To come to an understanding of impermanence and a genuine desire to make others
happy in this brief opportunity we have together represents the beginning
of true spiritual practice. This kind of sincerity truly catalyzes transformation
of mind and being. We don't have to shave our heads or wear special robes.
We don't have to leave home or sleep on a bed of stone. Spiritual practice
doesn't require austere conditions, only a good heart and the maturity to
comprehend impermanence. This will lead to progress.
On the other
hand, if we only make a show of spirituality, burning the right incense, sitting
the right way, speaking the right words, we're liable to become more proud,
more self-righteous, condescending, and faultfinding. Such false practice
won't help us or others at all. The purpose of spiritual practice is not to
increase our faults. When it's done with a good heart and the knowledge of
impermanence, practice can justifiably be called great.
Having heard
this once, we may become inspired. It makes us warm inside, makes us happy,
to hear such truths. But it's a bit like patching a hole in our clothes: if
we don't sew the patch on well, pretty soon it's going to start slipping and
the hole's going to show again.
This is where
we come to contemplation and meditation. Even though we can be inspired and
touched by the simplicity and profundity of a spiritual approach to life,
still our habits are very strong and the world remains difficult for us to
contend with. Effective practice requires a constant reiteration of what we
know to be true.
Meditation is
a process of stitching, of reminding ourselves again and again of the deeper
truths--impermanence, loving kindness--until the patch is sewn on so strongly
it becomes a part of the cloth and strengthens the whole garment.
Then we're not
shaken by outer circumstances. There is a kind of ease that comes when we
understand the illusory nature of reality, when we comprehend the dreamlike
quality of life, this impermanence that pervades everything. Even as it is
it isn't, and someday it won't be at all. This doesn't mean that we deny our
involvement with life, but that we don't take it quite so seriously; we approach
it with less hope and fear. Then we're like an adult playing with a child
on the beach: the adult doesn't suffer like the child if the sand castle is
washed out to sea. Yet compassion arises in seeing the child's suffering.
Compassion is
natural to every one of us, but because we have deep, very self-centered habits,
we need to cultivate it by contemplating the suffering of those who invest
their dream with solidity. We need to develop a sincere, compassionate desire
that their suffering will cease, that they will come to understand the dreamlike
quality of life and thus avoid the agony that comes with the inevitable loss
of things they value.
For twelve years, a very great Indian scholar and practitioner, Atisha, studied
many texts, huge bodies of teachings and commentaries on the doctrine of the
Buddha and the realizations of great lamas. After his years of study, he came
to the conclusion that every single method--and the Buddha taught 84,000 methods
for achieving the transition from ordinary to extraordinary mind--came down
to the essential point of good-heartedness.
When we merely
talk about purity of heart it seems simple, but in difficult times it's not
so easy to maintain. If you are face to face with someone who hates you, someone
who would hurt you, it's very hard not to become angry and lose your loving
kindness.
It is taught by the Buddha and by beings of infallible wisdom who know all
causes and conditions of the past, present, and future that we have all had
countless lifetimes. This may prove difficult for some of us to accept, because
of course we haven't achieved so high a degree of wisdom: we don't know where
we came from before we were born or where we will go after we die. But if
we think about it, we live in the midst of today as a consequence of having
had a yesterday, and similarly today supplies the basis for our having a tomorrow.
It's the same with the sequence of existence. We have this life, which means
there was some previous basis for it, while the present itself forms the ground
for what will occur next.
If our inherent
wisdom were more fully revealed, we'd see that all beings--whether human,
animal, or otherwise--at some time throughout countless lifetimes have shown
us the kindness of parents, given us a body, protected us, enabled us to survive,
provided education, understanding, and some sort of worldly training. It doesn't
matter what their roles are now or how difficult our relationships with them
may be. It's as if we are playing at make-believe. We're like actors who come
to believe we're actually the characters we're enacting.
When we understand
this connection between ourselves and every other being, equanimity arises.
We regard everyone, whether friend or foe, with consideration. Even though
someone may prove difficult, it doesn't mean that person hasn't been important
to us before.
When we see
one who has once been our parent suffering terribly, our compassion deepens.
