enlightenment

On focus…
by

On focus…

I will abandon laziness for which life has no time,

enter, undistracted, the path of listening and hearing,

reflection and contemplation, and meditation,

making perceptions and mind the path,

and realize the “three kayas”: the enlightened mind.

Now that l have once attained a human body,

there is no time on the path for the mind to wander.

Guru Rinpoche Padmasambhava

i. What does this mean to me?

I’m on a mission this year. My goal is to knit 75 hats and scarves by winter time to be donated. Before this my knitting was different. I’d have two or three projects going at the same time. I guess you could say I wasn’t focused. I would just knit whatever I felt like working on whenever I sat down to knit. But it’s different now. Somewhere out there are seventy-five people that I could make the winter more comfortable for. With this in mind, I only have one project going at a time – the hats and scarves. Even though it’s only July, I feel a sense of urgency about this project. You could say I’m more focused.

In these last two lines the writer lets us know that “. . . there is no time on the path for the mind to wander”. Why is that? Because the writer has “…attained a human body.” What does this mean? Is the writer a werewolf who turns into a wolf at full moons? I think it’s far simpler than that. We have this expression in our daily speech, “In my former life, I was . . .”. For me it would be “In my former life I lived in South Florida, land of hurricanes and tropical depressions.”

For better or worse, we are always changing. Was I more human when I lived in Florida? I would say I was a different human because that was a kind of Hell realm for me. The suffering was so intense that all I could think about was self-preservation.

Whether or not you believe that your karmic stream continues after the death of the physical body, we can understand what the writer is saying here. He is at a point in his life where simply surviving is not his whole concern. Now he can turn to the concerns of being human. What is our responsibility as human beings in samsara? It is nothing less than the liberation and enlightenment of every sentient being in samsara. Is this possible in the span of one’s lifetime? Probably not. But it is a sufficient goal to bring our minds into focus. As the writer tells us, “There is no time on the path for the mind to wander.” Not when liberation and enlightenment of every being is the whole of the path.

ii. How would I explain this to someone else?

I’d start by saying that the mind is very easy to distract when there is nothing to focus on. What if you wanted to become a race car driver? You’d be all over the internet researching. Google would be your best friend. You’d visit racetracks just to see what goes on there. You would have no end of questions.

In these lines the writer reminds us that the mind works best when focused. For most of us, we go through life focused on things that are mere distractions to the mind. Having encountered the Dharma in this life, and having had the chance to study the Dharma, there is no time to waste.

Once we realize this, our best option is to walk the path without distraction. Wherever we encounter a being suffering in samsara, this is our chance to put the Dharma to work. When we have this kind of focus in our lives, the path becomes our life, and our life becomes the path. The path is a process that proceeds gradually, with our every act a step on the way to liberation and enlightenment.

iii. How do I bring this into my life?

No matter what we believe about our lifetime, we are always beginning anew in every brand new moment. These moments taken together make what we call a ‘life’. In my former life, I had absolutely no time to study anything or even think of anything except my own survival from moment to moment. The uncertainty and fear in my life crowded out all other concerns.

But now, I have had the amazing good fortune of studying the Dharma. I’d like to say that in this new life I take every possible moment to learn and study the Dharma. This isn’t the case. Like most, my mind is distracted by samsara. But as I move through this life and live the path, I make a deliberate effort to remember that we are all suffering in samsara.

I bring this into my life by deliberately bringing to mind that there is no time to waste now that I have the Dharma in my life. I follow this strong intention by making the most of each encounter with a sentient being. I treat them with empathy and respect and most importantly I remind myself over and over that there is no time to waste. Even in the smallest quickest encounter with a sentient being we have a chance to make a difference.

On the fruit of purification. . .
by

On the fruit of purification. . .

The basis of purification is the universal-ground primordial awareness, like the sky;

the incidental stains are the object of purification, like clouds;

the purifying agent is the truth of the path, like a relentless wind;

and the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment, like the sky free of clouds.

What does this mean to me?

When I lived in Florida, there was a mango tree in the backyard. And every summer it bore mangos. Never once did I go back there and expect to see an orange hanging from a branch. No. Of course not. The true nature of the tree is its mango-ness. If the tree is properly maintained it will bear mangos.

So too with enlightenment. Our prayer in the second line says that the objects of purification are “incidental stains”. If the tree becomes marked up in some way, we recognize those markings are not part of the tree. They’re just incidental stains. All we have to do is carefully clean it and it will still bear mangos. The third line speaks of a purifying agent that is like a “relentless wind”. By the time we get to the fourth line, we are ready to bear the “fruit of purification” which is “Perfect Enlightenment.”

I don’t remember ever seeing a perfect mango. But I do remember that every single fruit was purely a mango. It wasn’t mixed with anything else. From the seed at the core to the soft flesh to the protecting skin, it was perfectly mango through and through.

This short portion of the prayer talks about purifying or purification in four out of four lines. For such a short portion of the prayer, it really hones in on the idea of purification, what needs to be purified, and then finally the fruit of purification. Although it seems to beleaguer a point, a mango tree is exactly that – a tree that if properly cultivated (or purified) will inevitably bear mangos.

When we talk about enlightenment, it’s no different. The prayer starts out by telling us that the “basis of purification” is primordial enlightenment. The quality of enlightenment is already there. Or else what would be the point of purification? We take for granted that a lemon tree will bear lemons, a pear tree will bear pears, and so on. We never step back and say “hmmm. . . it’s a lemon tree, why isn’t it bearing cherries?”

The last line of this portion of the prayer comes right out and says that “the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment”. Why is this possible? Because we are already enlightened. The clear blue sky of our enlightenment is obscured by clouds. But that doesn’t mean that on a cloudy day, the sky is somehow gone, does it? It’s merely obscured by clouds like wrong views and afflicted emotions. But with the right cultivation or “purification”, that clear blue sky of enlightenment is right there, as it always has been and always will be.

How would I explain this to someone else?

 Imagine that you wanted to plant a field of sunflowers. There’s a whole process, right? First you prepare the ground, then you plant the seeds, you water it, cultivate it and voila! Sunflowers.

Enlightenment is nothing like this. As our prayer tells us, “the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment.” It’s already whole, already complete, already there. It’s more like wearing a very dirty pair of eyeglasses in a field of sunflowers. Once you remove the glasses (the obscurations) you immediately see the sunflowers. They are already there, already whole and perfect, and needing nothing to be added.

If this is true, you might wonder, why are we not fully and completely enlightened right now? Well, that’s kind of a trick question. We are at this very moment fully and completely enlightened. It’s like the dirty glasses I described. We’ve worn those glasses for innumerable lifetimes. And for many of us, we have no awareness that they’re even there. We take for granted that the distorted view through the glasses is reality as it truly is.

As I’ve already pointed out, this short section of the prayer talks about purifying and purification no less than four times in four lines. What’s so important about that? The Dharma or the “truth of the path” is all important in even coming to the realization that our view of reality is distorted. So much so that we don’t even know what true reality looks like.

