Traveling through time and space.

Chapter 8: Deepening into the Land of No Seeking and No Observing - "When the Mind Enters the Realm of Silence, Attachment to the Environment Grows Dangerously"

In the sacred and solemn temple of ancient India, the sunlight shines through the mottled leaves onto the quiet courtyard. I continue to hone myself in the state of practice of no seeking and only observing. Time passes slowly, and I finally reach the state of no seeking and no observing.

When I enter this state, it's as if the entire world has been muted, the inner clamor completely hushed. Sitting quietly in my meditation room, everything around me seems to vanish, only an endless wave of tranquility and joy overwhelms me like a tide. Each breath becomes subtle, almost imperceptible, as if merging with the rhythm of the universe. In this deep silence, I feel an unprecedented sense of liberation, as if I've broken free from all worldly constraints, my mind so light it seems to float.

One day, I was strolling with a few fellow practitioners in the temple garden. Flowers blossomed in profusion, their fragrance lingering faintly in the air. Immersed in a profound state of tranquility, my lips curled up unconsciously, revealing my inner joy. At that moment, my good friend Ananda keenly noticed my state. He approached me, gently patted my shoulder, his eyes tinged with worry and concern. "Brother, you seem a little attached to this unseen, unobserved state." His voice, though soft, resonated like a bell in my ears, instantly jarring me from my ecstatic bliss.

I was startled, as if a fire within me had been doused with cold water. I began to reflect on myself. Indeed, while enjoying this tranquility and joy, I had gradually developed an inextricable attachment, a desire to remain in this wonderful state forever. This was undoubtedly a form of greed, and it violated the very purpose of spiritual practice. I looked at Ananda with gratitude and said, "Brother, thanks to your timely warning, I almost went astray."

After this awakening, I became more mindful of my inner self in my practice. At a large Dharma gathering organized by a temple, numerous practitioners gathered, their eyes filled with a thirst for Buddhist wisdom. I stood before them and shared my insights after reaching the state of no seeking, no seeking. I recounted how I grasped the subtleties of the Dharma in silence, and how I was pulled back to the right path by fellow practitioners when I was on the verge of attachment. I hoped to provide inspiration and reference for everyone. The practitioners in the audience listened attentively, sometimes nodding, sometimes lost in thought.

However, within this seemingly peaceful life of practice, new complications were quietly brewing. A highly respected elder in the temple, responsible for managing important temple affairs and resource allocation, had a trusted disciple named Kasyapa. Kasyapa had long been jealous of my practice, feeling that I was stealing the limelight and acclaim that should have belonged to him.

Once, the temple acquired a treasure trove of valuable spiritual texts, invaluable for the in-depth study of the Dharma. The elder entrusted me with the responsibility of preserving and organizing these texts, believing that my spiritual advancement would allow me to handle them properly. This action incurred strong dissatisfaction from Kasyapa. When he encountered me in the temple's corridors, his eyes were filled with hostility: "How could you have been given such a prestigious position? You're nothing but a smooth talker, trying to please everyone." Although I felt a little frustrated, I calmly responded, "Junior Brother Kasyapa, the elder's arrangement has its own profound meaning. I am simply doing my best to serve the temple and the practice."

But Kasyapa refused to give up. He began secretly spreading rumors within the temple, claiming that I had strayed from the path of practice, that my so-called insights were false, and that my goal was to gain personal gain and status. These rumors gradually spread, and some practitioners, unaware of the truth, began to doubt and distance themselves from me. I noticed the change in attitudes around me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss and resentment. But I quickly adjusted my mindset, realizing that this was yet another test on my spiritual journey.

Faced with these misunderstandings and slanders, I didn't respond angrily. Instead, I delved deeper into my own heart. In meditation, I pondered why there were so many obstacles and entanglements on the path of practice. Was it the cycle of karma, or was there something missing in my own practice? I realized that these external disturbances were actually tests of my inner strength. Only by maintaining inner purity and faith in the Dharma could I remain unmoved.

