The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa Collected Works: Volume Two (67 page)

There seems to be a tremendous subtlety of perception in the bodhisattva path. That subtlety comes from a sense of basic warmth, a compassionate mentality, along with the shunyata mentality of openness—compassion and openness operating simultaneously. It seems to be extremely difficult to develop that just by magic. We cannot develop it by doing some unrelated technique like standing on our heads or reciting certain formulas that supposedly provide sympathetic vibrations toward that practice. According to the bodhisattva’s way, we have to get into it—we have to
do it!
It is as if we had all those faculties such as generosity, patience, discipline, energy, meditation, and knowledge already in us. On the whole, some kind of leap seems to be necessary—leap in the sense of developing basic confidence. We might feel that we are inadequate, but nevertheless we pretend we can do it. We push ourselves into that situation. It is similar to taking the bodhisattva vow. There is tremendous pretense involved. We are uncertain whether we are able to tread the bodhisattva’s path or not, but we still decide to do it. This confidence is known as
pranidhana
, which means “vision.”

Fundamentally there is hope. There is space for vision, space where vision could be worked through and distributed. Looking back and looking to the future are equally necessary, particularly in actually practicing the bodhisattva’s way in day-to-day living. There is a sense of fearlessness, that there is a solid working basis. We don’t have to shy away from what is happening, and, at the same time, we don’t have to exaggerate it either. We could just accept the given situation and work with it directly and simply as it happens.

D
ISCUSSION

Saving Sentient Beings

Student:
The bodhisattva has committed himself to save all sentient beings, yet he himself is a sentient being. How is he different?

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche:
The bodhisattva has vision. He is already inspired, whereas, the others are not—so he has to work with them. As far as he is concerned, his salvation is there already; he doesn’t particularly have to cultivate it. What he has to cultivate is working with others who might lack his openness.

Overextending

S:
Rinpoche, you said that a bodhisattva should take care of his body and energy in order not to overextend himself. How can he do that without living a self-centered life?

CTR:
I think that comes naturally. A bodhisattva has a natural sense of the limits of his own physical strength. A bodhisattva wouldn’t punish himself or say, “That’s just my imagination, my comfort-oriented trip.” The difference between impulse and a real need would be quite obvious.

Taking the Bodhisattva Vow for the Wrong Reasons

S:
Could there be a problem if a person wants to take the bodhisattva vow for the wrong reasons?

CTR:
That’s possible.

S:
In a situation like that, would it make sense to leap over the uncertainty, or would that be a further obstacle and just add to the confusion?

CTR:
If the bodhisattva has a wrong attitude, there will naturally be some chaos creating obstacles to his journey. Things won’t fit together, things won’t fall into a workable situation. Obviously, instead of giving away his ego-oriented ambition, he is working toward Rudrahood.

Surrendering Ego

S:
You talked about the seriousness of deciding to make a leap. I’m wondering if it is possible, having made that leap, to realize you were wrong. If so, could you change directions at that point, or would it be better just to continue along as you are?

CTR:
I don’t think you can maneuver around it. You have to make a definite break, a fresh start. The problem is that you have not been able to surrender your ego. When you suddenly try to do so and get back to the right path, you cannot do it because there has been no basic generosity or surrendering. Sooner or later you have to be humiliated. Sooner or later your ego has to be humiliated. You have to face that. That requires an operation, a big jump, a drastic change. It requires that you not continue to follow the process you are on, but acknowledge that it is not a very positive approach. It requires that you come back and change your mind.

1
. This talk was given after the bodhisattva vow ceremony. The text for the bodhisattva vow is included as the appendix.

2
. A traditional text on the many ways a bodhisattva may fail to practice the six paramitas, translated by the Nālandā Translation Committee, can be found in the book
Training the Mind and Cultivating Loving-Kindness
by Chögyam Trungpa (Boston and London: Shambhala Publications, 1993), which is reprinted in this volume.

SIX

Identifying with the Teachings

T
HE SKILLFUL MEANS
of the bodhisattva extends to a sense of identifying with the practice. If there is no identification with the teachings and the practice of the bodhisattva—if a person has a purely intellectual relationship with the teachings and the hope that the spiritual friend may be able to guide him—there seems to be a discrepancy. The bodhisattva’s way is one of tremendous identification with the dharma. The dharma is no longer regarded as simply following the books, the scriptures, or the doctrine—dharma is following one’s own conviction. When such conviction has been awakened in the bodhisattva, the teachings become pure confirmation. That is a very important point.

If a person has not completely taken refuge in the dharma as a path and has not completely taken the vow in the way of the bodhisattva, there is still an impersonal attitude toward the teachings; so making a commitment is very complicated. In deciding whether you should commit yourself to the teachings or not, you are still thinking of it in terms of joining a club or society rather than as a real pursuit.

In relating with the teachings of the bodhisattva path, commitment means that a person has already surrendered the notion of intellectual speculation on the teachings. He or she has also surrendered the need for proof. So that person does not ask, “If I do this, what result am I going to gain?” He has given up such theorizing and searching for security. He has given up the need to know that what he is getting into is foolproof and really works. If you are buying a new gadget, there is no point in possessing that gadget if it doesn’t work. But the bodhisattva’s way has nothing at all to do with purchasing anything or joining a club—it is simply commitment to the practice and to the teachings. That commitment comes from the individual rather than from any external reinforcement.

