At the beginning a kind of courtship with the guru is taking place, a love affair. How much are you able to win this person over to you? There is a tendency to want to be closer to your spiritual friend, because you really want to learn. You feel such admiration for him. But at the same time he is very frightening; he puts you off. Either the situation does not coincide with your expectations or there is a self-conscious feeling that “I may not be able to open completely and thoroughly.” A love-hate relationship, a kind of surrendering and running-away process develops. In other words, we begin to play a game, a game of wanting to open, wanting to be involved in a love affair with our guru, and then wanting to run away from him. If we get too close to our spiritual friend, then we begin to feel overpowered by him. As it says in the old Tibetan proverb: “A guru is like a fire. If you get too close you get burned; if you stay too far away you don’t get enough heat.” This kind of courtship takes place on the part of the student. You tend to get too close to the teacher, but once you do, you get burned. Then you want to run away altogether.
Eventually the relationship begins to become very substantial and solid. You begin to realize that wanting to be near and wanting to be far away from the guru is simply your own game. It has nothing to do with the real situation, but is just your own hallucination. The guru or spiritual friend is always there burning, always a life-fire. You can play games with him or not, as you choose.
Then the relationship with one’s spiritual friend begins to become very creative. You accept the situations of being overwhelmed by him and distant from him. If he decides to play the role of cold icy water, you accept it. If he decides to play the role of hot fire, you accept it. Nothing can shake you at all, and you come to a reconciliation with him.
The next stage is that, having accepted everything your spiritual friend might do, you begin to lose your own inspiration because you have completely surrendered, completely given up. You feel yourself reduced to a speck of dust. You are insignificant. You begin to feel that the only world that exists is that of this spiritual friend, the guru. It is as though you were watching a fascinating movie; the movie is so exciting that you become part of it. There is no you and no cinema hall, no chairs, no people watching, no friends sitting next to you. The movie is all that exists. This is called the “honeymoon period” in which everything is seen as a part of this central being, the guru. You are just a useless, insignificant person who is continuously being fed by this great, fascinating central being. Whenever you feel weak or tired or bored, you go and just sit in the cinema hall and are entertained, uplifted, rejuvenated. At this point the phenomenon of the personality cult becomes prominent. The guru is the only person in the world who exists, alive and vibrant. The very meaning of your life depends upon him. If you die, you die for him. If you live, you survive for him and are insignificant.
However, this love affair with your spiritual friend cannot last forever. Sooner or later its intensity must wane and you must face your own life situation and your own psychology. It is like having married and finished the honeymoon. You not only feel conscious of your lover as the central focus of your attention, but you begin to notice his or her lifestyle as well. You begin to notice what it is that makes this person a teacher, beyond the limits of his individuality and personality. Thus the principle of the “universality of the guru” comes into the picture as well. Every problem you face in life is a part of your marriage. Whenever you experience difficulties, you hear the words of the guru. This is the point at which one begins to gain one’s independence from the guru as lover, because every situation becomes an expression of the teachings. First you surrendered to your spiritual friend. Then you communicated and played games with him. And now you have come to the state of complete openness. As a result of this openness you begin to see the guru-quality in every life situation, that all situations in life offer you the opportunity to be as open as you are with the guru, and so all things can become the guru.
Milarepa had a vivid vision of his guru Marpa while he was meditating in very strict retreat in Red Rock Jewel Valley. Weak with hunger and battered by the elements, he had fainted while trying to collect firewood outside his cave. When he regained consciousness, he looked to the east and saw white clouds in the direction where Marpa lived. With great longing he sang a song of supplication, telling Marpa how much he longed to be with him. Then Marpa appeared in a vision, riding a white snow lion, and said to him something like, “What is the matter with you? Have you had a neurotic upheaval of some sort? You understand the Dharma, so continue to practice meditation.” Milarepa took comfort and returned to his cave to meditate. His reliance and dependence upon Marpa at this point indicates that he had not yet freed himself from the notion of guru as personal, individual friend.
However, when Milarepa returned to his cave, he found it full of demons with eyes as big as saucepans and bodies the size of thumbs. He tried all kinds of ploys to get them to stop mocking and tormenting him, but they would not leave until Milarepa finally stopped trying to play games, until he recognized his own hypocrisy and gave in to openness. From this point on you see a tremendous change of style in Milarepa’s songs, because he had learned to identify with the universal quality of guru, rather than solely relating to Marpa as an individual person.
The spiritual friend becomes part of you, as well as being an individual, external person. As such the guru, both internal and external, plays a very important part in penetrating and exposing our hypocrisies. The guru can be a person who acts as a mirror, reflecting you, or else your own basic intelligence takes the form of the spiritual friend. When the internal guru begins to function, then you can never escape the demand to open. The basic intelligence follows you everywhere; you cannot escape your own shadow. “Big Brother is watching you.” Though it is not external entities who are watching us and haunting us; we haunt ourselves. Our own shadow is watching us.
