Teaching Without Contending
In 2007 I wrote on Tianya under the pen name "Chai Sheng." In those days my learning and personal cultivation were shallow, and I stirred up many disputes. One netizen, "00 Xiao Hu 00," of great learning and refinement, constantly protected me and guided my writing, advising me on reading and on how to be a person, and filling in my gaps in knowledge.
Seeing me grow troubled by arguments with others, he told me to "teach without contending," that "the speaker speaks on, the listener listens on." At the time I was in my twenties, young and impetuous, vain and competitive. I tried hard to "teach without contending," but could not. Yet those four characters left a deep impression; afterward, every time I began to argue with someone online or in real life—or just afterward—the four characters would rise in my mind.
Since then my life has seen many painful partings and deaths. I myself began to repent of my past faults, and my disposition gradually grew calm, but I still could barely "teach without contending"—though I contended less and less. By now I can basically manage to teach without contending.
Once I was at a meeting at Longquan Temple, presided over by Master Xianshu. As the meeting neared an argument, he kept smiling, and with a calm yet humorous manner reminded everyone not to stir up afflictions. Under his guidance the meeting saw no strife; everyone discussed issues calmly and efficiently.
That meeting let me see how a well-cultivated monk practices teaching without contending. In that meeting I interrupted someone mid-sentence; later, recalling it, I felt ashamed. Though no quarrel erupted, interrupting is impolite and ought not to occur.
Living in this world, it is impossible not to make our voice heard around us. And once we speak, most often some people will express disagreement. Some express it politely, others less so. At such times, should we argue back, or respond gently or silently? This tests one's cultivation.
The fact is that contending does not necessarily change another person's mind, and not contending does not necessarily fail to change it. The strife triggered by "speaking" is sometimes our own fault, sometimes the other's, and sometimes neither side is wrong—they simply stand on different ground.
Another lesson I learned at Longquan Temple was a phrase Master Xuecheng often said: "Have you thought from the other person's side? Since he sees the matter that way, there must be his reasons." Such thinking can quench the strife between people and make one ever more tolerant.
But what truly enabled me to teach without contending was realizing that "one's own faults are like a mountain." In recent years I have often examined my words and deeds and checked my own problems. At first I found a host of issues; gradually I corrected them one by one, and later my words and deeds raised fewer and fewer problems. Since I myself am an imperfect person, I have no standing to demand perfection of others. With this thought, I now rarely "contend" with anyone. When contention arises from my "speaking," if I believe I am not wrong, I go on "speaking without contending." If others eventually accept, so be it; if not, it means we cannot yet establish a truly effective dialogue, and there is no need to force it.
If the other side comes on fiercely, I respond with silence. Since I myself have been fierce in the past, there is no need to be harsh on others. It takes a long time for us to break this bad habit, and it takes others a long time too; we should be generous, trusting that others will one day reach mental maturity.
The Buddha required those who practice the Dharma to keep the precepts and take the precepts as their teacher. The reason is that everyone has various bad "habits," whose deep causes are tied to each person's upbringing and experiences. As the saying goes, it is easier to change a river than a person's nature. To uproot these "habits," one must become aware of them, reflect on one's faults, and then undergo strict precept-training before finally shedding the bad habits. This is no easy task; it requires the combined working of time, life experience, and wisdom learned from many sources.
As the saying goes, like attracts like. The spread of ideas succeeds only when others are willing to accept them; and others are willing, first, because our ideas partly or wholly match their own understanding, and second, because they recognize our learning and are glad to refine and progress with us.
Neither of these depends on contending. Contention only brings afflictions and cannot solve problems. A good friend or teacher always makes one feel as though bathed in gentle spring breeze. The exchange of ideas works better through the "moistening things silently" approach; after all, this is a different matter entirely from fighting over interests.