Buddhism is like an immense mountain

with 84,000 paths leading to the peak.

Choose—and remain on—that path. 

To attain the summit of a mountain in the most effective manner, climbers choose one route. Depending on their abilities, some might prefer a more cautious approach, others a more challenging one. Having chosen the route, they don’t deviate. They do not keep sampling different ones, or they would end up touring the mountain instead of climbing it, thus wasting time and energy.

Our practice is the same. With the summit of enlightenment as our goal, we choose the path that best suits our conditions and abilities. Like the climbers, we too need to stick to our chosen route. Taking our eyes off our goal, we can become enthralled by another path. “It looks easier!” “It looks more challenging!” “I’ll try it!”

Enamored of sampling different options, we will end up circling the mountain having lost sight of our goal to reach enlightenment.

Strive to detect thoughts the instant

they arise, before speaking or acting.

Our thoughts occur with incredible speed and subtlety, and in staggering numbers.

As we begin to watch them, it seems they amble through one after another. We then peer more closely. No, wait a minute; our thoughts are more like thousands of first-graders in a school auditorium all shouting “Me! Me!”

Just as their dazed teacher calls on the loudest student, we go with the most noticeable thought. Without thinking, we act on it and sow a karmic result. At the same time, our other thoughts are also planting future results. Incredibly slight, but results nonetheless.

Our thoughts, imperceptible or unmissable, are vibrations and as such will have consequences, imperceptible or unmissable. Just as that teacher could calm her students by having them focus, momentarily at least, on their favorite ice cream, we too can gain control over our actions and results by focusing on “Amituofo.”

Hopefully, all the time.

Not having wandering thoughts does not mean not thinking.

Having focused on our task,

we do not dwell on it, lingering over failures or successes. 

Hearing we should desist from wandering thoughts might sound like we should avoid all thinking. Not so. Wandering thoughts refers to incorrect thoughts, not all thoughts. Having a task, we need to consider how best to accomplish it. And so we have correct thoughts. If others criticize how we did the task, we need to weigh the criticism. Was it valid? Or irrelevant? More correct thoughts.

But what if we keep replaying the criticism as if it were a favorite movie? We’re right back at immaterial, wandering thoughts. Why? Reminiscing about successes depletes our good fortune. Recalling failures plants the wrong kind of seeds: embarrassment, guilt, anger. Either way, we end up not paying attention to our current tasks. So, do not linger on the past.

Learn from it; then move on so you can focus increasingly on correct thoughts. 

Whatever the situation,

adverse or favorable, remain balanced

in your Buddha-name chanting:

unwavering and determined. 

Lurching first in one direction and then another, our mind, jolted from its clear and natural state, becomes distracted and agitated. This lamentable state is where we spend much, if not all, of our time. The mental state we seek is to remain steadfast and undisturbed.

When praised, we do not become proud or disdainful.

Hearing others criticize us, we do not feel offended or defensive.

Finding things working out as hoped for, we do not attach or feel arrogant.

Encountering situations not planned for, we do not worry or doubt the teachings.

How can we attain such balance? Every time we notice a distraction—good or bad—we return to the Buddha-name. This returning is our practice. The more we practice, the more proficient we become, whether we’re participating in a sport or playing an instrument. Or chanting the Buddha’s name.

Before teaching others,

we should first cultivate ourselves.

Having some success in cultivation,

our behavior will precede our words. 

Having discovered something new and intriguing, we usually can’t wait to tell others about our latest discovery.

Take newly hearing about Buddhism for example. Wanting to share with others what we just learned is understandable. But if we cannot yet do something how can we explain it to others? If we do not yet find a lessening of our anger and a sense of calmness through the practice, how can we teach others to be more patient? If we speak of letting go of worry and fear but are often anxious, how can we convince others Buddhist practice will help them worry less?

When we try to teach something before we can do it, others will resist us. Understandably so. When we have progressed in our cultivation, our behavior will reflect our growth. Others will view us as experienced and trustworthy. And we will be qualified to teach.