Sakyong Mipham Rimpoche

Breeze of Simplicity: Ruling Your World
Workshop held at Naropa University, Boulder, Colorado
November 17-19, 2006

Commentary by John Kineman

 

This is a report of a weekend course/retreat I attended with Sakyong Mipham (Rimpoche) on meditation in Buddhist practise.

I've been involved in meditation since 1985. By looking for "deeper" and deeper experiences I have focused on transpersonal and even out-of-body meditations that can place one in a very high state of bliss. Unfortunately this can also lead to its opposite. I was troubled in recent years by the fact that I seemed to fall out of that place of blissful consciousness. I did not know the cause, except that certain worldly events had "gotten to me." The bliss and optimism may have been real, but the container they were in was still vulnerable. This was profoundly discouraging, as one hopes that spiritual attainment will transform one's life forever. But not so in my case, apparently. I am now recapturing glimpses of that blissful consciousness I once ejoyed more continuously. Paradise lost, so to speak. And I have been wondering what was the cause of this loss, and how I can do better this time around.

The workshop helped me see that there are many forms of meditation and contemplative practice that really need to be integrated across all levels of reality. Reality is much too vast and incomprehensible for us to capture it in one idea or method alone, and to attempt to do so leaves gaps that can surface later. The fantastic highs of a disembodied meditation, if pursued exclusively, can lead to fantastic lows as one comes crashing back into the body and the everyday world that itself has not been transformed in one's awareness. It is the same thing when one encounters familiar people who instead of appearing in the new joyous light of one's private experience, serves only to remind us of the old darkness and unhealed past we left, dramatically but not finally. This sort of experience is high drama that only increases suffering for all. It is a new kind of spiritual illusion in which one sees enlightenment as one's own attainment but has not transfered it to change the world. It is often said that "first I must get this awareness, then I will have something to give." This, however, is a terrible mistake. One "gets" what one practices, not what might logically follow. The exclusive pursuit of a separate peace, produces a highly separated state of bliss that becomes even more highly vulnerable

The Mahayana Buddhists are very concerned with transforming both the worldly dramas and that kind of spiritual drama that would set one apart from an "evil" world. The goal is to transform these into a pervasive and steady experience of pure joy and surrender to life, learning to see its innate peace and beauty rather than the illusion of darkness that we can place over it. This is quite different from being blissed-out and highly "sensitive" to "negative stuff" that we perceive. One who is truly in joy can balance spiritual and everyday life. One who is truly sensitive, is sensitive not only to suffering - and thus develops true compassion - but also to its solution - seeing both as an undivided whole, and thus remaining balanced and available. It is neither a high nor a low, but a constant presence of goodness and availability.

This is probably the highest level of enlightenment imagined by Mahayana Buddism, as characterized by the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva takes the sacred vow: "May I attain Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings." Buddhahood is thus neither above nor below the Bodhisattva. They are one in the same, for Buddha's motivation was also to end the suffering of all sentient beings. The state of mind he attained is called Buddhahood, but put into practise it is enlightenment characterized by the Bodhisattva. The distant realm of complete liberation from the cycle of birth and death, as in Hindu and Vedantic philosophy, is an imagined realm equivalent to the pure mind of God apart from any material existence. But that is an imagined place, because God cannot be comprehended and also cannot be said to be apart from material existence, being necessarily (by our definition) in everything and present everywhere. So, complete escape is an imagined state -- the highest mental attainment that is theoretically possible, aside from the natural extension of that state of oneness into a realm of experience (the world). So, this is called Buddhahood in a Platonic sense, in a mind that is separate from body, but not in its more complete meaning, which is always connected to the whole of creation.

Buddhahood, or God consciousness, as such, is necessary for true enlightenment, because it brings about true perception of the material realm, true compassion, and dharmic action; but it cannot exist in isolation becaue it naturally extends itself. I think it is not even a choice as depicted in the stories of the Bodhisattva. The wholeness of creation and the separateness of it are just two complementary aspects of it - one does not precede the other and they are never apart from each other, and yet neither can be expressed or comprehended in terms of the other. It is the fundamental duality, of which only the most ultimate imaginable (thinkable, conceivable in symbols and ideas, etc., i.e., mental) origin of which must be non-dual. This is conceptuall limit for those who approach it from thought -- the purest realm of the divine source - the "luminous Being" in Vedanta -- or the indescribable void in Zen. Perhaps it is also the zero-point energy in Physics. Perhaps it can be experienced directly in states of meditation, but this may still be a partial experience if it is not connected and integral with one's entire existence on all levels. It is not a simple matter to imagine or describe something as "ultimate" as this.

Thus, iIn Mahayana Buddism, Buddhahood is not separate from Being, which is consciousnes but also life and existence. The two together produces and is embodied by the Bodhisattva. Jesus is sometimes called a true Bodhisattva - one who, knowing his true nature, purpose, and invulnerability, is one who can and will go to any length to end the suffering of others. Again we must think, is this a distant goal that I will attain after I get my own bliss? Will I spend years practising a private bliss and then discover that I am fully integrated with life? Or do we get what we practise?

