The Six Perfections

By The Dalai Lama

1. Generosity
The first among the six perfections is generosity. Generosity is of three types: giving material aid, giving dharma, and protecting from fear. "Giving dharma" refers to the giving of teachings to other sentient beings out of the pure motivation to benefit them. The phrase does not only refer to high lamas giving teachings seated on high thrones. You should not have the notion that dharma teachings should be preceded by impressive rituals such as the blowing of conch shells and the like. Rather, any instruction given out of compassion and a kind heart by anyone is considered generosity of the dharma.

Giving away one's own possessions without even the slightest touch of miserliness and without any hope for reward is part of the practice of generosity. It would be very beneficial, if you want to practice generosity, to make offerings to sick patients and also to the monastic universities which have philosophical study programs and which train many young monks for the practice of dharma.

The practice of generosity should be undertaken by giving away what you can afford. You should enhance and develop your thought of generosity to such an extent that eventually you will be able to part with even your own body which you hold most precious, without the slightest trace of apprehension or possessiveness. As in any practice, it is important right from the beginning never to be discouraged, never to think that you will not be able to do it.

Protecting someone from fear or danger is the giving of fearlessness, as is saving people from illness and so forth. The practice of rituals for the purpose of overcoming illness could also justifiably be called the giving of fearlessness. Basically one's own karmic actions are responsible for one's harm and suffering. If you have definite indications of being harmed by certain spirits, then — instead of doing rituals — the most effective way to overcome the difficulty is to practice compassion towards the forces that harm you. Such occasions give you new opportunities to practice your compassion, which is far more powerful than performing rituals.

Although we Tibetans talk about the law of cause and effect and the Buddha's doctrine, when a difficult situation really presses us we often like to blame it on the harm of spirits. It is far better to have fewer superstitions and more faith in the law of causality.

2. Morality
Next is the practice of morality. Lay people should engage in the practice of morality by abstaining from the ten negative actions — if possible, all ten. But if this is not possible, then at least taking the life of others, telling lies, and indulging in sexual misconduct should be avoided; these are very detrimental, not only for the individual but also for the peace and calmness of a community. Divisive talk is very destructive; it causes a lot of conflict and misunderstanding within a community, and between different communities and different people. Therefore, it is a great obstacle to peace and happiness of mind. The same is true of telling lies. Senseless gossip, although not so destructive from one point of view, is seen from another to be very harmful, as it wastes so much of your precious time. You should also avoid harsh speech and covetousness, as well as harmful intent and holding perverted views. "Perverted views" refers to incorrect views that deny the existence of life after death and the law of causality.

Also, as Nagarjuna recommends in his Ratnavali (Precious Garland), it is important to avoid taking alcoholic drinks. In Tibet, because of the lack of relaxation available under the repressive Chinese rule, some people indulge in taking alcohol, which is very injurious. Buddha himself has said that those who regard him as their master should never take an alcoholic drink, even as little as fits on the tip of a blade of grass.
Gambling is also very injurious; it involves all sorts of negative actions like telling lies, being covetous, and using harsh speech. Because many negative actions ensue from gambling, Nagarjuna taught that gambling is very destructive.

The same is true of smoking. Even the modern doctors speak of the destructive effect of smoking on one's health. Smoking is an addiction; it is not as if we could not survive if we did not smoke. Nor is it like taking tea. Because tea is a key part of our diet, if we are told by the doctor not to drink it, we have to find something as an alternative. But smoking is completely different: we do not need to smoke at all. Because of their misconceptions and the bad habit of smoking, some people even find the smell of tobacco quite nice. Smoking is very bad for the purse, too. Rather than smoke, it would be better to go for a picnic and enjoy a nice lunch or dinner. This is not religious talk —the issue is one of health. It would be better right from the beginning not to indulge in and develop the addiction to tobacco.

3. Patience
There are different types of patience: the patience of being indifferent to the harm inflicted by others, the patience of voluntarily accepting hardship, and the patience developed through reasoned conviction in the dharma. Practitioners of dharma should have these types of patience — they should be able to endure hardship — but adopting such patience does not mean that they should not take precautions for their health.

