Although we may have been studying Buddhism for a long time, the purpose of our practice often remains vague. Why does this happen? Because we only have a conceptual renunciation, not a genuine one. If you do not have a strong longing for liberation, you will not experience the sense of release or letting go. “Letting go,” for you, is nothing more than a word—a concept.
Let me give an example. When we suffer a setback or a shock and go to see a teacher, if that teacher only tells you, “Let go, let go, let go,” do you think you can really let it go? At that moment, “letting go” is just two Chinese characters to you, and once you return home, you will continue to struggle inwardly.
Because the teacher did not give you a specific pith instruction to remove that pain, you may even internally criticize the teacher: “Oh, so you just tell me to let go—nothing else?” As a result, not only do you fail to let go of the pain, you also give rise to dissatisfaction with the teacher. The suffering is not reduced at all—it actually increases.
Once, a fellow practitioner went to see a khenpo and said, “Khenpo, why is it that you never give me what I want?” What was it that he wanted? In fact, all a khenpo can give us are methods and instructions for liberation. If you refuse to let go, there is nothing he can do for you—and there is nothing even the Buddha can do for you. This is something we must do ourselves. Therefore, without genuine renunciation, relying solely on a conceptual mindset simply does not work.
Merely knowing some concepts is truly not enough, because conceptual renunciation lacks strength. It cannot remove the many kinds of attachment that lie hidden within our mental continuum. Genuine renunciation, on the other hand, is directed precisely at attachment. There are many forms of attachment, and very often when we become angry, it is because of attachment. We cling to something, and when others interfere with that attachment, anger arises. This is very similar to the situation of some fellow practitioners who fall in love. During a relationship, they often say, “I love you so much, I really love you!” Yet behind this so-called “love,” it is actually because the other person brings pleasure—what is being clung to is that pleasure itself.
When the loved one leaves, hatred arises immediately. As we often see in films and in real life, many stories follow the pattern of love first, then hatred. When they love, the love feels extremely real—deeply ingrained; when they hate, the hatred also feels just as real. This shows that the love was not truly love for the other person, but love for the feelings that person brought. When the other person can no longer provide that feeling, hatred begins. This hatred, too, is actually caused by attachment. Therefore, in the Śrāvakayāna, breaking attachment is regarded as the most important practice. They use practices such as the contemplation of impurity (aśubha-bhāvanā) and skeleton contemplation to undermine attachment to pleasure and attachment to external objects (or sensory objects) that trigger pleasure.
Therefore, giving rise to genuine renunciation is very difficult. Do not think that we can easily generate true renunciation.
—Excerpted and adapted from Conceptual Renunciation and Genuine Renunciation
This article is a preliminary translation draft and has not yet been reviewed or proofread by the speaker.
