
During ascetic practices, I begin to sense the nature of my spiritual state of mind. Fasting serves as a method for cutting through greed, aversion, and ignorance. As ignorance diminishes, desire decreases, and the mind settles into greater harmony and stillness. A cemetery or burial ground, for instance, is an extremely quiet place—nothing in the graves comes out to disturb you, and no one else comes to make noise. Living among graves brings a deep insight: it is through suffering that we are able to renounce desire. When one is confronted with death on a daily basis, one’s desires naturally subside. After all, human beings are largely driven by desire—without it, would we still wish to live? Is that really the case?
When I lived in the burial ground, all desires were reduced to their bare minimum. In that state, I could observe what my spiritual state of mind was like when entirely free from desire. It is through such experiences that one gradually deepens and enhances the spiritual dimension of being. Only then can one speak meaningfully about spirituality. Otherwise, how could one speak of it? After all, we are all fundamentally the same—where would one even begin? Reading texts often leads to forgetting, and rote memorization feels unnatural. But because I have gone through this process myself, I don’t need to rely on books or memory. I simply share my experiences deriving from spiritual practice. Once I have reached a certain level of experience, I can then speak about it to others.