Without thought for approaching death I plan for the distant future.

Without thought for approaching death I plan for the distant future.

If I were to relentlessly busy myself with the senseless activities of this life

And now return empty handed, this would be completely deluded.

Recognising the essential is truly sublime dharma.

Should I not practise this sublime dharma precisely now?

This is how the great siddhas themselves taught it.

If I did not treasure the instructions of my lama in my mind

Would I not be deceiving myself?

The closing lines of Karma Lingpa’s text, the Root Verses of the Six Bardos, give us the following teaching for our lives now: Without thought for approaching death I plan for the distant future.

Death is certain, but we don’t think about it. The bardo of dharmata and the bardo of becoming will certainly appear to us, but we are not in the slightest prepared to deal with them.

Because we don’t continuously bring the approach of death to mind, we think: “I’ve still got years of time to practise”, and fall continuously into laziness. If one is lazy in one’s practice it is a sign that one is not conscious of the nearness of death.

But how can we think about death? It is not complicated, if we remind ourselves again and again that we will certainly die. Only the time of death is uncertain. If we hear about the death of someone else, we should give thought to death: “This person has died, and one day I will die.” Before we go to visit some other place, and for that matter on the way there too, we should think: “I’m now going to that place. Everything has the nature of transience, so I don’t know if I’ll ever return.”

If there is a fight in the family, with parents, children or friends, we should think: “Now a fight has started up, but I won’t get involved, since we are all subject to transience. It is uncertain which of us will die first.” So we should avoid fights, since we do not know the time of our own death. Death can arrive very suddenly.

Geshe Karag Gomchung, a yogi who lived a long time ago in Tibet, gives us an example for meditation on transience. Karag Gomchung was doing a meditation retreat in a cave in

the mountains. He had already been meditating there for a long time. A thorn bush was growing at the entrance to the cave. Every time he had to leave the cave his clothing got caught in the thorn bush. Before he stepped out of the cave he would think: “Actually I ought to cut this thorn bush back, but when I leave the cave it’s not certain if I’ll return. Everything is transient, including my life. So it’s better to use the time to meditate than to cut the thorn bush away.”

When Karag Gomchung entered the cave he would get caught up again with his clothing on the thorns and thought: “I should cut the thorn bush out, but everything is transient. If I go into the cave now I don’t know if I’ll ever leave it again. Therefore it’s better to use the time to meditate instead of wasting it cutting away undergrowth.”

In this way Karag Gomchung meditated on impermanence every time he left or entered the cave. Through this kind of intensive meditation and his preference for meditation he attained siddhi. The thorny undergrowth was never cut away.

Another story about Karag Gomchung shows how important it is to maintain samadhi. It is not in general the material value of daily offerings that matters, but the visualisation during the offering.

An influential lama lived near Karag Gomchung. In the mornings he would offer an offering cake, as is the Tibetan custom. Normally, when such a cake is offered, great swarms of hungry ghosts, beings without bodies, collect to enjoy it. But since Karag Gomchung’s offering cakes were very popular amongst the hungry ghosts, they thought: “We prefer to go to Karag Gomchung and eat his cakes. They are extremely tasty, and we prefer this delicious dainty.” So they always came to Karag Gomchung.

The influential lama thought to himself: “It’s funny, what’s so special about Karag Gomchung’s offering cakes. He must have a terrific offering cake container, better than mine. Probably it’s made of gold or silver.” So one day he sent a monk over, telling him: “Watch exactly how Karag Gomchung offers

his cake.” However, Karag Gomchung just used a tin can. He just put a bit of water in, then added the offering cake. That was all. However, before making the offering of the cake he would remain for a long time in one- pointed samadhi. He' did not own any beautiful or precious containers, but because of the strength of his samadhi all the hungry ghosts experienced the highest sensory enjoyment.

So we should always remain, with unbroken attentiveness, conscious of the certainty of our death even though we do not know its time. In that way we will develop fear and fright about our death. If we also know that at the time of our death only the dharma will be able to help us, then we will automatically and naturally develop diligence, without having to set up rules about our practice.

My students often say: “I do practise, but although I practise I don’t get any fruit. There’s not a single good result to be seen.” Many students have the same experience. Then I always think of the example of the bird. If a bird flies in the sky, it undoubtedly casts a shadow. But because of its height it cannot see the shadow on the ground. When the bird comes down to earth again, it sees the shadow clearly and meets up with it.

Just as a bird cannot see its shadow during flight, so we cannot recognise the result of our practice at the moment, although we have certainly earned one. But at the moment of our death the fruit of our practice will appear.

Nevertheless it is often the case that we don’t make ourselves aware of the coming of death. We push the thought of it away from us. In this way many years, twenty, thirty or more go by without us making any preparation for death.