Meanwhile, my relationship with that brilliant female practitioner also faced new challenges in this complex environment. As I faced difficulties within the temple, I worried that her closeness to me might implicate her. Yet, she remained steadfast by my side. In a corner of the temple, she whispered comfortingly, "Brother, don't let these external events disturb your mind. I believe in your practice and character." Her words flowed through my heart like a warm current, but my inner struggle continued.

I fully understood the delicate nature of this relationship within the broader context of spiritual practice. I didn't want to hurt her, but I also worried that my feelings would interfere with my practice. In countless inner conversations, I constantly examined this feeling with the wisdom of Buddhism, trying to find a balance. I began to transform my feelings for her into an extension of my love for all sentient beings, viewing her as a fellow practitioner and supporter on the spiritual path, like two bright lights illuminating each other in the darkness.

In this unsought-after, unsought-after spiritual practice, I struggled forward through inner contemplation and awareness. I had to overcome my attachment to realms, navigate interpersonal disputes and misunderstandings within the temple, and properly manage my inner emotional turmoil. But I remained steadfast in my belief that, guided by the Dharma, with unwavering faith and unremitting effort, I could pierce through the myriad obstacles and steadily advance toward a higher state of spiritual practice. Just like holding the helm in a turbulent sea, I sailed toward the bright shore, exploring the deeper realms of the Yogacarabhumi Sutra, comprehending and applying the true meaning of spiritual practice in every aspect of my life.

As the days passed, the temple welcomed its annual retreat. During this period, practitioners would retreat into solitary meditation within their own rooms, deeply exploring the mysteries of Buddhism. Eager to break free from my current predicament, I entered the retreat room. In that small, silent space, I recited scriptures daily and meditated deeply, attempting to find, in solitude, answers to my inner struggles and spiritual bottlenecks.

Every time I recite the sutras, I feel like I'm in conversation with ancient sages. Their wisdom, like a gentle stream, nourishes my parched heart. During the retreat, I gained a deeper understanding of the state of non-seeking and non-stalking. I realized that greed isn't just about the pursuit of material things or glory; clinging to the spiritual realm itself is equally dangerous. This attachment can trap me in a self-satisfaction trap, hindering my further advancement.

As for my conflict with Kasyapa, I began to forgive his jealousy and slander from the bottom of my heart. I understood that his actions stemmed from his inner unease and confusion about spiritual practice. In my meditation, I silently prayed for him, hoping that he would soon find his own spiritual path and let go of his resentment.

During the retreat, I also gained new insights into my relationship with the female practitioner. I no longer viewed it as an obstacle to my practice, but rather as a unique opportunity. Through my time with her, I learned how to maintain clarity in my emotions and how to approach others with the compassion and wisdom of the Dharma. I decided that after the retreat, I would have a candid conversation with her to explore how we can support each other on our spiritual path without violating the precepts of the Dharma.

Finally, the retreat ended. As I emerged from the meditation room, the sun glared, blinding me. I saw my fellow practitioners in the temple, each experiencing fruitful spiritual progress. Their faces radiated tranquility and peace. I approached Kasyapa and offered him a greeting. He looked at me with some surprise, but the hostility in his eyes gradually faded. I smiled and said, "Brother Kasyapa, may we advance together on the path of spiritual practice." He nodded slightly, remaining silent, but I could sense the touch of his heart.

I also found the female practitioner, and we arrived in the temple garden. I looked into her eyes and said sincerely, "Junior sister, you are my most important connection on this spiritual journey. We should uphold the wisdom of the Dharma and let this relationship serve as a support for our practice, not a hindrance." Tears welled in her eyes, and she gently grasped my hand, "Junior brother, I wish to journey forward with you."

After this series of experiences and inner growth, I know I've taken a significant step forward in my practice of the Unseen and Unsurpassed. But I also understand that the road ahead is still long, with many more realms, practices, and fruits awaiting exploration and realization. With this unwavering faith, I will continue on this path of practice, filled with challenges and opportunities, writing my own chapter, fully embodying the wisdom of the Yogacarabhumi Sutra in every detail of my life and practice, like a star diligently shining its light in the vast starry sky, illuminating the path forward for those who come after me.