What Is Actual Practice and Realization? (Starting from Ru Ben's Contemplative Practice Journal)

Ruben: This morning when I sat down, I adjusted my breathing for a while, but it did not feel very smooth, and I was not focused. Then I slowly and silently recited the Heart Sutra and entered a state of śamatha-vipaśyanā, and my mind became fairly settled. Then I tried to contemplate the in-and-out breath. When my legs became numb and swollen, a feeling of restlessness was about to arise in my mind, or distracting thoughts were about to emerge, so I stopped contemplating the breath and again slowly and silently recited the Heart Sutra, entering a state of śamatha-vipaśyanā again, and my mind became fairly settled.

After getting off the cushion and going to the toilet, I felt that this body is just a "flowing" thing—where is there an unchanging body-image? While eating, I looked at my family member sitting across from me and felt that she was merely a dummy made of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and the internal organs assembled on a skeleton. Yet she does not know that she is such a dummy. I could not tell her about this feeling of mine, for fear she would be displeased. While eating, looking at the rice and vegetables in the bowl, composed of the four great elements, I felt that after they entered my body they became part of the body; the material body and the material rice are no different—both are just the four great elements—just like the flowers on the balcony, which absorb soil and water and grow into various plants.

But why do I not consider the flowers to be myself? Why do I grasp at a physical body of the four great elements as "I"? Why does everyone's body grow differently? What does that have to do with my mind consciousness? At this point I stopped and did not think further. I did not want to force my previous learning into analysis and deliberation; I should hand this question over to the manas for deliberation (manana). Only through continuous observation, searching and examining (vitarka-vicāra), and chewing on it does "meaning" arise—only with a questioning doubt is there the desire to probe deeply.

Today when I went out and saw people walking toward me on the opposite side of the street, I felt that their figures, movements, and speech were also moving dummies, yet they all do not know they are dummies. At the doorway I greeted an acquaintance, staring at their forehead, thinking that beneath the forehead is a pile of white bones, with the same stuff inside. It truly felt meaningless. Watching others speak, I felt that the sounds of speech they emitted were merely air currents colliding with the material lips, tongue, throat, and trachea—not much different from a person beating a drum or ringing a bell. The right and wrong, the true and false, the beautiful and ugly that people usually speak of or argue about are all meaningless. I did not want to talk. I rested in the breath. (End of journal.)

The above is a process of practicing the four foundations of mindfulness (satipaṭṭhāna). In this process, the contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) becomes ever deeper and ever broader, gradually extending into every corner and every aspect of life, from morning to night to sleep, reaching uninterrupted continuity. The mind gradually detaches from worldly appearances, becoming increasingly empty, gradually exchanging the mortal's bones and shedding the mortal's shell. If one keeps up this effort, sooner or later one day one will leap over the Dragon Gate, and the carp will become a dragon.

When contemplative practice extends to every aspect of daily living and reaches uninterrupted continuity, that is the initial stage of meditative absorption (samādhi). This samādhi contains both meditative concentration and wisdom, only not yet perfected and ultimate. The perfected and ultimate samādhi is the samādhi at the time of awakening to the Way, the samādhi of the pure Dharma eye, the samādhi of cutting the three fetters, the samādhi of not falling into the three evil destinies. Such contemplative practice is merely a process, a process of transformation of body and mind. In this process, the five faculties, the four right efforts, the four bases of supernormal power, the seven factors of enlightenment, the eightfold noble path, and the four foundations of mindfulness gradually become complete and perfect. When the conditions for realizing the Way are complete, self-view (ātma-dṛṣṭi) will be eliminated, one will enter the stage of realizing the Way, and attain the pure Dharma eye.

Only this can be called genuine practice—genuine down to every corner and aspect of daily life, genuine down to every thought in the mind, every conduct, every discipline; genuine down to every step, genuine within all the stages of practice and necessary conditions taught by the Buddha—meticulous and without impatience—genuine down to afflictions not arising and mental thoughts ceasing. Of course, what ceases are the thoughts of the mind consciousness; the manas's deliberation (manana) upon dharmas never ceases, mind-moment after mind-moment without interruption.

Therefore, the final seeing of the Way must be the manas seeing the Way and realizing the Way. After realizing the fruit, its mental activity is also uninterrupted, its transformed mental formations and mental factors are also uninterrupted and continuous, and the five grades of coarse afflictions (dausthulya) are also uninterruptedly extinguished. There will not be a back-and-forth switching between being a noble one one moment and an ordinary being the next, with no need for the mind consciousness to restrain the manas and pull it back to the recognition of emptiness and non-self.

Realizing the fruit with the mind consciousness is just the opposite: when the mind consciousness is clear, one is a good person, but when circumstances arise, the manas, along with the afflictions, manifests a defiled mind; the six consciousnesses, unaware, follow along and create defiled karma. Afterwards, the mind consciousness feels it was inappropriate and supervises the manas to suppress the afflictions—but by the time of suppression, the afflictions have already arisen, the fault has already been committed, the evil karma has already been formed, and the seeds have already been left behind. What to do about the future? Thoughts of greed appear at every turn, thoughts of hatred appear at every turn; from time to time one breaks a precept, gives rise to an affliction, creates an evil karma. What kind of noble one is this? Although one afterwards recognizes the error and corrects it, cycling round and round like this—what Way has been seen? So unreliable, so exhausting! When the mind consciousness feels fatigued, it will no longer endlessly supervise the manas; the brakes fail—what will the consequence be then?

Every Buddhist practitioner, having already encountered the Dharma of liberation, should practice honestly, steadfastly, and down-to-earth, without a mentality of opportunism, deceiving themselves and then deceiving others. Paper cannot wrap fire in the end; a paper house cannot withstand wind and rain and will sooner or later be destroyed. Better to find, as early as possible, a permanent place of peace and cessation—this is what the wise do.