Last
week I was in Austin, Texas, where I have a Buddhist sangha. I gave a
weekend retreat and some evening talks at a church there. One morning,
the Montessori school invited me to come and talk to their kids. There
were 75 kids there, between 7 and 11 years old. I wondered exactly what
I was going to do. From the minute the kids started trickling in the
door, they came right up to me, climbed on me and asked me questions.
There was no beginning and no end. It just happened. Near the end, we
did the Gong Meditation: Following the sound of a gong, seeing where it
goes, and just being there for a moment or two.
That
weekend, one of the women in the weekend retreat came up to me at lunch
time and asked if she could speak to me. She wanted to tell me a story
about her 8-year-old son who was at my Gong Meditation. She said her son
had come home and told her that something very unusual had happened that
day at school. She said, “Do you want to tell me about it?” He said,
“Yes. A monk from Tibet, New York came.” (Sort of like Paris, Texas, I
guess.) The boy said that the monk — me! — taught them about God and
Buddha and the Gong Meditation. She asked what that was.
He said,
“Well. He told us to watch where the sound went, and to listen
carefully. I didn’t know you could watch and listen to the same thing.
It was very interesting. He said that if you followed and watched where
the sound went, that you might get closer to God. And I did that.”
His
mother said, “Yes, and…?”
And the
boy said, “Well, when I watched and listened to where the sound went, I
didn’t get closer to God. I was God.”
I
thought that was pretty cool. “…From the mouth of babes,” as the
scripture says. When I finished that Gong Meditation — it only took
about 30 seconds; God realization doesn’t take very long, at least if
you are young enough! — I said, “So where did the sound go?” And every
hand went up! I couldn’t believe it. I said, “Shh. Don’t say anything.”
I didn’t want to ruin it. But they all knew. Isn’t it amazing? Some kids
even had both hands raised!
I was
very touched by that, the freshness of the youthful experience of just
sensing. Not even wondering “What is God” or “Who am I to say I am God.”
No such editing takes place at that age. Just “Oh yeah, God. I am that.”
Right
there actually is the whole teaching of Dzogchen, the innate Great
Perfection: “I am That.” But who can say that with certainty at this
moment, as that little boy did? So perhaps we have strayed a little bit
from home plate. We were out somewhere in the outfield. We even missed
the bases. Or worse, we’re in the bleachers just watching the game, not
even playing it any more. Still, we started at home and we can come home
again. That child took only about 10 seconds; for us it takes maybe an
hour. As one of my Zen teachers used to say, “It’s good to try to sit
hard in zazen, but nobody gets enlightened after half an hour of zazen.”
So we shouldn’t expect too much. It is a life’s journey. Not just an
instant high of enlightenment experience. But I think it is very
available to us, this so-called enlightenment experience. Actually,
realization is now; it is now, or never — as always!
I should
define terms a little bit. The only way to define enlightenment is to
say that it is not what we think it is. That’s the safest thing to say.
As Kris Kristofferson wrote, “Freedom is just another word for nothing
left to lose.” So freedom and enlightenment are not exactly what we
think they are. We have a lot of concepts about these things; they are
probably best left aside. That child didn’t have so many, so he got
right to the point quickly, which was very gratifying to me. I hope and
pray that moment is like a seed, informing his whole life.
We are
not exactly what we think we are, which, I think, is where it starts to
get interesting. Then, what are we? Who are we? We might turn the
searchlight inward and start to find out a little bit, come home, and
make ourselves at home, here in this universe, instead of acting like
disenfranchised aliens, strangers in a strange land.
Tonight
I would like to introduce the basic, fundamental teaching of Buddhism,
from the ground up. Let’s see if we can apply it to our lives, where it
counts. Over the next four or five Monday nights I would like to talk
about the enlightenment experience, the Four Noble Truths taught by the
Buddha 2500 years ago — the basic facts of life according to enlightened
vision — and the Eightfold Path to enlightenment, or, as I have been
thinking about it, the eight principles or steps of enlightened living.
This is so we can understand some of what is going on with us, and how
our spiritual practice relates to our life and to freedom and nirvanic
peace, ultimate fulfillment.
