What Is Actual Practice and Actual Realization?

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

In studying the Dharma, we must have the wisdom to distinguish similar teachings from the true teaching, and the wisdom to distinguish the difference between understanding through intellectual comprehension and realization through realization. Do not take the method of intellectual comprehension 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 deeply investigate the ultimate meaning with a sincere mind; and even more, do not be content with gaining a little—strive to be a bodhisattva of great resolve. Without the skill of actual practice, one can only play with words, without the merit and benefit of liberation. Those who have tasted the flavor of liberation know how free and at ease a liberated mind is—nothing in the world, however rare and precious, would be exchanged for it.

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 intellectual understanding; there cannot be wisdom of actual realization. Wisdom at the level of understanding only remains at the mind consciousness's intellectual grasp of the Dharma; the Chan school calls this "emotional thinking and intellectual interpretation," the mind consciousness's conjecturing. As to what the ultimate meaning actually is, and why it is so—one does not know and does not realize it; one only knows the conclusion, without the process of proof.

Actual realization, by contrast, is the process of proof, and the conclusion reached accords with the established answer. This 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 becoming a Buddha lies in wisdom, without meditative concentration, how can true wisdom arise? Some practitioners want only the final wisdom and refuse concentration—like someone eating who is interested only in the last pancake and does not want to eat the ones before it. Wisdom without meditative concentration is just like that last pancake: talking about food does not fill the belly—one discourses loftily on an empty stomach.

People with insufficient wisdom often only enjoy others' lofty discourses and grand pronouncements, unable to discern whether there is anything of real substance in their bellies. In this way one easily delays one's own progress on the Path, thinking that understanding all the dharmas means having realized them, having wisdom, and being able to attain liberation—when in fact one is still very far from it.

The process of verifying all dharmas necessarily requires the personal participation of the manas. If the manas wants to know the definitive result, it must know the truth of the facts; and if the manas wants 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 collect evidence broadly and in fine detail, the manas must also give rise to deep questioning doubt, searching for evidence together and proving it together, and must also confirm the evidence collected by the mind consciousness. This process is by no means easy—it is not something casually accepted like the mind consciousness does, approving of some dharma at will.

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

For the results of all dharmas, the Buddha has almost all given the answers—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—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 true wisdom. The wisdom of understanding that cannot answer when questioned—anyone slightly clever can obtain it; there is nothing remarkable about it.

Those unenlightened ordinary beings, 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 these discourses, where are the traces of contemplative practice? Where are the traces of actual realization? Where is the process of proof? Yet some people happen to love such things, reciting them day and night—even if one is learned enough to fill five carts of books, what use is it?