DJKR Teachings
A Teaching from Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche in Australia.
As many of you will have experienced over the years Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche has a particular style of teaching. Very generous and inclusive.
During the Uttaratantra Shastra teaching at Bangalow, in Australia this year, there was a particular section in these teachings that caught the mind of many of us as being a most delightful and relatable explanation of the six Paramitas. I have only lightly edited this passage so those of you who have not heard Rinpoche directly can appreciate the humour and deep affection as well as the profound wisdom that infuses Rinpoche’s style of Teaching.
THE SIX FONDNESSES
“ For the path dweller to be virtuous and to accumulate virtuous deeds is so important. To think virtuously is very important. However good deeds have so many obstacles. These obstacles can be categorised into the six fondnesses.”
“What are they – it is quite interesting – they are the six different kinds of love.”
Rinpoche invites a definition. “What is love by the way?” (Audience laughter)
Audience responds with some words.
“Tenderness, yes tenderness. That is good. Tenderness I think I like. A soft spot. A Fondness.”
1. “ There is a certain type of rat that is always collecting things – a pack rat. This kind of attitude, a tenderness towards, a fondness for collecting attacks generosity, the first paramita.”
2. “ The next is a tenderness, a fondness towards not staying out of trouble. A very good one, this, I thought. A fondness to trouble.”
Mischievous? (Audience)
“Mischievous is something kind of good. No? Well according to us it is,” ( Rinpoche and audience laughter) “ This fondness of not staying out of trouble becomes the obstacle to discipline.”
3. “The fondness to making the point is the obstacle to patience”
4. “ Fondness to carelessness is the obstacle to diligence “ Sloppiness. Yes. Sloppiness is good. Messiness. A fondness to Australians. No, No, No I am just…”
5. “ A fondness to be dependent, to be co-dependent. We have a fondness for wanting space, for respecting human rights but that’s all talk. Behind our actions we have a fondness to be dictated to, to be controlled by others. Fondness to be dominated by an object “
“ A bit like having a girlfriend or a boyfriend. To have someone who can change their mood faster than lightning. That’s terrible,”
(Lots of laughter)
“Basically we love dependency even though we talk about independence. This is the obstacle to meditation – samadhi. “
6. “Now this is a really good one. Fantastic this one. You know how the French – I hope there are no French people here – love smelly cheese. We love disgusting stuff like pig’s nose. There is tenderness, a fondness for liking bad stuff, or for liking cheap stuff, so that is why we need wisdom.”
“ These things, these six fondnesses are the mastermind, the planner, the mover, the fixer of non virtuous deeds. They lead to non-virtuous action. They sustain, they enhance, the non-virtuous action. The six paramitas are there because these fondnesses need to be analysed and attacked.”
Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche
gentlevoice.org
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Friday, October 01, 2010
The Six Fondnesses
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Projecting the Dharma
Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
Projecting the Dharma: Film and the Transmission of Buddhism to the West
A public talk at Yale Law School, New Haven, Connecticut
25 January, 2008
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Sunday, September 05, 2010
Poem by Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
Mind’s ultimate nature, emptiness endowed with vividness,
I was told is the real Buddha.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with thoughts of hierarchy.
Mind’s ultimate nature, its emptiness aspect,
I was told is the real Dharma.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with thoughts of political correctness.
Mind’s ultimate nature, its vivid aspect,
I was told is the real Sangha.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with thoughts of equal rights.
One cannot disassociate emptiness from vividness.
This inseparability I was told is the Guru.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with depending on chauvinist lamas.
This nature of mind has never been stained by duality,
This stainlessness I was told is the deity.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with the categories of “gender” or “culture.”
This nature of mind is spontaneously present.
That spontaneity I was told is the dakini aspect.
Recognizing this should help me
Not to be stuck with fear of being sued.
~ Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
~End of Post~
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Thursday, August 05, 2010
Interview with Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche from Khyentse Norbu on Vimeo.
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Friday, April 23, 2010
Talk on Amitabha Sutra by The 3rd Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Chokyi Gyatso
Amitabha Sutra - Part 1
http://203.116.91.123/$sitepreview/sakyatenphelling.org/audio/DJKR_Amitabha_1A_2010-Mar-21.mp3
Amitabha Sutra - Part 2
http://203.116.91.123/$sitepreview/sakyatenphelling.org/audio/DJKR_Amitabha_1B_2010-Mar-21.mp3
Amitabha Sutra - Part 3
http://203.116.91.123/$sitepreview/sakyatenphelling.org/audio/DJKR_Amitabha_2_2010-Mar-22.mp3
Source: http://www.sakyatenphelling.org/audio/audio.htm
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Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Projecting the Dharma: Film and the Transmission of Buddhism to the West
Watch Projecting the Dharma: Film and the Transmission of Buddhism to the West, a public talk given by Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche at Yale Law School, New Haven, Connecticut on 25 January, 2008
Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche: Projecting the Dharma from Siddhartha's Intent on Vimeo.
~End of Post~
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Tuesday, March 11, 2008
View, Meditation, Action
by Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche
Article source: Gentle Voice Newsletter issue (#21) March 2004
In the previous issue of the newsletter we featured Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche’s straightforward approach to the Buddhist view from his recent public talk “View, Meditation, Action”. In this excerpt Rinpoche outlines how meditation and action help to enhance this Buddhist view.
We’ll talk about meditation now. I don’t know whether ‘meditation’ is the correct translation of the Tibetan word gom or the Sanskrit word yoga. Yoga is translated as naljor in Tibetan and naljor is such a very big word. Nal means normality. Jor means wealth. So when you are meditating, what you are ideally supposed to do is cultivate the wealth of normality. Now the very words yoga and gom imply that it has to do with getting accustomed to the view we were talking about earlier.
Most meditation techniques are a bit like a placebo or a fake medicine. I’m not making this up - this was taught by the Buddha himself. He said the absolute and final challenge as a meditator is the very path that we are practising. That’s a very, very big statement. He even gave a good example: taking a boat to the other shore. If you are going to the other shore, you have to take a boat. Once you reach the other shore, you have to abandon the boat. If you are still standing in the boat, you are not on the other shore. You will find many Buddhists are very attached to the boat, Buddhism. They don’t even know that Buddha, for instance, was never a Buddhist. This Buddhism falls into the second category that I mentioned earlier - the whole, not the component bit.
But having said that, it’s the only way to go because we are like a patient and the Buddha is like a doctor. The disease we have is this confusion, such as looking at a mirage and believing the mirage is water. And we are so thirsty that we really need some water. Only a few of us get relief and feel no more disappointment when our teacher tells us, ‘Hey, look, that’s a mirage, not water.’ Even though our teacher is telling us it’s just a mirage, most of us don’t want to believe it. We want to believe it’s water. Therefore, out of compassion and skilful means, the Buddha and our teachers have had to cope with our expectations. For this reason you will find seemingly theistic prayers in Buddhism. Especially if you go to Tibet, it gets even more colourful and more chaotic - candles, butter lamps, prayer wheels, prayer flags, shrines and all of that.
Ashoka was one of the greatest Buddhist kings and he lived about four hundred years after Buddha passed away. In pre-Ashoka Buddhism there were no Buddhist statues or symbols because, I guess, they were all busy thinking about the view. But time gets degenerated and somehow we developed the notion that the path has to be complicated. We asked for these complications, so now we have many, many complicated paths – visualisations, mantras and so on. But one should never forget that this whole path is like a boat, just to help you reach the other shore. And in this case the other shore happens to be understanding that my hand is going to decay sooner or later, that there is no such thing as a hand and that my hand is a dependent reality.
Anyway, meditation is a technique that makes you get accustomed to this view again and again and again. It is a technique, not the goal. The path is not the goal. Meditation is a technique; it is a skin that you have to peel off. The whole Buddhist path is a bit like an onion. You see a layer of skin and as you peel off the first layer you think, ‘Oh, this is it. This is my moksha, this is my enlightenment.’ Then, after a while, you realise it’s just another of your own made-up fantasies and you peel that off. As you peel off layer after layer, you end up finding nothing inside. Once Buddhists find there’s nothing, they are happy. It’s very important to release ourselves from this burden of needing to find something inside such as the soul or something precious, which if we are lucky will travel to heaven and if we are not lucky will go to hell, because according to Buddhism that’s not the right view. According to Buddhism, we have to peel off these inhibitions or hang-ups that we have. And I stress that Buddhism is, for many Buddhists, a very sophisticated and carefully designed inhibition, but it is an inhibition that we have to use now.
