Feed on
Posts
Comments

Devotion

In my last posts I have been writing about how to find lasting happiness. Ultimately it can only be found if we recognize the nature of mind but on a relative level the practices of meditation, compassion and devotion can help us come closer to this realization.

I already posted passage on meditation and compassion from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche. Here is  a collection of short passage on devotion from the same book:

Buddha said: “It is only through devotion, and devotion alone, that you will realize the absolute truth.”

“The absolute truth cannot be realized within the domain of the ordinary mind. And the path beyond the ordinary mind, all the great wisdom traditions have told us, is through the heart. This path of the heart is devotion.” (p.139)

“Real devotion .. is not mindless adoration; it is not abdication of your responsibility to yourself, nor undiscriminating following of another’s personality or whim. Real devotion is an unbroken receptivity to the truth. Real devotion is rooted in an awed and reverent gratitude, but one that is lucid, grounded, and intelligent.” (p.140)

“All the buddhas, bodhisattvas, and enlightened beings are present at all moments to help us, and it is through the presence of the master that all of their blessings are focused directly at us. Those who know Padmasambhava [who is considered to be the second Buddha by Tibetans] know the living truth of the promise he made over a thousand years ago: “I am never far from those with faith, or even from those without it, though they do not see me. My children will always, always, be protected by my compassion.”

All we need to do to receive direct help is to ask. Didn’t Christ also say: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. Everyone that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth”? And yet asking is what we find hardest. Many of us, I feel, hardly know how to ask. Sometimes it is because we are arrogant, sometimes because we are unwilling to seek help, sometimes because we are lazy, sometimes our minds are so busy with questions, distractions, and confusion that the simplicity of asking does not occur to us. The turning point in any healing of alcoholics or drug addicts is when they admit their illness and ask for aid. In one way or another, we are all addicts of samsara; the moment when help can come for us is when we admit our addiction and simply ask.

Jikmé Gyalwé Nyugu (1765–1843) was one of the foremost disciples of Jikmé Lingpa and a teacher of Patrul Rinpoche.

What most of us need, almost more than anything, is the courage and humility really to ask for help, from the depths of our hearts: to ask for the compassion of the enlightened beings, to ask for purification and healing, to ask for the power to understand the meaning of our suffering and transform it; at a relative level to ask for the growth in our lives of clarity, of peace, of discernment, and to ask for the realization of the absolute nature of mind … ”

Devotion becomes the purest, quickest, and simplest way to realize the nature of our mind and all things. …

The teacher of Patrul Rinpoche was called Jikmé Gyalwé Nyugu. For many years he had been doing a solitary retreat in a cave in the mountains. One day when he came outside, the sun was pouring down; he gazed out into the sky and saw a cloud moving in the direction of where his master, Jikmé Lingpa, lived. The thought rose in his mind, “Over there is where my master is,” and with that thought a tremendous feeling of longing and devotion surged up in him. It was so strong, so shattering, that he fainted. When Jikmé Gyalwé Nyugu came to, the entire blessing of his master’s wisdom mind had been transmitted to him, and he had reached the highest stage of realization, what we call “the exhaustion of phenomenal reality.” (p.142-143)

Bringing the Mind Home

In my last post I wrote that ultimate true happiness can only be found if we recognize the nature of mind but that on a relative level the practices of meditation, compassion and devotion can help us come closer to this realization.

Last time I already posted a passage on compassion from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche. Here is one of my favorite passages on meditation from the same book:

“Over 2,500 years ago, a man who had been searching for the truth for many, many lifetimes came to a quiet place in northern India and sat down under a tree. He continued to sit under the tree, with immense resolve, and vowed not to get up until he had found the truth. At dusk, it is said, he conquered all the dark forces of delusion; and early the next morning, as the star Venus broke in the dawn sky, the man was rewarded for his age-long patience, discipline, and flawless concentration by achieving the final goal of human existence, enlightenment. At that sacred moment, the earth itself shuddered, as if “drunk with bliss,” and as the scriptures tell us, “No one anywhere was angry, ill, or sad; no one did evil, none was proud; the world became quite quiet, as though it had reached full perfection.” This man became known as the Buddha. Here is the Vietnamese master Thich Nhat Hanh’s beautiful description of the Buddha’s enlightenment:

Buddha Shakyamuni

Gautama felt as though a prison which had confined him for thousands of lifetimes had broken open. Ignorance had been the jailkeeper. Because of ignorance, his mind had been obscured, just like the moon and stars hidden by the storm clouds. Clouded by endless waves of deluded thoughts, the mind had falsely divided reality into subject and object, self and others, existence and non-existence, birth and death, and from these discriminations arose wrong views–the prisons of feelings, craving, grasping, and becoming. The suffering of birth, old age, sickness, and death only made the prison walls thicker. The only thing to do was to seize the jailkeeper and see his true face. The jailkeeper was ignorance. . . .  Once the jailkeeper was gone, the jail would disappear and never be rebuilt again.

What the Buddha saw was that ignorance of our true nature is the root of all the torment of samsara, and the root of ignorance itself is our mind’s habitual tendency to distraction. To end the mind’s distraction would be to end samsara itself; the key to this, he realized, is to bring the mind home to its true nature, through the practice of meditation.

The Buddha sat in serene and humble dignity on the ground, with the sky above him and around him, as if to show us that in meditation you sit with an open, sky-like attitude of mind, yet remain present, earthed, and grounded. The sky is our absolute nature, which has no barriers and is boundless, and the ground is our reality, our relative, ordinary condition. The posture we take when we meditate signifies that we are linking absolute and relative, sky and ground, heaven and earth, like two wings of a bird, integrating the sky-like deathless nature of mind and the ground of our transient, mortal nature.

The gift of learning to meditate is the greatest gift you can give yourself in this life. For it is only through meditation that you can undertake the journey to discover your true nature, and so find the stability and confidence you will need to live, and die, well. Meditation is the road to enlightenment.” (p.57-58)

Many Buddhist teachings begin with the statement that all beings want to be happy, but that unfortunately they are looking for happiness outside and fail to understand that true happiness can only be found inside. The goal of Buddhist practice is to find a deeper happiness which is based on inner peace and contentment. This peace is not something we can obtain or get. It arises naturally when we know ourselves. So it is just a question of getting rid of what obscures our innate capacity to know. It is about awakening from being lost in the appearances and activities of our mind. Sometimes this is spoken of a new level of consciousness. Mind is waking up to its natural, pure, open and self-aware being.

While ultimately this natural great peace arises from the recognition of our true nature, the nature of mind, the teachings explains that on a relative level there are practices that bring us closer to this are meditation, compassion and devotion.

Whatever topic I am reflecting on, I always find that The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche seems to be an inexhaustible source of inspiring passages on every imaginable topic of the Buddhist teachings. Here is a passage that explains wonderfully how compassion can help us find real happiness:

“The logic of compassion
We all feel and know something of the benefits of compassion. But the particular strength of the Buddhist teaching is that it shows you clearly a “logic” of compassion. Once you have grasped it, this logic makes your practice of compassion at once more urgent and all-embracing, and more stable and grounded, because it is based on the clarity of a reasoning whose truth becomes ever more apparent as you pursue and test it.

We may say, and even half-believe, that compassion is marvelous, but in practice our actions are deeply uncompassionate and bring us and others mostly frustration and distress, and not the happiness we are all seeking.

