There were two paths leading from the
hermitage
down to the village.
Kalu Rinpoche
The one verbal action, however, that completely breaks the ordination is a lie regarding your attainment.
You might present yourself as someone who has deep realization, when you have not, or give extensive and profound teachings as though you understood Dharma, when you do not.
To confuse beings in this way is an extremely negative act, and the most serious kind of lie.
In the Buddha's words, to commit this kind of lie is a greater negative action than to kill all the beings in the universe, because you cause beings to deviate from the Path of Liberation, lead them to lower states of existence, prolong the time they spend
in samsara, and postpone their enlightenment. By lying about your attainment, you commit an action far worse than simply taking their lives. The third vow, therefore, commits us to avoid untruthful speech as much as possible and, especially, not to lie about our at- tainment.
In a monk's, nun's or celibate layperson's ordination, the fourth vow is to avoid all sexual activity. People are very attached to and concerned about sexual activity and take it to be a kind of bliss. Perhaps this is true on a relative level, but the ultimate state of bliss, of stable and permanent happiness, is incomparably beyond sexual experience; and, in a certain sense, sexual activity keeps you from this realization.
Vajrayana physiology describes the creative energy of the body as white ti'g le and red ti'g le [thig le] which are intimately connected with the experience of orgasm. If their potential is lost during sexual activity, this causes a state of discomfort or unease in body and mind that prevents us from achieving a stable state of bliss.
Celibacy is not abnormal repression or great hardship. On the contrary, it contributes to the achievement of true and stable hap- piness. The Buddha said that ordinary people take sexual enjoy- ment as the pinnacle of human happiness. But that kind of bliss only produces a certain sense of unease and discomfort in mind and body, because it can never be complete. This unfortunate state is like that of a old dog gnawing on a bone: the dog has no teeth to chew with and the hard bone actually cuts his gums; but he tastes the blood, and thinks, "Oh, this is delicious. I want to eat even more. " So he continues chewing and chewing, not realizing that the delicious taste comes from his own blood. He gnaws the bone with bleeding gums and makes the wounds deeper and deeper; eventual- ly, they become infected and tum into sores. What the dogs takes as ultimate happiness becomes pain.
In general, the problem with sexual attachment is perhaps not so much sexual activity in itself, but the fact that it leads to other things that are even more negative. For example, if a man and a woman are very attached to each other, and if the woman is at- tracted by another man, jealousy, anger, and obsession immediately arise in her lover's mind. As long as there is attachment, such emo- tions are present, like servants who follow a master. The point is that desire leads to many things that are far more negative and detrimen- tal to your religious progress. The other problem, of course, is that when people have sexual relations they very often have children, and then find themselves completely involved in raising them, leaving much less time for Dharma practice. With the practical aims of
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78 The Dharma
simplifying your life, therefore, a celibate ordination is considered important for intensive practice.
In general, our emotions are such that the more we indulge them, the more we need to; the more we pay attention to them, the more inexhaustible they become. There is, however, a solution: we can simply cut off attachment and say, "Finished. " We should ap- proach the vow of celibacy with the attitude that sexual activity is no longer a part of our lives. There will be no difficulty as long as we have that total commitment. But as long as we pay attention to the emotions and indulge in them, they will continue to arise inex- haustibly.
After ordination, monks, nuns, and celibate laypersons should avoid any kind of frivolity- games, movies, television, danc- ing or singing. We may ask, "What's the harm in them? What's the benefit of giving them up? " First of all, they waste a good deal of time and promote various other activities which distract from prac- tice. Secondly, they actually contribute to increasing the emotions. For example. while we are watching television, we are not practicing Dharma. Furthermore, what we see usually stimulates and en- courages emotional responses, and thus works against the purpose of our ordination.
The fifth vow concerns the use of intoxicants, specifically alcohol, which obstructs the mental clarity that is so important in meditation, particularly for someone who is practicing the Vaj- rayana. In this tradition, it is said that if one is engaged in tantric practice, the loss of clarity through alcohol sows the seeds for rebirth in hell.
Alcohol is often referred to as the root of other problems. A traditional story tells of a pure and disciplined monk who went out one day to beg for food. He came to the door of a house where a woman invited him in for the noonday meal. Once she had him in the house, she locked the door and pointed to a goat standing in the corner of the main room and to a bottle of alcohol on the table. "You can either kill that goat, make love to me, or drink that alcohol," she said. "Unless you do one of the three, I won't let you out of this house. " The monk thought to himself, "I'm an ordained monk. I can't make love to the woman. I can't kill an animal volun- tarily, for I can't take life. I'm not supposed to drink, but it seems to
be the least harmful of the actions. " So saying, "I'll drink the alcohol," he downed the bottle. Becoming thoroughly intoxicated and consequently sexually aroused, he made love to the woman, became hungry, and killed the goat for food. In this way intoxica- tion leads to many other things which can be more negative than the simple fact of intoxication itself.
Implicitly rejected in the fifth vow are also all kinds of drugs such as marijuana. The actual wording proscribes the use of fermented liquor, distilled liquor, and anything that intoxicates; it seems fairly obvious that something like marijuana intoxicates the mind. Some people think it produces a kind of bliss, and that may be true in an extremely brief and limited way, but basically it makes people stupid and lazy. They spend a lot of money for no purpose and get little done either in their worldly work or in Dharma prac- tice. Eventually, they become very unhappy mentally and encounter many physical problems too. In short, marijuana robs the mind of clarity, causing it to wander and become distracted-a situation that is most detrimental to the development of effective meditation.
Tobacco, too, has a very detrimental effect on the body and mind. Padmasambhava, and many of the Nyingmapa ter tons [gter ston] who discovered his concealed teachings, were unanimous in saying that substances that are smoked contribute to lower states of rebinh-even when the smoke touches the body of someone not ac- tually smoking. So if you have taken the vow to abandon intox- icants, you should avoid the use of alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, and all drugs that cloud the reason or otherwise impair the functioning of mind and body. For someone who doesn't have formal ordina- tion, to avoid the use of intoxicants as much as possible is in itself a step forward. To be able to do without all these distractions, and concentrate our efforts on Dharma practice is a wonderful thing.
In the Buddha's teachings, we often find reference to the im- portance of moral discipline. "Morality is like the eanh. It supports everything, animate and inanimate. It is the foundation of all positive qualities. " Having moral discipline, another text says, we engage in study and contemplation of the teachings in order to enter into the effective practice of meditation. Some level of discipline is absolutely essential for our practice to be effective.
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That doesn't mean that people who lack a high degree of discipline should feel discouraged or think, "I'm useless, I can't do anything. Without ordination I'm hopeless. " That is not the point. Even for an ordinary person without formal ordination, the most imponant thing is to deal with life in as sensible a way as possible, so that we do not give rise to a great deal of anger, aggression, clinging, or greed. This is the crucial point.
For those who have taken ordination, another critical point is to guard against pride. Whether it is based upon your ordained status or on your erudition and intellectual understanding, pride goes against the purpose of practice and destroys its benefits. To think, "I'm a monk. I'm special, these people aren't. They're lower than I am," is an attitude completely contrary to the spirit of the or- dination. It destroys the vinues you would otherwise develop by following the ordained way of life.
If you are quite intelligent, and your learning causes ar- rogance, you may think, "I'm superior to these simpletons. They don't understand as much as I do. " Such intellectual pride runs con- trary to a true understanding of Dharma, and, in fact, destroys much of the benefit of your practice. The Buddha compared pride to a hard rock on which drops of water can make no impression. These drops represent the positive qualities you develop through practice. If your pride has solidified to this extent, then there is no way for positive qualities to penetrate. Much the same thing hap- pens if we regard Dharma simply as an intellectual pastime. If we merely accumulate information without practicing or experiencing what we have learned, our faith and compassion will diminish. We then become very indifferent to the teachings and think, "I've heard that before. I understand that already. " If we persist in this callous attitude, we reach a state where we cannot be helped. We have cut ourselves off from all possibility of being rescued from our stupidity. The Buddha said that even the greatest evil-doer can be saved, but a person who has become apathetic towards the Dharma cannot be helped, because such a mind has become petrified and closed to the teachings. On the other hand, a Bodhisattva has gained a complete understanding of all aspects of Dharma as presented in the Sutras, the Vinaya (discipline), the Abhidharma, and so forth. In all
descriptions of the Bodhisattva, however, there is never any reference to pride. Pride and realization are mutually exclusive.