We contemplate, "How sad--she doesn't understand. If I understand a little
bit more, it's my responsibility to help her as much as I can."
A perception
like that softens us. Then, when we're in a stressful situation, we think
a moment before we react impulsively, responding with patience and compassion
instead of anger. We try to be kind and helpful, and refrain from hurtful,
self-interested, negative actions and faultfinding.
Applying spiritual
practice in daily life begins when you wake up in the morning. Rejoice that
you didn't die in the night, knowing you have one more useful day--you can't
guarantee that you'll have two. Then remind yourself of correct motivation.
Instead of setting out to become rich and famous or to follow your own selfish
interests, meet the day with an altruistic intention to help others. And renew
your commitment every morning. Tell yourself, "With this day I'll do
the very best that I can. In the past I've done fairly well on some days,
terribly on others. But since this day may be my last, I will offer my very
best; I will do right by other people as much as I am able."
Before you go
to sleep at night, don't just hit the pillow and pass out. Instead, review
the day. Ask yourself: "How did I do? I had the intention not to hurt
anybody--did I accomplish that? I meant to cultivate joy, compassion, love,
equanimity--did I do so?" Think not just of this day, but of every day
of your life. "Have I developed positive tendencies? Have I been basically
a virtuous person? Or have I spent most of my time acting negatively, engaged
in nonvirtuous activities?" Ask yourself these things critically and
honestly. How does it come out when you really study the tallies?
If you find
that you have fallen short, there's no benefit to feeling guilty or blaming
yourself. The point is to observe what you have done, because your harmful
actions can be purified. Negativity is not marked indelibly in the ground
of the mind. It can be changed. So look back. When you see your faults and
downfalls, call upon a wisdom being. You don't need to go to a special place,
for there is no place where prayer is not heard. It doesn't matter if you
consider perfection to be God, Buddha, or a deity, as long as when you objectify
it, there is no flaw, no fault, no limitation. From absolute perfection you
gain the blessings of purification.
Confess, with
that wisdom being as your witness, and sincerely regret the harm you've done,
vowing not to repeat it. As you meditate, visualize light radiating from the
object of perfection, cleansing you and purifying all the mistakes of your
day, your life, every life you've lived.
When you look
at your day, you may find that you were able to make others happy. Maybe you
gave food to a hungry animal or practiced generosity, patience. Rather than
becoming self-satisfied, resolve to do better tomorrow, to be more skillful,
more compassionate in your interactions with others. Dedicate the positive
energy created by your good actions to all beings, whoever they are, whatever
condition they're in, thinking, "May this virtue relieve the suffering
of beings; may it cause them short-and long-term happiness."
During the day,
check your mind. How am I behaving? What is my real intention? You can't really
know anybody else's mind; the only one you truly know is your own. Whenever
you can, contemplate these thoughts: the preciousness of our human birth,
impermanence, karma, the suffering of others.
In daily meditation
practice we work with two aspects of the mind: its capacity to reason and
conceptualize--the intellect--and the quality that is beyond thought--the
pervasive, nonconceptual nature of mind. Using the rational faculty, contemplate.
Then let the mind rest. Think and then relax; contemplate, then relax. Don't
use one or the other exclusively, but both together, like the two wings of
a bird.
This isn't something
you do only sitting on a cushion. You can meditate this way anywhere--while
driving your car, while working. It doesn't require special props or a special
environment. It can be practiced in all walks of life.
Some people
think that if they meditate for fifteen minutes a day, they ought to become
enlightened in a week and a half. But it doesn't work like that. Even if you
meditate and pray and contemplate for an hour of the day, that's one hour
you're meditating and twenty-three you're not. What are the chances of one
person against twenty-three in a tug-of-war? One pulls one way, twenty-three
the other--who's going to win?
It's not possible
to accomplish what must be achieved in the ground of the mind with one hour
of daily meditation. You have to pay attention to your spiritual process throughout
the day, as you work, play, sleep; the mind always has to be moving toward
the ultimate goal of enlightenment.
