The Dzogchen Primer

by Marcia Schmidt

  As beginners, we should stay focused on the object of attention. And yet we need to understand that as long as the mind stays focused on an object, something is still incomplete. Deciding “I will rest my attention on one thing” is quite beneficial. But it would be even better if we could simply rest our attention free from focus, in a total openness free from reference point. This is the second type of shamatha. As long as we remain focused upon a particular object, we retain the idea of “that” and “I,” meaning the one who focuses and the object of focus. There’s still some degree of fixation or grasping occurring. In Buddhism, grasping or fixating on duality is considered the root cause of samsaric existence. Thus, to practice a meditation that is an exercise in retaining dualistic fixation can’t be called perfect. Still, it is a stepping-stone. If we don’t learn our ABCs in first grade, we’ll never start reading. In the same way, once we grow accustomed to the practice of shamatha with focus, it becomes very simple to learn how to rest calmly free from focus. When our attention remains totally undisturbed by emotions, thoughts, and concepts, free from all reference points, and free from focus, that is called objectless shamatha.

  Having cultivated this state of shamatha, the next step is to embrace it by clear seeing, by vipashyana. The practice of shamatha, of being at peace, is by itself insufficient to obtain liberation from the three realms of samsaric existence. For this reason it is extremely important to carefully study the teachings, to reflect upon them, and to become clear about how to practice. If we don’t do this, if we simply identify the ultimate meditation state with shamatha, even though we may become very stable, we may never go beyond a samsaric state called the “formless meditation gods.” We may remain here for a very long time, but when the experience eventually wears out we end up back in other samsaric states. So it’s very important to be careful, to see clearly.

  We should understand that shamatha practice has both pros and cons, a good side and a bad side. The good side of shamatha is that it is free from any disturbing emotions, free from the agonizing thought activity of the three times. The bad side of shamatha is that in itself it does not lead to liberation from samsara. It only becomes a cause for liberation when embraced by vipashyana. The realization of all the buddhas is described as the unity of shamatha and vipashyana, never as shamatha by itself.

  To reiterate, first of all, when we’re not involved in disturbing emotions and thoughts, there is an immediate sense of peace, of relief from suffering. The state of shamatha is unspoiled by thoughts of the past, present, or future. By not thinking of anything in these three times, we are free from disturbing emotions. In addition to shamatha, there is also the practice of vipashyana, which means “seeing clearly.” The basic nature of our mind, our innate nature, is a wakefulness in which emptiness and cognizance are indivisible. Unless there is some clear seeing of this innate wakefulness, to merely rest calmly in a state of stillness is essentially to be ignorant. We need to do more than simply be free from disturbing emotions and thought activity. Excellent as it is, a tranquil feeling is not enough to clearly see our innate nature. Self-existing wakefulness, the unity of being empty and cognizant, is totally free from any fixation on subject and object. To rest evenly in that is called the unity of shamatha and vipashyana. So, straighten your back. Stop talking, and don’t force or control your breathing—just let it flow naturally. The realization of all buddhas is the unity of shamatha and vipashyana.

  The Buddha gave different levels of teachings aimed at different types of persons, so we should apply whatever teaching fits us. If you know how to practice the state that is the unity of shamatha and vipashyana, then you should do that. If you feel that you are better able or more ready to practice the state of shamatha without object, you should do that. And if you feel that’s difficult, that you must focus on an object in order for the attention not to waver from one thing to another, then practice shamatha focused on an object. We should practice according to our individual capacity, which is something we ourselves know. It doesn’t help to fool ourselves, thinking we can practice something that we don’t really understand. Be honest and practice in accordance with your own level. Then the session is not wasted.

  Meditation training is the opposite of the ordinary conceptual state of mind that thinks, “I am here, the world is there.” Because it’s so different from our ordinary state of mind, it’s vital to study and reflect in order to eradicate any lack of understanding, misunderstanding, or doubt that we may have about the correct view, meaning the correct understanding of how things are. If we, after arriving at certainty in the correct view, implement that in meditation practice, even a short period of meditation will have a great impact. On the other hand, if we don’t gain an authentic understanding of the view of the innate nature of things, the effect will not be that great no matter how diligent we are. In short, don’t separate learning, reflection, and meditation, because these can clear away all the faults of not understanding, misunderstanding, and doubt.

  Adapted from Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche, Indisputable Truth (Boudhanath: Rangjung Yeshe Publications, 1996), “Meditation.”

  PART THREE

  INTEGRATION

  6

  INTEGRATING VIEW AND CONDUCT

  Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche

  Of the two aspects of view and conduct, it is said that we should “ascend with the conduct”—start with the conduct at the bottom and work up. This means first study and practice the teachings of the shravakas; next the teachings of the bodhisattvas, and finally those of the Vajrayana. Start with the bottom and work up—ascend with the conduct. We do this first by contemplating the four mind-changings, then practicing the specific preliminaries, then doing yidam practice, and finally ending with the three great views. The three great views are known as Mahamudra, the Great Seal; Dzogchen, the Great Perfection; and Madhyamika, the Great Middle Way.