When opportunities to practice Dharma occur, you should know that they arise from previous merit and that they afford a chance for you to accumulate further merit and develop awareness, and thus help other beings. You should also understand that it is because of the blessing of your Lama and the Three jewels that you have such opportunities.
The focus of this teaching is to encourage people who are in a favorable situation, and not to discourage those who are not. There is no need to feel, ''I'm only a layperson, just a householder (chim pa [khyim pa]). I haven't taken any vows, so I can't get enlightened. I'm hopeless. " The point is to be encouraged to concentrate on what you do have, because at the very least you have the Seed of Bud- dhahood. You have the precious human birth, which provides the opportunity and the leisure to realize fully this inherent potential. You have met with the teachings of Dharma and, in particular, the teachings of the Vajrayana, which give you the means to realize the Enlightened Mind. Everything depends upon understanding what you have, recognizing the blessings of the situation, and then mak- ing diligent, intelligent use of them. This is the way to approach Enlightenment.
Is this to say that there is no difference between someone who holds ordination and someone who doesn't? No. There is a dif- ference, which can be explained in the following way. Suppose there are two houses filled with identical treasure, exactly the same, ex- cept that one has a single door which is firmly bolted, and the other has many doors, all wide open. The house with the one door firmly bolted is in little danger of thieves, but the house with many open doors is always in danger of losing its precious contents. This is the difference between someone who has a formal discipline and lives up to it and someone who has not. Commitment to discipline through ordination gives the means to guard against faults and the loss of the benefits of Dharma practice. Without this formal commitment, one must have great diligence and intelligence, since the danger that mistakes will occur and benefits be lost is always present.
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82 The Dharma Questions and Answers
Q. UESTION: Some people are reluctant to take vows because they are afraid they may inadvenently break them, and then be in a worse situation than if they had never taken the vows. For example, a person might accidentally step on an insect.
ANSWER: Any act of killing breaks the vow, but the only act of kill- ing that destroys the ordination is the willful murder of a human be- ing. Even inadvertent killing would not break the vow completely. Aside from homicide, any other act of killing, intentional or not, is an infraction of the vow. In any case, killing is a negative act, whether or not you have taken the vow. You do not escape the con- sequences of even inadvertent killing and a certain element of bad karma is still involved. The purpose of the vow is to make a definite commitment to avoid killing.
Four considerations determine the gravity of any action. The four considerations are the object of the action, the intention, the act itself, and the completion of that act. In the case of killing, there is the person being killed, the intent to kill, the act of killing, and an actual death. These four elements must be present for the vow to be completely broken. If only three are present, the act is less serious. If there are only two or one, the repercussions diminish accordingly.
In the case of killing an insect, for example, there is initially the perception of the object, the thought "That is an insect, a living thing. It has consciousness. " Second is the motivation. One thinks, "I want to kill it. " The third stage is actually to kill it. And the fourth is that the insect dies and one thinks, "Ah, good, it's dead. " That completes the action. This act of taking a life is serious because all four elements are present; that makes it a conscious act and fully carried out.
Q. UESTION: There are people who don't take vows but behave in accord with them, and other people who take the vows and keep them. Is there a difference?
ANSWER: There is a difference in the power of the virtue and merit accumulated by someone who is following a discipline without vows and someone who has actually taken formal ordination, because the latter has done so with a conscious intention and in the presence of their teacher and the Three jewels. This adds an element of power
to the situation that can be extremely effective. The difference is between natural virtue and deliberate virtue, which involves the conscious practice of a certain conduct. While the virtue of someone without ordination and someone with ordination, both living a good life, is more or less the same, what seems to be different is the degree of strength, real stability, and power to practice.
QUESTION: How can we develop discipline?
ANSWER: T o develop a disciplined way of life, you need to look at your own situation. If you are a monk or a nun, a discipline is clearly defined, but for an ordinary person some examination is necessary. You need to look at the way you are living, and, when you realize that certain acts, killing for example, are negative, you no longer want to do them. At this point you are your own witness, and ab- staining from a particular negative action like killing or stealing gives a great deal of benefit. If you do not feel you can be celibate, you can at least be faithful in your relationship, not deceiving or harming the other person. You make your own decisions and are your own witness for that kind of commitment. On the other hand, someone who has taken formal ordination has the best witnesses-the Three Jewels and the Lama; they make any action more powerful.
QUESTION: When I am taking a vow I get very nervous. I am afraid I will break it, and the presence of witnesses makes the whole thing even more unnerving.
ANSWER: It is not bad to feel nervous, because it means that you recognize you're undertaking something significant in the presence of an important witness. There is a sense of power and reality in the situation; it may frighten you, but it's not bad. It means you perhaps do not thoroughly understand the nature of what is going on, but at least you have some idea of the significance of the commitment. Still, if you feel that it would be detrimental at this time to under- take any formal commitment now, that does not mean that your own personal commitment isn't good enough. Human rebirth comes about as result of discipline, and discipline is not just a monk's or nun's vows: discipline is a certain commitment, whether by yourself or through formal ordination, to a way of life that pursues certain kinds of activity and avoids others. Perhaps in the present cir-
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cumstances it would be better for you to avoid committing yourself to something that makes you nervous. Whether it is in the context of formal ordination or not, a vow is still effective and your own per- sonal commitment to vows like not killing, lying or stealing, is im- portant and very beneficial.
QUESTION: I have an extreme problem with discipline and an organized way of life. I'm afraid of the methods you describe, because I know they go against my own nature. On the other hand, I think I am sincerely open to the teaching. How can I keep on being open to the teaching, even when the idea of discipline is so distasteful?
ANSWER: That is the purpose of the Four Contemplations that Turn the Mind towards Dharma practice: they automatically give rise to commitment. Instead of trying to force the commitment, you simply meditate in such a way that commitment becomes the only choice open to you. Given the situation we are in, how else could we behave except to have this commitment? Having seen things clearly, commitment tends to develop by itself. Perhaps a story will illustrate this point.
During the lifetime of Buddha Shakyamuni, there was a young man who was one of the Buddha's cousins. His name was Chungawo [gCung dGa bo]. Chungawo was married to a very beautiful woman. They were extremely happy together, but overly attached to each other. They simply could not bear to be out of each other's presence: wherever they went and whatever they did, they were always together. One day the Buddha saw that his cousin was ripe for training, so he went on his begging rounds as usual, holding his bowl, and stood in the road before the gate of his cousin's house waiting to receive anything he might be offered.
Chungawo had great faith, and when he saw the Buddha stand- ing there, he said to his wife, despite his extreme attachment to her, "I must go and make an offering to the Buddha. "
As he was going out the door, his wife grabbed him and said, "Where are you going? Don't leave me. " and he said, "No, I'm just going down to the end of the road. The Buddha's there. I'm going to offer him some food and I'll come right back. " She reluctantly
agreed, but taking part of the hem of her dress, she licked it and said, "I want you back before that's dry. "
Chungawo said, "Yes," and went out to make his offering. When he had filled the Buddha's bowl, the Buddha handed it back to him and said, "Here, you carry this," and started walking away slowly down the path. Chungawo was torn for a moment because he longed to get back to his wife, but simply could not ignore the in- struction of someone like the Buddha, so he began following him. The Buddha led him along a road up into the forest, to the place where he was staying, a small hermitage with a shrine. All along the road Chungawo could think of nothing but his wife, yet he was aware of his obligation to carry the Buddha's bowl, and at least hand it to him before he could run back home.
When they got to the hermitage the Buddha said, "Put the bowl down there. I'm leaving for a while, you stay here while I'm gone, and maybe sweep up a little. It's dusty, and there's a broom. " Chungawo was in a quandary; a long time had already passed, it was getting later and later, and he wanted nothing more than to be back with his wife. But once again he felt some obligation to the Buddha, so he began to sweep as quickly as he could to get all the dirt out of the door so he could run down the road to his wife. But the more he swept the dirtier things seemed to get. As soon as he thought he had cleaned it all, he turned around and there was more dirt and dust on the floor than ever. So he started sweeping again, and again the dirt grew. This happened a number of times and finally he gave up, threw down the broom, and walked out of the hermitage.