Isn’t it absurd, then, that we all long for happiness, yet nearly all our actions and feelings lead us directly away from that happiness? Could there be any greater sign that our whole view of what real happiness is, and of how to attain it, is radically flawed?

What do we imagine will make us happy? A canny, selfseeking, resourceful selfishness, the selfish protection of ego, which can, as we all know, make us at moments extremely brutal. But in fact the complete reverse is true: Self-grasping and self-cherishing are seen, when you really look at them, to be the root of all harm to others, and also of all harm to ourselves.1

Every single negative thing we have ever thought or done has ultimately arisen from our grasping at a false self, and our cherishing of that false self, making it the dearest and most important element in our lives. All those negative thoughts, emotions, desires, and actions that are the cause of our negative karma are engendered by self-grasping and self-cherishing. They are the dark, powerful magnet that attracts to us, life after life, every obstacle, every misfortune, every anguish, every disaster, and so they are the root cause of all the sufferings of samsara.

Sogyal Rinpoche with his master Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö

When we have really grasped the law of karma in all its stark power and complex reverberations over many, many lifetimes, and seen just how our self-grasping and self-cherishing, life after life, have woven us repeatedly into a net of ignorance that seems only to be ensnaring us more and more tightly; when we have really understood the dangerous and doomed nature of the self-grasping mind’s enterprise; when we have really pursued its operations into their most subtle hiding places; when we have really understood just how our whole ordinary mind and actions are defined, narrowed, and darkened by it, how almost impossible it makes it for us to uncover the heart of unconditional love, and how it has blocked in us all sources of real love and real compassion, then there comes a moment when we understand, with extreme and poignant clarity, what Shantideva said:

If all the harms
Fears and sufferings in the world
Arise from self-grasping,
What need have I for such a great evil spirit?

and a resolution is born in us to destroy that evil spirit, our greatest enemy. With that evil spirit dead, the cause of all our suffering will be removed, and our true nature, in all its spaciousness and dynamic generosity, will shine out.

You can have no greater ally in this war against your greatest enemy, your own self-grasping and self-cherishing, than the practice of compassion. It is compassion, dedicating ourselves to others, taking on their suffering instead of cherishing ourselves, that hand in hand with the wisdom of egolessness destroys most effectively and most completely that ancient attachment to a false self that has been the cause of our endless wandering in samsara. That is why in our tradition we see compassion as the source and essence of enlightenment, and the heart of enlightened activity. As Shantideva says:

What need is there to say more?
The childish work for their own benefit,
The buddhas work for the benefit of others.
Just look at the difference between them.

If I do not exchange my happiness
For the suffering of others,
I shall not attain the state of buddhahood
And even in samsara I shall have no real joy.2

To realize what I call the wisdom of compassion is to see with complete clarity its benefits, as well as the damage that its opposite has done to us. We need to make a very clear distinction between what is in our ego’s self-interest and what is in our ultimate interest; it is from mistaking one for the other that all our suffering comes. We go on stubbornly believing that self-cherishing is the best protection in life, but in fact the opposite is true. Self-grasping creates self-cherishing, which in turn creates an ingrained aversion to harm and suffering. However, harm and suffering have no objective existence; what gives them their existence and their power is only our aversion to them. When you understand this, you understand then that it is our aversion, in fact, that attracts to us every negativity and obstacle that can possibly happen to us, and fills our lives with nervous anxiety, expectation, and fear. Wear down that aversion by wearing down the self-grasping mind and its attachment to a nonexistent self, and you will wear down any hold on you that any obstacle and negativity can have. For how can you attack someone or something that is just not there?

It is compassion, then, that is the best protection; it is also, as the great masters of the past have always known, the source of all healing.” (p. 192-194)

I am finding it very helpful to reflect on how ego works. When I reflect on the teachings I always try to combine intellectual understanding with personal experience of what is said. In the Buddhist teachings this process of assimilation is described as the “Three wisdom tools.” First we need to learn through the ‘listening and hearing’, then we need to gain understanding through “reflection and contemplation”, and finally we need to free our minds through “application and meditation”.

Recently I have been reflecting why emotions like desire, anger and indifference (or ignorance) are considered to be destructive emotions and how that relates to ego. For example, when I feel desire it gives rise to a strong sense “I want”. With anger there is a strong sense of “I don’t want” and with indifference “I don’t care”. In that way these emotions feed my false sense of self.

Actually, the emotions themselves are not the problem but how they give rise to ego and become an addictive habit. It is not the thing we want but the addiction to the wanting something. As soon as one want is satisfied, the habit of wanting looks for another target.

Why am I addicted to wanting? Because it gives me a sense of self and I am craving to feel this sense of “I”. Whenever there is a sense of “I want” in my mind, I get a short experience of high. Similarly “I don’t want” or “I don’t care” feed this false self. Even being angry at someone reinforces it. No wonder these emotions are called the three poisons! They poison my mind by feeding a false sense of self!

A few days ago I came across a very insightful passage from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche, that brilliantly describes the workings of ego:

“I sometimes wonder what a person from a little village in Tibet would feel if you suddenly brought him to a modern city with all its sophisticated technology. He would probably think he had already died and was in the bardo state. He would gape incredulously at the planes flying in the sky above him, or at someone talking on the telephone to another person on the other side of the world. He would assume he was witnessing miracles. And yet all this seems normal to someone living in the modern world with a Western education, which explains the scientific background to these things, step by step.

Sogyal Rinpoche translating for Kyabjé Dudjom Rinpoche in the 1980's

In just the same way, in Tibetan Buddhism there is a basic, normal, elementary spiritual education, a complete spiritual training for the natural bardo of this life, which gives you the essential vocabulary, the ABC of the mind. The bases of this training are what are called the “three wisdom tools”: the wisdom of listening and hearing; the wisdom of contemplation and reflection; and the wisdom of meditation. Through them we are brought to reawaken to our true nature, through them we uncover and come to embody the joy and freedom of what we truly are, what we call “the wisdom of egolessness.”

Imagine a person who suddenly wakes up in hospital after a road accident to find she is suffering from total amnesia. Outwardly, everything is intact: she has the same face and form, her senses and her mind are there, but she doesn’t have any idea or any trace of a memory of who she really is. In exactly the same way, we cannot remember our true identity, our original nature. Frantically, and in real dread, we cast around and improvise another identity, one we clutch onto with all the desperation of someone falling continuously into an abyss. This false and ignorantly assumed identity is “ego.”

So ego, then, is the absence of true knowledge of who we really are, together with its result: a doomed clutching on, at all costs, to a cobbled together and makeshift image of ourselves, an inevitably chameleon charlatan self that keeps changing and has to, to keep alive the fiction of its existence. In Tibetan ego is called dak dzin, which means “grasping to a self.” Ego is then defined as incessant movements of grasping at a delusory notion of “I” and “mine,” self and other, and all the concepts, ideas, desires, and activity that will sustain that false construction. Such a grasping is futile from the start and condemned to frustration, for there is no basis or truth in it, and what we are grasping at is by its very nature ungraspable. The fact that we need to grasp at all and go on and on grasping shows that in the depths of our being we know that the self does not inherently exist. From this secret, unnerving knowledge spring all our fundamental insecurities and fear.

So long as we haven’t unmasked the ego, it continues to hoodwink us, like a sleazy politician endlessly parading bogus promises, or a lawyer constantly inventing ingenious lies and defenses, or a talk show host going on and on talking, keeping up a stream of suave and emptily convincing chatter, which actually says nothing at all.