When you have a sickness, right from the beginning it is better to treat it by going to doctors and taking medicine. It is no good leaving matters to the last moment, which is, in part, a habit of Tibetans. Because in Tibet there were very few doctors, when someone became sick, people would advise the person to take more food and have a good rest. This is inadequate advice. It is more important to look into the causes of the illness and apply corrective measures. Taking care of your health is very important.

At the same time, meditators and students should have the patience which can voluntarily accept hardship; without such patience they will never be successful in their studies. Gungthang Jampeyang said:

Should you wish to be learned in the ways of avoiding delusions and attaining liberation,

And achieve the glory of an eloquent scholar confident amidst any assembly,

Accept with patience the hardships involved. For the leisurely lifestyle of the present,

Totally attached to the pleasures of delicacies, drinks and excessive sleep,

Will get you nowhere.

Similarly, the patience of being indifferent to harm inflicted by others is especially important, because Buddha's doctrine is rooted in compassion. Therefore, you should be able to forbear and endure the harm inflicted by others. Buddha said that those who retaliate against harm inflicted by others are not his followers. You should also view all the harm that you face and that is inflicted by others — as well as the adverse circumstances that you experience — as a manifestation and ripening of your own negative actions. Doing this will enable you to endure the suffering with greater patience. When facing difficulties such as illnesses and adverse circumstances, it is very important to reflect on the law of causality, and conclude that these are the consequences of your own doings in the past.

This conclusion will protect you from having all sorts of superstitions or unnecessary mental anxieties, but this does not mean that you should not work toward the relief of the problems.

Some people misunderstand the concept of karma. They take the Buddha's doctrine of the law of causality to mean that all is predetermined, that there is nothing that the individual can do. This is a total misunderstanding. The very term karma or action is a term of active force, which indicates that future events are within your own hands. Since action is a phenomenon that is committed by a person, a living being, it is within your own hands whether or not you engage in actions.

There are differing techniques for various types of practitioners. For some it is effective, when facing adverse circumstances, to reflect that these are due to the nature of suffering and are the natural consequences of being in the cycle of existence. Others could view adverse circumstances as the ripening of their own negative actions and could wish that by the experience of these sufferings all other sentient beings will never undergo such experiences in the future.

4. Joyous Effort
If one has the faculty of joyous effort, one will be able to accomplish the task that one has originally set out to do. Therefore, this faculty is very important for a spiritual practitioner. Generally speaking, there are three types of joyous effort: (1) armor-like joyous effort; (2) joyous effort in gathering virtues; and (3) joyous effort in working for others. The main obstacles to the development of these efforts are the different levels of laziness — primarily the laziness of procrastination, and the lazinesses stemming from indolence and from a sense of inferiority.

5. Concentration
Since the practices of concentration and wisdom are treated in separate chapters, only a brief explanation of these is given here.
Generally speaking, concentration refers to a faculty of single-pointedness of the mind that serves as a powerful basis for any given meditation. It is of two types, based on differing functions: mundane and super-mundane concentrations.

6. Wisdom
Wisdom refers to an analytic faculty of the mind that allows a probing into the deeper nature of things. Broadly speaking, it is of two kinds: the wisdom examining the ultimate nature of phenomena, and the wisdom examining the conventional or relative nature of phenomena.

THE FOUR RIPENING FACTORS

The four ripening factors refer to the four principal factors that bodhisattvas employ in attracting disciples and enhancing their spiritual potentials. These are:
(1) giving material aid
(2) speaking eloquently
(3) always giving the right counsel
(4) setting an example by living the principles taught. It is through these skillful means that the compassionate bodhisattvas work for the welfare of all other beings.

The Path to Bliss: A Practical Guide To Stages Of Meditation


This article was excerpted from The Path to Bliss, ©1991,2003, by Dalai Lama.
Thanks to Innerself.com for this article. Original link: http://innerself.com/Spirituality/dalai_lama_53104.htm

The Dalai Lama on Reincarnation, Part 2

By The Dalai Lama

Continued from The Dalai Lama on Reincarnation, Part 1

How Rebirth Takes Place

There are two ways in which someone can take rebirth after death: rebirth under the sway of karma and destructive emotions and rebirth through the power of compassion and prayer. Regarding the first, due to ignorance negative and positive karma are created and their imprints remain on the consciousness. These are reactivated through craving and grasping, propelling us into the next life. We then take rebirth involuntarily in higher or lower realms. This is the way ordinary beings circle incessantly through existence like the turning of a wheel. Even under such circumstances ordinary beings can engage diligently with a positive aspiration in virtuous practices in their day-to-day lives. They familiarise themselves with virtue that at the time of death can be reactivated providing the means for them to take rebirth in a higher realm of existence. On the other hand, superior Bodhisattvas, who have attained the path of seeing, are not reborn through the force of their karma and destructive emotions, but due to the power of their compassion for sentient beings and based on their prayers to benefit others. They are able to choose their place and time of birth as well as their future parents. Such a rebirth, which is solely for the benefit of others, is rebirth through the force of compassion and prayer.