Yet here we are in samsara day in and day out convinced that all we perceive has some inherent truth to it. This why is the Dharma has to be a “relentless wind” in samsara. We must let go of this belief. And once we do, our prayer tells us that enlightenment is inevitable. It tells us unequivocally that “the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment”. When we follow the Dharma it is inevitable that we will experience the clear blue sky of our Perfect Enlightenment.

How do I bring this into my life?

There are some rough days when I’d like to get on a plane, not to go anywhere in particular. No. What I’d like to do is fly above the clouds and just see that clear, unobstructed blue sky.

When samsara wears me down, as it sometimes does, it feels like I’ll never get those glasses clean, never mind be able to take them off.  When this happens I’d like to say there’s a prayer I say, or I get out my prayer beads, or squeeze in a quick meditation. I don’t do any of those things. Even with all I’ve studied, even with all the insights I’ve had, I turn to samsara for relief. It could be anything – eating, watching YouTube, or even scrolling Facebook.

It usually takes about five to ten minutes of this before I feel myself sinking into the torpor of samsara. This instantly wakes me up. I instantly remember the suffering of living in samsara and unquestioningly believing my experience of reality. At that moment, I shift my focus to compassion both for myself and for those wandering lost in samsara with no idea of the Dharma. And I say a prayer that is very grounding for me, “May all be free of suffering and the causes of suffering. May all embrace happiness and the causes of happiness. . .” Doing this act of compassion for myself and others immediately draws my attention back to the Dharma and I bring that compassion to the path.

I feel sometimes that enlightenment is like a subtle, never-ending heartbeat. A heartbeat that has gone on through all our lifetimes and will continue through all our lifetimes to come. Like a cloud free sky, Perfect Enlightenment is always there ready to be realized, ready to give us glimpses when we’re receptive.

When I began working with this prayer I believed that we were like Perfect Enlightenment. Now I understand that we are Perfect Enlightenment simply being uncovered one tiny glimpse at a time.

On the relentless wind. . .
by

On the relentless wind. . .

The basis of purification is the universal-ground primordial awareness, like the sky;

the incidental stains are the object of purification, like clouds;

the purifying agent is the truth of the path, like a relentless wind;

and the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment, like the sky free of clouds.

What does this mean to me?

I lived in South Florida for around ten years. Hurricane season was the absolute worst. The scariest part was hunkering down inside behind your boarded up windows and listening to that raging wind for hours at a time. It was relentless.

Our prayer starts by saying, “the basis of purification” is “primordial awareness, like the sky”. Primordial enlightenment is like a cloud-free sky. The prayer goes on to say that “incidental stains” are what need to be purified.

The third line talks about a “purifying agent” that will clear away the incidental stains such as wrong views and afflicted emotions. So the prayer begins by telling us that our true nature is enlightenment, like a clear blue sky. But there are clouds or “incidental stains” tainting that blue sky.

This very much reminds me of digging up an ancient golden coin. When you first look at it, it’s all stained up with grime and dirt. You know you’ll need all kinds of cleansers to remove decades or maybe even centuries of clinging dirt.

Our true nature of enlightenment is like that dirt encrusted coin. We have spent lifetime after lifetime acquiring the encrusted dirt of wrong views and afflicted emotions. Again the prayer is telling us that enlightenment isn’t something to be sought out, but rather something inherent in us that needs to be uncovered.

That sounds pretty daunting, doesn’t it? How do we remove lifetimes of dirt and grime to uncover our true nature? Our prayer outright tells us that “that the purifying agent is the truth of the path” and it’s like a “relentless wind”, just like a hurricane.

How would I explain this to someone else?

Christianity has the idea that ‘sins’ can be washed away by ‘the blood of the lamb [Jesus]’. Thankfully no one has to be crucified for us to uncover our true nature.

Samsara is a realm of struggle and desire. We are forever struggling to fulfill some desire or other. And sadly, even when we get what we thought we wanted, it’s never what we thought it would be. When I was a little girl I watched a lot of Star Trek. I thought it was so cool how they had a talking computer. All they had to do to make things work was press buttons on a console.

Watching that show, I promised myself that when I grew up, I’d have a job where I pressed lots and lots of buttons. Well, here I am some decades later and practically all I do at work is press buttons. Is it everything I thought it would be? I can assure you I’m not visiting different planets every week. Heck, I don’t leave home to go to work.

This on a small somewhat childish scale is what those lost in samsara do for lifetime after lifetime. Sadly, chasing after struggle and desire only leads to suffering. Fortunately , we have the “truth of the path” to cleanse away the incidental stains we have from living in samsara.

What is “the truth of the path”? We call this the Dharma. This is the only cleansing agent we need to uncover our true nature. But how does it work? Is it abrasive like a brillo pad, scrubbing away at us constantly? Well, yes and no. We’re all caught up in the illusions of samsara. There are lifetimes of ground in dirt covering up our true nature.

The Dharma, our prayer tells us, is like a “relentless wind”. I’ve never been in a storm in the desert, but I imagine that anything left out in that sand laden wind would be scrubbed pretty clean. The Dharma is not meant to lull us into a comfortable sleep. We are already asleep. No. The Dharma works to wake us up from the nightmare that is samsara.

How do I bring this into my life?

I have a confession to make. I just adore that snooze feature on my phone. I actually set my alarm for earlier than I need to get up. Why? Because snooze button. The Dharma is like an alarm clock, a warning to wake up! So many people press the snooze button. They say, “I don’t have time to meditate” or “I’m too busy to study the Dharma” or “I’ve got kids. I don’t have a spare moment in my day.” But the Dharma is undeterred. Like a relentless wind, it will blow until you awaken.

Before I began studying the Dharma, I always had this deep seated feeling of being dissatisfied. Not just with my life. It extended to everything. It never gave me a moment’s peace. I felt as though I was wandering a desert, sand as far as the eye could see, a blazing sun overhead. And no matter how much water I drank, I’d be just as thirsty. It would give no relief.

I’d like to say that when I began studying the Dharma, that feeling immediately went away. It didn’t. But gradually over the course of about a year of study, I was less and less dissatisfied. And I can pinpoint the reason. I came to rely less and less on samsara for my sense of satisfaction. I began to experience tiny glimpses of my Buddha Nature.

Don’t get me wrong. I still get caught up in the illusions of samsara, but there’s always a part of my mind that in some way, doesn’t get wholly caught up anymore.

Today when I see people completely caught up in the quagmire of samsara, I do the only thing I know how to do. I recite my go to prayer, “May all be free from suffering and the causes of suffering. May all embrace happiness and the causes of happiness.” Doing this brings me a measure of peace, and I pray it brings peace to others.

There’s a story told of children playing inside a burning house. Their father is outside urgently exhorting them to come out. But the children are very distracted. Today it would be Netflix, iPhones, x-boxes, Instagram, or X fka Twitter.

This again is the relentless wind of the Dharma trying to wake people from the stupor of samsara. And the funny thing is if we simply go in the direction of that relentless wind, things get easier, less exhausting. We’re no longer devoting so much energy to upholding the illusions of samsara.