Of course, you know what meditation is – sitting straight, breathing normally and so on. Anyway, when somebody is meditating, there’s a sense of somebody doing nothing. That’s quite good, actually. Meditation is basically doing nothing, absolutely nothing. That’s difficult! Thousands and millions of people want to do nothing. They haven’t achieved that yet because we need to do things, if not watching television, then reading a novel, throwing a party, chanting mantras, piercing our skin or dyeing our hair. We have to do something! The reason is that when we don’t do anything, we get left alone, don’t we? And that is something we don’t like because there’s a basic insecurity within us and that basic insecurity is actually not knowing whether we exist or not. And in order to convince ourselves that we exist, we need to have sex, shop or do something. Meditation is the opposite. Meditation is always facing the truth. So how do we face the truth? By doing nothing. That’s difficult! Another thing, why do we meditate? If you want to follow the path of the Buddha, your aim is not to be happy. Happiness is not our goal. The Buddhist goal is not happiness. It’s very important to know that. So this is why Buddhism should never be understood as therapy.
Buddhism is the opposite. Buddhism really, really deconstructs you! It’s so depressing. If you really want to practise Buddhism, it can really make you disoriented. But after a while you reach a certain level where you realise there’s nothing to be disoriented about and then you reach a certain confidence. Then, I guess, you will have a lot of joy, but I haven’t reached that stage. That’s just what I was told. But one thing I definitely know is that Buddhism has got nothing to do with happiness. Why? Because happiness is a very fickle, impermanent thing. Today’s happiness is not tomorrow’s happiness. Tomorrow’s happiness is something else the day after tomorrow.
When Buddhists say, ‘May all sentient beings be happy’, what are they saying? When we talk about happiness, we are talking about understanding the truth. It’s got nothing to do with a feeling. And you know that our happiness has changed a lot. There are people about whom we get so excited, to the point where we become kind of frisky when we first meet. After about a year or two even the sight of them bothers you. These things happen!
So now back to meditation. Doing nothing, that’s a very difficult job. There are two things that are difficult. Doing nothing and thinking that you can do whatever you like, living in a free society. That’s very difficult, very difficult! Even though there is somebody who’s giving you absolute freedom, you will not use it. We don’t have the guts. We don’t have the confidence to do whatever we like. You may think you’re a member of a free society. No, you are not free within your own inhibitions. That’s difficult. These are two difficult things.
Student: Is the reason why people are so afraid of being free that they have to face their real self with whatever evil or goodness it may have? Happiness is a very fickle, impermanent thing.
Today's happiness is not tomorrow's happiness.
Tomorrow's happiness is something else
the day after tomorrow.
Rinpoche: First of all, Buddhists do not really believe in somebody giving you freedom. Secondly, we do not use freedom because we have an ego. For example, I know some people who spend so much money, buying different kinds of ties. Each tie would feed at least five hundred Ethiopian people. I don’t know why they wear ties because of all the garments we have it’s the most useless, isn’t it? You can’t keep money in it – it doesn’t have pockets. It doesn’t keep you warm. It looks like a fish hanging from your neck. We are completely free to not wear one, but because we want to look good, we need to fit into a certain society or we need to be invited to a certain party that requires us to wear a tie, we wear one. And this is how we end up doing everything that binds us.
S: You were talking about not wearing ties and I completely agree with you. But I’ve read somewhere that the colour of the robes that monks wear means something. Why is it that you must wear a specific kind of dress code?
R: As Buddhism has travelled to different parts of the world, all these cultural aspects have contributed a lot and that very contribution can also mislead people. It’s very interesting. First of all, there’s no such thing as hierarchy. Secondly, if you really need to have a hierarchy, the highest entity in Buddhism is the truth or the dharma, then Buddha, the one who taught, then the sangha or the community. So there’s that institutional arrangement. That’s one of the few institutions or symbols that theoretical Buddhism has.
But on top of that, there are robes. When Buddha was alive, he told his monks to wear one of three colours. They could choose blue, red or yellow. And ideally the material should be material discarded by people. You then have to dye it with one of these three colours, just to remind yourself that you have taken such and such a vow and to help you maintain your discipline. Other than that there’s no other significance in it. When you meditate, normally you are advised to sit straight. There is no reason why you cannot lie down and meditate. But you are encouraged to sit straight and meditate. Why? It helps to discipline yourself. There’s more chance that if you are lying down and meditating, you will fall asleep, basically. Most of the classic or theoretical Buddhist symbols or traditions have to do with discipline.
S: I’m wondering how important the view really is. Cannot someone be a perfectly normal person, without having such and such beliefs, without following such and such a view? Or is it really important and one has to try and structurise one’s view to actually attain a certain normality?
R: When we are talking about the view, there are many different levels of view. Of course, everybody has a view. A view is basically an idea and based on that idea we function. For instance, BMW is a great car. That’s a view. Then for days and nights you work hard to buy one. That’s meditation. And finally you get one; then you’re always worried about how it will or won’t get scratched. That’s action. View, meditation and action. Everything has that. But, of course, Buddhists would dispute all the other views. They would say an ordinary view has a lot of faults. That’s why they call it the relative view. Why? Because maybe a year later you will not like your BMW; you will like Ferrari instead. Now that proves that BMW is not the ultimate happiness or the ultimate truth. So what defines the ultimate view is something that will not change, something that is not dependent on any other cause and condition. The Buddhist view of looking at phenomena is that everything is impermanent, interdependent and there's no such thing as a whole.
So this is what I mean. Our view about our hand is totally wrong. We think this is the same hand as yesterday’s hand. If I ask you, ‘Were you there yesterday?’ you answer, ‘Yes’, as if yesterday’s you and today’s you are the same. But they are not. There you go. You have a wrong view there! It’s a habit. And then when I ask, ‘Who’s this you?’ you point everywhere – to your toes, your nose, your chest. You have a whole abstract idea of you. That’s a wrong view again because there’s not a solid, tangible entity that you can refer to as you.
Anyway, let’s talk about action now. Again, the action has to be based on the view. The view is the most important thing, okay? Meditation is to get accustomed to this view that we have established. Action is also to enhance this view. There are many Buddhist actions, such as meditation, visualisation, compassion, generosity and so on. But all these Buddhist actions can be abbreviated into two things based on the view: outrageousness and elegance. Why outrageousness? It’s very necessary because if you are not outrageous, you will become a slave of this wrong view. You will want to wear a tie and then you will spend the whole evening not knowing which tie to wear. You are losing it again here! Not being outrageous enough!
If you are outrageous and you are maybe meeting the prime minister for dinner, you could wear a live fish because, based on the view, a live fish would be much more valuable than this useless piece of fabric. But, then again, action has to be accompanied by elegance. Why? Because as a Buddhist, as someone who knows what the view is, you have a responsibility. Compassion has to be there. You should not go to dinner with a dead fish hanging around your neck. As a Buddhist you should not! You should wear a very elegant tie that will match your shoes and your belt. You should put it on properly and all along you should know, ‘I’m doing the most pathetic, useless thing that exists.’ These two things are the Buddhist action.
So now just to summarise. The Buddhist view of looking at our hand and at phenomena: everything is impermanent, interdependent and there’s no such thing as a whole. That’s the view. Meditation is to enhance this view. To get accustomed to this view you try to cut all these inhibitions. But how? By doing nothing. Action is to enhance even more that view. You try to practice outrageousness and elegance together. You can’t practice them one after the other. You have to practise them together.
Of course, I didn’t do justice to the vast and deep wisdom of Shakyamuni. But I hope some of you can use this approach as the door to the infinite path of Buddhism. Thank you.
(This teaching is also available as an audio tape from
Siddhartha’s Intent Southern Door, P.O. Box 1114, Strawberry
Hills, NSW, 2012, Australia.)
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Saturday, December 29, 2007
What Makes You a Buddhist?
by Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
(Article source: www.khyentsefoundation.org)
It’s not the clothes you wear, the ceremonies you perform, or the meditation you do, says Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse. It’s not what you eat, whether you drink, or who you have sex with. It’s whether you agree with the four fundamental discoveries the Buddha made under the Bodhi tree, and if you do, you can call yourself a Buddhist.
