Becoming Bodhisattvas
Page 9
4.14
And this will always be my lot
If I continue to behave like this,
And I will suffer pains and bondage,
Wounds and laceration in the lower realms.
There is a repeating pattern to our behavior that we somehow seem to miss. When we’re challenged, our habitual reactions are especially predictable: we strike out or withdraw, scream or weep, become arrogant or feel inadequate. These strategies for seeking security and avoiding discomfort only increase our uneasiness. But alas, they seem addictive; even though the results are unsatisfactory, we use them again and again.
Attentiveness functions like a guardian who protects us from repeating the same mistakes and strengthening the same patterns. We can catch ourselves getting hooked and avoid being swept away by shenpa.
4.15
The appearance of the buddhas in the world,
True faith and the attainment of the human form,
An aptitude for good: all these are rare.
And when will all this come to me again?
There are a few recurrent themes in Shantideva’s teachings. One of them is the advantage of a precious human birth. We have too much going for us to waste this life, especially since we can’t know when our good fortune might be lost. In verses 16 through 26, he says more on this important subject.
4.16
Today, indeed, I’m hale and hearty,
Have enough to eat, and am without affliction.
And yet this life is fleeting and deceptive.
This body is but briefly lent to me.
This precious life is like a dream. Even when it’s a very pleasant dream, it’s fleeting and uncertain. We will waste our good fortune if we take it for granted.
Too often, we’re complacent about our favorable circumstances, particularly here in the West. But what happens to our state of mind when our modern conveniences break down? When the power goes off and our food starts to rot? The point is to let our present comforts support—not hinder—the bodhisattva way of life.
4.17
And yet the way I act is such
That I shall not regain a human life!
And losing this, my precious human form,
My evils will be many, virtues none.
Being attentive to the consequences of our actions is still the subject here. We can use our intelligence to act wisely instead of habitually.
In verse 18, Shantideva emphasizes being attentive to what we sow. Again, he says, our future well-being depends on sowing wholesome seeds rather than seeds of suffering.
4.18
Here is now the chance for wholesome deeds,
But if I fail now to accomplish virtue,
What will be my lot, what shall I do,
When trapped in lower realms, enmeshed in misery?
4.19
Never, there, performing any virtue,
Only ever perpetrating evil,
Thus for a hundred million aeons,
Happy states will never come to me.
When we’re comfortable, it’s relatively easy to open our hearts to another’s suffering. But in states of intense misery, it’s very difficult. If we’re starving and someone gives us a bowl of rice, do we share it with someone else in the same boat? Because of our fear of starvation and death, we might find this extremely difficult. When we’re enmeshed in misery, we just want relief from our pain. For one moment of not starving, we might easily turn our backs on someone else. That’s the message: when suffering is intense, it’s harder to think of others and harder to access bodhichitta.
Right now, because of our good birth, we have a chance to create the causes and conditions of happiness rather than misery, of inner strength and generosity rather than fearfulness and greed. This might not be so easy later on.
4.20
This is why Lord Buddha has declared
That like a turtle that perchance can place
Its head within a yoke adrift upon a shoreless sea,
This human birth is difficult to find!
Here we have the classic analogy for the difficulty of gaining a precious human birth: it’s as rare as a sea turtle surfacing every hundred years to put its head through the hole of a floating yoke. We might easily be born as an insect, a fish, or a human with no chance of hearing the dharma; our present good circumstances are rare.
4.21
If evil acts of but a single instant
Lead to deepest hell for many ages,
The evils I have done from time without beginning—
No need to say that they will keep me from the states of bliss!
If one intentional act of harm, even if it’s over in an instant, reinforces hellish states of mind, then there’s no need to say what will come of the harm we’ve intentionally caused, not just in this life but from beginningless time.
When we do a life review, we inevitably find we have some regrets. We’ve all said or done things that we wish we hadn’t. Yet this doesn’t mean we’re doomed. By simply acknowledging what we’ve done, we interrupt the ignorance that sustains habitual patterns. Thus, instead of sabotaging our future happiness, we cultivate a relaxed and flexible mind.
The essential point is that we can at any time choose the path of suffering or happiness.
4.22
And mere experience of such pain
Does not result in being freed from it.
For in the very suffering of such states,
More evil will occur, and then in great abundance.
Shantideva reminds us, again, that intense pain usually hardens us and makes us more fearful and self-centered.
In the Dharmapada, a compilation of the Buddha’s teachings, it says that great suffering can awaken great compassion. This is the bodhisattva ideal. The bodhichitta teachings explain how pain can make us kinder instead of more neurotic; how it can link us with others and awaken bodhichitta instead of causing greater harm. Without these teachings, however, suffering doesn’t free us; it increases our tendency to stay stuck.