If we allow ourselves to be caught up in the relentless wind of the Dharma, we will find more and more of the illusions of samsara falling away. We will experience the great wind setting us free of the incidental stains left by samsara. We will find the true nature of our primordial enlightenment uncovered bit by bit. And bit by bit, we will be free of the illusions of samsara.


On incidental stains. . .
by

On incidental stains. . .

The basis of purification is the universal-ground primordial awareness, like the sky;

the incidental stains are the object of purification, like clouds;

the purifying agent is the truth of the path, like a relentless wind;

and the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment, like the sky free of clouds.

What does this mean to me?

White is not my color. No matter what I do or how careful I am, I always manage to stunningly stain whatever piece of white clothing I wear. This line of the prayer talks about stains. Interestingly, if we go back, the prayer tells us in the first line that the basis of purification is primordial enlightenment, which is stain-free. There’s nothing to add. Nothing to subtract. It is whole and complete.

The second line of the prayer tells us that any stain on this “primordial awareness” is simply incidental. What are these “stains”? The two biggest stains, or distortions that keep our ever-present enlightened nature hidden are wrong views and afflicted emotions. Why does the prayer call these things “incidental” stains?

One of the definitions of ‘incidental’, according to our local friendly AI is, “accompanying but not a major part of something.” When we look at a red stain on a white surface, we experience the illusion that a portion of the surface is actually red, not white.

However, the quality of whiteness remains. If it didn’t, we could never wash the cloth clean. Our prayer says that the stains to be purified are merely “incidental”. They are not part of the “primordial awareness” that is enlightenment, but rather wholly unrelated. When we look at a stained surface, do we believe the stain is part of the surface, or merely incidental, like red wine on a white tablecloth? We understand the stain overlays the white color of the cloth.

Enlightenment is no different. Wrong views and afflicted emotions may seem to exist on their own. But truthfully, those incidental stains merely overlay our inherent nature.

How would I explain this to someone else?

Our prayer is very specific about a “primordial” awareness, leaving no doubt that enlightenment pre-existed what we think of as ‘me’. Caught up in the illusions of samsara, we believe the distortions of our wrong views and afflicted emotions accurately represent reality. Our inherent true being is Buddha Nature. The more we cover that up with wrong views of ‘me’ and ‘mine’, or act on our afflicted emotions, the more we cover up our true nature with stains, the more we suffer.

Imagine you had a sparkling clean white ball. Then you roll it in mud. Does that actually change the color of the ball? No. But because of how our afflicted emotions and wrong views work, we now see a brown ball, rather than a white ball covered in mud. And for lifetime after lifetime we have practiced this view to the point where we forget the ball is actually white. Truthfully, the mud is an incidental stain. It is not part of the ball. It is merely covering up the ball’s true color of white.

When it comes to enlightenment, it works the same way. Our prayer comes right out and tells us, “. . .the incidental stains are the object of purification.” We don’t need to be purified in some mysterious way to realize our enlightened nature any more than the ball needs to be dyed white. It is white. All we have to do is remove the mud of wrong views and afflicted emotions, both by-products of being born in samsara.

How do I bring this into my life?

I grew up Christian. In that religion you’re taught there is something inherently bad about you because you were ‘born in sin’. In my adult life, I refute that. I have experienced Buddha Nature in myself and others. In those moments of overwhelming compassion, I understand that enlightenment is primordial, already there.

When we see someone laboring under the delusions of samsara and suffering greatly, our Buddha Nature realizes something is wrong. Suffering is not inherent to what we are. It is an incidental stain upon our primordial enlightenment.

In samsara we have the Dharma as our guide to who we truly are. Does that mean we’ll wake up one day and float instead of walk? No. But it does mean that with the Dharma we can come to understand that what we experience in samsara is illusion. We can learn to see things as they truly are.

This happens to me in the ordinary course of my life. I could be in the supermarket, in traffic, or getting gas. Suddenly my experience of samsara will shift. And I notice that we are all, in some essential way, asleep. And we’re so caught up in the nightmare that we forget reality as it truly is even exists.

When I have these fleeting moments of insight, I pray that all may be free of suffering and the causes of suffering and that all may embrace happiness and the causes of happiness. In those few seconds I’m aware there is no ‘me’, no ‘them’, no separation.

Everyone has these moments of insight. The reason we’re all able to have these moments is that our true nature is always trying to shine through the mud of samsara. As my teacher the Venerable Tashi Nyima says, “It’s not going to be okay, it’s okay right now”. And that’s because enlightenment is never more than a breath away.

On the basis . . .
by

On the basis . . .

The basis of purification is the universal-ground primordial awareness, like the sky;

the incidental stains are the object of purification, like clouds;

the purifying agent is the truth of the path, like a relentless wind;

and the fruit of purification is Perfect Enlightenment, like the sky free of clouds.

What does this mean to me?

It’s said that enlightenment is inevitable. How can it be that something we don’t understand will inevitably happen to us? The closest understanding we have of this is what we call ‘death’.

We all understand the inevitability of death, although we don’t understand death itself. Why is death inevitable? It’s our karma that caused us to be born into a human body. And that body is subject to birth, aging, disease, and death.  

Enlightenment is not subject to cessation. It doesn’t arise, doesn’t go, it simply is. Our prayer says the basis of purification (or enlightenment) is the “…primordial awareness…” that inherently dwells within us just as the sky is always there whether we see it or not. It’s been a while, so I had to look up primordial. My friendly AI tells me that primordial means “first created or developed, or existing from the beginning.”

Our prayer says that “The basis of purification” is the “…universal-ground primordial awareness…”. The prayer tells us in the very first line, ‘No need to go searching for enlightenment. It’s already there.’ All we have to do is become aware of it.

How would I explain this to someone else?

How often do we notice the sky? I don’t mean because of bad weather. I mean how often do we come to a literal halt and turn our full attention to the sky? For me, it’s almost exclusively when a hurricane is coming. Once you see those circling clouds, it’s something you never forget.

On a regular day in our lives, do we forget the sky is there? Of course not. The sky is in our peripheral vision anytime we go outside. Go to any window and there it is – the sky just doing its thing. It’s there when we wake up, and we take for granted that it will be there tomorrow and the next day, and so on.

Enlightenment is very much the same way. It is always there because it’s primordial, it came first. So how come it feels like enlightenment is a bridge too far? Not me, I say to myself.  For those people in the scriptures from forever ago, sure, enlightenment was happening all the time. But me? Enlightened? No. Not happening. Sometimes it feels like I’m so entangled in the swamps of samsara, so lost in the distractions of my mind that enlightenment seems distant, even fantastical.

But our prayer tells us this is not so. Enlightenment has no beginning, no end. It simply is. Everyone’s mind in each lifetime comes into existence with primordial enlightenment already there. It’s the clouds of our own wrong views and afflicted emotions that stop us from seeing the clear blue sky of enlightenment that is always there.

How do I bring this into my life?

You know when you get really mad at someone for wronging you somehow?  When that happens to me, in the first few seconds, I forget everything. I forget enlightenment is inevitable for all beings. I forget everyone has Buddha Nature. I forget there is no true separation between ‘me’ and the ‘other’ person. In those crucial seconds, I want nothing more than to open my mouth and let my anger have at them.