Once, I was seated on a plane in the middle seat of the middle row on a trans-Atlantic flight, and the sympathetic man sitting next to me made an attempt to be friendly. Seeing my shaved head and maroon skirt, he gathered that I was a Buddhist. When the meal was served, the man considerately offered to order a vegetarian meal for me. Having correctly assumed that I was a Buddhist, he also assumed that I don’t eat meat. That was the beginning of our chat. The flight was long, so to kill our boredom, we discussed Buddhism.
Over time I have come to realize that people often associate Buddhism and Buddhists with peace, meditation, and nonviolence. In fact many seem to think that saffron or maroon robes and a peaceful smile are all it takes to be a Buddhist. As a fanatical Buddhist myself, I must take pride in this reputation, particularly the nonviolent aspect of it, which is so rare in this age of war and violence, and especially religious violence. Throughout the history of humankind, religion seems to beget brutality. Even today religious-extremist violence dominates the news. Yet I think I can say with confidence that so far we Buddhists have not disgraced ourselves. Violence has never played a part in propagating Buddhism.
However, as a trained Buddhist, I also feel a little discontented when Buddhism is associated with nothing beyond vegetarianism, nonviolence, peace, and meditation. Prince Siddhartha, who sacrificed all the comforts and luxuries of palace life, must have been searching for more than passivity and shrubbery when he set out to discover enlightenment.
When a conversation arises like the one with my seatmate on the plane, a non-Buddhist may casually ask, “What makes someone a Buddhist?” That is the hardest question to answer. If the person has a genuine interest, the complete answer does not make for light dinner conversation, and generalizations can lead to misunderstanding. Suppose that you give them the true answer, the answer that points to the very foundation of this 2,500-year-old tradition.
One is a Buddhist if he or she accepts the following four truths:
All compounded things are impermanent.
All emotions are pain.
All things have no inherent existence.
Nirvana is beyond concepts.
These four statements, spoken by the Buddha himself, are known as “the four seals.” Traditionally, seal means something like a hallmark that confirms authenticity. For the sake of simplicity and flow we will refer to these statements as both seals and “truths,” not to be confused with Buddhism’s four noble truths, which pertain solely to aspects of suffering. Even though the four seals are believed to encompass all of Buddhism, people don’t seem to want to hear about them. Without further explanation they serve only to dampen spirits and fail to inspire further interest in many cases. The topic of conversation changes and that’s the end of it.
The message of the four seals is meant to be understood literally, not metaphorically or mystically—and meant to be taken seriously. But the seals are not edicts or commandments. With a little contemplation one sees that there is nothing moralistic or ritualistic about them. There is no mention of good or bad behavior. They are secular truths based on wisdom, and wisdom is the primary concern of a Buddhist. Morals and ethics are secondary. A few puffs of a cigarette and a little fooling around don’t prevent someone from becoming a Buddhist. That is not to say that we have license to be wicked or immoral.
Broadly speaking, wisdom comes from a mind that has what the Buddhists call “right view.” But one doesn’t even have to consider oneself a Buddhist to have right view. Ultimately it is this view that determines our motivation and action. It is the view that guides us on the path of Buddhism. If we can adopt wholesome behaviors in addition to the four seals, it makes us even better Buddhists. But what makes you not a Buddhist?
If you cannot accept that all compounded or fabricated things are impermanent, if you believe that there is some essential substance or concept that is permanent, then you are not a Buddhist.
If you cannot accept that all emotions are pain, if you believe that actually some emotions are purely pleasurable, then you are not a Buddhist.
If you cannot accept that all phenomena are illusory and empty, if you believe that certain things do exist inherently, then you are not a Buddhist.
And if you think that enlightenment exists within the spheres of time, space, and power, then you are not a Buddhist.
So, what makes you a Buddhist? You may not have been born in a Buddhist country or to a Buddhist family, you may not wear robes or shave your head, you may eat meat and idolize Eminem and Paris Hilton. That doesn’t mean you cannot be a Buddhist. In order to be a Buddhist, you must accept that all compounded phenomena are impermanent, all emotions are pain, all things have no inherent existence, and enlightenment is beyond concepts.
It’s not necessary to be constantly and endlessly mindful of these four truths. But they must reside in your mind. You don’t walk around persistently remembering your own name, but when someone asks your name, you remember it instantly. There is no doubt. Anyone who accepts these four seals, even independently of Buddha’s teachings, even never having heard the name Shakyamuni Buddha, can be considered to be on the same path as he.
THE BEAUTI FUL LOGIC OF THE FOUR SEAL S
Consider the example of generosity. When we begin to realize the first seal—impermanence—we see everything as transitory and without value, as if it belonged in a Salvation Army donation bag. We don’t necessarily have to give it all away, but we have no clinging to it. When we see that our possessions are all impermanent compounded phenomena, that we cannot cling to them forever, generosity is already practically accomplished.
Understanding the second seal, that all emotions are pain, we see that the miser, the self, is the main culprit, providing nothing but a feeling of poverty. Therefore, by not clinging to the self, we find no reason to cling to our possessions, and there is no more pain of miserliness. Generosity becomes an act of joy.
Realizing the third seal, that all things have no inherent existence, we see the futility of clinging, because whatever we are clinging to has no truly existing nature. It’s like dreaming that you are distributing a billion dollars to strangers on the street. You can give generously because it’s dream money, and yet you are able to reap all the fun of the experience. Generosity based on these three views inevitably makes us realize that there is no goal. It is not a sacrifice endured in order to get recognition or to ensure a better rebirth.
Generosity without a price tag, expectations, or strings provides a glimpse into the fourth view, the truth that liberation, enlightenment, is beyond conception.
If we measure the perfection of a virtuous action, such as generosity, by material standards—how much poverty is eliminated—we can never reach perfection. Destitution and the desires of the destitute are endless. Even the desires of the wealthy are endless; in fact the desires of humans can never be fully satisfied. But according to Siddhartha, generosity should be measured by the level of attachment one has to what is being given and to the self that is giving it. Once you have realized that the self and all its possessions are impermanent and have no truly existing nature, you have nonattachment, and that is perfect generosity. For this reason the first action encouraged in the Buddhist sutras is the practice of generosity.
A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING OF KARMA, PURITY, AND NONVIOLENCE
The concept of karma, the undeniable trademark of Buddhism, also falls within these four truths. When causes and conditions come together and there are no obstacles, consequences arise. Consequence is karma. This karma is gathered by consciousness— the mind, or the self. If this self acts out of greed or aggression, negative karma is generated. If a thought or action is motivated by love, tolerance, and a wish for others to be happy, positive karma is generated.
Yet motivation, action, and the resulting karma are inherently like a dream, an illusion. Transcending karma, both good and bad, is nirvana. Any so-called good action that is not based on these four views is merely righteousness; it is not ultimately Siddhartha’s path. Even if you were to feed all the hungry beings in the world, if you acted in complete absence of these four views, then it would be merely a good deed, not the path to enlightenment. In fact it might be a righteous act designed to feed and support the ego.
It is because of these four truths that Buddhists can practice purification. If one thinks that one is stained by negative karma or is weak or “sinful,” and is frustrated, thinking that these obstacles are always getting in the way of realization, then one can take comfort in knowing that they are compounded and therefore impermanent and thus purifiable. On the other hand, if one feels lacking in ability or merit, one can take comfort knowing that merit can be accumulated through performing good deeds, because the lack of merit is impermanent and therefore changeable.
The Buddhist practice of nonviolence is not merely submissiveness with a smile or meek thoughtfulness. The fundamental cause of violence is when one is fixated on an extreme idea, such as justice or morality. This fixation usually stems from a habit of buying into dualistic views, such as bad and good, ugly and beautiful, moral and immoral. One’s inflexible self-righteousness takes up all the space that would allow empathy for others. Sanity is lost. Understanding that all these views or values are compounded and impermanent, as is the person who holds them, violence is averted. When you have no ego, no clinging to the self, there is never a reason to be violent. When one understands that one’s enemies are held under a powerful influence of their own ignorance and aggression, that they are trapped by their habits, it is easier to forgive them for their irritating behavior and actions. Similarly, if someone from the insane asylum insults you, there is no point in getting angry. When we transcend believing in the extremes of dualistic phenomena, we have transcended the causes of violence.
