How Can One Awaken to the Thoughts of One's Own Mind

If one wishes to understand oneself and discern whether one's thoughts are wholesome or unwholesome, defiled or pure, how should one proceed? Why do many people continuously follow their defiled mental activities and afflictive mental tendencies, engaging in defiled karmic actions? It is due to a lack of awakening, an absence of awareness. They neither know nor consider the consequences of each mental tendency or thought—what results they will bring and what karmic retribution they entail. They merely seek to vent their emotions, feeling satisfied once their mind is momentarily comfortable. As for the potential for extreme discomfort and suffering in the future, they cannot be bothered. This is the ignorance, delusion, and shortsightedness of sentient beings.

How can one awaken to one's own mental tendencies and thoughts? First, one must accept the law of cause and effect. Then, one must comprehend causality, knowing that all bodily, verbal, and mental actions bear karmic consequences. When conditions ripen, one will inevitably experience the corresponding wholesome or unwholesome results. Everything one does to others or in situations will ultimately be borne by oneself. Performing wholesome deeds yields wholesome retribution; committing unwholesome deeds yields unwholesome retribution. This is the inescapable law of karma. With this understanding, one will intentionally pay attention to one's bodily, verbal, and mental actions. However, due to insufficient power of concentration (samādhi) and wisdom (prajñā), one may still habitually engage in unwholesome bodily, verbal, and mental actions without conscious awareness.

This necessitates cultivating concentration to strengthen the power of samādhi, enhancing introspective ability. One must refine the mind, making observation more acute, enabling the constant capture of one's thoughts and the ability to perceive the deepest intentions, ideas, or afflictive thoughts within the mind. In this way, one achieves profound self-understanding. Even if one cannot quickly correct unwholesome thoughts or subdue afflictions, merely knowing them will, over time, gradually and subtly transform oneself. One may even be surprised by the changes within.

One can increase the power of samādhi and prajñā, enhancing one's awareness, through the practice of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness (Satipaṭṭhāna), which equally balances concentration and wisdom. Then, in daily interactions and activities, one should introspectively observe one's thoughts, examining the true intentions deep within the mind. Ask oneself: What benefit does this action bring to others and to myself? What consequences will it have? Will this result lead to liberation or bondage for me? Is this an outcome I am willing to bear in the future, and can I endure it?

Observing one's mind and practicing the Four Foundations of Mindfulness follow the same principle. The Four Foundations begin with concentration and culminate in wisdom; the goal is wisdom. Only when wisdom arises can one realize the fruit of enlightenment and attain liberation. Observing one's thoughts is similar. What is the result of this observation? The result is the arising of wisdom that understands oneself and comprehends consequences. With this wisdom, one can inevitably subdue and eradicate afflictions, enjoying the blissful fruits of wholesome karma in the future. The arising of thoughts determines a person's fortune or misfortune. Unwholesome, harmful thoughts attract misfortune and diminish blessings, while wholesome thoughts generate blessings and avert calamities. Many people encounter various favorable and adverse circumstances without understanding their causes. Those with coarse minds do not even consider why, assuming adversities arise naturally, unaware that they are drawn by their own karmic actions. Due to one's own unwholesomeness leading to unskillful karma, blessings cannot endure, and misfortunes cannot be avoided. Thus, one drifts amidst the turbulent waves of suffering in the ocean of life, rising and falling with each changing circumstance.

If one does not observe the mind, wisdom cannot arise. When consciousness does not engage in observing thoughts, it presents the dharmas (phenomena) directly to the mental faculty (manas), allowing manas to face them as they are. Once faced, manas will attend to and focus on the dharmas, engaging in contemplation. After proper contemplation, a result emerges. If consciousness does not observe and the mind is scattered, manas will not abide on the observed dharmas, failing to know or realize them. Even if consciousness observes without concentration—being scattered—manas will likewise remain scattered and grasping, unable to gather on the observed dharmas, incapable of observing and contemplating the dharmas as they truly are. Thus, it neither knows nor realizes the dharmas. This is why the ancient Chan masters and disciples during the Buddha's time, though they did not understand the dharmas related to manas, could still realize the mind and attain fruition. It was because they all possessed profound samādhi.

If one does not observe the mind, the sixth and seventh consciousnesses (mano-vijñāna and manas) will not apply attention (manasikāra) to these dharmas. Consequently, the subsequent mental factors (caittas) of contact (sparśa), feeling (vedanā), perception (saṃjñā), and volition (cetanā) will not operate, nor will the mental factors of concentration (samādhi) and wisdom (prajñā) arise. Naturally, one remains ignorant. Without observing the mind, one drifts along with thoughts—"I am the thought; the thought is me"—trapped within, unable to extricate oneself. The word "knowing" is crucial. Thoughts are like thieves. When thieves enter the house, one must know, must be aware, and watch them. The thief, knowing they are discovered, becomes embarrassed to steal and slinks away.

Therefore, when a circumstance arises, one must know. When a thought appears, one must know. Do not follow the circumstance; do not let the thought continue to flow. Thus, maintain right awareness. Previously, without knowing, one was as foolish as a dog chasing a thrown clod—running after stones thrown by people, barking wildly at sounds, unaware it was merely the wind rustling grass. Humans are no different from deluded dogs. All day, they take circumstances as real, giving rise to thoughts, distinctions of self and others, superiority and inferiority. Fighting over a mouthful of food, they batter each other until heads are broken and blood flows. Sentient beings are both pitiable and lamentable. To change oneself, one must diligently practice the work of observing the mind.