  The Buddha described his teachings in this way:

  Just like the steps of a staircase,

  You should train step-by-step

  And endeavor in my profound teachings.

  Without jumping the steps, proceed gradually to the end.

  Just as a small child

  Gradually develops its body and strength,

  Dharma is in that same way,

  From the steps of entering in the beginning

  Up until the complete perfection.

  Accordingly, we should behave in conformity with the basic teachings, starting from the bottom, just as we would on a staircase. We cannot climb a staircase by starting at the top; we must begin with the first step.

  The view, on the other hand, should be unfolded from above: that is why the saying continues “while descending with the view.” Imagine a canopy or parasol that is unfolded above oneself: the view should descend from above in this way.

  We must be careful because there is a way of perverting this basic principle and turning it completely upside down, so that one ascends with the view and descends with the conduct. This means to behave according to the highest vehicle while holding a view that starts from the bottom. This is called perverting the teachings. We should get the highest view, but behave first like a shravaka, then like a pratyekabuddha, and slowly like a bodhisattva. Regarding conduct, start from the bottom, not the other way around. You will not find any teaching anywhere that says, “Keep the view of a shravaka, or an even lower view, while acting like a Dzogchen yogi.” This is a very important principle: keep the view as high as possible, but behave with a very low profile. Act like a shravaka, then a pratyekabuddha, then a bodhisattva. This is called unfolding the view from above, while ascending with the conduct from below.

  The view of Mahamudra, Dzogchen, and Madhyamika is identical in essence. Although it is said, “The ground is Mahamudra, the path is the Middle Way, and the fruition is the Great Perfection,” in the view itself there is no difference whatsoever. In my tradition we do not select only one particular view among these three. The naked, natural state of mind does
not exclusively belong to any specific category of Middle Way, Mahamudra, or Dzogchen. These three are taught here as one identical nature. The awakened state of Mahamudra does not differ from the awakened state of Dzogchen or Madhyamika. Buddhahood is the final fruition of all these regardless of which of these paths you follow, just as when you approach the Vajra Seat in Bodh Gaya from north, south, or west, you arrive at exactly that spot. It does not matter from which direction we approach it; the ultimate destination is the same.

  To be a real yogi, someone who truly realizes these three great views, first recognize the natural state of awareness. Then, train to develop the strength of that recognition by sustaining its continuity. Finally, gain some degree of stability. That is the only authentic way. Some people, though, want this to happen on the spot. They do not want to undergo any of the preliminary practices, or subject themselves to the yidam training that is known as the main part of the practice. Some people want nothing but the view. That would be fine if it really were enough, but it is not.

  The main reason you cannot only teach the view is that quite a few people will then miss the main point by believing, “I only need the view! There is nothing to do! I can give up all activities!” Of course, this may be true in some sense; however, what happens when someone gives up conventional Dharma practice too early is that such a person fails to do any spiritual practice in terms of purifying obscurations and gathering the accumulations. At the same time, he or she does not truly realize, progress in, and attain stability in the view. The end result is that the view remains an idea while your behavior shows no regard for good and evil. That is what Padmasambhava meant by “losing the conduct in the view.”

  We need to integrate view and conduct. Padmasambhava said as well, “Though your view is higher than the sky, keep your deeds finer than barley flour.” Understand the expression “finer than barley flour” to mean to adopt what is virtuous and avoid what is evil, with respect for the law of cause and effect, with attention to the smallest detail. This is to keep harmony between view and conduct. The opposite, separating one’s actions from the view, is to somehow convince oneself that there is no need to do the preliminary practices, no need for any good deeds, no need for making offerings, and no need to apologize for evil actions. One can fool oneself into believing one need only remain in simplicity. What this honestly means, though, is that such a person will have no spiritual progress. Ultimately, it is definitely true that there is nothing to do, but this is true only after one has passed through to the other side of understanding, experience, and realization. To maintain an intellectual conviction of the view without having undergone the training is a severe misunderstanding. This is how the self-professed “Dzogchen practitioner” goes astray.

  In Tibet many people committed this grave error. Westerners cannot really be blamed for this fault yet, since the Dharma is only now taking hold in their countries; the understanding of practice is just being established. Tibet, on the other hand, was a country where the Dharma had been taught and understood for many centuries. Yet many people went astray in this fashion, not simply a few. Frankly speaking, there may have been more people in Tibet with a “make-believe view” than with genuine insight.

  I do not feel I can really blame Westerners who heard stories about the Buddha and the Indian siddhas receiving the teachings on mind essence and nondoing, and who then think, “Well, we are the same; there is nothing to do. Everything is fine as it is.”