There are, of
course, established centers where you can hear the teachings of the Buddha,
places where you are exposed to a different worldview, where you can meditate
and contemplate in an environment in which others are doing likewise. It's
hard to make progress on your own, hard to change if you hear the teachings
only once. It's very helpful to visit such centers, but whether you can or
not, you need to sew the patch on your clothes with a care that requires repetition,
hearing and applying the teachings again and again.
When you are
out and about in the world, keep your mind with what you are doing. If you
are writing, keep your mind on the pen. If you are sewing, focus your mind
on the stitch. Don't get distracted. Don't think of a hundred things at the
same time. Don't get going on what happened yesterday or what might happen
in the future. It doesn't matter what the work is if you focus the mind and
stay with what you undertake. Hold to it closely, comfortable in what you
do, and in that way you will train the mind.
Always check
yourself thoroughly, reduce negative thoughts, speech, and behavior, increase
those that are positive. Think carefully, and continually refocus, because
you can get blurry very easily. What meditation produces is a constant refocusing.
You have to bring pure intention back again and again. And then relax the
mind, to allow a direct, subtle recognition of that which lies beyond all
thought.
It doesn't happen
swiftly, but the mind can change. There was once a man in India who decided
to measure his thoughts. It wasn't easy, for though one can be determined
to watch one's thoughts, many get away, those not seen as they pass by, that
come and go without our awareness. So this man started counting his thoughts
and determining whether they were good or bad. He put down a white stone for
every good, a black stone for every bad thought. At first this produced a
huge pile of black stones, but very slowly, as the years went by, the pile
of black stones became smaller and the white pile grew. That's the kind of
gradual progress we make with sincere effort. There's nothing flashy about
the progress of the mind; it's very measured and steady, requiring diligence,
attentiveness, patience, and enthusiastic perseverance.
In the tradition
of Buddhism there are many profound teachings, but what we've been discussing
is the essential sweet nectar of them all. Cultivating good heart throughout
daily life, practicing virtue, equanimity, compassion, love, and joy--this
is the way to enlightenment.
Chagdud
Tulku
Gates to Buddhist Practice
Junction City, CA, Padma Publishing, 1993
Any
of the following short meditations will give you "a taste of the mango."
The first two are contemplations on impermanence, a central theme in Buddhism.
Following the breath is a basic beginning meditation which even advanced practitioners
come back to again and again. Naming thoughts is often used in Theravaden
or Vipassana meditation, and provides an effective way to learn how your mind
works. Walking mindfully is used in many traditions between long sitting meditation.
Relaxing the mind by way of concentrating on one of the senses is effective
in stopping thoughts.
Flower Meditation
Find a flower
in its prime. Examine its leaves, petals, etc.
Smell it. Touch it.
Imagine a time
before the flower existed. Where was it? A seed? Before it was a seed? A part
of a flower that would become the seed of its seed?
Imagine the
flower tomorrow, next week. Will the petals be brown, wilted? When will it
fall to the ground or be thrown away? Imagine it on the ground, swept up,
heaped in garbage, taken away. Where is the flower now?
Bring your consciousness
back to the flower. Relate to its beauty, to its impermanence.
Cloth Exercise
Cut out a small square of cloth. Get to know that piece of cloth: its color,
its texture, its "clothness." Think about where it came from: visualize
cotton growing, being harvested, ginned, cleaned and processed, spun into
thread. Or imagine a lamb being born, growing a heavy coat of wool that is
sheared off, cleaned, spun into yarn. Imagine the mill where huge spools of
thread are woven into cloth, the shuttle going back and forth, back and forth.
See the cloth being dyed, rolled onto bolts, sent out to shops.
Now loosen one thread at the corner and pull it out. Continue to pull out
the threads from each side all the way around until nothing of the original
cloth remains.
At one time, the chair you are sitting on, the house you live in, the tree
outside your window--didn't exist. Then certain elements came together and
they began to "be." But in the physical world, whatever comes together
falls apart; whatever gathers, separates. In time your chair will be sent
to the junk heap, your house will be torn down, the tree will die. This may
take a long time, but eventually these solid seeming objects will be gone.
Think about everything in the material world--mountains, cities, your physical
body--in terms of this process.
Following the Breath
The breath connects
body and mind, the conscious and unconscious. Focusing on breathing is a common--and
highly effective--meditative technique found in many traditions.
