The Paramita of Wisdom and the Madhyamaka School
INSIGHT MEDITATION
The Paramita of Wisdom and the Madhyamaka School
THE SIXTH PARAMITA is concerned with insight meditation (vipashyana). Whereas the meditation of tranquillity is oriented toward stabilizing the mind, insight meditation is geared toward giving rise to insight or wisdom. When we practice tranquillity meditation, we are only interested in learning how to settle the mind and overcome distractions, in terms of the upsurge of thoughts and emotions. Insight meditation, on the other hand, makes use of thoughts and concepts. However, insight meditation has to be based upon the meditation of tranquillity.
According to Mahayana Buddhism, the sixth is the most important of all the paramitas, because without insight or wisdom, all the other paramitas remain on the mundane level, unable to assume spiritual significance. Paramitas such as generosity, patience, vigor, and even the practice of tranquillity meditation would be corrupted by our well-entrenched habits or deep-seated emotional conflicts and delusions. But it is possible to overcome these obstacles with the practice of insight meditation, so that our practice of the other paramitas can be real rather than provisional. The meditation of insight involves forms of reflection and contemplation, using thoughts and concepts, and with its cultivation we begin to understand more about ourselves and our relation to the external world and reality.
The practice of the other paramitas, which are oriented toward the development of compassion, is not sufficient for us to be able to achieve enlightenment; nor can we do so through the cultivation of wisdom alone. However, with the practice of insight meditation, all the paramitas can be integrated properly and enlightenment achieved. Wisdom and compassion must go hand in hand, as I have said before. This is a very important point. People often criticize Buddhists for being socially unaware. They say that we emphasize the idea of enlightenment, selflessness (or no-self), and meditation while neglecting the social aspects of day-to-day living. But the emphasis on compassion in Mahayana Buddhism means that our involvement with other human beings and other living creatures is just as important as spending time alone in quiet meditation.
Atisha says in The Lamp of Enlightenment (Changchup Lamdön): “Since insight without compassion, and compassion without insight, have been termed bondage, they must not be separated from each other.” It is very important for us to spend time in meditation, trying to understand ourselves and our relationship with the world. At the same time, it is important for us to engage in various physical activities that will be beneficial for ourselves as well as others. In Mahayana Buddhism, compassion has a wider connotation than our normal understanding of that word. Here compassion involves being generous, tolerant, and understanding to all beings. It is not generated only toward people who are deprived of material goods or who are suffering from emotional afflictions.
The types of reflections practiced in insight meditation relate to what we call a meditative way of thinking. Rather than being speculative, it is a way of thinking that relates to practical life. This means that engaging in these kinds of reflections should have an immediate effect in terms of transforming us. It should transform our view of ourselves and the world. So even though insight meditation makes use of reasoning and logic, it does not deal only with abstract matters; it deals with real issues, with how we live and experience the world.
For this reason, in insight meditation we contemplate the question: What is the self? We also contemplate the relationship between the self and the external world, and the nature of ultimate reality. This sort of reflection is considered to be very important even if we have been meditating for a long time. If we have been practicing the meditation of tranquillity but have not been engaged in insight meditation, we will not be able to gain a real understanding of what is meant by the “self,” or what our relationship with the world and ultimate reality is. If we do not have that understanding, then ignorance, the root cause of suffering, will never be eradicated.
MADHYAMAKA: THE SCHOOL OF THE MIDDLE WAY
Various aspects of Mahayana Buddhist philosophy are often used as the basis of insight meditation. There are two major schools of Mahayana Buddhism: one is Madhyamaka, the School of the Middle Way, and the other is called Yogachara or Chittamatra. We will start with Madhyamaka.
In the first chapter I touched on the idea of the Middle Way and how our understanding of ourselves, the nature of the world, and ultimate reality normally falls into the extremity of either eternalism or nihilism. As eternalists we believe that there is a permanent, unchanging, immutable self existing behind or beyond our bodies and our usual experiences of thoughts, feelings, emotions, and memories. In nihilism we think that there is no such thing as self, that there is no mind even, and that only the material world is real. In this materialist position, any concept of self or mind is reduced to brain processes or biological functions.
Different philosophies and religions posit the notion of an unchanging reality or Absolute. Some people understand this in a personal and theistic manner, while others understand it more in an impersonal and metaphysical way. But in both cases there is a belief in an unchanging, permanent, absolute reality that is substantial and inherently existing. Also, physical phenomena such as tables, chairs, mountains, houses, and people are seen as having an inherent existence and an enduring essence or substance. According to Mahayana Buddhism, this belief is founded on ignorance, and the notion of an enduring existence creates suffering. The Buddhist scholar Dignaga says: “When there is a self, one becomes conscious of the other. From ‘I’ and ‘other’ arises the belief in independent existence, and out of antagonism resulting from the union of these two, all evil comes about.”
Out of our conflicting emotions, our sense of anxiety, our sense of uprootedness and alienation, comes this fundamental notion that there is a self that is locked up in our own body and completely independent from an external world. When these concepts are formed, all kinds of conflicting emotions arise, such as grasping, clinging, wanting certain possessions, aversion, hostility, and attempting to shun things that we want to avoid. From this, as Dignaga points out, come all kinds of evil and suffering. Madhyamaka philosophy uses the concept of emptiness as a therapeutic remedy for these ills of samsaric creatures. Realizing that no essences inhere in empirical objects diminishes our tendency to cling to things. Understanding emptiness allows us to see the world as it is and not believe the world as it appears to our deluded mind. Emptiness, or shunyata, in Madhyamaka philosophy does not mean that things do not exist. It does not mean that our everyday experience of the world is somehow completely erroneous, that it is all a dream. Many people in the West think this is exactly what the Mahayana tradition is saying. Just because things lack inherent existence or a permanent enduring essence does not mean they don’t exist. Mountains, chairs, tables, houses, people, cars, and televisions all exist, but they do not have inherent existence.
How does this error arise? The error is not in thinking that things exist but in thinking that these things have some kind of substance that endures. We create problems in our lives precisely because we attach so much importance to things, thinking that they have enduring essence. Then we become so serious; we begin to cling, grasp, and can’t let go. But if we can have the understanding that things do not have an enduring essence or substance, then we can become more flexible, less opinionated, and more accommodating. Emptiness means lack of inherent existence, or being empty of essence or substance.
Madhyamaka philosophy uses all kinds of reasoning to prove that things do not have an enduring essence. I will give just one example here, which relates to causality. Nagarjuna, the founder of Madhyamaka philosophy, says in his text known as Mulamadhyamaka-karika that “neither from itself nor from another, nor from both, nor without a cause, does anything whatever, anywhere arise.” This means that things do not come into being because of a self-existing cause giving rise to a self-existing effect. If a thing came into being out of itself, completely independently of everything else, it should be able to give continuous
rise to certain effects, but that does not happen. Things also do not arise from something other than themselves, another self-existing entity. If that were the case, there would be no causal relationship between the thing itself and the other. There has to be some kind of homogeneous relationship between cause and effect, which is unobtainable if we think of the thing itself and something else that gives rise to it as both being self-existing and totally independent of each other. Things cannot come into being due to both themselves and others, because this position would involve the defects of the previous two positions. If a thing comes into being through something other than itself, the whole idea of causality is put into jeopardy and everything becomes random; anything is able to give rise to anything else. As Nagarjuna said, this would lead to a complete breakdown of the whole idea of causality. Lastly, things do not come into being without any cause.
INTERDEPENDENT ORIGINATION (Pratitya-samutpada)
How, then, do things come into being? They come into being because of what is called interdependent origination, or pratitya-samutpada—that is, due to causes and conditions. This implies that things do not have inherent existence, because if they had any kind of essence or independent existence there would be no need for the whole idea of causality. Nagarjuna says: “The origination of inherent existence from causes and conditions is illogical, since if inherent existence originated from causes and conditions, all things would thereby become contingent. How could there be contingent inherent existence? For inherent existence is not contingent; nor is it dependent on another being. So the very idea of causality involves the notion that things are contingent. There is no being that can exist on its own without depending on anything else; no self-sufficient being. Everything is interdependent. Everything that exists on both the physical and mental plane involves the idea of interdependence, or pratitya-samutpada.”
The teachers of Mahayana Buddhism say that there are two things blocking or hindering us from appreciating this fact; the first obstacle is acquired and the other is innate. The acquired obstacle is that of education and cultural or religious accretions. I don’t want to use the word brainwashing, although that immediately comes to mind. We have been inculcated in a particular way so that we do not stop to evaluate the truth of what we have absorbed through education and through certain familiar concepts. We fail to examine; we just accept things as fact whether they are true or not. These ideas may relate to either of the two extreme views of eternalism or nihilism.
The other obstacle is innate, which means that within the human condition there is an instinctive belief that things do have an enduring essence, even though these ideas are not formulated or articulated. It is said that the first obstacle is easier to deal with because, through intellectual understanding (of Madhyamaka philosophy, for example), we can get rid of a lot of these misconceptions. The innate obstacle is more difficult to overcome. Even when we know
something intellectually, it is usually only through direct experience that we can gain understanding that fundamentally changes the way we think. For that reason we need to have immediate experience of emptiness. However, an intellectual understanding and direct experience are related through mediated understanding using concepts, reason, and so forth. Conceptual understanding can point us in the right direction; then we can have an intuitive or immediate understanding of emptiness.
Zen Buddhists use the example of pointing a finger at the moon. Concepts are useful as long as we don’t look at the fingertip instead of the moon. The finger pointing at the moon can be useful because you know where to look. In a similar way, conceptual understanding should not be underestimated. Even though it does not deliver the final goods, so to speak, it is essential. Through conceptual understanding we gradually develop intuitive understanding, which dismantles the innate, instinctive belief in things having enduring essence, substance, or inherent existence.
Through this type of analysis, the meditator comes to the realization that reality does not fall into either of the two extremes of eternalism or nihilism. Both the Buddha and Nagarjuna have said that the idea of interdependent origination is identical with the concept of emptiness. Nagarjuna has said that emptiness is interdependent origination and interdependent origination is emptiness. So when we say that things are interdependently produced, or that things come into being through the interdependence of causes and conditions, it is the same as saying things are empty by nature. Nagarjuna does not leave any doubt about this question; he says: “That which originates dependently we call emptiness. This apprehension is the understanding of the Middle Way. Since there is nothing whatsoever originating independently, nothing whatsoever exists that is not empty. So emptiness and interdependent origination mean the same thing, and that is the Middle Way.”
Through the understanding of emptiness based upon interdependent origination, we are able to form the right view, which avoids these two extremes of eternalism and nihilism. In Madhyamaka philosophy, ultimate reality is not seen as something that exists outside of or above the empirical reality with which we are confronted every day. Rather, emptiness is the nature of the very world that we live in, so the nature of the empirical world is ultimate reality.
Normally a sharp contrast is made in philosophy and religion between the creation and the creator. There is a big gap between ultimate reality and empirical reality. This is true of the Western metaphysical system, in which the ultimate is atemporal, unchanging, and pure, while empirical reality is impure, changing, and imperfect. The view of the Middle Way is to posit a dialectical relationship between empirical reality and ultimate reality, wherein they cannot be separated. Ultimate reality is found in the midst of empirical reality and not somewhere else; nor is empirical reality denied or undervalued: this is the Middle Way.
Far from being a nihilistic idea, emptiness is in fact a very positive idea. It is because of emptiness that anything can exist at all in the first place. If things had an enduring essence or substance of some kind, we would have to have the concept of a static world. But the world is dynamic; it is not that emptiness causes things to come into being, but rather it allows them to come into being, just as space allows for things to be. Space is often used as an analogy for the concept of emptiness. If space is occupied by something, there is no room for something else to be there. It is because of space that anything and everything can come into being. In a similar way, emptiness allows things to come into existence. Without emptiness nothing could exist.
Because it is inconceivable to think of things not coming into existence, or existing eternally, Nagarjuna makes the following point in the Mulamadhyamaka-karika: “When shunyata is established, the whole world will be established. When shunyata is not realized, it is absurd to think that the whole world is real.” Therefore, shunyata, instead of denigrating the world, affirms it; for it is thanks to emptiness that the world exists, that we exist, and that there is such a thing as a spiritual path and a spiritual goal.
Another way of understanding the relationship between empirical reality and ultimate reality, according to Madhyamaka philosophy, is through the notions of the two truths: relative or conventional truth, and absolute or ultimate truth. Relative truth refers to a perception of the empirical world as it exists. It can also include our distorted ways of apprehending this world, whereby we think of the world as having some kind of inherent existence. Ultimate truth refers to the perception of ultimate reality as emptiness, by means of intuitive understanding, insight, and wisdom.
Nagarjuna makes the point that it is through an understanding of relative truth that we can come to have some understanding of absolute truth. If we ignore or reject our experience of the world as it is, we can never gain any insight. As he says, ultimate truth will not be understood without being dependent upon relative truth. Again, with this concept of the two truths, we can see how they interrelate, and that ultimate truth is not something that exists independently of relative truth. In fact, the ultimate is understood only through an understanding of the relative, because ultimate truth is, in fact, the nature of relative truth. Only with this understanding can we establish the middle view, which is what the name of this particular school (Madhyamaka) means.
It is very important to realize that rejecting the inherent existence of things does not mean rejecting things as such—like houses, cars, and so forth. Nagarjuna repeatedly warns us against interpreting emptiness in such a way, and he is not the only one to do so. In other Mahayana sutras the same point has been made. In a text known as Könchok Tsekpa the Buddha says: “It is better to assume the existence of a real self, although this view is as big and obvious as Mount Meru.1 Yet the pride of believing shunyata as a nonexistent entity is worse.”
Even if one does not have a proper understanding of the lack of inherent existence of the self, and one assumes that there is an unchanging permanent self, Nagarjuna says that this is better than thinking that there is no self at all, or that everything is nonexistent. There is, after all, a practical everyday value in having a conventional notion of a self and the conventional existence of things and entities. The nihilistic view, on the other hand, is extremely dangerous, because it undermines all the ethical concerns of Buddhist theory and practice. Nagarjuna goes so far as to say that anyone who believes that things have an enduring essence or substance is as stupid as a cow, but to say that things have no existence at all is even more stupid (with all due respect to cattle).
