By Adyashanti
"When you went to a Zen temple and you wanted to go to a retreat or become a monk or something, they would make you sit at the temple gate, like the gate outside here. Imagine you come to a retreat a Garrison, and they say "No! We don't really want you here, you don't want to be here. You're not serious. Forget about it. Go home. Go back to your life. You don't want this." And 90% of the people would just go, "Well, screw that!' and just go home. And then there's 10% of the people who would kind of just sit at that gate and go 'I really do want to be here.' They go, 'No you don't.' So that's what they used to do. So they would come out occasionally and try to convince you to leave. But another thing, as they were convincing you to leave they would make sure you were well fed. A little breakfast, a little lunch, a little dinner. So they would take care of you, not abusing you, right? They were seeing what you were made of. Seeing if your ego was in control here. If you actually had the will to truth or you had the will to have it your way. And after about a week or so, can you imagine? a week! At the gates! Just to get in to see what's happening! Good Lord! Then they might go, 'Okay come on in. We like you anyway. We were just fooling around.' They'd let you in.
Not that I want to do it that way of course but this "will to truth" which means 'I really want to see things differently.' I am really willing to see that the way I see things may not be the way they are. I'm willing to see that I was wrong.' That's what enlightenment showed me. Basically I was wrong about everything. But only everything. I viewed things the way they weren't. But pretty much everything. I had this will to truth. This kind of yearning and this irrational impulse as I called it earlier, to truth and that was beautiful but basically what awakening showed me is that the world is not what I thought it was. I am not what I thought I was. The views I had on almost everything have been turned upside down, inside out, washed out, hung up to dry. And that's something that alot of people don't realize, is that what we want? Do we actually want change? I mean every one would want to change, I want to become enlightened. It's not about becoming enlightened. That's not what it's about. It's not about having a greater glow or halo around your head. It's about just the truth. Is that what we want? It's no different than anything else in life, is it? You know if you're an addict, the only thing that matters is do you really want to change. You know as they say in addiction, most people have to hit bottom before they really want to change. And then they hit bottom and maybe some of them are willing to change. They are willing to. Before they wanted to but now they are willing to. They are really willing to change and when they are willing to change then they tend to start to change, don't they? All of us are like that. Most of us are addicted to our mind and ourself and our viewpoint. And of course the idea isn't to take on somebody else's viewpoint. Mine or anybody else's. It's not to take on someone else's belief structure. It's not to take on someone else's teaching. That's not the point.
The point is to discover it for yourself. That immeasurable reality. What you really are. And it's right there, what you really are. It's right there. It's right there. And something that can really start to happen when you just want what's real. Because it's never what we think it is. It's never what we think it is. It's never the image, it's never the idea. It comes from that innocence. Do you know that innocence inside you? You now that innocence. It's kind of like the innocence of the child looking into the sky and wondering, how far is that star away? That innocence, how far? It's just like that. What's real? What am I? It's that quality.
It's not, "Who am I, What am I? I want to find that out because I want to wake up, etc, etc. That's very sort of adult. Very goal oriented, ego acquiring the Great Pearl Beyond Price. But the child thing is like, 'What is that?' How far away is that star in the sky? Who am I really? Really? What's really true? See it's an innocent thing. In the innocence is a beautiful quality. And it comes from the intuition which everybody has. Some of you, of course, have the full realization, but other of you it comes from the intuition. That's what brings us to spirituality in the first place. Some intuition there's a greater truth, there's harmony, there's unity somehow, somewhere. There's something that's real amongst this insanity. There's something that's real and pure and true. Whatever it is, that's the intuition that brings you. That subtle intuition. Hopefully that's there in you, that pulls you. Hopefully it's not the ego just desiring. 'I read about it and I want that. I want truth because it'll be good for me. I want truth and I want a house and I want a million bucks'
So when you start to feel that thread in you, not so much like I want, I want, I want, please God! Not so much like that. But just that simple quiet sincerity, that will to what's real, to what's harmonious, unity...however you would think about it in your own being. That which reaches out in that direction. That thread. That's why the great teacher Nisargadatta, when someone would say, 'What's the most important ingredient to self-realization?' And he would just say, 'Earnestness.' And if you got to know his teachings you realize he wasn't saying, you've got to just really. really. really want it. It sounds like it but what he meant by earnestness was much more like this will to truth. You actually got to want what's real. It's the most important thing. Without that, forget it. But with that, there is it. It's that thread that probably has brought you here. That's the thread. That's the thread that brings all of us here, right?