Lifetimes of ignorance have brought us to identify the whole of our being with ego. Its greatest triumph is to inveigle us into believing its best interests are our best interests, and even into identifying our very survival with its own. This is a savage irony, considering that ego and its grasping are at the root of all our suffering. Yet ego is so convincing, and we have been its dupe for so long, that the thought that we might ever become egoless terrifies us. To be egoless, ego whispers to us, is to lose all the rich romance of being human, to be reduced to a colorless robot or a brain-dead vegetable.

Ego plays brilliantly on our fundamental fear of losing control, and of the unknown. We might say to ourselves: “I should really let go of ego, I’m in such pain; but if I do, what’s going to happen to me?”

Ego will chime in, sweetly: “I know I’m sometimes a nuisance, and believe me, I quite understand if you want me to leave. But is that really what you want? Think: If I do go, what’s going to happen to you? Who will look after you? Who will protect and care for you like I’ve done all these years?”

And even if we were to see through ego’s lies, we are just too scared to abandon it; for without any true knowledge of the nature of our mind, or true identity, we simply have no other alternative. Again and again we cave in to its demands with the same sad self-hatred as the alcoholic feels reaching for the drink that he knows is destroying him, or the drug addict groping for the drug that she knows after a brief high will only leave her flat and desperate.” (p. 120-121)

Getting to know ego

My last post was about how ego operates. One aspect of understanding ego is with the intellect and the other is to experience how this unconscious identification with a false sense of self is happening in myself.  The first aspect is challenging enough but to actually be aware of my ego and being able to see it directly in myself is something I find even more difficult.

Conceptual understanding is of course very important but it is like learning the theory of swimming, the technique and the different strokes e.t.c., and is not the swimming itself. Reading a lot about it isn’t really enough to be able to swim in the water. However, for some people it is crucial to first understand the properties of the water, so they can arrive at a confidence that floating on top of the water is possible. But that is just a first step, to help us find the courage to step into the water, and not the swimming itself. So it is important to keep in mind the difference between theory and practice. Understanding something does not necessarily mean being able to do it. The 19th century master Patrul Rinpoche compared the mistake of thinking you have realized something when you just understood it intellectually with reading a dance manual and thinking you are dancing.

The Yamantaka near Dzogchen monastery cave where Patrul Rinpoche did personal retreat

That’s why I am trying to go forth and back between both trying to understand as well as experiencing ego in my being. With respect to what ego feels like, I have sometimes been able to notice how there is a vague sense of “I am”. It is almost an unconscious identification with what I am doing, feeling, thinking.

This sense of self seems to be created by unconscious identification with the activity and appearances in my mind, rather than the nature of how my mind is. The problem is not “what” I am doing, feeling and thinking, but the “I” because it is a false sense of self. My ego self is defining what I am by creating a mental image based on my personal and cultural conditioning. The sense of “I” is not something real, objective or truly existing, but quite subjective, transient and one could even say irrational. It is based on both past and future and not the present and what truly is. For example, how I think of myself is based on what happened to me in the past. These events and experiences happened because of many causes and conditions and have nothing to do with my inherent self.

My ego is also constantly looking into the future. Most of the day my mind is not with what I am doing in the moment, but with hope of future fulfillment. I might be driving to Lodeve (which is the closest town to Lerab Ling, the Rigpa retreat center in the South of France where I am right now.), but I don’t really care much about the driving. I just want to be in Lodeve, and my mind is in the future, already in Lodeve, and preoccupied with thoughts and ideas of being there. That’s why being in the present is such a powerful practice. It is the direct antidote to living in the past and future. How could ego be, if I don’t let my awareness get lost and absorbed in past or future thoughts? How could ego feed itself if am fully aware of what I am doing and what is happening right now?

During the last week I also started to ask myself: Why does ego arise? Why do I identify with a false sense of self? I seem to have a deep inner yearning to know myself, or maybe better said, to know “what I am”. When I am present and aware of the natural sense of being that is my true nature —which is something beyond words concepts and description — then this unconscious identification cannot take place. Unfortunately this doesn’t happen a lot. When I am out of touch with this innate knowing, in which there is a natural certainty and confidence of who or what I am, my mind starts looking for an identity and ends up identifying with something that is not really me. My awareness then gets lost in this process and I seem to lack the insight and intelligence to tell the difference between my true being and a false sense of self. It  is a very subtle process, and it is not easy to know the difference between what is my true and false self. Why? Because my mind’s clarity is already clouded and impaired. Imagine how difficult it might be to distinguish a genuine dollar bill from a fake in dim light. In the same way, at first glance the false sense of self we call “ego” looks and feels like the real thing!

How does ego work?

I am trying to understand better how ego works. The Tibetan word for ego is Dak Dzin. Dak means “self” and Dzin “to grasp”,  and put together it means grasping at a self. In particular, the teachings say that it refers to grasping at or identifying with a false sense of self.

In the Buddhist teachings the fact that our ordinary sense of self is false is called “emptiness of self” or “egolessness”. When I reflect on and try to understand this truth I always find it helpful to look at this from two sides: to understand how things are, but also to understand how I got deluded in the first place. Today I want to focus on the second.

How does this false sense of self come about?  I recently heard a nice description of how children develop their identity. In the beginning, babies seem to neither have an idea of name or an “I”. By the way, this sometimes brings up the question whether a childlike  state of mind is enlightenment. I have heard my teacher explain that even though it is a very pure and innocent state of mind, children are not able to recognize their inherent nature. Therefore, sorry, the answer is no. Now, back to how the sense of self is formed.

In the first stage, even before there is an idea of “I”,  children start to relate to themselves with their name. For example, after hearing their parents to refer to them with a name, a baby might say “Baba is hungry”, “Baba go here” (… yes you guessed right, “Baba” is how I used to call myself as a baby!) First the children get the idea that the name “Baba” refers to themselves and then in the next stage they adopt that name as their identity, as their sense of self. They start to use “I” to refer to themselves. Then slowly all the attributes and qualities of their person become their identity. We define ourselves by how we are: I am short / tall, skinny / overweight, intelligent / stupid, beautiful / ugly e.t.c. We say: I have blue / green /brown eyes, I am dressed nicely / shoddily. Our education, profession, friends, cultural and social conditioning begins to define ourselves and determines how we think of ourselves.

When we feel good, we say “I feel good” and if not “I feel bad”. The feeling becomes adopted as our identity. Interestingly, there is a sense that our identity is always the same, we ignore the fact that all these attributes that we make our identity change all the time. It seems to me this one of the reasons why such an approach to happiness doesn’t work. We think happiness is to make feeling good our identity, but that feeling good is just a fleeting state of mind and can’t possibly last. Over time we develop a strong habit to identify with our feelings or thoughts or judgements. When feeling good inevitably changes to something unpleasant, then our sense of identity has no choice but to change to “I am feeling bad”.

One thing that is funny is that ego is not very consistent. For example when we have a headache, sometimes we says “I am sick”, and sometimes and we say “my head hurts”.