Over the years, with practice, I’ve learned that absolutely never should I open my mouth when I feel like that. Ever. As soon as the first few seconds pass, it all comes back to me. We all stand under the same sky. We all will be inevitably enlightened. We all have the same Buddha Nature.

The place where I get the most practice is at work. Sometimes when people call, I can barely get my name out before they start yelling at me. And believe me when I tell you, they have a lot to say.

Even after years of practice, the first thing I want to do is light the powder keg of my temper and yell right back. But I wait out those few seconds by repeating mantra. Anyone will do. As soon as that urgency to react passes, I can see clearly. I remember everything. I remember that we all suffer in samsara. Every one of us wants to be happy.

With that realization comes the remembrance that we all have Buddha Nature. Inevitably we will all realize our true nature, and in that moment we’ll know that enlightenment has never been more than a heartbeat away.

In real time, this happens in moments. As soon as I remember, my compassionate heart takes over.  I remind myself that I have the capacity to be peaceful, to act with equanimity, to be compassionate.  This brings a measure of peace to the interaction.

We all have this capacity to remember. We all have the capacity to realize that enlightenment isn’t something to be achieved, it is something to be uncovered. Because, like the sky, it’s always there.

On enlightenment. . .
by

On enlightenment. . .

May all be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May all embrace happiness and the causes of happiness.
May all abide in peace, free from self grasping.
May all attain the union of wisdom and compassion.

What does this mean to me?

Although we’ve mostly forgotten, “wisdom” has its roots in vision. Not just any vision, but the ability to see things as they truly are. Compassion lets us act on wisdom in a way that reduces suffering.

Wisdom without compassion is like a doctor whose bedside manner could use a little improvement. Imagine your doctor, truthfully, said to you, “You’ve got three months to live. That’s the end of our appointment. Schedule a follow up at the front desk on your way out.” Does the doctor know lots and lots of stuff? He sure does. But his bedside manner – yikes! I don’t think this even rises to the level of wisdom. This is simply knowledge. When we have true wisdom we understand that wisdom without compassion is cruel.

When we have compassion, we feel for the sufferings of our fellow travelers in samsara. But what does that really mean? For me, the biggest part of compassion is generosity. Whether it’s sharing your skills, giving what’s needed, or seeing to it that a turkey survives Thanksgiving.

How would I explain this to someone else?

When we study the Dharma, we’re perpetual students of what is. We don’t have a word for it, but what we’re actually studying is reality ‘is-ing’ in every moment. Reality is dynamic, never static. From this point of view it’s impossible not to see that all in samsara arises and dies. It happens in every moment. It’s happening to us right now.

Recognizing this truth with a compassionate heart moves us to ease the suffering in samara with whatever skillful means we have. Do we walk by a homeless person and say to ourselves, “Well, they’re dying anyway, so why bother doing anything?” Compassion allows us to see this differently as in, “We’re all on the same journey. I’ll do what I can to ease the suffering of our fellow travelers”.

This is the power of the union of wisdom and compassion. We see things as they truly are and at the same time we recognize our joyful obligation to help.

How do I bring this into my everyday life?

My teacher, the Venerable Tashi Nyima teaches that the union of wisdom and compassion is true enlightenment.

Wow, this little prayer isn’t playing around, right?  When I look at this prayer I ask myself why is the order of things the way they are? First we free ourselves from suffering. Then we are instructed to embrace happiness. Then the instruction is to abide in peace. Only after all of this does the prayer talk about the union of wisdom and compassion.

Why was this order of things chosen? Well, it’s very hard to ease the suffering of others if you yourself are suffering terribly. Suffering can disturb the mind. Without a clear mind, how do we see the way to ease the suffering of others?

As to happiness, if you’re desperately unhappy, how can you help others to be happy? If you’re constantly grasping onto “my story”, or the idea of “this is my experience”, then how can you have peace much less offer peace to others?

This, I think is what they tell us on airplanes. If those oxygen masks fall, put your own mask on first, then attempt to help others. The Dharma is much the same way. We must remedy ourselves before seeking to remedy others. Or, as Christianity puts it, ‘remove the beam from your own eye so that you can see clearly to remove the mote from your brother’s eye.’

In whole, this prayer gives us instruction to attain enlightenment in three easy steps. And for just the price of studying and practicing the Dharma, you too be enlightened. Okay, they’re not particularly easy steps. And this isn’t a late-night TV commercial, although I’d argue it ought to be.

In my day to day life, as part of my job, I talk to many people who are suffering terribly . When I take those calls, I focus on answering in a way that gives information and at the same time acknowledges their suffering, their basic humanity, their buddha nature.

Do I get enlightened when I manage to accomplish this? No. But it does shift my world view from ‘me’ and ‘mine’ to ‘all’.  As in may all be free from suffering . We all have these small experiences in samsara where practicing shifts our world perspective and we have a moment of enlightenment. Our buddha nature peeks out and connects to the buddha nature in others, reassuring us that enlightenment is only ever a moment away.

by

On the presence of dew. . .

Written Saturday, October 31, 2015, 11:00 AM

Currently I’m studying The Supplication with a Dharma friend, the Venerable Tashi Nyima.

This is my contemplation on the third verse.

“I bow at the feet of the masters who carefully teach that

All conditioned entities are impermanent, unstable, changeable

Phenomena—like a mountain waterfall, like a cloud, like

Lightning, and like dew on a blade of grass.”

Full Disclosure: This is my first contemplation on a whole verse!

Explain to someone else (making it my own)

When I knew I was going to write about this, the first thing I set out to do was to prove it wrong. But to do that, I had to understand it better. What’s this ‘conditioned entities’ thing all about? Well, it’s anything that arises from cause and effect. What? No. That definitely can’t be true because absolutely everything arises from cause and effect. If this is true, that would have to mean that every thing is impermanent, and unstable, and changeable.

I tried really hard (I had two weeks) to think of some ‘unconditioned entity’. But no go. I couldn’t think of one single thing. The moment when my mind was finally forced to that conclusion was pretty heavy duty. I think I was driving home from somewhere and I thought to myself…Yes, it’s true. And…wonderful!

 The tail end of that thought caught me by surprise. Wonderful? Yes! Imagine if the pyramids in Egypt were still sparkling brand new, fresh as the day the Pharaohs got buried there, wouldn’t that be weird? Worse yet, imagine if that really truly horrible meal you ate last year to be polite and not hurt any feelings were still there in your stomach undigested!

dandelion girlYes, I thought to myself, yes. This conditioned thing is good. Imagine a world where cause and effect had no…well…no effect. Ice would never melt, even in hot sun. Our bodies would never age. No. That’s not a good thing—you like having teeth don’t you? And worst of all, I think, karma would be carved in some kind of unforgiving, immutable stone.

This would mean that whatever direction we chose for our lives, we’d be stuck with it. Think about that. Do you really still want the things you wanted when you were sixteen?