The meaning of Tulku

It seems the Tibetan custom of applying the epithet ‘Tulku’ (Buddha’s Emanation Body) to recognized reincarnations began when devotees used it as an honorary title, but it has since become a common expression. In general, the term Tulku refers to a particular aspect of the Buddha, one of the three or four described in the Sutra Vehicle. According to this explanation of these aspects of the Buddha, a person who is totally bound by destructive emotions and karma has the potential to achieve the Truth Body (Dharmakaya), comprising the Wisdom Truth Body and Nature Truth Body. The former refers to the enlightened mind of a Buddha, which sees everything directly and precisely, as it is, in an instant. It has been cleared of all destructive emotions, as well as their imprints, through the accumulation of merit and wisdom over a long period of time. The latter, the Nature Truth Body, refers to the empty nature of that all-knowing enlightened mind. These two together are aspects of the Buddhas for themselves. However, as they are not directly accessible to others, but only amongst the Buddhas themselves, it is imperative that the Buddhas manifest in physical forms that are accessible to sentient beings in order to help them. Hence, the ultimate physical aspect of a Buddha is the Body of Complete Enjoyment (Sambhogakaya), which is accessible to superior Bodhisattvas, and has five definite qualifications such as residing in the Akanishta Heaven. And from the Body of Complete Enjoyment are manifested the myriad Emanation Bodies or Tulkus (Nirmanakaya), of the Buddhas, which appear as gods or humans and are accessible even to ordinary beings. These two physical aspects of the Buddha are termed Form Bodies, which are meant for others.

The Emanation Body is three-fold: a) the Supreme Emanation Body like Shakyamuni Buddha, the historical Buddha, who manifested the twelve deeds of a Buddha such as being born in the place he chose and so forth; b) the Artistic Emanation Body which serves others by appearing as craftsmen, artists and so on; and c) the Incarnate Emanation Body, according to which Buddhas appear in various forms such as human beings, deities, rivers, bridges, medicinal plants, and trees to help sentient beings. Of these three types of Emanation Body, the reincarnations of spiritual masters recognized and known as ‘Tulkus’ in Tibet come under the third category. Among these Tulkus there may be many who are truly qualified Incarnate Emanation Bodies of the Buddhas, but this does not necessarily apply to all of them. Amongst the Tulkus of Tibet there may be those who are reincarnations of superior Bodhisattvas, Bodhisattvas on the paths of accumulation and preparation, as well as masters who are evidently yet to enter these Bodhisattva paths. Therefore, the title of Tulku is given to reincarnate Lamas either on the grounds of their resembling enlightened beings or through their connection to certain qualities of enlightened beings. 

As Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo said: “Reincarnation is what happens when someone takes rebirth after the predecessor’s passing away; emanation is when manifestations take place without the source’s passing away.”

Recognition of Reincarnations

The practice of recognizing who is who by identifying someone’s previous life occurred even when Shakyamuni Buddha himself was alive. Many accounts are found in the four Agama Sections of the Vinaya Pitaka, the Jataka Stories, the Sutra of the Wise and Foolish, the Sutra of One Hundred Karmas and so on, in which the Tathagata revealed the workings of karma, recounting innumerable stories about how the effects of certain karmas created in a past life are experienced by a person in his or her present life. Also, in the life stories of Indian masters, who lived after the Buddha, many reveal their previous places of birth. There are many such stories, but the system of recognizing and numbering their reincarnations did not occur in India.

Part 3 will delve further in recognizing reincarnations in Tibet

Training the Mind: Verse 8

Training the Mind Verse 1

Training the Mind Verse 2

Training the Mind Verse 3

Training the Mind Verse 4

Training the Mind: Verses 5 & 6

Training the Mind: Verse 7

In the final verse, we read:

May all this remain undefiled

By the stains of the eight mundane concerns;

And may I, recognizing all things as illusion,

Devoid of clinging, be released from bondage.

