Since spiritual practice is a very serious matter, we as yogins have no right to make a mistake. Some mistake in practice may lead us astray, and we will make a detour of, for example, a hundred thousand lifetimes. Of course, for nature, for the Universe, a thousand lifetimes or a billion years is nothing; it is only a flash, but for a practitioner this is highly undesirable. Perhaps we are now in a human body only because at some point we made a deviation in practice, and therefore had to be born again.
On the one hand, the teacher encourages the student to be independent and self-sufficient, not to become attached to him as a physical body, to rely on himself, to become established and find support within himself, and to fully open his own enlightened consciousness. If a teacher binds the student to himself as a person, as an individual, or simply does not teach the student self-sufficiency or independence, then this is probably mara in a form that does not reveal his true nature. The teacher’s task is to push the student toward his own nature, to teach him to attain himself through himself. But when a student tries to become established in himself, he opens different layers of consciousness. And if he is completely inexperienced, these layers entice him one after another; it is difficult for him to avoid all these temptations and not fall into temptation. In order to avoid possible deviations and to balance being captivated by one’s own nature, the necessity of texts and the Teacher’s lines of succession is always spoken of. When the next layer of consciousness wants to tempt the student’s consciousness, from outside there will always be a bamboo stick or a kind word for him.
It is impossible to attain the natural state simply by studying texts and reflecting on the teaching. The teachings of both the tantras and the anuttara tantras especially emphasize the importance of compassion and devotion. It is much easier to recognize the naked state of mind if the mind is filled with devotion to one’s root Guru and the great teachers of the line of succession, or if we are filled with compassion for all living beings to such a degree that tears well up in our eyes. At that moment, pray: “May the understanding discovered by all the Buddhas of the three times—past, present, and future—arise in me at this very moment exactly as it is.” Receiving these blessings depends mainly on ourselves and on the degree of our openness. In essence, it comes down to our own devotion. It is not enough to compile a list of all the texts we have read aloud, all the multitude of mantras we have accumulated, and all the hours spent on the meditation cushion. Such spiritual pretense is not sufficient to guarantee understanding. Dissolving the Guru into yourself, imagine that your mind mixes inseparably with his mind, and then maintain this state of great primordial bliss, free from attachments to clarity or emptiness. Here, great bliss refers to the quality of immutability. This state is also called emptiness endowed with the supreme of all aspects, inseparable from immutable great bliss. Truly abiding in the natural state, one should try not to focus on what we see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. Although the five sense organs are wide open, the natural state should remain undirected.
Note that it says here, “the five sense organs are wide open.” This means that perception does not hinder our practice of meditation. If there is a tendency toward closedness, toward the mind withdrawing inward, this is a kind of shrinking, a contracting of the mind. Of course, in meditation the eyes may close; however, when we are in the waking state, when we walk and talk, then from the point of view of the practice of contemplation, it is incorrect to draw the mind inward, making consciousness frozen and lifeless. Otherwise, this will simply be pratyahara, raja yoga. Such a yogin may sit in a cave for a thousand years with frozen consciousness, but one cannot say that he has realized true nonduality. Therefore, the phrase “the sense organs are open” means the fullness of what is perceived simultaneously with the practice of natural contemplation.
With such a practice of the fullness of contemplation, you truly attain flexibility. When flexibility of mind is attained, it means that you never have impure consciousness, that you do not lose connection with the Source even for a moment.
We do not focus on what is perceived as this or that and do not give things names. This is called the absence of support or the absence of an object of the natural state.
Absence of Support
The absence of support means that the mind, consciousness, is unfixed. Any novice understands that we do not seek support outside ourselves; that is, we do not seek support in material life, in parents, relatives, male friends, female friends, status, fame, honor, or money. We do not seek support even in dreams of a spiritual career: “Someday I will become a great Guru, I will preach, I will travel halfway around the world, I will conquer the hearts of many disciples, I will open many temples, and I myself will sit upon the vyasasana, showered with flowers.” For a true practitioner, such childish dreams and the attempt to seek support in something external are, of course, unacceptable. All of this is also a variety of maya. If karma comes together, you can be anyone. That is, you can hold the position of dishwasher, guardian of the Dharma, mentor, Guru, Shiksha-Guru, or Diksha-Guru in accordance with karma, your abilities, and your attainments, but the mind at the same time seeks neither pleasure, nor honor, nor a spiritual career. In essence, a true yogin sees these roles as equal. It is similar to the fact that, by and large, it does not matter to an actor whether he plays a king or a soldier.