There were two paths leading from the hermitage down to the village. One was the main broad path up which he had come with the Buddha and the other was an overgrown back path which wound down the hill. Chungawo thought, "I'll take the back path. I won't run into anybody and I'll get home as quickly as possible. " But as he was going down this path, who should he see coming towards him but the Buddha. He thought, "I can't let him see me here," and ducked underneath a nearby bush. The branches of this bush hung down by the side of the road and formed a sort of little cave, into
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86 The Dharma
which Chungawo crawled, hoping to hide from the Buddha's gaze. But as the Buddha came up the path, the branches simply lifted up and there was Chungawo, crouching on the ground. The Buddha said, "What are you doing? Come with me. " He took him back up the hill, and once again Chungawo found himself being led away from his wife and towards the hermitage.
This went on for days, as the Buddha continually found ways to keep him from returning home. Finally there came a point when Chungawo insisted that he simply couldn't stay any longer. So the Buddha said, "Well, all right, but just before you go, let me show you something. Take hold of my robe. " Chungawo had no choice but to take hold of the Buddha's robes. All of a sudden he was flying through the air and then found himself on top of a high mountain, surveying a magnificent view in all directions.
While he and the Buddha were there enjoying the scenery, a very decrepit, wizened old woman approached them. The Buddha called Chungawo's attention to her and said, "Who is more beautiful, your wife or this old woman? " Chungawo exclaimed, "What do you mean? My wife is a hundred, no, a thousand times more beautiful than this old woman. " The Buddha just said, "Let's go to the god realms. Take hold of my robes. "
Chungawo did so, and immediately found himself in the god realms, a splendid environment of celestial palaces, with gods and goddesses enjoying sensual pastimes. Everything was so blissful that Chungawo was quite distracted from thoughts of his wife. Finally, after showing him the god realms, the Buddha took Chungawo to a palace inhabited by five hundred beautiful goddesses, where a cen- tral throne stood vacant. Then the Buddha said to Chungawo, "Who is more beautiful, your wife or these goddesses? " Chungawo said, "These goddesses are a thousand times more beautiful than my wife. " And the Buddha said, "Find out what's going on here. " Chungawo approached one of the goddesses, and said, "Why is there no one on the central throne? " She replied, "There's no one to occupy it just yet. A human named Chungawo is thinking about tak- ing ordination. He will become a monk and practice Dharma very strenuously. The virtue he accumulates will earn him a rebirth in this god realm. This is the seat he will occupy. "
Chungawo went back to the Buddha as quickly as he could and said, "Could I take ordination now? " The Buddha said, "That would be fine. " They returned to the human realm and the Buddha bestowed the vows of a fully ordained monk upon Chungawo, who became a member of the Buddhist community and began practicing diligently.
One day the Buddha called all his monks together and said, "All my disciples are very good monks. You are all dedicated to at? taining complete Enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. Except one, Chungawo-the only reason he keeps his vows is to gain rebirth in the god realms, where he wants to enjoy worldly pleasure. You should have nothing to do with him. I don't want you to talk to him, or share a seat with him. Ignore him completely. "
Now Chungawo was doing his best to be a very pure, disci? plined monk, a good disciple of the Buddha. His memory of the goddesses had made him forget all about his wife, and he was busy trying to keep his vows as well as he could. Suddenly he discovered he was being ostracized. Nobody would speak to him. As soon as he spoke, people turned their backs and walked away. They would neither sit with him nor eat with him, and he became extremely depressed. Finally, he went to the Buddha and said, "What's wrong with me? Why does everyone ignore me? "
The Buddha said, "Don't worry, let's go visit the hell realms this time. Take hold of my robe. " Chungawo did so and they soon arrived. The Buddha took him through one of the hells, where they saw beings burned, boiled, sawn in half or undergoing other tor? tures as a result of previous karma, and then they came to a vast pot full of molten metal. Fiendish-looking beings were stirring the pot, although no one was actually in it. So Chungawo went up to one of them and said, "Why are there beings in all the other pots, but this one is empty? " And the fiend said, "There is a monk named Chungawo, who thinks he is keeping his displine very purely. That merit will earn him rebinh in the god realms, but once that's ex? hausted, this is going to be his home. " Chungawo became extremely frightened and the Buddha took him back to the human realm.
At that point, Chungawo realized that any concern with the world was pointless, and that he should really be completely focused
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on attaining enlightenment. He became a very accomplished meditator who was noted for his ability to absorb himself completely in meditation, to rest his mind one-pointedly without any sensory distraction.
The point of the story is that by understanding death and im- permanence, the sufferings of samsara and the karmic process, you spontaneously discover a commitment to pure Dharma practice.
Ordination, which helps to cut off certain activities that are harmful to oneself and others, is one way of dealing with the emo- tions, and a very effective one. But not everyone has to take ordina- tion; indeed, it is very difficult for most people to undertake something as drastic as monastic ordination, where one leaves one's family and so forth, and becomes a monk or a nun. It is not possible or practical for most people, and they should not feel that ordina- tion is absolutely necessary: there are other ways of dealing with the emotions. Thanks to the kindness and blessings of the Buddha, we have instructions regarding Bodhicitta, the love and compassion for all other beings. There are also ways of skillfully transmuting the emotions without having to cut them off or suppress them. So one does not have to sever connections with family and friends.
The last words the Buddha spoke before he passed into Nirvana were: "I have shown you the way to Liberation. Actually achieving it is up to you. " The teacher can show the way to Liberation, but we have to experience it for ourselves. The path of Bodhicitta is open to all of us.
QUESTION: How is the merit of virtuous action lost?
ANSWER: The causes of losing merit and the benefits of our prac- tice fall into three principal categories. The first is pride in what we have accomplished. It is detrimental to think, ''I'm a wonderful per- son to have been so virtuous and accumulated this merit. I must be quite special. " A second way of impairing the effectiveness of merit involves regret, for example, following an act of generosity with the thought, "Oh, I shouldn't have given all that away, that was stupid. " The third way is through anger. Giving rise to very strong malevolent emotions destroys or impairs the merit of virtuous prac- tice. We guard against this loss by sharing the merit. As long as merit remains our own, it may be destroyed, but once we have
sincerely and without attachment shared it with everyone, it cannot be impaired even in these three ways. Through the simple act of sharing we guard against all these negative emotions.
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7
Women, Siddhi, Dharma
Women and men, children and adults, all share, to some extent, the opponunities and freedoms of our human condi- tion (see Glossary, "Precious Human Binh"). By contrast, animals and those in other states of existence lack these opponunities and freedoms. The distinction between human and beast-wild car- nivores living in the jungles, deep sea creatures or insect life-is made precisely on the basis of this opponunity to practice the Dharma.
Even among human binhs, there is a tremendous variety in our capacities to recognize and use this opponunity. The most excellent kind of human binh is called precious; in it, a person can make meaningful use of his or her life. This has nothing to do with social standing or any of the ordinary ways in which we judge people; it cenainly makes no difference, for example, whether one is a woman or man: the only question is whether or not the advantages of a human rebinh are appreciated and employed.
Regardless of whether you are a man or a woman, regardless of your particular situation in this life, if you have faith, confidence, and diligence, if you have compassion and wisdom, you can become enlightened. I f you are merely caught up in your emotional confu-
92 The Dharma
sion and continue to let that dominate your life, no matter whether you are a man or a woman, Enlightenment will be difficult to attain. But if you have the necessary qualities for Dharma practice, the kind of body you have makes no difference at all.
The Ultimate Nature of Mind is Neither Male nor Female
The reason for this total equality of opportunity is the nature of mind itself, which is neither male nor female. There is no such thing as the intrinsic nature of one person's mind being better than some- one else's; on the ultimate level the empty, clear and unimpeded nature of mind exhibits no limiting qualities such as maleness or femaleness, superiority or inferiority. On the worldly level, of course, there are situations in which one person's mind suffers more obscurations than another's. This has more to do with karma than with gender or social standing. Even in the various realms ofrebirth, there is no ultimate difference between one mind and another. The profound teachings of the Buddhadharma provide ways to eliminate obscurations and arrive at a direct experience of mind.