The first two lines of this verse are very critical for a genuine practitioner. The eight mundane concerns are attitudes that tend to dominate our lives generally. They are: becoming elated when someone praises you, becoming depressed when someone insults or belittles you, feeling happy when you experience success, being depressed when you experience failure, being joyful when you acquire wealth, feeling dispirited when you become poor, being pleased when you have fame, and feeling depressed when you lack recognition.

A true practitioner should ensure that his or her cultivation of altruism is not defiled by these thoughts. For example, if, as I am giving this talk, I have even the slightest thought in the back of my mind that I hope people admire me, then that indicates that my motivation is defiled by mundane considerations, or what the Tibetans call the “eight mundane concerns.” It is very important to check oneself and ensure that is not the case. Similarly, a practitioner may apply altruistic ideals in his daily life, but if all of a sudden he feels proud about it and thinks, “Ah, I’m a great practitioner,” immediately the eight mundane concerns defile his practice. The same applies if a practitioner thinks, “I hope people admire what I’m doing,” expecting to receive praise for the great effort he is making. All these are mundane concerns that spoil one’s practice, and it is important to ensure that this is does not happen so we keep our practice pure.

As you can see, the instructions that you can find in the lo-jong teachings on transforming the mind are very powerful. They really make you think. For example there is a passage which says:

May I be gladdened when someone belittles me, and may I not take pleasure when someone praises me. If I do take pleasure in praise then it immediately increases my arrogance, pride, and conceit; whereas if I take pleasure in criticism, then at least it will open my eyes to my own shortcomings.

This is indeed a powerful sentiment.

Up to this point we have discussed all the practices that are related to the cultivation of what is known as “conventional bodhichitta,” the altruistic intention to become fully enlightened for the benefit of all sentient beings. Now, the last two lines of the Eight Verses relate to the practice of cultivating what is known as “ultimate bodhichitta,” which refers to the development of insight into the ultimate nature of reality.

Although the generation of wisdom is part of the bodhisattva ideal, as embodied in the six perfections, generally speaking, as we saw earlier, there are two main aspects to the Buddhist path-method and wisdom. Both are included in the definition of enlightenment, which is the non-duality of perfected form and perfected wisdom. The practice of wisdom or insight correlates with the perfection of wisdom, while the practice of skillful means or methods correlates with the perfection of form.

The Buddhist path is presented within a general framework of what are called Ground, Path, and Fruition. First, we develop an understanding of the basic nature of reality in terms of two levels of reality, the conventional truth and the ultimate truth; this is the ground. Then, on the actual path, we gradually embody meditation and spiritual practice as a whole in terms of method and wisdom. The final fruition of one’s spiritual path takes place in terms of the non-duality of perfected form and perfected wisdom.

The last two lines read:

And may I, recognizing all things as illusion,

Devoid of clinging, be released from bondage.

These lines actually point to the practice of cultivating insight into the nature of reality, but on the surface they seem to denote a way of relating to the world during the stages of post-meditation. In the Buddhist teachings on the ultimate nature of reality, two significant time periods are distinguished; one is the actual meditation on emptiness, and the other is the period subsequent to the meditative session when you engage actively with the real world, as it were. So, here, these two lines directly concern the way of relating to the world in the aftermath of one’s meditation on emptiness. This is why the text speaks of appreciating the illusion-like nature of reality, because this is the way one perceives things when one arises from single-pointed meditation on emptiness.

In my view, these lines make a very important point because sometimes people have the idea that what really matters is single-pointed meditation on emptiness within the meditative session. They pay much less attention to how this experience should be applied in post-meditation periods. However, I think the post-meditation period is very important. The whole point of meditating on the ultimate nature of reality is to ensure that you are not fooled by appearances can often be deluding. With a deeper understanding of reality, you can go beyond appearances and relate to the world in a much more appropriate, effective, and realistic manner.