THE FOUR SEALS : A PACKAGE DEAL
In Buddhism, any action that establishes or enhances the four views is a rightful path. Even seemingly ritualistic practices, such as lighting incense or practicing esoteric meditations and mantras, are designed to help focus our attention on one or all of the truths.
Anything that contradicts the four views, including some action that may seem loving and compassionate, is not part of the path. Even emptiness meditation becomes pure negation, nothing but a nihilistic path, if it is not in compliance with the four truths.
For the sake of communication we can say that these four views are the spine of Buddhism. We call them “truths” because they are simply facts. They are not manufactured; they are not a mystical revelation of the Buddha. They did not become valid only after the Buddha began to teach. Living by these principles is not a ritual or a technique.
They don’t qualify as morals or ethics, and they can’t be trademarked or owned. There is no such thing as an “infidel” or a “blasphemer” in Buddhism because there is no one to be faithful to, to insult, or to doubt. However, those who are not aware of or do not believe in these four facts are considered by Buddhists to be ignorant. Such ignorance is not cause for moral judgment. If someone doesn’t believe that humans have landed on the moon, or thinks that the world is flat, a scientist wouldn’t call him a blasphemer, just ignorant. Likewise, if he doesn’t believe in these four seals, he is not an infidel. In fact, if someone were to produce proof that the logic of the four seals is faulty, that clinging to the self is actually not pain, or that some element defies impermanence, then Buddhists should willingly follow that path instead. Because what we seek is enlightenment, and enlightenment means realization of the truth. So far, though, in all these centuries no proof has arisen to invalidate the four seals.
If you ignore the four seals but insist on considering yourself a Buddhist merely out of a love affair with the traditions, then that is superficial devotion. The Buddhist masters believe that however you choose to label yourself, unless you have faith in these truths, you will continue to live in an illusory world, believing it to be solid and real. Although such belief temporarily provides the bliss of ignorance, ultimately it always leads to some form of anxiety. You then spend all your time solving problems and trying to get rid of the anxiety. Your constant need to solve problems becomes like an addiction. How many problems have you solved only to watch others arise? If you are happy with this cycle, then you have no reason to complain.
But when you see that you will never come to the end of problem solving, that is the beginning of the search for inner truth. While Buddhism is not the answer to all the world’s temporal problems and social injustices, if you happen to be searching and if you happen to have chemistry with Siddhartha, then you may find these truths agreeable. If that is the case, you should consider following him seriously.
RICHNESS WITHIN RENUNCIATION
As a follower of Siddhartha, you don’t necessarily have to emulate his every action—you don’t have to sneak out while your wife is sleeping. Many people think that Buddhism is synonymous with renunciation, leaving home, family, and job behind, and following the path of an ascetic. This image of austerity is partly due to the fact that a great number of Buddhists revere the mendicants in the Buddhist texts and teachings, just as the Christians admire Saint Francis of Assisi. We can’t help being struck by the image of the Buddha walking barefoot in Magadha with his begging bowl, or Milarepa in his cave subsisting on nettle soup. The serenity of a simple Burmese monk accepting alms captivates our imagination.
But there is also an entirely different variety of follower of the Buddha: King Ashoka, for example, who dismounted from his royal chariot, adorned with pearls and gold, and proclaimed his wish to spread the buddhadharma throughout the world. He knelt down, seized a fistful of sand, and proclaimed that he would build as many stupas as there were grains of sand in his hand. And in fact he kept his promise. So one can be a king, a merchant, a prostitute, a junkie, or a chief executive officer and still accept the four seals. Fundamentally it is not the act of leaving behind the material world that Buddhists cherish but the ability to see the habitual clinging to this world
and ourselves and to renounce the clinging.
As we begin to understand the four views, we don’t necessarily discard things; we begin instead to change our attitude toward them, thereby changing their value. Just because you have less than someone else doesn’t mean that you are more morally pure or virtuous. In fact, humility itself can be a form of hypocrisy.
When we understand the essencelessness and impermanence of the material world, renunciation is no longer a form of self-flagellation. It doesn’t mean that we’re hard on ourselves.
The word sacrifice takes on a different meaning. Equipped with this understanding, everything becomes about as significant as the saliva we spit on the ground. We don’t feel sentimental about saliva. Losing such sentimentality is a path of bliss, sugata. When renunciation is understood as bliss, the stories of many other Indian princesses, princes, and warlords who once upon a time renounced their palace life become less outlandish.
This love of truth and veneration for the seekers of truth is an ancient tradition in countries like India. Even today, instead of looking down on renunciants, Indian society venerates them just as respectfully as we venerate professors at Harvard and Yale. Although the tradition is fading in this age when corporate culture reigns, you can still find naked, ash-clad sadhus who have given up successful law practices to become wandering mendicants. It gives me goose bumps to see how Indian society respects these people instead of shooing them away as disgraceful beggars or pests. I can’t help but imagine them at the Marriott Hotel in Hong Kong. How would the nouveauriche Chinese, desperately trying to copy Western ways, feel about these ash-clad sadhus? Would the doorman open the door for them? For that matter, how would the concierge at the Hotel Bel-Air in Los Angeles react? Instead of worshipping the truth and venerating sadhus, this is an age that worships billboards and venerates liposuction.
ADOPTING WISDOM, DROPPING DISTORTED MORALITIES
As you read this, you may be thinking, I’m generous and I don’t have that much attachment to my things. It may be true that you aren’t tightfisted, but in the midst of your generous activities, if someone walks off with your favorite pencil, you may get so angry that you want to bite his ear off. Or you may become completely disheartened if someone says, “Is that all you can give?” When we give, we are caught up in the notion of “generosity.”
We cling to the result—if not a good rebirth, at least recognition in this life, or maybe just a plaque on the wall. I have also met many people who think they are generous simply because they have given money to a certain museum, or even to their own children, from whom they expect a lifetime of allegiance.
If it is not accompanied by the four views, morality can be similarly distorted. Morality feeds the ego, leading us to become puritanical and to judge others whose morality is different from ours.
Fixated on our version of morality, we look down on other people and try to impose our ethics on them, even if it means taking away their freedom. The great Indian scholar and saint Shantideva, himself a prince who renounced his kingdom, taught that it is impossible for us to avoid encountering anything and everything unwholesome, but if we can apply just one of these four views, we are protected from all non-virtue.
If you think the entire West is somehow satanic or immoral, it will be impossible to conquer and rehabilitate it, but if you have tolerance within yourself, this is equal to conquering. You can’t smooth out the entire earth to make it easier to walk on with your bare feet, but by wearing shoes you protect yourself from rough, unpleasant surfaces.
If we can understand the four views not only intellectually but also experientially, we begin to free ourselves from fixating on things that are illusory. This freedom is what we call wisdom.
Buddhists venerate wisdom above all else. Wisdom surpasses morality, love, common sense, tolerance, and vegetarianism.
Wisdom is not a divine spirit that we seek from somewhere outside of ourselves. We invoke it by first hearing the teachings on the four seals—not accepting them at face value, but rather analyzing and contemplating them. If you are convinced that this path will clear some of your confusion and bring some relief, then you can actually put wisdom into practice.
In one of the oldest Buddhist teaching methods, the master gives his disciples a bone and instructs them to contemplate its origin. Through this contemplation, the disciples eventually see the bone as the end result of birth, birth as the end result of karmic formation, karmic formation as the end result of craving, and so on. Thoroughly convinced by the logic of cause, condition, and effect, they begin to apply awareness to every situation and every moment. This is what we call meditation.
People who can bring us this kind of information and understanding are venerated as masters because, even though they have profound realization and could happily live in the forest, they are willing to stick around to explain the view to those who are still in the dark. Because this information liberates us from all kinds of unnecessary hiccups, we have an automatic appreciation for the explainer. So we Buddhists pay homage to the teacher.
Once you have intellectually accepted the view, you can apply any method that deepens your understanding and realization. In other words, you can use whatever techniques or practices help you to transform your habit of thinking that things are solid into the habit of seeing them as compounded, interdependent, and impermanent. This is true Buddhist meditation and practice, not just sitting still as if you were a paperweight.