Tsoknyi Rinpoche

One of my teachers Tsoknyi Rinpoche describes the process of how our mind becomes deluded with the example of looking at a flower. The first moment you see a flower, you see it purely, just as it is, without judgement. But then the next moment mind comes in and starts to label the flower and then to evaluate and judge. It gives it attributes like: tall stem, green leaves, yellow blossoms, smells like lavender, this is a flower. The next step is to either say “I like it” or “I don’t like it”.  If we liked it, we say “I want it”. Then we take action: we pluck the flower and take it home. Or, if we don’t like the smell, we say “I don’t want to smell this” and do what we can to get it as far away from us as possible.

All these reactions take on a life of their own. In the process of identifying with this false sense of self our awareness gets completely absorbed into the forms we identify with. Our mind gets lost in this process. Our pure awareness which has the ability to look at things with wisdom and clarity gets covered up and when this happens we loose our freedom. Our often irrational feelings, judgments, habits and unconscious reactions start running us and our lives.

The way to come back to our true selves and to regain our freedom begins with coming back to this pure consciousness that can see things as they are. How can we do that? By refocusing our awareness on the present moment? If we can simply learn to be present and be aware of the thoughts, feelings, and impulses in our mind, this process of investing our identity with them will no longer be able to happen. In the light of this pure and natural awareness we will be able to see the transient nature of all these arisings. We can see that these risings are in flux. They take form, stay for a while and then dissolve. In that presence of awareness there is also an understanding that our true being is simply open pure awareness, insubstantial, and without a concrete identity.

When the cognizant aspect of our mind — the aspect that can know — recognizes its own nature, there is a natural sense of being and sense of knowing oneself. When our cognizance is not able to recognize what it is, then it feels the need to find an identity and unfortunately gets entangled and lost in the forms it identifies with.

Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche

The great master Tulku Urgyen always used to say:

“Samsara is mind turned outwardly, lost in its projections. Nirvana is mind turned inwardly, recognizing its nature.”

In The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying Sogyal Rinpoche wrote that, “we have to understand, the buddhas took one path and we took another. The buddhas recognize their original nature and become enlightened; we do not recognize that nature and so become confused. In the teachings, this state of affairs is called “One Ground, Two Paths.”

In Tibetan the pure and pristine awareness of nowness that can see things as they are is called Rigpa, and awareness that is obscured and deluded is called Marigpa, usually translated as ignorance.

What we need to do is to recognize our natural pure awareness and then reconnect with it. Meditation is often described as “getting used to”. If we are able to simply be aware, we become like a light in which the darkness of identification with a false sense of self naturally dissolves. We need to decide that this is the way to become free and make a choice to strive to develop this natural presence.

I find it quite difficult to remain in my natural pure awareness. My habits of grasping and feeling attachment to what feels good and aversion to what doesn’t are very strong. That’s why in meditation we try to develop a deeper equanimity and even mindedness. My teacher Sogyal Rinpoche always says that we need to be like a charming hostess who is able and willing to accommodate even the most difficult guests. The Zen master Suzuki Roshi used to say “The best way to control cow and sheep is to give them a big grazing field. Some risings might stay for a while, and it might seem they will never go away but we need to have complete confidence that they will eventually naturally dissolve when their karma is exhausted.

Another very important point is that being in our natural and pure awareness is not just a solitary state that is removed from life, but that it can be integrated into all aspects of our lives. We can learn to perceive forms, sounds, smells, touch, tastes, thoughts or feelings with our full being. We can even act with our full being without loosing that deeper sense of awareness and presence. When difficulties arise we will then no longer take things personally. We will be able to deal with them with the understanding that they are not able to affect our deeper sense of being. When we experience negative emotions we can welcome them with understand that we are not our thoughts and emotions. Because of many causes and conditions these thoughts and emotions arise and will eventually dissolve.

When I study and reflect on the teachings, I find it so inspiring and encouraging that the solution is simply to be present in the face of whatever arises. It is not easy but it is very simple. We already have Buddha nature. There is no need to try to get something nor trying to get rid of something. We just need to reconnect with our fundamental nature which is already perfect in itself!

Clarifying my practice

I arrived in Munich a few days ago after a week of traveling, and have been trying to rest and recover from the massive jet lag. I had hoped to make a few posts once I am here in Munich, and I have plenty of notes from my reflections, but I got stuck trying to get them finished. The main topic I have been reflecting on recently was how to clarify my practice. However, I had so many different thoughts about it that I didn’t know where to start or how to all put them into one coherent post. I decided to just wait and see. Finally I got fed up and decided to get this post written up. That approach worked, but it took me a couple of days to get it completed.

The reason I have been thinking so much about how to clarify and simplify my practice and how to be clear about the main points of the teachings is that I often get stuck and overwhelmed with all the details of the different teachings and practices. When that happens my practice feels incomplete and I yearn to bring everything into a clear and simple main point. At these times I usually ask myself questions like: What are the most important points about practice? How can I make sure that my practice will be successful?

There are two things that stand out for me: The right motivation and a clear understanding of the teachings

Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche

The right motivation
I believe that if I can be clear about my motivation, I won’t follow the path half heartedly. If one does something whole heartedly one will be much more effective and successful. That’s why I try to understand clearly why I am practicing and where I want to get to with my practice. The spiritual path seems like a journey to me. A journey requires having a goal or destination. In order to become interested in the journey, and to make a decision to embark on it, one needs to know where one wants to go and be motivated to do so through understanding the benefits of reaching the destination. The advantages of getting there need to have enough value to create an interest in leaving home.

The way I look at it, a good motivation needs begin with convincing reasons that practice will lead to a better way of being, and confidence that the path towards that goal will work, e.g. that it will bring me  to where I want to get to. Then I need to know how to travel the path and have all that is needed to make the journey successfully. For example, if you want to travel through a desert you need a map, fuel, food, water, the right clothes etc.

With respect to my spiritual path, what helps me to be motivated is on the one hand to look at and acknowledge the dissatisfaction and shortcomings of my present way of being and on the other hand to see the potential of becoming free and bringing suffering to an end once and for all.  When I reflect on this, I first remind myself of the shortcomings of my present life, how my present approach to happiness is flawed, and how futile my unceasing chase of short-lived pleasure and happiness is. It is hard to let go of the fantasy that these transient states of feeling good will last, if I just keep trying!

Then, I contemplate on the wonderful message of the teachings of the Buddha which tells us that there is the possibility of a lasting happiness, of freedom from suffering, and most of all that we all have the potential to awaken and recognize and embody our true nature.

Another important aspect of the motivation is to go beyond my self-centered concerns and wish to bring all beings to enlightenment. Usually I just want to be happy myself. When I see others people’s ignorance and suffering I forget that they want to be happy as a I do, and that I am confused and suffering, just like they are, in my own ways.

I also find it helpful to consciously acknowledge and remind myself that what all of us living beings share in common is our wish for happiness. Sometimes the wish to bring all beings to enlightenment feels contrived to me. It seems like I am trying to impose this on all these other beings. But actually, when I reflect on this, it becomes clear that deep down, whether they know it or not, all beings wish for this lasting happiness of enlightenment. We are all together in this mess of samsara. So, isn’t the right thing to do to want all beings to become free of suffering and delusion?

It is also not enough to just have a nice wish that all beings may awaken from ignorance and become free of suffering once and for all. It has to be more than a fleeting feeling or thought, but something  that I serious and passionately feel needs to come true. It is said in the teachings that I need to go even one step further and personally commit to make this happen. The attitude here is to say to myself, “if need be I will get this done  all on my own!”

