like that last pancake: speaking of food does not fill the belly—one lectures loftily on an empty stomach.

Those lacking wisdom often only enjoy others' lofty discourse and grand pronouncements, unable to discern whether there is anything of real substance in their bellies. This easily delays one's progress on the Path, leading one to believe that understanding all dharmas means having realized them, having wisdom, and being able to attain liberation—when in fact one is still very far away.

The process of verifying all dharmas necessarily requires the personal participation of the manas. If the manas is to know the definitive result, it must know the truth of the facts; and if the manas is to know the truth of the facts, it must have evidence. Obtaining this evidence is an arduous process: not only must the mind consciousness laboriously gather evidence broadly and in fine detail, the manas must also give rise to deep questioning doubt, searching for evidence together, proving together, and confirming the evidence gathered by the mind consciousness. This process is by no means easy—it is not something casually accepted like the mind consciousness approving of some dharma at will.

When the manas finds it, it overturns its former knowledge, and thus the manas is touched and shaken, with extraordinary feelings in body and mind. Without this process, do not speak of actual practice and realization. Apart from meditative concentration, this process simply cannot be completed—do not speak of actual practice and realization then either; that is merely lofty talk.

For the results of all dharmas, the Buddha has given answers for nearly all of them—for example, like a dream, like an illusion, like the moon in water, like an image in a mirror, like a mirage, and so on. These are all answers given by the Buddha. What is so remarkable about knowing the answers? It is the process of proof that reveals each person's genuine wisdom. The wisdom of understanding that cannot answer even three questions—one slightly clever person can obtain it; there is nothing remarkable about it.

Those unenlightened worldlings, because of their cleverness, strong comprehension, broad knowledge, and excellent writing and eloquence, can spend some time and write tens of thousands of words of discourse on how all dharmas are like dreams and illusions. But in such discourses, where are the traces of contemplative practice? Where are the traces of realization? Where is the process of proof? Yet some people are fond of precisely such things, reciting them day and night—even if they are learned enough to fill five carts with books, what use is it?