In our existence here in samsara, our biggest tug of war with impermanence is that we want selective impermanence. You know, like—I want to age to 25, stop there, never grow older, but keep learning and becoming wiser. But that’s not how it is. We age, we grow, we learn, and if we’re very fortunate, we gain some wisdom along the way. It’s a package deal.

Conditioned existence itself, “like dew on a blade of grass” passes moment to moment without our ever seeing it. The great benefit, the great joy of this is that every moment that arises can become a cause of suffering or a cause of happiness. It’s our choice.

Every moment, it’s our choice.

***

 Apply to a past situation (how would it have been different?)
There’s a scene in an old movie called “The Time Machine”. In it the time traveler moves through hundreds of years in a matter of seconds. You see buildings melt into rubble, then brand new sparkling time machinebuildings rise, then crumble into rubble as he jets forward in time. I was fascinated by that. I wondered when my house would crumble like that, and what would rise in its place.

Decades later I got involved in a relationship. We both vowed that not only would we love each other forever, but we would love each other in EXACTLY the same way we loved each other that day at that moment.

Talk about naïve, right?

I spent a horribly tortuous decade of my life struggling to keep that vow. It was terrifying. As soon as something changed, I felt like—no. No! Things have to stay just like they are—forever. If I could have found Old Man Time, I would have done him in.pushback time

And change did of course come, but not in the way I feared it would. I changed. I wanted different things. I wasn’t in love. I grew tired of the struggle.

All of this struggle had a predictably disastrous outcome—what else could the ending have been but disastrous and painful, and heartbreaking?

If I could go back and whisper in the ear of my younger idealistic self, I would tell her that change is part of life. I would tell her that when we try to hold back the rhythms of cause and effect, we will bring upon ourselves a Tsunami of pain and suffering. I would tell her that in the end change will come, better to welcome it, no matter how frightening. I would whisper that anything permanent is a delusion, fueled by hope and fear. And I would certainly tell her that change, as fraught with danger as it may seem, is better than entombing yourself in a delusion of unchanging permanence.

***

 Apply to an (ongoing) present situation (how does it matter today?)

Since 2012 (maybe 2011), I have been through layoffs that included hundreds of people, other layoffs that came once a quarter, and finally the sale of the company I worked for. The very first layoff was terrifying. Even though I knew I’d get a good severance package—still—it was heart stopping and heartrending to see people be escorted out.

By the third or fourth layoff, I just kind of waited to see if my name was on The List. When the company got sold, I was furious! What? Getting sold to some rinky dink, nouveau riche, mom & pop family-owned operation whose true name should be Greedsters, Inc.? And who, I might add, was (and continues to be) very evasive about the whole idea of a severance package.

It took me a long time, a few months to realize the truth of the situation I’m in. I find myself at a point in my life where anything is possible. Of course, it’s always been that way. But now, I’m aware of it.

Aside from the overt acts of not showing up and/or not doing my work, whether or not I have a job is utterly beyond my control. Of course, it always has been. But awareness has a certain magic about it, or maybe I should say a certain grace. But more on that later.

The truth about my job is that the position I fill is on someone’s spreadsheet beside my Greedster, Inc. Employee ID Number. When the formulae in that spreadsheet indicate that my position can be filled for much cheaper in say. . . Mumbai or Puerto Rico. . .the Greedster, Inc. Employee ID Number will be changed and my steady paycheck will evaporate—kinda like dew on a blade of grass.

So each day, I work with what I have. This situation forces me to bow to impermanence and cause and effect.

balloongirlIn doing this, I am finding that when we bow to impermanence, our life takes on a certain grace, a certain lightness of being. Not to wax too poetic here, but we come to realize that we came to samsara with nothing, and we will leave with nothing. Rather than being depressing, as I thought that realization would be, it is in fact buoyant. I mean that literally. When we become aware of the true state of conditioned existence, then we can let of the terrible weight of hope and fear. Why? Because there’s no question: Yes. You are to lose absolutely everything you have acquired in samsara. No one gets out alive.

There. Now you know how the movie ends. The only question remaining is: do you want to struggle against impermanence until your last breath, or, do you want to live with the grace of impermanence and use your every moment to move toward true bliss, true permanence, true purity, true self.

***

 Apply to a potential situation (bringing it home to play)

Last year I took a vow to give 125 hats / scarves to the Jonang Monastery in Tibet. I took that vow in December, 2014. At the outset, I couldn’t turn the little wheel on my Addi knitting machine fast enough. Wow! I thought, at this rate, I’ll have 250 hats and scarves to give. In other words, I believed with a brand of blind faith, that things would remain exactly as they were.

As you may imagine, things changed. Depression snuck up on me. The slough of despondencymenopause baseball bat smacked me around. In short, I spent four months of my life in a quicksand morass of depression and despair.

With the help of a very good friend, I was able to make my way out of the deepest bits of the quicksand. As I lay panting on the shore, recovering, rediscovering my life—I panicked. Four months! And not one hat or scarf had rolled off my Addi. I was a long, long, way from 125. I wasn’t even in shouting distance.

I almost wanted to just let myself slide back into the quicksand. But before I did, I asked in desperation—how do I give back a vow? I tell you, that vow was wrecking my nerves.

The answer was so simple, I missed it. When my friend repeated it, I was just about bowled over. Change the vow. That was the answer. That’s it. Just change it. [Disclaimer: This is not true for all vows.]

Well, I tell you, that’s given me a world of relief. I feel the shore expanding, the quicksand drying on my legs and falling away as I pull myself free of the slough of despondency.

This seems like a small thing, but it made me think of all the other absolutes we have in our lives. We come up with all these “Have To” things in our lives, and somehow we come to have a faith in the imputed immutability we grant them. We will even change our lives to match the “Have To”. Wow. That’s a little bit crazy.

No. I say no to that. All that we see around us is, by its very nature, subject to cause and effect. All that we witness in samsara not only will pass away, but is passing away before our very eyes, with every breath.

Would we try to hold onto a wave in an ocean? Or a breeze rattling the leaves of a tree? These things and all that we see in samsara are ephemera. Their permanence arises from our deluded mind.

Once we understand this, we can appreciate the fleeting beauty of a waterfall, or a cloud, or a drop of dew on a blade of grass. We can appreciate each moment as it arises and falls away, and know that within each and every moment there exists a cause for our suffering or a cause for our enlightenment.

Which will we choose?

paths

by

On the next hour. . .

Currently I’m studying Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones with a Dharma friend, the Venerable Tashi Nyima.

This is my contemplation on the first two lines of verse 80 of the root text of Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones.

heart treasure

“The third part, my exhortation to relinquish everything and practice;

Though you may well miss the point, just slipped out by itself.

Yet, since it in no way contradicts the words of the Buddhas and Boddhisattvas;

It would be truly kind of you to put it into practice.”

 

Full Disclosure: This is my first contemplation in a long time. It was nerve wracking!

