Spiritual practice is not inherently complicated. This is especially true when cultivating renunciation and bodhicitta. What truly matters is taking them seriously. We often consider ourselves clever, yet the very thing we fail to do is take seriously.
The disconnect between conceptual understanding and one's actual mind has, in many ways, become a longstanding cultural habit. Whatever the situation, there always seem to be two different standards. When people want you to act honorably, they quote, "A gentleman loves wealth, but acquires it by righteous means." Yet when they want you to seize advantage by any means necessary, they say, " A horse won't fatten without night grazing, nor a man grow rich without windfall gains." When they expect you to submit, they remind you that " Only those who recognize the trends of the times are truly wise."
When sacrifice is required, they invoke, " Leave behind a loyal heart to shine through the pages of history." When war is needed, they cry, "Long live the nation!" When war is no longer needed, they advocate class struggle instead. There is always an appropriate slogan for every occasion. Yet beneath all these shifting standards lies only one constant: self-grasping. The only real criterion is self-grasping—what serves my own desire.
Before conceptual bodhicitta has penetrated deeply into the mind, it can easily be manipulated by self-grasping—and this is truly frightening. Conceptual bodhicitta harms not only ourselves but inevitably others as well. At first, a superficial display of bodhicitta may leave people with the impression that you are compassionate and gentle. Yet after spending more time with you, they may be shocked to discover how selfish or petty you can actually be. Conflicts then arise, people begin ignoring one another, and even fellow Vajra brothers and sisters develop painful divisions.
If we look at our own Dharma community, do we not see the same phenomenon? Having generated Mahāyāna bodhicitta, we should naturally care for and support one another, allowing everyone to feel embraced by kindness and warmth.
Instead, our communities are often filled with all kinds of conflicts. People compete with one another and engage in subtle psychological games. As described in Du Mu's Rhapsody on the Epang Palace: “twisting and turning, coiling and folding.” Even more bewildering is that, after all the arguing and competing, no one can clearly explain what they were fighting over in the first place.
Worldly people usually struggle over something tangible—a house, a car, wealth, status, or relationships. At least they know what they are seeking. Yet we study the Dharma in order to benefit others, and still we compete against one another. Isn't that deeply ironic?
Ultimately, this reflects an overall lack of spiritual maturity. We fail to understand that what we are truly learning is how to offer ourselves. As long as we cling tightly to this "self," refusing to let it go, it will remain the root of every form of inner suffering.
Ultimately, we study Buddhism in pursuit of happiness—both temporary happiness and ultimate happiness. But as long as we continue clinging to the self, we will never experience the happiness taught in the Buddhadharma, nor will the immeasurable qualities described in The Bodhicaryāvatāra ever manifest. After a long time, we may even feel that we have been deceived. In truth, however, the Buddhadharma has never spoken a single false word. The problem is simply that we have never truly taken it seriously.
—Excerpted and adapted from Genuine Bodhicitta and Conceptual Bodhicitta.
This article is a preliminary translation draft and has not yet been reviewed or proofread by the speaker.
Comments (0)