The Level of Wisdom of General-Aspect Wisdom at the Time of Initial Enlightenment

A lay Buddhist asked: Master, when one first awakens and realizes the tathāgatagarbha, one gives rise to wisdom of the general characteristic. Using this wisdom of the general characteristic to observe the tathāgatagarbha, within what range can one observe? I replied: At the time of initial awakening, this range is not very large; the observation is not yet pervasive. The range is limited to the simple operations of the five aggregates (pañcaskandha), and is rather rough; within complex operations, the tathāgatagarbha is difficult to observe. Among these, the aggregate of form (rūpa) and the aggregate of formations (saṃskāra) are primary; the aggregates of feeling (vedanā), perception (saṃjñā), and consciousness (vijñāna) can be observed to a slight degree, but not much and not deeply. This is because the aggregates of form and formations are more evident and easier to observe; on the aggregate of feeling, one can also observe roughly, while observation on the aggregates of perception and consciousness is somewhat more difficult. All of it is rough, general observation, unable to penetrate into the details; the observation is not deep or subtle.

However, this observation is an observation of direct perception/valid direct cognition—that is, an observation directly present. At the very moment the five aggregates are operating, one sees it or one does not; one must not fall into a moment's thinking. In between, no language, words, or sounds appear; one does not fall into the appearances of thinking, deliberation, analysis, or pondering. Once one falls into deliberation, it is no longer direct, present observation. During the investigation, once language, words, or sounds appear, it certainly means that meditative concentration is insufficient, that the mind consciousness's function of sentiment and intellectual interpretation has gained the upper hand, and that the manas's function has weakened—it is not the wisdom of direct perception. Therefore, direct perception must be the manas personally arriving at the scene to observe, discover, and witness, not the mind consciousness's kind of brain-thinking and mental supplementation. In ancient times, when Chan masters tested their disciples, if a disciple hesitated even slightly and wanted to describe it in words, the master would often strike down with a blow of the staff, not allowing them to fall into thinking and intellectual interpretation.

The mind consciousness's thinking has an evident mode of activity; especially the mind consciousness's solitary thinking is not direct perception. Only what is observed simultaneously together with the manas is direct perception, with the mind consciousness playing an auxiliary role, not the leading role. The smaller the proportion it occupies, the deeper the wisdom; the more it is direct perception, the more it cannot be denied, cannot be retracted, and is not hesitant and indecisive, but is very firm and resolute, without doubt. It can be seen that this kind of observation of direct perception is extremely difficult to achieve, requiring both very high meditative skill and very high wisdom.

From the Tang and Song dynasties onward, after the Sixth Patriarch, it is said that more than a thousand people attained enlightenment, and seventeen hundred Chan kōans have been passed down. But not all of these are pure realization and enlightenment; there are also cases of intellectual understanding/interpretive awakening, and the specific numbers cannot be examined or counted. From the few words in those enlightenment verses, and from the brief dialogues and suggestive descriptions—because there are no details—one cannot discern from them whether it was realization or interpretive awakening. Even if they all had meditative concentration, this does not show that everyone with meditative concentration must have realized enlightenment; of course, those without meditative concentration certainly cannot realize it. Only when, within meditative concentration, one is precisely in a state of the manas deeply investigating and awakens, seeing it immediately without falling into the mind consciousness's thinking—only that counts as realization and enlightenment. Whatever leans toward the mind consciousness is interpretive awakening, or may not even count as interpretive awakening. Of course, if it is genuine interpretive awakening, through cultivating concentration and strengthening the manas's power of investigation, it can be transformed into realization.

To have this power of investigation, meditative concentration is indispensable. To have meditative concentration, the physical body must gather qi; when qi gathers, the body is settled; when the body is settled, the mind is settled. To gather qi, first, the body must be healthy, with the qi channels/vessels running smoothly, able to form a powerful force that gathers and concentrates the mind; second, there must be no scattered and miscellaneous thoughts, no fantasizing or mental wandering—that is, not grasping at dharmas, which means being able to let go of worldly affairs. If the body's qi is insufficient, qi cannot be gathered. To make qi sufficient, one can practice qi cultivation, or replenish qi, through dietary or medicinal supplementation. Once the qi arises, one must follow along with the movement of qi, letting both body and mind quiet down; once this momentum forms, meditative concentration appears. Therefore, practice should be started as early as possible, while the body is healthy and one's strength is abundant. Do not wait until old age and declining appearance, when nothing works anymore, to remember that one should practice—at that point it may be too late, and the meditative skill cannot be built up. Although practice is not about cultivating the body, without the body's cooperation, how can one practice?

A seventy-five-year-old elderly laywoman called me; her voice was resonant as a bell, with abundant vital qi. As soon as I heard it, this momentum surpassed even mine, and surpassed many young people in their twenties and thirties. From her voice, I could tell she could easily live another twenty years. I asked how her meditative concentration was. She said it was very good, that she could reach the level of investigating with the manas, without scattered thoughts, and with a strong sensation of qi. I asked about her level of wisdom. She asked me about the wisdom of the general characteristic at the time of initial awakening—within what range one could observe the operation of the tathāgatagarbha. As soon as I heard this, I understood: over these years, both her meditative skill and wisdom had greatly advanced; her mind was broad in capacity and vision, her roots of goodness deep—she is a person who will become a suitable vessel for the Path.