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

Those who lack sufficient meditative concentration (dhyāna) and wisdom resort to inferential reasoning and analytical study in their practice. Those with strong concentration prefer to investigate and contemplate, persisting until the very end. Those with great wisdom attain realization entirely through direct perception. Especially the Buddha, the World-Honored One, who possesses the wisdom of all modes (sarvajñā), knows all phenomena through direct perception, without the need for comparison, analogy, 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 investigation resort to inferential reasoning, believing this method can lead to the realization of the Dharma. In reality, this is not realization; it resembles guessing.

No matter how correct inferential reasoning may be, no matter how accurate the logic, it is still not direct perception; it is not experiential realization. Experiential realization is immediately perceived—though not seen with the eyes, the "seeing" of consciousness is immediate apprehension, requiring no reasoning or comparison. This is the meaning of direct perception.

Those with sharp consciousness can engage in logical thinking and reasoning, but this cannot substitute for experiential realization. The suffering, emptiness, impermanence, and non-self of the five aggregates and eighteen elements must be directly perceived in the present moment. They cannot be compared or reasoned about; comparison and reasoning are a step slower, relying on the forceful instillation and constraining function of consciousness to compel acceptance. Once the function of consciousness weakens or consciousness ceases, the constraining effect disappears. Then, one cannot know that the five aggregates and eighteen elements are suffering, empty, impermanent, and without self. Consequently, there is no benefit or experiential fruition of liberation, the intermediate state (bardo) body cannot draw strength, and future lives will lack meritorious benefits and experiential fruition.

Similarly, in the Mahayana Dharma, the functioning of the Tathāgatagarbha (Buddha-nature) must be observable in the present moment. It cannot be compared or logically reasoned about. To know it is to know it directly; one cannot rely on present conscious consideration or analysis, as this is not direct perception. Only the Dharma that is known immediately in the present moment constitutes experiential realization. Only then can it be effective, elicit a response, bring benefit, and yield the meritorious benefits and experiential fruition of liberation. For a Dharma known in the present moment, manas (the underlying mind) necessarily knows it without needing prompting from consciousness. Only when manas does not know does one resort to conscious logical reasoning, analytical comparison, and conjecture.

The experiential realization of manas is akin to intuitive experience. Without meditative concentration, there is no intuitive experience. Even during moments of fright, there is brief concentration. The seven factors of enlightenment are the essential path to the experiential realization of the Dharma. Among them, the factors of joy, tranquility, and concentration gradually arise during actual practice, all related to meditative concentration and constituting sequential stages of concentration. Without this process, do not speak of experiential realization. One must believe what the Buddha said; trust in the Buddha's words is not mistaken. Moreover, the discriminative thinking of consciousness can lead to the intuitive experience of manas, which also holds great merit. In the practice process, neither faculty of knowing can be neglected; both are crucial.

However, if the function of consciousness becomes overly strong, it can overshadow and obstruct the deliberative nature of manas. In this case, intellectual understanding becomes easy, but experiential realization becomes extremely difficult. Therefore, past Chan (Zen) patriarchs opposed excessive activity of consciousness and also opposed sitting rigidly in concentration without engaging in contemplative thinking. Achieving the right balance for the function of consciousness is very difficult. It's like two people sharing a fixed task: if one does more, the other does less—the principle is the same. If consciousness is overly strong, one can rely on it while alive. But once the activity of consciousness weakens or consciousness ceases, manas has nothing to rely upon, and one must depend entirely on manas. Consider this: at the time of death and in future lives, if manas has not grown strong, what will it be like? The purpose and result of strengthening consciousness 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 consciousness, as in the mutual use and interconnection of the six sense faculties.