And it's not a once-and-for-all-thing. I can guarantee you that. Truth is a living thing. It's permanently impermanent. It always is and it's always on the move. It's not that thing that you realize and that you hold on to, 'I have realized.' It's a thing that is discovered fresh and anew, now and now and now. Otherwise it dies in your hands. Your great realization can become so much dust in your hands, if you grab hold of it and say 'I've got it and I'll hold on to it and I'll bring this into my life .' You may try that but sooner or later you discover truth is not that thing. Truth is a living thing. Truth is something that's living in a continuous state of openness. All the real teachings are trying to point us in that direction. Teachings are trying to point us there. Sadly we tend to grab on to the teachings. That's the tendency. Whether it's a Buddhist teaching or Hindu or Christian or Advaitic teaching. Whatever it is, the teachings are pointers. They are trying to get you to realize this truth that the truth is not the teachings. Even the teachings that I am speaking right now. This is not the truth. I will never be telling you the truth. I cannot tell you the truth. My job is simply to fail well. To fail as well as I possibly can. The truth is not something that can be communicated. Not something that can be given from one to the other. It's a living thing. It's a revelation. And it's not a onetime revelation. If it reveals itself to you and you try to hold on to it , you'll see it die in your hand. It will wither. But if all that grasping dies, then that flow, that revelation, it's always anew. It's always anew. It's the same thing but it's always anew. It's always the same but it's always anew. It's always fresh. It's always alive.
Adyashanti
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Art of Awareness
By Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche
For years Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche has painted as a form of contemplative meditation. What makes art a transformative practice, he explains, is getting ego out of the way and allowing the art to reflect a natural, uncontrived awareness.
My interest in Western art has a lot to do with my own meditation practice. Though Buddhist meditation and abstract art may seem like an odd combination, the practice of meditation and the practice of abstract painting are actually complementary.
As Buddhists, we are taught that the natural state of mind is pristine and enlightened in itself. To embody this view of the natural state, first we need to work with our mind through discipline. In our meditation practice, sometimes we are present with this experience of the natural state and sometimes we are not. When something pleasant arises, we often grasp at it, and when something unpleasant comes, we may reject it. Our discipline is to transcend these grasping and rejection tendencies that cause us so much suffering.
Over time, as we feel more self-confident and secure in our practice of meditation—and in our understanding of the true nature of mind pointed out by our teacher—we will see that the true nature is pristine and stainless. In the traditional analogy of the ocean and its waves, it is said that however large or small the waves, all are essentially made of the element of water and cannot be separated from the ocean. Similarly, in the view of meditation, all our thoughts and various feelings arise out of the natural state of mind and are ultimately made out of the same “material.” That material is empty awareness itself. If we do not succumb to habits and insecurities, or preconceptions about meditation and how our mind should be, we can then recognize that everything that arises is simply a manifestation of this very nature. Any expressions that arise from this enlightened nature can be understood as enlightened expressions when we do not approach them through the habits of acceptance and rejection.
Realizing this, we can begin to experience relaxation, as well as a lessening of judgments and reactivity. We experience more openness and acceptance. Slowly, and naturally, we begin to see the world as pure—not as in “pure” versus “ugly,” but pure in the sense of seeing the perfection of its existence. This existence is not determined according to some concept or idea of the way it should be; it simply has come to exist naturally. Its beauty is found in it being just the way it is. The world has found its own shape, form, and color. All of it arises out of the nature of mind.
We understand that the nature of mind is not simply a void. If it were, it could not produce anything. Rather, this nature must have tremendous vitality to give birth to all of the things we experience in the mind and in the world. Part of the meditation practice shown to me by my teachers His Holiness Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Tulku Ugyen Rinpoche, and Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche was to be able to trust this vitality, without becoming dualistic in my view or experience. I’ve been a meditator since I was fourteen and this has been my passion. That’s about thirty years now.
I believe we can view art as a form of contemplative meditation. I don’t see it as separate from meditation practice in any way. However, since art making involves being actively engaged with the physical body, the emotions, and the mind, in contrast to resting in the nature of mind without moving, we could consider art to be a form of meditative conduct. In Vajrayana, “conduct” refers to activity that supports our meditation practice and view. If the conduct were something separate from what we’re trying to accomplish in meditation, then it wouldn’t have much place in the life of a meditator. It would be something altogether different.
Excerpted from the Winter 2009 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner's Quarterly, available on newsstands November 17th.
Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche’s art can be viewed at kongtruljigme.com, along with a video of him painting and audio teachings.
DZIGAR KONGTRUL RINPOCHE is a lama in the Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Buddhism and the author of Light Comes Throughand It’s Up to You, as well as the newly published Uncommon Happiness. He began painting under the guidance of French abstract expressionist painter Yahne Le Toumelin and is also an aspiring photographer. After moving to the United States from northern India in 1989, he founded his own teaching organization, Mangala Shri Bhuti, based in Boulder, Colorado. Mangala Shri Bhuti is the Sanskrit name for his root guru, the late Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.
From: Buddha Dharma
For years Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche has painted as a form of contemplative meditation. What makes art a transformative practice, he explains, is getting ego out of the way and allowing the art to reflect a natural, uncontrived awareness.
