Eighty-two People's Cultivation Experience

First, let me talk about my feeling regarding realization. Realization is when, while concentrating on one thing, suddenly there is a shock in the mind, and a conclusion is obtained; body and mind will feel a moment of emptiness, and in that instant, one's view of the world will also be different. But this conclusion is not yet complete—neither detailed nor whole—and the mind cannot yet be fully certain. One needs to strike while the iron is hot, going deeper step by step, repeatedly engaging in contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) many times, and even persisting for a long time before one can gradually contemplate the whole picture, thereby consolidating the conclusion until there is no doubt at all. This process involves diligence and meditative concentration (samādhi); if perseverance or effort falls even slightly short, the contemplation cannot be completed in full. Most of the time there will also be regressions, and being able to persist depends on one's aspiration.

Generally speaking, if there are many objects of contemplation but insufficient power of concentration, none of the contemplations can be completed. As the saying goes, "one bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." One should try to complete the entire process of a single contemplation in order to gradually master the method, and only then contemplate the next item—there is no rushing in between.

In daily life, one should strengthen the power of concentration, constantly introspecting. Whether eating, walking, or working, one should practice gathering the mind onto one point. Over time, one will become disinclined to talk, and will increasingly feel that one falls far short of others. Having no actual cultivation achievements, one is unwilling to engage in empty talk about dharma principles with others. One will feel rather averse to those who pontificate, speak empty words without meaning, and can only parrot the Buddha's words and preach grand principles without being able to speak from their own practical cultivation experience, feeling that they mislead others and themselves.

After introspecting for a long time and comparing it against oneself, one will understand others' thoughts and psychological changes more clearly than before. Seeing others' faults becomes like seeing one's own faults; the mind often feels guilt, and resentment toward others transforms into dissatisfaction with one's own habitual tendencies. Yet getting along with others becomes better than before, and one will no longer speak without considering the other person's feelings. It is just that the intense inclination one used to have—constantly pondering whether this person treats one well or badly—is no longer there.

If one applies effort every day, one's interest in worldly matters becomes much less than before. Apart from matters with deeply entrenched habitual tendencies, one does not want to do most things; even if one occasionally does them, interest is quickly lost, and they are discarded without hesitation. Instead, observing the mind's reactions to the world is what one often does. But most introspection reveals shameful habitual tendencies; the more one looks, the clearer it becomes, and one feels that changing one's habitual tendencies is truly a long-term, weighty task.

Assessment: Your experience is quite good—truly genuine insights and experience from actual practice. The feeling and experience of realization you described at the beginning should not yet be the final realization; it should be the process prior to realization. During the process, quite a few such phenomena will also occur—that is called a meditative absorption (samādhi) state, with both concentration and wisdom, at varying levels of coarseness and subtlety. The final realization has an even stronger samādhi state of the equal cultivation of Samādhi and Prajñā; this is true samādhi, with more intense experiences of body and mind, lasting longer, with firmer concentration that is not easily dispersed. Walking, standing, sitting, and lying down are all within samādhi; afflictions become so light that they cannot even be detected. There are also some phenomena of body and mind that are inconvenient to say too much about, lest someone, upon learning of them, falsely claim to have these phenomena themselves, thereby hinting that they are enlightened.

Contemplative practice should indeed focus on only one question, one questioning doubt. With two or more, it becomes chaotic, and one will engage in random thoughts—that is no longer contemplative practice. When truly applying effort and truly practicing contemplation, the whole person will change, becoming different from before. Familiar people will find you dull and inarticulate, dry and uninteresting, unfeeling, insensitive. But a true practitioner is no longer an ordinary worldling; having left behind the class of worldly ordinary people, both inwardly and outwardly there are varying degrees of change, gradually being reborn and transformed. Others can no longer understand you and will develop many misunderstandings. A practitioner is naturally not on the same path as others—just ignore all this.

When cultivation reaches a certain level, both concentration and wisdom are strengthened; one no longer likes to pontificate and show off. The mind becomes very refined, and one will unconsciously observe the people and affairs around oneself in minute detail—at a glance one knows a person's state of mind and thoughts, and can see through the truth of matters. Observing oneself also becomes very detailed; one's own thoughts, afflictions, and habitual tendencies are easily observed. Moreover, interest in the various worldly dharmas gradually fades; for some things, one can discard them the moment one says so, without hesitation, because one has seen through them. Those who have not seen through them, of course, continue to chase after, hold onto, and treasure them. In short, in the process of true cultivation, one will constantly change; every aspect will transform, becoming greatly different from before.