On a relative level, however, there are differences, including the way in which the physical embodiment is formed at the subtle level of energy channels and energy centers. According to the teachings of tantra, the way in which a mind incarnates in a male body is subtly different from the way in which it incarnates in a female body. In the psycho-physical make-up of a male, there is more force, more concentrated and direct energy, whereas in that of a female there is more spaciousness, signifying Wisdom. These relative differences should always be understood in the context of the ultimate nature of mind.
If in studying and practicing the Buddha's teachings, women understand what is being said, they will attain Enlightenment. If men understand, they will attain Enlightenment.
In the Vajrayana tradition, the lives of the Mahasiddhas of Buddhist India represent models of Dharma practice. Among these are men such as Tilopa and Naropa and women such as Sukasiddhi and Niguma whose Enlightenment came about because they made
the fullest possible use of a human birth, not because they were in a particular kind of body.
Tara, the Protector
One great Bodhisattva, however, is always associated with the female form. This is Tara, the Liberator. Of her origin, this story is told.
Many millions of years in the past, there was a certain universe in which lived a princess, a young woman who was the daughter of the king of the realm. Her name was Yeshe Dawa [ye shes zla ba], which means "Moon of Primordial Awareness. " And at that time in that world there was a Buddha whose name was Tonyo Drupa [don yod grub pa]. The princess developed a great faith in this Buddha and received teachings from him. In particular she received instruc- tions in generating Bodhicitta, the compassionate concern for all other beings. The special vow the princess made was that until she achieved Enlightenment she would continue to incarnate as a woman, always taking a female form to benefit beings through her Buddha activity. Having made this initial vow, through her Bodhicitta, she donned the armor of this commitment. Overcoming all obstacles, she worked courageously to accumulate merit, to deepen her awareness, and to make herself more effective in helping sentient beings liberate themselves from confusion.
When teaching the root tantra associated with Tara, the Bud? dha praised this great Bodhisattva: "Tara is she who frees and pro? tects beings from all possible fears and sufferings that they can en- counter. Tara is she who closes the doors to the lower realms ofex- istence. Tara is she who leads them on the path to higher states of being. " With these words, the Buddha extolled the virtue of Tara in granting us protection and deliverance from all the fears that are part of the human condition.
Another way of conceiving of Tara is as an emanation of Chenrezi, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. At one time, Chenrezi, viewing the suffering of all beings throughout the world, was so moved that he shed two tears; the tear that fell from his right eye
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94 The Dharma
turned into the green form of the Bodhisattva Tara, and the tear from the left eye became the white form.
Machik Drupay Gyalmo and Tipupa
Amitayus is the Buddha of Immortality. One great Siddha noted for her practice of Amitayus was a woman called Machik Drupay Gyalmo [rna gcig grub pa'i rgyal mo]. She meditated upon this deity and attained not only Enlightenment, the ultimate goal of such practice, but also the more mundane accomplishment of pro? longing her life. Tradition has it that she lived five hundred years through her practice of Amitayus.
While Machik Drupay Gyalmo was still alive and teaching in India, there flourished another celebrated teacher, Tipupa. His in? teresting history goes back to southern Tibet in the area of Lodrak where Marpa the Translator lived. Marpa had a number of sons: to the eldest, Tarma Doday [dar rna mdo sde], Marpa intended to pass on his transmission. Marpa was thwarted by the untimely death of Tarma Doday, who was thrown from his horse and suffered a fatal concussion. Before the young man died, however, he was able to make use of a technique his father had taught him: he was able to transfer his consciousness, not from the physical body to a state of enlightened awareness, but into another physical body, a corpse. The practice required that the body, whether human or not, have only recently died and be fit to receive life. The mind of the dying person could then be projected into that corpse and reanimate it to carry on life as before.
The problem, of course, is that a new corpse is not always easy to find. When Marpa's son died, the whole area was searched and all that could be found was a dead pigeon. Someone had seen it struck by a hawk in the air and knocked out of the sky; it was dead when it fell to the ground. So he picked up the warm corpse of the pigeon and went running back to Marpa. They placed the pigeon on Tarma Doday's breast, and as his body began to die, the pigeon came to life, shaking its feathers and sitting up.
Marpa kept the pigeon for several days, feeding it well, and taking good care of it. While he was meditating, he realized what needed to be done. Marpa told his son, now incarnate as the pigeon,
about a charnel ground in India. Having been there himself, Marpa knew the directions and outlined the way very clearly. Marpa lived near the southern border of Tibet, where the journey to India is relatively short through the low passes over the Himalayas. "Fly to India," he said, "and find this charnel ground. The cremation of a young man is about to take place. You will be able to transfer your consciousness from the pigeon's body to his, and thus experience human existence again. " Then he let the pigeon go. It circled three times around Marpa and his wife, and flew off south.
When the bird reached India, it found the funeral procession, led by a Brahmin couple whose fifteen-yer-old son, bright and full of promise, had contracted an infectious disease and suddenly died. As the mourners laid the corpse out for cremation, the pigeon land- ed on the head, and immediately fell over dead. Right then the boy began to wake and move again. At first the onlookers thought a ghoul had taken possession of the corpse and ran away in fright. But the boy was able to speak to them, and soon convinced the brahmin family that their son had indeed come back to life, and without the help of demons.
In time this boy grew up to become a famous Buddhist meditator and teacher. Because of the pigeon that landed on his corpse, people called him Tipupa, meaning "Pigeon Boy," but his personal name was Trimay Shenyen [dri med bshes gnyen] which means "undefiled spiritual friend. "
Tipupa was still alive and teaching in India when Milarepa's student Rechungpa [ras chung pa] decided to go there to seek out teachings the lineage had not yet received. He met and studied with Tipupa, and one day was going through a bazaar when someone ap- proached him out of nowhere and said, "Well, if it isn't the young Tibetan yogin. You're in a lot of trouble. You have only seven days to live. Such a pity! " and then disappeared. Rechungpa was shocked, and wondered if the omen was genuine. He hurried to his teacher, Tipupa, who said, "It appears that this was an accurate prediction. A big obstacle to your life is coming, and unless you can deal with it skillfully, you will die. The most effective thing I can recommend is for you to go to see the woman teacher who is very skillful at transmitting the practice of Amitayus, the practice of im- mortality and longevity. "
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The woman was Machik Drupay Gyalmo. She was called Machik, "one mother" or "only mother," since she was maternally affectionate towards her students, who came to regard her as a mother. Drupay Gyalmo means "Queen of Siddhas. " Tipupa sent Rechungpa to take teachings from her; by receiving the Amitayus empowerment and practice, Rechungpa was able to forestall the threat to his life. Through his connection with Machik, he received the teachings he would bring back to Tibet, where they entered into all the lineages of Tibetan Buddhism, especially the mainstream of the Kagyii school. To this day we find reference to the Longevity Empowerment of the Queen of Siddhas.
Gelongma Palmo
During the early development of Buddhism in India, before its transmission to other countries like Tibet, there lived a princess, daughter of an Indian king, an unusually beautiful and intelligent girl, a most promising heir to the kingdom. At a certain point in her youth, however, she contracted a particularly virulent form of a disease resembling leprosy. Open sores began to cover her entire body and her flesh started to fester. As terrible as this was, doctors could find no cure. Gradually it became obvious that she was becoming a dangerous source of contagion and, as the disease pro- gressed, she became disgusting to see. So cutting off all ties with her life as a princess, she left the palace and went into a forest her- mitage. She took the vows of a nun in order to devote the last years of her life to intense Dharma practice.
During this time, she met a teacher who became very fond of her and was deeply moved by her situation. This teacher gave her the empowerment and the instruction for meditation on the eleven- faced, thousand-armed form of Chenrezi. For several years this was her main practice. During this time her disease got worse and worse; her extremities began to rot away, and her whole body was so com- pletely covered with open sores that she couldn't even sleep at night; she was in extreme pain and dying. Then, in the semi-waking state that was her fitful way of sleeping, she had a dream, or vision: the impression that somebody dressed in brilliant white came into her room with a large vase filled with pure water and poured it all over her body. She felt that the disease was being shed like the skin of a
snake, and that her body was being made whole again. When she woke up, she found her body renewed, as though nothing had ever troubled it. There was no sign of disease. Instantly she was filled with intense devotion and the conviction that her cure was due to the blessings of Chenrezi. At that moment she began to pray and meditate, and was blessed with a direct vision of the Bodhisattva, who dissolved into her. With this experience she attained a very high state of Realization and the direct experience of the nature of her mind.