We could look at it in two different ways. We could see the guru as a ghost, haunting and mocking us for our hypocrisy. There could be a demonic quality in realizing what we are. And yet there is always the creative quality of the spiritual friend which also becomes a part of us. The basic intelligence is continuously present in the situations of life. It is so sharp and penetrating that at some stage, even if you want to get rid of it, you cannot. Sometimes it has a stern expression, sometimes an inspiring smile. It has been said in the tantric tradition that you do not see the face of the guru, but you see the expression of his face all the time. Either smiling, grinning, or frowning angrily, it is part of every life situation. The basic intelligence, tathagatagarbha, buddha nature, is always in every experience life brings us. There is no escaping it. Again it is said in the teachings: “Better not to begin. Once you begin, better to finish it.” So you had better not step onto the spiritual path unless you must. Once you have stepped foot on the path, you have really done it, you cannot step back. There is no way of escaping.
The Vajrayana teacher is referred to as the vajra master. The vajra master is electric and naked. He holds a scepter in his hand, called a vajra, which symbolizes a thunderbolt. The teacher holds the power to conduct lightning with his hand. By means of the vajra he can transmit that electricity to us. If the cosmos and the student are not connecting properly, the vajra master can respark the connection. In this sense the teacher has a great deal of power over us, but not such that he can become an egomaniac. Rather, the teacher is a spokesman who reintroduces the world to us: he reintroduces us to our world.
The vajra master is like a magician in the sense that he has access to the cosmic world and can work with it, but not in the sense that he can turn earth into fire, or fire into water, just like that. The vajra master has to work with the actual functions of the universe. We could say that the cosmos contains a lot of magic, and because the vajra master has some connection with the world and the happenings of the world, there is magic already. Therefore, the vajra master could be considered a supervisor of magic rath
er than a magician.
Relating with the vajra master is extremely powerful and somewhat dangerous at this point. The vajra master is capable of transmitting the vajra spiritual energy to us, but at the same time, he is also capable of destroying us if our direction is completely wrong. Tantra means “continuity,” but one of the principles of tantric discipline is that continuity can only exist if there is something genuine to continue. If we are not genuine, then our continuity can be canceled by the vajra master. So we do not regard our teacher in the Vajrayana as a savior or as a deity who automatically will give us whatever we want.
The vajra master could be quite heavy-handed; however, he does not just play tricks on us whenever he finds a weak point. He conducts himself according to the tradition and the discipline: he touches us, he smells us, he looks at us, and he listens to our heartbeat. It is a very definite, deliberate process done according to the tradition of the lineage. That process—when the vajra master looks at us, when he listens to us, when he feels us, and when he touches us—is known as abhisheka or empowerment.
Abhisheka is sometimes translated as “initiation,” but that does not actually convey the proper meaning. As we discussed earlier, abhisheka is a Sanskrit word that literally means “anointment.” It is the idea of being bathed in holy water that is blessed by the teacher and the mandala around the teacher. However, abhisheka is not an initiation or rite of passage in which we are accepted as a member of the tribe if we pass certain tests. In fact, it is entirely different. The vajra master empowers us and we receive that power, depending both on our own capability and the capability of the teacher. Therefore the term “empowerment” is more appropriate than “initiation,” because there is no tribe into which we are initiated. There is no closed circle; rather, we are introduced to the universe. We cannot say that the universe is a big tribe or a big ego; the universe is open space. So the teacher empowers us to encounter our enlarged universe. At this point the teacher acts as a lightning rod. We could be shocked or devastated by the electricity he transmits to us, but it is also possible that we could be saved by having such an electric conductor.
In the Vajrayana, it is absolutely necessary to have a teacher and to trust in the teacher. The teacher or vajra master is the only embodiment of the transmission of energy. Without such a teacher we cannot experience the world properly and thoroughly. We cannot just read a few books on tantra and try to figure it out for ourselves. Somehow that does not work. Tantra has to be transmitted to the student as a living experience. The tantric system of working with the world and the energy of tantra have to be transmitted or handed down directly from teacher to student. In that way the teachings become real and obvious and precise.
A direct relationship between teacher and student is essential in Vajrayana Buddhism. People cannot even begin to practice tantra without making some connection with their teacher, their vajra, indestructible, master. Such a teacher cannot be some abstract cosmic figure. He has to be somebody who has gone through the whole process himself—somebody who has been both a panicking student and a panicking teacher.
We could say that the vajra master exists because he is free from karma, but that through his compassion such a teacher establishes a relative link to his world. However, in a sense no one is actually free from karma, not even the enlightened buddhas. The buddhas are not going to retire from their buddhahood to some heavenly realm. They have to help us; they have to work with us. That is their karma and our karma as well.
