This mind has long been conditioned—trained to turn away from pure awareness and spin outward, creating mental fabrications that, in turn, shape and influence it further. This cycle of proliferation gives rise to everything—good, evil, and all that exists in between. The Buddha taught that we must abandon it all. But first, we must familiarise ourselves with these patterns so that, in time, we can let them go. This is a natural process. The mind functions this way, and psychological factors follow suit.
The Buddha also taught that the mind has no true substance—it is not inherently anything. It is not born belonging to anyone, nor does it die belonging to anyone. The mind is free, radiant, and unburdened in its natural state. Problems arise only because the mind becomes entangled in conditioned things, deceived by the illusion of self. This is why the Buddha urged us to observe the mind directly. At its core, what is truly there? Nothing. It does not arise with conditioned things or perish with them. When it encounters something good, it does not become good. When it meets something bad, it does not turn bad. When there is clear insight, we see that all of this is inherently empty—without substance, without self.
To truly experience the fruits of practice, we must look inward and deeply into our hearts. Trying to analyse the mind through countless discrete moments of consciousness and their characteristics does not take the practice far enough. There is something much deeper to uncover. If we are to study the mind, we must do so with absolute clarity, direct experience, and profound understanding.
Whenever a mood or emotion arises, we should examine it through the lens of impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and selflessness. Reflect, investigate, and observe. Notice how emotions are almost always accompanied by excessive thinking—wherever a mood leads, thoughts follow, trailing behind endlessly. Thinking reacts to and feeds off our moods, creating a cycle that continues without end. But when wisdom is present, it brings the mind to stillness. The mind stops wandering. It remains steady, simply knowing and acknowledging each experience as it arises: when this emotion appears, the mind is like this; when that mood arises, it is like that. We sustain this awareness.
At some point, realisation dawns: All this thinking—this restless chatter, this worrying and judging—is just noise. It is insubstantial, impermanent, and not truly me or mine. Place it into one of these three universal categories, and let it go. Cut it off at the root.
Of course, when we return to meditation, it will surface again. That’s its nature. Keep watching. Stay vigilant. Observe it as if you were a spy tracking its every move.
And yet, this knowing mind is also part of the mind—so who is observing the mind? Such questions can be perplexing. The mind is one thing, the knowing another, yet the knowing arises from this very same mind. What does it mean to truly know the mind? What is it like to experience moods and emotions? And what is it like when the mind is free from all negative emotions? The awareness that recognises these states is what we call the “knowing.” This knowing follows the movements of the mind, and from it, wisdom is born.
The mind thinks, reacts, and becomes entangled in emotions, one after another. When a feeling arises and the mind clings to it, the knowing must step in to correct with wisdom and compassion. Observe—does this mood bring benefit or harm? See how cause and effect operate. When the mind grasps at something it finds alluring, the knowing must again intervene, explaining the impermanent nature of all things until the mind finally lets go. This is the path to peace.
Over time, the mind recognises that everything it clings to is inherently unsatisfactory. Eventually, it stops grasping, weary of being repeatedly corrected with wisdom and compassion. In our online workshop, teacher Xie constantly reminds us that correcting our minds is part of the practice. With unwavering resolve, challenge the mind’s cravings and false views. Confront them fully. Let the teachings sink deep into the heart—until wisdom takes root and transformation unfolds.
Why is training necessary? Because the heart is covered, layer upon layer, of obscurations. Like smudges on a mirror. A heart that has not been refined through practice is unreliable—so don’t trust it. It has yet to be purified, yet to be made clear. How can we place faith in something still clouded by impurities?
At first, the heart merely serves impurities, like a hired hand. Th natural heart has been polluted. But over time, if left unchecked, it becomes so entangled that it becomes the impurity itself. This is why the Buddha cautioned us: never trust a heart that remains untrained and impure.
Practice with unwavering dedication! But, try not to overthink. If you’re meditating and notice yourself forcing specific outcomes, stop. When the mind settles into peace and you start wondering, Is this it? Is this what I’m looking for?—just stop. Take all your theoretical and analytical knowledge, wrap it up, and set it aside. Don’t pull it out for debate or discussion because that kind of knowledge doesn’t lead to deep insight.
Direct experience is entirely different from written descriptions. Take sensual desire, for example—you can write the words, but when desire floods the heart, no text can capture its intensity. The same goes for anger. You can spell it out on a blackboard, but when anger takes hold, no written word can match the reality. In those moments, the mind doesn’t have time to process letters and definitions—it is completely consumed by the experience itself.
We don’t have to concern ourselves with psychological process or theories—simply observe the quality of knowing. When a thought of hate arises ask, Why? When a thought of love appears, think, Why? This is the path to awakening
Focus on this single point until you can dissolve feelings of love and hate completely—until they no longer take hold in the heart. When we reached a point where neither love nor hate can arise under any circumstance, we transcended suffering. At that moment, whatever happens, the heart and mind remain free, at peace. Nothing lingering—everything has come to a complete stop.
Virtue, concentration, and wisdom are the essential pillars of spiritual development, each playing a vital role in transforming the mind and leading us toward greater peace and insight.
Virtue is the foundation. It’s the moral conduct that guides us to live harmoniously with others and ourselves. Practicing virtue means living with integrity, kindness, and compassion, which cultivates a mind that is free from harmful influences. Without virtue, the mind is clouded by selfish desires, anger, and greed, making it impossible to develop the clarity needed for wisdom. Virtue helps to purify the heart, making it a fertile ground for both concentration and wisdom to take root.
Concentration is the next step. It is the ability to focus the mind, free from distraction, and direct it toward a single object of meditation or awareness. With concentration, the mind becomes still and sharp, allowing us to see things clearly. This steadiness of mind is necessary to cultivate insight, as without concentration, the mind will continue to scatter, preventing us from understanding the deeper truths of life. Concentration brings inner peace, and through that peace, we are able to fully observe the nature of our thoughts, emotions, and experiences without being swept away by them.
Wisdom arises naturally when virtue and concentration are developed. It is the ability to see things as they truly are, without distortion or attachment. Wisdom is the insight into the impermanent, unsatisfactory, and selfless nature of all things—fleeting pleasures. We can enjoy fleeting pleasure. We don’t become life-denying or anihilistic, but we must continue to liberate the heart. With wisdom, we are able to discern the root causes of suffering and recognise the path to liberation. It is wisdom that allows us to let go of attachments, release our desires, and free ourselves from the cycle of suffering.
Together, these three practices—virtue, concentration, and wisdom—form the complete path to spiritual growth. They are interdependent; virtue supports concentration, concentration supports wisdom, and wisdom deepens virtue. Only by developing all three can we hope to transform our hearts and minds, leading us to greater peace, understanding, and freedom.