Great
Perfection (Dzogchen)
by
Mingyur Rinpoche
with
Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche and
Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche
See also
these texts in this blog:
“What
does this word mean,” I asked, pointing to the tibetan word kadak.
“Oh,
that’s a very important term,” he replied, pleased to see my
interest. “Do you remember what I told the students last night
about the mind’s true nature?” the truth was that I didn’t
understand much of what he said when he taught, so I looked down and
shook my head in embarrassment. Seeing my reaction, he patted me
gently on the shoulder and said, “there’s no need to feel
embarrassed. When I was young i had to learn the meaning of all these
words just like you.” he then paused for a moment and looked at me
with such affection that all my fear and embarrassment dissolved.
“What i taught the students last night is that our true nature is
completely pure and good. the word you asked about, kadak, means
‘pure from the very beginning.’ it might not always seem like
this is the case, but there isn’t the slightest bit of difference
between your true nature and the Buddha’s. In fact, even an old dog
has this original purity.”
“What
does purity mean?” I asked. “Purity means that our true nature is
already perfect and complete,” he continued. “None of our
confusion and fear can change this inner purity. It doesn’t get
worse when we suffer or improve when we become enlightened like the
Buddha. We don’t need to add anything to it or take anything away,
nor do we have to do something to get it. it’s here with us each
and every moment, like a diamond in the palm of one’s hand.” “If
our true nature is so wonderful,” I asked, “Then why do we
suffer?” “That’s a good question,” he answered. “The
problem isn’t that we need to get something that we don’t already
have, or that we have to get rid of all the things we don’t like.
The Buddha can’t magically appear and take away all our suffering
and confusion. The problem is that we don’t recognize what we’ve
had all along. We get so caught up in the drama of our lives that we
don’t see the radiant purity of our own minds. This nature is with
us even when we feel scared, lonely, and angry.”
I
looked up at my father’s kind face as he spoke these words and a
feeling of tremendous love and respect welled up from deep within me.
I still didn’t fully grasp what he was trying to teach, but i
started to open to the possibility that there was more to life than
all the thoughts and feelings that crowded my young mind. What he had
just introduced me to was the ground of the Great Perfection, the
inner reality that we discover on the spiritual path.
With
this newfound confidence, I continued to meditate on my own. Though I
still didn’t have a direct experience of what my father was trying
to teach me, I soon found that by focusing my mind on something, I
could experience a glimpse of tranquility. Despite this development,
I still thought of meditation as something that would help me get rid
of the parts of myself that I didn’t like. I sincerely hoped that
meditation would lead me to
happy,
peaceful states of mind where panic and fear could not touch me. As I
would soon find out, however, what my father was leading me to was
much more radical than that.
For
the next few months I continued to visit my father every day, and he
taught me more about the Great Perfection. Oftentimes we wouldn’t
talk at all as we sat together. My father would simply sit in front
of the large window and gaze
off into the sky as I sat quietly by his side and tried to
meditate. I desperately wanted his approval, so I always did my best
imitation of what i thought a good meditator should do. I sat bolt
upright and tried to make it look like I was absorbed in some deep
experience, while in actuality I was just repeating a mantra in my
mind and trying not to get lost in thought. Occasionally, I would
open my eyes and peek up at my father, hoping that he had noticed my
good meditation posture and ability to sit still for so long.
One
day, as we sat together in silence, I glanced up at him in the middle
of my meditation and was surprised to find him gazing down at me.
“Are you meditating, son?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” I said
proudly, filled with joy that he had finally noticed. My answer
seemed to amuse him greatly. he paused for a few moments and then
said gently, “Don’t meditate.”
My
pride vanished. For months, I’d been doing my best to copy all the
other meditators who came to be with my father. I learned some short
prayers, sat in the right posture, and tried hard to still my
turbulent mind. “I thought I was supposed to meditate,” I said
with a shaky voice.