Furthermore, the wise cling to neither existence nor nonexistence—that is the Middle Way. Those who have developed insight through reflection, contemplation, analysis, and meditation are able to rise above such notions. This is why wisdom is the most important of the six paramitas, because without it all the others have no meaning. Without it we would not have the understanding that the other paramitas lack inherent existence. So, too, with moral precepts or principles. Such an understanding can be gained only through the cultivation of insight, having a proper understanding of reality and the nature of the self.
This point is made clear by the Buddha in a sutra: “Even if one has kept the moral precepts for a long time and has practiced the meditation of tranquillity for millions of eons, when one does not properly understand the teaching of shunyata, no liberation is possible. He who knows the whole of reality to be lacking in inherent existence will never become attached to it.”
That is the key: through understanding emptiness one is able to overcome attachment, clinging, and grasping. The Bodhisattva seeks to overcome attachment, not so as to become detached or indifferent to the world, but in order to get even more involved with the world. There is no longer that duality existing between the Bodhisattva and others—between the self and the world—because the self and the world both have the same nature, which is emptiness. Therefore, Bodhisattvas are able to execute their compassionate activities in a much more beneficial and far-ranging manner. As this particular sutra makes clear, even if we are doing the right thing according to moral principles, without wisdom we are not able to gain the full benefit from it.
1. Mount Meru is the “world mountain” that stands at the center of the universe.
10
THE ROLE OF THE MIND
The Yogachara School and Buddha-Nature
THE OTHER SCHOOL of Mahayana philosophy is known as Yogachara. Yoga in this context means “meditation,” while chara means “practice”; so Yogachara has been translated as “the school of meditation,” emphasizing the primacy of meditation in understanding ultimate reality (not that the Madhyamaka school doesn’t do this also).
This school is also called Chittamatra—a term that has given rise to much confusion in the West, where it has usually been translated as “mind only.” This has led many interpreters of Mahayana Buddhism to think that this particular school denies the existence of the external world, positing that everything exists only in the mind. As a result, they consider Mahayana to be the same as the Western theory known as idealism. British idealists such as Bishop Berkeley assert that only ideas in the mind are real and that apart from ideas, nothing exists. This is not what the Chittamatrins mean when they say that everything is “mind only.” What they mean is that our perception of external reality is mind-dependent. In other words, we can only have access to the external world through our mind.
Whereas the Madhyamikas emphasize the notion of emptiness, the Chittamatrins emphasize the mind. They say that through understanding how our perception of the external world is dependent upon the mind, we will be able to gain an understanding of emptiness.
THREE ASPECTS OF REALITY
The Chittamatrins or Yogacharins formulate three aspects of reality, called svabhava in Sanskrit. The first aspect of reality is parakalpita svabhava, which has been translated as the “notional-conceptual” level of reality. The Yogacharins say that when we look at things on all different levels—on the sensory level, the conceptual level, or the moral level—we can see that what we experience is colored by our presuppositions, prejudices, and predilections. This means that there is no such thing as objective reality in the ultimate sense.
On a sensory level, for example, we perceive a tree or car with our visual sense, but there is no tree or car existing of its own accord independently of the mind. Insects would not perceive a tree or a car in the way we would, because they lack our concepts relating to trees and cars. These are mental constructions imposed on the sensory impressions. In terms of concepts we can say that God exists or that God does not exist, but for either statement to be absolutely true there must be proof existing independently of the human mind. This also applies to ethics and morality. When people discuss issues like abortion, saying that it is always wrong, they are assuming that there is something absolutely true in itself, independent of the human mind. The Yogacharins say that there is no absolute truth in that sense. As we have seen, according to Madhyamaka philosophy, things lack an enduring essence and are empty of any inherent existence. Based upon this, the Yogacharins say that everything we experience is dependent upon the human mind.
The first of these three aspects of reality, then, is the notional-conceptual. The second aspect of reality is called the paratantra svabhava, which is generally translated as the “dependent” level of reality. This refers to the flow of mental phenomena within consciousness and the way in which we reify concepts, constructing the dualism of subject and object. The third and highest aspect of reality is called the parinispanna svabhava, or “ultimate reality.” This level is devoid of any subject-object duality.
It is the dependent (paratantra) level of reality that is the most important level for the practitioner, because it is this level that connects ultimate reality with the notional-conceptual level of reality. Through meditation practice, we can undermine the dependent level by purifying it of its subject-object discriminations and thereby gain insight into the empty nature of this second aspect of reality. According to Yogachara, through practice and reflection the practitioner comes to realize that much of what we entertain on the notional-conceptual level has nothing to do with reality. This does not mean nothing exists at all, just that we experience it in a distorted manner.
For this reason, the paratantra principle is seen as the substratum—with a part that is deluded and a part that is not deluded—which is imbued with ultimate reality. Because the paratantra, or dependent level, acts as the basis for the parikalpita, or notional-conceptual level, it can be seen as the mediator between the notional-conceptual and the parinispanna, or ultimate level of reality.
We should not think that these three aspects of reality are completely different, since all are empty of nature, and it is only in relation to the deluded mind that we can talk about them at all. Although Yogacharin philosophers accept the notion of emptiness, they emphasize the important and creative role of the mind in how we experience and interact with the world. According to Yogachara philosophy, the source of our delusion is thinking that phenomena exist completely independently of the mind, and not seeing that things are in fact largely constructed by the mind itself.
DELUSION AND THE THREE LEVELS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
To explain how these delusions come about, Yogachara philosophy is unique in positing three levels of consciousness: ordinary consciousness (vijnana), which consists of the five sense consciousnesses plus the thinking mind with all its thoughts, feelings, impressions, and images; the egocentric mind (manas); and the substratum of consciousness (alayavijnana), often called the storehouse consciousness.
Delusions arise from the interaction of these three levels of consciousness. Whatever we experience about the world through our senses is relayed through the egocentric mind. The resultant distorted information is then retained on the substratum of consciousness, the alayavijnana, which has sometimes been compared to the Western notion of the unconscious. According to Yogachara, this is how karmic imprints become entrenched in the mind, and these arise later to influence the way we perceive the world through our senses. Owing to the interaction of these three levels of consciousness, reality becomes distorted. In other words, we have access only to the first aspect of the reality, the notional-conceptual, and have no idea about the relative or the ideally absolute.
The mindfulness and awareness of meditation practice enable us to see how this interaction takes place, how the senses are influenced by these karmic imprints, which arise involuntarily, and how we are often not aware of this process. At the same time, we see how our perception of the external world leaves imprints on our mind, thus fueling the fire of our habitual patterns. The less aware we are, the more habituated we become, and the more we become victimized by the alayavijnana.
The aim of meditation is to transform the alayavijnana. When a fundamental change takes place on this storehouse level, we begin to see how deceived we have been in thinking that things have some kind of independent existence. We do not realize that what we normally consider to be the external world is largely constructed by the mind itself. We can see the deceptive nature of the first aspect of reality—the notional-conceptual—and we begin to gain some appreciation of the two other aspects, the dependent principle and the ideally absolute or ultimate reality.
Another contribution that the Yogachara school has made to the general Mahayana tradition and philosophy is the notion of Buddha-nature or tathagatha-garbha (Tibetan, teshek nyingpo). Many people in the West have heard about this Mahayana concept, which is only associated with Yogachara philosophy. Madhyamaka philosophers talk about absolute and relative bodhichitta, but they do not talk about Buddha-nature as such. Relying on certain authoritative Mahayana sutras, the Yogacharins formulated this concept, by saying that all sentient beings have the seed or potential to obtain enlightenment. No one is excluded. Even if people are not aware of it now, they may become aware of it in the future. It is quite interesting to consider that if everybody has Buddha-nature, then so too must Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Hindus. If, then, they can all become enlightened, does that mean that they must eventually become Buddhists? This raises many interesting questions that I am not going to dwell on at this time; it is a very contentious issue nonetheless. Yogacharins say that all beings—not just human beings, but all sentient beings—have the capacity to become enlightened. Although some will attain enlightenment sooner than others, everyone will achieve enlightenment eventually.
This concept of Buddha-nature has been interpreted in different ways. Some say that everyone has the potential to attain perfection but do not consider human beings as having a perfect nature. Others have interpreted Buddha-nature to mean that not only do people possess Buddha-nature, but this nature is already perfect and complete. The only difficulty is that we do not realize it! It is not like a seed that, left to develop, gives rise to a plant or sprout. Our Buddha-nature is already fully formed or developed, and only the adventitious defilements stand between us and enlightenment. These defilements simply need to be removed through practice.
When we embark on the spiritual journey, we have to realize that we do have the capacity to realize our goals. If we did not have that capacity, then spiritual realization would only be a dream. It would be like a person without arms imagining that he was picking up a huge piece of rock. He can imagine it but he does not have the capacity, I am sorry to say. If people do not have the capacity to see, then you cannot tell them to look. The point is, when we are expected to do something and do it well, we have to have the capacity for it to begin with. Therefore, Buddha-nature represents that spiritual capacity that we already have within ourselves.
Now, if we were innately or intrinsically evil, confused, or deluded, where would that capacity to overcome our delusions come from? We have to have the capacity to transcend our delusions, to go beyond our confusions, to go beyond the various psychological pollutants of the mind. We do have that capacity, according to Mahayana teachings. However, capacity and ability are not the same. We have the capacity, but we may not have the ability. How so? One may have certain talents to do a certain thing, perhaps to play music, paint, write poetry, or some innate talent for philosophizing. Nevertheless, to have ability, we must do something with the capacity that we have. That depends upon a variety of factors, such as the company that we keep, the situations that we are in, and the general opportunity to develop and cultivate our innate capacity. If you have a container full of wheat or barley then you have potential seeds. If you put them into the soil, they have the potential to grow and sprout. However, if you do not do that, then those grains do not have the ability to flourish. They have the capacity, the potentiality to sprout, but they need nourishment to do so. There has to be proper soil. You cannot just take some grains and plant them on the beach. That will not work, the soil condition has to be right. Then you have to water it, and the conducive climactic conditions have to be there. So when we talk about Buddha-nature, the situation is no different. Why? Because while we already have the capacity to attain enlightenment, not all human beings are the same. We have to aim toward equality, we have to aspire toward equality but we are not equal. In fact, we are very different.
FIVE FAMILIES
According to the Mahayana teachings, there are many different kinds of people in the world, but in terms of the spiritual path there are five fundamental categories of people. In texts dealing with Buddha-nature, these different spiritual types are referred to as five families.
The first one is called rik che. Rik means “family,” and che means “cut off,” therefore “cut-off family.” Now what does that mean? It means that despite having the capacity to attain enlightenment, the members of this family, because of various circumstances and situations, including inner psychological inhibitions and resistances, may not avail themselves of that opportunity of awakening. For example, someone brought up in a very violent society or family and taught nothing but violence would not be likely to pay any attention to his or her need to grow spiritually. In this case, the person has the capacity but not the ability. So that is the cut-off family.
The second type is called ma nge. Ma means “uncertain” or “ambiguous,” and nge is “family.” Individuals belonging to this “ambiguous family” do have the interest, but it depends very much on what opportunities are available, what sort of people they come into contact with, what spiritual teachings they receive, and then what they choose to do with those opportunities. Their situation is open. Therefore, ma nge can go one way or the other. In the first group, there was very little chance that an individual would even bother about going to a church, let alone come to a Buddhist retreat center. This person can go either way; that’s why it’s called the “indeterminate” or “ambiguous” family.
The next spiritual type is the Shravaka, or nyenthö. Nyen means people who listen to spiritual teachings, who have some sort of interest or inclination, who want to know more about spiritual teachings and practices. However, they do not in fact do any real practice themselves. It is more a question of accumulating knowledge; they want to know what the teacher said, who lived when, who said what to whom. There is obviously great curiosity about spiritual matters, but no real practice. Some Mahayanists think of Shravakas as being the same as Theravadins, which is totally mistaken. The Theravadins are not equated with the concept of Shravakas. It should be pointed out that Buddhism has always encouraged scholarship and the pursuit of all kinds of artistic endeavors. In fact, many of the Buddhist masters were great poets, great scholars, great artists or sculptors. The point is that if that is all that one is doing—if one is only thinking, “I have to accumulate knowledge, I have to just learn and learn and learn,” without actually putting it into practice—then one remains on the level of the Shravaka, or the hearer family.
The fourth family is known as Pratyekabuddha, or rang sanggye. The Tibetan term means attaining realization through one’s own efforts. Rang means “through one’s own method,” and sanggye means “realization.” Individuals belonging to this family have understood the importance of spiritual practice. They may have already accumu-lated enough knowledge, and now they want to practice. However, they do not want to practice with other people, they want to do it on their own. They are individualists who do not conform to any particular lineage, tradition, or system. They are people who want to dissent and secede, and who may in fact be branded as heretical. This family is about applying oneself vigorously without wanting to have anything to do with a particular religious tradition. It is said that the Pratyekabuddha realizes that everything is impermanent by contemplating the principle of interdependent origination (pratitya-samutpada). For example, when you see someone who has died, you contemplate death and realize that it has come from birth. Through seeing that everything is causally conditioned, you can conclude that everything is impermanent and can gain some kind of spiritual realization in that way.
The fifth spiritual type is the Bodhisattva (changchup kyi sempa). Changchup means “awakening,” and sempa means “being.” These individuals have not only realized the importance of practice but actually want to do something about their practice in relation to others. For them practice is not an individual preoccupation, because they are not doing it only for their own benefit. They are not thinking, “I have to do something because I can understand that my life has become a mess, and I have to get myself out of this predicament.” One can go further than this and say, “I want to practice and I want to help other people, through my practice, through the development of love and compassion.” That is the Bodhisattva family.