If I were to relentlessly busy m yself with the senseless activities of this life We give ourselves up to meaningless things that don’t have the slightest use at the time of death or in the bardo. All we do is repeat the senseless activities of this life again and again.

And now return empty handed, this would be completely deluded.

Now we have uniquely got a human body as the precious basis. A sign of how precious this basis is, is that it makes the practice of shamatha possible. With this body we are able to take up the vajra posture and adopt the most important points of body posture, place our hands in the meditation position, and,

with this foundation, meditate well. If the body remains like this, we are able to observe the mental points for meditation. For this reason the human body is compared to a wish fulfilling jewel.

If now, with this uniquely obtained body which is like a wish fulfilling jewel, we are not able to meditate even a bit, then this propitious opportunity would be wasted. It would be the same as arriving at a jewel island and then not taking a single precious stone with us but leaving it again empty handed. A jewel island consists of the most varied jewels. All the stones are precious and the earth is made of gold and silver. If someone came to such a place he would have to be completely blind not to take any jewels with him but to return empty handed.

The same is true if now, with our human body as a basis, we were not to practise the dharma at all but to go into the bardo empty handed. That is also a sign of complete delusion.

Recognising the essential is truly sublime dharma.

The dharma is what we really need. Recognising the necessity and importance of the dharma is truly sublime dharma.

Should I not practise this sublime dharma precisely now?

Now, in this life, with this unique human body as foundation, I have the chance to practise the sublime dharma.

This is how the great siddhas themselves taught it.

The great siddhas are an example of how we can attain realisation through practising the dharma. They have taught us how to practise.

IfI did not treasure the instructions of my lama in my m ind Would I not be deceiving myself?

Not to follow the lama’s instructions nor put them into practice is the same as self-deception.

The quintessence of this teaching is to practise as much as possible in this life, and in doing so it is our motivation that is the most important thing. Therefore we should accompany our practice with wishing prayers for the benefit of all beings, and pray with trust and pure vision to our lama and spiritual friend. That is all that has to be done, without getting into deliberations about whether certain lamas are good or not. If we practise in this way, it is a practise in which everything is contained.

Questions and Answers

QUESTION:

What happens to people who have committed suicide?

ANSWER:

The result is the same as that of killing another person. The deed possesses the same negativity as the killing of another person. It has the same consequences whether I take my own life or that of someone else. I carry the negativity of having killed a human.

QUESTION:

We can’t remember the bardo. Why is that?

ANSWER:

There is a quite clear reason why we no longer remember. It is a similar case to that of buddha nature, the element or potential for buddhahood, which is present in our mind and which possesses all positive qualities, such as omniscience and the power to work miracles. All beings possess this potential. But because of afflictions, because of negative actions it is temporarily veiled. Therefore one can’t remember. None of the experiences of the bardo or the events of our previous lives are present to us now. We don’t know our next birth. All such memories are screened by a temporary obscuration.

QUESTION:

What are the consequences of an abortion for the aborted being? To which bardo existence does it return? What are the consequences according to Buddhist thought for the mother who has had the abortion done?

ANSWER:

If the nadi branches of the cakras at the crown, throat and heart have been formed and the winds and drops are naturally moving in them, then all the conditions are present for all the bardos to take their natural course. Because of the movement of the winds and drops, the appearances of the forms of expression of the wrathful and peaceful deities and of the awareness holders are naturally present. Therefore the consciousness will go step by step from the first day on through the bardo.

The mother has collected as much negativity as a person who has killed someone. To purify this sort of karma and the result of such a negative deed, the Buddha taught that in the

first place there must be remorse. Remorse, by which one recognises: “I’ve really done something extremely negative”.

Then one must make the promise: “In the future I’ll never do such a thing again”. One strengthens such a promise with vows.

If one has felt true remorse and made a vow, one imagines that Lama Vajrasattva is present over the crown of the head and recites his mantra ‘OM BENDZA SATO HUNG’ one hundred thousand times. In this way, all the negativity, regardless of how great it is, is purified through and through. Its karmic fruit will not ripen.

QUESTION:

Suppose that the consciousness manages to attain buddhahood in the tugdam meditation or in the subsequent days by following the correct light. What happens then when one has reached buddhahood? Since we are, after all, keeping the bodhisattva vows, we want another human birth. What is the next step?

ANSWER:

If, for example, you have achieved buddhahood in the pure land of Vajrasattva, you are a perfect buddha free from suffering. But because of your previous bodhisattva vow and the strength of your great compassion you will again develop an emanation. This emanation is capable of manifesting exactly where it is needed, where it can work for the benefit of beings and teach them. One could for instance emanate in the form of a lama or of a spiritual friend. Whatever is needed by beings, one will manifest in this form and possess the power to be of use to those beings.