Why Do the Rules and Laws of the World Have Limitations?

Shuiru asked: Some questions are ones I pondered over for a long time myself, and I feel that the answers derived from the manas can be mutually interconnected. But when others asked and I answered, they said it did not quite match the definitions. In fact, definitions are sometimes very vague and cannot be put into practice, because the person who defined them did not truly understand them in the first place. Why is it that content which I clearly find useful and which can interconnect with theory is not taken seriously by others? Or is it that people of different levels find it hard to communicate with each other?

Answer: Your question is a universal one in the Saha world. The reason this doubt arises is that you—or everyone—take the previously established conclusions and definitions as correct and infallible standards, and take all the theories recognized by worldly people as fixed, unchanging rules and principles. But this is not so. Almost all the rules, standards, theories, and cognitions in the Saha world are erroneous; even those that appear correct are only temporary, relative, and limited in scope—not the absolutely unchanging, genuine truth. Therefore, as one cultivates and wisdom grows, one's cognition changes; when one sees through the worldly rules and truths and transcends them, contradictions appear.

In terms of the Buddha-dharma, the former teachings in the Saha world—the portion not spoken by the Buddha—are not completely and absolutely correct, because the Dharma speakers have not grasped absolute truth and have not practiced all the dharmas; their wisdom is therefore limited, their Dharma is not perfect, and errors are inevitable. For example, regarding the mental factors (caittas) associated with the manas, modern psychology has broken through the old cognitive theories from the practical level of direct perception, showing that the mental factors of the manas are not what the former Yogācāra masters claimed—only a very few mental factors, with the manas doing almost nothing.

Actual evidence proves this is not the case: the manas is extremely active; its activity is present everywhere. Where there is no manas, there are no six sense objects and no six consciousnesses. Now, when the manas comes out and moves about everywhere, with all kinds of mental activities, would it not bring its mental factors along with it? Does the manas not rely on mental factors to function? This simply does not make sense. Why then did the ancient Yogācāra masters still posit the mental factors of the manas in that way? The reason is that their cognition was limited, their practical experience insufficient, and their theory could not be connected with reality.

The various rules and standards in the world can even less withstand verification and examination. All the laws, rules, and regulations of every country are established by human beings, and humans are so ignorant and lacking in wisdom—how could they establish anything perfectly? Whatever is established by humans is not perfect and cannot be perfect; in the end it will all change and disappear. All the habits and customs of sentient beings are likewise ignorant and lacking in wisdom; none of them can be taken as absolute truth, and all will change and be altered—now one way, now another. Where is there anything true? So the human world is a stage, a theater; everyone is just acting in it. Do not take any of the various rules, principles, systems, and regulations seriously—they pass away and change; what has changed is likewise not truth. Just play the game and be done with it.

Human language and writing are also part of the game; none of it can be taken as true, for it is impermanent and subject to change. The rules of this game are likewise established by humans; when humans change, the rules must change, otherwise contradictions appear. And why should rules established by humans be adapted to completely and unconditionally? For example, punctuation marks, the forms of written characters, the meanings of words, the composition of sentences and phrases—all are established by humans and all change with people; they can be set up however one wishes. So why should we cling to one particular game, one particular setup, one particular algorithm?

What are language and writing for? They are for expressing meaning and for communication. If the meaning can be expressed accurately and communication achieved, why bother strictly observing so many rules? Why use so many meaningless embellishments? Therefore, a genuine person of true temperament, one unwilling to follow conventions, can completely disregard these rules and formulas. No game rules should bind a person of true temperament. A genuine person does not play by worldly conventions; otherwise one is just a vulgar person drifting with the current, not a genuine person. Being adept at breaking conventions and norms is the conduct of the wise; only the mediocre follow rules and routines.

I have a quiet, tranquil body that does nothing, yet at the same time I have a wild heart that breaks through all established rules, unwilling to be trapped and confined by fixed customs. No rules are in my heart or in my eyes; at times they are merely beneath my words. Such a me—would the world tolerate me? Certainly not. Do I have companions? Certainly none. Am I lonely? Certainly lonely. I often wish to end it all with death, because there is no way to change anything—only to change my own fate. Yet responsibility lies there, and cannot be shirked, so I can only live on with difficulty, without interest.

Jun Ruolan: Yes, Master. In the past, whenever I met people who studied the Buddha-dharma, as soon as they heard that I had studied psychology, they would almost all tell me that psychology is not ultimate, that it is too shallow and cannot reach the seventh consciousness. Of course I know the limitations of psychology, and I also know that those counselors who have studied it shallowly indeed mostly operate at the level of the mind consciousness. But a few deeply learned psychological counselors have done a great deal of practical research on the seventh consciousness, and their insights are even deeper than those of many ordinary practitioners of the Buddha-dharma.

However, the main theoretical content of psychology does indeed have its own limitations. If the counselors who have gone deep were to further study Yogācāra, many of their confusions could be resolved, and their vision and limitations could be further opened up. Unfortunately, many of them do not study the Buddha-dharma—this is something this disciple intends to work on further. Recently, through several conversations with Master, I feel I have gained a great deal.