However Correct Anumāna May Be, It Is Not the Experiential Realization of Pratyakṣa

Those who lack sufficient meditative concentration (dhyāna) and wisdom employ inference and analytical investigation in their practice. Individuals with strong concentration prefer deep inquiry, persisting relentlessly until they attain realization. Those with great wisdom directly perceive reality through immediate experience (pratyakṣa). Especially the Buddha, the World-Honored One, who possesses All-Knowing Wisdom (sarvajñā-jñāna), knows all phenomena directly through pratyakṣa, without the need for comparison, imagination, or conjecture. His speech expresses certainty, without hesitation. Only those who do not cultivate meditative concentration, lack the wisdom of contemplative insight, or are incapable of deep inquiry resort to inferential reasoning, believing this method can lead to realization of the Dharma. In reality, this is not true realization; it is akin to speculation.

No matter how correct inference may be, no matter how sound the reasoning, it is not pratyakṣa; it is not direct experiential realization. Direct realization is perceived immediately in the present moment. Although not seen with the eyes, the seeing of consciousness is also an immediate seeing in the present moment, requiring no reasoning or comparison. This is the meaning of pratyakṣa.

Those with sharp intellect can engage in logical thinking and reasoning, but this cannot replace direct realization. The suffering, emptiness, impermanence, and non-self of the five aggregates (skandhas) and the eighteen elements (dhātus) must be directly perceived in the present moment; they cannot be known through comparison or reasoning. The reaction of comparison and reasoning is a step slower, relying on the forceful instillation and constraint of consciousness to compel acceptance. Once the function of consciousness weakens, or consciousness ceases, the constraining effect vanishes, and one can no longer know that the five aggregates and eighteen elements are suffering, empty, impermanent, and without self. Consequently, there is no liberation, no merit to be experienced, the intermediate state (antarābhava) cannot be utilized, and future lives will lack the benefit of this merit.

Similarly, in the Mahāyāna path, the functioning of the Tathāgatagarbha (Buddha-nature) must be observable directly in the present moment; it cannot be known through comparison or logical reasoning. To know it is to know it directly; one cannot use the conscious mind to consider and analyze it, as this is not pratyakṣa. Only the Dharma known directly in the present moment constitutes direct realization. Only then can it be effective, evoke a response, bring benefit, and yield the merit of liberation. When the Dharma is known in the present moment, the manas (root mind, the seventh consciousness) necessarily knows it, without needing prompting from the conscious mind (manovijñāna, the sixth consciousness). It is only when manas does not know that the conscious mind resorts to logical reasoning, analytical comparison, and speculation.

The direct realization by manas is akin to intuitive experience. Without meditative concentration, there is no intuitive experience, although even in moments of fright, there is a brief concentration. The Seven Factors of Enlightenment (sapta bodhyanga) are the essential path to realizing the Dharma. Among them, the factors of Joy (prīti), Tranquility (praśrabdhi), and Concentration (samādhi) gradually arise during actual practice; all are related to meditative concentration and represent progressive stages of dhyāna. Without this process, one cannot speak of direct realization. One must have faith in what the Buddha taught; trust that the Buddha's words are true. Discriminative thinking by the conscious mind can lead to the intuitive experience of manas, and this merit is also significant. In the process of practice, neither faculty of knowing can be neglected; both are crucial.

However, if the function of the conscious mind becomes excessively strong, it can overshadow and obstruct the deliberative nature of manas. In this case, intellectual understanding becomes easy, but direct realization becomes extremely difficult. Therefore, past Patriarchs of the Chan (Zen) tradition opposed excessive activity of the conscious mind and also opposed sitting rigidly in meditation without engaging in contemplative insight and thought. Achieving the right balance in the function of consciousness is difficult. It's like two people doing a fixed job: if one does more, the other does less; the principle is the same. If the conscious mind is strong, one can rely on it while alive. But once the activity of consciousness weakens, or consciousness ceases, manas has nothing to rely on, and one must rely entirely on manas. Consider: at the time of death and in future lives, if manas has not become strong, what would it be like? The purpose and result of a strong conscious mind should be to make manas strong. If manas is not strong, what will happen in the future? If manas is weak, we are weak. Once manas becomes very strong, it can function without relying on the conscious mind, for example, through the mutual use and interconnection of the six sense faculties.