The Workshop

It was a very interesting two and a half days. There was a balance between teaching and practice. I learned a lot and realized that there are many levels, some contemplating our higher human values and others connecting to our environment and body. In my previous experience of meditation I had approached it on multiple levels but I thought these were a progressiong from begining stages to the ultimate "it." I thought, as in Hinduism, that the goal was to eventually leave the physical realm and experience our "True" nature outside the body. What I learned was that this kind of meditation can as easily be a trap as any other, if not integrated at all levels of Beingness.

Rimpoche emphasized the idea of balance between Heaven and Earth, meaning the material and the mindful. Meditation, in this tradition, is balance and "getting used to" or "becoming familiar with" all aspects of reality, including our own intentions for compassion and good deeds. Through meditation we become accustomed to these values at all levels simultaneously. While contemplating on goodness as a pure idea, we combine that with practising it with a real person; perhaps one who is easy to start with ("when building a fire, why start with wet wood?"). We build our capacity on all levels, and it is said that even after many lifetimes of this effort, one cannot be guaranteed complete enlightenment. The goal itself is an ego trip that would take us away from our duty. Hence it is an ineffable awareness that decides when we are done, and one is only done when the mind is so thoroughly trained that it has no desire at all to be done - it has total willingness to perform this function for however long is needed.

Earth refers to the manifest realm of material objects and measurable events, whereas Heaven refers to all that is not that and yet still effective. This includes all the contents of what we call mind, as well as subconscioius, superconscious, on up to divine consciousness and the primoridal energy/void which Hindus call Brahman and which the Upanishads call the "Luminous Being." Heaven and Earth thus refer to the basic duality between subjective and objective, knower and what can be known, etc. It occurred to me in this workshop, however, that the centuries-old dichotomy of "mind and body" does not describe this duality very well. There appears to be a third realm where "we" can be aware of both of these things, and hence a realm of "we" or "I". We didn't touch on that much in this begining class, except to recognize it is there and that in meditation there must be developed a distinct sense of who's having the experience, and why. One becomes aware of the mind through thoughts and the body through sensations. One, one. Who is that? The Hindus and Vedic texts refer to it as the "Atma," or True Self. But in the Buddist tradition, also derived from Hinduism and Vedanta, the focus on this inner Self is less explicit, less personified. The Self is discovered through the process of awareness at many levels, including body, mind, and being. The True self is all of these and none of them, but we find that Self only through direct experience.

A "mudra" form of meditation (dance or yoga form, like martial arts) goes through symbolic movements bringing Heaven and Earth together. This also represents integration of one's consciousness and being (which includes physical being but is not limited to it). Or, as Ekart Tolle (Power of Now) speaks of, the integration of manifested and unmanifested realities. Ultimately Mipham did not rank one level of meditation above another - they are all important for getting in touch with different aspects of reality. He cited the wisdom of thousands of years of Buddhist meditiation as emphasizing the integration of all levels of awareness, without which one may have "too much heaven" (i.e. ungrounded mind, even if this is experienced as the highest form of mind) or "too much earth" (which is taking the physical realm too seriously). The result of separating these levels and meditating only on the dis-embodied experience can be great blissful highs followed by terrible crashes. The reason is lack of integration and balance. Buddha is said to have attained enlightenment only when he stopped trying to deny or escape the body and physical realm. In this one trades the high, blissful out-of-body experience, which must come crashing back into the body, for the pure joy and lightness of being that results from true integration of one's awareness at all levels.

This teaching rather appealed to me, because I have long felt some discomfort with the image of the Indian ascetic, emaciated and near death in a grossly impoverished, septic, and unkept environment, supposedly reaching the highest state of spiritual bliss. This did not seem right to me. There seemed to me something profoundly missing in this image (which is not so uncommon in imagery and thought in some of the more literal Hindu traditions). While this may seem like a wonderful accomplishment - i.e., he obviously is no longer affected by the world - it is referred to disparagingly by Mahayanists as "a private Buddah", which is one who finds only an isolated and separate bliss, not shared with others and destined to crash when there is again contact with the material world. It is an isolated enlightenment, perhaps as deep as any but in a limited sphere where it cannot exist long, like the 'true love' we may have experiened in High School, only to discover it was vulnerable (but hopefully not to conclude it wasn't love!). In this philosophy, what goes up must come down.

If one leaves "the world" (of manifest nature), one must return into it (the Bodhisattva). While tradition represents this as a choice the Bodhisattva made once he reached enlightenment or Buddahood, metaphysically it is not a choice but a necessity. For one may reason that if a world of experience is possible, it must be part of the creation to allow this, and thus part of the Creator's Will; and if one then rises out of it to become one with God, what would one do differently from God, from whom/which came a world of experience? Would the seeker of God rise above Him? In fact, the ascetic's bliss can be seen as a purely mental attainment. But because it has not at all been integrated with life it remains disconnected and ultimately vulnerable. It is probably fair to say that in Mahayana Buddism, the way out of life is through life. Escape, if there is any such thing, does not leave the world, but rather it transforms it into Heaven. Then one is in Heavenly bliss that cannot be shaken.