So we have got the cut-off type, the ambiguous type, and the type who have embarked on the path with a more intellectual than practice-oriented interest. Then there is the type who only practice for their own benefit, and finally the individuals who are motivated by the interests of others as well as their own. This last type is considered the best in terms of how to realize our inner condition. In this way, we can see that we all have the capacity to become enlightened. However, our ability to realize that potential varies from individual to individual. We all have the same capacity, but some individuals are closer than others to their own natural state, which is Buddha-nature.
THE IDEA OF THE HOLY
Religious philosophers and sociologists all seem to agree on one thing. In all the major world religions, such as Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Islam, and the tribal religions (what used to be known as primitive religions), the main spiritual focus revolves around the idea of the holy. There has to be something sacred, something holy. It does not matter whether you are living in the Amazonian jungles of Brazil, running around barefoot in central Australia, or riding a yak in the mountains of Tibet. All of these different people share a similar religious focus, and that is the need to see something as being holy. Everyday experience is not what leads us to find real fulfillment; rather, fulfillment comes about through contemplating something other than the empirical world in which we live. We find our salvation through contemplating something that is sacred, because we do not think that what we are already experiencing is sacred.
A German theologian named Rudolf Otto, who wrote the books Idea of the Holy and Mysticism, East and West, says that the idea of the holy has a compelling attraction, like a magnet. At the same time, what is considered holy can also generate an enormous sense of trepidation and fear as well as hope. He called this feeling mysterium tremendum. Mysterium means that what is holy is transcendent, beyond our grasp. Its power comes from the fact that we cannot fully comprehend it because of the limited capacity we have as human beings to grasp things that are not normal. It is tremendum because whatever is the “other,” whatever is transcendent, is seen as being a source of dread and fear.
Ancient religions related to gods in a way that allowed for a real sense of closeness between the individual and the gods that they worshiped. They worshipped the gods because they were helpful, but they also feared them at the same time. That is not different from the early Greeks and Romans. Whatever is holy, whatever is godly or divine, is seen as being both attractive and fearful. It is the same with the God of Judaism and Christianity.
According to Western religious scholars, then, the source of religion lies in this human tendency to be attracted to something other than ourselves, but at the same time to experience dread, fear, and awe in relation to it. In most of the world’s religions, except for within certain mystical teachings, the source of what we perceive to be sacred comes from somewhere else, a transcendental source. According to Buddhism, however, the source of holiness is within ourselves. Therefore, it is through practice that we realize that there is a spiritual spring, a reservoir of good, within ourselves. That is what the Mahayana teachings say.
The concept of Buddha-nature is about this inherent holiness. We do not have to be injected with something or receive something from outside as a gift. We do not have to accept any gifts, because we already have what it takes to go where we want to go. In that sense—to put it theologically or philosophically—we can say that what is immanent and what is transcendent have come together. Buddha-nature is transcendent, in the sense that it is not contained by our ego identity. We have to rise above that everyday experience of who we believe we are. On the other hand, Buddha-nature is not something that exists outside of our body and mind, our mental and physical conditions. Therefore, it is both immanent and transcendent.
In any case, Rudolf Otto may be right in saying that we have a very ambiguous approach to our spiritual experiences. We have that in relation to our Buddha-nature as well. For example, people sometimes say that when they meditate, they have experiences that scare them because they do not know where they are going. The experience of going into uncharted territory evokes a sense of fear and dread, even awe. Yet where we are going is no different from where we already are. It’s not as if we are stepping outside of our physical and mental condition and becoming united with an entity outside ourselves. In realizing Buddha-nature, we are taking a journey in which we will return home and find our own “original dwelling place.” This is the expression used in certain teachings of both Tibetan and Zen Buddhism, the original dwelling place. Buddha-nature is the original dwelling place.
We might use the term Buddha-nature or tathagatagarbha as an abstract concept, but in fact, it is not. It is that place where we find ourselves when we are meditating; it is always there. In that way, Buddha-nature is both transcendent and immanent. The soteriological or salvific import of the concept of Buddha-nature lies in the fact that the contemplative attempt to develop an understanding of Buddha-nature allows us to understand who we are. Normally we try to understand who we are in relation to our ego identity, our ego concept. To try to think about ourselves in relation to our Buddha-nature is to think of ourselves from a different perspective, with a wide-angle lens, as it were.
QUALITIES OF BUDDHA-NATURE
According to our definition, to have Buddha-nature is to have the capacity to become enlightened; yet this does not necessarily mean that we have the ability or the means to attain enlightenment. To realize Buddha-nature we have to have a sense of confidence that enlightenment is not some kind of distant possibility but something that we can achieve and experience presently. We may think of enlightenment as existing somewhere in the distance, at the terminus point of our journey. In such a scenario, there is initially no enlightenment and no enlightening experience that one can have. However, that is not the case; enlightenment does not occur only at the end of our journey. It is not as if we have disembarked from this rickety samsaric railway carriage and suddenly go, “Wow, this is real paradise here after all.” It is not like taking those rough train journeys in India where arriving at your destination is the cause of relief! In fact, enlightening experiences occur all the time when you meditate. That is what the concept of Buddha-nature represents.
The teachings on Buddha-nature emphasize that enlightened qualities are already present in us. It is not that we are unredeemable wretched creatures who then develop certain qualities and become enlightened beings blazing with insight, wisdom and wit. What these teachings are saying is that the enlightened qualities are already there. So we need to understand that enlightenment is not a state but a process. We should not be thinking about Buddha-nature as some kind of fixed state, because Buddha-nature and our enlightening experiences go hand in hand. If Buddha-nature were a fixed state, it would have nothing to do with the dynamic process of approaching enlightenment or becoming more enlightened.
Enlightenment and delusion are not two radically different and independent states of being. Rather, delusions and the enlightened experience are interdependent. When you look at it like that, you realize that the experiences and the indications that we receive from having Buddha-nature are not so remote, not so inaccessible and out of reach. They are immediate. In fact, Buddha-nature is our aboriginal state. If it is aboriginal, or primordial, it must be intrinsic to our nature, and if it is intrinsic to our nature, how can we be so distant from it?
In traditional Mahayana literature our samsaric condition is described as impure, permeated with suffering, impermanent, and lacking in self. In the tathagatagarbha literature, however, Buddha-nature is said to be pure, while only samsara is said to be impure—it is pervaded by suffering and impermanent. Self, therefore, is a contingent phenomenon. In the Mahayanuttara-tantra-shastra, which is entirely devoted to a description of Buddha-nature, it is said that Buddha-nature has the qualities of purity, bliss, permanency, and great self. When we look at the concept of Buddha-nature, then, we see that the whole domain of our experience has been revised. Instead of suffering, there is bliss; instead of impermanence, there is a sense of permanence, and so forth.
As you can imagine, concepts like these have generated quite a bit of controversy. What does it mean to be pure, and what does it mean to be impure? Again, according to the Mahayanuttaratantra, we can understand purity and impurity in two different ways. First, we can understand purity in relation to Buddha-nature itself. Buddha-nature has intrinsic purity (rangshin namdak) like a crystal or mirror. However, although the mirror itself is pure, it can get dust on it. For example, an old mirror that has been languishing in the attic will be covered with dust and cobwebs. You cannot see anything. However, if you wipe that mirror clean, then it has the capacity to reflect. In other words, just because Buddha-nature is intrinsically pure, this does not mean we will necessarily have any experience of that purity. We have to engage in practices of all kinds—all the basic dusting, washing, and wiping necessary to bring the mirror back to its original condition. So this is called temporal purity (lobur trel dak) because now the adventitious defilements have been removed from the mind as well.
The second quality that Buddha-nature possesses is bliss (dewa). Buddha-nature is bliss precisely because when we are not interacting with the world from an egocentric viewpoint, we are coming from a point that is open and receptive. We are responding to things rather than reacting to them. When we operate under the influence of ego, with its selfishness, arrogance, self-centeredness, neediness, and greed, we become so completely one-directional and fixated that our vision becomes extremely narrowed. Therefore there is no bliss, only more trials and tribulations from which we can only expect more anxiety, fear and insecurity. The fear of not being liked, of not being accepted—all these things come to the surface and take over. But when one begins to have some intimation of the original state of Buddha-nature through meditation practice, then there is bliss.
Finally we realize how it is possible to become confident without having to be arrogant, selfish, or self-centered, always thinking that we have to come first before anything or anybody else. When our ego identity is so strong we do not feel connected to other people, we do not feel connected to anything. Consequently, our relationship to other people and the world generally suffers. When we are like that, when we have a strong ego identity and we become self-absorbed, we may think, “I’m looking after myself, I have to look after myself.” However, we are not really doing that at all, according to these teachings. In fact, we are doing the opposite. We are really on a suicide mission in a way, because the more self-absorbed and selfish we become, the more difficult it will be for other people to relate to us. We become a nuisance to others and a nuisance to ourselves as well. There is no bliss then; only more pain is in store.
When we practice, and when we become more in touch with our true condition—which is the Buddha-nature—there is a greater sense of relaxation, a greater sense of openness and receptiveness. This provides the conditions for us to be able to respond to things more appropriately and act in a way that is helpful for both others and ourselves, because what is external and what is internal are not different. Then there is bliss.
The third quality of Buddha-nature is permanence (takpa). Here we have to be very careful, for this does not mean permanency in the sense of something that is static, but permanency in the sense of not being swayed by whimsical moods. On a good day, you go to a Buddhist temple, meet this great master, and receive his blessing. You have a fantastic audience, the rapport is there, and everything is hunky-dory. You feel uplifted, your mood is good and you’re feeling all energized and optimistic. Then you come out of the temple and realize that you have a parking ticket, and you’re as mad as hell. All that upliftedness is gone in a second. The feeling of greatness and sense of connectedness that you felt with the teacher has disappeared in a flash. The permanency of Buddha-nature is not like that. It is permanency in the sense that our mood swings and ups and downs in life do not affect the quality of our enlightened state. Our mind might be swayed this way and that way, pushed and pulled and disturbed. But whatever is happening in the mind does not affect our enlightened state. That is why the quality of permanency cannot be understood in the sense of being some kind of static state. The Buddha-nature is not a state at all.
“Great self” (dak) refers to the fact that we all have to be somebody. No one wants to become nobody. We all want to improve our lives; we all want to have a more enriching, happy life. None of us wants to end up not amounting to anything, or thinking that we didn’t do anything to improve our life, or made absolutely nil contribution to the welfare of the society in which we live. Therefore, the notion of the self is very strong and very important in terms of how we see ourselves, how we treat other people and ourselves, how we view things. All of these things relate back to the self. Even to wish for and aspire toward enlightenment requires the concept of the self. We cannot do it otherwise. If there is no one in the train, then the train is empty. We may want to go to
Venice or Florence, but we cannot just imagine that we are there. We have to board the train; we have to hand in our ticket. The spiritual path also requires that someone has taken the journey. Otherwise who is going to benefit from practicing, who is going to get anything out of it? If practice means dismantling all notions of one’s self, then whatever this concept of self is could totally disintegrate. Then it would have been a very tedious, painful, and ultimately self-defeating task—a journey that has led to an abyss; a train that has gone off the edge of the cliff.
I think it is very important to understand that practice does not mean we get rid of the notion of ourselves altogether. We have to understand that the self-image we have is a construction of the mind. It has its use, albeit a limited use. Through practice we have to rise above it and go beyond it, all the while relating to that conventional self—the ordinary everyday self. We have to refer constantly to this conventional self, but we also have to go beyond it. As I said previously, in terms of transcendence, we have to step out of the conventional ideas of who and what we are; otherwise the tendency to perpetuate our old well-entrenched habits will continue forever. With the concept of Buddha-nature, we have a greater sense of self—great self—not the self that we are accustomed to, but a self where we are able to rise above that conventional self. We can relate more clearly, observe more, become more sensitive, have more feelings of connection.
HOW BUDDHA-NATURE EXISTS
Buddha-nature has those four characteristics, but what is the status of Buddha-nature? To put it in philosophical terms, what is the ontological status of Buddha-nature apart from its soteriological orientation and salvific import? In terms of its ontological status, our mind is constantly bogged down by thoughts of whether something exists or does not exist. If something exists it is real; if something does not exist, it is not real. This dualistic way of thinking is so predominant and so much a part of our mental habit that we find it very difficult to escape from. However, when we start to think about the ontological status of Buddha-nature, we do not think about existence and nonexistence. Buddha-nature does not exist in the same way as tables and chairs. Nevertheless, it is also not nonexistent. The ontological status of Buddha-nature—how the Buddha-nature exists—is different from how everything else exists. We cannot say Buddha-nature exists in the way we think of empirical objects in the world existing, or even mental states. When we say everyone is in the possession of Buddha-nature it is not like owning something. It is not like owning a house or a car or a body. We think it should be like this; we have a house, we have furniture—that’s the way it should be, that’s the kind of world we should be living in—but we don’t own Buddha-nature in that way. The closest analogy for Buddha-nature is that of space. Space does not exist as the clouds within space exist; the way it exists is of a different order. We cannot say whether space exists, meaning we cannot say it is like some substantial, inherently existing thing, and we cannot say that it does not exist, that it’s nothing. Space is not nothing because without space—again to a Buddhist way of reasoning—we would not have all the galaxies and planets; even this thought would not be here.
In a fashion, Buddha-nature exists, but to say that it exists is more like a metaphor. You can only really refer to it in an oblique fashion; you cannot pin it down so easily, because Buddha-nature in itself is nothing; it is not a substance. Buddha-nature is not a psychic substance of any kind. It is intrinsically empty, but at the same time, Buddha-nature is the source of enlightenment. Without Buddha-nature, we would not be able to attain enlightenment. If there were only ignorance, conflicting emotions and conceptual proliferation, it would be impossible to find a way out. So in that sense, Buddha-nature exists, but it does not exist as a substantial entity.