Written Saturday, September 23, 8:00 AM

Explain to someone else (making it my own)

The calendar has become such an icon of our culture. The sixties had Jimmy Hendrix. The seventies had disco. The eighties had unbridled greed. The nineties had all things New Age and crystal. Here we stand in the twenty-first century with the calendar. It’s not even a watch so you can see what time it is now, it’s a calendar so you can see where you will be.calendar

On top of this, a mere calendar isn’t enough. The true status symbol is a crowded calendar. One must have things to do at every waking moment of the day. This, samsara tells us, is success.

Is it? Is it really? Patrul Rinpoche asks us, “How many people in the world will die within the next hour? Can you be certain you won’t be one of them?” Where does the hour of our death go on our calendar? Which slot is that? Can we really afford a whole hour? I mean, you’re just lying there (if you’re fortunate) doing nothing, right?

Sadly, samsara buries us in things to be done, things to be acquired, things to be achieved. But not one of these myriad things will free us of the cycle of suffering. Not one of the things on our calendars will lead to the cessation of suffering.

Yes. Life comes with many things to be done. This cannot be denied. But I look at it this way. If I were in prison, and I wanted to get out, my mind would always be on escape. No matter what I was doing, who I was talking to, my mind would be on getting to freedom.

In the same way, here in the prison of samsara, shouldn’t our every thought be of freeing ourselves? Shouldn’t we live as though everything we did could be a step on our path to enlightenment?

I think the time has come to put “escape” on our calendars.

***

 Apply to a past situation (how would it have been different?)

A while back, when I was totally caught up in corporate culture, the company I worked for sent a group of us to a series of classes about how to organize our lives “for success” with a very famous brand of corporate calendars that I’ll call Cubby.

Cubby comes with a slot of everything, and by God, every slot had to be filled. This was long before the cell phone plague of constant, umbilical connection overtook us. Back then it was very prestigious to walk around with your Cubby calendar and whip it open if someone dared to interrupt your oh-so-carefully planned day. Under Cubby rules, they would have to be penciled in because. . . well…you were on the path to success.

This calendar “system” as it’s still called, was not merely a yearly calendar. No. Nothing so sFive Year Planimple. The Deluxe Cubby System (no, I’m not making that up) comes with a Five Year Plan. What am I doing here–taking over the world?? Oh my holy God! A what? Didn’t Russia have Five Year Plans? How did it work out for them? I heard they went all to pieces.

Anyway, at the end of each calendar week there was a space to summarize whether you were on target for your Five Year Plan, what progress you’d made, and what you needed to do better. This is one serious calendar system. It even comes with “Quadrants” to identify what matters, what really matters, and what really matters right now. I kid you not.

This happened sometime back in my late twenties, early thirties, and I bought into Cubby one hundred percent. I was never on target with my Five Year Plan because what I wanted kept changing.

Looking back on the whole Cubby episode in my life, I can notice that I truly believed that doing stuff—‘getting more done’ in the corporate parlance—would make me a better person, an absolute success. And one day, that would lead to happiness.

If I could go back and talk to my younger self, so full of hope and fear, I would ask her to think over one simple question. Where on the Cubby calendar is there a slot to reschedule aging, disease and death? Then I’d give her a book of matches and lighter fluid.

***

 Apply to an (ongoing) present situation (how does it matter today?)

Lo these many years later, I find myself still in the corporate world. Cubby, I’m sure has moved to tablets and iPhones and “Seminars for Success”. My job is pretty much dominated by the calendar because of my frequent interactions with attorneys and their deadlines. If you think someone can’t hyperventilate via email, spend a day at my desk.

I keep my calendar in Microsoft Outlook, and on my phone, of course. And I do things that must be done. I meet deadlines. I deliver products. I hold the hands of the nervous and fearful. I get to the doctor and the hairdresser reasonably on time.

But there’s something on my calendar at work that pops up every hour—breathe–it says. This is a reminder to either take a few seconds to silently recite mantra, or if it’s reasonable, to recite mantra and then silently read a prayer from the stack of “flashcard” prayers I keep on my desk.

path4For me, this is a constant reminder that I am here in samsara, caught in a cycle of suffering, and no matter what I’m doing at the moment, my life’s work is to achieve enlightenment, one step at a time, so that I may free myself and all sentient beings from suffering.

This sounds very high-minded, like. . .really? Every hour? Well, yes. It translates to taking an extra minute to reassure an attorney that yes, I understand their deadline, and yes, we’re doing all we can to meet it. It translates to saying a few light words to someone who looks sad, overburdened with samsara. It translates to remembering that no one gets out of samsara alone. There is no separation. Until we are all free of suffering, no one is free.

Like a prisoner, I’ve taken the instruments meant to imprison me, and used them to further my endeavor toward freedom. If we are to escape samsara, we must learn some way of using what lies in our lives to further our steps on the path.

***

 Apply to a potential situation (bringing it home to play)

These days, I’m almost tempted to buy a Cubby calendar just to luxuriate in the feel of all the empty space I would leave on it.

A Dharma friend of mine says…do less. At first, I thought—what? Have you seen my life? Mind you, I’m unmarried with no kids. But still, samsara sucks me in.

Ever notice how on Monday mornings at work, the question is—so what did you do this weekend? At times my jaw just about drops when I hear what people squeeze into forty-eight hours! People have stopped asking me this question because my answer is always the same. . . “not much”. They sort of give me a pitying look and move on. After all, there’s stuff to be done, right?

In truth, that’s a small white lie. I do quite a bit on weekends, but I try to make my activities as focused on my path as I can. For a long while, I did too much. That led to a mini-breakdown. But nowadays I choose three—maybe four things tops—to do on the weekend.

As time goes by and I feel more rested and more confident, I’m starting to want to do more. But then I think of my Dharma friend. . . do less. I’m finally beginning to see what that means. The less we do (that is unnecessary), the more chances we give the mind to turn to the Dharma.

The Winter season is approaching and I have a commitment to deliver 125 hats and scarves. I’m behind. My first instinct is to spend every waking moment knitting. This may work short term, but long term it will lead to exhaustion and disaster.

So, as I work on this wonderful project over the next couple of months, I will remind myself that every stitch can be a step out of samsara. What kind of future escapee would I be if I was too exhausted to escape when the time came to go?

Death is certain, but the time of death is unknown. There are countless ways to discard the body. There are eighty-four thousand gates to the Dharma. Shouldn’t our every step be urgently moving us toward one of those gates of freedom?

balloons

by

On countless beings…

Currently I’m studying Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones with a Dharma friend, the Venerable Tashi Nyima.

This is my contemplation on the first line of verse 25 of the root text of Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones.

heart treasure

“The basis of the Mahayana path is the thought of enlightenment;

This sublime thought is the one path trodden by all the Buddhas.

Never leaving this noble path of the thought of enlightenment,

With compassion for all beings, recite the six-syllable mantra.”

 

Explain to someone else (making it my own)

When you grow up Seventh Day Adventist, it’s a little like going to a Heaven Pep Rally every Saturday when you go to church. Believe me when I tell you, Hieronymus Bosch had nothing on those preachers when it came to picturing the torments of Hell. It was bad, they’d tell you. All your flesh would burn off, and you’d scream in agony; but it didn’t stop there. No, no. Hell was eternal, so your skin would magically grow back and the eternal flames of damnation would consume you again and again, for all eternity.