We come to the monastery for a specific purpose — to realize awakening. This means that we do not seek support outside ourselves, so we need to analyze our consciousness and reflect in this way: “Having put on a monastic kurta, am I not continuing to seek support outside myself, to become attached to others, to desire connections with relatives and the world?” That is, there is nothing wrong with maintaining connections for the sake of reassuring relatives. The question is whether your soul wants to maintain such connections, whether there are still attachments within you. We must constantly analyze ourselves and, noticing such supports, ask ourselves the question: “Will my clinging to such supports lead to liberation, or will it lead me to suffering?”
When we stop finding support, we need to analyze further in order to understand whether we are trying to make a support out of service, out of our exalted qualities. Having purified ourselves a little, we see that we have become purer than others, we perform service better, we are held up as an example, we are entrusted with responsible positions, we practice well, we get up earlier than everyone else and go to bed later, and at the same time we have a good padmasana with a straight back. We begin to feel pride because of all this. We make remarks and reproaches to others, feel strength behind us, and are sure that we are right, believing that others abide in tamas, that they are ignorant. And then it is necessary to check whether we have made a support out of our spiritual image, out of our spiritual pride.
We can make a support even out of service, so it is necessary to analyze what we feel when one service is taken away from us and another is given. Do we remain in an even state, or do we experience disappointment and annoyance because this service was taken from us and another was given? Why do we want one service and not want another?
It has been observed that there are no queues for dirty plates, for axes for chopping wood, or for brooms. There is a queue for prestigious service, so schedules even have to be written. This is the tendency of a worldly deity. Such attachment must be overcome within oneself. Whatever service we are engaged in (simple or complex), we need to track down such a support and get rid of it. If we have a computer in our hands, drive a car, set up complex equipment, manage others, work with an axe or a broom, then only when the mind has not the slightest tendency to make a support for itself out of this can the service be performed well. As a rule, complex services and high positions are given precisely to such people, whose consciousness does not become attached to them. Such a person can be trusted with this, because he has no desire to make a support out of it.
When we have understood that we have stopped seeking support outside ourselves, we need to analyze our inner data in order to determine whether we are trying to make a support within. One’s own meditative experiences, one’s own clarity, and finally, emptiness — all these are various subtle kinds of supports. It seems that these are supports for saints, that is, that these are good supports on which it is even necessary to rely. On the one hand, this is so, because experiences really should inspire and uplift; however, clinging to them cancels out all the results obtained. Therefore, by carefully analyzing his own soul, the yogin must also free himself from inner supports.
When bliss is transcended, there is clarity. When clarity is cast aside, there is emptiness. And all of this conceals true non-duality. When emptiness is cast aside, the true face before birth shines forth.
Practice Without Concentration
Since self-existent awareness in itself knows no hindrances or obstacles, there is no duality, no non-dual perception. As long as we remain in a state without concentration, all dualistic states are absent.
To abide in the natural state means to abide without concentration, when the mind is wide open. This does not exclude the fact that we can concentrate on something, since the natural state includes everything. That is, when we need to, we can concentrate and recite mantras. However, we understand the subordinate position of all practices, and even when we concentrate, some part of our consciousness is oriented toward the natural state. At first it is useful to practice concentration and attain dhyanas during meditation. This will help you throughout all your further practice. However, when it comes to the everyday practice of contemplation, this is not concentration but an unfixed state; it is simply awareness.
Six Instructions
It is said: do not analyze, do not analyze, do not analyze your mind!!! Do not grasp, do not grasp, do not grasp at your own mind!!! Do not correct, do not correct — attempts to correct and change only confuse your mind!!! The fabricating mind only obscures your true nature.
This is a very important instruction found in many texts. Some attribute it to Tilopa and say that originally these are Tilopa’s six rules, although they are scattered throughout various tantric texts. Some believe these are Saraha’s instructions.
