Becoming Bodhisattvas
Page 10
In one of the Harry Potter books, the budding bodhisattva, Harry, is put under a curse that creates an extremely strong urge to give in to the kleshas and do harm. The power of Harry’s intelligence and kindness, however, is even stronger. He doesn’t believe the voices of the kleshas or get seduced by their promises of comfort, and so the curse doesn’t work.
4.36
I will not leave the fight until, before my eyes,
These enemies of mine are all destroyed.
For if, aroused to fury by the merest slight,
Incapable of sleep until the scores are settled,
4.37
Foolish rivals, both to suffer when they die,
Will draw the battle lines and do their best to win,
And careless of the pain of cut and thrust,
Will stand their ground, refusing to give way,
4.38
No need to say that I will not lose heart,
Regardless of the hardships of the fray.
These natural foes today I’ll strive to crush—
These enemies, the source of all my pain.
Because Shantideva was a prince in the warrior tradition, it’s natural for him to use images of war. His words, however, are not meant to convey aggression. The courage of the samsaric warrior is used as an analogy for the compassionate courage of the bodhisattva. We need bravery to nonaggressively stand our ground against the kleshas. With the weapons of clear determination, intelligent awareness, and compassion, we can short-circuit their seductiveness and power.
Of course, we may experience discomfort in the process, the same discomfort and restlessness we go through with any withdrawal. According to tradition, giving in to the lure of kleshas is easy in the beginning, but makes our lives increasingly more difficult in the end. In contrast, withdrawing from habitual responses is difficult in the beginning, but our lives become increasingly more relaxed and free in the end.
When we’re going through klesha withdrawal, it helps to know we’re on the right track. Shantideva remarks that—just as foolish rivals endure physical pain, sleeplessness, and even death—he will go through the anguish of detox to cease being a slave to his kleshas. He will not lose heart and give up because of pain or fear.
4.39
The wounds inflicted by the enemy in futile wars
Are flaunted by the soldier as a trophy.
So in the high endeavor for so great a prize,
Why should hurt and injury dismay me?
In the wars fought because of greed or hatred, soldiers proudly display their wounds: their injuries are like trophies for bravery. We can also expect “wounds” when we interrupt the momentum of the kleshas. In such a worthy endeavor as liberation from samsara, we could take pride in the suffering we go through. Instead of complaining, let’s regard these wounds as trophies.
4.40
When fishers, butchers, farmers, and the like,
Intending just to gain their livelihood,
Will suffer all the miseries of heat and cold,
How can I not bear the same to gain the happiness of beings?
People go through hell for their livelihood. Fishermen go out on icy waters in the bitter cold. Farmers lose everything when there’s an untimely frost. Athletes endure incredible pain to win the prize. We’re willing to go through almost anything if we think it will pay off. What if we were that willing to do what it takes to nurture the bodhi heart? With this kind of intention, we could achieve the greatest satisfaction for ourselves and others—far greater than the benefits of any other pursuit.
4.41
When I pledged myself to free from their affliction
Beings who abide in every region,
Stretching to the limits of the sky,
I myself was subject to the same afflictions.
4.42
Thus I did not have the measure of my strength—
To speak like this was clear insanity.
More reason, then, for never drawing back,
Abandoning the fight against defiled confusion.
This is what distinguishes a mature bodhisattva, such as Shantideva, from bodhisattvas-in-training. When he says that taking the bodhisattva vow was clear insanity, he’s not expressing feelings of despondency or inadequacy. He’s saying it as an incentive to get busy, to do whatever it takes to live his life as attentively and wakefully as possible. Instead of indulging in guilt and other variations on the theme of failure, he spurs himself on.
The next time you are feeling hopeless because you can’t make a dent in your confusion, you can encourage yourself with Shantideva’s words: More reason, then, for never drawing back.
Every courageous gesture we make, whether or not we think it’s successful, definitely imprints our mind in a positive way. The slightest willingness to interrupt our old habits predisposes us to greater bravery, greater strength, and greater empathy for others. No matter how trapped we feel, we can always be of benefit. How? By interrupting our defeatist story lines and working intelligently and wisely with our kleshas.
4.43
This shall be my all-consuming passion;
Filled with rancor I will wage my war!
Though this emotion seems to be defiled,
It halts defilement and shall not be spurned.
In verse 43, this emotion is anger. Although it is usually seen as a problem, Shantideva takes a homeopathic approach and vows to use anger to cure anger. Rousing his passionate enthusiasm for the task, he proceeds with all-consuming warriorship and joy.