Even though we know intellectually that we are going to die, this knowledge can be eclipsed by something as small as a casual compliment. Someone comments on how graceful our knuckles look, and the next thing we know we are trying to find ways to preserve these knuckles. Suddenly we feel that we have something to lose. These days we are constantly bombarded by so many new things to lose and so many things to gain. More than ever we need methods that remind us and help us get accustomed to the view, maybe even hanging a human bone from the rearview mirror, if not shaving your head and retreating to a cave. Combined with these methods, ethics and morality become useful. Ethics and morality may be secondary in Buddhism, but they are important when they bring us closer to the truth. But even if some action appears wholesome and positive, if it takes us away from the four truths, Siddhartha himself cautioned us to leave it be.
THE TEA & THE TEACUP : WI SDOM WITHIN CULTURE
The four seals are like tea, while all other means to actualize these truths—practices, rituals, traditions, and cultural trappings—are like a cup. The skills and methods are observable and tangible, but the truth is not. The challenge is not to get carried away by the cup. People are more inclined to sit straight in a quiet place on a meditation cushion than to contemplate which will come first, tomorrow or the next life. Outward practices are perceivable,
so the mind is quick to label them as “Buddhism,” whereas the concept “all compounded things are impermanent” is not tangible and is difficult to label. It is ironic that evidence of impermanence is all around us, yet is not obvious to us.
The essence of Buddhism is beyond culture, but it is practiced by many different cultures, which use their traditions as the cup that holds the teachings. If the elements of these cultural trappings help other beings without causing harm, and if they don’t contradict the four truths, then Siddhartha would encourage such practices.
Throughout the centuries so many brands and styles of cups have been produced, but however good the intention behind them, and however well they may work, they become a hindrance if we forget the tea inside. Even though their purpose is to hold the truth, we tend to focus on the means rather than the outcome. So people walk around with empty cups, or they forget to drink their tea. We human beings can become enchanted, or at least distracted, by the ceremony and color of Buddhist cultural practices. Incense and candles are exotic and attractive; impermanence and selflessness are not. Siddhartha himself said that the best way to worship is by simply remembering the principle of impermanence, the suffering of emotions, that phenomena have no inherent existence, and that nirvana is beyond concepts.
Now that Buddhism is flourishing in the West, I have heard of people altering Buddhist teachings to fit the modern way of thinking. If there is anything to be adapted, it would be the rituals and symbols, not the truth itself. Buddha himself said that his discipline and methods should be adapted appropriately to time and place. But the four truths don’t need to be updated or modified, and it’s impossible to do so anyway. You can change the cup, but the tea remains pure. After surviving 2,500 years and traveling 40,781,035 feet from the Bodhi tree in central India to Times Square in New York City, the concept “all compounded things are impermanent” still applies. Impermanence is still impermanence in Times Square. You cannot bend these four rules; there are no social or cultural exceptions.
PRACTICING HARMONY
Profound truths aside, these days even the most practical and obvious truths are ignored. We are like monkeys who dwell in the forest and shit on the very branches from which we hang. Every day we hear people talking about the state of the economy, not recognizing the connection between recession and greed. Because of greed, jealousy, and pride, the economy will never become strong enough to ensure that every person has access to the basic necessities of life. Our dwelling place, the Earth, becomes more and more polluted. I have met people who condemn ancient rulers and emperors and ancient religions as the source of all conflict. But the secular and modern world has not done any better; if anything, it has done worse. What is it that the modern world has made better? One of the main effects of science and technology has been to destroy the world more quickly. Many scientists believe that all living systems and all life-support systems on Earth are in decline.
It’s time for modern people like ourselves to give some thought to spiritual matters, even if we have no time to sit on a cushion, even if we are put off by those who wear rosaries around their necks, and even if we are embarrassed to exhibit our religious leanings to our secular friends. Contemplating the impermanent nature of everything that we experience and the painful effect of clinging to the self brings peace and harmony—if not to the entire world, at least within our own sphere.
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Technorati: Buddhism Buddha Buddhist Dharma Compassion Wisdom Religion Meditation Zen Philosophy Spirituality Inspiration Peace Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Real Gurus “Couldn't care less”
Real Gurus “Couldn't care less”
The dilemma of an Eastern master in a postmodern world
An interview with Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
by Andrew Cohen (Article source: What is enlightenment? magazine)
The enlightened mentor—the guru—has throughout the ages been that great being who willingly does battle with the powerful forces of ignorance that reside in the depths of the human soul. Through his or her living presence, the guru catalyzes extraordinary transformation, guiding human beings from darkness to light, from the limitations of a small and petty existence to the free and infinite expanses of illuminated awareness. Few modern teachers are as qualified to claim the title of guru as Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche, heir to a long and illustrious lineage of enlightened Buddhist masters. In this recent interview with spiritual teacher and WIE editor in chief Andrew Cohen, Dzongsar Rinpoche candidly discusses what it takes to fulfill his role as guru and explains why the greatest challenge, East or West, is to have the courage to completely disengage from public opinion and attain “a genuine indifference.”
ANDREW COHEN: You are uniquely straddling two worlds: you were born a tulku and had traditional Buddhist education and training in your own culture, but you have spent a lot of time in the West and have also become a well-known filmmaker. So you seem to have one foot in the premodern world and one foot in the postmodern world. You are quite an independent thinker, forging your own path as one of the pioneers in this very interesting time of transition in the evolution and development of the dharma, of East-meets-West spirituality. So I would like to talk with you about what it means to be a guru at this point in history.
When someone takes on a guru, as is clearly illustrated in Words of My Perfect Teacher, it's a deep and serious engagement. And in the film, you speak very directly about the challenge that relationship poses to the ego, to the separate sense of self. The guru represents the dissolution of the ego, and yet Westerners of our generation, more often than not, don't seem to be prepared for this. And while you have said that there are many different methods for finding enlightenment, for discovering “the guru within,” one of the quickest and easiest is to receive the blessings of the teacher. Why is this? What actually is the role of the guru, and why is it so vital?
DZONGSAR Rinpoche: The reason why the guru is the most effective is because the guru is someone you are supposed to look at as being superior to a human being. But he is also someone you can relate to. A guru is someone who eats pizza, who likes the same pizza that you like. And that's quite important because at the same time that he is someone you can relate to, he is the one you have consciously or unconsciously hired to destroy yourself!
COHEN: Could you say what you mean by that?
DZONGSAR: You give up everything and then hire him to destroy your ego. And you pay him body, speech, and mind to do that.
COHEN: When you say “destroy the ego,” that's not a small thing.
DZONGSAR: Yes. That's true.
COHEN: And as we were saying earlier, it seems that the destruction of the ego is an alien concept in postmodern Western culture, which is a nonreligious secular society. In fact, it seems that in postmodern culture, the ego, or the separate self-sense, has become even more powerful as a result of the cultural revolution that began in the sixties. At that time, the emphasis became freedom of the individual and freedom for the individual. And the result is that, unlike in previous times, there was no God above that one had to fear, which in the past had perhaps engendered humility, a bit of healthy fear of something higher than oneself.
So when we in the West discovered enlightenment and then found that in order to attain it, the ego, or the separate self, had to die, this was a very big shock because culturally we had no training or preparation for this whatsoever. Now in the film, Words of My Perfect Teacher, you speak about how you hire the guru to be the assassin, the man or woman you hire to “completely dismantle you.” But how does a teacher succeed in “dismantling” their students' egos in this kind of cultural milieu?
DZONGSAR: It's difficult. This is why defining ego is very important, especially within a culture that doesn't have this kind of background. And I think the classic way of defining the ego is, at the end of the day, the only solution: Ignorance—which is the same as ego—is when you're looking at two, or more than two, ever-changing transitory things, and yet you think that they're one; you think they're independent and permanent. That is ignorance and that is ego.
For instance, if I look at my hand, I make three mistakes. One, I think it's the same hand I had this morning. But that's not true; it has changed. And two, I think there's something called “hand” when there actually isn't because it's a part of a lot of things—my veins, my skin, my blood, all kinds of things.
COHEN: So the point is that there's no such thing as independent existence.
DZONGSAR: Right. And then another mistake I make is not realizing that the existence of my hand actually depends on many things. For instance, the fact that the ceiling hasn't fallen on my hand is the reason why it's moving, why it's there. But I don't think in that way. I think my hand is there because my hand is there.
