Reflections on the Spiritual Journey (2of2) — Returning to the Ordinary
Along with my clinging to the Dharma and the deepening of my cultivation and realization—especially the strengthening of my meditative concentration—my distracting thoughts grew fewer and fewer. My state of mind began to become pure, my heart broadened, and I became capable of endurance and tolerance. I started to focus intently on doing one single thing, and occasionally, I could even experience the joy of living completely in the present moment. I gradually began to taste the sweetness of cultivation and realization; that is, I personally tasted the true flavor of the Dharma.
Although I still couldn’t use the wisdom of the Dharma to solve every single problem in life, most of the time when I got lost, it was simply due to the impurities of my habitual tendencies and desires, and I was able to quickly rescue myself from that confusion and affliction. I saw the inherently illusory nature of this world more and more clearly. My aspirations became lofty, and my thoughts and insights were so high that I couldn’t even be bothered to discuss them with the “stupid people” around me. I had a feeling that “the whole world is drunk, and I alone am sober.” My body and mind were pure, my integrity was awe-inspiring, and I would no longer bow down just to secure three meals a day or to satisfy the desires of this physical shell. I viewed money, fame, and wealth as nothing more than dirt, and I couldn’t be bothered to discriminate or fuss over the quality of my food or my clothes. Occasionally going hungry became a common occurrence, but I didn’t feel that life was a struggle. I no longer held much attachment or lingering affection for this world… I had gradually entered the maturity stage.
However, during this stage, my habitual tendencies and desires had not actually been eradicated. My greed and clinging toward attaining enlightenment were no more holy or pure than the greed found in the secular world. Furthermore, I was greedy for purity and unwilling to involve myself too deeply in worldly affairs. I loved to brag and talk grandly with fellow practitioners I liked, spouting profound and unfathomable theories and insights, acting as if I were a Bodhisattva returning to this world. Meanwhile, arrogance followed me around like a shadow…
Gradually, I began to realize that all of this within me was unreliable. There were still many conflicts in the secular world that I couldn’t face with a pure mind or handle harmoniously. Sometimes, I was still being led by the nose by my own desires and habitual tendencies. I still cared about other people’s evaluations and opinions of me. I had simply stopped discriminating and fussing over certain issues, but my “ego-clinging” had not actually been broken. There was always an “I” constantly obstructing me, making it impossible for me to truly merge into oneness with the universe, nature, and all sentient beings—what we call “uniting with the Tao.”
If we cannot merge into oneness with sentient beings and achieve the state of no mark of self, no mark of others, and no mark of sentient beings, we can never truly penetrate to the source of all dharmas, nor can we truly and thoroughly understand the essence and truth of all phenomena. As the poem says, “You cannot know the true face of the mountain, simply because you are standing right inside it.” To break our ego-clinging, we must possess universal love and compassion. If you want to reach perfect completion, only those “stupid people” you previously couldn’t be bothered to talk to can actually help you. Only sentient beings can help you achieve realization. We then begin to enter the completion stage.
Mindful awareness shines brightly, and we thoroughly correct every single arising thought. It feels a bit like scraping the bone to cure a poison, or sacrificing one’s life for a greater righteousness. If the ego does not die, the Great Tao will not manifest. We return to the secular world, and our spiritual journey begins anew. We become completely ordinary and commonplace, and we begin to experience true greatness right from within that ordinariness. We begin to become Bodhisattvas who can truly and selflessly benefit all sentient beings, possessing the compassion of a shared entity and unconditional loving-kindness. This arises in every single drop of everyday life in the secular world.
Only at this point can true merit and virtue finally arise, and the benefits of that merit and virtue will manifest in an instant.
The water flows, and the flowers bloom.
Yang Ning