How practices work
It is said that the Buddha gave 84,000 different teachings because people need to learn in so many different ways. Different practice traditions take very different approaches, with different goals, causing different results to obtain. There is disagreement on the degree to which the fruits of different practices are the same. This is a bit of the classic lumpers vs. splitter dilemma - there are enough similarities to support lumping awakenings together, but enough differences to support splitting them as well. Regardless, there are certain basic elements to any set of practices that lead to awakening. It’s useful to consider the function of these different elements in order to properly evaluate what kind of path is right for you.
As I was starting to write this, I realized that each of these dimensions could (should) be an essay on its own - so in the coming weeks I will write about them individually. But for now I’m just going to offer an overview.
Attainments / the goal
Do all paths lead to the same goal (perennialism) or does each path lead to a different goal? Are there multiple “enlightenments”? This is hotly debated, but it does seem like different practices lead to different kinds of changes and experiences. And it does also seem like different paths have different ideals and conceptions of what buddha-hood might be. For example, a Theravadan arhat is said to have eliminated all disturbing emotions / desires / suffering. But a tantric perspective might suggest that disturbing emotions can be perfect or can arise as wisdom, and there’s no need to get rid of anything. My Vajrayana teacher would say that the self doesn’t need to be eliminated, for example, and didn’t talk all that much about the end of suffering (but did talk about the flourishing of positive states).
Gradual vs Sudden (direct) paths
Some paths, for example Advaita approaches, emphasize the idea that we are all already enlightened. As a result, there’s literally nothing to do but recognize that fact, and thus elaborate practices may not be needed. That does work for some people, but for most people, a variety of practices that in some sense “build up” to awakening are required. Some people experience changes as gradual; others do things gradually but have a sudden dramatic opening experience.
The importance of concentration
Should practitioners cultivate concentration or is it better to just do so-called insight practices1? Within Theravadan circles, people talk about doing insight practices without cultivating concentration as “Dry Insight”. I’ve also seen a form of this within Tibetan paths. In Opening Awareness (a form of Dzogchen), you don’t try and get really concentrated. The way I was taught, by contrast, you do a period of “concentration with support” (i.e. breath meditation) as a way to stabilize the mind before you do emptiness practices. Proponents of concentration would say that you need stability to be able to discern the nature of mind. They might also say that having more mental unification may prevent some of the “dark night” risks — i.e. that the process of building concentration prevents the insights from causing fear, revulsion, dissociation etc. On the other hand, if you can take a more direct path, it certainly might be faster!
The degree of fabrication in the practice
Most practices have some degree of conceptualization built in. Of course you can read plenty of texts which talk about “bare attention” or “seeing reality for the way it really is”, but the supposed ways reality “really is” are of course concepts. However, the degree to which the conceptual is invoked within practice varies. In Zen style “just sit”, shikantaza “do nothing”, or in opening awareness meditation “remain uninvolved”, there isn’t much explicit fabrication in the practice. By contrast, looking for the three marks of existence (suffering, no-self, impermanence), invoking or merging with deities, looking for emptiness, positing the vastness of the field of awareness etc are all much more constructive in nature. People with a more secular / scientific bent might find less constructive styles a little easier to work with.
The role of the teacher
Is the teacher a coach? A guide? Or something more? To what extent is some kind of direct transmission from the teacher necessary? Does the teacher “point out” the nature of mind? This might be one of the thorniest topics. The student teacher relationship is ripe for abuse (and sadly lots of abuse has happened). Shinzen Young once put it succinctly - shit rises to the top. And yet having a non-ordinary teacher can be an incredible accelerant to practice. In the West we are particular prone to building up teachers and wanting them to be perfect — that can be very dangerous. Is there a happy medium?
How renunciative is it? How does this practice have you engage with the world?
This is a topic that the Evolving Ground folks have discussed extensively. The sutric perspective (which includes Theravadan and some Mahayana), which has historically been grounded in monasticism, can cultivate an attitude of revulsion toward (see: Santideva and the body) and withdrawal from the world. Charlie Awbery/David Chapman have argued that even while some Buddhist Modernists don’t emphasize that aspect of the sutras, it’s baked into the pie. That being said, withdrawal can be very good for some people, particularly those with difficult trauma or addictions. But for many of us the goal of practice is to improve how we show up in the world, heal our relationships, etc.
The use of metta or other heart practices
Most paths put at least some emphasis on cultivating compassion and the other immeasurables. There are even some paths that use heart practices for the entirety of the path! How lovely. Other paths may center these types of meditations less, or teach that these qualities will emerge naturally as other practices are performed. Some teachers also teach that Westerners in particular require some extra heart practices as we are prone to self-hatred.
Very briefly, insight practices take many forms but are largely about gaining an experiential understanding of some characteristic of reality. For example, I might observe experiences until I see they are impermanent (Theravada) or might see them as empty/constructed (Mahayana)