Commentary on the text by Longchen Rabjam “The Precious Treasury of the Dharmadhatu”
To this unwavering state, inexpressible in words and inconceivable by the mind, everything that manifests and exists in the Universe is subject. Such is the boundless domain of the open space of the Dharmadhatu. For one who abides in this domain, everything is the Dharmakaya. Without leaving the sole self-existing awakenedness, effort and attainment remain beyond uncreated primordial perfection.
Prajna Yantra as the Basis of All Practices
Of the five yantras of laya yoga, prajna yantra is the most important; it is the queen among the other teachings. If prajna yantra has not been known by us, the other yantras will bring benefit, but we will resemble a blind person walking with a bandage over his eyes. The basis of everything is vision and awareness. Vision means the nondual view, entering the state of boundless space.
Of course, in Advaita Vedanta there is a philosophical vision, but in laya yoga it is secondary; it does not interest us so much. Naturally, one must become established in Advaita at least at the level of the mind. What does this mean? It means that, at least at the level of logic, one must explain to oneself: “All this is an illusion; everything is Brahman.” For example, someone has taken your thing, and this irritates you terribly, but you must explain to yourself: “All this is an illusion. Everything is Brahman and His lilas, therefore I should have no problems.” That is, at the level of the mind it is necessary to explain to oneself what is happening, so as no longer to be deceived at least at the level of the mind. When a person has become accustomed to perceiving reality in this way, it is said that he has mastered the mental understanding of Advaita.
However, true vision is much higher. We no longer need to convince ourselves or remember what Shankara said about this. We simply abide in an open state; we neither reject nor accept the flickering images and scenes. If some influence on our open state arises, we recall its qualities (purity, perfection, infinity, incomprehensibility) and return to it again. When we continuously recognize the vision, this is meditation, awareness.
The World as a Luminous Space
In fact, all external phenomena are space saturated with light. When you simply imagine that the basis of all things is space, and that it is essentially light, this helps you enter contemplation if it has been lost. Nevertheless, this space is not empty; energies manifest in it continuously. To manifest as energies is the property of space.
It seems to us that there are external objects with their own qualities, and we truly assume that this is that, and this is that. This is not so. One may say that this is not Satya Tejasi, this is not a clock, and this is not a microphone. Of course, in the karmic vision of our present state, this is a microphone, this is Satya Tejasi, this is Dattatreya. However, it is merely energy that we are deciphering in a certain way now, at this very moment.
And if our awareness changes the karmic vision, then the deciphering of these energies will also change. If we enter the karmic vision of deities, then instead of Satya Tejasi, for example, the goddess Tara will be sitting there. Dattatreya will not be as he is now, but in all his splendor, with all attributes and ornaments, alive, blazing with Light. The microphone will be a divine resonator, catching astral sound and spreading it throughout the Universe. Everything will be different. Why? Because our karmic vision has changed, and we have begun to decipher energy through the eyes of deities.
Therefore, it is said in the Teaching that everything is a luminous manifestation of emptiness, and this luminosity is energy. If this energy is integrated by us into contemplative presence, then it appears as pure vision, as what it truly is—as light. If this energy is not integrated, is not deciphered—that is, if our karmic vision is dualistic and conditioned—then it appears as something separate, coarse, and leads us into delusion. This boundary between samsara and nirvana is very subtle. Those who integrate it into contemplative presence and recognize it enter the path of nirvana. Those who do not recognize it enter the path of samsara, of new births and sufferings.
Recognizing Energy Through the Causal Body
What determines whether we recognize this energy or not? Recognition comes when we look at all things directly, without evaluations and judgments, in their true suchness, when we see any energy with what we might call our causal body, rather than with the superficial mind. That is, to be in presence means to look at the world through the eyes of the causal body. (I hope everyone understands that the causal body has no eyes; this is simply an expression.) And then the energy is recognized and becomes what it already is — pure light, a play of the light of the five wisdoms. One can look at the world through the eyes of the causal body only when one contemplates nakedly, that is, when there is no acceptance or rejection, no being seized by conceptual consciousness, by the superficial mind.
When does being seized by conceptual consciousness occur? In the case of sharp acceptance or rejection, in the case of projections into the future and clinging to the past, and in the case of ordinary unconsciousness. When none of this is present, we are very close to naked awareness. Becoming accustomed to contacting the world in this way, we discover that all objects are such energy. And when we are in presence, we see that this energy is part of ourselves, and we feel that we can already integrate some energy, that is, absorb it into our awareness and dissolve it — for example, the energy of thoughts and emotions, our own anger or attachment.
As you understand, an ordinary person cannot do this. I saw a woman on a train at the border who was almost on her knees begging a customs officer to let her coffee maker through, wringing her hands and shedding tears. For her, it was truly a shock that the customs officer did not allow it, and she was genuinely suffering. This is an example of an emotion that had not been dissolved. For a monk, however, such a situation is simply comical.
At the initial stage, practitioners also have things they cannot yet dissolve. But as the practice of recognizing the world as energy and luminous space progresses, the number of objects we can integrate into contemplative presence increases. If we can already dissolve our thoughts, then the turn of coarse emotions comes. If we can already dissolve emotions, then the turn of the pranas in the body, the elements, comes, when the yogin can, by the power of presence, seize the prana and introduce it into the sushumna. If the coarsest and strongest pranas can be introduced into the sushumna, then the turn of the physical body comes.
