by Pema Chodron
3.10
For sentient beings, poor and destitute,
May I become a treasure ever plentiful,
And lie before them closely in their reach,
A varied source of all that they might need.
Here Shantideva dedicates his merit to the poor and destitute, again on both the material and spiritual levels. A bodhisattva might appear as a treasure, as shelter, a nurse, or anything that relieves our pain and opens our eyes to a bigger picture.
In the story of the great Indian Buddhist master Naropa, his teacher Tilopa appeared to him in the form of a maggot-ridden dog. Feeling disgust, Naropa tried to jump over the poor creature and run away. Immediately the dog changed into Tilopa, who said, “If you have aversion for sentient beings, how do you ever expect to awaken from samsaric mind?”
Anything that awakens our compassion or wisdom serves as a bodhisattva.
3.11
My body, thus, and all my goods besides,
And all my merits gained and to be gained,
I give them all away withholding nothing
To bring about the benefit of beings.
This is Shantideva’s instruction for developing a refreshingly generous mind: a mind with the power to overcome clinging and the “I want, I need” of self-absorption. It’s as close as we can come to giving up everything that’s “me” or “mine.”
The journey to enlightenment involves shedding, not collecting. It’s a continual process of opening and surrender, like taking off layer after layer of clothes, until we’re completely naked with nothing to hide. But we can’t just pretend, making a big display of disrobing, then putting everything back on when no one’s looking. Our surrender has to be genuine.
After training with Tilopa for many years, Naropa began to teach his own students. The most famous of these was the Tibetan teacher known as Marpa the translator. Marpa, who had gone to study with Naropa in India, had a large amount of gold dust to present to his teacher as a parting gift. When he was about to return home, he offered this ceremoniously. But Naropa saw he was holding some back for his journey. He demanded that Marpa give him everything, saying, “Do you think you can buy my teaching with your deception?” Reluctantly, Marpa surrendered all his gold dust, which Naropa then casually threw into the air.
This was a moment of shock and disbelief for Marpa, but also a moment of great opening. Finally, he became an empty vessel and could receive Naropa’s blessings without any reservations. Until he gave up everything, self-importance blocked his way.
In this verse Shantideva vows to surrender the three main bases of self-importance: attachment to possessions, body, and merit. The Tibetan word for attachment is shenpa. Dzigar Kongtrul describes it as the “charge” behind emotions: the charge behind “I like and don’t like,” the charge behind self-importance itself.
Shenpa is the feeling of getting “hooked,” a nonverbal tightening or shutting down. Suppose you are talking to someone and suddenly you see her jaw clench; she stiffens or her eyes glaze over. What you’re seeing is shenpa: the outer manifestation of an inner tug, the subtlest form of aversion or attraction. We can see this in each other; more importantly we can feel this charge in ourselves.
Possessions evoke shenpa all the time: we’re afraid of losing them, breaking them, or never getting enough. It doesn’t have to do with the things themselves. It’s the charge behind wanting them or being afraid they’ll be taken away. To get hooked in this way is completely unreasonable, as if the objects of our desire could provide security and lasting happiness. Nevertheless, shenpa happens. It’s that sticky feeling that arises when we want things to go our way.
Our bodies also provoke shenpa. This manifests in various ways. It’s the anxious feeling that’s triggered by our health, our appearance, our desire to avoid physical pain. Personally, despite my sincere aspiration to alleviate the suffering of others, my willingness sometimes falls apart at the slightest discomfort. This summer, for instance, I hesitated to help a bird caught in a rose bush, for fear of being pricked by thorns.
This body is a precious vessel, our ship for reaching enlightenment. But if we spend all of our time painting the decks, we’ll never leave port and this brief opportunity will be lost. Moreover, our body, like everything else, is impermanent and prone to death and decay. Perhaps it’s time to see it for what it is and stop strengthening our shenpa.
According to Patrul Rinpoche, the easiest thing to relinquish is our possessions, and we know how hard that can be. Giving up attachment to our bodies, he says, is even more challenging; yet the most difficult to give up is our merit. Can you imagine willingly letting go of all your good fortune? Would you be able to relinquish your good qualities, pleasing circumstances, comforts, and prestige so that others may be happy?
You would think that the shenpa triggered by our merit would be easier to let go of than attachment to our bodies or possessions. Buddhist practitioners pretend to do it all the time. But relinquishing attachment to merit means letting go on the most profound and difficult level; even our clutching to security and the illusion of certainty would go. Giving away merit is equivalent to shedding everything. It is the ultimate way to become shenpa-free.
3.12
Nirvana is attained by giving all,
Nirvana the objective of my striving.