I find this a very noble and rich motivation to aspire to. There is so much contained in it:
- Renunciation, which is the determination to be free and the willingness to give up the deceiving promises of samsara.
- Refuge, which includes a deep confidence that we have the Buddha nature, a conviction that realizing it will bring lasting freedom and happiness, and dedicating one’s life to this goal. We take refuge in the path that the Buddha has shown.
- Bodhichitta, which is the wish to bring all beings to enlightenment.

For me, the essence of this motivation is to make awakening my goal and, more importantly, to do this not in self-centered way just for myself but extend my innate capacity to care to all living beings.

Sogyal Rinpoche holding a statue of Longchenpa

Understanding the main point of practice
The second important point that comes to my mind with respect to practice is the need to have a clear understanding of the goal of practice: enlightenment, realizing Buddha nature or the nature of mind, however you want to call it. A crucial point to understand here is that Buddha nature refers to the natural state of how things are and implies a perfection already inherent in the ground of my being. It is not something that needs to be created or fabricated, because the teachings say that my fundamental nature is already perfectly present, although unfortunately it is presently obscured. Because this perfection is already naturally present, all that is needed for attaining enlightenment is to remove the obscurations.

With this understanding practice is no longer about getting or gaining something but about removing the obscurations. One of my teachers often says that Buddhist practice is not about getting something but to get rid of! The point is to get rid of obscurations and ignorance and not to gain knowledge or “creating” a state of enlightenment. We are looking to uncover something that we already have. There is nothing to grasp at or to get!

The essence of Buddhist practice is often described as nothing more than to purify obscurations and to accumulate merit and wisdom. Merit is the power, energy and momentum that comes from the positive actions we engage in on the path. Wisdom is not something we can gain but is naturally revealed as the obscurations are purified and the veils that cause misunderstanding and ignorance are removed. (Of course, initially we need to cultivate some conceptual understanding.)

Reflecting on Buddha nature this way also reminds me that my fundamental nature is not touched or stained by my confusion, faults, negative actions etc. That’s really good news, isn’t it! And it also helps me to understand relative reality better, that everything is impermanent and nothing has inherent existence!

If you understand how the nature of reality truly is, this is said to give rise to an attitude of non-grasping. If I understand correctly, the key point of understanding how to practice is this attitude of non-grasping.

There is a final point. We begin with a noble motivation, then practice with an attitude of non-grasping and at the end of the practice we need to dedicate all our efforts and all the benefit they might bring to the benefit and ultimately the enlightenment of all beings.

When I reflected on the main points of practice, somewhere along I realized that my teacher Sogyal Rinpoche had already told them to me many times what is essential to have in my practice and also wrote about them in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying:

“In the teaching of Buddha, we say there are three things that make all the difference between your meditation being merely a way of bringing temporary relaxation, peace, and bliss, or of becoming a powerful cause for your enlightenment and the enlightenment of others. We call them: “Good in the Beginning, Good in the Middle, and Good at the End. …

These three sacred principles–the skillful motivation, the attitude of non-grasping that secures the practice, and the dedication that seals it–are what make your meditation truly enlightening and powerful. They have been beautifully described by the great Tibetan master Longchenpa as “the heart, the eye, and the life-force of true practice.” As Nyoshul Khenpo says: “To accomplish complete enlightenment, more than this is not necessary: but less than this is incomplete.”
— from chapter 5 of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

Looking at this teaching on the three noble principles helped me fill a lot of gaps in my own reflection. I can definitely say that reflecting like this helped me to clarify and simplify my understanding of the teachings and what practice is about. But when I read my notes again afterward I realized that my attempt to essentialise probably still reads quite complex and complicated. Sorry! In a way, it should be no surprise: Aren’t we human beings fantastically complicated, complex and messed up! Don’t the teachings be rich to address and entangle all this confusion? However, while these reflections still helped me to get things clearer in mind, it is probably the reflecting that helps to clarify and not the reading the result.  So maybe everyone has to reflect on this themselves!

Gratitude

I had to leave early today to drive to the airport for a two and a half month journey to Europe. After stopping over for a few days on the mainland to see some friends, I will visit my family in Munich and then go see my teacher Sogyal Rinpoche for six weeks at Lerab Ling, his main center in the South of France. When I left home this morning it marked the end of an important phase in my life: settling back into a new life after the three year retreat. We found a wonderful inspiring and healing environment to live in, settled into a new home.

It has been busy the last couple of weeks getting everything in order to leave. I have kept up my practice and even managed to type up my reflections, but just didn’t find the extra time to post them on my blog. I now have plenty of stuff for a bunch of posts that just needs a bit of putting together and editing. In theory, it should be easy to catch up posting these reflections, when I find some spare time during my travels.  I will give it a try. Practically speaking I am not sure it will work that way. I usually find that if I don’t finish up writing up my reflections when they are fresh in my mind they fade away. Let’s see!

I had mixed feelings about going away for such a long time. A part of me didn’t want to leave. I was just beginning to feel settled here and wanted to just stay, take it easy for a while and have some quiet time for study and practice. I felt I needed some more time to digest the rich and intense experience of the three year retreat, before being ready to return to Lerab Ling and visit my friends and family.

The farewell was not easy. I had to say good bye to my wife who decided to stay behind this summer because the traveling would be too hard on her health. I spent a few moments with our latest addition to the family: our two sweet little kitties Bodhi and Chitta (you can read all about them on mywife’s blog alwayswellwithin.com). Chitta hurt on of her paws a few days ago and is limping but fortunately the vet thought she would be ok. That was a great relief to find out.

The drive to the Kona airport on the other side of the Big Island is very scenic and inspiring. The road goes high up through the mountains and passes by the two volcanoes Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. As I was driving I felt deep gratitude for having met the Buddhist teachings. Why? Because they help me to understand what I am as a living being and they provide me guidance to live my life. They show a path that will ultimately lead to “nirvana,” a natural state of freedom beyond suffering, where my awareness will embody and manifests its true nature and being: pure, omniscient and capable of manifesting in myriads of ways to help other beings. Until I get there, the teachings will help me deal with both life and death and even what comes beyond that.

I am still at the very beginning of the path but the way I look at it, it doesn’t matter. The teachings say that just taking refuge in this truth and the path leading to it will ensure that liberation will eventually happen.  In my tradition there are special teachings that are said to be able to bring enlightenment in this life. If you are practitioner of the highest capacity, that is. I don’t have my hopes up. With the pace that I am going at, there is no way that this going to happen in my case. The more I understand about what enlightenment means and the clearer I see my habits and obscurations, enlightenment seems far away, if not almost impossible.

I like the Zen approach to this: enlightenment may seem impossible but we try anyway. It may seem impossible to liberate all beings but we vow to do it anyway! Because it is the only thing worth doing! The most noble endeavor we can devote our life towards! It took Buddha three countless eons to travel the path to complete awakening. Maybe it will take me several dozen countless eons! I am okay with that, because I understand that fundamentally my being is indestructible and as long as I cultivate and strengthen a pure intention to work towards this noble goal of a nirvana not just for myself but all being, it will eventually come true.

I know these things intellectually but it is no so often that I feel them deeply. It took me over twenty years time to be able to sometimes feel this more deeply and feel deep confidence about the truth of it. This morning I also felt a deep gratitude for my teacher who showed me this path. Without his kindness my life would not be nourished and infused with meaning by the nectar of the Dharma.

