The Foolish Can Attain Arhatship; The Wise Cannot Escape the Three Evil Realms

Cūḍapanthaka's consciousness was exceedingly dull; he could not retain even a single sentence of Buddhist doctrine. His thinking power was extremely weak, incapable of reasoning, organizing, summarizing, generalizing, analyzing, or comparing. Yet, why did merely observing the breath at the nostrils enable him to attain the fourth fruition of Arhatship? Throughout history, both in the East and West, literary figures have exhaustively studied the Tripitaka, producing numerous writings, with poetry and verses brimming with eloquent expressions. Yet, why is there no trace of realization? The Dharma does not lie in speaking, nor in intellectual understanding, nor in the elegance or charm of literary expressions. What truly matters is practical application; only that which can be genuinely applied constitutes the path of Buddha. It is like eating an apple: putting it in your mouth, swallowing it into your stomach, and filling your belly is the greatest benefit. This is far more practical than researching apples or writing award-winning papers about them.

Cūḍapanthaka, being so foolish and ignorant of theory, found that during the observation of the breath, the various meritorious functions of consciousness were essentially rendered unusable. While engaged in this contemplative practice, he could not resort to clever shortcuts. He could not analyze the momentary arising and ceasing of the breath and all conditioned phenomena, nor their nature of suffering, emptiness, impermanence, and non-self. He could not infer the non-self of all conditioned phenomena or the non-self of the five aggregates. This very inability conveniently bypassed the intellectual reasoning and conceptual understanding of consciousness, allowing the functional role of the mental faculty (manas) to be fully exerted. As a result, he not only eradicated the view of self but directly realized the fourth fruition of Arhatship. This clearly shows that the ultimate realization in the Dharma is not achieved through effort applied to the conscious mind. Not understanding theory is not a problem; as long as the method and direction of practice are correct, and one can diligently cultivate, it is still possible to attain enlightenment.

In contrast, those theorists and researchers who have exhaustively studied the Tripitaka and possess vast learning can only exert effort within the realm of consciousness. Despite their eloquence, ornate rhetoric, widespread admiration, glorious reputation, and illustrious fame, they ultimately gain nothing. Where they seem to gain is precisely where they lose. Take Su Dongpo, for example: no matter how much he understood the Dharma or how many insights he had, his actual realization was utterly inadequate. The habits of literati are serious hindrances to the path, difficult to overcome. All worldly skills like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting are hindrances to the path. Yet, worldly people take pride in these, which is truly inverted. Shouldn't those students who are fond of theory and crave intellectual acquisition reflect deeply on this?