COHEN: You're talking about what is called “dependent origination,” the understanding that everything that exists depends upon everything else that exists, which depends upon everything else that exists. In this, one sees that one's own self exists as part of this infinitely dependent process in which there is no one who is isolated or separate from the whole.
DZONGSAR: Yes, and all this information needs to be transmitted to one who wants to be the victim of the guru.
COHEN: In the movie, you also spoke about how the guru crushes people's pride, as the means to purify them of ego motivations and attachment.
DZONGSAR: Yes, because pride is thinking something that is not necessarily you. For instance, if I asked you, “Are you a man?” you would say, “Yes.” That is confidence, not pride. Now, if I ask, “Are you a superman?” and you say, “Yes,” that may be pride because “super” is only an adjective, and is not imputed. Pride, ego, and ignorance are all synonymous.
COHEN: And you said that the teacher who “crushes your pride and makes this worldly life completely miserable is something that you ask for. He is the assassin, he is the man or woman whom you have hired to completely dismantle you.”
DZONGSAR: You may not realize that's what you're doing, but that's the idea—to dismantle everything: your identity, everything. And it's not like dismantling one big habit. It changes. Let's say today I would like to be stroked. Then a teacher should not stroke me. Or maybe today I would like to be beaten. Then maybe I should be stroked. So that's why this is actually beyond abuse and not abuse. If somebody bites you or beats you and handcuffs you, that's a kind of abuse, isn't it? But what I'm talking about is ultimate abuse. At the same time, abuse phenomena only exist if you are still clinging to transitory phenomena as permanent and real. If you don't, there is nothing to be abused. But that's difficult, really difficult.
COHEN: In that case, the teacher's work would be done.
DZONGSAR: Yes, of course. But the kind of student we're talking about doesn't exist. And that kind of teacher doesn't exist, either. Teachers don't have that kind of courage. I don't have it. I may be a teacher, but I don't have that kind of courage because I love my reputation. Who wants to be referred to as an abuser? I don't. I am a sycophant. I try to go along with what people think. If people think a teacher should shave his head, wear something maroon, walk gently, eat only vegetarian food, be so-called serene, then I'm very tempted to do that. Rajneesh had the guts to have ninety-three Rolls Royces. I call it guts. One Rolls Royce is one thing. Even two or three—but ninety-three is guts! And I don't have the guts, the confidence. I like Rajneesh very much. I like him much better than Krishnamurti. Many of his words are quite good, and I can see why the Westerners would like him.
COHEN: Perhaps the problem with Krishnamurti was that he pretended that he wasn't a guru or a master, although he obviously was. I think this made it very difficult for people.
DZONGSAR: Yes; it was a contradiction.
COHEN: Are you saying, then, that you hold back with your students?
DZONGSAR: I do, always.
COHEN: At the same time, you said in the film that you're an assassin—that that's your job.
DZONGSAR: Yes, in the context that if I am a student's teacher, then that is my job. But I'm not promising I can do it. You know, but I love very much the eight worldly dharmas. I'm like these police undercover cops who are sent into a Mafia family. What I'm supposed to do is really check out these people, but I fall in love with what they do, so I follow what they want. It's difficult. And that comes from attachment to the eight worldly dharmas—attachment to the praise and fear of the criticism.
COHEN: But some of the greatest Tibetan gurus have the reputation for being the most fierce, like Marpa, for example. He was the fiercest.
DZONGSAR: Oh, yes, of course. They could do it because they have no agenda. Their only agenda was to enlighten. They didn't care what people said, what other people thought—I call it CCL: couldn't-care-less-ness. That holds the biggest power. But who has it today? No one.
COHEN: One of the most interesting things that was revealed about you in the film was the juxtaposition of the roles you're playing. As a guru in the West, you are working with Western students who, at least in theory, are coming to you for enlightenment, and yet who come from this postmodern context where there's an inherent mistrust of authority. Whereas in Bhutan, thousands and thousands of Bhutanese people have no doubt that you are a living god.
DZONGSAR: I think on both continents I have mastered the art of pretense. I go to Bhutan and I know what to do for them, to do what is most harmonious. Because if I act or say things in Bhutan or in Tibet that I say in the West, I'll be in trouble. Now that is what I was referring to before. I do this because I don't want to lose disciples; I don't want to be criticized. Of course, I can justify those actions by saying, “Oh, it's coming from a good motivation, because I don't want to jeopardize the spiritual path of hundreds of people.”
COHEN: You described in the film how it's very difficult for you to have an authentic relationship with many of your Bhutanese devotees because of the kind of admiration they have for you. But with your Western students, there is the fundamental ego position that feels that “no one is higher than me.” And this also presents difficulty, because for any authentic guru to be able to help a student achieve enlightenment, there has to be the acceptance from the outset that the guru has realized something that the student has not yet realized. Then, of course, there's the tremendous pressure the teacher places on the ego and the student's identification with it. And in Words of My Perfect Teacher, Lesley Ann Patten showed very well how many of your Western students were struggling with these very issues—with the notions of hierarchy and authority, and even with their lack of faith in the possibility of enlightenment itself.
DZONGSAR: Yes, exactly. But in both cultures there is one thing that is similar—it's this culprit: expectation. In Eastern cultures, like in Bhutan, there may be blind devotion, but they all have an expectation. In the Western culture, they may be skeptical and secular, but there's also expectation. And that expectation, while it may manifest differently, fundamentally has only one nature and that is that everybody wants to be happy. And that is where things go wrong.
To be a Buddhist and to be practicing dharma have nothing to do with being happy. If you're practicing the dharma to be happy, then it's like you're doing the opposite, just the opposite. Enlightenment has nothing to do with happiness or unhappiness. And both cultures come to me to be happy. That really is the source of all the misunderstanding.
COHEN: Yes. The goal is to be free from both happiness and unhappiness.
DZONGSAR: Yes, and I have to teach them what to expect. But it's really difficult.
COHEN: The fact that you are in these two different cultures seems to make it challenging for you to be simply and authentically yourself. Because on the one hand, in Bhutan, there is a certain role you need to assume, which you've accepted—that's your dharma, your destiny. But there are restrictions associated with that premodern context. And in the West, because of the postmodern secular context, there are also restrictions. So your own capacity to just be fully and spontaneously yourself, even as a teacher or as a guru, must be inhibited in both cases. Could you speak a little bit about this?
DZONGSAR: This is a very good question. It all goes to tell me that the bottom line is that I need to develop my courage, the courage to learn CCL—“couldn't-care-less-ness.” In the morning, with a little bit of good motivation, I can start teaching. That will accumulate some merit, I'm sure. At least I'm not going around teaching people to blow themselves up or kill infidels. And even teaching I only do when I'm in a spiritual mood. But my job now, my duty is to first develop my “couldn't-care-less-ness.” The bottom line is that I need to learn that; I need to achieve that. Then, even if I receive bad publicity in the West, I couldn't care less. Once I achieve that, then I'll reach a certain level where real genuine compassion is. Until then, everything is a bit deceptive.
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Technorati: Buddhism Buddha Buddhist Dharma Compassion Wisdom Religion Meditation Zen Philosophy Spirituality Inspiration Peace Insight
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Enlightenment
When you don't have obsession,
when you don't have hang-ups,
when you don't have inhibition,
when you are not afraid
you will be breaking certain rules,
when you are not afraid
you will not fulfill somebody's expectations,
what more enlightenment do you want?
Thats it!
~ Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche
Quoted from movie 'Words of my Perfect Teacher'
'Words of my Perfect Teacher' is a great movie not to be missed.
Watch the movie trailer:
It's showing in Singapore during the Asian Buddhist Film Festival (Singapore) 2007 : www.AsianBuddhistFilmFest.org
Some words on the movie:
"Dedicated to all teachers and students", with the wish that "compassion and wisdom flourish", "Words of My Perfect Teacher" is a quest for a perfect teacher by the filmmaker (Lesley Ann Patten) and her friends. Initially unsure of whether she has stumbled upon the guru she has been longing to find, she decides to make a film about her potential guru - with his blessings of course - as a subtle skillful means to understand more about his teachings. Having titled the film such, she probably found the guru she was looking for! The film juxtaposes thought-provoking interviews during excursions in different countries in the East and West, set against the backdrop of an infectious Dharma-inclined soundtrack.