4.23
Thus, having found reprieve from all these things,
If I now fail to train myself in virtue,
What greater folly could there ever be?
How more could I betray myself?
Having found this precious situation, how more could I betray myself? Shantideva is saying that by letting down sentient beings, we’re simultaneously betraying ourselves. As Booker T. Washington put it, “Don’t let any person bring you so low as to hate them.” Who really suffers most when we are filled with hatred? The key here is that we betray ourselves more than anyone else.
4.24
And though all this I understand,
But later waste my time in foolish idleness,
Then when my time to die comes round,
My sorrows will be black indeed.
Knowing that we are now in a situation where we can help ourselves, if we don’t let this understanding inform our lives, what will be our state of mind when we die?
4.25
And when my body burns so long
In fires of hell so unendurable,
My mind likewise will also be tormented—
Burned in flames of infinite regret.
This verse makes the same point: if we keep strengthening the wrong habits, our minds will be tormented with infinite regret. But how should we understand this? If thinking of karma as punishment is a wrong view, and if there is no great avenger in the sky, what is being said here?
Shantideva is talking about the destructive power of negative emotions and the way they enslave us when we strengthen them. From here until the end of the chapter, having talked about attentiv
eness to cause and effect, he discusses the need to be attentive to the kleshas: aggression, craving, ignorance, jealousy, arrogance, pride, and all their offspring.
4.26
For it’s as if by chance that I have gained
This state so hard to find, wherein to help myself.
And now, when freedom—power of choice—is mine,
If once again I’m led away to hell,
4.27
I am as if benumbed by sorcery,
My mind reduced to total impotence
With no perception of the madness overwhelming me.
O what is it that has me in its grip?
From moment to moment, we can choose how we relate to our emotions. This power of choice gives us freedom, and it would be crazy not to take advantage of it.
On the other hand, when habitual reactions are strong and long-standing, it’s difficult to choose intelligently. We don’t intentionally choose pain; we just do what’s familiar, which isn’t always the best idea. I think we can all relate with feeling benumbed by sorcery, reduced to total impotence, or overwhelmed by madness. But what actually has us in its grip? The answer is our kleshas: limbless and devoid of faculties—with, in essence, no substance or solidity at all!
4.28
Anger, lust—these enemies of mine—
Are limbless and devoid of faculties.
They have no bravery, no cleverness;
How then have they reduced me to such slavery?
This is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. How can this powerful but completely ungraspable, ineffable energy do us so much harm? In the following verses Shantideva begins to answer this question by presenting the five faults of the kleshas, the five problematic aspects of our confused emotions.
The first fault, presented in verse 28, is that we become enslaved by the kleshas. This insight alone would undercut their power, if we were attentive to it. But as Shantideva says, it’s as if we’re under a spell.
Emotional reactivity starts as a slight tightening. There’s the familiar tug of shenpa and before we know it, we’re pulled along. In just a few seconds, we go from being slightly miffed to completely out of control.
Nevertheless, we have the inherent wisdom and ability to halt this chain reaction early on. To the degree that we’re attentive, we about to step into the trap, we can at least pause and take some deep breaths before proceeding.
4.29
I it is who welcome them within my heart,
Allowing them to harm me at their pleasure!
I who suffer all without resentment—
Thus my abject patience, all displaced!
The second fault of the kleshas is that we welcome them. They’re familiar. They give us something to hold on to, and they set off a predictable chain reaction that we find irresistible. This insight can be especially helpful.
When we realize that we like our kleshas, we begin to understand why they have such power over us. Hatred, for example, can make us feel strong and in charge. Rage makes us feel even more powerful and invulnerable. Craving and wanting can feel soothing, romantic, and nostalgic: we weep over lost loves or unfulfilled dreams. It’s painfully and deliciously bittersweet. Therefore, we don’t even consider interrupting the flow. Ignorance is oddly comforting: we don’t have to do anything; we just lay back and don’t relate to what’s happening around us.
Each of us has our own personal way of welcoming and encouraging the kleshas. Being attentive to this is the first and crucial step. We can’t be naïve. If we like our kleshas, we will never be motivated to interrupt their seductiveness; we’ll always be too complacent and accommodating.
A good analogy for the kleshas is a drug pusher. When we want drugs, the pusher is our friend. We welcome him because our addiction is so strong. But when we want to get clean, we associate the pusher with misery, and he becomes someone to avoid. Shantideva’s advice is to treat our crippling emotions like drug pushers. If we don’t want to stay addicted for life, we have to see that our negative emotions weaken us and cause us harm.