This morning, on the way to the airport my hesitations about the trip dissolved. I feel ready to visit my friends and family and go back to Lerab Ling.

A few days ago I came across a very inspiring image of the Han at the Tassajara Zen Mountain Center. Tassajara was founded by Suzuki Roshi, who I quoted in my last post. I find the inscription a great reminder of the preciousness of life and impermanence and immediately made it the desktop background of my laptop!

I had to look up what a “Han” is and here is what I found at about.com:

“A han is a wooden board struck by a mallet with a particular rhythm to announce the beginning of a zazen period in a Zen monastery. It is also sometimes struck before the monks retire for bed.

Often, a variation of this verse is engraved on the han:

Let me respectfully remind you,
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time passes by swiftly and opportunity is lost.
Each of us should strive to awaken.
Awaken! Take heed, do not squander your life.”

Since my last post I have been reflecting more on the question ”Who am I?” or better phrased “What is the nature of my being?”. I have been looking at some of the teachings from the Zen Buddhist tradition.  What I like about these teachings is that they focus not so much on the theory of Buddhism but on the direct experience of what is true about the world. I heard a Zen teacher explain that Zen follows the action of the Buddha. Buddha became enlightened by sitting under the Bodhi tree, he explained, and in the practice of Zen we follow his example to realize the truth.

What I like about Zen is how it talks about the direct experience of what is true, looking at reality freshly and openly so we can see what truly is. Normally I spend most of my life in the past or the future. Most of what I experience gets colored by my past experiences and memories as I label, judge and analyze. I spend a lot of time thinking planning and scheming how have a happy life. Unfortunately I tend to get lost in these thoughts and miss the direct experience of life. Trying to understand things and planning one’s life is necessary but if you miss the present  that’s like throwing out the baby with the bathwater! The teachings of Zen emphasize being in the present and experiencing life freshly and directly.

Shunryu Suzuki

Here are some quotes from a wonderful book by the great Zen master Suzuki Roshi titled Zen Mind, Beginners Mind. He used to describe the practice of Zen as cultivating “beginner’s mind”, which he explains as follows:

“If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.” (p. 21)
A few pages further he gives a profound example of how we experience ourselves in meditation, called zazen in the Zen tradition:

“When we practice zazen our mind always follows our breathing. When we inhale, the air comes into the inner world. When we exhale, the air goes out to the outer world. The inner world is limitless, and the outer world is also limitless. We say “inner world” or “outer world” but actually there is just one whole world. In this limitless world, our throat is like a swinging door. The air comes in and goes out like someone passing through a swinging door. If you think, “I breath.” The “I” is extra. There is no you to say “I.” What we call “I” is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale. It just moves, that is all. When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing; no “I,” no world, no mind nor body; just a swinging door.” (p. 29)

There is a blog with transcripts of the teachings given by Suzuki Roshi on the website of the San Francisco Zen center and also there are wonderful videos of some his teachings that have recently bee restored and made available on YouTube.

The world is a mystery

Usually I am very groggy when I first wake up in the morning and it takes a while for my mind to show any signs of consciousness. But sometimes I wake up in the morning with a sense of wonder. I sit up on my bed, look out of the window, and life seems like a big mystery. I ask myself “Where am I?” “What the heck am I doing here?” The last day seems like a dream. The present is full of wonder. I am full of questions: “Where is this room coming from?” “What about the beautiful trees in the garden?” At those moments it feels like a deep mystery how this world could have possibly come into being.

Question like “What is the meaning of life?” and “Who am I?” have been running like a thread through my life since I have been a teenager. At times the lack of a satisfying answer to the meaning of life was very painful. I have found over time that there is no satisfying intellectual answer, but that when I can connect and experience my true being a little then these questions simply dissolve … at least for a little while!

Studying and practicing Buddhism has helped me to get little glimpses of what my true being is. I haven’t been able to fully embody the experiences of these special moments, but they have become like a beacon in my life. Working towards realizing this truth more deeply through studying and practicing Buddhism has giving my life direction and purpose.

I realize that eventually my questions about what or who I am will disappear, but until they do, I find it helpful to reflect on them. Intellectual understanding is not the ultimate answer but it is a support that gives you a road map on where the path leads and how to get there.

Interestingly, when it comes to reflecting on our true nature, the Buddhist teachings focus more on “what we are” and not on “who we are”. The reason for this is that when we really look there is no “who” to be found. Therefore it is much better to think of ourselves in terms of what we are. Here are two quotes about “what we truly are” by two of my teachers that I find very inspiring:

In The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying Sogyal Rinpoche writes beautifully about the “Heart of Meditation”. He writes:

“The purpose of meditation is to awaken in us the sky-like nature of mind, and to introduce us to that which we really are, our unchanging pure awareness, which underlies the whole of life and death.” (p. 60)

In his book Joyful Wisdom Mingyur Rinpoche beautifully describes this pure awareness:

“Pure awareness is like a ball of clear crystal—colorless in itself but capable of reflecting anything: your face, other people, walls, furniture. if you moved it around a little, maybe you’d see different parts of the and the size, shape, or position of the furniture might change. if you took it outside, you could see trees, birds, flowers—even the sky! What appears, though, are only reflections. They don’t really exist inside the ball, nor do they alter its essence in any way. …. They don’t alter the nature of that which reflects them. The crystal ball is essentially colorless.

Similarly pure awareness in itself is always clear, capable of reflecting anything, even misconceptions about itself as limited or conditioned.” (p. 85-86)

Isn’t it amazing and wonderful that our true nature is like this and that we can learn to experience and embody it through the practice of meditation?

Yesterday friend of mine sent me an email with a a brief dialogue between the Brazilian theologist Leonardo Boff and the Dalai Lama, which deeply touched me. Here is what Leonardo, one of the renovators of the Theology of Freedom, recounts of this remarkable encounter:

In a round table discussion about religion and freedom in which Dalai Lama
and myself were participating at recess I maliciously, and also with interest, asked him:  

“Your holiness, what is the best religion?”

I thought he would say: “The Tibetan Buddhism” or “The oriental religions, much older than Christianity.”

The Dalai Lama paused, smiled and looked me in the eyes …. which surprised me because I knew of the malice contained in my question.

He answered:
 “The best religion is the one that gets you closest to God. It is the one that makes you a better person.”

To get out of my embarrassment with such a wise answer, I asked: “What is it that makes me better?”

He responded:
“Whatever makes you
more compassionate,
more sensible,
more detached,
more loving,
more humanitarian,
more responsible,
more ethical.”
“The religion that will do that for you is the best religion”

I was silent for a moment, marveling and even today thinking of his wise and irrefutable response:

“I am not interested, my friend, about your religion or if you are religious or not.

“What really is important to me is your behavior in front of your peers, family, work, community, and in front of the world.

“Remember, the universe is the echo of our actions and our  thoughts.”

“The law of action and reaction is not exclusively for physics.  It is also of human relations. 
If I act with goodness, I will receive goodness. 
If I act with evil, I will get evil.”

“What our grandparents told us is the pure truth. You will always have what you desire for others. Being happy is not a matter of destiny. It is a matter of options.”

Finally he said:
“Take care of your Thoughts because they become Words.
Take care of your Words because they will become Actions.
Take care of your Actions because they will become Habits.
Take care of your Habits because they will form your Character.
Take care of your Character because it will form your Destiny,
and your Destiny will be your Life

… and …

“There is no religion higher than the Truth.”