4.44
Better if I perish in the fire,
Better that my head be severed from my body
Than ever I should serve or reverence
My mortal foes, defiled emotions.
As the years go by, I understand this kind of passionate determination and confidence more and more. The choice is mine. I can spend my life strengthening my kleshas or I can weaken them. I can continue to be their slave; or, realizing they’re not solid, I can simply accept them as my own powerful yet ineffable energy. It’s increasingly clear which choice leads to further pain and which one leads to relaxation and delight.
4.45
Common enemies, when driven from the state,
Retreat and base themselves in other lands,
And muster all their strength the better to return.
But our afflictions are without such stratagems.
4.46
Defiled emotions, scattered by the eye of wisdom!
Where will you now run, when driven from my mind?
Whence would you return to do me harm?
But oh—my mind is feeble. I am indolent!
Now Shantideva presents the bright side. He is joyful that he can free himself from the kleshas and expresses this joy from verse 45 to the end.
Happiness comes with knowing that once they’re uprooted by the eye of wisdom, the kleshas can never return. Their power evaporates once we see their empty, ephemeral nature. Dzigar Kongtrul recalls how terrified the youngest monks in his monastery would be by the annual snow lion dance. When they got older and realized the snow lion wasn’t real, that it was only a costume, they automatically lost their fear. This is an apt analogy for the essential emptiness of the kleshas.
4.47
And yet defilements are not in the object,
Nor yet within the faculties, nor somewhere in between.
And if not elsewhere, where is their abode
Whence they might wreak their havoc on the world?
They are simple mirages, and so—take heart!
Banish all your fear and strive to know their nature.
Why suffer needlessly the pains of hell?
The next time you start to get angry, ask yourself, “Where does this klesha abide?” Does it abide in the person I’m angry with? Does it abide in my sense perceptions? Or somewhere in between? What is the nature of this anger? And who is it that’s angry?
Look closely, too, at how you fuel the kleshas with your thoughts. Just look at any thought and ask: Where did this thought come from? Where is it right now? And then, “Where did it go?” If you can find anything solid to hold on to when you look at the arising, dwelling, and passing of a thought, I’d like to be the first to know.
We build up fantasy worlds in our minds, causing the kleshas to escalate. Then, like awakening from a dream, we discover this fantasy has no substance and the kleshas have no basis.
My friend’s father has Alzheimer’s disease. Previously he was a very angry man. But since he lost his memory, he’s changed. Because he can’t remember what he was angry about, he can’t fuel his bitterness. When he becomes irritated, he just can’t make it stick. Without his story lines, the causes for anger dissolve.
Of course we don’t always feel up to working so attentively with our kleshas. As Shantideva says, our minds sometimes seem feeble and lazy. But take heart: we don’t have to gear up for a big struggle. The enemy is a mirage!
4.48
This is how I should reflect and labor,
Taking up the precepts just set forth.
What invalid in need of medicine
Ignored his doctor’s words and gained his health?
Just as a sick person won’t get well without following her doctor’s advice, we won’t be helped by these teachings unless we put them into practice. This is not academic study; we could study the Bodhicharyavatara daily, and still keep strengthening our kleshas. These teachings are a way of life. To awaken bodhichitta, nurture it, and have it flourish, take Shantideva’s words very personally and use them whenever you find yourself getting hooked and carried away.
Taming the Mind
Vigilance, Part One
IN CHAPTER 5 of The Way of the Bodhisattva, Shantideva gives instruction on the paramita of discipline. The theme of discipline generally emphasizes conduct, the way we speak and act. The main theme here, however, is taming the mind. In order for any outer discipline to transform us—and for bodhichitta to not diminish—it’s essential to tame the wildness of our minds.
5.1
Those who wish to keep a rule of life
Must guard their minds in perfect self-possession.
Without this guard upon the mind,
No discipline can ever be maintained.
The method for taming the mind is shamatha meditation. Shamatha is a Sanskrit word meaning “calm abiding,” or “the development of peace.” In this practice, we generally work with the breath as our object of meditation. But whatever object we use, the instruction is always the same: when we see that our mind is wandering, we gently bring it back. In this way, we come back to the present, back to the immediacy of our experience. This is done without harshness or judgment, and it’s done over and over again.
When the mind is wild, we have no foundation for maintaining discipline: specifically, the three disciplines of not causing harm, gathering virtue, and benefiting others. How can we work with the kleshas, or act and speak with kindness, or reach out to others, if our mind is crazed? Without the stability and alertness of a tamed mind, how can we be present? Therefore, mindfully, gently, and repeatedly, we train in coming back.