That is one of the interesting differences between the theistic and the nontheistic approach. In the theistic approach, when we retire from this world, we go to heaven. Once we are in heaven we do not have anything to do with the world. We have no obligations, and we can be happy ever after. But in the nontheistic tradition, even if we attain the state of liberation or openness, we still have debts, because the rest of our brothers and sisters in the world are still in trouble. We have to come back. We can’t just hang out in nirvana.
So the vajra master is a human being, someone who has a karmic debt to pay as a result of the intensity of his compassion. The Dharma cannot be transmitted from the sun or the moon or the stars. The Dharma can only be transmitted properly from human to human. So there is a need for a vajra master who has tremendous power—power over us, power over the cosmos, and power over himself—and who has also been warned that if he misdirects his energy he will be cut down and reduced into a little piece of charcoal.
It is extremely important to have a living vajra master, someone who personally experiences our pain and our pleasure. We have to have a sense of fear and respect that we are connecting and communicating directly with tantra. Making that connection is a very special thing. It is extremely difficult to find a true tantric situation and to meet a true tantric master. Becoming a true tantric student is also very difficult. It is very difficult to find the real thing.
From Chögyam Trungpa, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism (Boston: Shambhala Publications, 1973), “The Guru,” and Journey Without Goal (Boston: Shambhala Publications, 1981), “The Vajra Master.”
11
WAKE-UP PRACTICE
Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche
In the morning we should begin with the practice of stirring from the sleep of ignorance.
Chant the liturgy called Awakening from the Sleep of Ignorance from the Barchey Künsel teachings, and then, after exhaling the stale breath, visualize the guru on top of your head.
Next recite the Buddha of the Three Times, after which the guru dissolves into yourself.
From beginningless time until now, the wisdom prana has been obscured by the klesha prana, the wind of disturbing emotions. This klesha prana continually leads to thoughts of attachment, aggression, and delusion, thereby creating habitual patterns. To avoid this, expel the stale breath.
At the outset of practice straighten the body. As the right nostril is the major path for the movement of the strong kleshas, first exhale through the right nostril, then the left and finally through both. Exhale the stale breath three or nine times, whichever is suitable. The exhalation should be accompanied by a hissing sound, and the inhalation should be done slowly. When exhaling, imagine that all the karmas, kleshas, evil deeds, obscurations, sicknesses, and negative forces flow out like smoke from a chimney. When inhaling, imagine that five colored rainbow lights of the blessings, wisdom, loving compassion, activities, and qualities of all the victorious ones and their sons dissolve into yourself. Negativity leaves your body through all the pores, but mainly through the nostrils.
Then, while imagining your root guru above the crown of your head, chant Buddha of the Three Times, an incredibly blessed supplication especially suited for these times. Most people in Tibet did not have to learn this supplication to the guru, because the Dharma was so widespread that even small children could chant it without deliberate study. When we chant,
Düsum sangye guru rinpoche
Buddha of the three times, Guru Rinpoche,
we are supplicating Guru Rinpoche, who carries out all the activities of all the buddhas in order to tame beings. When we chant,
Ngödrub kündag dewa chenpö shab
Lord of all accomplishments, great blissful one,
we recognize his attainment as the Guru of Great Bliss—Guru Dewa Chenpo. We know that he can conquer all when we chant,
Barchey künsel düdül drakpo tsal
Dispeller of all obstacles, wrathful tamer of Maras.
This is the external practice. The treasures of Chokgyur Lingpa include the external practice, called Barchey Künsel, “Clearing Away the Obstacles,” the inner practice, Sampa Lhundrub, and the secret practice, Dorje Draktsal. These lines contain all three. The first line, “Buddha of the three times, Guru Rinpoche” is the outer practice, Barchey Künsel.
The next line is the Sampa Lhundrub, the inner practice, and the third line is the secret practice, Dorje Drakpo Tsal. One supplicates all three.
Solwa debso jingyi lobtu sol
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I supplicate you, please grant your blessings.
Chinang sangwey barchey shiwa dang
Please pacify the outer, inner, and secret obstacles.
The outer obstacles are the obstacles of the outer elements. The inner obstacles are those of the channels and winds. The secret obstacles are those of grasping and fixation. So the essence of the Barchey Künsel, the external practice, is to pacify or dispel these three kinds of obstacles.
Sampa lhüngyi drubpar jingyi lob
Bless me with the spontaneous fulfillment of my wishes.
Through this blessing, whatever you wish for, such as the supreme and common siddhis, may be spontaneously accomplished. In fact, when obstacles are cleared away, the siddhis will be spontaneously accomplished.
The Barchey Künsel sadhana is contained in the Essence Manual of Oral Instructions. However, the essence of this instruction is condensed into the supplication, “Buddha of the three times, Guru Rinpoche.” One wishes to accomplish the common and supreme siddhis. One supplicates wholeheartedly, with a single-pointed frame of mind, without any doubt. One resolves there is no hope or refuge elsewhere than in the guru.
The Dzogchen Primer Page 12
