Step One: Take a deep breath, calm the mind, and continue calming it until stray thoughts gradually diminish to nothing.
Step Two: Fix the eye consciousness on this idiom, let the consciousness apprehend its general meaning without engaging in analytical thinking. Let thoughts remain still, entering a state of daze, stupor, or vacant staring. This process is equivalent to transmitting the information of the idiom into the manas (root mind). It is like a bag that is already full but needs to hold more; you press down the contents inside the bag, pause for a moment, to make space for the remaining items. Pressing and pausing is like moving things from the mouth of the bag to the bottom; the more you move down, the more space is freed up. The mouth of the bag corresponds to consciousness, while the bottom corresponds to the manas.
Step Three: After the information is fully transmitted to the manas, the manas begins to process it. At this point, maintain and prolong the state of vacant staring, daze, and stupor. Keep the consciousness thought-still; it’s even beneficial to close the eyes to nourish the spirit.
Closing the eyes means the eye consciousness ceases to see forms; what is being nourished is, of course, this spiritual consciousness, the manas. If the manas feels it should rest and decides to close the eyes to avoid seeing forms, the two consciousnesses (eye consciousness and mental consciousness) obey this decision and close the eyes. If the manas wants to see forms, the two consciousnesses absolutely cannot close the eyes. If the mental consciousness says, "This form is really good, let’s look a little longer," and the manas says, "Alright, look a little longer," then the two consciousnesses see forms and do not close the eyes. In all matters, the manas is the master and decision-maker. Although sometimes the mental consciousness makes suggestions, the manas must still agree to the suggestion before making the master decision. When the two consciousnesses close the eyes and cease activity, the manas no longer needs to expend energy paying attention to seeing forms, thus saving mental effort, which can then be used to ponder other important matters.
Once the mental consciousness settles down and all information is transmitted to the manas, the manas begins its pondering. This is silent, without movement or stillness, so still that the consciousness finds it very difficult to detect or sense its existence and operation. Therefore, ordinary people generally say the manas is foolish and useless, having no substantial function. In reality, the most essential functions of the five aggregates are all performed by the manas; the manas plays the pivotal role.
Step Four: The manas first ponders the character "患" (huàn: trouble/worry). The mental consciousness should not analyze it; its task is not to interfere or cause trouble, not to distract the manas, and not to let the manas depart from its pondering of the idiom. Keeping the manas focused on the object it should be pondering is the mental consciousness's task. If this is not done well, it may affect the outcome of the manas's pondering. If the manas is already skilled at pondering, then the mental consciousness need not urge it. The mental consciousness must not be eager for results and try to participate; it absolutely must not engage in thinking function. Otherwise, the manas will produce no wisdom, and the results generated by the mental consciousness's thinking do not represent true wisdom and are unusable.
In the beginning, perhaps the mental consciousness won't know how to urge and prompt, and the manas won't know how to ponder. Both need to study diligently. Once past this stage, one can smoothly proceed to cultivate insight (vipassanā). After the manas has pondered for some time, it understands that "患" can mean having troubles, worrying, fearing, or calculating. Which meaning it is depends on the subsequent characters. It then ponders the character "得" (dé: gain/obtain). Because "得" has many meanings, it links "得" and "失" (shī: loss) together to ponder, thus determining the meanings of gain and loss. It then ponders what is gained and what is lost, realizing it refers to the calculating and clinging towards the impermanent, empty, and illusory phenomena of the worldly dharmas of the five aggregates – wealth, sensual pleasures, fame, food, sleep, family and relatives, power, status, and other such human concerns. Finally, pondering the four characters together, it realizes that "患得" (huàndé) is the worry about not obtaining, and "患失" (huànshī) is the worry about losing what has been obtained. This is intense calculation and clinging, seeing nothing clearly and letting nothing go – entirely the work of self-view and self-attachment. This is the psychological state of a sentient being bound by birth and death; truly pitiable.
What to ponder finally? That depends on the wisdom and views of each individual's manas. The manas should review the gains and losses of an entire lifetime, wisely pondering that both gain and loss are unobtainable – one gains nothing and loses nothing; it's just foolish fussing over nothing. Of course, the manas of most people will not reach this stage of pondering; it's sufficient to slowly practice pondering.
Due to insufficient wisdom, lack of familiarity with the method, and inadequate meditative concentration (samādhi), initial practice of pondering may be very slow and not necessarily correct. But that's alright; proficiency will surely come one day. Once the manas learns to ponder and observe according to principle, that wisdom will gush forth unstoppably.
Looking back now, those who previously emphasized intellectual learning through the mental consciousness, widely studying voluminous Yogācāra treatises and spending all their time on them – haven't they suffered a loss? After decades of using the mental consciousness to gnaw on Yogācāra texts, what results have they produced? Shouldn't they now turn back to make up the basics and start step-by-step practical cultivation? However, some people, because they are accustomed to intellectual learning, find that during actual practice, their mental consciousness refuses to be quiet and steady. This creates very significant obstacles to practice; samādhi becomes extremely difficult to develop, and insight practice becomes out of the question. The gap in accomplishment between those strong in theory and those who emphasize practical cultivation, integrating theory with practice, is vast. The latter attain samādhi within a few years, reaching the first or second fruit [of Stream-enterer or Once-returner], able to realize the emptiness nature of the Tathāgatagarbha anytime, anywhere. Meanwhile, the former not only lack thorough theoretical understanding but also have not even glimpsed samādhi.
This comparison should make it clear: if theory is not combined with practice, empty talk often harms the nation (or the path). If theory is not grounded in actuality, realization becomes exceedingly difficult. What is the place of actuality? Actuality is the place of the manas; it is the place seen by the eye, the place where one contacts the true reality of facts. Consciousness, however, is the place of emptiness; it is the place heard by the ear, the place that cannot contact the true reality of facts.
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