So, here it says “do not analyze your mind,” and there are exclamation marks at the end. Attention should be paid to this. Instead of engaging in mental self-digging, climbing into your mind, searching for something there, bringing it out into the light, the following is recommended: stop engaging in self-digging, find what is deeper — the mirror of the natural state, leave everything as it is, and simply contemplate. That is, become rooted in a deeper plane instead of engaging in self-digging, because through self-digging you lead yourself away from the truth, and this is a futile matter.
It is useful to periodically analyze prana and the mind, but when you have discovered the mirror of the natural mind, all of this ceases to be necessary; all of it is superfluous. Often yogis engage in such self-digging instead of entering true contemplation. It is as if in a dream you are discussing something, asking a question, and then discussing it again. Instead of waking up, you are occupied with all of this.
On the one hand, we must understand all the nuances of subtle consciousness. On the other hand, there is no need to cling to this or attach importance to it; rather, it must be self-liberated. The mind of an inexperienced practitioner is very branching; it constantly analyzes and comments, keeps various diaries, and so on. The mind of an advanced practitioner is very simple, transparent, and completely subordinated to the Clear Light. He sees that every thought is simply a wave on the surface of the ocean, that thoughts and states in themselves have almost no significance, that they are simply the energy of the ocean. And if one attaches some significance to them, it means exaggerating them and diminishing the significance of the ocean. What difference does it make whether this state is experienced or another? It is like waves that have arisen and will then disappear, while the ocean itself always remains unchanged. Therefore it is said: “Do not analyze!” Instead of creating any judgments, we simply return to the consciousness of the ocean, instantly entering the attunement of the natural state. This is reminiscent of a windshield wiper in a car: snow or rain is falling, and the wiper passes over the glass twice and wipes everything away; nothing remains. In the same way, a yogi experiences anger, fear, pain, joy, bliss, compassion, or a vision of gods. He constantly returns to this pure presence of the Source, and all his experiences instantly disappear; he does not become rooted in them.
The second instruction, with exclamation marks, sounds like this: “Do not grasp, do not grasp, do not grasp at your own mind!” This is a very important instruction; it is even more important than the instruction “do not analyze.” It is said that the sure sign of correct meditation is the absence of clinging to anything. If there is any clinging at all, even the slightest, it means that the natural state is not present, that is, this is not what is needed. When you practice, various kinds of meditations arise in you. In some states you do not want to read or engage the intellect; in some you do not want to look outward; in some you do not want to make an effort, but want to let everything go; in some you want to engage only in concentration; in some you do not want to work, but want to abandon everything and simply sit in retreat or talk. Any meditative states and arising experiences are in themselves neither bad nor good; the main thing is that no clinging to these experiences should arise. If the mind develops a tendency to latch onto something or become fixed somewhere, it means that the natural state has been lost. Therefore it is said: “Do not grasp at your own mind!”
In such cases, teachers often recommend that students do the opposite of what their mind has clung to, in order to feel the equality of the natural state.
An accident happened through the fault of one saint. He was accompanying people who were leading horses, and when the horses bolted at an inn, it resulted in a little boy being injured. The saint was very upset; he thought it had happened because of his sins, because of his bad karma. And when he went to meditate in the mountains, he repented deeply. One day, distressed by this, he decided: “Let the lion that lives nearby in a cave tear me apart, and then I will wash away this bad karma.” He began coming to the cave and kicking the lion so that it would tear him apart, but the lion did not react to him at all. Then he thought: “Then I will lie down in front of the cave. When the lion comes out, it will see me and surely tear me apart.” The saint lay down in front of the cave, and the next morning the lion came out, very carefully walked around him, and went on. When the saint saw this, he suddenly realized the play of his own mind and understood how fixated he had been on his own ideas. Suddenly his consciousness completely changed; he left behind all his clinging, his guilt, his sense of impurity, his thoughts that he had committed a sin, and so on, and simply continued his practice.
The next instruction is: “Do not correct, do not correct, do not correct!!! Attempts to correct will only confuse your mind!” This is also a key to the practice of contemplation. The original primordial state does not need to be corrected; it is like polishing the sun. It is self-perfect in principle, and any of our attempts to correct something, on the contrary, only turn us away from it; they only confuse us. The principle of the natural state is to recognize the perfection of what is right now, without any need to correct anything.