“Meditation
is a lie,” he said. “When we try to control the mind or hold on
to an experience, we don’t see the innate perfection of the present
moment.” Pointing out through the window, he continued, “Look out
into the blue sky. Pure awareness is like space,
boundless
and open. It’s always here. You don’t have to make it up. All you
have to do is rest in that.”
For
a moment, all of my hopes and expectations about meditation dropped
away and I experienced a glimpse of timeless awareness. A few minutes
later he continued, “Once you’ve recognized awareness, there’s
nothing to do. You don’t have to meditate or
try
to change your mind in any way.”
“If
there’s nothing to do,” I asked, “Does that mean that we don’t
have to practice?”
“Although
there’s nothing to do, you do need to familiarize yourself with
this recognition.
you
also need to cultivate bodhichitta and devotion, and always seal your
practice by dedicating the merit so that all beings may recognize
their own true nature too.
The
reason we still need to practice is that at first we only have an
understanding of the mind’s true nature. By familiarizing ourselves
with this understanding again and again, however, it eventually
transforms into direct experience. Yet even then we still need to
practice. Experience is unstable, so if we don’t continue to
familiarize ourselves with pure awareness we can lose sight of it and
get caught up in our thoughts and emotions again.
On
the other hand, if we are diligent in practice, this experience will
transform into a realization that can never be lost. This is the path
of the Great Perfection (dzogchen).”
With
these words, he stopped talking and we both continued to rest in pure
awareness, gazing off into the deep blue sky above the Kathmandu
Valley.
…
One
of the main questions I had at the time concerned the results of the
Great Perfection, so one day I approached Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche to
ask for clarification. “To attain buddhahood,” I began, “the
sutras say that we have to purify obscurations, perfect the ac-
cumulations
of merit and wisdom, and slowly refine our practice of generosity,
discipline, and the rest of the six perfections for an incredibly
long period of time, but my father and
Saljey
Rinpoche taught me that buddhahood is actually right here in the
present
moment.
They said that if we strain and strive for some enlightenment in the
future, we actually move farther away from this pure awareness. Don’t
these two presentations contradict each other?”
“Not
at all,” rinpoche replied. “ In fact, all those things that we
uncover slowly on the sutra path are actually inherent qualities of
pure awareness. The Great Perfection is an effortless path in which
you accomplish everything without doing anything. Recognizing the
empty essence of awareness perfects the accumulation of wisdom, while
recognizing its spontaneously present clarity perfects the
accumulation of merit. The union of this emptiness and clarity is the
union of the two accumulations. Moreover, this approach is
also
the union of the development and completion stages that we practice
in deity yoga, and of skillful means and knowledge. Once you realize
the nature of mind, compassion spontaneously manifests. Seeing the
potential that all beings possess, you will naturally
feel
respect for them and want to help them to realize this true nature
for themselves.
You
will also experience genuine devotion for the teachers who introduced
you to pure awareness and fully appreciate their accomplishment. So
you see, all the qualities of
enlightenment
are right here with us. We don’t need to look anywhere outside of
the present moment.
“Actualizing
these innate qualities,” he continued, “Is the best result we
could hope for. Flying in the sky, reading minds, and other magical
powers are no big deal. These days, we can do most of these things
anyway through modern technology. I’ve flown all around the world
with hundreds of people in a giant metal tube, so what’s the big
deal if you can levitate a few feet? The precious fruition of the
Great Perfection manifests when we’ve familiarized ourselves with
pure awareness to such a degree that we never waver from that state.
There’s nothing more to hope for than that.”
Khen
Rinpoche’s words trailed off as he finished his explanation, and he
stopped talking.
together,
we sat in silence, resting effortlessly in the beauty and simplicity
of the present moment. The words of these great masters stay with me
to this day. When people ask me about the Great Perfection, I have
nothing more to say than to repeat these simple teachings, which were
entrusted to me like a great treasure by my kind teachers.
