Everything You Do in a Day Is Working Against Your Longevity

【This "condition" has two kinds. What are the two? The first is a proximate condition, by which one swiftly attains liberation. The second is a distant condition, by which one attains liberation only after a long time.】

These conditions come in two kinds of assistance. Which two? One is the proximate condition—liberation comes quickly, attainment is swift. The other is the distant cause and condition; one attains liberation only after a long time. Speed differs. Since sentient beings carry their own causes, conditions always involve the cause. Without a cause, conditions can only assist—they can't do the work for you. The cause is primary. Whatever root-capacity you have, whatever you call forth in response, then the condition comes in to assist. When the root is already ripe, a single encounter with the condition is enough to bring accomplishment. That's called a proximate cause-and-condition. When the strength of one's wholesome roots isn't yet sufficient, the person is gradually matured through practice—much like our own cultivation here. Only after a long stretch does liberation come. That's called a distant condition, a distant cause-and-condition.

It's a bit like how we study together here—seemingly the same, classmates in one group. Say we have fifty people in this class. There's always someone who comes in first, and always someone who comes in last. You can't have all fifty in first place, nor can you have all fifty falling behind—there's bound to be unevenness. The unevenness of causes, the unevenness of conditions, and how things unfold afterward—all different too.

Look at our typical classmates once they're out in the world. Those who manage to grow rich and honored on their own, whose careers truly take off, are usually not the ones who ranked first in school. You can look back at your own old classmates!

Often the one who never paid attention in class, who was rowdy and mischievous, not a "good student"—once out in society he's completely transformed. The one who got expelled goes on to build a real enterprise. The old bookworm who always came first turns out to be useless in society, and his whole life just stays stuck that way.

What does this illustrate? That speed differs. Even the conditions that advance the Buddhas' work come about through conditions. Even those who don't believe in Buddhism—once they enter society, they still have their causes and conditions at play. The cause may be, say, building a career, but they have to meet the right condition. Without that condition, it won't work. The same effort, the same trade—in reality the outcomes just aren't the same.

Take a disciple of mine, for example. He makes shoes in Shenzhen; he's the older brother. His younger brother is right next door in Guangzhou Panyu. The factories are alike; the shoemaking techniques are all the same. Back in Taiwan the two brothers worked together. Once they came to the mainland, they split up, each running his own factory. In the past their work was identical, but the blessings and the way they go about things are no longer the same.

Eventually one had to close his doors—he couldn't keep it going. The other grew huge and kept expanding. The conditions differ. The external conditions differ, and so do the underlying causes. One has deep faith in the Three Jewels; the other deeply slanders the Three Jewels. It's not that "believing in Buddhism is simply better"—that's not what I mean. In any case, faith in Buddhism always carries a power of blessing. Those willing to give, willing to let go, are able to receive. Those who refuse to let go can't receive anything at all. Give, and you receive; let go, and you gain. Only by letting go do you receive. If you won't let go, what will you receive? That's just how it works by worldly standards.

The same principle holds for the Dharma that goes beyond the world. The Buddha-Dharma is in the world; awakening is not apart from the world. Causes and conditions are sometimes near, sometimes far. In cultivation there is diligence, and there is laziness.

Take the causes and conditions you have at Pushou Temple compared with the causes and conditions at some small monastery out there, or at a certain temple in Shanghai—I'm not going to name it, but it's also a bhikshuni monastery. They aren't the same. If someone there wants to do Buddhist work, and then later, when the time comes to aspire for Buddhahood, they want to cultivate renunciation of the world, the path will be long. At Pushou Temple there are no such external conditions at all. That's one kind of situation.

Everyone wants to live long. What's the point of living longer? To cultivate the Way? If so, then having a bit more time to cultivate is a good thing. Look at it this way: a person wants to live long, yet what he does day after day is the very opposite of longevity.

I used to tell many of my dharma friends in Taipei—my disciples who've taken refuge with me—"If you want to live a bit longer, just look at what you do all day: nothing that supports longevity. Say you put in an eight-hour shift; you're already worn out. Once you're off the clock, it's your own time—but off you go to the bar, the teahouse, the dance hall, carousing until eleven, midnight, one or two in the morning. Then you come home and barely sleep, and the next day you're back at it. How could that possibly bring longevity? You're burning through far too much. On one hand you want to live long; on the other you go out and exhaust yourself. How could that possibly bring longevity?"

Here at Pushou Temple, this is how you live long. Why? Because we don't engage with any external conditions. Even though we sit through several sessions a day, the load is contained—and the physical toll stays small.