  It is honestly not such a simple matter to arrive at the correct view. You must connect with a true master; you must have the necessary intelligence. Then you must go all the way through the training. It is much easier to glare at benefactors with wide-open eyes and look about with an air of Dzogchen. Most people behaving like that are actually charlatans. Often they could not help it; without some dishonesty it could be hard to get by and gather donations. Playing the simple meditator and keeping a low profile would not be successful—who would know about your realization then? If you happened to be an upstart lama with a penchant for fame and fortune, you would have to brag a little. You would need to tell about how many Dharma lineages and teachings you held, how long you stayed in retreats, how special your realization is, how you tamed both gods and demons, and the like. Then things would happen; you would be swarmed by sponsors and followers like a piece of rotting meat covered with flies. Yes, honestly, there were more fake lamas in Tibet than authentic ones.

  Some people have the habit of thinking that something is bound to happen after practicing meditation a while—like going through school—that after ten or fifteen years you end up with a degree. That’s the idea in the back of people’s minds: “I can make it happen! I can do enlightenment!” Not in this case, though. You cannot make enlightenment, because enlightenment is unconstructed. Realizing the awakened state is a matter of being diligent in allowing nondual awareness to regain its natural stability. It is difficult to reach enlightenment without such diligence, without undertaking any hardship.

  Faced with the reality of not progressing in the so-called meditation practice of a conceptually constructed view, you might get discouraged: “I can’t get enlightened! I spent three years in retreat and nothing has happened!” On the other hand, if you practice in an authentic fashion you will definitely become enlightened; there is no question about this. Training assiduously with devotion, compassion, and loving-kindness while repeatedly letting be in unconstructed equanimity, you will surely discover the true signs of spiritual practice. These signs are the acute feeling that life is impermanent and that there is no time to waste; that the Dharma is unfailing; that there is genuine benefit from training in samadhi; and that it is truly possible to overcome conceptual thinking.

  While these are taught to be the most wonderful signs of progress, a materialistic type of person will not see them as being so wonderful. He wants a flabbergasting meditation experience. If something astounding happens that he can see or hear or maybe even touch, he thinks, “Wow! I am really getting somewhere now! This is completely different from what I am used to—such a beautiful experience! Such bliss! Such clarity! Such emptiness! I feel totally transformed! This must really be it!” [Rinpoche chuckles.]

  On the other hand, when you reach the “even plains” of nonthought, the simple quiet after conceptual thinking dissolves, there is nothing very exceptional to see, hear, or grasp. You may feel, “Does this really lead anywhere? There is nothing special in this!” Honestly, the view is not something spectacular; on the contrary, it is free from pinpointing anything particular at all. The person who does not comprehend this fact will think, “What’s the use of this? I worked so hard for years and nothing is really happening! Maybe it would be better to visualize some deity. Maybe I should chant some special mantra that would give me powers, and then I could show some results of practice, some real accomplishment!” People do fall prey to this type of thinking.

  During this process, your subtle disturbing emotions remain intact; eventually they manifest again and take over your being. Why wouldn’t they? Everyone is overcome by disturbing emotions unless they are stable in nondual awareness. Only the moment of the awakened state does not become caught up in deluded emotion. Nondual awareness is the most effective way, but the materialistic practitioner does not appreciate this. He wants an altered state, a special experience, an extraordinary dream. When it happens he congratulates himself, “Excellent! This is the real thing!” Such is the weakness of human nature.

  My root guru Samten Gyatso once said, “I have not had a single special experience. As the years pass by, my trust in the authenticity of the Dharma grows. I am confident in the truth of the three kayas. From the age of eight I looked into the essence of mind, and since then I have never forsaken it. My diligence varied and of course I became distracted at times, but mostly I have kept to the practice of mind essence.” I only heard him say this once; otherwise, he would never discuss such personal matters.

  At the same time Samten Gy
atso was so intelligent and learned, so attentive to every little detail, so skilled in every little task, so steady and trustworthy, that people would regard him as being like Marpa the Translator. Samten Gyatso was so precise in all matters that if you got his word on something you would never later hear him say that he forgot. That’s the kind of man he was, extremely dependable, totally reliable.

  His eyes burned with an astonishing brilliance, like the flame of a butter lamp at its end, somewhat like the bright eyes of a kitten. Coming into his presence, it felt as if he was penetrating your innermost core, laying bare your innermost secrets. Anyway, he was scrupulously attentive to all his daily affairs, both spiritual and secular. He never postured or put on the air of high realization. In Tibet there was no shortage of people of that kind—people who never lowered their vacant, glaring gaze to the ground, and who spouted random statements like “All the phenomena of samsara and nirvana are great equality!” [Rinpoche laughs.] Actually, what do you gain from such pretense!