According to Mahayana Buddhism, Buddha-nature is not part of causes and conditions, but is self-presenting. We develop a whole new perspective in relation to how we see ourselves when we no longer operate from within the conventional context of ego identity. We have a more expansive view in relation to our abilities and how we are able to see things. We are less opinionated; one is able to embrace things more. That in itself becomes a liberating force. To be somebody, to have a rich life, to have a life-affirming attitude, does not require one to be self-centered, greedy, or dependent. In fact, when we begin to learn how to rise above our self-image, our life becomes automatically enriched—spiritually, psychologically, in relationships, and in all kinds of other ways. Ego obsession is imprisoning; we become so self-absorbed that we are totally closed off, oblivious to our surroundings and to other people. All we can think of is our own pain, unhappiness, and frustration. That is why samsara is painful. If, through meditation practice, we can make a little more sense of what it is to be in our original dwelling place—the Buddha-nature—then we come home. We feel a sense of connectedness, less alienated, less cut off. It is not always the case that other people are alienating us; we do that to ourselves. Each individual is communicating less and less and then we start to wonder, “Why isn’t anyone talking to me? Why is that person acting in such a manner?” Is it because we have become so self-absorbed that we are thinking that everyone has turned against us? In fact, it may even be the other way around: there may be people trying to communicate and trying to help, but because of self-absorption, we cannot see it, we have become totally closed off. So there is no feeling of connectedness. That is why it is so important to have some understanding of Buddha-nature.
SPIRITUAL PROGRESS
The Five Paths and the Ten Stages of the Bodhisattva
THE CONCEPT OF “PATH” is extremely important in Buddhism, which places emphasis on our individual capacity to achieve liberation or enlightenment by ourselves, rather than relying on the power of another. When we embark on a journey, when we travel on the path, we must do so alone. No one else can do it on our behalf. It is like getting to know a new country: if we want to see it, we must go there ourselves. Others may come back with photographs and give us an idea of what the place is like, but this is no substitute for our firsthand experience.
However, people who have visited a particular place and come back with photos and stories may be able to tell us how to actually make that journey ourselves, and how to make it in a pleasant rather than a painful way. In a similar way, even though we must make the spiritual journey ourselves, we can receive guidance and information from others, and this is provided by Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. In this way, from the Buddhist perspective, embarking on the spiritual journey, or traveling on the path, is an essential concept.
The other notion involved with this idea of traveling on the path is that even if there is no substantial, permanent, independent, inherently existing self or ego, that does not mean that there is no one to travel on the path, that there is no one to become transformed from a state of delusion and confusion.
Egolessness is not the same as self-extinction. We do not cease to exist, but we come to know more about ourselves. Realizing that there is no unchanging self can in fact be an enriching experience. The path consists of working with ourselves so that gradually, by overcoming the various inhibitions, confusions, and delusions of the mind, we start to develop more insight into our own nature.
When we look at ourselves in the present moment, we see all kinds of confusions and defilements in our mind. Yet the possibility of overcoming all that and becoming enlightened is a reality. Our own lives become enriched from having undertaken this journey. So it’s important not to mistranslate this concept of selflessness or nonexistence of ego. To say that we do not exist at all is the nihilistic view, which the Buddha rejected completely.
As we saw earlier, there are two different ways to attain the goals of liberation and enlightenment. One is the Shravaka method, which aims to attain enlightenment for one’s own sake. The other is the Bodhisattva approach, which consists in working for the benefit of others and thereby attaining enlightenment. Both approaches are legitimate. We can attain the goal from either perspective. Whichever approach we take, there are five stages of progress or development along the path that we travel: the path of preparation (also called the path of accumulation), the path of application, the path of seeing, the path of meditation, and the path of no more learning. The first two, the path of preparation and the path of application, are normally referred to as worldly paths, whereas the last three are known as supramundane paths. On the last three paths, there is a greater development of wisdom. From the Buddhist perspective, without wisdom we operate on the level of a worldly person. No matter how kindhearted we are, or how well behaved we may be, if we are devoid of wisdom, we are still operating within the context of this world and not the world of spirituality.
Wisdom does not necessarily mean being clever. Wisdom in Buddhism has more to do with having a real understanding of ourselves and the phenomenal world. On the Shravaka level it means understanding impermanence, and on the level of the Bodhisattva it means understanding emptiness. A really spiritual person must possess the qualities of compassion and love as well as wisdom. Even if compassion and love are present in the mind-stream of a particular individual, if that person is lacking in wisdom he or she is still not a fully developed person.
THE PATH OF PREPARATION
On the path of preparation or accumulation, we must initially recognize that the samsaric condition in which we have been living is completely unsatisfactory and unfulfilling. Without that recognition, there is absolutely no chance of making any kind of spiritual progress at all. The samsaric condition is basically a condition of the mind, not of the external world (although many people assume otherwise). Samsara is not the material world in which we live—houses, trees, mountains, rivers, animals, and so forth; rather, it is the mind that is constantly busy and never able to remain still for a moment. The samsaric condition is created by a mind that constantly reaches out, grasping this and rejecting that, filled with immense craving, which a person will do anything to satisfy. Much of the time, the delusion of anger or hostility has its origins in this first delusion of excessive desire. When excessive desire is present, anger and hostility naturally arise because they are evoked by frustrated desires.
What produces this agitation of the mind, itself caused by excessive desire or hostility and resentment, is the presence of ignorance. This means not realizing what is really beneficial for ourselves and what is really harmful. If we are able to realize that the negative emotions in which we indulge are not at all helpful but are in fact extremely harmful, the desire to overcome them will arise.
We must come to this realization because we are seeking true, lasting, permanent happiness. We normally think that this kind of happiness can be obtained by grasping at things that by their own nature are impermanent. So we think, for example, that if we get married, all of our problems will be solved; if we have children, that will be wonderful; if we get a promotion at work, many of our problems will disappear. Buddhism does not say that we ought not to have experiences of temporal happiness or pleasure. But it does say that we do not normally think of these as temporal pleasures; in fact, we think of them as a permanent source of happiness, and this is where our mistake lies, caused by our ignorance.
Naturally this does not mean that we should necessarily reject experiences of temporal happiness or pleasure, but we should realize that these are only temporary, because whatever we can obtain in this life can also be lost. Children can be lost, we can be divorced from our spouses, we can lose our jobs, we can suffer loss in terms of business—all these things can and do happen. If we have not followed a spiritual path, our life will be completely devastated by such events, because we have concentrated purely on what we have rather than what we are.
Spiritual practice is about being, or becoming, a different person; having a different experience of our own being. It has scarcely anything to do with what we have in terms of job, family, and so forth. This does not mean that we should reject our family in order to be spiritual, or that we should stop working and live in the jungle in order to be spiritual. Even the happiness that we may feel in the jungle will turn into unhappiness when the mosquitoes and the snakes start biting! Real happiness has to come from within, from having a greater understanding of ourselves. As our inner struggles and conflicts gradually lessen and we become more integrated, we gain a sense of peace. We will not stop having problems in life, because many problems come from the external world. However, the inner sense of integration enables us to deal with whatever arises in our life. This is the kind of thing we have to work with on the path of preparation.
We begin to realize where the real source of happiness lies, and this makes us keen to pursue the path. If we are not convinced, if we are not looking forward to our destination, the journey cannot take place.
The Four Foundations of Mindfulness
We now turn to some of the subjects and practices described in previous chapters, and place them in the context of the Mahayana path.
The path of preparation is divided into three stages. At the first stage, the practitioner has to realize that meditation is the antidote for the fragmented, distorted, and confused mind that experiences inner conflicts. No other method is more efficient than the practice of meditation, which enables different kinds of centering of the self to take place. This is different from ego-centeredness or self-centeredness. It is achieved through shamatha, the meditation of tranquillity, which has to be complemented by the practice of vipashyana, the meditation of insight. In this particular case, the vipashyana practice consists of the four foundations of mindfulness. The four foundations of mindfulness are mindfulness of body, mindfulness of feeling, mindfulness of mind, and mindfulness of the phenomenal world. Through the practice of vipashyana the meditator comes to realize that everything is subject to change. From the Buddhist point of view the understanding of impermanence is fundamental. Some people understand this on an intellectual level only, but it has to become a personal experience. If the way in which we live our life reflects this understanding, rather than a mere intellectual knowledge of it, when changes occur in our life we are actively helped by this understanding.
In order to personalize this understanding, we engage in the practice of the four foundations of mindfulness. What could be more personal than our own body, feeling, and mind, and our own perception of the phenomenal world through the senses? We observe the body to see changes on the physical level; we observe our feelings of joy, pain, and so on; and we observe our mind—its thoughts, concepts, whatever is arising in it. For example, we may think we are depressed, and this seems to be one continuous state of mind. But as we become more observant of the mind, we realize that even our depressed state is interrupted by moments of joy, or of some other state.
Similarly, we also realize that what we perceive through our senses of the external world is subject to change. In the material world, some changes occur very rapidly, while others occur only very slowly but at a steady pace. Geologists say the Himalayas are becoming taller, but this is happening so slowly that we cannot observe it. Nonetheless it is taking place. So even those material things that seem very solid and real are also insubstantial, in the sense that they are also subject to change. They are not immobile or static. On the level of the first path, the path of preparation, the practitioner has some real understanding of impermanence, which is gaining insight into the nature of things. This is different from the shamatha experience of tranquillity.
This experience of impermanence should be seen as a positive rather than a negative. We should not despair because everything perishes. To be vibrant, to be active, not to remain in a state of inertia, is a good thing. Change in all different ways can be a very positive experience. If there were no change, how could we ever overcome our delusions? How would it be possible to eradicate ignorance and defilements? It’s possible precisely because mind and consciousness can be transformed by practice and training. The whole idea of transformation means change. That’s how an ordinary sentient being can become an Arhat or Buddha.
The Four Abandonments
The second stage of the path of preparation is attained when the individual starts to progress in the practice of the four abandonments. These four practices consist of trying to exercise control over our negativities and at the same time trying to prevent potential negativities from arising in the future. Buddhism asserts that there is an intimate relationship between thoughts and actions, and there is thus a connection between the practice of morality and our sense of well-being and health. The practice of morality is not just a matter of following rules, acting out of a sense of duty and obligation. We engage in wholesome deeds precisely because this is how we can experience a positive state of mind. This in turn leads us to the experience of physical and mental well-being. Conversely, engaging in negative states of mind leads us to behave negatively. This produces further mental agitation, anxiety, and fear, which cause imbalance in both mind and body.
Being positive in this context means that we are observant in the practice of mindfulness, observing our body, speech, and mind. It is said that negative habits are formed through not paying enough attention to our physical behavior and our verbal and mental processes. So we need to become more attentive. This is not the same as being self-conscious. Sometimes people say that they have been trying to practice mindfulness but that causes them to become self-conscious, and when they become self-conscious they feel paranoid. It’s not as if we are observing ourselves in the same way that someone else would watch us. That would just make us feel exposed and very vulnerable. We simply look at what’s going on in our mind and how we operate in the world.
Modern neurologists and other scientists also say that our character and personality are intimately linked to our sense of well-being, and the likelihood of our suffering from heart disease, high blood pressure, and similar conditions. Since Buddhists view thoughts, emotions, actions, morality, and physical and mental well-being as interconnected, we engage in these four contemplations: first, preventing potential negativities from arising; second, trying to deal with those which have already arisen; third, cultivating positive qualities that have not yet arisen; and last, developing those which have already arisen.
It’s important to realize that our negative thoughts and emotions are not negative in an absolute form, but only in relation to the effects they have on our mind and our state of being. That’s why they should be avoided, not because they are inherently bad. So when they arise, we should just think of them as negativities with which we have to work and which can be overcome.
The Four Limbs of Supernatural Powers
The last stage of the path of preparation is achieved when the practitioner applies what are called the four limbs of supernatural powers. Here the miracle has more to do with hard work than any kind of intervention from the divine. The first limb is inclination, the second is effort, the third is intention, and the last is analysis.
First of all, we must have the inclination, or we would not start anything. In order to accomplish any project, the inclination and interest have to be there. Interest is followed by effort, or vigor. If interest is present, it becomes easier to apply ourselves and focus attention on the task at hand. The next factor is intention, by which we mean that the practitioner has made a commitment to develop positive qualities, and work toward overcoming the negative tendencies of the mind. The last factor is analysis, meaning that we have to analyze and see what is beneficial and what is not beneficial for us and others. This is not done by using thinking and concepts in our normal way, which only generates more confusion. Rather, we use our thinking power and conceptual skills to analyze what is beneficial and what is not beneficial.
Buddhism does not discourage thinking, but it does discourage excessive thinking, which doesn’t lead us anywhere. Much of the thinking that occupies our mind for twenty-four hours a day is motivated by delusions of excessive attachment, anger, resentment, confusion, pride, ignorance, and so on. We can use our thoughts more constructively than this, which is what we are recommending here.
In this way, the traveler on the spiritual path is able to go through the three stages of the first path, the path of preparation.
The path of preparation establishes us in spiritual practice by turning us away from our everyday concerns to a large extent. Turning away from samsaric preoccupations doesn’t necessarily mean that we have to abandon them completely. It is more that we work with the attitude we have toward things and toward other people.
What binds us to the samsaric condition is not things in themselves but our attachment to them, the unceasing craving and grasping that arise in the mind. It is these that we have to work with. Material wealth can become a hindrance, for example, if attachment, clinging, and grasping are present in the mind of the individual.
The sharp distinction between the spiritual and the material that is common in the West is quite foreign to the Buddhist way of thinking. Whether we are spiritual or not is fundamentally dependent on our attitude, how we see the world and how we interact with other sentient beings. The samsaric condition is created not by the external world or conditions that exist outside of ourselves, but by the disturbed mind.
So that’s what the path of preparation is all about. We try to train ourselves in such a way that we are able to make progress on the path. It’s also called the path of accumulation (of merit), because we can reorient ourselves to become the proper vessel in order to develop further. The idea of being a vessel is very important in Buddhism. It means that if we have been unable to create the appropriate mental conditions to give rise to certain spiritual qualities, then no matter what sort of master or spiritual teacher we are in contact with, no matter which texts we have read and understood, nothing much will happen. This is because we have been unable to create in ourselves a real spiritual vessel that is able to contain the qualities necessary for our development. We need to be open and have a sense of receptivity in our mind-stream. By developing in this way, we are able to embark on the next path, the path of application.