Today, I would like to share more advice by Mingyur Rinpoche on how to deal with thoughts and emotions, that he gave in the context of the exercise from his book The Joy of Living, which I described in my last post. He wrote:

“The point of the exercise is to simply watch everything that passes through your awareness as it arises out of emptiness, momentarily appears, and dissolves back into emptiness again—a movement like the rising and falling of a wave in a giant ocean. You don’t want to block your thoughts, emotions, and so on; nor do you want to chase after them. If you chase after them, if you let them lead you, they begin to define you, and you loose your ability to respond openly and spontaneously in the present moment. On the other hand, if you attempt to block your thoughts, your mind can become quite tight and small.

This is an important point because many people mistakenly believe meditation involves deliberately stopping the natural movement of thoughts and emotions. It’s possible to block this movement for a little while and even achieve a fleeting sense of peace—but it’s the peace of a zombie. A completely thoughtless, emotionless state is a state devoid of discernment or clarity.

If you practice allowing your mind just to be as it is, however, your mind will eventually settle down on its own. You will develop a sense of spaciousness, while your ability to experience things clearly, without bias, will gradually increase. Once you begin to watch these thoughts, emotions, and so on come and go with awareness, you’ll start to recognize that they are all relative experiences. A happy thought is distinguished by its difference from an unhappy thought, just as a tall person may be distinguished as “tall” only in relation to someone who is shorter. By himself, that person is neither tall nor short. Similarly, a thought or a feeling can’t, in itself, be described as positive or negative except through comparison with other thoughts. Without this kind of comparison, a thought, a feeling, or a perception is just what it is. It has no inherent qualities or characteristics, and can’t be defined in itself except through comparison.” (p. 67-68)

An exercise in emptiness

I am immensely enjoying helping with the online course in meditation that I mentioned previously, however it hasn’t left me with a lot of time of writing in my blog. I have kept my routine of practicing and reflecting, but just haven’t found time to write it down. So today I sat down and decided it is high time to make another post. I felt it was important to keep up the momentum.

Lately I have been beginning to work with another exercise from Mingyur Rinpoche’s book “The Joy of Living” It is called “An Exercise in Emptiness” and I thought it would be nice to share:

“The sense of openness people experience when they simply rest their minds is known in Buddhism as emptiness, which is probably one of the most misunderstood words in Buddhist philosophy. It is hard enough for Buddhists to understand the term, but Western readers have an even more difficult time, because many of the early translations of Sanskrit and Tibetan texts interpreted emptiness as “the Void” or nothingness—mistakenly equating emptiness with the idea that nothing at all exists. Nothing could be further from the truth the Buddha sought to describe.

While the Buddha did teach that the nature of mind—in fact the nature of all phenomena—is emptiness, he didn’t mean that their nature was truly empty, like a vacuum. He said it was emptiness, which in the Tibetan language is made up of two words: tongpa-nyi. The word tongpa means “empty”, but only in the sense of something beyond our ability to perceive with our senses and our capacity to conceptualize. Maybe a better translation would be “inconceivable” or “unnamable.” The word nyi, meanwhile, doesn’t have any particular meaning in everyday Tibetan conversation. But when added to another word it conveys a sense of “possibility”—a sense that anything can arise, anything can happen. So when Buddhist talk about emptiness, we don’t mean nothingness, but rather an unlimited potential for anything to appear, change, or disappear. (p.59-60)

Arya Nagarjuna — one of the six great commentators (the ‘Six Ornaments’) on the Buddha’s teachings, the great scholar Nagarjuna (c.150-250) is revered as an unsurpassed master by all Buddhist schools. He was the revealer of the Prajñaparamita Sutras, the teachings on emptiness, which are the core teaching of the second turning of the wheel of the Dharma.

An Exercise in Emptiness

“The mind is empty in essence.
Although empty, everything constantly arises in it.”

The Third Gyalwang Karmapa,
Song of Karmapa: The Aspiration Mahamudra of True Meaning

translated by Erik Pema Kunsang

Intellectual understanding of emptiness is one thing; direct experience is another. So let’s try another exercise, a little different from the ones described in previous chapters. This time you’ll look at your thoughts, emotions, and sensations very closely, as they arise out of emptiness, momentarily appear as emptiness, and dissolve back into emptiness. If no thoughts, feeling, or sensations come up for you, just make them up, as many as you can, very quickly, one after another. The main point of the exercise is to observe as many forms of experience as you can. If you don’t observe them, they’ll just slip away unnoticed. Don’t loose any of the thoughts, feelings, or sensations without having observed them.

Begin by sitting up straight, in a relaxed position, and breathing normally. Once you are settled, start to observe your thoughts, emotions, and sensation very clearly. Remember, if nothing comes up for you, just start gibbering away in your mind. Whatever you perceive—pain, pressure, sounds, and so on—observe it very clearly. Even ideas like “This is a good thought,” “This is a bad thought,” “I like this exercise” are thoughts you can observe. You can even observe something as simple as an itch. To get the full effect, you’ll want to continue this process for a t least a minute.
Are you ready? Okay, then go!

Watch the movement of your mind. …

Watch the movement of your mind. …

Watch the movement of your mind. …

Now stop.

The point of the exercise is to simply watch everything that passes through your awareness as it arises out of emptiness, momentarily appears, and dissolves back into emptiness again—a movement like the rising and falling of a wave in a giant ocean. You don’t want to block your thoughts, emotions, and so on; nor do you want to chase after them. (p. 66-67)

Mingyur Rinpoche writes more advice on how to work with thoughts and emotions but his is enough to get started and work with this exercise. In my next post I will share a few more things Mingyur Rinpoche wrote about this exercise. (Or you can read it yourself in his book.)

A few of the students in the online class I am helping to instruct are finding it quite difficult to get down onto the cushion. I sometimes have the same problem and this made me reflect on what I do when this happens.

The first question that came to my mind was why I find it so difficult to sit down at those times when my mind is scattered and I need it most. We are all different so this may not be the same with you, but when my mind is all caught up and wound up, it feels quite uncomfortable. Then somehow my mind tries to ignore and shut down this feeling of discomfort. It becomes a vicious circle because the only way I know how to avoid noticing my inner turmoil is to cover it up by being busy. Unfortunately this is like adding oil to the fire. I get more scattered and uncomfortable. Sitting down would mean to stop this ongoing cover-up and having to face the mess. I think, deep down on an unconscious level, my mind knows this and tries to avoid it at all costs, because it is afraid that it would be really painful to experience what is truly going on.

The funny thing is that when I sit down, what seemed like a dreadful un-faceable situation is just a bunch of thoughts, feeling and sensations. The fear of looking at them was completely unfounded, like when the tiger around the corner that one is scared of turns out to be a paper mask. This reminds me of a passage in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying where Sogyal Rinpoche quotes the Western poet Rainer Maria Rilke who has said “that our deepest fears are like dragons guarding our deepest treasures.”

What to do to slay the dragons? The most direct way has been described by the great master Longchenpa who compared samsara to a vicious circle. A circle seems to be endless. It has no beginning and end. It seems impossible to get out. However there is a simple solution: Simply cut the circle and the endless going around immediately stops!

Longchenpa (1308-1364) was one of the most brilliant teachers of the Nyingma lineage

So the most direct approach would be to simply stop and sit down. But we may not be able to do that. Sometimes we need to first unwind slowly, for example by first cleaning the room, going for a walk, reading a book or watching or listening to a Dharma teaching. It usually doesn’t help to try to force myself. I find that a gentle and creative approach works much better.