Therefore there is an expression: “The grass will grow by itself.” This means that everything we perceive is already perfect. It is important to constantly remember the fact of this perfection. We may think one way or another, but perfection suffers no loss from this. We must fully trust the nature of our mind, immediately recognizing its perfection. Christians have an expression: “God loves you.” This is the same as the perfection of the natural state; that is, he already loves you, you may do this or that, but the fact has already occurred, you can no longer get away from it. In other words, the natural state is already, in itself, a deep pure state. Even if you are the greatest demon, you are still connected with this natural state.
Therefore, if we want to enter the natural state, we must simply recognize its purity and absoluteness every second, instead of thinking that we will create it with something. Our very disbelief in it does not allow us to recognize this. Then doubt arises in us, and therefore we cannot rely on it. It is important not only to recognize it, but also to rely on it, to rely on that which has no support. When we rely on it, it begins to truly manifest; if we trust it, it acts. It manifests even in everyday life; thanks to our trust, it responds. And our distrust blocks it, preventing it from manifesting.
Question: But is disbelief or distrust itself not a perfect state, and if it is, should one struggle with it? For example, disbelief?
Even disbelief is a perfect state. And if you do not worry about it, recognizing its perfection and absoluteness, then you actually have true faith.
Question: If you see even the most absurd situation as completely perfect and do something, then you look at yourself from the outside as an idiot. You simply see that no matter how bad it may be, it is perfect. And what should one do in such situations?
This is normal vision. In fact, saints see the world only in this way. When many people have gathered, one can see a bunch of idiots, or one can see an assembly of Buddhas, and both are present simultaneously. This is a question of the relative and absolute dimensions, that is, the question is from which side to look at it. One saint said: “Man is God playing the fool.” That is, the idiot is the ego, which identifies itself with the body, with this world, and therefore is in a completely inadequate state.
For example, many Christian saints who discovered this became holy fools. In this sense, they showed the complete absurdity of the false ego. On the other hand, when we practice pure vision, we see the situation differently: we do not pay attention at all to the superficial mind, the kleshas, but perceive the world in pure vision as a mandala, as a deity.
As for the question of how to relate to a situation and whether it needs to be corrected, I will say that it does. Should the kleshas be corrected? I will also say that they should. While recognizing the perfection of both the situation and the kleshas in the absolute sense, in the relative sense sometimes something needs to be adjusted, and there is nothing wrong with that.
Suppose you are in the natural state and recognize the perfection of a certain situation, but in the relative sense it is wrong, for example, a dog is trying to kill a cat or a mouse. In the absolute sense, this is the play of the Absolute, so the situation is perfect, especially since devouring one another is the dharma of animals. That is, there is nothing surprising or reprehensible in this; it is God playing in two bodies. On the other hand, if God is in this body, then you have more free will than the dog and the cat, you are endowed with greater willpower and clarity, and therefore you can correct this situation, for example, save the cat from the dog by shouting at the dog or driving it away. And in this too, the perfection of the situation will manifest.
At the same time, it is important not to identify, not to think that you have done something very good, not to consider yourself the doer. That is, the essence is precisely that there should be no identification: one situation is perfect, and the other is perfect as well. However, if your mind is more flexible in the relative sense, then you clearly remember the law of karma and take it into account, and therefore always act in the most favorable way. If you do not take the law of karma into account, then it means that you have no wisdom.
The same applies to the kleshas. Even if our natural state is perfect, the kleshas should be corrected. If the kleshas are not corrected, one may remain with one’s karmas. The point is that we should not lose contemplative presence and should not identify with the kleshas or with their correction. If we relate to the kleshas in duality, then we cannot recognize their perfection, and so we simply have a dualistic mind dividing things into heaven and hell. If, however, we work with the kleshas in the natural state, then we understand that they too arise from the pure Source. At the same time, we understand that we also need to work with them, and we work with them relying on the power of our natural state. Therefore it is said that we use the power and perfection of the Clear Light to subdue the kleshas. One can simply subdue a klesha by force of will, drive it into a dark corner of one’s consciousness or energy, and keep it there as if in a cage. Or one can do it differently: gently, relaxed, bring the Clear Light into the klesha. And then the klesha will be neutralized, it will cease to affect you and will itself transform into a pure state.