I often give the example of how we should relate to our neighbors. Imagine that you are living in a particular part of town where interaction with your neighbors is almost impossible, and yet it is actually better if you do interact with them rather than ignore them. To do so in the wisest way depends on how well you understand your neighbors’ personality. If, for example, the man living next door is very resourceful, then being friendly and communicating with him will be to your benefit. At the same time, if you know that deep down he can also be quite tricky, that knowledge is invaluable if you are to maintain a cordial relationship and be vigilant so that he does not take advantage of you. Likewise, once you have a deeper understanding of the nature of reality, then in post-meditation, when you actually engage with the world, you will relate to people and things in a much more appropriate and realistic manner.

When the text refers to viewing all phenomena as illusions, it is suggesting that the illusion-like nature of things can only be perceived if you have freed yourself from attachment to phenomena as independent discrete entities. Once you have succeeded in freeing yourself from such attachment, the perception of the illusion-like nature of reality will automatically arise. Whenever things appear to you, although they appear to have an independent or objective existence, you will know as a result of your meditation that this is not really the case. You will be aware that things are not as substantial and solid as they seem. The term “illusion” therefore points to the disparity between how you perceive things and how they really are.

Next week a new blog series will begin.

Let Me Introduce You to My Jesus

By Kirby Robinson

copyright 2008-2013

Over the past few years there has been an effort to alter the story of Jesus Christ, His life, and how he died. These fictitious alterations have more often been wrong than right, and have confused and bewildered people, thus causing inner conflict and doubt.

I’m going to write about my Jesus, the Jesus that I have grown to love, admire, respect, but never completely comprehend. My Jesus is the only Son of God. Sent here to earth to end the need for the Law of Perfection that the world suffered under until the day He was nailed to the cross. Born of Mary, a virgin, and Joseph, his earthly father, He was not a child of some rabbi or spiritual leader, or of a Roman centurion. Jesus, the child, turned into a man who under the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the Lord himself, was taught all the knowledge to understand and comprehend His role in the struggle of good over evil, of light over darkness, of love over anger, and of peace over unrest. 

If He did travel to India and Tibet to study under great masters, that’s fine, but it’s not important. If He didn’t, that’s good as well. If He got caught up in politics and wanted to see Israel free of Roman power, so what? He was a man, He had the power to think, and speak His own thoughts. But none of that really matters. Was he married to Mary Magdalene? Had children, even? Again, that’s not an issue that I hang any great importance upon. For what is the greatest expression of being a man loving a woman and giving life to a child? So if he experienced this, great. If not, then He sacrificed a normal family life so that he could serve all of mankind. Did He come up with totally original and new ideas about the world? Some bold, brave, and new kind of thinking? No. Does that make him less a teacher if His message is simply one of love and compassion? Caring for your fellow man? That there can be victory over illness, suffering, and bondage in this very life and in death? That there is the reward of being one with the Father and being reunited with your loved ones? The most excellent truths we can seek are often the old ones. And when He learned what the final act of His earthy life had to be, the betrayal, the trial, the beatings and floggings, carrying His own instrument of death, and finally, hours of suffering, being nailed up on the cross. Nails driven through both His hands and feet. With bones broken, organs bruised, blood flowing from countless cuts, He knew what He had been born to do. Not only had He come to give a message to an unlistening world, but also He came to this earth to live and die for all of us.

As His last breath left his body, He spoke: "Why hast thou forsaken me?" and "Blame them not for what they do for they know not." His blood flowing to the ground to pay a price so we can seek healing and salvation. With His breath gone, His body moved into a tomb, the darkest hours of Christ’s life was at hand. There was one final task He had to do. The hardest and most challenging task still lay ahead.

Christ had to descend and stay in hell for 72 hours. Alone, cut off from angels, the Holy Spirit, and the Lord Himself. He had to endure 72 hours of torment. What deepest recesses of hell He must have been cast down into. What manner of demons must have been unleashed upon Him? His spiritual body must have been torn to shreds. The devil, Lucifer and Satan only had 72 hours to force Christ into forsaking His power. Understand that Lucifer has access to the heavens. He knew about Revelation and the final conflict to be played out in Armageddon, and he knew that unless he broke Christ, he was going to lose the battle.