There are many other skillful means we can use and we probably all have to find ways that work for us. For example, we can strengthen our motivation to practice by reflecting on topics like the preciousness of human life, impermanence, karma or the defects of samsara. We can pray for help. We can simply schedule and block out some time for practice.

It sounds all easy but, to be honest, I often find this first step very difficult. My habits and my tendency to avoid myself at these difficult times is very strong. Maybe that’s why it is said the way to the cushion can be very long even if it is right in front of us! I keep telling myself that I need to just keep working with this and trust that the process will slowly work and bring about change.

Once I manage to sit down, the next challenge comes. When my mind is scattered and all over the place it gets easily overwhelmed by the meditation instructions. At times even the seven points of posture are just too much to set up and I get stuck in the process. I just need something simple. However I find that not using a method and just trying to rest my mind, or just being aware of whatever is going in my mind, even though extremely simple, is too difficult at that moment. My mind needs something to work with that is easy and simple.

When that happens I begin by sitting down and just taking a rest for a moment. Then, when I feel ready I start with the most basic and simple instructions.

The bottom line of the meditation instructions is to sit comfortably with one’s back straight.

Once that is established, the next step is to find a simple focus. One of the easiest ways to focus the mind is to focus your awareness on the breath. The most simple approach to this is to just be aware of the breathing. However, often I find my mind is too scattered to do this. It is too simple and vague. I need a more detailed method.

There are many different ways to focus with more detail. Every tradition seems to have a different approach. Some advise to notice the sensations of the breath going through your nostrils or mouth. Some say to focus about two finger width below your belly and notice the movement of your belly as you breathe in and out. Some tell you to count each breath and when you come to ten or six start again. You could even use a mala to count. I have tried all of these a bit but when my mind is unsettled I still get easily distracted with any of these methods. The one methods I find easiest is to count to four during each in and out breath and count to one for the pauses in between. Somehow that is simple and gives my mind enough to do.

Another method I have found very helpful is to use the “three methods in one practice” that Sogyal Rinpoche presents in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (pages 73-74). A simple form of this practice is to start with resting attention on an object like an image of Buddha, then listening to and/or chanting a mantra and then going on to watching the breath. It works with all the aspects of our being: form, sound and awareness and can bring the mind home very quickly.

Sogyal Rinpoche always stresses that the method is just a support and that we need to drop it as soon as our mind has settled and we are able to be present and simply aware of whatever is going on in our minds and our environment. I often notice I get stuck in the method for much too long, so lately I have tried to drop it more quickly and just come back to it again if I need to.

Once my mind has settled a little I  let go of the methods and just try to be aware of whatever is going on in my mind as described in the meditation exercise by Mingyur Rinpoche that I posted a few weeks ago.

Or, if I feel I want to work more with a method, I slowly bring in more detailed instructions, like the seven points of the posture and go to a much lighter focus, like simply being aware of the breath without counting or focusing on the out breath and resting in the gap at the end of it. In theory the instructions are detailed and structured but in practice it doesn’t have to be all complete and in the correct order. The main point is that it needs to work for us and support our practice.

Just as I thought I was finally shaking off my flue, which seemed to be dragging on for weeks, I got hit by another bug. It wiped me out for a couple of days, but fortunately now I seem to be recovering quickly. Sogyal Rinpoche has often told us that when you are unwell it is a good time to try to practice, because it is important to learn how to deal with pain and suffering. For example he has sometimes pointed out very candidly that when we’ll die we will probably not be feeling well. So, when are not well we can see how well our practice is going. Can we just be present in the face of pain and discomfort? I wasn’t very successful with my practice but it made me reflect on suffering a bit.

Buddhism has a unique outlook on suffering. Many people who don’t know Buddhism well believe that it is very pessimistic and all about suffering. It is very true that Buddhism speaks a lot about suffering. The first statement in Buddha’s very first teaching was “the truth of suffering”, the first of the four noble truth. It is often translated as “Life is suffering”. However, if seen in the context all four noble truths the message of the Buddhist teachings is actually very optimistic, similar to a doctor who sees an illness,  diagnoses the cause, finds a solution and prescribes a course of treatment. The outcome, complete healing, is undoubtedly very positive!

Actually, the way I have come to understand it, Buddhism is far from just being about suffering. Buddha acknowledged that all beings want to be happy. He is not saying suffering is our fate or that life is all about suffering. He is suggesting a different approach to happiness. Suffering is the flip side of happiness and thus if we want happiness it is crucial to understand suffering.

This thangka is depicting the Buddha's first teaching, in which he taught the Four Noble Truth. It is know as the first Turning of the Wheel of the Dharma.

Usually we try to avoid looking at suffering as much as possible. Instead we focus on happiness only by looking for pleasure, gain, praise,  a good reputation and try to avoid their opposites. The Buddhist teachings show us that this approach is bound to fail. First of all we can’t avoid suffering because we will all have to experience the suffering of birth, old age, sickness and death. Secondly, it is not possible to create lasting pleasant states of mind because everything that feels good will eventually change. We can’t keep eating ice cream or we’ll get sick. We can’t keep lying in the sun forever or we get sun burned or too hot. Sooner or later every pleasant experience will change. It will stop to be pleasant and we have to chase some thing else for another short lived buzz and pleasure.  Thus to chase pleasant experiences becomes an endless endeavor to keep creating happy states of mind. Thirdly, the Buddha said that on a very deep and subtle level suffering permeates all of our present existence. It is built into the fabric of our reality. There is a potential and possibility for it to arise at any moment.

The Buddha pointed out is that our fantasy of a lasting state of happiness is not possible.  He spoke a lot about suffering in his teachings not because suffering is all there is but because he is suggesting a different approach to happiness. Looking for happiness in feeling good can not possibly bring a lasting happiness but leads unavoidably to an endless chasing of temporary fleeting experiences. If we want to find lasting happiness we need to begin with facing and getting to know suffering. That is why the first noble truth is explained to mean that “Suffering must be known”

This is quite different to our usual approach to life. We meditate because we want to experience a state of peace and calm. We do yoga to harmonize our physical body and inner energy so we feel good. We chant and pray to feel bliss. This is not Buddha’s main concern. His main concern is to face and understand suffering, see and abandon its causes, be clear how we can become free of it once and for all, and learn and follow a path towards that goal.

It is important to be clear that temporary happiness like peace, pleasure, favorable conditions and feeling good are not bad. We actually need them in the beginning but they are not the main goal of our practice. When we meditate, we need to initially calm or minds and become comfortable in ourselves. However, learning to deal with suffering and finding the natural freedom of mind where we are no longer drawn into suffering is the real goal. I have sometimes have heard this compared to wanting to look at a painting in the dark with a candle. If the candle is flickering too much we won’t be able to see the painting. So initially we need to stabilize the candle and protect it from disturbances. Once we know the painting well we won’t need the candle to be so calm any more.

Seen this way suffering or illness is a good opportunity to practice, that is if you don’t get overwhelmed by the experience so much that you can’t practice.  Initially, I also wanted to write about my experience of trying to practice when I was sick in this post, but since I wrote so much on reflecting of suffering I will leave this topic for one of my next posts.

Older Posts »

Bad Behavior has blocked 55 access attempts in the last 7 days.