Everything therefore must be abandoned,
And it is best to give it all to others.
With these words Shantideva summarizes the essence of verse 11: if liberation is what we want, we’ll need to let go of everything. No holding something back for a rainy day. This is probably the hardest message for any of us to hear.
3.13
This body I have given up
To serve the pleasure of all living beings.
Let them kill and beat and slander it,
And do to it whatever they desire.
3.14
And though they treat it like a toy,
Or make of it the butt of every mockery,
My body has been given up to them—
There’s no use, now, to make so much of it.
When I first read these verses I was appalled. I didn’t want to consider going this far, nor did I feel it was wise to do so. From a Western perspective, this advice seems to feed right into the self-loathing so prevalent in our culture. But knowing that Shantideva’s intention is always to support and encourage us, I looked past my initial aversion and discovered the wisdom of his words.
This, I realized, was the approach of the civil rights workers. In order to benefit not only African Americans but also their oppressors, they were willing to put their bodies and feelings on the line. For the greater good, they entered into dangerous situations. Being the butt of every mockery was the least of it; they knew they would be beaten, insulted, and perhaps killed. This is an example of bodhisattva wisdom and courage. Yet these were just ordinary people—ordinary people who had given birth to the bodhi heart.
These verses describe what many famous bodhisattvas were willing to go through: people like Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, Aung San Suu Kyi, and Gandhi. It also describes the bravery of countless unsung heroes and heroines.
3.15
And so let beings do to me
Whatever does not bring them injury.
Whenever they catch sight of me,
Let this not fail to bring them benefit.
When someone beats or mocks us, they’re not exactly strengthening healthy patterns. From a bodhisattva’s point of view, they are harming themselves more than us. Therefore Shantideva says that sentient beings can do anything to him, as long as it doesn’t result in their own injury.
There is a story of a Tibetan monk who wept when he remembered how the Chinese had tortured him in prison. His listeners, of course, assumed that the reas
on for his tears was the memory of his personal trauma. However, he wasn’t crying for himself; he was crying for the Chinese who, as a result of their cruelty, would reap such intense suffering in the future.
If we could maintain this long-range perspective, it wouldn’t be so difficult to wish for our oppressors to stop creating their own pain. This approach takes some cultivating; but if we work with it, we will sow seeds of happiness for all concerned.
3.16
If those who see me entertain
A thought of anger or devotion,
May these states supply the cause
Whereby their good and wishes are fulfilled.
3.17
All those who slight me to my face,
Or do me any other evil,
Even if they blame or slander me,
May they attain the fortune of enlightenment!
All of the thoughts and actions of others toward me, even negative ones, can create a positive connection between us, one that will bring both of us benefit now and in the future.
As I read verse 17, I was thinking of Shantideva’s audience at Nalanda. By now he probably had the monks in the palm of his hand, but originally they wanted to humiliate him. Here he’s telling them indirectly, “Whatever your original intention, may it be the cause for your attaining enlightenment.” This is a form of forgiveness on the spot. Beyond forgiveness, he is actually wishing them well—the ultimate wellness of enlightenment.
3.18
May I be a guard for those who are protectorless,
A guide for those who journey on the road.
For those who wish to go across the water,
May I be a boat, a raft, a bridge.
3.19
May I be an isle for those who yearn for landfall,
And a lamp for those who long for light;
For those who need a resting place, a bed;
For all who need a servant, may I be their slave.
3.20
May I be the wishing jewel, the vase of plenty,
A word of power and the supreme healing;
May I be the tree of miracles,
And for every being the abundant cow.
In verses 18 through 20, Shantideva takes his intention further. He aspires to benefit sentient beings in any form that works. In fact, you never know how a bodhisattva might manifest in your life.
When the Mormons originally settled in Utah, their first crops were being devastated by locusts. When they prayed for help, thousands of seagulls appeared and gobbled up all the locusts: seagull bodhisattvas came to the rescue of people who were about to starve.
The image of an isle represents a safe resting place. We can provide this for a friend who’s depressed and in need of support and encouragement. To lift someone’s spirits, we might take him out for a cup of coffee or join him on a walk. In these simple ways, we become like an island where people can relax and find the strength to go forward.
Becoming a servant means doing whatever will help. At Gampo Abbey part of our monastic training is learning to serve each other without arrogance or complaint. The wishing jewel and the vase of plenty are examples of providing whatever is needed effortlessly and in great abundance.
The remaining fourteen verses are known as the “bodhisattva vow.” Generations of bodhisattvas have repeated these words daily, in order to maintain their intention to help others.