Jesus Christ is and was the ultimate Bodhisattva, (the Sanskrit term Bodhi [enlightenment] and sattva [being], meaning someone who releases all sentient beings from suffering). He had to take on all forms of physical illnesses during those hours on the cross. Every infirmity ever known to man, Christ had to endure. So we could be healed. Think of that, will you? Every form of cancer, every infection, virus, and germ released on his body. Every form of mental illness was unleashed on his mind. Each and every major and minor sin He endured. He had to go to hell and suffer the full might of evil for every single person that had been born, for all times, past, present and future. He paid the price for believers and nonbelievers. This is what grants us the grace of salvation for those who seek it. This is what grants us dominion to cast out demons. If Kirby Robinson’s name were used to cast out a demon, the dark forces would laugh, as I have no spiritual authority. But because of the dark hours that Christ spent in hell, He never gave up. He could have, but He didn’t. He knew that if HE could not withstand the onslaught of evil, then who could? Not you, nor I, but only Him.

Why is it that more and more people are trying to take Jesus off the cross and turn His works and teachings into myths and lies? His life was led to the fullest for every single person that has and will ever inhabit this planet. Some have been insinuating that His life was part of some wild conspiracy. He used the cross as a means of escape. He snuck out of Israel and lived under an assumed name in another country. A wise man once said that the smartest thing that the devil ever did was to convince people that he did not exist. I say, the smartest thing the devil ever did is convince people that Christ did not pay the ultimate price. He may sell that bill of goods to others, but not to me. I have Christ in my heart, spirit, and mind. My Christ lived for me, my Christ taught for me, my Christ suffered for me, my Christ died for me, my Christ rose for me, and my Christ will always be there for me. Will yours?

HAPPY EASTER!

From the book Paranormal Teachings: The Best of Shedding Some Light

Training the Mind: Verse 1

With a determination to achieve the highest aim

For the benefit of all sentient beings

Which surpasses even the wish-fulfilling gem,

May I hold them dear at all times.

These four lines are about cultivating a sense of holding dear all other sentient beings. The main point this verse emphasizes is to develop an attitude that enables you to regard other sentient beings as precious, much in the manner of precious jewels. The question could be raised, "Why do we need to cultivate the thought that other sentient beings are precious and valuable?"

In one sense, we can say that other sentient beings are really the principal source of all our experiences of joy, happiness, and prosperity, and not only in terms of our day-to-day dealings with people. We can see that all the desirable experiences that we cherish or aspire to attain are dependent upon cooperation and interaction with other sentient beings. It is an obvious fact. Similarly, from the point of view of a practitioner on the path, many of the high levels of realization that you gain and the progress you make on your spiritual journey are dependent upon cooperation and interaction with other sentient beings. Furthermore, at the resultant state of buddhahood, the truly compassionate activities of a Buddha can come about spontaneously without any effort only in relation to sentient beings, because they are the recipients and beneficiaries of those enlightened activities. So one can see that other sentient beings are, in a sense, the true source of our joy, prosperity, and happiness. Basic joys and comforts of life such as food, shelter, clothing, and companionship are all dependent upon other sentient beings, as is fame and renown. Our feelings of comfort and sense of security are dependent upon other people's perceptions of us and their affection for us. It is almost as if human affection is the very basis of our existence. Our life cannot start without affection, and our sustenance, proper growth, and so on all depend on it. In order to achieve a calm mind, the more you have a sense of caring for others, the deeper your satisfaction will be. I think that the very moment you develop a sense of caring, others appear more positive. This is because of your own attitude. On the other hand, if you reject others, they will appear to you in a negative way. Another thing that is quite clear to me is that the moment you think only of yourself, the focus of your whole mind narrows, and because of this narrow focus uncomfortable things can appear huge and bring you fear and discomfort and a sense of feeling overwhelmed by misery. The moment you think of others with a sense of caring, however, your mind widens. Within that wider angle, your own problems appear to be of no significance, and this makes a big difference. If you have a sense of caring for others, you will manifest a kind of inner strength in spite of your own difficult situations and problems. With this strength, your problems will seem less significant and bothersome. By going beyond your own problems and taking care of others, you gain inner strength, self-confidence, courage, and a greater sense of calm. This is a clear example of how one's way of thinking can really make a difference.

The Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life (Bodhicaryavatara) says that there is a phenomenological difference between the pain that you experience when you take someone else's pain upon yourself and the pain that comes directly from your own pain and suffering. In the former, there is an element of discomfort because you are sharing the other's pain; however, as Shantideva points out, there is also a certain amount of stability because, in a sense, you are voluntarily accepting that pain. In the voluntary participation in other's suffering there is strength and a sense of confidence. But in the latter case, when you are undergoing your own pain and suffering, there is an element of involuntariness, and because of the lack of control on your part, you feel weak and completely overwhelmed. In the Buddhist teachings on altruism and compassion, certain expressions are used such as "One should disregard one's own well-being and cherish other's well-being." It is important to understand these statements regarding the practice of voluntarily sharing someone else's pain and suffering in their proper context. The fundamental point is that if you do not have the capacity to love yourself, then there is simply no basis on which to build a sense of caring toward others. Love for yourself does not mean that you are indebted to yourself. Rather, the capacity to love oneself or be kind to oneself should be based on a very fundamental fact of human existence: that we all have a natural tendency to desire happiness and avoid suffering. Once this basis exists in relation to oneself, one can extend it to other sentient beings. Therefore, when we find statements in the teachings such as "Disregard your own well-being and cherish the well-being of others," we should understand them in the context of training yourself according to the ideal of compassion. This is important if we are not to indulge in self-centered ways of thinking that disregard the impact of our actions on other sentient beings. As I said earlier, we can develop an attitude of considering other sentient beings as precious in the recognition of the part their kindness plays in our own experience of joy, happiness, and success. This is the first consideration. The second consideration is as follows: through analysis and contemplation you will come to see that much of our misery, suffering, and pain really result from a self-centered attitude that cherishes one's own well-being at the expense of others, whereas much of the joy, happiness, and sense of security in our lives arise from thoughts and emotions that cherish the well-being of other sentient beings. Contrasting these two forms of thought and emotion convinces us of the need to regard other's well-being as precious.

There is another fact concerning the cultivation of thoughts and emotions that cherish the well-being of others: one's own self-interest and wishes are fulfilled as a by-product of actually working for other sentient beings. As Je Tsong Khapa points out in his Great Exposition of the Path to Enlightenment (Lamrim Chenmo), "the more the practitioner engages in activities and thoughts that are focused and directed toward the fulfillment of others' well-being, the fulfillment or realization of his or her own aspiration will come as a by-product without having to make a separate effort." Some of you may have actually heard the remark, which I make quite often, that in some sense the bodhisattvas, the compassionate practitioners of the Buddhist path, are wisely selfish people, whereas people like ourselves are the foolishly selfish. We think of ourselves and disregard others, and the result is that we always remain unhappy and have a miserable time. The time has come to think more wisely, hasn't it? This is my belief.  At some point the question comes up, "Can we really change our attitude?"

My answer on the basis of my little experience is, without hesitation, "Yes!" This is quite clear to me. The thing that we call "mind" is quite peculiar. Sometimes it is very stubborn and very difficult to change. But with continuous effort and with conviction based on reason, our minds are sometimes quite honest. When we really feel that there is some need to change, then our minds can change. Wishing and praying alone will not transform your mind, but with conviction and reason, reason based ultimately on your own experience, you can transform your mind. Time is quite an important factor here, and with time our mental attitudes can certainly change. One point I should make here is that some people, especially those who see themselves as very realistic and practical, are too realistic and obsessed with practicality. They may think, "This idea of wishing for the happiness of all sentient beings and this idea of cultivating thoughts of cherishing the well-being of all sentient beings are unrealistic and too idealistic. They don't contribute in any way to the transformation of one's mind or to attaining some kind of mental discipline because they are completely unachievable." Some people may think in these terms and feel that perhaps a more effective approach would be to begin with a close circle of people with whom one has direct interaction. They think that later one can expand and increase the parameters. They feel there is simply no point in thinking about all sentient beings since there is an infinite number of them. They may conceivably feel some kind of connection with their fellow human beings on this planet, but they feel that the infinite sentient beings in the multiple world systems and universes have nothing to do with their own experience as an individual. They may ask, "What point is there in trying to cultivate the mind that tries to include within its sphere every living being?" In a way that may be a valid objection, but what is important here is to understand the impact of cultivating such altruistic sentiments.

The point is to try to develop the scope of one's empathy in such a way that it can extend to any form of life that has the capacity to feel pain and experience happiness. It is a matter of defining a living organism as a sentient being. This kind of sentiment is very powerful, and there is no need to be able to identify, in specific terms, with every single living being in order for it  to be effective. Take, for example, the universal nature of impermanence. When we cultivate the thought that things and events are impermanent, we do not need to consider every single thing that exists in the universe in order for us to be convinced of impermanence. That is not how the mind works. So it is important to appreciate this point.