It is just as difficult to detox from emotions as it is to recover from heavy drugs or alcohol. However, when we see that this addiction is clearly ruining our life, we become highly motivated. Even if we find ourselves saying, “I don’t want to give up my kleshas,” at least we’re being honest, and this stubborn declaration might begin to haunt us.
But I’ll tell you this about klesha addiction: without the intelligence to see that it harms us and the clear intention to turn it around, that familiar urge will be very hard to interrupt before it’s going strong.
Do not, however, underestimate the healing power of self-reflection. For example, when you’re about to say a mean word or indulge in self-righteousness or criticism, just reflect on the spot: “If I strengthen this habit, will it bring suffering or relief?”
Of course, you need to be completely honest with yourself and not blindly buy into what the Buddha and Shantideva have to say. Maybe your habits give you pleasure as well as pain; maybe you’ll conclude that they really don’t cause you to suffer, even though the teachings say they should. Based on your own personal experience and wisdom, you have to answer these questions for yourself.
Verses 30 and 31 say more about the futility of habitual responses to kleshas, and the danger of welcoming that which causes suffering.
4.30
If all the gods and demigods besides
Together came against me as my foes,
Their mighty strength—all this would not avail
To fling me in the fires of deepest hell.
Shantideva says that nothing outside of us has the power to hurt us like the kleshas. We need to contemplate this and find out if it’s true.
4.31
And yet, the mighty fiend of my afflictions,
Flings me in an instant headlong down
To where the mighty lord of mountains
Would be burned, its very ashes all consumed.
Here he reflects that getting emotionally worked up has consequences so painful and intense they could reduce the mightiest of mountains to dust. But, again, the Buddhist teachings encourage us to reflect on our own experience to see if what’s being taught rings true.
In verse 32, we have the third fault of the kleshas: if we’re not attentive, the kleshas will continue harming us for a very long time.
4.32
No other enemy indeed
Has lived so long as my defiled emotions—
O my enemy, afflictive passion,
Endless and beginningless companion!
Long after those we despise have moved away or died, the hatred habit remains with us. The more we run our habitual patterns, the stronger they become—and, of course, the stronger they get, the more we run them. As this chain reaction becomes harder to interrupt, our experience of imprisonment becomes more intense until we feel hopelessly trapped with a monstrous companion. No outer foe will ever plague us as much as our own kleshas.
Verse 33 presents the fourth fault: give the kleshas an inch and they’ll take a mile.
4.33
All other foes that I appease and wait upon
Will show me favors, give me every aid,
But should I serve my dark defiled emotions,
They will only harm me, draw me down to grief.
Shantideva warns us not to be naïve about the pusher; we have to know his strategies and seductive ways. Likewise, we simply can’t afford to be ignorant about the power of emotions. We can neither welcome nor indulge them in hopes they’ll bring us happiness or security.
When the teachings tell us to “make friends with our emotions,” they mean to become more attentive and get to know them better. Being ignorant about emotions only makes matters wors
e; feeling guilty or ashamed of them does the same. Struggling against them is equally nonproductive. The only way to dissolve their power is with our wholehearted, intelligent attention.
Only then is it possible to stay steady, connect with the underlying energy, and discover their insubstantial nature. We can’t be stupid about this process. There’s no way to abide with our dynamic, ungraspable emotions if we keep fueling them with thoughts. It’s like trying to put out a fire with kerosene.
4.34
Therefore, if these long-lived, ancient enemies of mine,
The wellspring only of increasing woe,
Can find their lodging safe within my heart,
What joy or peace in this world can be found?
In verse 34, Shantideva presents the fifth and final problematic aspect of the kleshas: as long as we are enslaved by them, there will never be world peace. We will have no peace of mind personally, and the suffering of beings everywhere will continue unabated. War will continue; and violence, neglect, addiction, and greed will continue endlessly. By steadying ourselves before we’re taken over by our emotions, we create the causes of peace and joy for us all.
4.35
And if the jail guards of the prisons of samsara,
The butchers and tormentors of infernal realms,
All lurk within me in the web of craving,
What joy can ever be my destiny?
Typically we blame others for our misery. But Shantideva says we create our own infernal realms: our personal hells are interdependent with our klesha-ridden minds. In his view, we must take responsibility for what happens to us. If we give safe lodging to neurosis, then how can we expect it to result in joy?
Just before the Buddha attained enlightenment, his kleshas arose in full force. He was tempted by anger, desire, and all the rest; but unlike most of us, he didn’t take the bait. He is always pictured as wide awake: fully present—on the dot—relaxed and undistracted by the powerful energy of the kleshas.