Returning Home
The Bodhisattva perspective on these first two paths differs slightly from the Shravaka one. In addition to the practices shared with the Shravakas, the Bodhisattva is able to generate bodhichitta, or the compassionate concern for all living creatures. This commitment to caring for others actually comes from the way in which the Bodhisattva understands himself or herself, as having Buddha-nature within. From the Bodhisattva perspective, the journey is not necessarily a linear one, in which we leave samsara and arrive at nirvana, but is more like returning home.
If we see our own ego as being the principal source of our identity, this causes feelings of alienation, rejection, and disengagement. But if we begin to realize that our own nature is that of the Buddha, and that everyone else has this same nature, we feel more affinity with other sentient beings.
There are stories in the Mahayana sutras about this process of leaving home and returning home. We got lost by becoming completely enmeshed in the samsaric condition and seeing the ego as our principal source of identity. As we come to realize our own Buddha-nature through practice, we start to find our way home and in fact discover that our home has always been here, but for some reason we have not been able to see it. Instead, we have been taking refuge in an alternative “home” that is not truly our own.
THE PATH OF APPLICATION
The path of application, or path of junction, consists of meditation on the Four Noble Truths—the truth of suffering, the truth of the origin of suffering, the truth of the cessation of suffering, and the path that leads us out of suffering. It is important to understand suffering in order to overcome it. If we do not fully acknowledge that suffering is a reality, it is very unlikely that we will make any real effort to overcome it. So first we must acknowledge the existence of suffering fully and in a realistic manner.
As part of the practice of the path of application there are four meditations, each associated with one of the Four Noble Truths. The four meditations are on suffering, impermanence, emptiness, and selflessness.
Several meditations are practiced in connection with the first Noble Truth. The first practice is the meditation on suffering itself. Three different types of suffering are described in the teachings. One is “conditioned suffering”: the fact that everything is subject to change and is the product of causes and conditions naturally produces suffering in us. Particularly when things are pleasant and joyous, we do not want these situations to change. But because everything is subject to change, sooner or later we have to accept the fact that what used to give us pleasure no longer does so, or even becomes the cause of unhappiness. Old age is an example of conditioned suffering. Whether we go to the gym or not, whether we have liposuction or breast implants or go to the plastic surgeon to remove wrinkles, the fact of the matter is that we are getting older. This is something that we have to accept. I’m not saying that people should not try to look more youthful, but they need to be more realistic about such things.
The second kind of suffering is the “suffering of change.” This includes our anticipation that if we change our job or change our partner, we will be happy. But because the mind has not changed, the suffering continues.
The third kind is the “suffering of suffering.” We are already suffering in some way, then something else goes wrong and we suffer even more. All these types of suffering can be handled if we have done some spiritual practice, because then we are not so overwhelmed by these experiences. But if we have not been trained, we experience real mental anguish and frustration. So we should not think of the Buddhist teachings on suffering as pessimistic or exaggerated. There is no exaggeration, because we all experience this on a daily basis.
The next meditation on the first Noble Truth, the truth of suffering, is the meditation on impermanence. When we are suffering, we do not look at the causes and conditions that have given rise to the experience of suffering. We are so engrossed in the experience that we forget that the experience itself is part of the causes and conditions. The intensity of the experience of suffering prevents this insight from occurring.
The third practice is the meditation on emptiness. The practitioner has to realize that the experience of suffering itself has no real enduring essence or reality. This comes from the meditation practice I just mentioned, through realizing that suffering is produced by causes and conditions.
The last meditation associated with the truth of suffering is the meditation on selflessness. The practitioner has to realize that there is no permanent, unchanging self that is enduring all these unpleasant experiences. The belief that there is something called a “self” or a “soul” that is unchanging and permanent is so strong as to be almost instinctive. Even our language accustoms us to saying things like “my feelings,” “my memory,” “my body,” “my passions,” “my emotions,” “my thoughts,” “my concepts,” and we regard the self as something that exists over and above all these things. Buddhist teachings say that this is completely fictitious and fabricated by the mind.
From the Buddhist perspective, the self should be seen as dynamic and alive, not static and fixed. If the self were to be completely unchanging, it would not be affected by whatever goes on in the mind. But if it were untouched by our thoughts, feelings, emotions, and concepts, then what use would the self have, even if it existed?
To be able to experience things in an emotional way and use our thoughts in a creative manner is what makes our life interesting. When we think of ourselves as a fixed entity, when we say, “I was hurt so badly,” we are unable to let go. But if we think of ourselves as being in a dynamic process continuously, our fixation on the past will be greatly reduced. Then we can really take charge of our lives. We are able to deal with our present experiences and even reconcile the past, as well as having a greater understanding of how to work with our future situation. This constantly dynamic self is an important idea in Buddhism. Without it we cannot make any spiritual progress at all.
The next of the Four Noble Truths is the truth of the origin of suffering. According to the Buddhist teachings, the fundamental source of suffering lies within, in our grasping and clinging. These produce suffering. The injustices that exist in the world, the poverty and so on, are also reflections of the individual mind. Fundamentally, all the different kinds of suffering which are experienced in the world have their origin in the mind and are created by clinging and grasping.
The first contemplation on the truth of the origin of suffering involves “causes.” Instead of thinking that suffering exists and this is just a fact, we have to look at the causes. We have to see where suffering originates, how it is caused and in what manner it arises. The second is the contemplation of “effect,” an inquiry into what sorts of effects are produced by what sorts of causes. The Buddha said that anyone who can really understand the relationship between cause and effect understands his teachings properly. Thus causality is seen as central to Buddhist philosophy.
The third contemplation is the contemplation of “appearance,” which means looking at the experience of suffering itself. The last contemplation is on “conditions.” There are not only causes present, but conditions also, in order for the effects to come into being.
These four contemplations have one aim in common, which is to correct our understanding of how things happen. For example, many people believe that the first cause, or the final cause, is some form of God. According to the Buddhist teachings, becoming familiar with the contemplations mentioned above corrects the kind of understanding that says that there are first causes or final causes, there is a creator, and so on.
The next truth is the truth of cessation. Cessation means that it is possible to end our experience of suffering and mental torment. It is a possibility and it can be done. The first contemplation of this truth involves the “conviction” that impurities of the mind can be eradicated and abandoned. The second consists of the “contemplation of quiescence,” which means that suffering can be completely eradicated and that there will be no suffering left when we attain nirvana. We gain complete conviction of the possibility of attaining permanent quiescence.
The third contemplation is that of “excellence,” meaning that we realize that shamatha meditation experiences fall short of real spiritual practice. Such meditation is unable to provide the practitioner with the final liberation, which has to come from vipashyana. The fourth contemplation is on “renunciation.” This consists of realizing that all the defiling tendencies of the mind can be renounced and that liberation can be attained as a consequence.
We now arrive at the three contemplations of the truth of the path. The first involves contemplating the path and seeing it as the vehicle that is capable of transporting us from samsara to nirvana. Not only is it possible to bring suffering to an end, but we realize that there are methods that can be employed in order to do so. And this is what the contemplation of the path consists of. The second contemplation is on attainment, by which we realize that the path we are following is the correct path, and we have no interest in deviating from that. The third contemplation is on liberation. We realize that by following the Eightfold Noble Path we can achieve liberation, and we can go beyond the samsaric condition with which we have become very familiar.
By contemplating the Four Noble Truths in this way, practitioners on the path of application are able to develop through the next four stages.
Four Levels of Attainment
The fundamental insight developed from the practice of the contemplations on the Four Noble Truths is to realize that everything arises from causes and conditions. This insight brings about the first level of the path of application, which is called heat, or tummo in Tibetan. Tummo in this context is used as a metaphor. Just as heat is an indication of the presence of fire, so when the practitioner has arrived at the first level of the path of application, which is heat, he or she begins to experience the heat of the fire of wisdom or insight.
Just as fire has the capacity to burn wood or debris and to consume it, similarly wisdom has the capacity to consume the defilements and obscurations of the mind. The experience of heat is followed by the second level of the path of application, tsemo, which means “summit” or “peak.” The practitioner at this level has been able to work with and perfect all the positive qualities of a worldly person.
Until we have been able to attain the third path, which is the path of seeing, whatever we have developed up to that point is still very much involved with what are called the worldly virtues and qualities, rather than the transworldly ones. The reason why the good qualities developed on the level of peak still remain within the realm of mundanity and not supramundanity is that real insight is developed at the level of the path of seeing and not before.
The experience of peak is followed by what is called patience, or söpa in Tibetan. This is not patience in the ordinary sense, but is concerned more with fearlessness. The practitioner is no longer afraid of concepts such as impermanence, nonsubstantiality, and emptiness. Instead of thinking of them as something negative or frightening, the practitioner has full confidence in their reality. Real conviction is established, based on an attitude of being completely fearless.
The path of application culminates in the attainment of excellence of the worldly spiritual qualities. This is called chöchok in Tibetan, which means “most excellent of dharmas,” but in this context it means “dharmas associated with worldly attainments.” The experience of supreme or excellent spiritual qualities of the worldly person produces an insight that is very similar to that of someone on the path of seeing.
According to the teachings, once the second level of the path of application has been attained, it is practically impossible for practitioners to regress. Whatever qualities they have been able to develop will remain, and they cannot slip backwards. After the level of patience, it is not possible to fall into lower forms of existence. For example, if you want to become a musician and you practice every day, you become very good at it. After that, even if you do not practice for many years it is easy to pick it up again. But if you have been half-hearted in your practice, and then you neglect it for a few years, when you try to go back to it, you have to virtually start all over again. It’s as if you had never learned any music whatsoever. It’s the same with Dharma practice. Doing some spiritual practice as often as we can, on a daily basis, is more fruitful than doing a lot of practice for a short time, followed by no practice for a long time.
The experience of supreme or excellent qualities of the worldly spiritual person leads to the realization of the path of seeing. It gets its name from the fact that for the first time the practitioner gains true insight into reality. This path of seeing has been attained because the “five spiritual faculties” have been developed to the utmost level on the third level of the path of application. These faculties are heat, effort, mindfulness, concentration, and insight or wisdom. Just as our physical sense organs and faculties enable us to see the world more clearly and to function better, similarly, we can perceive reality in its true form by developing the five spiritual faculties.
THE PATH OF SEEING
The last level of the path of application is the end of the worldly spiritual path. From here on it is called the “supramundane spiritual path.” This starts with the path of seeing. In Mahayana Buddhism, the path of seeing coincides with the first stage, or bhumi, of the Bodhisattva. The reason why this is called the path of seeing is that for the first time the practitioner has come face to face with ultimate reality and sees it for the first time. From now on, whatever one does is unsullied activity. One is not bound by karma anymore, because one’s actions do not lead to the creation of further karma.
Insight into Ultimate Reality
In the Shravaka teachings, insight into ultimate reality is gained through formal retreats in which the practitioner undergoes the “sixteen moments of realization”—four associated with each of the Four Noble Truths. A “moment” here does not necessarily mean just one moment of time. It could be more akin to what we normally mean by an event.
The four realizations associated with the first of the Four Noble Truths begin with “patient acceptance” of the reality of suffering, followed by the “dharma knowledge” of the reality of suffering. These are the first two moments, and both are involved with the mind state of what is called the “desire realm.”
Then follow the second two moments, which are the subsequent patient acceptance of the nature of suffering, and the subsequent dharma knowledge of the reality of suffering, associated with the realms of form and formlessness. These moments of realization are applied to the other three Noble Truths as well, until sixteen such moments are attained.
The “form” and “formless” realms referred to here mean that the practitioner has been able to attain altered states of consciousness. While the first two moments correspond to the normal state of consciousness (the desire realm), the last two moments correspond to these altered states of consciousness (the form and formless realms).
“Patient acceptance” can be understood as more like “conceptual understanding,” and “dharma knowledge” means direct experience, or a “nonconceptual direct knowledge” of the Four Noble Truths. Patient acceptance enables us to remain on the path in an uninterrupted manner, without being sidetracked, and direct experience of reality helps us to come closer to attaining liberation.
Even though all this may seem a bit complicated, I think it is important to cover it in the way in which it is discussed in the teachings. This is how the Shravaka practitioner realizes ultimate reality on the path of seeing.
The Bodhisattva path of seeing occurs when the Bodhisattva attains the first level, or bhumi. He or she gains insight into ultimate reality, which is shunyata. As I mentioned previously, “emptiness” or “voidness” in the Mahayana teaching does not refer to things not existing or being empty as we normally understand it. Rather, emptiness means that nothing has any kind of enduring substance or essence. The nature of the phenomenal world itself is emptiness. An intimate relationship exists between ultimate truth, which is emptiness, and relative truth, which is the empirical world. Chandrakirti has said that without relying on relative truth we will not understand ultimate truth. Therefore, we should not say that this empirical world is completely illusory and nonexistent. That is not the Mahayanist view of emptiness. To recapitulate further, to think that everything has substantial or inherent existence is to fall into the other extreme. That’s why it is said that in order to understand emptiness one has to develop the middle view, the view that does not fall into either extreme of eternalism or nihilism.
We are normally unable to perceive things in their true perspective. Some kind of distortion has been introduced either in terms of our visual organs or in terms of the mind. The teachings present examples such as mistaking a rope for a snake. The rope is there, but to think that the rope is a snake is to misperceive it. Similarly, to think that things have some kind of inherent existence is to misapprehend or misperceive their reality. At the same time, to think that there is nothing at all is to completely misunderstand what is meant by emptiness.