In the first verse, there is an explicit reference to the agent "I": "May I always consider others precious." Perhaps a brief discussion on the Buddhist understanding of what this "I" is referring to might be helpful at this stage. Generally speaking, no one disputes that people--you, me, and others--exist. We do not question the existence of someone who undergoes the experience of pain. We say, "I see such-and-such" and "I hear such-and-such," and we constantly use the first-person pronoun in our speech. There is no disputing the existence of the conventional level of "self" that we all experience in our day-to-day life. Questions arise, however, when we try to understand what that "self" or "I" really is. In probing these questions we may try to extend the analysis a bit beyond day-to-day life--we may, for example, recollect ourselves in our youth. When you have a recollection of something from your youth, you have a close sense of identification with the state of the body and your sense of "self" at that age. When you were young, there was a "self." When you get older there is a "self." There is also a "self" that pervades both stages. An individual can recollect his or her experiences of youth. An individual can think about his or her experiences of old age, and so on. We can see a close identification with our bodily states and sense of "self," our "I" consciousness. Many philosophers and, particularly, religious thinkers have sought to understand the nature of the individual, that "self" or "I," which maintains its continuity across time. This has been especially important within the Indian tradition. The non-Buddhist Indian schools talk about atman, which is roughly translated as "self" or "soul"; and in other non-Indian religious traditions we hear discussion about the "soul" of the being and so on. In the Indian context, atman has the distinct meaning of an agent that is independent of the empirical facts of the individual. In the Hindu tradition, for example, there is a belief in reincarnation, which has inspired a lot of debate. I have also found references to certain forms of mystical practice in which a consciousness or soul assumes the body of a newly dead person. If we are to make sense of reincarnation, if we are to make sense of a soul assuming another body, then some kind of independent agent that is independent of the empirical facts of the individual must be posited. On the whole, non-Buddhist Indian schools have more or less come to the conclusion that the "self" really refers to this independent agent or atman. It refers to what is independent of our body and mind. Buddhist traditions on the whole have rejected the temptation to posit a "self," an atman, or a soul that is independent of our body and mind. Among Buddhist schools there is consensus on the point that "self" or "I" must be understood in terms of the aggregation of body and mind. But as to what, exactly, we are referring when we say "I" or "self," there has been divergence of opinion even among Buddhist thinkers. Many Buddhist schools maintain that in the final analysis we must identify the "self" with the consciousness of the person. Through analysis, we can show how our body is a kind of contingent fact and that what continues across time is really a being's consciousness.

Of course, other Buddhist thinkers have rejected the move to identify "self" with consciousness. Buddhist thinkers such as Buddhapalita and Chandrakirti have rejected the urge to seek some kind of eternal, abiding, or enduring "self." They have argued that following that kind of reasoning is, in a sense, succumbing to the ingrained need to grasp at something. An analysis of the nature of "self" along these lines will yield nothing because the quest involved here is metaphysical; it is a quest for a metaphysical self in which, Buddhapalita and Chandrakirti argue, we are going beyond the domain of the understanding of everyday language and everyday experience. Therefore "self," person, and agent must be understood purely in terms of how we experience our sense of "self." We should not go beyond the level of the conventional understanding of "self" and person. We should develop an understanding of our existence in terms of our bodily and mental existence so that "self" and person are in some sense understood as designations dependent upon mind and body. Chandrakirti used the example of a chariot in his Guide to the Middle Way (Madhyamakavatara).When you subject the concept of chariot to analysis, you are never going to find some kind of metaphysically or substantially real chariot that is independent of the parts that constitute the chariot. But this does not mean the chariot does not exist. Similarly, when we subject "self," the nature of "self," to such analysis, we cannot find a "self" independent of the mind and body that constitutes the existence of the individual or the being. This understanding of the "self" as a dependently originated being must also be extended to our understanding of other sentient beings. Other sentient beings are, once again, designations that are dependent upon bodily and mental existence. Bodily and mental existence is based on the aggregates, which are the psychophysical constituents of beings.

From the DalaiLama.com website. Next week: Verse 2