The nun's name was Palmo [dpal mo], which means Lady of Glory, and she is known to the tradition as Gelongma Palmo.
in samsara, and postpone their enlightenment. By lying about your attainment, you commit an action far worse than simply taking their lives. The third vow, therefore, commits us to avoid untruthful speech as much as possible and, especially, not to lie about our at- tainment.
In a monk's, nun's or celibate layperson's ordination, the fourth vow is to avoid all sexual activity. People are very attached to and concerned about sexual activity and take it to be a kind of bliss. Perhaps this is true on a relative level, but the ultimate state of bliss, of stable and permanent happiness, is incomparably beyond sexual experience; and, in a certain sense, sexual activity keeps you from this realization.
Vajrayana physiology describes the creative energy of the body as white ti'g le and red ti'g le [thig le] which are intimately connected with the experience of orgasm. If their potential is lost during sexual activity, this causes a state of discomfort or unease in body and mind that prevents us from achieving a stable state of bliss.
Celibacy is not abnormal repression or great hardship. On the contrary, it contributes to the achievement of true and stable hap- piness. The Buddha said that ordinary people take sexual enjoy- ment as the pinnacle of human happiness. But that kind of bliss only produces a certain sense of unease and discomfort in mind and body, because it can never be complete. This unfortunate state is like that of a old dog gnawing on a bone: the dog has no teeth to chew with and the hard bone actually cuts his gums; but he tastes the blood, and thinks, "Oh, this is delicious. I want to eat even more. " So he continues chewing and chewing, not realizing that the delicious taste comes from his own blood. He gnaws the bone with bleeding gums and makes the wounds deeper and deeper; eventual- ly, they become infected and tum into sores. What the dogs takes as ultimate happiness becomes pain.
In general, the problem with sexual attachment is perhaps not so much sexual activity in itself, but the fact that it leads to other things that are even more negative. For example, if a man and a woman are very attached to each other, and if the woman is at- tracted by another man, jealousy, anger, and obsession immediately arise in her lover's mind. As long as there is attachment, such emo- tions are present, like servants who follow a master. The point is that desire leads to many things that are far more negative and detrimen- tal to your religious progress. The other problem, of course, is that when people have sexual relations they very often have children, and then find themselves completely involved in raising them, leaving much less time for Dharma practice. With the practical aims of
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simplifying your life, therefore, a celibate ordination is considered important for intensive practice.
In general, our emotions are such that the more we indulge them, the more we need to; the more we pay attention to them, the more inexhaustible they become. There is, however, a solution: we can simply cut off attachment and say, "Finished. " We should ap- proach the vow of celibacy with the attitude that sexual activity is no longer a part of our lives. There will be no difficulty as long as we have that total commitment. But as long as we pay attention to the emotions and indulge in them, they will continue to arise inex- haustibly.
After ordination, monks, nuns, and celibate laypersons should avoid any kind of frivolity- games, movies, television, danc- ing or singing. We may ask, "What's the harm in them? What's the benefit of giving them up? " First of all, they waste a good deal of time and promote various other activities which distract from prac- tice. Secondly, they actually contribute to increasing the emotions. For example. while we are watching television, we are not practicing Dharma. Furthermore, what we see usually stimulates and en- courages emotional responses, and thus works against the purpose of our ordination.
The fifth vow concerns the use of intoxicants, specifically alcohol, which obstructs the mental clarity that is so important in meditation, particularly for someone who is practicing the Vaj- rayana. In this tradition, it is said that if one is engaged in tantric practice, the loss of clarity through alcohol sows the seeds for rebirth in hell.
Alcohol is often referred to as the root of other problems. A traditional story tells of a pure and disciplined monk who went out one day to beg for food. He came to the door of a house where a woman invited him in for the noonday meal. Once she had him in the house, she locked the door and pointed to a goat standing in the corner of the main room and to a bottle of alcohol on the table. "You can either kill that goat, make love to me, or drink that alcohol," she said. "Unless you do one of the three, I won't let you out of this house. " The monk thought to himself, "I'm an ordained monk. I can't make love to the woman. I can't kill an animal volun- tarily, for I can't take life. I'm not supposed to drink, but it seems to
be the least harmful of the actions. " So saying, "I'll drink the alcohol," he downed the bottle. Becoming thoroughly intoxicated and consequently sexually aroused, he made love to the woman, became hungry, and killed the goat for food. In this way intoxica- tion leads to many other things which can be more negative than the simple fact of intoxication itself.
Implicitly rejected in the fifth vow are also all kinds of drugs such as marijuana. The actual wording proscribes the use of fermented liquor, distilled liquor, and anything that intoxicates; it seems fairly obvious that something like marijuana intoxicates the mind. Some people think it produces a kind of bliss, and that may be true in an extremely brief and limited way, but basically it makes people stupid and lazy. They spend a lot of money for no purpose and get little done either in their worldly work or in Dharma prac- tice. Eventually, they become very unhappy mentally and encounter many physical problems too. In short, marijuana robs the mind of clarity, causing it to wander and become distracted-a situation that is most detrimental to the development of effective meditation.
Tobacco, too, has a very detrimental effect on the body and mind. Padmasambhava, and many of the Nyingmapa ter tons [gter ston] who discovered his concealed teachings, were unanimous in saying that substances that are smoked contribute to lower states of rebinh-even when the smoke touches the body of someone not ac- tually smoking. So if you have taken the vow to abandon intox- icants, you should avoid the use of alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, and all drugs that cloud the reason or otherwise impair the functioning of mind and body. For someone who doesn't have formal ordina- tion, to avoid the use of intoxicants as much as possible is in itself a step forward. To be able to do without all these distractions, and concentrate our efforts on Dharma practice is a wonderful thing.
In the Buddha's teachings, we often find reference to the im- portance of moral discipline. "Morality is like the eanh. It supports everything, animate and inanimate. It is the foundation of all positive qualities. " Having moral discipline, another text says, we engage in study and contemplation of the teachings in order to enter into the effective practice of meditation. Some level of discipline is absolutely essential for our practice to be effective.
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That doesn't mean that people who lack a high degree of discipline should feel discouraged or think, "I'm useless, I can't do anything. Without ordination I'm hopeless. " That is not the point. Even for an ordinary person without formal ordination, the most imponant thing is to deal with life in as sensible a way as possible, so that we do not give rise to a great deal of anger, aggression, clinging, or greed. This is the crucial point.
For those who have taken ordination, another critical point is to guard against pride. Whether it is based upon your ordained status or on your erudition and intellectual understanding, pride goes against the purpose of practice and destroys its benefits. To think, "I'm a monk. I'm special, these people aren't. They're lower than I am," is an attitude completely contrary to the spirit of the or- dination. It destroys the vinues you would otherwise develop by following the ordained way of life.
If you are quite intelligent, and your learning causes ar- rogance, you may think, "I'm superior to these simpletons. They don't understand as much as I do. " Such intellectual pride runs con- trary to a true understanding of Dharma, and, in fact, destroys much of the benefit of your practice. The Buddha compared pride to a hard rock on which drops of water can make no impression. These drops represent the positive qualities you develop through practice. If your pride has solidified to this extent, then there is no way for positive qualities to penetrate. Much the same thing hap- pens if we regard Dharma simply as an intellectual pastime. If we merely accumulate information without practicing or experiencing what we have learned, our faith and compassion will diminish. We then become very indifferent to the teachings and think, "I've heard that before. I understand that already. " If we persist in this callous attitude, we reach a state where we cannot be helped. We have cut ourselves off from all possibility of being rescued from our stupidity. The Buddha said that even the greatest evil-doer can be saved, but a person who has become apathetic towards the Dharma cannot be helped, because such a mind has become petrified and closed to the teachings. On the other hand, a Bodhisattva has gained a complete understanding of all aspects of Dharma as presented in the Sutras, the Vinaya (discipline), the Abhidharma, and so forth. In all
descriptions of the Bodhisattva, however, there is never any reference to pride. Pride and realization are mutually exclusive.