The bodhisattva’s way of relating to the spiritual friend is similar, in that the spiritual friend is seen as the vanguard or spokesman of the teachings. As the bodhisattva works with the spiritual friend, he is also working with his own involvement and commitment to the teachings; so the spiritual friend and the teachings are complementary. Therefore, for the bodhisattva, making a definite decision to be involved with the spiritual friend is not a big deal, or the only hope he or she can latch on to. Neither is purely dealing with the teachings without the spiritual friend a big deal. They are complementary, both ways.

Basically, we could summarize the teachings of the bodhisattva path as a way of transcending aggression. You are working with aggression, and as you begin to work with aggression, that commitment becomes part of your practice. Doctrinal studies do not bring out your aggression, although doctrinal texts talk about how to deal with aggression; living life brings out aggression and speed. Leading your life automatically shows you how to relate with the complexities of your mental activities and emotions.

Identification with the teachings also means developing a sense of friendship with the doctrine. The teachings are regarded as a friendly message rather than reading a menu. When you read a menu, you develop a businesslike mentality. How much does it cost? Which is the most delicious food to order? You are rejecting one dish and ordering another dish. With a sense of friendliness toward the doctrine, or the dharma, you cannot pick and choose. It is a complete process. You can’t say, “I prefer generosity rather than patience, so I’ll have that.” For that matter, you cannot reject the hinayana and only accept the mahayana. You must begin with hinayana and slowly proceed along to the mahayana. If you are able to do that, that is the real demonstration of identification with the teachings.

As we identify with the teachings, at the same time we can also identify with the teacher, or the spiritual friend. However, there is a certain kind of watcher, a certain aggression, which keeps us from identifying with the teachings. It includes, for one thing, the businesslike mentality of always asking, “Which is the safest and best thing to do? What is the most efficient approach?” We watch ourselves developing or not developing, and when we get bored with what we are doing, we are always looking at possibilities of changing course. For instance, if we are bored with one class, we look into another class or another department.

There is also a sense of personal indignation, that you don’t want to be reduced into a nonexistent person. Each time the penetrating words of the teachings begin to come through, you feel personally humiliated. To the extent that you did not know these things and somebody else did—that somebody else knew better than you—you are constantly challenged. There is a sense of competition. Connected with this is that you want to impress your friends, your students, and other people. You are looking for topics or subjects you can use to impress people. You wouldn’t tell people, “I just read about this topic this morning,” but you would talk about it as if you had known it for a long time. All those situations—such as the sense of indignation, the sense of wanting to impress other people, or the sense of wanting to choose the best one—pervert the teachings. They are based on failing to identify with the teachings.

In the hinayana path, you are pushed into disciplines and there are all kinds of recommendations. The way of identifying with the dharma is to regard the dharma as a whip. The truth of suffering is somewhat external: it pushes you like a whip behind a slave. In the mahayana, it is much more open than that. It is only by identifying with the teachings that you are inspired—that is what pushes you. You are not taking refuge in the dharma as something external or purely a command; the dharma is something you identify yourself with. If there is any discrepancy or any doubt—“Should I get into it? Should I jump into it or shouldn’t I?”—that is a sign of being unable to identify with the teachings as the truth. The teachings are still regarded as taking out an insurance policy. It is still business mentality.

In the beginning of the bodhisattva path there is the development of maitri, making friends with oneself. Maitri is an experience. It is not that somebody is telling you how to make friends with yourself so you are pushed into it. That doesn’t happen. Rather you find yourself making friends. You have to make friends with yourself and see the logic that you are good or bad not as praise or threat but as something you have to work on. You can work on yourself.

Finding a spiritual friend is also a way of involving yourself with the teachings. The spiritual friend acts as a mirror reflection. Your doubts and hesitations are being thrown back at you, so you feel extremely threatened and confused. Your own private parts are exposed by the medium of the spiritual friend, in that mirror reflection. In that way, you develop further involvement with the teachings.

The development of compassion and the paramita practices of generosity, patience, discipline, and so forth, are also ways of involving yourself further with the teachings. Rather than being converted into this particular trip, there is a sense of constantly being challenged and having to get yourself involved. It is like eating and drinking. When you are hungry you eat food, when you are thirsty you drink water. It is not necessary that you believe or have faith in the food and water. You have a personal demand for food and water because food protects you from hunger, and water protects you from thirst. So you create the food and you create the water, rather than someone pushing you into eating and drinking. You feel a real need.

When you feel tired, you fall asleep—you feel your need to rest. Likewise with generosity, you feel your need to open more, so you get into being more generous. With discipline, you feel you need to put yourself in situations in which you can work with the details of life rather than frivolously ignoring the whole thing. So you get into discipline. Patience is also necessary, because without something to work with to develop patience, you feel constant boredom, constant loss of the substance of life. So you get into patience because you need to create further substance and solidity in your life. In regard to energy, working hard, you feel worn out. You feel used up by the sense of constant speed. Your energy has been lost, so you need to build it up—therefore you work hard, diligently.

Meditation is likewise. When your whole experience is scattered, with no structure, and your subconscious mind of discursive thoughts and emotions is shooting out all over the place, there is no focus, no paying attention. So you develop meditation—to simplify all those complications. With prajna, or knowledge, you begin to feel that you are so vague and diffused that there’s no definite understanding of things as they are. Because there is tremendous vagueness, you need to develop prajna, knowledge.

None of these paramita practices are imposed on you. It is not that somebody says it is good for you to practice the paramitas although it is painful. Paramita practice is something you feel you need. Paramita practice is like eating food when you are hungry, drinking water when you are thirsty, or resting when you are tired.