The difference between realizing nonsubstantiality and realizing emptiness is not a difference of kind but of degree. According to the teachings, the Bodhisattva, who understands emptiness, has a more subtle understanding of the nature of things than the Shravaka, who understands nonsubstantiality. Nonsubstantiality is realized through contemplation of causality. If we become very familiar with how the causal nexus operates, our understanding of the nonsubstantiality of things is greatly increased, and from that comes realization of emptiness. Otherwise, we may still cling to some idea of a creator, for example, or to the notion that change is more like transformation and that there is an unchanging reality or substance.
Various theories of atomism say that gross objects like tables and chairs do change, but they are constructed of atoms and these atoms do not change. So it is believed that atoms in themselves have some kind of substantial existence. However, if we become familiar with Buddhist ideas of causality and emptiness, we can see that such theories of atomism are very misleading. That’s why Nagarjuna said that because of emptiness, everything is possible. If things had a fixed essence, change would be impossible. Without change, nothing could happen. So, instead of thinking of emptiness as negative, we should consider that it is because of emptiness that the world can function at all. Emptiness makes it possible.
THE SEVEN LIMBS OF ENLIGHTENMENT
The Bodhisattva on the first level realizes emptiness for the first time, by realizing the seven limbs of enlightenment. These consist of mindfulness, awareness, discriminating wisdom, effort, joy, concentration, and equanimity. These qualities in the seven limbs exist before they are realized on the path of seeing, but at this stage they are able to mature. From the Shravaka perspective, these qualities are developed from the practice of shamatha, vipashyana and contemplation of the Four Noble Truths. From the Bodhisattva perspective, they develop from the practice of the six paramitas. Having these qualities helps in terms of understanding ultimate reality, but having a greater understanding of ultimate reality would also help in the development of these qualities.
These qualities have to be developed over a period of time. This is why the whole idea of training or cultivation is so important in the Buddhist teachings. We have to learn. We have to educate ourselves. We have to train. Only then will such qualities be actualized. It’s not very helpful to have an “all or nothing” attitude here. We should always think in terms of degree. We are either more mindful or less mindful, more aware or less aware; we exert ourselves to a greater or lesser degree, and so forth. If we think that we should have all these qualities fully developed at the very beginning, we are expecting too much of ourselves. If that were the case, the five paths would be redundant!
In Buddhism, it is knowledge that delivers us from the samsaric state of dissatisfaction, frustration, and mental torment, rather than the development of faith or good works. That does not mean that we should not do good works, of course, but they are not sufficient in themselves to obtain liberation. When both good works and compassion are supported by wisdom, practitioners have been able to fulfill both the necessary and sufficient conditions to attain enlightenment. When practitioners attain the path of seeing, they become completely transformed, which is why the path of seeing is equated with the attainment of the supramundane level of spiritual realization.
Until practitioners have arrived at the level of the path of seeing, they have been more involved with creating knowledge, with doing good works, and also perhaps with a certain amount of meditation. They have not been able to develop any insight into the true nature of things until they reach the level of the path of seeing, where they have direct experience of how things really are, rather than how they appear to the deluded consciousness through the senses.
THE PATH OF MEDITATION
The path of seeing is followed by the path of meditation. This coincides with the second stage of the Bodhisattva and stretches to the tenth Bodhisattva level. Although one engages in the practice of meditation right from the beginning, starting from the path of preparation, on the path of meditation one starts to gain certain experiences and realizations that were not present previously.
The Dhyanas and Formless Attainments of Shamatha
Through the practice of shamatha, we are able to gain access to areas of consciousness that were previously inaccessible, such as the four levels of dhyanas, or meditative concentrations, and the four levels of absorption. The four dhyanas are progressive stages of concentration. At first, thoughts, concepts, and other elements are present as well as emotional experiences of joy and happiness. As we proceed, the mind becomes very settled and concentrated, to such a point that even these mental processes cease to operate. The four stages of concentration correspond to our normal state of consciousness. The four absorptions correspond to the higher reaches of our development in terms of meditation; nevertheless, by themselves they are not necessarily very spiritual. They are simply altered states of consciousness of which we were unaware before.
Through meditation we can experience sensations of happiness and bliss, but on the fourth dhyana level even these cease. They are followed by the first absorption, which is called infinite space, or namkha thaye in Tibetan. Namkha thaye means that we are in such a deep state of concentration that our senses are no longer operating. We do not see, hear or taste anything, and that is why this state is known as infinite space. This does not mean that things have ceased to exist. It simply means that we have been able to place our mind in such a deep state of concentration that all the gross levels of mental functioning and sensory impressions have been temporarily suspended.
The experience of infinite space is followed by the experience of infinite consciousness, which is namshe thaye in Tibetan. Infinite consciousness here means that as we go deeper into the state of consciousness, we see that everything is actually consciousness; there is no sense of duality between subject and object.
The third level of absorption is called chiyang mepa in Tibetan, which means “nonexistence.” The state of absorption has become deeper so that we really have absolutely no experience, no feelings, no emotions, no thoughts or concepts arising in the mind; so there is nothing.
The last state of absorption is known as “nonperception,” which is even deeper than the one before when we were already feeling that there was nothing; it is as though that is not good enough! We have to have another state, when we don’t even have the perception of nonperception. “Nonperception” is yömin memin (“neither existence nor nonexistence”) in Tibetan, which means that, unlike the previous state, we are not even thinking that there is nothing. Even that thought has been dropped.
The Four Divine Abodes and Vipashyana
As I said before, the practice of shamatha may be able to give rise to different levels of consciousness, in which our concentration becomes more focused, but by itself it is unable to create any real spiritual qualities within the mind-stream of the individual. These have to come from the contemplation of the four divine abodes of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity, as well as from vipashyana practice on emptiness, nonsubstantiality, and so forth. Shamatha produces stability of the mind. Based on that stability, we can work with our emotions through the four divine abodes and work with our thoughts and concepts through the practice of vipashyana. Then we are able to transform our meditation so that what we achieve through the practice of meditation becomes supramundane.
In Buddhism it is considered okay to go into altered states of consciousness, but even if we are unable to attain these states we can still attain enlightenment. Certain people have the capacity to go into altered states, but such states are not necessary on the path. What is necessary is that through the practice of shamatha we learn to stabilize our mind. Without mental stability the mind is constantly busy and distracted, either through the senses or in terms of mental activities, emotions, and thoughts. A certain level of mental stability helps to bring about insight, which is essential. Insight meditation causes spiritual transformation in the practitioner, and shamatha meditation, in which mental stability is developed, provides the general conditions that allow insight to arise. That is why both types of meditation are necessary.
When discussing the four divine abodes, we should be clear about our understanding of the words used. Feeling is tsorwa in Tibetan and vedana in Sanskrit, and has to be distinguished from emotions. Whereas emotions can be skillful or unskillful, feelings cannot. Feelings are closely associated with the body, while emotions are partly physical and partly mental. In the West this idea is very new. In philosophy and in theology, emotions have been closely associated with the body and are therefore thought to be something that we have to learn to control, rather than being related to the mind.
Buddhism says that it is possible to work with emotions in a positive way, because there is nothing intrinsically wrong with them. The problem lies in how we deal with them, how we experience and express them. So we can train ourselves and develop skills in order to use emotions to enliven us and make our lives richer, instead of causing more problems for ourselves and other people. We can learn to create a more positive environment, and this is what contemplation on the four divine abodes involves.
The Bodhisattva experience of the path of meditation relates to the rest of the ten levels, or bhumis, of the Bodhisattva path. Through this path, the Bodhisattva is able to perfect each of the six paramitas—generosity, moral precepts, patience, vigor, concentration and wisdom—as he or she traverses the different levels of bodhisattva attainment. The early perfections are realized first, because it is easier to practice generosity that it is to practice patience, for example. Through training, the Bodhisattva gradually realizes the real extent and potential of the virtues associated with the six perfections. He or she then attains Buddhahood, since the realization of the six paramitas is equated with Buddhahood. Once the tenth Bodhisattva level is attained, the practitioner has become a fully enlightened being or Buddha. He or she has then attained the Bodhisattva ideal of the path of no more learning.
Having traversed the paths and stages described previously, the practitioner attains the last of the five paths, the path of no more learning, which equates with the full enlightenment of Buddhahood. The practitioner has realized the aspects of Buddha’s being, referred to as the three kayas, which are two aspects of Buddha’s being associated with his form body and one aspect associated with his authentic original being. Through the accumulation of merit one realizes the form aspects of Buddha’s being and accumulation of wisdom, while on the path one realizes the formless aspect, which is the original state of Buddha’s being.
The five paths are part of the teachings called lamrim, the path and stages, or sa lam, meaning the path and bhumis, or spiritual levels. What is presented here is the idea of spiritual progress. We begin our journey as ordinary, confused sentient beings, our minds completely governed by ignorance and defilements. Gradually purification of the mind takes place, as wisdom and insight increase and our defilements and delusions begin to subside and dissipate. Eventually there is no longer any confusion in the mind; wisdom has flowered and matured in the form of Buddha’s mind.
The teachings of the path and stages are presented in a very progressive and developmental form. This approach in called rimgyipa in Tibetan, which means a step-by-step approach. But this is not the only approach to the path. There is another one, chikcharwa in Tibetan, in which the possibility of sudden illumination is emphasized. The Kagyü tradition, the tradition to which we belong, makes use of both approaches. For example, Gampopa employs the method of the gradualists in his work The Jewel Ornament of Liberation, which is a very important text for our Kagyü tradition. At the same time there is another strand of the tradition, coming from the Mahamudra teachings, which emphasizes the sudden illumination approach. So it is necessary for us to be able to reconcile the differences between these two approaches.
We need to understand that the path and stages as presented in the Sutra teachings should not be taken too literally. For example, it is said in the sutras that a Bodhisattva must remain in the samsaric world for three countless eons before Buddhahood is attained. Even Buddha-nature—the potential for enlightenment that exists in the mind-stream of the individual—is sometimes regarded as a potentiality rather than an actuality in the Sutra tradition. According to this perspective, to actualize it means that we must engage in the path of the Bodhisattva and traverse all the different stages of this path in order to accomplish Buddhahood. Thus the concept of Buddha-nature is seen as a potentiality that has to be brought to the surface through a long period of practice. It can’t be attained instantaneously, according to the Sutra teachings. However, as we shall see when we turn to a discussion of the Tantra and Mahamudra traditions, this is not the view of all the Buddhist schools.
TWO TYPES OF BUDDHA’S BEING
The idea of the three kayas is associated with the ultimate aspiration of practitioners. It symbolizes the final goal that they would like to achieve. Generally, we talk about the two levels of truth, the ground as the starting point, the two accumulations of wisdom and means as the path, and the two types of Buddha’s being (kaya) as the fruition. As a starting point, we begin to look at our perception of the world and our perception of ourselves. We realize that so many of our experiences are conceptual constructions. There is no reality to them because they are insubstantial. With that realization, we have some insight into absolute truth. In this sense, one uses the idea of two levels of truth as the starting point. When we embark upon the path, the idea of working for the benefit of others becomes important. This is achieved through engaging in Bodhisattva deeds such as generating compassion. This sows the seeds for attaining the “form body” of the Buddha (rupakaya). Concurrently, as one also increases one’s insight and wisdom, this eventually manifests as the full unfoldment of the “formless aspect” of Buddha’s being (arupakaya). The formless aspect is called dharmakaya. The three kayas are an expansion of two kayas, because both the sambhogakaya and nirmanakaya are subsumed under the “form body,” while the dharmakaya is the “formless” aspect. Therefore, we essentially have two aspects of Buddha’s being, or two aspects of enlightenment. It is the realization of these aspects that are the basic goal or the basic aim of the practitioner.
ONE EXISTENTIAL STATE
Now, the idea of three bodies should not mislead us into thinking that there is some kind of entity, or three different kinds of entities, that are being spoken of here. Dharmakaya (the formless body) and sambhogakaya (one of the form bodies) do not refer to any kind of entity as such, but more to a certain existential state of being. As far as the idea of dharmakaya or formless body is concerned, this is something that is always present. Dharmakaya is only rediscovered. It is not something that is created or made to manifest anew. And the same can be said of the sambhogakaya aspect, which has more to do with the mind’s ability to manifest in a way that is able to express all potentialities in relation to the five wisdoms. As such, the sambhogakaya aspect is related to the mental powers.
The nirmanakaya aspect is the only one that has been created anew. The nirmanakaya is the result of having purified one’s body, speech, and mind. In this way, one’s physical body ceases to be a locus of all kinds of undesirable negative tendencies, such as excessive desire. Instead, it becomes a medium that can have extraordinary power for working with others and benefiting others. Therefore, nirmanakaya is the physical aspect of an enlightened being. It is said to be new because it is something different.
As far as the sambhogakaya and dharmakaya aspects are concerned, they are already embodied within each sentient being. It is a matter of whether one is able to come to a realization of them or not.
TWOFOLD PURITY OF THE DHARMAKAYA
Dharmakaya is the embodiment of what is called twofold purity. One aspect of the dharmakaya is completely empty, completely open. It has never been corrupted by experiences of emotional conflict and conceptual confusion. So there is a primordial sense of purity. As we begin to become cleansed of the defilements on the path, through working with our emotional conflicts and conceptual confusions, we develop the temporary aspect of the purity of the dharmakaya.
When we start to realize the twofold purity, we can also manifest in sambhogakaya form. However, sambhogakaya is not something that can be perceived by ordinary beings. We would need to have a purified mind to perceive the sambhogakaya aspect and to communicate that. Although a person may be manifesting all kinds of mental powers, if the audience is limited in its capacity and subject to all kinds of illusions, it will not be able to appreciate the sambhogakaya manifestation. That is why the Buddhas always work through the nirmanakaya aspect, because the nirmanakaya enables a Buddha to operate physically for the benefit of others. A Buddha is able to communicate verbally and mentally through his or her physical expressions, which is the nirmanakaya aspect.