Hell mouthBut those of us at the weekly Heaven Pep Rally had nothing to worry about. Not for us were those infernal flames greedy for the flesh of sinners. No. We were the saved. We were the ones who had accepted Jesus Christ as our personal savior. Not only would we not spend eternity in lakes of brimstone and fire, we’d walk streets of gold, and maybe even lie down with a couple lions and lambs. And there’d be angels singing eternal Hosannas to God. This last bit worried me sometimes because…well…I didn’t like church music that much and it didn’t sound like Heaven was the kind of place that got FM reception. But, you know, it was better than Hell.

One night, after a particularly vivid fire and brimstone Pep Rally, I broke down in hysterics at home. You see, I went to church with my uncle. My parents never went. I suddenly realized my parents would be in those eternal flames because they weren’t saved like I was. They were sinners. I begged them to go to church so that they wouldn’t end up boiled in a lake of fire forever.

Boy, my dad got really mad at my uncle. They had a “grown up” talk. I wasn’t there. My uncle later told me that it was okay. My parents would get into Heaven because my ticket was good for three. I was about ten years old. I started wondering about my aunts and cousins, my friends at school, my teachers. None of them were Seventh Day Adventist. Was it the lakes of fire for them?

In reminding us to aspire for enlightenment with the sole purpose of freeing other beings, Dilgo Khyentse says, “Your living parents are only two of the vast infinity of living beings. . . . All sentient beings are the same in wishing to be happy and not to suffer. The great difference between oneself and others is in numbers—there is only one of me, but countless others.”

Ultimately, this is the thought of enlightenment: to live our lives as though our sole purpose were to free ourselves of suffering so that we may free all sentient beings from their suffering.

***

Apply to a past situation (how would it have been different?)

When I was in fourth grade, one of the things our teacher did as a reward for good behavior was to give out pretzel rods. She kept a box of them in her supply closet. I used to love to see that box come out. But I’d always have a selfish thought…I wish I didn’t have to share. I want all the pretzels.

About three decades later, I thought I had a chance to have all the pretzels. I thought I was so in love. I’d discovered a new fairytale castleparadise—no, a penthouse–in Paradise, the highest point. I was so high up and I had a love so much greater than any love anyone had ever known, my love was in the stratosphere of Paradise. And I wanted it all for myself. Every last bit, every moment, every syllable. I was committed to not letting a single crumb of love escape. This time, I had all the pretzels and was going to keep them. Forever.

Funny thing about that word—forever. The moment you utter it, or even give it a shape in your thoughts, it begins to crumble. I spent ten years of my life trying desperately to hoard love because, I believed, it was the only love, the deepest love I’d ever find.

Looking back on that time in my life, I can notice that all my misery in the years of the Relationship From Hell arose from clinging to the idea that the most important thing in the world was my happiness. Had I been able to breathe, take a step back from the maelstrom of my life, I may have noticed a few things.

I may have noticed that my desperate clinging to my happiness above all other things had led to a life dominated by hope and fear: hope that today I’d find the magic formula and I’d be happy, and fear that I’d never be happy. I may have noticed that I was clinging to a delusion that demanded almost all my energy just to sustain it. I may have noticed that I was living in a total darkness of indifference to the suffering of others.

Having noticed these things, I may have been able to loosen my grip on the crumbs of my long-since crumbled pretzel and maybe spared a thought for others who were suffering just like me. I may have realized that there are far better things than suffering to share. 

***

Apply to an (ongoing) present situation (how does it matter today?)

The biggest ongoing situation in my life is the sale of the company I work for to Interplanetary Title, Inc. In five days, the sale will be complete. On Thursday, I gave back the ID badge that gets me into the building and got a new one that still gets me into the building, but now I’m just a vendor instead of an employee of the bank. Now, I’m just sharing space until a new building is found for us to move to.

As of today, our workspace has been moved to another floor. Today, when I get to work, it’ll be a little chaotic with a strong undercurrent of fear.

As I’ve gone through this entire transition, I have really put compassion to the test. I’m like that. If you tell me something works, I want to try it for myself. I want to see it make a difference in my life. Otherwise, what’s the point?  Life’s short and the moment of my death will be a surprise. I really don’t have time for things that don’t work.

These last few weeks at work, there has been so much fear. The air almost crackles with the electric feel of it. Throughout my days, I’ve been reciting mantra and mind training prayers. My intent these last few weeks has been slightly different. I’ve been making it my intent that by doing mantra, compassionate action may arise from me specifically in response to all of the fear and angst I feel around me at work.

At first, I thought it wasn’t working. But then gradually, I started noticing that people walked away from interactions with me with a small smile, with slightly less tension in their body. I started noticing that I spontaneously knew what to say to evoke calm in whoever I was talking to. I knew how to inject humor appropriately to break up tension.

All of this sounds minor, but it feels like ripples in a pond. And oddly, I don’t feel as though I’m at the center of those ripples. It feels as though I am only another ripple calming the waters of fear and hope I feel all around me.

abandoned treeThis has been a tremendous experience in putting compassion to the test. Throughout this transition, I am more and more coming to see that no one can be excluded from our compassion. Because really, when we do that, aren’t we abandoning them to their personal Hell, where the flames of their own guilt, their own fear, their own hope, will consume them lifetime after lifetime? I can’t think of even one person who deserves that. Not one.

***

Apply to a potential situation (bringing it home to play)

So, my Bodhisattva vow goes something like…there are limitless sentient beings suffering. I vow to free them all. That used to sound so daunting to me. There’s something about pairing “limitless” and “all” together like that which makes the mind want to shy away and say…No way. That’s too many.

I just finished reading Skull Mantra, and the one thing I noticed about the monk characters was that their own enlightenment didn’t seem all that important to them. They were always concerned with walking the path. If that meant a prison guard shooting them, then so much the better if their death could lead to that soldier one day awakening, maybe lifetimes from now.

The monks realized that, despite appearances, they were not the prisoners. The guards were the ones imprisoned in their own prejudices, their hatred, their anger, their aggression, their indifference. And it seemed to me that, paradoxically, the monks were always working to free the prison guards.

I do not mean in any way to compare my air-conditioned office with my ergonomic chair, and a vending machine just steps away, to a Tibetan gulag. But there are parallels. People at work want so much to be happy. I hear it when they talk about their children, their houses, their spouses. And it’s absolutely heartbreaking for me when I hear something like, “when we get the new carpet…” or whatever, “then…it’ll all be good.” I want so badly to say, “No. It won’t.” But that wouldn’t be a skillful means.

Today when I go to work, it will be the first day in our new office space. People will be unsettled, feeling uprooted, and they will be anxious about June 1st, our true transition to Interplanetary Title, Inc. What can I do to make a difference today?

I can realize that in a very real way every person I see today is a prisoner, beginning with the person in the mirror. We are imprisoned by afflicted emotions and wrong views. We are bound by chains of ignorance and fear in dungeons of indifference. We are, as Dilgo Khyentse puts it, “beings…sinking hopelessly in suffering like blind people lost in a vast desert…”.