Mipham wrote two books that were recommended as part of this workshop. The first is titled "Turning the Mind into an Ally." The second, and focus of this session, is "Ruling Your World." This is not to be taken in an egoic sense, but in the sense of gaining control of the mind instead of letting it control you. I was tempted to associate the "monkey mind" that is spoken of in the East with the "ego" of our New Age Western philosophy. But apparently Manayana Buddhists do not personalize it as much in this way, or turn it into a separate entity. To do that does what I referred to above, it adds awareness but at the cost of creating a duality. A Course in Miracles deals with this by saying the ego is an illusion, not a reality, and hence it disappears without any need to fight it when one enters into true perception. In the workshop, ego was not really distinguished at all - in a sense already accepting its non-existence - but instead, we focused on awareness of what aspect of mind that is in control, the monkey or the trainer. It is as if we could say the uncontrolled mind runs itself and creates all the illusions of ego; whereas the controlled mind, under a superior will, has no ego, but does have the ability to think and act through true intention.

What one meditates on can include some thought of ultimate goodness (contemplative meditation), one's purpose, or one's own body sensations. By meditating on the entire spectrum, one learns to tolerate life and others and to bring the highest states of consciousness into one's everyday life. This, according to Rinpoche, is the foundation that is necessary to develop true compassion and true joy, for without acceptance and love for all in this life, how can anyone be compassionate? To cure suffering, one must understand it, and to understand suffering one must also understand its cure. This awareness may indeed transcend the separated thouhts of the world, but it is a deep recognition of the real world without those separating thoughts, and that world is in reality the same one, right here, now (as Ram Dass or Ekart Tolle might say). It is the world of actual experience rather than the world of one's mental (or spiritual) images. It is thus not a disembodied awareness nor is is separate from one's surroundings.

The reality of the mind was not discussed very much, but rather taken that we intuitively know what is meant by mind. Some Vedic gurus speak of mind as "a collection of desires" and advocate that it should be destroyed (e.g., "Die Mind" - Sathya Sai Baba). While this certainly can be understood in a certain way, it seems the Buddhist approach is to define mind with any type of experience, including the divine. Where, after all, does one draw the line between that aspect of mind that should be destroyed and the part to keep? We can call it discrimination between right and wrong throughts, "purity" and "impurity" of thought, etc. But these all lead to the same dualism where evil is made real and then rejected but ultimatly not rejected because it is still the object of attention, rejection, fear, and guilt. Better, the Mahayanist says, to not reject it but enlist it. After all, if it is there, it may be wise to find its proper use. What one rails against, only becomes stronger.

Some reference was made to small vs. big mind. In other words, when we are aware of our thoughts there are two minds, the "monkey mind" we become aware of, and the one who is aware. The point, however, is not to create additional dualities. It is essential to develop this subject and object separation to become aware, but that awareness is then used to understand and practice the unity of all. This seems to present a delightful paradox, but it also explains why many different meditation practises are used, each connecting with a different aspect of one's being. We become aware, which creates duality, we meditate, which brings integration.

In the workshop we were taught five forms of meditation; sitting, standing, walking, dancing, and contemplating. Transcendental experiences might be seen to lie outside these practices, i.e., beyond the material world or the body, but in fact by becoming totally present here, now, with what one is sensing on all levels, a truer transcendence occurs that carries all levels with it, rather than escaping them only to have them again when you return to experience. By focusing on what is happening in one's total experience, one gains control of the mind. It can be "placed" where one wants. It can be stopped and started in its thinking. It can be equally at home in an environment of quiet or chaos.

Who is doing this, who is watching and experiencing? This identity develops as a subtle awareness of one's Self, and in this aspect I think it reconnects with other practices. There is not a direct emphasize on the "I" within (or Atma in Vedanta or Christ in Christianity). This diffuse view of "I" is not just an early stage. The idea of a True Self is present, but as a subtle awareness of who the doer is, impossible to see directly because we are the doer. Like stargazing, because of the characteristics of the eye, looking directly at a faint object will make it harder to see than looking off to the side a bit. One is more clearly aware of it by not looking directly at it. This is called averted vision. It is true also for the Self. The reason is we are looking at the one who is looking, and so attempting to see something that is all inclusive. But the very act of seeing returns us to a subject and an object. If it is imaged or symbolized directly, it becomes itself an object of attention, and hence no longer whole. We lose the very thing we are looking at, just like the faint star.

In Mahayana the awareness of Self is allowd to emerge rather than being forced into one's awareness. Because we have no faculty for "seeing" the "ultimate" reality - not even the "third eye" - the very attempt requires that it be seen through symbols - words, images, or forms. The mind immediately places it into symbolic form as soon as one gives it direct attention. And while these symbols can be great attractors and motivators, too much focus directly on them is in fact focusing on a mental concept or image, not the reality itself. Letting the image go can become a great problem. If instead one focuses on setting aside all concepts, impressions, and images; an awareness grows of WHO is setting these things aside. A tremendous knowing of Self results, that did not come about by attempting to know or describe the Self, which ultimately is indescribable.