I have often mistakenly characterized spiritual practice and meditation as a kind of ascending ladder which gradually refines the soul. But in fact, there are times when spiritual practice is so simple that a person misses it unless they are just sitting still. I think the habitual way is to try to objectify the mind or make the secrets of the mind into a single congealing image. The problem with this objectifying habit is that it ends up confusing the mind and putting it into a very strange and lonely state of dependence and craving.
In Surangama Sutra, Buddha remarks to Ananda, "What is the distorted phenomenon that we call beings, Ananda? The enlightened nature of the true mind that understands is such that its understanding is perfect and complete. But, Ananda, from this understanding, another understanding may be created as another entity, and from that other entity, a deluded awareness will come into being. Thus from within the original state which has no attributes whatever, that which has definite attributes comes into being. (p.314)
What does it mean to have 'no attributes'? I am trying to understand what this means after meditation, and seems it has to do with the mind as is, when it is no longer confusing its true nature with thoughts or images. When I am able to let everything settle down through a method of resting the mind, I find that there is no single attribute that I can point to as a fixed part of mind. There is an enormous relief in this realization.
The challenge that I face is that sooner or later, there is this 'other' understanding that comes along and tries to grasp this 'no attribute' state. It's almost as though one were not content simply to have this perfect and complete understanding and had to have another awareness to prove one's existence. There is then a concerted effort to grasp the mind through thoughts or images: to hold it in one's mind. I find it hard to grasp what happens when the mind is grasping--and here paradoxically, I see the point, and that is I am trying to 'hold onto' something to confirm that "I" statically exist. If I let go of grasping mind altogether, I might arrive at something very different from intellectual grasping.
To go back to a non-grasping state is also a kind of grasping. Buddha remarks to Ananda, "Confusion about the original perfect understanding results in delusion, but this delusion has no essential nature of its own; it is based on nothing." (p.315) If I understand correctly, this section means that even trying to 'get rid of' delusion is committing the exact same mistake as before. Can you imagine being in a dream, then saying, "OK, this time I've got it--I am sure that this is a dream, and I have got this thought to prove that I am only dreaming!" Or this mind, or this body, or whatever. The point is that even though the person appears to have seen the impermanence of appearances, she is still holding onto this subject that sees. Trying to 'return to' something more real that the impermanent dream is still grasping at phenomena. There is nothing to return to in a sense, because there wasn't anything permanent about the dream to begin with.
So what to do then? All throughout this discussion, I think the sutra (perhaps) gets one closer to repenting of the original mistake. If I try to use anything as a benchmark to measure spiritual practice, soon enough it becomes another form of ignorance. I am still trying to stand somewhere while the rest of the world turns around 'me'. And the delusion here is about a self that is permanent--the thing I can rely on that is 'reliably me.' Buddha keeps kicking the rug from underneath Ananda's feet until there is nothing to stand upon.
Another way of putting this is that anytime I try to let go of one delusion, I merely substitute another one for it. If I am trying to overcome a craving for something that attracts me, I then find another object to distract me or give me a temporary illusion of control, such as a self-help manual. Though the manual might help me distract from the attachment to one object, it still reinforces the view that I am somebody who is overcoming attachment. Then I might even start to tell myself, "I am fine now--put anything attractive in front of me, and I should have the strength to overcome it." But at this point, I am only playing a game where the self is the main character and all the actors are also the self. To quote a lyric from a Steely Dan song, "It's your game, the rules are your own, win or lose." And often one can actually make a whole life out of attaching to something, then trying to struggle out of attachment through another attachment. What's missing in this view?
This discussion so far sound very dry and abstract, but I am reflecting on all the suffering that comes out from attachment. It's not that the object itself is a source of suffering, but it's the delusion that is, and I am often filled with a sense of betrayal when I reflect on it. How often does a person keep trying to find reliable supports for its own existence, only to find themselves feeling betrayed by their craving? For instance, we often go through the world looking for something that will 'cure' attachment, only to find that the cure itself is an attachment. And it emptily stares back at us at the end of the day, like a mirror: whatever we put into it is what we got out of it, and there was nothing substantial about it. It is just something we keep filling up with our own air, or with the passion from our lungs.
On the other hand, when I finally give up trying to salvage myself through an attachment or an expectation, what emerges are these little glimpses of compassion. I realize how much that attachment can cause so much grief, and I stop trying to fill the compulsion. And this frees space to appreciate people as they truly are including how they struggle in life with much the same things. But the only way to get there is to sit for a while. None of this can be realized by thinking alone.
Surangama Sutra: A New Translation (2009). Buddhist Text Translation Society
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