When opportunities to practice Dharma occur, you should know that they arise from previous merit and that they afford a chance for you to accumulate further merit and develop awareness, and thus help other beings. You should also understand that it is because of the blessing of your Lama and the Three jewels that you have such opportunities.
The focus of this teaching is to encourage people who are in a favorable situation, and not to discourage those who are not. There is no need to feel, ''I'm only a layperson, just a householder (chim pa [khyim pa]). I haven't taken any vows, so I can't get enlightened. I'm hopeless. " The point is to be encouraged to concentrate on what you do have, because at the very least you have the Seed of Bud- dhahood. You have the precious human birth, which provides the opportunity and the leisure to realize fully this inherent potential. You have met with the teachings of Dharma and, in particular, the teachings of the Vajrayana, which give you the means to realize the Enlightened Mind. Everything depends upon understanding what you have, recognizing the blessings of the situation, and then mak- ing diligent, intelligent use of them. This is the way to approach Enlightenment.
Is this to say that there is no difference between someone who holds ordination and someone who doesn't? No. There is a dif- ference, which can be explained in the following way. Suppose there are two houses filled with identical treasure, exactly the same, ex- cept that one has a single door which is firmly bolted, and the other has many doors, all wide open. The house with the one door firmly bolted is in little danger of thieves, but the house with many open doors is always in danger of losing its precious contents. This is the difference between someone who has a formal discipline and lives up to it and someone who has not. Commitment to discipline through ordination gives the means to guard against faults and the loss of the benefits of Dharma practice. Without this formal commitment, one must have great diligence and intelligence, since the danger that mistakes will occur and benefits be lost is always present.
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Q. UESTION: Some people are reluctant to take vows because they are afraid they may inadvenently break them, and then be in a worse situation than if they had never taken the vows. For example, a person might accidentally step on an insect.
ANSWER: Any act of killing breaks the vow, but the only act of kill- ing that destroys the ordination is the willful murder of a human be- ing. Even inadvertent killing would not break the vow completely. Aside from homicide, any other act of killing, intentional or not, is an infraction of the vow. In any case, killing is a negative act, whether or not you have taken the vow. You do not escape the con- sequences of even inadvertent killing and a certain element of bad karma is still involved. The purpose of the vow is to make a definite commitment to avoid killing.
Four considerations determine the gravity of any action. The four considerations are the object of the action, the intention, the act itself, and the completion of that act. In the case of killing, there is the person being killed, the intent to kill, the act of killing, and an actual death. These four elements must be present for the vow to be completely broken. If only three are present, the act is less serious. If there are only two or one, the repercussions diminish accordingly.
In the case of killing an insect, for example, there is initially the perception of the object, the thought "That is an insect, a living thing. It has consciousness. " Second is the motivation. One thinks, "I want to kill it. " The third stage is actually to kill it. And the fourth is that the insect dies and one thinks, "Ah, good, it's dead. " That completes the action. This act of taking a life is serious because all four elements are present; that makes it a conscious act and fully carried out.
Q. UESTION: There are people who don't take vows but behave in accord with them, and other people who take the vows and keep them. Is there a difference?
ANSWER: There is a difference in the power of the virtue and merit accumulated by someone who is following a discipline without vows and someone who has actually taken formal ordination, because the latter has done so with a conscious intention and in the presence of their teacher and the Three jewels. This adds an element of power
to the situation that can be extremely effective. The difference is between natural virtue and deliberate virtue, which involves the conscious practice of a certain conduct. While the virtue of someone without ordination and someone with ordination, both living a good life, is more or less the same, what seems to be different is the degree of strength, real stability, and power to practice.
QUESTION: How can we develop discipline?
ANSWER: T o develop a disciplined way of life, you need to look at your own situation. If you are a monk or a nun, a discipline is clearly defined, but for an ordinary person some examination is necessary. You need to look at the way you are living, and, when you realize that certain acts, killing for example, are negative, you no longer want to do them. At this point you are your own witness, and ab- staining from a particular negative action like killing or stealing gives a great deal of benefit. If you do not feel you can be celibate, you can at least be faithful in your relationship, not deceiving or harming the other person. You make your own decisions and are your own witness for that kind of commitment. On the other hand, someone who has taken formal ordination has the best witnesses-the Three Jewels and the Lama; they make any action more powerful.
QUESTION: When I am taking a vow I get very nervous. I am afraid I will break it, and the presence of witnesses makes the whole thing even more unnerving.
ANSWER: It is not bad to feel nervous, because it means that you recognize you're undertaking something significant in the presence of an important witness. There is a sense of power and reality in the situation; it may frighten you, but it's not bad. It means you perhaps do not thoroughly understand the nature of what is going on, but at least you have some idea of the significance of the commitment. Still, if you feel that it would be detrimental at this time to under- take any formal commitment now, that does not mean that your own personal commitment isn't good enough. Human rebirth comes about as result of discipline, and discipline is not just a monk's or nun's vows: discipline is a certain commitment, whether by yourself or through formal ordination, to a way of life that pursues certain kinds of activity and avoids others. Perhaps in the present cir-
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cumstances it would be better for you to avoid committing yourself to something that makes you nervous. Whether it is in the context of formal ordination or not, a vow is still effective and your own per- sonal commitment to vows like not killing, lying or stealing, is im- portant and very beneficial.
QUESTION: I have an extreme problem with discipline and an organized way of life. I'm afraid of the methods you describe, because I know they go against my own nature. On the other hand, I think I am sincerely open to the teaching. How can I keep on being open to the teaching, even when the idea of discipline is so distasteful?
ANSWER: That is the purpose of the Four Contemplations that Turn the Mind towards Dharma practice: they automatically give rise to commitment. Instead of trying to force the commitment, you simply meditate in such a way that commitment becomes the only choice open to you. Given the situation we are in, how else could we behave except to have this commitment? Having seen things clearly, commitment tends to develop by itself. Perhaps a story will illustrate this point.
During the lifetime of Buddha Shakyamuni, there was a young man who was one of the Buddha's cousins. His name was Chungawo [gCung dGa bo]. Chungawo was married to a very beautiful woman. They were extremely happy together, but overly attached to each other. They simply could not bear to be out of each other's presence: wherever they went and whatever they did, they were always together. One day the Buddha saw that his cousin was ripe for training, so he went on his begging rounds as usual, holding his bowl, and stood in the road before the gate of his cousin's house waiting to receive anything he might be offered.
Chungawo had great faith, and when he saw the Buddha stand- ing there, he said to his wife, despite his extreme attachment to her, "I must go and make an offering to the Buddha. "
As he was going out the door, his wife grabbed him and said, "Where are you going? Don't leave me. " and he said, "No, I'm just going down to the end of the road. The Buddha's there. I'm going to offer him some food and I'll come right back. " She reluctantly
agreed, but taking part of the hem of her dress, she licked it and said, "I want you back before that's dry. "
Chungawo said, "Yes," and went out to make his offering. When he had filled the Buddha's bowl, the Buddha handed it back to him and said, "Here, you carry this," and started walking away slowly down the path. Chungawo was torn for a moment because he longed to get back to his wife, but simply could not ignore the in- struction of someone like the Buddha, so he began following him. The Buddha led him along a road up into the forest, to the place where he was staying, a small hermitage with a shrine. All along the road Chungawo could think of nothing but his wife, yet he was aware of his obligation to carry the Buddha's bowl, and at least hand it to him before he could run back home.
When they got to the hermitage the Buddha said, "Put the bowl down there. I'm leaving for a while, you stay here while I'm gone, and maybe sweep up a little. It's dusty, and there's a broom. " Chungawo was in a quandary; a long time had already passed, it was getting later and later, and he wanted nothing more than to be back with his wife. But once again he felt some obligation to the Buddha, so he began to sweep as quickly as he could to get all the dirt out of the door so he could run down the road to his wife. But the more he swept the dirtier things seemed to get. As soon as he thought he had cleaned it all, he turned around and there was more dirt and dust on the floor than ever. So he started sweeping again, and again the dirt grew. This happened a number of times and finally he gave up, threw down the broom, and walked out of the hermitage.
