Leaving home is the best way to isolate oneself from worldly dharmas

The Buddha said in the sutras that even if a monastic sleeps all day long in the mountains, it is still better than wallowing in worldly dharmas. Why? Although sleeping is not practice, one is also not being conditioned by other worldly dharmas, so gradually the mind's grasping at worldly dharmas diminishes, and finally one no longer thinks of worldly dharmas. At that point, if one reduces sleep, progress on the Path will be swift.

This principle is the same as the situation of being reborn in the land of bliss (Sukhāvatī) and dwelling inside a lotus palace. Inside the lotus, because one is isolated from the environment of worldly dharmas, there is no opportunity for conditioning, so the mind's grasping gradually ceases, unwholesome thoughts gradually decrease, and the seeds of unwholesome karma gradually wither. Once the mind-ground is purified, the lotus opens, one sees the Buddha and hears the Dharma, and can awaken to the Way.

This is the most clumsy method, but it is still better than unwholesome conditioning by worldly dharmas.

Therefore, no matter what kind of person one is, the Buddha will accept him into the monastic order. Even if he does not practice diligently after going forth, he can still reduce unwholesome conditioning. After the Buddha attained the Way, He urged everyone in His own family who could go forth to do so—regardless of whether they were married—leaving only His father Śuddhodana and one person who would inherit the throne. As for His cousin Ānanda, the Buddha used extraordinary means, deceiving him into going forth. Because Ānanda was deeply attached to his wife, it would have been impossible to persuade him to go forth through normal channels, so the Buddha forcibly took him to the monastery and did not allow him to return home—his wife did not even know. Finally, the Buddha took him on a journey to the heavenly palace and to hell, and only then did Ānanda settle his mind on cultivating the Way. He did not return to lay life, and in the end he realized the fourth fruit, becoming an arhat. This shows how important going forth is—that the Buddha used all kinds of methods to urge people to go forth, laboriously established the Saṅgha, and abided in the Sahā world in order to guide sentient beings with affinities into the gate of Buddhism.

In the Buddha's time, if someone with a wife and children wished to go forth, he did not need to divorce, nor did he need to consult his wife and children; he simply gave his wife and children away to others, arranged for their future livelihood, and then went forth to cultivate the Way. Even if his wife and children did not live well in their new family, he would not return to lay life to care for them again—his resolve for the Path was extremely firm.

If someone wants to go forth but cannot, then there is no need to look for any excuse—there is no excuse to be found. One should instead examine one's own mind: greed makes it hard to relinquish the worldly. This is the one and only reason; there is no other.

We often hear people complain about how monastics do not practice, how they are not in accord with the Dharma. But those who are in accord with the Dharma do not want to go forth, and those who cultivate do not want to go forth. If this portion of non-practicing people also did not go forth, would the Saṅgha not be empty? Where do monastics come from? They come from worldly dharmas. If all those outstanding people were not attached to worldly life and all came forth, then all monastics would be in accord with the Dharma, all would be practitioners, and the Buddhist enterprise would flourish. Nowadays, most people stay and muddle along in worldly life as long as they can, grasping whatever they can grasp in the world; only those who have no way to grasp anything anymore go forth. How good can a monastery and Saṅgha like that possibly be?