Sit with your spine straight and gently breathe in and out. In and out. As
you breathe, follow the inhalation and exhalation with your consciousness.
Don't think, just follow the breath. If you find that your mind is wandering
(as it will), gently bring your attention back to the breath. In and out.
Some people find that it helps to say, "Breathe in, breathe out"
in rhythm with the inhalation and exhalation. Many suggest that we "be
breathed" rather than breathe ourselves.
Name
That Thought
Sit quietly.
Relax your mind and let your thoughts arise freely and without interruption.
As you watch your thoughts, name each one as it comes up. At first pick large
categories: angry thoughts; planning thoughts; memories; thoughts that are
busy; mean; kind; anxious, etc. After your "sit," you might want
to jot down the main categories. The next time you sit, repeat the process.
In time, if a particular type of thought keeps asserting itself--anger, for
instance--create subcategories. Anger at yourself, anger at your husband,
your child, whatever. Or if planning for the future dominates, watch what
it is that you are planning for, how often you're living in the future rather
than the present. If you do this exercise over a period of time you become
quite familiar with your thought patterns, with the types of thoughts that
habitually create your reality. Once aware of these thoughts and patterns,
you can change them.
Walking Meditation
This meditation
is very commonly used on retreats between long sitting meditations.
Center yourself
and walk very slowly, being mindful of every move that you make. Right heel
comes up, arch is raised, weight onto toe, toe leaves the ground, right foot
is raised, leg moves forward, right heel is lowered, touches earth. Weight
goes onto whole foot which touches earth. Left heel goes up and so forth.
Put your consciousness in your feet as you walk, don't just talk to yourself.
Really feel every muscle move, every tiny sensation in your legs and ankles.
To do this over and over with every step develops mindfulness.
Hearing Meditation
Sit quietly
out of doors. Do not think, but listen. Do not let your mind get caught up
in evaluating or contemplating the sounds. ("Bird. I wonder which kind.
Maybe a finch. No, they make more of a peeping sound.") This kind of
evaluation and analysis will lead you into other thoughts. ("Mother used
to keep two little finches in a cage on the porch. I haven't called her in
ages. I really don't feel like it, but....") Pretty soon you're lost
in discursive thought and have stopped listening. Likewise, don't react to
sounds ("Lawn mower. I hate that sound. When will it stop?" or "Piano
music. I hope it goes on forever.") Don't indulge in attachment or aversion,
but listen. Try to hear each sound separately and distinctly.
That's all.
Don't think, listen.
Relax the mind.
Listen.
The
Paintbrush
Your consciousness is a paintbrush with which you are going to paint your
body. Begin at the crown, brushing your head with small, overlapping strokes.
Feel your consciousness touch your scalp, fanning out from the crown to methodically
cover the back of the head, then begin again at the crown, cover the forehead,
around the eyes, the nose, the mouth, the chin. Continue down your neck, your
shoulders, upper arms, elbow, forearms, wrists, palms, and fingers. Section
your back into left and right halves, stopping at the waist; first "paint"
one half, then the other. Continue the process on the front, painting one
half, then the other. Track across the waist, back and forth until you've
reached the groin area, then switch over to the back, going back and forth
until you've covered your backside. Do both legs: thighs, back and front,
knees, calves, ankles, feet. From the feet go to the crown of the head again
and rest.
If you feel resistance in any area of the body, go over it several times to
release the energy.
Observing Intention
To understand
karma, it is essential to see how the motivation or intention preceding an
action determines the future karmic result of that action. Thus, if an act
is motivated by true kindness, it will necessarily bring a positive result,
and if an act is motivated by aggression or greed, it will eventually bring
an unpleasant result. Because karmic results do not always bear fruit immediately,
it is sometimes difficult to observe this process.
Speech is one
area in which karma can be seen in an easy and direct way. For this exercise,
resolve to take two or three days to carefully notice the intentions that
motivate your speech. Direct your attention to the state of mind that precedes
talking, the motivation for your comments, responses, and observations. Try
to be particularly aware of whether your speech is even subtly motivated by
boredom, concern, irritation, loneliness, compassion, fear, love, competitiveness,
greed, or whatever state you observe. Be aware too, of the general mood or
state of your heart and mind, and how that may be influencing your speech.