There were two paths leading from the hermitage down to the village. One was the main broad path up which he had come with the Buddha and the other was an overgrown back path which wound down the hill. Chungawo thought, "I'll take the back path. I won't run into anybody and I'll get home as quickly as possible. " But as he was going down this path, who should he see coming towards him but the Buddha. He thought, "I can't let him see me here," and ducked underneath a nearby bush. The branches of this bush hung down by the side of the road and formed a sort of little cave, into
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which Chungawo crawled, hoping to hide from the Buddha's gaze. But as the Buddha came up the path, the branches simply lifted up and there was Chungawo, crouching on the ground. The Buddha said, "What are you doing? Come with me. " He took him back up the hill, and once again Chungawo found himself being led away from his wife and towards the hermitage.
This went on for days, as the Buddha continually found ways to keep him from returning home. Finally there came a point when Chungawo insisted that he simply couldn't stay any longer. So the Buddha said, "Well, all right, but just before you go, let me show you something. Take hold of my robe. " Chungawo had no choice but to take hold of the Buddha's robes. All of a sudden he was flying through the air and then found himself on top of a high mountain, surveying a magnificent view in all directions.
While he and the Buddha were there enjoying the scenery, a very decrepit, wizened old woman approached them. The Buddha called Chungawo's attention to her and said, "Who is more beautiful, your wife or this old woman? " Chungawo exclaimed, "What do you mean? My wife is a hundred, no, a thousand times more beautiful than this old woman. " The Buddha just said, "Let's go to the god realms. Take hold of my robes. "
Chungawo did so, and immediately found himself in the god realms, a splendid environment of celestial palaces, with gods and goddesses enjoying sensual pastimes. Everything was so blissful that Chungawo was quite distracted from thoughts of his wife. Finally, after showing him the god realms, the Buddha took Chungawo to a palace inhabited by five hundred beautiful goddesses, where a cen- tral throne stood vacant. Then the Buddha said to Chungawo, "Who is more beautiful, your wife or these goddesses? " Chungawo said, "These goddesses are a thousand times more beautiful than my wife. " And the Buddha said, "Find out what's going on here. " Chungawo approached one of the goddesses, and said, "Why is there no one on the central throne? " She replied, "There's no one to occupy it just yet. A human named Chungawo is thinking about tak- ing ordination. He will become a monk and practice Dharma very strenuously. The virtue he accumulates will earn him a rebirth in this god realm. This is the seat he will occupy. "
Chungawo went back to the Buddha as quickly as he could and said, "Could I take ordination now? " The Buddha said, "That would be fine. " They returned to the human realm and the Buddha bestowed the vows of a fully ordained monk upon Chungawo, who became a member of the Buddhist community and began practicing diligently.
One day the Buddha called all his monks together and said, "All my disciples are very good monks. You are all dedicated to at? taining complete Enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. Except one, Chungawo-the only reason he keeps his vows is to gain rebirth in the god realms, where he wants to enjoy worldly pleasure. You should have nothing to do with him. I don't want you to talk to him, or share a seat with him. Ignore him completely. "
Now Chungawo was doing his best to be a very pure, disci? plined monk, a good disciple of the Buddha. His memory of the goddesses had made him forget all about his wife, and he was busy trying to keep his vows as well as he could. Suddenly he discovered he was being ostracized. Nobody would speak to him. As soon as he spoke, people turned their backs and walked away. They would neither sit with him nor eat with him, and he became extremely depressed. Finally, he went to the Buddha and said, "What's wrong with me? Why does everyone ignore me? "
The Buddha said, "Don't worry, let's go visit the hell realms this time. Take hold of my robe. " Chungawo did so and they soon arrived. The Buddha took him through one of the hells, where they saw beings burned, boiled, sawn in half or undergoing other tor? tures as a result of previous karma, and then they came to a vast pot full of molten metal. Fiendish-looking beings were stirring the pot, although no one was actually in it. So Chungawo went up to one of them and said, "Why are there beings in all the other pots, but this one is empty? " And the fiend said, "There is a monk named Chungawo, who thinks he is keeping his displine very purely. That merit will earn him rebinh in the god realms, but once that's ex? hausted, this is going to be his home. " Chungawo became extremely frightened and the Buddha took him back to the human realm.
At that point, Chungawo realized that any concern with the world was pointless, and that he should really be completely focused
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on attaining enlightenment. He became a very accomplished meditator who was noted for his ability to absorb himself completely in meditation, to rest his mind one-pointedly without any sensory distraction.
The point of the story is that by understanding death and im- permanence, the sufferings of samsara and the karmic process, you spontaneously discover a commitment to pure Dharma practice.
Ordination, which helps to cut off certain activities that are harmful to oneself and others, is one way of dealing with the emo- tions, and a very effective one. But not everyone has to take ordina- tion; indeed, it is very difficult for most people to undertake something as drastic as monastic ordination, where one leaves one's family and so forth, and becomes a monk or a nun. It is not possible or practical for most people, and they should not feel that ordina- tion is absolutely necessary: there are other ways of dealing with the emotions. Thanks to the kindness and blessings of the Buddha, we have instructions regarding Bodhicitta, the love and compassion for all other beings. There are also ways of skillfully transmuting the emotions without having to cut them off or suppress them. So one does not have to sever connections with family and friends.
The last words the Buddha spoke before he passed into Nirvana were: "I have shown you the way to Liberation. Actually achieving it is up to you. " The teacher can show the way to Liberation, but we have to experience it for ourselves. The path of Bodhicitta is open to all of us.
QUESTION: How is the merit of virtuous action lost?
ANSWER: The causes of losing merit and the benefits of our prac- tice fall into three principal categories. The first is pride in what we have accomplished. It is detrimental to think, ''I'm a wonderful per- son to have been so virtuous and accumulated this merit. I must be quite special. " A second way of impairing the effectiveness of merit involves regret, for example, following an act of generosity with the thought, "Oh, I shouldn't have given all that away, that was stupid. " The third way is through anger. Giving rise to very strong malevolent emotions destroys or impairs the merit of virtuous prac- tice. We guard against this loss by sharing the merit. As long as merit remains our own, it may be destroyed, but once we have
sincerely and without attachment shared it with everyone, it cannot be impaired even in these three ways. Through the simple act of sharing we guard against all these negative emotions.
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Women, Siddhi, Dharma
Women and men, children and adults, all share, to some extent, the opponunities and freedoms of our human condi- tion (see Glossary, "Precious Human Binh"). By contrast, animals and those in other states of existence lack these opponunities and freedoms. The distinction between human and beast-wild car- nivores living in the jungles, deep sea creatures or insect life-is made precisely on the basis of this opponunity to practice the Dharma.
Even among human binhs, there is a tremendous variety in our capacities to recognize and use this opponunity. The most excellent kind of human binh is called precious; in it, a person can make meaningful use of his or her life. This has nothing to do with social standing or any of the ordinary ways in which we judge people; it cenainly makes no difference, for example, whether one is a woman or man: the only question is whether or not the advantages of a human rebinh are appreciated and employed.
Regardless of whether you are a man or a woman, regardless of your particular situation in this life, if you have faith, confidence, and diligence, if you have compassion and wisdom, you can become enlightened. I f you are merely caught up in your emotional confu-
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sion and continue to let that dominate your life, no matter whether you are a man or a woman, Enlightenment will be difficult to attain. But if you have the necessary qualities for Dharma practice, the kind of body you have makes no difference at all.
The Ultimate Nature of Mind is Neither Male nor Female
The reason for this total equality of opportunity is the nature of mind itself, which is neither male nor female. There is no such thing as the intrinsic nature of one person's mind being better than some- one else's; on the ultimate level the empty, clear and unimpeded nature of mind exhibits no limiting qualities such as maleness or femaleness, superiority or inferiority. On the worldly level, of course, there are situations in which one person's mind suffers more obscurations than another's. This has more to do with karma than with gender or social standing. Even in the various realms ofrebirth, there is no ultimate difference between one mind and another. The profound teachings of the Buddhadharma provide ways to eliminate obscurations and arrive at a direct experience of mind.
On a relative level, however, there are differences, including the way in which the physical embodiment is formed at the subtle level of energy channels and energy centers. According to the teachings of tantra, the way in which a mind incarnates in a male body is subtly different from the way in which it incarnates in a female body. In the psycho-physical make-up of a male, there is more force, more concentrated and direct energy, whereas in that of a female there is more spaciousness, signifying Wisdom. These relative differences should always be understood in the context of the ultimate nature of mind.