My interest in Western art has a lot to do with my own meditation practice. Though Buddhist meditation and abstract art may seem like an odd combination, the practice of meditation and the practice of abstract painting are actually complementary.
As Buddhists, we are taught that the natural state of mind is pristine and enlightened in itself. To embody this view of the natural state, first we need to work with our mind through discipline. In our meditation practice, sometimes we are present with this experience of the natural state and sometimes we are not. When something pleasant arises, we often grasp at it, and when something unpleasant comes, we may reject it. Our discipline is to transcend these grasping and rejection tendencies that cause us so much suffering.
Over time, as we feel more self-confident and secure in our practice of meditation—and in our understanding of the true nature of mind pointed out by our teacher—we will see that the true nature is pristine and stainless. In the traditional analogy of the ocean and its waves, it is said that however large or small the waves, all are essentially made of the element of water and cannot be separated from the ocean. Similarly, in the view of meditation, all our thoughts and various feelings arise out of the natural state of mind and are ultimately made out of the same “material.” That material is empty awareness itself. If we do not succumb to habits and insecurities, or preconceptions about meditation and how our mind should be, we can then recognize that everything that arises is simply a manifestation of this very nature. Any expressions that arise from this enlightened nature can be understood as enlightened expressions when we do not approach them through the habits of acceptance and rejection.
Realizing this, we can begin to experience relaxation, as well as a lessening of judgments and reactivity. We experience more openness and acceptance. Slowly, and naturally, we begin to see the world as pure—not as in “pure” versus “ugly,” but pure in the sense of seeing the perfection of its existence. This existence is not determined according to some concept or idea of the way it should be; it simply has come to exist naturally. Its beauty is found in it being just the way it is. The world has found its own shape, form, and color. All of it arises out of the nature of mind.
We understand that the nature of mind is not simply a void. If it were, it could not produce anything. Rather, this nature must have tremendous vitality to give birth to all of the things we experience in the mind and in the world. Part of the meditation practice shown to me by my teachers His Holiness Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Tulku Ugyen Rinpoche, and Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche was to be able to trust this vitality, without becoming dualistic in my view or experience. I’ve been a meditator since I was fourteen and this has been my passion. That’s about thirty years now.
I believe we can view art as a form of contemplative meditation. I don’t see it as separate from meditation practice in any way. However, since art making involves being actively engaged with the physical body, the emotions, and the mind, in contrast to resting in the nature of mind without moving, we could consider art to be a form of meditative conduct. In Vajrayana, “conduct” refers to activity that supports our meditation practice and view. If the conduct were something separate from what we’re trying to accomplish in meditation, then it wouldn’t have much place in the life of a meditator. It would be something altogether different.
Excerpted from the Winter 2009 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner's Quarterly, available on newsstands November 17th.
Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche’s art can be viewed at kongtruljigme.com, along with a video of him painting and audio teachings.
DZIGAR KONGTRUL RINPOCHE is a lama in the Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Buddhism and the author of Light Comes Throughand It’s Up to You, as well as the newly published Uncommon Happiness. He began painting under the guidance of French abstract expressionist painter Yahne Le Toumelin and is also an aspiring photographer. After moving to the United States from northern India in 1989, he founded his own teaching organization, Mangala Shri Bhuti, based in Boulder, Colorado. Mangala Shri Bhuti is the Sanskrit name for his root guru, the late Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.
From: Buddha Dharma
Monday, November 16, 2009
Only Awareness Remains
AdyaShanti
Life moves, undulates, breathes in and out, contracting and expanding. This is its nature, the nature of what is. Whatever is, is on the move. Nothing remains the same for very long. The mind wants everything to stop so that it can get its foothold, find its position, so it can figure out how to control life. Through the pursuit of material things, knowledge, ideas, beliefs, opinions, emotional states, spiritual states, and relationships, the mind seeks to find a secure position from which to operate.
The mind seeks to nail life down and get it to stop moving and changing. When this doesn't work, the mind begins to seek the changeless, the eternal, something that doesn't move. But the mind of thought is itself an expression of life's movement and so must always be in movement itself. When there is thought, that thought is always moving and changing. There is really no such thing as thought. There is only thinking, so thought which is always moving (as thinking) cannot apprehend the changeless.
When thought enters into the changeless it goes silent. When thought goes silent, the thinker, the psychological "me," the image-produced self, disappears. Suddenly it is gone. You, as an idea, are gone. Awareness remains alone. There is no one who is aware. Awareness itself is itself. You are now no longer the thought, nor the thinker, nor someone who is aware. Only awareness remains, as itself. Then, within awareness, thought moves. Within the changeless, change happens.
Now awareness expresses itself. Awareness is always expressing itself: as life, as change, as thought, feelings, bodies, humans, plants, trees, cars, etc. Awareness yields to itself, to its inherent creativity, to its expression in form, to experience itself. The changeless is changing. The eternal is living and dying. The formless is form. The form is formless. This is nothing the mind could have ever imagined.
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