Try to observe without any judgment or program of what you should see. Simply
notice the various motivations in the mind and the speech that flows from
them.
Then, after
discovering which motivation is present as you speak, notice the effect of
the speech. If there is competitiveness or grasping or pride or irritation
behind the speech, what response does it elicit from the world around you?
If there is compassion or love, what is the response? If your speech is mindless,
as if you were on automatic pilot, what is the response? If there is clarity
and concern, how is this received and responded to?
With the law
of karma we have a choice in each new moment of what response our heart and
mind will bring to the situation around us. In discovering the power of our
inner states to determine outer conditions, we are able to follow a path that
can lead to genuine happiness and freedom.
Joseph Goldstein
& Jack Kornfield,
Seeking the Heart of Wisdom:
The Path of Insight Meditation
Shambhala, 1987
Helpful Books on Meditation
Joko Beck, Nothing
Special: Living Zen, Harper SanFrancisco, 1993.
Hubert Benoit, Zen and the Psychology of Transformation: The Supreme Doctrine,
Rochester, VT, Inner Traditions International, 1990.
Thubten Chodron, What Color is Your Mind?, Ithaca, NY, Snow Lion, 1993.
Ram Dass, Journey of Awakening: A Meditator's Guidebook, New York, Bantam,
1990.
Joseph Goldstein, The Experience of Insight: A Simple and Direct Guide to
Buddhist Meditation, Boston, Shambhala, 1983.
Lama Anagarika Govinda, Creative Meditation and Multi-Dimensional Consciousness,
Wheaton, IL, Quest Books, 1976.
Geshe Kelsang Gyatso, A Meditation Handbook, Tharpa Publications, London,
1990.
Tenzin Gyatso, The XIV Dalai Lama, Kindness, Clarity and Insight, Ithaca,
NY, Snow Lion, 1985.
Thich Nhat Hanh, A Guide to Walking Meditation, Berkeley, Parallax Press,
1985
-- Being Peace, Berkeley, CA, Parallax Press, 1985.
Kathleen Healy, Entering the Cave of the Heart: Eastern Ways of Prayer for
Western Christians, New York, Paulist Press, 1986.
Aryeh Kalan, Jewish Meditation: A Practical Guide, Cambridge, Schocken, 1985.
Jack Kornfield, A Path With A Heart: A Guide Through the Perils and Promises
of Spiritual Life, New York, Bantam, 1993.
-- Seeking the Heart of Wisdom: The Path of Insight Meditation, Boston, Shambhala,
1987.
Stephen Levine, A Gradual Awakening, New York, Doubleday, 1978.
--Who Dies? An Investigation of Conscious Living and Conscious Dying, New
York, Doubleday, 1982.
Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action, New York, Doubleday, 1973.
Kathleen McDonald, How to Meditate, London, Wisdom Publications, 1985.
Anthony de Mello, Sadhana: A Way to God, Christian Exercises in Eastern Form,
New York, Doubleday, 1984.
Paul Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Garden City, NY, Doubleday, 1957.
Lati Rinbochay, Denma Locho Rinbochay, Leah Zahler, Jeffery Hopkins, Meditative
States in Tibetan Buddhism, London, Wisdom, 1983.
Kalu Rinpoche, The Gem Ornament of Manifold Oral Instructions, San Francisco,
KDK Publications, 1983.
Ninian Smart, Buddhism & Christianity: Rivals and Allies, University of
Hawaii Press, 1993.
Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, HarperSanFrancisco,
1992.
Lama Zopa Rinpoche, Transforming Problems into Happiness, London, Wisdom,
1993.
Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, New York, Weatherhill, 1986.
Chogyam Trungpa, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism, Boston, Shambhala,
1973.
Chagdud Tulku, Gates to Buddhist Practice, Junction City, CA, Padma Publishing,
1993 Tarthang Tulku, Gesture of Balance, Berkeley, Dharma Publishing, 1977.
Allan Wallace, Tibetan Buddhism from the Ground Up, London, Wisdom Publications,
1993.