If in studying and practicing the Buddha's teachings, women understand what is being said, they will attain Enlightenment. If men understand, they will attain Enlightenment.
In the Vajrayana tradition, the lives of the Mahasiddhas of Buddhist India represent models of Dharma practice. Among these are men such as Tilopa and Naropa and women such as Sukasiddhi and Niguma whose Enlightenment came about because they made
the fullest possible use of a human birth, not because they were in a particular kind of body.
Tara, the Protector
One great Bodhisattva, however, is always associated with the female form. This is Tara, the Liberator. Of her origin, this story is told.
Many millions of years in the past, there was a certain universe in which lived a princess, a young woman who was the daughter of the king of the realm. Her name was Yeshe Dawa [ye shes zla ba], which means "Moon of Primordial Awareness. " And at that time in that world there was a Buddha whose name was Tonyo Drupa [don yod grub pa]. The princess developed a great faith in this Buddha and received teachings from him. In particular she received instruc- tions in generating Bodhicitta, the compassionate concern for all other beings. The special vow the princess made was that until she achieved Enlightenment she would continue to incarnate as a woman, always taking a female form to benefit beings through her Buddha activity. Having made this initial vow, through her Bodhicitta, she donned the armor of this commitment. Overcoming all obstacles, she worked courageously to accumulate merit, to deepen her awareness, and to make herself more effective in helping sentient beings liberate themselves from confusion.
When teaching the root tantra associated with Tara, the Bud? dha praised this great Bodhisattva: "Tara is she who frees and pro? tects beings from all possible fears and sufferings that they can en- counter. Tara is she who closes the doors to the lower realms ofex- istence. Tara is she who leads them on the path to higher states of being. " With these words, the Buddha extolled the virtue of Tara in granting us protection and deliverance from all the fears that are part of the human condition.
Another way of conceiving of Tara is as an emanation of Chenrezi, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. At one time, Chenrezi, viewing the suffering of all beings throughout the world, was so moved that he shed two tears; the tear that fell from his right eye
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turned into the green form of the Bodhisattva Tara, and the tear from the left eye became the white form.
Machik Drupay Gyalmo and Tipupa
Amitayus is the Buddha of Immortality. One great Siddha noted for her practice of Amitayus was a woman called Machik Drupay Gyalmo [rna gcig grub pa'i rgyal mo]. She meditated upon this deity and attained not only Enlightenment, the ultimate goal of such practice, but also the more mundane accomplishment of pro? longing her life. Tradition has it that she lived five hundred years through her practice of Amitayus.
While Machik Drupay Gyalmo was still alive and teaching in India, there flourished another celebrated teacher, Tipupa. His in? teresting history goes back to southern Tibet in the area of Lodrak where Marpa the Translator lived. Marpa had a number of sons: to the eldest, Tarma Doday [dar rna mdo sde], Marpa intended to pass on his transmission. Marpa was thwarted by the untimely death of Tarma Doday, who was thrown from his horse and suffered a fatal concussion. Before the young man died, however, he was able to make use of a technique his father had taught him: he was able to transfer his consciousness, not from the physical body to a state of enlightened awareness, but into another physical body, a corpse. The practice required that the body, whether human or not, have only recently died and be fit to receive life. The mind of the dying person could then be projected into that corpse and reanimate it to carry on life as before.
The problem, of course, is that a new corpse is not always easy to find. When Marpa's son died, the whole area was searched and all that could be found was a dead pigeon. Someone had seen it struck by a hawk in the air and knocked out of the sky; it was dead when it fell to the ground. So he picked up the warm corpse of the pigeon and went running back to Marpa. They placed the pigeon on Tarma Doday's breast, and as his body began to die, the pigeon came to life, shaking its feathers and sitting up.
Marpa kept the pigeon for several days, feeding it well, and taking good care of it. While he was meditating, he realized what needed to be done. Marpa told his son, now incarnate as the pigeon,
about a charnel ground in India. Having been there himself, Marpa knew the directions and outlined the way very clearly. Marpa lived near the southern border of Tibet, where the journey to India is relatively short through the low passes over the Himalayas. "Fly to India," he said, "and find this charnel ground. The cremation of a young man is about to take place. You will be able to transfer your consciousness from the pigeon's body to his, and thus experience human existence again. " Then he let the pigeon go. It circled three times around Marpa and his wife, and flew off south.
When the bird reached India, it found the funeral procession, led by a Brahmin couple whose fifteen-yer-old son, bright and full of promise, had contracted an infectious disease and suddenly died. As the mourners laid the corpse out for cremation, the pigeon land- ed on the head, and immediately fell over dead. Right then the boy began to wake and move again. At first the onlookers thought a ghoul had taken possession of the corpse and ran away in fright. But the boy was able to speak to them, and soon convinced the brahmin family that their son had indeed come back to life, and without the help of demons.
In time this boy grew up to become a famous Buddhist meditator and teacher. Because of the pigeon that landed on his corpse, people called him Tipupa, meaning "Pigeon Boy," but his personal name was Trimay Shenyen [dri med bshes gnyen] which means "undefiled spiritual friend. "
Tipupa was still alive and teaching in India when Milarepa's student Rechungpa [ras chung pa] decided to go there to seek out teachings the lineage had not yet received. He met and studied with Tipupa, and one day was going through a bazaar when someone ap- proached him out of nowhere and said, "Well, if it isn't the young Tibetan yogin. You're in a lot of trouble. You have only seven days to live. Such a pity! " and then disappeared. Rechungpa was shocked, and wondered if the omen was genuine. He hurried to his teacher, Tipupa, who said, "It appears that this was an accurate prediction. A big obstacle to your life is coming, and unless you can deal with it skillfully, you will die. The most effective thing I can recommend is for you to go to see the woman teacher who is very skillful at transmitting the practice of Amitayus, the practice of im- mortality and longevity. "
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The woman was Machik Drupay Gyalmo. She was called Machik, "one mother" or "only mother," since she was maternally affectionate towards her students, who came to regard her as a mother. Drupay Gyalmo means "Queen of Siddhas. " Tipupa sent Rechungpa to take teachings from her; by receiving the Amitayus empowerment and practice, Rechungpa was able to forestall the threat to his life. Through his connection with Machik, he received the teachings he would bring back to Tibet, where they entered into all the lineages of Tibetan Buddhism, especially the mainstream of the Kagyii school. To this day we find reference to the Longevity Empowerment of the Queen of Siddhas.
Gelongma Palmo
During the early development of Buddhism in India, before its transmission to other countries like Tibet, there lived a princess, daughter of an Indian king, an unusually beautiful and intelligent girl, a most promising heir to the kingdom. At a certain point in her youth, however, she contracted a particularly virulent form of a disease resembling leprosy. Open sores began to cover her entire body and her flesh started to fester. As terrible as this was, doctors could find no cure. Gradually it became obvious that she was becoming a dangerous source of contagion and, as the disease pro- gressed, she became disgusting to see. So cutting off all ties with her life as a princess, she left the palace and went into a forest her- mitage. She took the vows of a nun in order to devote the last years of her life to intense Dharma practice.
During this time, she met a teacher who became very fond of her and was deeply moved by her situation. This teacher gave her the empowerment and the instruction for meditation on the eleven- faced, thousand-armed form of Chenrezi. For several years this was her main practice. During this time her disease got worse and worse; her extremities began to rot away, and her whole body was so com- pletely covered with open sores that she couldn't even sleep at night; she was in extreme pain and dying. Then, in the semi-waking state that was her fitful way of sleeping, she had a dream, or vision: the impression that somebody dressed in brilliant white came into her room with a large vase filled with pure water and poured it all over her body. She felt that the disease was being shed like the skin of a
snake, and that her body was being made whole again. When she woke up, she found her body renewed, as though nothing had ever troubled it. There was no sign of disease. Instantly she was filled with intense devotion and the conviction that her cure was due to the blessings of Chenrezi. At that moment she began to pray and meditate, and was blessed with a direct vision of the Bodhisattva, who dissolved into her. With this experience she attained a very high state of Realization and the direct experience of the nature of her mind.
The nun's name was Palmo [dpal mo], which means Lady of Glory, and she is known to the tradition as Gelongma Palmo.