3.21
Like the earth and the pervading elements
Enduring as the sky itself endures,
For boundless multitudes of living beings,
May I be their ground and sustenance.
3.22
Thus for every thing that lives,
As far as are the limits of the sky,
May I provide their livelihood and nourishment
Until they pass beyond the bonds of suffering.
Without hesitation, Shantideva makes the commitment to enter the bodhisattva path. He begins with the aspiration to provide steadfastness and sustenance for all beings until they attain enlightenment.
The next two verses are the heart of the bodhisattva vow. By saying them three times, we can renew our commitment at any time. In essence, we’re vowing to do on-the-job training forever.
3.23
Just as all the buddhas of the past
Embraced the awakened attitude of mind,
And in the precepts of the bodhisattvas
Step by step abode and trained,
3.24
Just so, and for the benefit of beings,
I will also have this attitude of mind,
And in those precepts, step by step,
I will abide and train myself.
The words step by step are important here. Even the fully awakened ones trained step by step, and we follow their example. Since this vow can be broken by one harsh word or flash of anger, we would obviously be wise to be patient with ourselves and give up hope of always getting it right. We can renew our intention to stay open again and again and again. Every morning before I get out of bed, I recite these two verses three times, and then I start my day.
There are three approaches to working with the bodhisattva vow. Our commitment can be made with the attitude of a king or queen, a ferryman, or a shepherd. These images represent ways to go forward realistically, step by step, given our current capabilities.
At the level of a king or queen, we work on ourselves first. Although our specific intention is to benefit others, we know this is only possible if we ourselves wake up. Anyone who works in the helping professions knows how easy it is to lose one’s patience or feel aversion. It soon becomes obvious that we can’t do the work of benefiting others until we’ve put our own kingdom in good working order.
The next level is the aspiration of the ferryman. Here we find ourselves in the same boat with all sentient beings, crossing the water together. The analogy has a sense of “just like me.” Like me, all beings experience themselves as the central character in life’s drama. Like me, they’re enslaved by attachments and aversions, hopes and fears. No one wants to experience physical or emotional pain any more than I do. We all want to feel safe and free from fear.
With this as the basis of our bodhisattva training, we reach out beyond our self-centered version of reality and bring others into our lives. When our own depression or resentment arises, it becomes a stepping-stone to understanding the darkness felt by others. If we have insomnia, a toothache, a burn, or cancer, instead of making us retreat into our own little world, it becomes the basis for empathy and loving-kindness.
This approach also works when things are going well. When we feel relaxed and happy, we can remember that others also enjoy these states of mind. They, too, want to feel comfortable and at home with themselves and their world. May all of us be happy and at our ease; and may we all experience the clarity and freshness of our mind.
The next image, the shepherd, represents what we generally think of as “real” compassion. Just as shepherds put the welfare of their sheep before their own, we aspire to put others before ourselves. This is how most of us think we should work with our bodhisattva commitment, but truthfully, not many of us feel we can do it. Of course, we have all been in situations where we’ve spontaneously put others first: we’ve given our bus seat to an elderly person, or stayed up all night with a troubled friend. Parents do it all the time; they’ll even run into traffic to pull their toddler to safety. But to hold this as our only model would definitely be misleading. Instead, we can proceed at any of these three levels: a king or queen, ferryman, or shepherd.
To awaken bodhichitta, we start where we are and go forward step by step.
3.25
That this most pure and spotless state of mind
Might be embraced and constantly increase,
The prudent who have cultivated it
Should praise it highly in such words as these:
3.26
“Today my life has given fruit.
This human state has now been well assumed.
Today I take my birth in Buddha’s line,
And have become the buddhas’ child and heir.”
Having recited the two key verses of the vow, Shantideva then rejoices. From his point of view, once we make the commitment and begin to practice mind training, we are already bodhisattvas. This is an encouraging way to look at our spiritual journey. In some schools of thought, this doesn’t occur until sometime in the distant future; but Shantideva says that having taken the vow, we’re already the buddhas’ child and heir. What’s more, we have this book as our training guide.
3.27
“In every way, then, I will undertake
Activities befitting such a rank.
And I will do no act to mar
Or compromise this high and faultless lineage.”
Shantideva joyfully proclaims his intention to act in ways that befit a bodhisattva. This kind of confidence doesn’t crumble each time we stumble and fall. When we say that we will do nothing to compromise this high and faultless lineage, we say it knowing we won’t always succeed. Nevertheless, our aspiration to awaken bodhichitta is very strong. Without trying to measure up to some unrealistic ideal, we aspire to move in the direction of further sanity. We don’t want to squander this precious human birth strengthening negative habits that weaken our capacity for enlightenment.