What can I do? I can keep my Bodhisattva vow. I can go to work with the intent, the aspiration to use this great ship, this ship on seaprecious human life to carry others across the ocean of samsara. I might get a little lost sometimes. Some really huge waves might come, but my Buddha Nature will be right there, keeping me on course for compassion one thought, one breath, one word, one act at a time.

by

On an immeasurably precious chance…

Currently I’m studying Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones with a Dharma friend, the Venerable Tashi Nyima.

This is my contemplation on the second line of verse 21 of the root text of Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones.

heart treasure

“Even if you die today, why be sad? It’s the way of samsara.

Even if you live to be a hundred, why be glad? Youth will have long since gone.

Whether you live or die right now, what does this life matter?

Just practice Dharma for the next life—that’s the point.”

 

 

Explain to someone else (making it my own)

Vampnosferatuires have changed a lot over the decades. I believe the very first vampire movie was a silent black and white, Nosferatu.  That vampire was one scary looking dude. He was bald and wrinkled, and you got the impression (even in black and white) that he was the color of spoiled milk. In today’s beauty-obsessed world, vampires are Calvin Klein models with lustrous hair, six-pack abs, and deep brown eyes with just the barest hint of menace. Even their blood sucking fangs are sexy. What a difference a few decades make! Vampires have gone from terrifying blood-sucking creatures to Harlequin cover models. And what’s more, they won’t ever get old. They’re young and hot…ahhh…excuse me…young and beautiful forever! How cool is that?

The paradigm shift in how immortality is handled in our storytelling speaks, I think, to our own samsaric wish to not only live forever, but to be beautiful and young forever. Having just turned fifty, I can tell you—that ain’t how it is. Our bodies start to hurt in places we didn’t even know we had. Eyesight declines. Skin dries out. In the parlance of ordinary life—getting old sucks.

But it doesn’t have to. Dilgo Khyentse reminds us, “…once you start to practice the Dharma, then however long you live, every instant of every day will be an immeasurably precious chance to …practice…until the day of your death.” In the dependent, insubstantial, impermanent realm of samsara, this is very good news indeed. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s the best news we’ll ever hear in our embodied state. Yes, our bodies are subject to aging. No, youth and all of its pleasures doesn’t last forever. But the Dharma—that which holds—is not subject in any way to the nightmare vagaries of samsara. If we come to understand this, and come to make the Dharma our constant activity, then each moment of our lives becomes an immeasurably precious chance to manifest the inherent perfection of our Buddha Nature.

***

Apply to a past situation (how would it have been different?)

A little less than thirty years ago, when I was in my mid-twenties, I was obsessed with being thin and in shape. I ran. I did aerobics. I lifted weights. I drank disgusting yogurt / protein shakes. I taught aerobics (the better to stay fit). I thought of almost nothing else but being fit and most important, staying fit. I spent hours in the gym. I even had the proverbial (and disastrous) relationship with a personal trainer at the gym. I had a killer body, but I was miserable, insecure, and terrified that I wouldn’t be able to keep it.

Looking back on those years in my life, I can notice how my all-consuming desire to maintain my body was really ansnow white mirror expression of a wish not to age. I can notice that staying young and attractive was an attachment that bound me to incredible suffering. If I had been able to breathe and take a step back from the constant fury of my life, I might have noticed that my goal was meaningless.

If I had let a moment of peace and clarity arise, I might have noticed that staying young and attractive forever held out no hope for lasting happiness. I may have noticed that even though I was already where I wanted to be, it brought me only anxiety, angst, and the constant suffering of the fear of losing it. Had I been able to notice this, I may have been able to begin to free myself of a draining, pointless obsession in my life.

***

Apply to an (ongoing) present situation (how does it matter today?)

The biggest ongoing situation in my life at this writing is the Pilgrimage of 62. The main reason for beginning this pilgrimage was because of my pending fiftieth birthday. I felt I needed to take some sort of journey. At twenty-five days into the pilgrimage, and having turned fifty last week, this line takes on a special significance for me.

big five ohI only began studying the Dharma a couple of years ago. Until then, there was the nagging sensation that the ‘big five-oh’ was getting closer, and I’d done nothing with my life. I’d published three or four books and about a dozen short stories, and I was working on yet another book, but that underlying certainty that I’d done nothing with my life was only getting stronger. At first I attributed it to getting old. Maybe, I thought, it’s just part of the process. Maybe old age hormones are kicking in. What do I know?

Then I began to study the Dharma. And—horror of horrors—I saw that I’d been right. I’d totally wasted my life up until then, and the big five-oh was looming on my horizon like the iceberg that gave the Titanic a monstrously bad day. I began to panic. To be honest, when the realization that I’d been wasting my life began to dawn on me, I nearly walked away from studying the Dharma. I nearly said to myself—no, I did say to myself—I don’t need this bad news. I need to go find something meaningful to do with my life.

But I didn’t walk away. I came back week after week because a new realization began to dawn. Studying the Dharma was actually working on a very subtle level to decrease my suffering. I wasn’t Cinderella fitting into the glass slipper or anything, but things in my life that I’d thought I had no chance of ever changing were gradually improving.

After that I was hooked, and here I am on a pilgrimage at fifty, more than halfway into my life. As I take this pilgrimage, I can utterly understand how much richness the Dharma brings to our lives. I can see that if I live to be hundred, youth will have gone, but the Dharma will remain.

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Apply to a potential situation (bringing it home to play)

I return to work today after three days off. It’s been a hectic but peaceful three days. I’ve officially shifted the paradigm of my life from fiction-writing and holding out hope of blinding success in samsara to Dharma writing and baking. I’ve done this by clearing books from shelves in a kitchen nook, taking out a second bread machine, and collecting my recipes into a binder. Containers for my collection of flours, grains, add-ins, etc. are on the way in the mail. Now there’s space for them.

Those empty shelves are something I never thought I’d see. I thought I’d write romance about twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings forever. I think this was my way of making youth last.

Now, as I prepare to move into a new phase of my life, I’m aware that it’s the autumn of my life. As I take on this new adventure, it’s my intent to make the Dharma the activity of my life. I’ve found that doing this lends a feel of authenticity to whatever is done.

Specifically, when I sit down to work on a collaboration writing project with a Dharma friend, I will bring to my awareness that I am doing that project for the benefit of others. As my Dharma friend likes to say, the Dharma is meant to be shared. As I work on new recipes to perfect them, I will work knowing that I use my baking to bring benefit to others.

What does any of this have to do with Patrul Rinpoche’s line? Maybe nothing at all. But I believe if we live to be a hundred bee in jarand the Dharma has not been the activity of our life, then not only will youth be gone, but we can be assured of one thing. As Dilgo Khyentse reminds us, “…if you have not practiced the Dharma, there is at least one thing you do not need to worry about—leaving samsara behind. There is no chance of that; you are in it now, and you will be in it for many lifetimes, like a bee trapped in a jar…”

I want out of the jar.

I think we all do.

And this very lifetime is an immeasurably precious chance to get out.

How are we going to use it?