We should not think that these three kayas are completely independent of one another. They are interrelated, and when they have become fully unfolded, they are inseparable. The form aspects of the sambhogakaya and nirmanakaya manifest out of dharmakaya. Both form bodies are therefore dependent on the formless body, because that is the origin upon which these other two form bodies are grounded. The dharmakaya refers to an undifferentiated state of being. We cannot talk about either the state of confusion or the state of enlightenment in reference to it, because the dharmakaya is in a sense atemporal and ahistorical. Nor can we attribute change or transformation to it, because dharmakaya is a state of being that is totally indeterminate.
Because of its indeterminateness, the dharmakaya can give rise to certain deterministic characteristics or aspects. Thus, we have the sambhogakaya and nirmanakaya arising out of the dharmakaya. Because the dharmakaya is passive in nature, it cannot manifest as a good medium for working with others and for their benefit. This is accomplished through the realization of the sambhogakaya and nirmanakaya. The reason why these are called “form bodies” is not that they are actual physical bodies, but that they manifest and are determinate, in contrast to dharmakaya, which is immaterial and indeterminate.
The sambhogakaya is determinate because it manifests in a variety of ways. This does not mean that the sambhogakaya is not physical, however. The sambhogakaya does give rise to nirmanakaya, and this last kaya is physical in its essence. The nirmanakaya is therefore the manifestation of being, the embodiment of the other two kayas. The sambhogakaya realization can manifest through nirmanakaya, because the nirmanakaya is historically situated. We can talk about Buddha Shakyamuni attaining enlightenment in Bodhgaya, proceeding to give teachings in Varanasi, and eventually attaining parinirvana (complete enlightenment at death) in Kushinagar, because we are describing the Buddha Shakyamuni in his nirmanakaya aspect. However, we cannot attribute any kind of temporality to the sambhogakaya and dharmakaya aspects because they are not historically situated. They are always manifesting and ever-present.
The primordial sense of the sambhogakaya aspect is symbolized by the Vajradhara, the Primordial Buddha who is a representation of ultimate reality. He is the holder of the scepter, or vajra, which signifies the perennial truthfulness of reality. It is not subjected to change and transformation, and does not need to be updated. The vajra cannot be made into something that is relative or conditional because it is perennially true. Therefore, “holder” delineates the importance of possessing this, of being able to hold the perennial truthfulness of reality.
Sambhogakaya is called longchö dzokpe ku in Tibetan. Longchö means “to make use of” or “to indulge,” dzokpe means “perfect bliss,” and ku means “body.” Therefore, the sambhogakaya realm is the state of blissfulness. It is always immersed in a state of unceasing bliss. It is said that the sambhogakaya does not manifest in any kind of spatial or physical location. It manifests in a place called Akanistha (Ogmin), which is not really a place, because it is not located anywhere. Ogmin means “not underneath.” It is a place that is nowhere, that is all-encompassing. As such, Ogmin or Akanistha refers to emptiness (shunyata). The teacher Vajradhara manifests in Akanishtha. However, the sambhogakaya does not embody the ordinary teachings of the three yanas, but the most essential teachings of the supreme Tantrayana. These teachings are perennially meaningful, because the significance of the teachings is not relative to historical situations.
This sambhogakaya aspect is only perceptible to advanced people who are endowed with extraordinarily lucid and perceptive minds. Thus, the audiences of this Akanistha realm are only those beings of advanced realization. From the point of view of the nirmanakaya aspect however, there is a historical personage who presented the teachings of the three yanas in a particular physical location. In this context then, the audience would also be constituted of beings with various capacities, dispositions and inclinations.
However, it is said that we can only make this distinction between sambhogakaya and nirmanakaya from an outside perspective. In terms of the experience of the Buddha himself, we cannot talk about one preceding the other, or of the sambhogakaya being superior to the nirmanakaya. Nor can we say that the sambhogakaya manifested first and the Buddha only realizes the nirmanakaya aspect afterward. However, if we look at it conceptually, we can make a distinction between the two, although this distinction is impossible to make at the experiential level of reality.
The sambhogakaya aspect is also endowed with the so-called five auspicious coincidences (phünsum tspa). The first auspicious coincidence is that of place, meaning that the sambhogakaya manifests in the place of Akanishtha. The second auspicious coincidence is the emergence of the Buddha, or physical teacher. In this particular case, it is the nirmanakaya aspect being spoken of, or the physical teacher who is endowed with all kinds of qualities. The third auspicious coincidence is the manifestation of the teachings. In this case the teachings refer to the pure essence of tantric manifestations, which are not even presented in written scriptural form. If the meaning of these essential instructions are practiced and realized, the state of enlightenment can be attained in one lifetime. The fourth auspicious coincidence is the convergence of the proper audience. This audience consists of such beings as Bodhisattvas, dakas and dakinis (spiritually advanced male and female beings), and others that are advanced on the path. The fifth auspicious coincidence is time. This is a complicated condition because in terms of the sambhogakaya teachings, unlike the nirmanakaya, the past, present, and future are not a relevant conceptual framework. We cannot talk about them in terms of history. We can say that the teachings of the Buddha’s nirmanakaya aspect were given at a certain historical point, and we can even speculate that these teachings might cease to exist at some point. However, we cannot say that in reference to the teachings that the sambhogakaya embodies, because these are not related to any historical phenomenon. The sambhogakaya teachings are ever present and therefore unceasing.
The sambhogakaya has certain qualities in relation to the auspicious coincidence of the teacher. One of these is called the “qualities of the limbs.” Unlike the nirmanakaya aspect, one cannot talk about the sambhogakaya ceasing to exist. The following seven limbs are therefore what distinguish the qualities of the sambhogakaya from that of the nirmanakaya, which is the other form body of the Buddha.
The limb of immersion: The sambhogakaya aspect is fully immersed in the Mahayana teachings.
The limb of coexistence: The sambhogakaya aspect has never been corrupted, and therefore manifests in conjunction with wisdom.
The limb of fullness: The sambhogakaya aspect is completely immersed in the truth.
The limb of nonsubstantiality: The sambhogakaya is not substantial and is lacking in inherent existence.
The limb of infinite compassion: The sambhogakaya aspect is fully imbued with compassionate concerns, which manifest from the dharmakaya aspect. Through being imbued in compassion, it directs its attention toward other sentient beings.
The limb of noncessation: The sambhogakaya’s resonating concern for other sentient beings is ever-present and unceasing.
The limb of perennial manifestation: The sambhogakaya cannot cease to be and manifests throughout the ages.
Traditionally it is said that the relationship between dharmakaya, sambhogakaya, and nirmanakaya is like the sky, the clouds and the rain. The sky corresponding to the dharmakaya aspect, the clouds to the sambhogakaya aspect, and the rain to the nirmanakaya manifestation. In the same way that space or the sky is not a conditioned product, the dharmakaya is also an unconditioned thing. It has not come about because of causes and conditions, and is therefore an indeterminate state. However, just as space gives rise to cloud formations, the dharmakaya gives rise to the various manifestations of the sambhogakaya.
An example of the way that Buddhists have understood the dharmakaya can be found in the text Dü ma che (Asamskara), which says that the dharmakaya is a state that precedes both confusion and wisdom. It exists before any dualistic notions have arisen. This means that even before one experiences anything, there is this state of dharmakaya, this unconditional state which has arisen spontaneously, not as the product of causes and conditions. This state is neutral because it is neither positive nor negative; the idea of duality does not apply here. Yet at the same time there is the presence of self-awareness. This state of dharmakaya has never been corrupted by emotional conflicts or conceptual confusions. Therefore, one cannot talk in terms of either nirvana or samsara in relation to it. Before we had any idea of Buddhas or sentient beings, there was a state that was absolutely pure, uncorrupted, and self-aware. This dharmakaya is the basis or matrix of all experiences that manifest. It does not matter whether one is a being in the hell realms or a Buddha; the presence of this particular substratum or matrix is the same. Dharmakaya is the nondifferentiated state, the basic source for the manifestation of our conscious experiences.
Dharmakaya as a state is not an entity; it is not a thing. It is unconditional, and it is permanent. This is why it is said that dharmakaya is not a product of causes and conditions. Nevertheless, when the dharmakaya is described as permanent, this does not mean that there is an entity that endures forever. The dharmakaya is not an entity; it is nothing and cannot be said to be permanent in this way. It is permanent in the same sense as the sky can be said to be permanent. The sky is permanent because it is unconditional; it has never arisen and therefore cannot cease to exist.
This nonconditional state gives rise to all the conditional experiences of samsara and nirvana, confusion and wisdom, as well as conceptual perplexities, emotional conflicts, and so on. These various manifestations of the mind are related to the sambhogakaya aspect, which also manifests from this nondifferentiated state. Therefore, working with one’s mind via the visualization of deities, the utterance of mantras, and so on, is also a way of trying to invoke the sambhogakaya energy. If one is successful with these practices one can have different kinds of visions, even visitations of many kinds. The sambhogakaya can manifest in certain significant or symbolic situations in one’s life. The story of Naropa is an excellent example of this experience. Naropa was a professor at Nalanda University in India. The story goes that at one time Naropa was taking a walk when he encountered the ugliest woman he had ever set eyes on. She asked him if he knew the Buddhist teachings. He answered in the affirmative, saying that he was a professor at Nalanda University. She started to sing and dance in response to this answer, which puzzled Naropa. Then she asked him whether he knew the meaning of the Buddhist teachings. However, this time when he said yes, the old woman began to cry and wail. Then it clicked with him that all his understanding was purely intellectual or conceptual and that he had completely neglected his intuitive side. The ugly old woman represented the emotional or intuitive aspects of his mind. This vision was a symbolic calling from the dimension of the sambhogakaya, a revelatory experience of some kind.
One can have a variety of experiences of this nature in terms of the sambhogakaya aspect. It is said that the sambhogakaya communicates in symbolic language and manifests not through words, descriptions, and explanations, but through intuitive responses to experiences. Visions and dreams are an example of that whole symbolic language. In this context there is another list related to the sambhogakaya aspect, in addition to the seven limbs mentioned above. These are the eight types of power and enrichment (wangchuk gye).
1. The power and enrichment of the body (ku yi wangchuk) means that the power of the body becomes so great that all things of a samsaric and nirvanic nature become completely subdued. One takes full charge of them and is enriched by all the qualities and positive things that come of this.
2. The power and enrichment of speech (sung gi wangchuk) means that the capacity of communication is able to assimilate all the essential verbal elements of both samsara and nirvana. One becomes enriched and empowered by being able to make full use of them.
3. The power and enrichment of the mind (thuk kyi wangchuk) means that one is able to integrate the mental powers in relation to both samsara and nirvana. One becomes empowered and enriched with all the different possibilities of mental manifestation.
4. The power and enrichment of miracle (dzutrül kyi wangchuk) means that the capacity to use the three gates of body, speech, and mind is such that one is no longer confined by conventional modes of expression. One is able to go beyond them and display power in unusual ways.
5. The empowerment and enrichment that is ever-going (küntu dro wangchuk) means that one is constantly being impelled toward action, toward intention in terms of accomplishing things for the benefit of others. Again, one becomes fully endowed with varieties of powers related to samsaric and nirvanic qualities.
6. The empowerment and enrichment of place (ne kyi wangchuk) means that the sambhogakaya is situated in Akanistha, the basic sphere of reality. So one becomes enriched and empowered in that sense because sambhogakaya is inseparably united with reality.
7. The empowerment and enrichment of sensuality (dö-pe wangchuk) is connected with the idea that sambhogakaya is inseparably in unison with its feminine counterpart. Whether one calls that the Mother of All Buddhas, the selflessness one, Vajravarahi, or Vajrayogini, it is always continuously in unison with the sambhogakaya. The Sambhogakaya experience is continuously producing the great bliss of being in unison, which is the Mahamudra expression as well. One is empowered and enriched by the capacity to manifest wisdom, or prajna (sherap).
8. The empowerment and enrichment of the fulfillment of one’s wishes (kye dö-pe wangchuk) means that the sambhogakaya is intrinsically endowed with all the worldly and supermundane boons. Worldly boons (lokasiddha) refer to capacities such as extrasensory perception, clairvoyance, clairaudience, and telepathy. These abilities are the result different spiritual realizations.
If one is able to tune in to the sambhogakaya, one is able to manifest in nirmanakaya form. It is said that there are three different kinds of nirmanakaya. These are the nirmanakaya of artifacts (zo yi tulku), the nirmanakaya of birth (kyewe tulku), and the nirmanakaya of the absolute (chok ki tulku). The nirmanakaya of artifacts refers to statues and other sacred objects venerated as religious symbols. The nirmanakaya of birth refers to the highly evolved beings that continue to reincarnate for the benefit of others. This is why the tulkus (incarnations) are called tulkus, because they manifest in certain nirmanakaya forms to benefit others. The nirmanakaya of the absolute refers to people who have fully realized Buddhahood. So nirmanakaya can manifest in these different ways.
FOUR MODES OF COMPASSION
Both the nirmanakaya and sambhogakaya are directed toward helping others. Once one has been able to give birth to enlightenment, one becomes automatically moved and impelled to work for the benefit of others. People often ask how we can work for the benefit of others when we have completely overcome dualistic notions of all kinds. For then there is no distinction between the object of compassion and the agent who practices compassion. Some people have seen a problem here because such actions suggest that the Buddha must still be subject to dualistic notions, thinking that there are sentient beings that exist as objects for his compassion. Traditionally however, it is said that there is no real problem here because a Buddha’s awareness of sentient beings as an object of compassion is not the result of dualistic thought. The Buddha does not generate compassion based upon deliberation and planning. In what manner, then, is a Buddha’s compassion generated? It is said there are four modes in which the nirmanakaya and sambhogakaya manifest compassion.
The first is called the ever-present manifestation of compassion. This means that compassion is part of the property of realization of sambhogakaya. Compassion has always been there; it can never be exhausted or said only to manifest at a particular point. In that sense, the compassion of the sambhogakaya is inexhaustible. Even if the Buddha passes into parinirvana, the manifestation of compassion does not cease. Because even if the nirmanakaya stops manifesting for a while, the awakened energy continues to manifest at the sambhogakaya level. For instance, it is said in the sutras that from the sambhogakaya point of view, the Buddhas do not pass into parinirvana. Dharmas do not cease to be propounded, because on the level of sambhogakaya the teachings remain embodied in the sambhogakaya experience. The nirmanakaya form only manifests and dissolves in order to benefit sentient beings that are subject to laziness. There is no such coming into being or going out of existence on the sambhogakaya level however. So the manifestation of compassion is ever-present.