The film opens with a brief introduction of the Buddha - "Some 2500 years ago in India, a man was born named Siddhartha. At age 35, he awoke with the dawn and realized that wisdom that he had been searching for had never been lost. He became known as Buddha, the awakened one. The Buddha said this enlightenment could be realized in one lifetime, or over many. It was the birthright of every human being. But to perfect it, you need a teacher." Yes, a teacher is needed, unless one's spiritual capacity is similar to that of the Buddha himself, though he did have teachers in his previous lives too. As narrated, "Every step to enlightenment has to be taken yourself - so the most important reference point to have is a teacher who points the way." Here's more on why we need teachers, as advised by the titular teacher -
"We do know we have to crush our ego. In order to do that, we somehow, we have to see a model if you like, a model who has done it. Okay? And we have to admire that model and when we admire, then there is a father, there is a leader. There is all that thing - Buddha, whatever. That is the only way to go. I mean how could you teach someone, in order to crush their ego? Look at your teacher as your maid - it won't work. Maybe for some very particular people. But it does work when you need to look up at someone higher than you, or someone more pure than you." Interestingly, even the historical Buddha was inspired by previous Buddhas.
So what is the problem with our lives, such that we seek spiritual liberation? Lesley sums it up neatly - "Yes, there it was, from the moment of birth, the first thing the Buddha taught - the truth of suffering. It was the background noise, amidst moments of happiness or distraction; it was always there. An anxiety born from the struggle against change, impermanence, not getting what you wanted, getting what you didn't want."
The guru in "question" looks perfectly ordinary, though his background is extraordinary. As introduced, Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Norbu was born into an illustrious family of Buddhist teachers - known to be intellectually brilliant, great artists, heroically kind, and awake. At the age of seven, he was formally recognised as the third incarnation of Jamyang Kyentse Wangpo, one of the most admired teachers of the last two centuries. Centred in Bhutan, he plays multiple roles. He has an international teaching schedule with disciples all over the world, and is so deeply respected in Bhutan that its citizens hesitate to look him in the eye. An avid filmmaker, he also runs several charitable foundations, and monasteries in Tibet, India and Bhutan. (See www.KhyentseFoundation.org and www.SiddharthasIntent.org for more information.) In his words, "My job is to help sentient beings."
Despite being revered by so many, the mischievous Rinpoche self-effacingly says that "All the paranoia that ordinary people have I have too." He reveals that, at times, he hates his "profession", because there is "so much hypocrisy, pretense, so much cultural hang-ups." He even says "I wish I am just an ordinary person." With a compelling opening like that, it is difficult not to hear more of what he thinks of his own role as a teacher. Much later in the film, he exclaims that, "We want our teacher slightly human being. We want him to like what we like, we want him to dislike what we dislike, we want to share things - so this shows there is a certain element that we want him to be not that special. And at the same time, he has to be slightly special too. That's a big difficulty there." This he says seriously, though we also see his casual moments of enjoying watching football. Does he merely manifest ordinariness as a compassionate skillful means to connect to us? Maybe?
Is Rinpoche truly enlightened, or merely projected to be so by his followers? Maybe we shouldn't be too concerned with that. In a way, anyone with a "more enlightened" outlook on life is surely a guru to that extent. In the enlightening words by Rinpoche, it does seem that he is more enlightened than most of us. Consider this intriguing dialogue -
Kent: Your students consider you enlightened. Rinpoche, do you consider yourself enlightened?
Rinpoche: Me? No. Because
But what if a person truly grossly sees someone wrongly as a teacher? Is that not dangerous? Let's hear what Rinpoche says on this -
Luke: How can we determine if a teacher is a genuine teacher?
Rinpoche: That is a good question. It is very difficult, but I mean, especially as a deluded being. People like us, I mean, our judgement, even if we judge that someone is a really good teacher, how much can we trust with our own judgement? Many times our own judgement has failed us. This is why, in Buddhism, study, contemplation, not accepting Buddhism with blind faith, with blind devotion, is very much stressed. Especially initially - by the Buddha himself. Again and again. not to depend on a person but depend on the teachings he gives you. And not simply like that. You have to - it will always be an insurance, if you like to study, to contemplate on the Buddhist texts, study them. And then finally, once you are slightly matured, I would say, you know this - even if all the other qualities failed, maybe your teacher is not learned, maybe not, I don't know, gentle. But one thing that I think you should look for is a teacher who is not interested in himself. A teacher who is totally interested in you and fellow sentient beings.
As Rinpoche says, of the mission of a good teacher - "Your goal is to see. All the worldly values have no value. If you have that kind of view, and that kind of aim, then a genuine teacher who breaks all this pride, crushes your pride. Makes this worldly life completely miserable, this is something that you asked for... He has to be the mirror to see yourself, but he's also the assassin. He is the man or the woman whom you have hired to completely dismantle yourself." Perhaps thus, we see him in the film pushing the buttons of the filmmaker, seemingly to test her. It might seem a wee bit contrived when a student says that when his expectations of Rinpoche are not met, he is still teaching him something... patience maybe? This might seem to be foolish rationalisation, but it is also foolish to feel disappointment or anger.
Rinpoche says that he likes "teaching students in many different situations - in a garden, in a bar, in a toilet." These are modern times, and communication can be done differently. Consider his rationale for making films, which is seen by some Buddhists as unconventional for a Buddhist master. He says that 1000 years ago, masters paint thangkas to express compassion and wisdom. What he does is simply "painting" using modern technology. He is the director of "The Cup" and "Travelers and Magicians" - both of which were well received.
With much advice on how to seek a teacher, the film is also full of illuminating dialogue on various spiritual matters. Here are some transcribed excerpts, in no particular order -
On Great Teachers
Gesar: You can't just expect to wake up one day, and the greatest teacher in the world has come to your house. If you expect to have a great relationship with a great teacher, you need to exert yourself extremely... You should never have a sense of doubt with your teacher. If there is ever that sense of doubt with a great teacher, they pick it up and they're there giving you the tools to voice your doubt. The lesser teachers, the malicious fakes, are only interested in cementing their greatness in your mind. When the great teachers are challenged by their students, they enjoy that, and they like that, because it sort of shows that they're gaining intelligence. Great masters never write anyone off.
Rinpoche: Tibetans even have a saying - "If a snow lion comes down to the ground too much, then the snow lion will be mistaken as a dog." But also, lion's roar is wasted if there is nobody hearing. The very reason why you roar is so that someone would get intimidated, get inspired, sort of have some ideas. If you are totally isolated, what's the point?
Lesley: Even tulkus (recognised reborn masters) have to be students before they become teachers.
On Attachment to Teachers
Lesley: . they (some students) also have this grasping quality towards the teacher.
Rinpoche: Yes. Well, it is a very complicated relationship. Like the Zen master said: To study Buddhism is to study about yourself. To study about yourself is to forget about yourself... The ultimate aim of Dharma practice, is to forget. Not to say forget, actually to really transcend, to go beyond these distinctions. Now that should be the fundamental base, where we develop a student and teacher's relationship. But not many times it happens this way. Many times, a student relationship is just another relationship. Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, man, woman. So, that is why there is a game. So when the student is insecure, students play games. When the guru is insecure also. Gurus who are not accomplished - they have insecurity, and they play games. That's why, first of all, students don't go to a teacher, seeking for something they need. Rather they go there to look for something they want. Similar things happen from the teacher too. Many of us, many of the teachers like myself, we are not even brave enough to really give what a student really needs. And what a student really needs could be very raw, very painful. Very naked. And who has courage to do that? So difficult. Because many of us we have agendas. Agenda is the big problem in this world, basically. One should be agenda free.
Lesley: What about the fact, there seems to be a point where a student has to stand up to the teacher or get away from the teacher.
Rinpoche: But that is the path. You see. You are not supposed to, but we know that you will do it, and when you do it, you watch your mind.
Rinpoche: The whole reason you go to a teacher is, ironically, is so "one will not want". You don't want to leave the Guru as an external saviour. You want to realize your mind; the nature of your mind is the Guru. The Guru is only a bridge. So, ultimately, wanting something from an external source is something that we have to eliminate.
Rinpoche: According to Buddhism, a student has to be like a patient and the teacher, like myself, should be like a doctor. The patient must reveal everything openly without any fear, without any inhibition.