The Fabricating Mind and the Self-Liberation of Thoughts
It is further said: “The fabricating mind obscures your true nature.” The true nature is obscured by the conceptual mind. As an example, clouds covering the sky are given. The sky is always pure and perfect; within it there is a source of light—the sun—but when clouds cover the sky, it seems that there is no sun. In the same way, the fabricating mind obscures the true nature. In fact, any judgment, any perception to which we become attached and on which we rely is such an obscuration.
Our true “Self” contains no fixed ideas. What does this mean? Does it mean that one should make no judgments at all, that one should not allow the mind to move? Not exactly. The instructions on the practice of contemplation say that the natural state is the state in which consciousness is placed beyond thoughts. That is, to be in the natural state means to continuously contemplate that which is beyond thoughts. However, the disciple asks: “Does this mean that I should not think at all, or should block thoughts so as not to lose this state?” The Teacher said: “You have understood nothing at all.” Consciousness is in a state beyond thought, yet thoughts are allowed to continue being produced. But since consciousness is on a plane subtler than thoughts, as thoughts are produced, they do no harm to consciousness; they do not seize it, do not entangle it. Having arisen, they immediately self-liberate. This is like ripples on water or snowflakes that have fallen into water. This principle should be assimilated.
There are people whose consciousness can be changed simply by saying something; that is, at the level of the mind, their opinion can be changed, their state can be changed. These are people who have not yet understood the principle of self-liberation. Suppose, for example, such a person is told that he is a scoundrel—he will feel like a scoundrel. And if he is told that he is a very good holy person, he will be very happy. But this means that mental constructs mislead him. If, however, a yogin has become established in the natural state, then when he is told that he is a scoundrel, this construct instantly self-liberates, because his consciousness has become established on a plane subtler than thoughts; that is, he abides in subtle awareness. And when the contemplation “scoundrel” occurs, the state of “scoundrel” unites with the Clear Light, and the person thinks: “Yes, I am a perfect scoundrel, absolutely pure and spontaneously perfect.” When he is told that he is a saint, he thinks: “Yes, and now I am a pure and spontaneously perfect saint.” It would seem that these are two different states, two different visions, but in fact behind them there is an invisible center, a magnet that reunites them; therefore there is no contradiction between them.
When the yogin has become established on this plane, he understands that such is the nature of samsara, such is the nature of the material world, where circumstances come together in such a way that today you are a saint and tomorrow a scoundrel; that is, all these things are very impermanent. But if you have become established beyond mental constructs, then in reality these are not different things; they are one and the same. And since they are one and the same, one should simply contemplate, seeing their equality and their single “taste.” Therefore it is said that a saint becomes established in a state where blame and praise are one and the same. That is, the single “taste” arises precisely because we abide on such a subtle plane of awareness where all mental constructs are united into a single essence.
Developing the Power of Awareness
Question: You give the example that if one maintains awareness when there is not enough shakti, then blame or praise knocks one out of this state for a while; that is, the mind identifies for a while, but after a few seconds, upon remembering, there is a return to this state. Is this normal or abnormal? Because it is still difficult to withstand this disturbing prana that affects the subconscious.
Of course! Building up the power of awareness in order to restrain disturbing prana is precisely what practice should be directed toward after the natural state has been discovered. That is, saints, while abiding in the same state of nonduality, nevertheless differ hierarchically depending on their shakti. It is precisely the amount of disturbing prana that a saint is capable of liberating that indicates the degree of his realization. Therefore, the yogin’s further progress lies in the self-liberating capacities of the natural state.
It goes without saying that it is difficult for a beginning practitioner to restrain disturbing prana, because his natural state is still weak. It is like a paper fan, like a feather, like a light breeze. And the karmas he encounters, the disturbing pranas, may be like a crowbar, like an iron wall. Therefore we must constantly nurture and protect the natural state with the power of attentiveness, continually returning to it. Disturbing pranas cannot harm the natural state when the yogin has already become established in it, when he has attained the siddhi of the unity of prana and mind.