We’ll
also discuss and explore what all this has to do with meditation; how
meditation helps us realize these truths, which are actually
self-evident. Because the Buddhadharma — the teachings of Buddha, or,
better than that, the truth of how things are (meaning the vision
according to awakened enlightenment) — is not something we have to
believe, like dogma. In Buddhism, there is nothing to believe; there is
just everything to learn, to explore, to discover, to recover, to come
home to, and to inhabit, at last. To fully inhabit our lives, our
genuine being.
Buddhism
is descriptive: it says how things are. It is not prescriptive: It
doesn’t tell us what to do. It describes how things are, and we get to
choose. And we experience according to those choices. That is both the
good news and the bad news. The Buddha is in the palm of our hands: What
we do with it makes all the difference.
OK. To
begin at the beginning. The basic, most fundamental thing about Buddhism
is the so-called enlightenment experience, which is our birthright, our
true nature. It is utterly possible and accessible. It’s not just
something Buddha experienced; many have realized enlightenment
throughout the ages. That’s what all of this business is about, whether
you call it Buddhism, the wisdom traditions, or the Perennial
Philosophy. Enlightenment, spiritual awakening, illumination,
self-realization, satori — these are all more or less synonyms. It means
recognizing who and what we are. It means discovering or realizing our
true nature. It is coming home; it is not finding something that we
never had before. It is right here, always; we are usually
elsewhere! It is here, even now.
Out of
such a breakthrough, peak experience we perceive everything a little
differently, which is very fulfilling, meaningful, and liberating. For
example, we might notice that things are not exactly the way we thought
they were. This can effect a radical transformation in our lives; it
depends on what we do with that insight. We might realize that we are
barking up the wrong tree or chasing our own tail…woof, woof, like dogs.
We might realize that we have climbed the ladder of success in some, or
even many, ways, but the ladder is leaning on the wrong wall. We might
have an identity crisis, even if we’re 40 or 50 years old, and wonder
what the hell we are doing, and why? Why do we die? Why are we
suffering? Why are we so rarely satisfied? What does it all mean?
Buddha,
out of his awakening — known as enlightenment — gave his first talk
about this in the Deer Park in Benares. It is called the Fire Teaching,
because he said, when asked why he was shining with nirvanic peace,
“Because I have realized a truth that is beyond suffering. All created,
conditioned things are unreliable or dissatisfying ultimately; all are
burning. I have realized something that is beyond this conditioning,
this unreliable, impermanent, dissatisfying world. It is right in the
midst of it, but it is not the things.”
So he
described this as the First Noble Truth, or the first fact of life: All
created or conditioned things are ultimately dissatisfying. The word in
Pali or Sanskrit is dukkha. Sometimes it is translated as
suffering, but that is a very weak translation. It means dissatisfying,
dissatisfactoriness; what Christianity might state as nothing in this
world can satisfy us, or everything in this side of the world is
imperfect. Buddha meant that all forms of unenlightened life are
suffering, dissatisfactory, in the ultimate analysis. It means
everything that is conditioned falls apart, is uncertain, unreliable,
not satisfying. Can anybody think of any examples that are not true of
that? Anything that is ultimately satisfying? Anybody? That’s the thing.
When you really look into it, what is satisfying, really? We have
moments of satisfaction, but what is beyond this roller coaster ride,
this yo-yo, up and down, highs and lows? Through enlightened vision,
through awakening, we realize a nirvanic peace, which is not a created
or conditioned thing. It is not a composite, a fabrication. It is not a
state of mind, which can fall apart. It is the natural state, the true
fundamental nature. It is not unreliable and uncertain. It is not
dissatisfying. So that’s the first fact of life: dukkha, the
dissatisfactory nature of all conditioned things, that everything is off
the mark.
On the
other hand, our true nature, our luminous core, our ineffable nature,
our Buddha-nature is not a created thing. It is not dissatisfactory. It
is not impermanent. It is not subject to change. It is perfect,
luminous, free and complete from the beginningless beginning. It is not
something in this world that we can shop for and obtain. Practicing
meditation is a path to rediscovering that, to awakening the Buddha
within, to recognizing that which is ultimately fulfilling, satisfying,
meaningful, and joyous even.
That’s
what all this is about. It’s not about religion or belief or dogma or
rituals or joining the newest club. It’s not the newest fad to get high.