Rinpoche: The very trust, that can also have its disadvantages, because it can become blind faith. The very freshness of the West, the freshness, the inquisitive or sceptical, they are very good qualities. But then, sometimes, this can also go too far. You end up not practicing because you end up analyzing all the time.
On Hypocrisy of Teachers & Students
Rinpoche: Many teachers... don't have courage to give their children, their disciples, what they need. Because they have agenda. They want to give them what they want. And that can spoil them. And that can make them emotionally dependent on them. Very much. That is a big responsibility on the teacher. If the teacher and the students are genuinely interested in enlightenment... but if they just want to build a [worldly, instead of spiritual] relationship, yeah, that is the way to go. One should be more superior, and one should be a little inferior, attempting to become superior. But always one step behind. And that works. That's how the relationship works.
Rinpoche: . Hypocrisy, people like I have, doing one thing, in front of, maybe a picture of my teachers and do something else, behind. That shows there is a lack of acceptance - that your teacher is the Buddha - he knows everything, so there is no such thing as behind the picture or in front. [In Vajrayana Buddhism, the guru is seen as a representation of the Buddha.]
On Happiness & Suffering
Luc: We opened the refrigerator door, ten o'clock at night, looking inside, looking. what are we looking for? What is it really that we want? There may be a piece of cheesecake, but really we want happiness. And we are looking in the refrigerator. Well, guess what, you know? Happiness cannot be found in the refrigerator. It's just not there. But it's obvious, but at the same time, we do this, isn't it? We are just looking with this look of "I want, I want something." Not understanding the whole mechanism, the whole, sort of, the whole process of how we achieve happiness.
Rinpoche: When Buddhists talk about suffering, we're not talking about a pain, we are talking about change, the uncertainty. See, when people talk about suffering, they are talking about like a gross pain, like a headache or a depression or something. That is, like, already like too late. That's like only aftermath. But in every level there is change. Everything is changing and everything is uncertain, and that is suffering.
Rinpoche: When you don't have obsession, when you don't have hang-up, when you don't have inhibition, when you are not afraid you will be breaking a certain rule, when you are not afraid you will not fulfill somebody's expectations, what more enlightenment do you want? That's it.
Rinpoche: Your own nature of mind is radiant, enlightened, and uncontrived, but because we don't know that, because we are so caught up with all kinds of hang-ups, and inhibitions and all that, then we lose that radiance, so we get depressed, emotional, aggressive, all of this. Ideally, we should understand that these are all our imagination, so that slowly we build this confidence to walk out of it.
Shirley: If you see one (bomb) in the sky and it's coming towards you, don't run away from it - you run towards it. So it passes over your head... and I've always thought that is a good way to live life. You know, don't run from your problems, go meet them.
On the Mind
Rinpoche: Everything is your mind. Or interpretation of your mind. Everything is your imagination. And there is nothing that is not an imagination. Therefore imagination is very powerful. Imagination is the only reality that we have. Within the imagination there is a fantasy and a reality.
Luc: Phenomena also means what happens to our mind when we are in a football game. Football is a game. You are supposed to play it, enjoy it. If it becomes serious, like for the hooligans, then the problem is obviously not the game, the problem is believing one's own thoughts, and that's when it becomes dangerous.
Luc: It's always a mind that's perceiving, it's always a mind that's experiencing, it's a mind that's elated. It's also about a concept. I'm Canadian, what is Canada? Is it this sort of a border? No - borders change. It's not the people because the people, obviously there's new people born now, than there were 100 years ago. The constitution changes, the government changes, every single thing about Canada, about any country, changes constantly. Yet, people kill other people because they believe in the reality of this thing. That's sort of you know, vague, and is very clearly a concept. It's a concept like the square root of two. How many people would go to war for the square root of two? For pi?
Lesley: The stakes have gone up, from the aggression of soccer hooligans to the brutality of armies. In a way, the war was like an exaggerated rendering of my own egotism. I realised, none of us will have true happiness until we learn to deal with our own minds. Because the mind is the starting point for all suffering, entrenched views, closed hearts, and prejudice.
On Practice & Spontaneity
Luc: Rinpoche's Grandfather Dudgom Rinpoche, he used to say, "The truth is so close that we can't see it. It's like our eyelashes." We can't see our own eyelashes. That's why, out of compassion, the Buddha developed all these elaborate practices, because we simply cannot accept the simplicity of this.
Rinpoche: We are getting more and more distant from spontaneity. And that is really creating all the big mess, really. I mean like ecology... We are not happy to spontaneously just camp under a cave or tree. We need to now have a hotel, for instance. So the credit cards and all that. We, human beings - we ask for a programmed life. And some of us think that secures everything. Now it's too late, I mean, if you want an excursion ticket, you have to book it three months before. No more spontaneity, my dear.
On Pilgrimages
Rinpoche: Pilgrimage, although it has become very ritual now... It is, devotion is a ritualistic thing. The essence of going on pilgrimage, is to remind ourselves, that such [enlightened] beings exist. Not as a hero, okay, not as someone who has done this, did this. But as an example. Even going to places like Hiroshima, probably can, even if it is a minute, remind you, how we human beings destroy ourselves. It's like that. Going to Kushinagara for instance, can remind you that life isn't permanent. Even the Buddha himself. [In terms of his manifestation of physical passing.] Going to places like that, Sarnath [where the Buddha gave his first teaching], can remind you that one of the greatest things that has been said in this world, has been said there. And then it might evoke a little interest. What did he say? Know the suffering. Abandon the cause of suffering. And so on, and so on. It's so important you know, to remind ourselves. I mean of course if you are a good practitioner, you don't need those things. I think one should help ourselves with all kinds of help. Even if it requires some type of gross reminder, like holy lands, mountains, trees. Whatever. It's like keeping the nostalgia. The nostalgia can open a door to many things. Nostalgia can be a fuel for creativity. Here we are talking about the nostalgia of an enlightened being. And that may trigger the creativity in the sense of really valuing the Dharma, spiritual path. And seeing the futility of this worldly life.
On Ultimate Truth
Rinpoche: Buddhists in general are trying to train people's mind to think on gentleness, kindness, love, compassion and so on and on. That is all path. But when you talk about everything as mind, you are approaching to the ultimate truth... As we approach the ultimate truth, first thing we have to realise is that then, we are not talking about path - okay? You see, don't bring the path in here. When we talk about path, of course, we have to talk about goodness and badness. And all that. What needs to be abandoned, what needs to be practiced. Not as we approach the ultimate, then we don't talk this anymore... [As an example,] A woman who desperately wishes to have, a baby, dreams that she is pregnant and even giving birth. She is so happy. Within the very same dream, the baby dies, and she is very unhappy. She wakes up, and the happiness of having the baby, and the pain of the death of the baby are all gone. The third experience is what the Buddha is trying to aim. Not to have the baby. Not to "not to have" the baby. But to go beyond that.
On Renunciation
Bernardo Bertolucci (Director of "Little Buddha", for which Rinpoche was a consultant): Then he (Rinpoche) said, "Wouldn't the ultimate renunciation be the renunciation of renunciation?" Which is absolutely brilliant, because renunciation means to give up everything. The renunciation of renunciation means to give up giving up, so as to be able to embrace everything. Extraordinary.
The film closes with Rinpoche translating a prayer he recited - "How wonderful it is that Siddhartha came to this Earth. How wonderful it is that a simple man, Siddhartha, became enlightened. How wonderful it is that this enlightened being left us the path that led him to enlightenment. Lastly, how wonderful it is that even he did not stay on as a mortal being." [So as to remind us to treasure the shortness of life, to practise diligently.]
Who is you perfect teacher? Have you found him or her yet? If not, the Buddha and his Dharma in the sutras can always be your default perfect teachers. Life itself is a teacher. Similar to what Luc mentioned, everything can teach us something, if only we are willing to learn. If so, may we open our hearts and minds to learn well. You might not have a perfect teacher in the flesh, but you can always be a perfect student! (Part of the material in this review is found in the "Bonus Material" section of the film's DVD.)
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Technorati: Buddhism Buddha Buddhist Dharma Compassion Wisdom Religion Meditation Zen Philosophy Spirituality Inspiration Peace Insight