Taming the mind takes time. Through good and bad moods, through periods of peacefulness and klesha attacks, we train in being present. Day by day, month by month, year by year, we become better able to keep a rule of life, better able to lead the life of a bodhisattva who can hear the cries of the world and extend a hand.
5.2
Wandering where it will, the elephant of mind,
Will bring us down to pains of deepest hell.
No worldly beast, however wild,
Could bring upon us such calamities.
In Buddhist literature there are many animal analogies for the wildness of mind: monkey mind, for example, or the out-of-control nature of an untamed horse. Here Shantideva magnifies the image by choosing the most powerful of all tamable beasts: an elephant. If a wild horse or monkey can wreak havoc, imagine the destruction that could result from a crazed elephant!
If I were delivering verse 2, it might read like this: “If our mind remains untamed and distracted, we will have constant emotional upheavals, and our anger and addictions will get stronger.” But Shantideva is not one to mince words. A scattered mind, he says, will bring us down to pains of deepest hell.
Here “hell” is a synonym for the dire consequences of a distracted mind. Shantideva uses bold language to make sure we get this point. Until we start taming the mind, we’re constantly pushed around by our emotions. Nothing in this world—no beasts, muggers, or outer threats—cause us as much unhappiness as our own wild elephant mind.
5.3
If, with mindfulness’ rope,
The elephant of the mind is tethered all around,
Our fears will come to nothing,
Every virtue drop into our hands.
Cultivating mind’s inherent capacity to stay put is called mindfulness training. Mindfulness is like the rope that keeps the wild elephant from destroying everything in sight. The rope of mindfulness brings us back to our immediate experience: to our breath, to our walking, to the book in our hands.
This point is essential: mindfulness tethers the mind to the present. Initially this takes effort, but this effort is applied with a very light touch. It’s like brushing your teeth: you brush, you get distracted, and you just naturally come back. No big deal. And so it goes with mindfulness training: mind is present, mind wanders, and mind comes back. No big deal. By gently returning to the present, gradually all our fears will come to nothing, every virtue drop into our hands. When mind calms down, everything seems workable.
Now Shantideva’s words might give us the idea that this will be quick: “I’ll work with my mind and by this time next month my problems may be over.” But in truth, our mental habits are ancient and take awhile to unwind. So we need to train with patience, intelligence, and gentleness. These supportive qualities will then increase; at times they may seem to magically drop into our hands.
When the mind is settled, virtuous qualities come to us more naturally. We have fresh insights and more kindness, relaxation, and steadiness.
5.4
Tigers, lions, elephants, and bears,
Snakes and every hostile beast,
Those who guard the prisoners in hell,
All ghosts and ghouls and every evil phantom,
5.5
By simple binding of this mind alone,
All these things are likewise bound.
By simple taming of this mind alone,
All these things are likewise tamed.
5.6
For all anxiety and fear,
All sufferings in boundless measure,
Their source and wellspring is the mind itself,
Thus the Truthful One has said.
Here Shantideva is saying something revolutionary: all anxiety, fear, and suffering disappear when we tame our mind. Even if we come upon a tiger or a ghost, we’ll stay cool. When we are present and awake, emotions have a short life span, but when we’re unconscious, they can last for years.
5.7
The hellish whips to torture living beings—
Who has made them and to what intent?
Who has forged this burning iron ground;
; Whence have all these demon women sprung?
5.8
All are but the offspring of the sinful mind,
Thus the Mighty One has said.
Thus throughout the triple world
There is no greater bane than mind itself.
Here Shantideva says explicitly that hellish circumstances, such as whips and other horrors, come only from a hellish state of mind. This view helps us to understand the demon women in verse 7. In traditional teachings on the hell realms, they represent objects of insatiable lust and could just as easily be called “demon men.” In the description of one particularly torturous state, we are continually seduced up a hill made of razor-sharp swords to reach our lover. Although we’re cut to shreds, we keep climbing to the top, only to have this sexy apparition turn into a devouring demon. This happens over and over again. Such suffering results from the out-of-control craving of an extremely lustful mind; it starts as an ember, but quickly ignites into a full-blown hell of insatiable desire.
As much as the monks in Shantideva’s audience might have liked to blame their horniness on women, and as much as any of us would like to look outside of ourselves for the cause of our misery, there is no greater bane than mind itself. An unobserved, wild mind can keep us trapped in some very uncomfortable places.
5.9
If transcendent giving is
To dissipate the poverty of beings,
In what way, since the poor are always with us,
Have former buddhas practiced perfect generosity?
5.10
The true intention to bestow on every being
All possessions—and the fruits of such a gift:
By such, the teachings say, is generosity perfected.