A sudden flash of awareness versus a slow-burning candle: that’s the heart of the difference between direct realization in the Great Perfection and more gradual methods. In Dzogchen, the mind’s pure, luminous nature is already fully awake—no need to piece it together brick by brick. One moment of genuine recognition (trekchö, “cutting through”) reveals rigpa, the natural state, like lifting a fog that’s been hiding the sky all along.

Gradual approaches—think of the classic Lamrim or tantric accumulations—rely on stages: ethical foundations, concentration, insight, deity visualizations, subtle energy work. It’s a bit like training for a marathon: mile after mile of conditioning builds endurance and understanding. Modern mindfulness apps mimic that step-by-step structure, logging minutes, leveling up—progress in neat checkboxes.

Dzogchen throws that roadmap out the window. It’s more akin to morning lightning than evening candlelight: instantaneous, undeniable. Instructions (often transmitted from teacher to student) point directly at the student’s own mind—no detours through elaborate rituals or doctrinal study required. After that initial “pointing out,” practice deepens through maintaining recognition, integrating it into every moment. The emphasis is on natural ease rather than systematic effort.

In today’s fast-paced world, the appeal is obvious: direct realization cuts through the noise, delivering a taste of awakened mind without waiting for years of preparatory work. That doesn’t mean it’s easy—stabilizing that sudden glimpse of rigpa can be more challenging than ticking off daily meditation goals. Just like viral trends on social media, the initial spark grabs attention, but lasting transformation demands familiarizing oneself with that open, spacious quality again and again.

Ultimately, gradual paths and instantaneous transmission both aim at the same summit. Yet Dzogchen’s Great Perfection dares to believe the peak is already underfoot. All that remains is opening the eyes to see it.