When interpersonal conflicts arise within a group—contemplate renunciation in light of right view, observe your own mind, and let go of attachment.
So if we do not deeply contemplate and repeatedly train in these points, the later stages of practice simply will not work. In a couple of days, we will talk about emptiness (śūnyatā), discussing some very profound topics. But if the renunciation (nekkhamma) in our mental continuum is not strong, then what we hear in those teachings will be nothing more than knowledge. At best, we may use it to debate with others, boosting our vanity and creating a false sense of prestige; at worst, it can even harm us.
Look at some of our Dharma groups—there is so much conflict and discord. Where do they come from? Before learning Buddhism, everyone might have been good friends. Yet after coming together to practice, we end up creating enemies and generating all kinds of conflicts.
What is the reason? Reflect carefully and then let go of these unnecessary attachments. Why go through all that, right? It is truly unnecessary, because these things neither benefit others nor ourselves—they harm others and do not even benefit oneself. Yet we still keep doing them. Why? Because of ignorance (avidyā) and the force of self-grasping (ātmagrāha), and because our renunciation is insufficient! Not to mention bodhicitta, we don’t even have enough renunciation. Liberation (mokṣa) is not the top priority in our mental continuum. Instead, the pleasures of saṃsāra—those experiences and situations that make us feel good—are what matter most to us, and so we strive for them.
When two people think this way, conflict naturally arises. In a group, with a dozen people sitting together studying Buddhism, each one insists, “What I say must be absolutely correct.” If someone dares to disagree, even if outwardly they remain polite, inwardly dissatisfaction immediately arises: “Look at him—how dare he have a different opinion from mine!” When this happens, immediately observe yourself: “I’ve fallen back into saṃsāra!” Sometimes this does not even appear as a clear thought, but rather as a subtle inner discomfort.
At this moment, you must begin to observe yourself. This very observation is practice—at the very least, it is a practice of dissolving afflictive emotions (kleśa). What is the principle behind it? I seek renunciation—I cannot afford to have these things. If I still have them, I cannot renounce. If I cannot even let go of such a small emotional disturbance, how could I possibly let go of the great attachment to saṃsāra—the cycle of birth and death (saṃsāra)?
We have studied Buddhism for many years, yet we cannot even resolve our most basic suffering—why is that? We have read so many texts: Bodhicaryāvatāra, Madhyamakālaṃkāra, Madhyāntavibhāga, Dharmadharmatāvibhāga, Abhisamayālaṃkāra… These are all extraordinarily profound treatises, yet we are still unable to resolve even our most basic suffering. It is truly shameful! Why? Because everything we have learned remains at the level of concepts. Even the most fundamental, genuine renunciation (nekkhamma)—the mindset that places liberation (mokṣa) as the highest priority—is neither well established nor deeply internalized.
Everyone is searching for pith instructions (upadeśa), but where is there a single sentence that, once heard, can liberate us? If such a teaching existed, why wouldn’t the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas proclaim it? If one instruction could liberate beings like us, the khenpos would be shouting it through megaphones in the streets. Saṃsāra would quickly disappear, and the Sahā world would become Sukhāvatī—this has been their aspiration for countless kalpas! So why don’t they do it? Because no matter how loudly you shout, it amounts to nothing! There is no such shortcut. We must rely on our own contemplation and meditation (bhāvanā). Therefore, I hope everyone will truly put effort into this.
Earlier I mentioned three ways to generate renunciation; one of them is to repeatedly listen to and reflect upon these teachings on renunciation. Do not think they are “low-level.” Some people say, “ you’re still talking about this? Can’t you talk about emptiness (śūnyatā), discuss Tathāgatagarbha, or explain the difference between ālaya-vijñāna and dharmatā?” But once they learn such knowledge, they immediately show it off in front of others.
I’ve met many such people—when debating with others, they call me for answers, and then turn around and present it as their own. Of course, from the perspective of spreading the Dharma, this is not necessarily bad. But you must examine your own mind: if it is truly for the sake of benefiting the Dharma—excellent, that is bodhicitta; but if it is to prove that you are superior in front of others, then you don’t even have renunciation. Therefore, you must carefully observe your motivation!
Observe yourself: in a group, do we often generate conflicts? When conflicts arise, examine why. In daily life, we are sometimes struck by painful events, and the mind becomes tangled and distressed. Every time such inner turmoil appears, an opportunity has arrived—observe yourself!
What we have learned—does it remain only as something we think about in our heads? Conceptually, we may believe that saṃsāra is full of faults and that life is truly suffering. But the moment someone invites us to play mahjong, off we go! All thoughts of the “faults of saṃsāra” vanish completely! Isn’t that so? Observe yourself!
When we see attractive goods on the street, do we reflect: these things will ultimately lead to suffering? If you are younger, apply this reflection when you are in a relationship. I assure you, thinking this way will not prevent you from being in love—you can still continue the relationship. But when it ends, you will not suffer as much.
We can try this—do it every day. Don’t keep lofty and profound terms on your lips all day long; to practice in this grounded, practical way is true cultivation. Gradually, you will begin to let go of afflictions (kleśa) and attachment. The mind will become clearer and more purified. Then meditation (dhyāna) will naturally deepen, bodhicitta will arise more easily, and even emptiness (śūnyatā) will begin to be experienced.
—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.