The second mode is called compassion that manifests spontaneously without any provocation. This manifestation of compassion is described as resonating concern. It is said that compassion arises in response to certain situations without any judgment, without any conceptual interpretation, and without being based upon concerns of that nature. The image is given of the sun illuminating the darkness, or the moon being reflected in water. Compassion is ever-present in this way. It manifests spontaneously and automatically without compulsion or without being elicited.
The third mode is called compassion in terms of meeting the appropriate object. Only beings able to respond to the sambhogakaya manifestation receive this compassion. Therefore, the object of compassion and the kind of compassion they receive correspond with one another. The compassion of the sambhogakaya and the compassion of the nirmanakaya manifest in a way that is appropriate for the types of people who are there. In this way the different beings, with their different dispositions and predilections, are able to receive that compassion depending on their level of understanding and evolvement.
The fourth mode is compassion that has been requested. This type of compassion has two aspects, the compassionate response that has been elicited in a general way and the compassion that has been elicited in a more specific way. Eliciting a compassionate response in a general way means that the enlightened being who is manifesting as the sambhogakaya aspect in emptiness is stirred from this state because of compassion. In other words, compassion keeps the Buddha active in the world. The compassionate response that has been elicited in a more specific way is compassion that arises in response to actual situations in this particular world. For instance, when the Buddha attained enlightenment, he did not automatically start to teach. He had to be requested to teach and to work for the benefit of others. In that way his compassion manifested. It is said that any requests for compassion from the lama or the yidam is compassion manifesting in a specific way.
TWO ASPECTS OF BUDDHA’S TEACHING
We see, therefore, that compassion can manifest in relation to both the sambhogakaya and the nirmanakaya in those four modes. The by-product of the sambhogakaya manifestation of compassion is the compassion that manifests in the public arena through the medium of the nirmanakaya. This is related to the teachings that an enlightened being gives, because the ultimate form of compassion is said to be the teachings. Teachings from a Buddhist point of view have two aspects. One is called ka, which are the teachings that the Buddha gave from his own mouth. The other one is called tenjur, which are the commentarial exegeses based upon the Buddha’s own teachings.
The ka has three aspects. The first aspect is the teachings that the Buddha literally gave (shal ne sungpe ka) and the second is the teachings inspired by the Buddha in his presence (chin gyi lape ka). The latter category means that even though the Buddha was present at the time, he did not literally give the teachings himself, but encouraged or inspired someone who was also present—such as Avalokiteshvara—to act as a mouthpiece for himself. Therefore, although Buddha did not literally give the teachings, they have the same authority as the Buddha’s own teachings, just as if they had been given by his own mouth. Finally, we have the teachings that were be-queathed to another generation of practitioners (jesu nangwe ka). These teachings were not really presented during the Buddha’s own lifetime but were invoked, rediscovered, or given a new impetus by another generation. However, it is as if the basic impetus came from the Buddha himself.
The tenjur, or commentarial exegeses, have two aspects. One is the doctrinal aspect and the other is the experiential aspect. These two aspects must correspond. If one has studied the teachings and learned them intellectually, those teachings must then be made to correspond with one’s inner experiences. There is no single doctrine that we could call the definitive teaching of Buddhism. It is said that through his infinite wisdom, compassion, and exercise of skillful means, the Buddha was able to devise many kinds of methods and many interpretations. However, there are many levels of interpretation, and many levels of understanding. As Nagarjuna says, “The dharma of the Buddha is immense, like the ocean. Depending on the aptitudes of beings, it is expounded in various ways. Sometimes it speaks of existence, and sometimes it speaks of non-existence. Sometimes it speaks of eternity, other times of impermanence. Sometimes happiness, other times suffering. Sometimes the self, other times the not-self,” and so on. Then he goes on to say, “Such are the manifold and diverse teachings of the Buddha.”
THREE TURNINGS OF THE WHEEL OF DHARMA
In the early Hinayana teachings—referred to as the first turning of the Wheel of Dharma—the Buddha negated the existence of a permanent substantial self, but did not go into an elaborate discussion of this in relation to emptiness. In the second turning of the Wheel of Dharma, the teachings of the emptiness of phenomena are introduced. Here there is both the idea of the nonsubstantiality or emptiness of the self, as well as emptiness of external phenomena. Then in the third turning of the Wheel of Dharma, the idea of tathagatagarbha, or Buddha-nature, is introduced. In these teachings the negation of an inherently existing self or ego or soul, is integrated with an incorruptible spiritual principle called the tathagatagarbha, the Buddha-nature that remains untainted by the passions and conceptual confusions of the mind.
So different levels of teachings are given. Sometimes these teachings may seem to contradict one another and even counter each other’s propositions. However, it is said that the teachings are presented that way in order to reach the widest audience. People require teachings appropriate to their different levels of understanding, aptitudes, and dispositions. Buddha gave teachings in such a way that the meaning could be understood on many different levels. The Mahayana way of solving the problem of which teachings contain the essential meaning of Buddhism, and which are really peripheral and superficial, was to introduce the distinction between interpretive teachings and definitive teachings.
The interpretive teachings are called trangdön (niyartha). Trang means “liberate”; dön means “meaning.” These teachings contain meanings that have been given with the intention of liberating others. These should not necessarily be taken literally, but they do have their own functions. For example, all kinds of far-fetched, extraordinary, and incredible stories are told in the sutras and shastras about the miraculous activities of bodhisattvas. There are teachings in which the Buddha may have even said that there is a self, or something of that nature. These are said to be interpretive teachings because they are told in order to inspire people. Their meaning therefore needs to be understood in this context.
The definitive teachings are called ngedön (nitartha). These teachings are generally concerned with emptiness. All the teachings that discourse on emptiness should be taken literally. From the Mahayana point of view, all the teachings that are concerned with emptiness should be taken as definitive, and all the others should be taken as interpretive.
However, there is still a problem here because not all the different schools of Buddhism agree upon which teachings are interpretive and which teachings are definitive. There is some kind of disagreement in Tibetan Buddhism, for example. The Kagyü and Nyingma traditions of Tibetan Buddhism understand the teachings on tathagatagarbha—which were presented in the third turning of the Wheel of Dharma—as the ultimate meaning. However, the Gelugpas would say that these teachings on Buddha-nature are not definite in meaning. For them, the tathagatagarbha teachings were only given so that people would not freak out at the thought that they do not have a substantial ego. Therefore, the tathagatagarbha only has an interpretive meaning in their system.
Anyway, all of these different varieties of teachings—as complex as they may be—are given only in order to alleviate people’s suffering and neurosis. It is said that there are 84,000 different types of teachings, which correspond to 84,000 different kinds of neuroses. However, all the teachings are supposed to alleviate people’s sufferings. They are all oriented toward realization of the three kayas, or three modes of Buddha’s being.
SUTRA AND TANTRA
The Tantric Levels of Attainment
IT IS IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTAND the Sutra tradition of Mahayana, because it is impossible to understand Tantra without first having grasped the sutric concepts. While there is no difference in terms of the objective of followers of Sutra and Tantra, the tantric teachings are said to be superior to the sutric teachings in certain important respects.
The Sutra approach to Mahayana is gradual and gentle, using certain methods over a period of time to approach the goal. Tantra, however, is confrontational, more disturbing, and with quicker results precisely because of that. For these reasons, the sutric Mahayana is called the “causal yana,” or the vehicle of the cause, and the tantric form of Mahayana is called the “resultant yana.”
The followers of both Sutra and Tantra aim to achieve the state called “nonabiding nirvana.” This term indicates the importance of not dwelling either in the samsaric condition or in the peaceful bliss of nirvana. This perspective is distinct from the early Buddhist view of nirvana, which is seen by Mahayana practitioners as quietist and too removed from the world; the other extreme is to be immersed in the preoccupations of the samsaric condition, which is to dwell in delusion. The sutric and tantric followers of the Mahayana tradition want to avoid these two extremes. Their understanding of nonabiding nirvana is that it means to be in the world but not of it.
Although the goal of Sutra and Tantra is the same, there is a great deal of difference in the methods used to achieve that goal. The tantric teachings offer methods not available in the sutric teachings, which are organized into levels of development. The tantric system uses techniques not found in the sutric teachings, such as visualization, recitation of mantras, and working with the physical energies of the body. Sutrayana is studied through books and teachings where one comes across concepts like Buddha-nature and emptiness. A better understanding of these would help us to understand Tantra also. The notions of karmic propensities, the five poisons, and the four levels of consciousness are all found in sutric literature.
Even the visualization of deities has to be understood from the sutric point of view. For example, a deity may have six legs in order to represent the six paramitas. All of these elements are symbols for certain spiritual qualities, which can be realized through certain deities. So we have to understand what the six paramitas are, and we find those paramitas described in detail in the Sutras.
Another example is the fifty-one skulls that some deities wear around their necks. These skulls are supposed to represent the fifty-one types of subconscious mental gossip, or what is normally translated as “mental events.” You will actually find sutric teachings that list all fifty-one mental events, but of course you do not have to find out which skull represents which mental event! The deities have to be understood symbolically, and these symbols can be better grasped though having an understanding of the sutric conceptual categories to which they refer. If we do not understand these things symbolically, we could come very close to practicing demonology.
Tantric methods make it possible to deal with delusions and conflicting emotions directly. In fact, the delusions that are to be abandoned, and the different types of spiritual qualities that need to be cultivated, are seen as two sides of the same coin rather than two totally opposite kinds of experience. For this reason, the tantric system is also called the esoteric tradition, not because there is anything that needs to be kept secret particularly, but because to practice Tantrism requires certain attributes in the practitioner. In a sense, one needs to have some ability to practice Tantra; otherwise one would not derive any benefit from it despite one’s practice. The tantric teachings are kept secret to a certain extent, not because their contents should not be revealed, but because many people are not able to comprehend them.
If one has the required abilities, it is possible to achieve the goal of enlightenment in a short time through the use of tantric methods. This is not the case with the sutric method. To put it another way, the difference between the sutric and tantric methods lies in their use of relative truth. The recitations of mantras, visualization of deities, and other practices are all ways of exploiting the nature of relative truth, because they enable the practitioner to come into contact with relative truth directly. However, the absolute truth that is realized by the methods of Tantra is the same truth that is discussed in the sutric teachings.
The tantric system has many different names, such as Tantrayana, Vajrayana, and Mantrayana. Tantra is called gyü in Tibetan, meaning “continuity,” because the tantric teachings emphasize the idea of continuity between the inner nature of a person in the condition of samsara and the inner nature of that same person when in the state of nirvana. When people become enlightened they do not discover themselves to be a totally different entity, because Buddha-nature has been there right from the beginning. Tantrism stresses the importance of Buddha-nature. The word vajrayana, or the “vehicle of the vajra,” actually has the same connotation. Vajra means “indestructibility,” and so the vajra is the symbol of indestructibility, which again refers to the quality of the Buddha-nature. For example, the practice of vajrasattva (a form of tantric purification using visualization of the deity Vajrasattva and recitation of mantra) is the practice of Buddha-nature. Sattva means “mind,” so vajrasattva refers to the “indestructible mind,” which is Buddha-nature, or the nature of mind. Vajrayana also emphasizes the importance of this concept of Buddha-nature.
While most sutric teachings portray samsara as being the opposite of nirvana, the tantric emphasis on Buddha-nature brings the concepts of samsara and nirvana together. While the sutras teach that everything samsaric is to be abandoned and everything displaying the qualities of nirvana is to be cultivated, in the tantric understanding Buddha-nature underlies all of one’s samsaric and nirvanic experiences. This is why the concepts of indestructibility and continuity are emphasized in Tantra in relation to the understanding of Buddha-nature.
SEX IN TANTRA
Tantrism deals with our experiences directly. The peaceful deities, visualized as being seductive and alluring, can help us deal with desire, while visualizing wrathful deities can help us to transform aggression. Defilements and delusions need not be abandoned in Tantra, for they can be made use of on the path. In a tantric context, sometimes even sex has been used. But there is a great deal of confusion regarding this. Those who want to sanitize Tantrism say that it does not make use of sex at all, while others make it seem as if Tantra is nothing but sex! As usual, the truth lies somewhere in between. Even recent scholars such as Lobsang Lhalungpa, the translator of Moonbeams of Mahamudra and other texts, says there is no room for sex in Tantra. On the other hand, Jeffrey Hopkins, a follower of the Geluk tradition, which normally does not discuss this aspect of Tantra, mentions that the use of sex has not been discarded altogether even within his tradition.
If we are to understand the role of sex within Tantrism, we need to consider the context of the three mudras: Karmamudra, Jnanamudra, and Mahamudra. Karmamudra is the yogic practice of sex in order to generate bliss. The idea is that sexual methods make it possible to overcome the sense of duality and therefore experience bliss, with sexual desire transformed into what is called mahasukha, or “great bliss.” However, the same effect can be obtained through the practice of Jnanamudra, which means “deities in union.” You may have seen such deities in Tibetan paintings. They are visualized in the act of sexual union in order to obtain the same goal and experience the same bliss that the practice of Karmamudra generates. But the bliss experienced on both of these levels is said to be incomparable to the bliss that one can experience through the practice of Mahamudra. So even if one uses sexual methods, there is nothing wonderful about them—they are just methods.
LEVELS OF TANTRA
Vajrayana practices, or tantric teachings, have been systematized into four categories, and practitioners are encouraged to follow the tantric teachings in a systematic and gradual way. The relationship that exists between the visualized deities and the practitioner will go through different transitions, depending upon the level of Tantra with which the person engages. Even the natures of the visualized deities are different; they may be wrathful or peaceful, for example.