(Well, it might be, but I hope that’s not the whole story!) It is not
about belonging to a group. It is a very personal and intimate
relationship with one’s true self, one’s true nature, in the heart of
which we are all interconnected. It is not selfish; it is
transpersonally related to each of us, yet beyond any one of us.
I think
I’ll cover the first truth tonight, and just mention the other ones and
explore them next week. These noble truths are something we should know.
Then we can see if they are true, if they apply to our own experience,
and how they can actually work for us, to provide the spiritual rewards
this path promises whoever chooses to follow it.
The
First Truth is the truth of dukkha or dissatisfactoriness of all
conditioned, created things. How impermanent, hollow, short-lived,
unreliable, and uncertain they are, if carefully scrutinized.
The
Second Truth is the cause of that dissatisfactoriness; because, after
all, the Dharma is interested in only one thing: the end of suffering,
the alleviation of dissatisfaction and distress. That’s what the Buddha
said. He said, “Don’t ask me whether God exists. Don’t ask me where the
world came from. That’s not my business. My business is solely
dissatisfactoriness and the end of it; suffering, misery, and bondage,
and their end, the sure heart’s release.”
The
second fact of life, which he explained was the cause of dukkha, the
cause of this dissatisfaction, is attachment, resistance, craving,
clinging, fixation, greed, preoccupation, holding on. Because everything
is uncertain, unreliable, impermanent, flowing and passing, how can
holding on ever be ultimately satisfying? Even if we get what we want,
how long can we hold onto it? Even if it stays around, we
are gone, since we — each of us — are just another impermanent thing.
The cause of that dissatisfactoriness is our incessant holding on,
resistance, clinging, attachment, greed, and desire — acting out of our
ignorance about the true nature of things. Let’s look and see if this is
not the case, in our own lives.
The
Third Truth is the end of this dukkha, the end of suffering, the end of
craving; nonattachment, which is release, nirvana, total openness,
emptiness. That’s the end of suffering right there, the end of
attachment. In the sutras it is called the heart’s sure release or
relief. Nirvanic peace is relief from suffering, change,
dissatisfaction, confusion, exhaustion, and so on. Is it not true that
when we kiss the joy as it flies, rather than cling to it, we live in
eternal sunrise, as Blake sang? Isn’t greed, desire, and clinging
dissatisfying, even when we momentarily get what we want?
The
Fourth Truth — perhaps the most important one — is the path to that
release; the path by which we can actually experience that heart’s sure
relief from suffering, from dissatisfactoriness. That’s called
traditionally the Eightfold Noble Path. I like to call it the eight
principles of enlightened living or the eight steps to enlightenment. It
is divided into three sections: sila, samadhi, and prajna — ethics,
meditation, and wisdom, as discussed last week.
Those
are the Four Noble Truths. It is a complete description of how things
are; how to solve our problem, our suffering; and what the result is.
Again, this is just a description. We get to decide if that’s the path
for us. For example, let’s honestly ask ourselves: Is it even our
problem? Maybe we haven’t noticed that there is any problem. That’s
fine. We shouldn’t be in the doctor’s office if we’re not sick. We
shouldn’t be in the pharmacy looking at all the different medicines. We
should be out enjoying life. The Dalai Lama himself has said that
happiness is the purpose of life. So let’s see seek our highest, most
long-lasting happiness, not just cheap thrills.
However,
we are all at different stages. This is not a judgment; I don’t know who
is more evolved. However, why do we each hear the same thing
differently? I go around the world saying we are all Buddhas, and people
come out of the audience and say, “I love what you said Surya, but why
did you start your talk by saying we are all Buddhists. I’m a
Christian.” I say Buddha and she heard Buddhists; someone else hears I
don’t know what — voodoo maybe! Let us become Buddhas, rather than
Buddhists! America the Buddhafull!
We are
all flowers in a universal garden, in different stages, going in
different directions, having different shapes. We are all dealing with
different things. It’s like why sometimes we don’t feel anything, but
the next person feels something. Maybe we’re not tuned into the feeling
level; each of us has different realities going, different perceptions.
Water looks very different to you and me than to a fish, doesn’t it?
Since we
did come here tonight, we are probably looking for something, probably
we are seeking something deeper. We found out, probably — I’m looking
around the room; I see that we are mostly upper middle class, white
intellectuals — that we have everything, but that everything is never
quite enough. That’s the problem, isn’t it? Never quite enough for us.
