Not long ago, I visited a nearby beach where two stone-paved paths stretched into the sea. They looked like jetties from afar—solid, symmetrical extensions into the water. But as I approached, I noticed the stones were of all shapes and sizes, unevenly stacked, far from the smooth walkway they had appeared to be. Many people walked along this path of rocks to fish further out.
Among them was a group of young men preparing to cross. A few of them moved swiftly and effortlessly across the uneven stones, as if walking on flat ground. But one of them—a tall, strong young man—fell behind. Despite his strength, he moved by crouching low, using both hands and feet to cautiously make his way from stone to stone. His progress was slow and deliberate.
So what does this scene have to do with today’s topic?
This is the very nature of “discernment”—or more precisely, the mind of separation.
Those who seemed to walk effortlessly had their full attention on where to step. The cautious young man, on the other hand, had his focus fixed on the gaps between the stones, fearing a fall. One focuses on stability, the other on danger. Neither is inherently better than the other. One overlooks risk, the other magnifies it.
Our discriminating mind (分别心) is shaped by all the experiences—both from this life and past lives—that lead us to interpret situations in a particular way. The same applies to how we view life events.
For instance, many people love money, but not all of them love to make money. Some people have a natural eye for opportunity—they see potential in the smallest details of everyday life. With a bit of action, they seize those chances. But others, though they also love money, often overlook these same opportunities. Even when they do notice them, they focus more on the risks than the possibilities, and hesitate to move forward.
Another example: people with obsessive cleanliness might often say, “How can you not see how dirty this is?” And socially sensitive individuals may spend hours analyzing someone’s words or a fleeting glance.
All of this stems from discernment—our inner judgment mechanism. This is why it’s said that dreams are created by the mind. Now, if someone we meet has a discernment pattern that conflicts with ours, we may experience that relationship as full of tension or discomfort—a karmic challenge. But if their discernment complements or harmonizes with ours, it feels like a karmic blessing, and the relationship flows with ease.
I’ve often seen people in difficulty ask, “Why me? Why is my life so hard?”
In deep meditation, I once heard a voice say:
"The Buddha will not save you."
At first, it sounded hopeless. But it led me to ask:
Is life truly handing us a series of problems?
Or have we built ourselves a prison we can’t escape?
Where did things go wrong?
I hope more people can take time to reflect on this.
So, does understanding how the discriminating mind works allow us to live as we please?
Can we manifest anything we want just by managing our discernment?The answer is no.
This is why it’s said:
"The sea of suffering has no end; only by turning back can one reach the shore."
All events arise through the interplay of many causes and conditions—not a simple, linear logic. While understanding certain patterns might help us get what we want in one chapter of our life story, every discernment gives rise to its own karmic fruits. These fruits, in turn, become seeds for other events. The cycle repeats endlessly.
Imagine someone who has cultivated blessings over lifetimes, and another who has committed great harm. When both are born into the same life, the one with blessings begins to spend their good karma, while the other begins to repay debts. One subtracts, the other adds—yet both are moving toward zero.
But as long as discernment continues to operate, they’ll keep adding and subtracting—trapped in the mechanics of karma. Of course, in reality, the karmic dynamics are far more complex than this. Every event is the convergence of multiple intertwined causes.
As spiritual seekers, can we ever find balance within the workings of discernment?Perhaps. But not for long.
Why? Because our mind is always in motion. Everything arises and ceases in an instant. That’s why we must learn to let go of appearances (离相).
When we cannot understand how something functions, we must first pause and observe—especially the parts we’ve always overlooked.
As I’ve shared in previous teachings, the first step is simply to observe without judgment.
To raise our awareness without reacting.
Because we are all the same—a blend of good and bad, light and shadow.
Ultimately, good and evil are products of discernment.
When many people desire something, it becomes divine.
When many people fear it, it becomes demonic.
If we continue to judge through the lens of discernment, we will only become more entangled in a web of confusion. What we need is to step outside the narrative, to pause before discernment arises.
Only then, when we truly see, can we begin to realize that we are dreaming.
And that’s the moment we may start to wake up.
Discernment is a curious thing.
It creates every unique version of "me," and every unique story we live.
But it also builds the inescapable city each of us lives inside.
To see through the tricks of the discriminating mind isn’t about analyzing it to find some secret formula.
It’s about learning to pause before it arises, to see it in its entirety.
Only then can we begin to find a way out.