Suppose that, under a strong disruptive prana, a yogin can instantly unite with the element of earth. Then he becomes unshakable, like a mountain; no disruptive pranas will be able to knock him off balance. But here it is speaking, rather, not about pranas, but about thoughts. That is, we are at least capable of self-liberating thoughts and external information. This does not mean that one should lose oneself in the relative dimension, for example thinking: “Blame and praise are one and the same, so starting tomorrow I will draw fire upon myself. I’ll do something of that sort.” In this case the Dharma Protector will say to you: “And I am a perfect scoundrel!” That is, if you act this way, then you must be responsible for your choice and be ready for the mandala to manifest its wrathful energies toward you; therefore you will have to deal with them and integrate them. Or the world will manifest its wrathful energies toward you; therefore you will have to test your natural state for resilience.
Combining the Absolute and the Relative
It is considered that if you do not see the difference between the absolute and the relative, then you are simply a foolish and shortsighted practitioner; you are still just an amateur in spiritual life. The natural state implies not only the ability to avoid dividing and to liberate everything; it also implies that we can discern and be flexible, manifesting this discernment and flexibility in the place where we are.
Ramana Maharshi was once asked:
– If everything is an illusion and there is no need to discriminate, then if I steal something or kill someone, that too is an illusion. If I think this way, will it be a sin?
Ramana said:
– Yes, it is all an illusion. But you must be responsible for your choice. Therefore, if someone steals from you or starts beating you, you must say that it is all an illusion and suffer no harm from it.
A true practitioner understands that the question of consciousness is one thing, and external energies are another. The law of karma operates even if we say that it is an illusion. It is an illusion that truly affects us. Therefore, a true practitioner acquires the ability to maneuver very flexibly. Within, he has one thing, while outwardly he manifests differently. This is the combining of the relative and the absolute. Often mahasiddhas lived in such a way that no one knew what they were doing; they concealed their mystical powers. And they did this not without reason, because they knew that there is no need to summon disruptive pranas unnecessarily, that the law of karma must always and everywhere be respected, that one must protect one’s consciousness and nurture energy. In other words, if you encounter something in the relative dimension, then inwardly, in your soul, you should recognize everything as pure and perfect and liberate it, while outwardly regarding it as a sign sent to you by the universe, analyzing it and responding in accordance with that sign.
Levels of a Yogin’s Behavior
A yogin is a very profound person, and his visible simplicity stems from his closeness to the Source. This means that he has several levels of behavior: outer, inner, secret, and transcendental. The outer level is his social face, the image created for others; that is, it is simply his manifestation in the external world. The inner level is his personal mystical experience; it is his self-identification with the astral body and with the mind. At this level he may behave differently. For example, this is his behavior in dreams or in the subconscious; it is his behavior with very close Dharma friends with whom he shares samayas, or with the Guru. The secret level of behavior is the deep awareness of the natural state, which is beyond subject and object; it is complete self-liberation. The transcendental level is the complete destruction of dualistic vision as such. And among all these lines of behavior there is no difference, no contradiction.
A young man in America met a lama. This lama, having come to America, founded a Dharma center there; he wore a sweater and jeans, like an ordinary person. And this young man got to know him not on the basis of the Dharma, but as an ordinary person. The monk, the lama, was of very high rank; he was a reincarnate (tulku), while the young man established a relationship with him simply as with an ordinary old man and spoke with him as an equal. When they came to the Dharma center, the monks began to bow respectfully to the lama. The young man said, “Oh, so you’re an idol here!” That is, he had understood nothing at all; he perceived the lama simply as an amusing old man. Later, when he began practicing the Dharma, his mind became clearer, and he began to understand the greatness of the one he had met. This lama, when the young man was getting to know him, played along with him and did not reveal himself in any way. He did not say, “I am a Guru, I am a tulku, I am the vajra holder of the Himalayan ranges.” He communicated with him simply as one person with another. This means that he had a flexible consciousness and skillfully manifested his behavior. He could present himself as an ordinary person, as a teacher, as a deity. He combined all of this within himself, and all of it was within emptiness.
