Actual Practice, Real Results

Ru Chun: During meditation recently, no matter how much commotion there is outside, it doesn't affect me. Sometimes I feel anxious inside and want to get up to see what's happening, but no matter how hard I try to urge myself to rise quickly, my body just doesn't cooperate—I can't move, I can't get up. Scolding myself is useless. Sometimes the same thing happens when I'm reciting scriptures. For several days, I didn't feel like speaking. Whatever others said to me, I’d only reply with a single "hmm," as if my mouth were very heavy, and opening it felt exhausting and laborious.

Eating is the same. I don’t feel hungry; my stomach feels full and bloated. I only eat out of habit at mealtimes, but chewing, swallowing, and digesting all feel very strenuous. Later, I realized this state was too much of a hindrance, so I kept warning myself to move more, talk more, not let myself stay still, and not sit down casually. Because once I sit down, I become quiet, and it feels as if a strong buzzing signal sound comes into my mind, with a pressure building at the back of my head, making me want to meditate. Once I sit down, I can’t move for a long time.

As soon as I cross my legs, a very pleasant sensation seems to radiate from the base of my thighs. In my mind or deep within my ears, I hear intermittent "crackling" sounds, crisp and sometimes very loud. The weather isn’t hot, but my head or the back of my scalp often sweats, though the rest of my body doesn’t. After getting up from meditation, my mind feels much clearer. Dharma principles I haven’t fully contemplated continue to circulate in my mind without interfering with what I’m doing with my hands. The top of my head feels swollen from time to time. My body feels much lighter, and I have more energy and vitality. Afflictions have also diminished significantly. When faced with criticism, my reaction is very calm—neither anxious nor angry. I just do as asked, very compliantly, without much vexation. Only sometimes I seem slow to react, a bit foolish and clumsy, which can be a bit frustrating.

My insight meditation seems to have improved somewhat. Previously, most of my insight meditation involved only introspecting my own mind or observing certain phenomena. Later, I heard the master say this was just "plucking leaves; you need to dig up the roots." I asked the master, "How do I dig up the roots?" The master said, "First realize the emptiness of the Small Vehicle, then realize the emptiness of the Great Vehicle." So I tried to contemplate the suffering, emptiness, impermanence, and non-self of the five aggregates. Before, I always felt as if I couldn’t find the way and didn’t know how to contemplate. But this time, I seem to have a bit of a feeling for it, like I’m starting to understand how to do it. When studying Dharma principles, I can also understand and observe them more from the perspective of liberation.

Commentary: When you sit in meditation for longer periods and your concentration can be sustained continuously, it will gradually deepen. Quantitative change leads to qualitative change. Therefore, you don’t need to keep thinking about getting up during meditation or constantly pay attention to the people and things around you. Mundane habits must change; your mind should gradually shift toward the path of cultivation.

Judging from the physical state you described during meditation, you are opening the crown chakra and are close to opening the root chakra among the seven chakras. This is a cause for celebration. Once the body’s energy channels are unobstructed, meditation will no longer be a problem, and you’ll be able to use it fully for deep and meticulous insight meditation. And indeed, your current insight meditation is now on the right path, no longer deviating haphazardly. Both concentration (samadhi) and wisdom (prajna) are on track and deepening. With continued effort, results will emerge, progressing toward the stage of stream-entry (sotāpatti).

In terms of your mental disposition, it is sufficiently virtuous and pure, aspiring for liberation. You possess renunciation mind, and your views are all correct. Your merit cultivation has always been diligent, sufficient to support your realization of the path. Being slow has its advantages—you listen to advice and are diligent. The slow bird is finally about to overtake the fast bird. Master, thinking about all I’ve invested in you over the years, it’s almost paying off. All the past efforts are now worth it. If others could be like this too, even if I gave my all (this hundred-something pounds of mine), it wouldn’t be a loss, since I’d at least get something back in return.

As for those other fast birds—they are clever, yes, but clever in the wrong places. They’re still grasping and grabbing in the world. What are they grabbing? Things that arise and cease—none of which they can take with them. Their cleverness backfires; it’s better to be a bit slower, to have fewer worldly skills, so you roll around less in the world and get less covered in filth.

When cultivation shows results, one’s reactions to the external world often slow down, appearing foolish and clumsy, because the mind is not focused outwardly. We’d rather remain like this, slow and foolish, and ultimately attain the Way, becoming even slower and more foolish, than to be clever and sharp in the world. Clever people end up cleverly falling into the three lower realms. How clever can they be there? They only get to suffer retribution! A common characteristic of good practitioners is appearing foolish, looking slow-witted. But this is worldly people’s judgment—what credibility do worldly views have? They are all foolish views. Conforming to worldly views leads to the same destination as worldly people: the three lower realms. We aim to resolve the great matter of birth and death, to witness the supreme truth. We shouldn’t care how worldly people see us, nor fear their gaze. Only when we are different from worldly people in every aspect does our cultivation show promising signs.

Good practitioners, those with fewer worldly habits, and worldly people look at each other with mutual aversion; neither finds the other agreeable. In such situations, if they interact closely, only one side tolerating more can bring some harmony. Otherwise, both sides feel uncomfortable. And the side that tolerates must pay a price. It’s like a tall person communicating face-to-face with a short person: the tall one must bend down and lower their head to accommodate the short one. Does that feel good? Backache, leg pain—suffering they can’t speak of. Master, this lifetime of mine has been spent bending down and lowering my head like this. That suffering—no one to tell, no one who understands. I can only endure it silently myself, hoping for the day when I no longer have to endure it, and hoping all my disciples will grow tall so I no longer have to bend down and lower my head.