So we are seeking something deeper. (Is this the Upper Middle Path?!)
Therefore, let’s genuinely look into things and see what is wrong, if
anything. Let’s see what the problems are, what the cause is, and how to
transcend it and be free. That’s what the Buddha’s path purports to
offer; but it remains up to us to confirm it for ourselves; otherwise it
is just a rumor. It is up to us to keep it alive. We are the ancestors
now; what we do will affect all coming generations.
I
personally have found that it is true, that it is very simple when you
get down to it, that greed, attachment, and resistance is
dissatisfying. Haven’t you? Look at our relationships. Selfishness,
egotism, and clinging don’t work very well. On the other hand, letting
go and being more spacious and gracious — open hands, open arms, open
heart and mind — actually works. This kind of more open, generous,
collaborative win-win approach goes a long way towards relieving a lot
of the tension; the stress, the friction generating all of this energy
of conflict and confusion, and, for that matter, illness. Look at your
own closest relationships, and see if this is not true. If we don’t
apply the Dharma teaching to our own lives and our own personal way of
thinking, it’s not Buddhadharma at all; it’s just a sham.
Now we
have covered the first three truths: suffering; its cause being
attachment; and letting go, nonattachment, which is its solution. This
simply leaves us with how to live that way, which is the path.
I see it
as a progression, from unhealthy attachments like addictions onto
attachment to positive things, like health, food, stress-reducing
exercises, meditation, and spirituality. But it has to get more and more
subtle, or else we get stuck at those places. As our enlightened mind
grows, it gets more subtle. A Zen teacher calls it the stink of
enlightenment — the last thing you get attached to is enlightenment.
That would be like golden shackles, rather than rusty, iron ones. Maybe
you should just raise your sights and get attached to higher and deeper
things, and trust that this sort of teaching leads beyond even itself.
As Buddha said, “Dharma is like a raft, to cross the raging river of
suffering.” All rafts may be left behind when we reach the other shore.
What
would be worthy of great attachment? You tell me. If you want to say
God, or something very high and ultimate, then I’ll say, “Good. Be
totally attached to that. But what is that? It is not a thing.” So
aspirations can get higher and higher, deeper and deeper. That would be
helpful. What attachment really is a pernicious cycle of demandingness,
resistance, clinging, holding on. It is hard to believe that those are
very helpful.
Of
course we are attached to our children. Of course we are attached to
sanity. We should be. Let’s use our common sense. That’s why when I say
the word “attachment,” I try to define it so we understand what we are
talking about — greed, rigidity, fixation, resistance, preoccupation,
clinging. Clinging doesn’t sound great, does it?
We’ve
talked about relinquishing attachment. Let’s talk about it in the
positive sense: Cultivating openness, spiritual detachment, equanimity.
Those are the positive sides of that. Spiritual detachment doesn’t mean
being indifferent. It means being more even and equal, and seeing the
big picture, having more perspective. You like some things, you don’t
like others, but you are not so invested in such preferences so that
there is more room for inner equanimity and balance. You don’t have a
tantrum if things don’t always work out as you would have liked. That’s
the positive side. It doesn’t mean you are complacent and indifferent,
that if you see a kid running out in the street, you wouldn’t even
bother to stop him. That’s insanity. This discussion about nonattachment
is not about indifference or complacency. It’s about equanimity and
balance, a bigger perspective, about learning to appreciate all things
and experiences — good and bad, pleasurable and painful, light and dark
— in their own way.
I will
reiterate that the cause of the dissatisfaction is holding on. When you
start to see how that works, then you start to see how letting go,
allowing, being more generous with yourself and others, tolerance, and
so on is very, very satisfying. It is a great relief. It just simply
works. Every day, every moment, it works. This is not some big
abstraction, some theological dogma. It’s not like at the end of your
life you get the jackpot of enlightenment, you get airlifted up. This
way of life works every moment. Even here in meditation, we are
replicating the whole macrocosm of our life and lifetimes in the
microcosm of this moment. When we can relax totally and just be and
allow everything and not have to do or accomplish or put together
anything, isn’t it a relief? Isn’t it restful, relaxing, holistically
satisfying? There’s no force, so it’s not tiring. There is no will and
no striving. Spontaneous joy and peace naturally bubble up. It is
inconceivable. There is no good reason for it to be so satisfying, but
it is.
Incessant attachment and greed erode our inner peace of mind. Better
offer yourself to everything. Surrender. Dance with life, no matter what
tune is being played. Why be a wallflower? Dance with life; you’ll love
it.
It is
really simple, when you come right down to it. That’s why I feel that
this is really a teaching for our time, a teaching that we can really
get our teeth into, that can really liberate and delight us all and help
us be a positive force in the world, not just a self-satisfied,
complacent, couch potato, or, should I say, meditation cushion potato?
It can help us really be a light in the world, which we are so much in
need of in these turbulent times.
There is
a way of being a very peaceful warrior, a warrior for peace. And out of
that heart of compassion can come forceful action, when necessary. Let
us foment a veritable lobby of compassion, a ground swell of responsible
and caring consensus, here in our own country.
Sometimes saying No is actually Yes, is very affirmative.
Trungpa Rinpoche used to say: “Don’t give in to idiot compassion.” For
example, you spoil your kids and they run out into the street and get
hit by a car. You pour honey on everybody’s head and you are always
smiling, because you want to be a New Age, love and light person. One of
my Tibetan friends said, “Why does everybody in America say ‘I love you’
before they hang up the phone, even if it’s the first time you ever
talked to them? I thought those words meant something!” So it is not so
simple. That’s why in tantric iconography there are the terrific,
wrathful deities as well as the peaceful, gentle, lamb-like, Jesus-like
deities. Even Jesus did his thing with the money-changers, driving them
out of the holy temple. That is ruthless compassion.
We all
have peaceful energies in us and also wrathful energies, which subdue or
transform what needs to be transformed. In the street at night, for
example, you might have to do something that looks very forceful, but
you should be doing it because it is appropriate and done out of love,
not out of aggression. When one is spacious, then there is space for
things to happen appropriately, impeccably even. Otherwise we just
transmit our compulsions, the children get spoiled, and the entire
mandala degenerates.
That’s
where awareness training comes in. Eventually, you don’t have to
remember it so avidly, it just comes more naturally. That’s why
we have a little incubator here, our little pressure cooker, our
practice center. It’s like a hothouse so we can try to train in a
special way. You need a greenhouse, a special environment, to cultivate
exotic orchids. But really, we ourselves are more like the grass and the
weeds; we have to exist everywhere, finally. We can recondition and
decondition ourselves intentionally, through continuous, intentional
training. Buddhism is a path of training the body, speech, and
heart/mind. We decondition our conditioning, which brings freedom, while
reconditioning in a more positive sense like through Bodhicitta
practice. It is not that we have to remember; it’s not just like having
to count to 10 before you hit back. The more we are aware, the more
naturally open is that space of counting; you don’t have to count.
You
might vividly feel the arising energy of anger or reaction, but it is
just an energy — you don’t have to act it out or suppress it. There are
a lot of techniques for that, like putting yourself in the other’s
shoes, exchanging yourself with others, wishing to take the difficulties
on yourself and give them the best part so you start to get out of this
adversarial situation. Using the energy of the opponent to turn the
situation over instead of just fighting back. Transforming negativity
into positivity. There are many skillful methods in Dharma for
accomplishing that. We ought to try them!
Ahimsa
means non-aggression, non-harming. Gandhi didn’t just say, “Oh, what the
hell” to the British when they exploited his country. He did something
about it in a very powerful way. He didn’t fight back with arms; he did
something different: He changed consciousness. He created a ground swell
of consensus against the British being there. He walked hundreds of
miles to the sea to collect salt by hand, to break the British
stranglehold of the salt tax. And all of India began to walk with him.
They didn’t have to go to the barricades and try to fight back with
their rusty old muskets and pitchforks, and all get wiped out. This
reminds us that there is another way to do things. That was a very
forceful act, a very effective warrior act, but a very peaceful warrior
action. The British could hardly fight back against 100,000,000 Indians.
If there had been any kind of a demonstration, they would have wiped
them out. But faced with that sort of passive resistance and
consciousness-raising, the British had to back down. They realized they
could imprison Gandhi’s body, but not his mind.