The Nature of the Mind as Bindu
Since the spherical bindu of Being is devoid of curved angles and facets, its space fills everything without exception just as it is.
The nature of the Mind (prajñāna) is often spoken of as bindu — a transcendent point, a transcendent sphere. In this space there are no qualities, coordinates, latitude or longitude, designations, cardinal directions, zenith or nadir, north, south, or east. One could say that it is a dense, empty volume that spreads boundlessly and is saturated with energy. It is not even three-dimensional, but possesses an infinite number of dimensions. This volume is conscious, alive, luminous, and completely saturated with light. In its level of consciousness, it surpasses our human awareness.
That is, external objects only seem inanimate. When you are in deep presence, everything comes alive. Suddenly you feel a certain mystery that permeates every object, and you begin to see the living even in stones and trees. You feel something elusive, slipping away, very much alive, surpassing you in every respect. This is the beginning of the state of the single “taste.” And you can only marvel at this mystery of the living in everything. When you deepen presence, this living consciousness begins literally to shine through everything. A feeling arises as if thousands of deities from every object are coming toward you, singing and giving transmissions. Every object becomes something wondrous.
Once I was in the city and wanted to buy myself a pen. Since I was very deeply in presence, using any situation, the kiosk in my vision radiated wondrous brilliance, sounds, and deities that could not be seen, but this caused such intense ecstasy that I forgot it was a kiosk I had been going to in order to buy a pen. There was a desire to bow down or begin making prostrations as before a wondrous murti of a deity or saint. In my vision it was not some kind of structure at all; it was the holiest of shrines. That is, when you are in the natural state, everything is such a great shrine for you. You see this shrine even in refuse, even in what is impure.
In the Christian apocrypha, in the Gospel of Peter, there are these lines: “Lift the stone, and there you will find Me; split the wood, and there too am I.” When the natural state is truly realized and you abide in the single “taste,” you see the One in everything; you cannot get away from It anywhere. Even if you run very far away, you see that you are running in It, and It is running in you. When you investigate what this is, you find nothing except boundless space, supremely aware. Then you calm down and see this space continuously.
All Worlds in the Space of the Nature of Phenomena
Both the worlds of the six types of beings and the pure lands of the buddhas are within the sphere of the space of the nature of phenomena, and nowhere else.
Hells, hungry spirits, heavens, asuras, animals, and gods of form are also within this great space. The teaching on the space of light and the natural state is the highest, the most exalted, intended for yogins of the divya category, that is, divine ones. This teaching is greatly revered by the gods; therefore, simply hearing about such teachings is an immense merit. Without a karmic connection, it is impossible to receive teachings of such a level, still less to practice them or have a connection with the Teacher, since these teachings are usually jealously guarded by gods or dakinis.
Many believe that these teachings are suitable only for spiritual geniuses. However, other saints believe that, by virtue of karmic connection, one who is drawn to them, even without possessing intellectual abilities, is capable of understanding that his or her “I” is like the space of light. Otherwise, Mongolian shepherds would not have been able to practice it; nevertheless, many of them even attained the rainbow body.
The Single “Taste” of Samsara and Nirvana
Samsara and nirvana are contained in the state of awareness, possessing a single “taste” in the natural clarity of the awakened Mind.
Usually samsara and nirvana are strictly separated. However, in the “Yogini Hridaya Tantra” it is said in Sanskrit: “yoga is bhoga, moksha is samsara.” In reality, samsara is not some physical place that must be left behind. Samsara is a state of mind. Of course, when we begin practice, we need to generate a very strong renunciation of samsara. Why do many hear the teaching, while only a few attain? Because there is no renunciation, no foundation. One can receive so many transmissions that one’s head becomes flattened by the vessel placed on it during initiations, but if there is no renunciation, it is impossible to attain full realization, since liberation is the way out of samsara. And how can you leave it if your soul was not intending to leave it? This is a paradox. It is like tying yourself with a rope to a post and then trying to run.
Therefore, there is an important preliminary condition: there must be total renunciation of samsara. Nevertheless, renunciation of samsara is not of some external nature; it means the desire to renounce wrong vision, a wrong state, and to develop the right one. At the very least, it is necessary to clearly understand for oneself what “wrong” means and what “renounce” means.
The state of consciousness of samsara is the state in which the mind abides in duality and clings to what it sees, when it falsely assumes itself to be truly existing and objects to be external. Then it plans various kinds of activity and regards all of this as something real, when all situations are interpreted not as the play of emptiness, but as something real. And one should generate the desire to renounce such a state. At the same time, the saints do not call on us to renounce the perception of objects or activity. First, this is impossible. Second, we deprive ourselves of the opportunity to work with energy.
It is impossible to renounce the perception of objects and activity because, even if you completely renounce everything, some part of samsara will still remain if samsara is understood as external. You will still see objects, hear sounds; you will not be able to renounce this completely. The body also has energy that requires a certain activity, action. Therefore, one should correctly understand what is meant when renunciation is spoken of. Renunciation should be understood, first and foremost, as renunciation of wrong dualistic consciousness. When we renounce dualistic consciousness, we see how many things stand opposed to us, since the mind has a tendency to cling to everything that is called samsara.
Even a yogin who has attained the state of holiness has a subtle clinging. There is a treatise on Mahamudra that speaks about subtle states of attainment and about what must be done, how one should literally practice in order to eliminate subtle clinging. It says: “To eliminate this clinging, one must undertake a three-year retreat, and when you come out of it, you must go to places of power, to cemeteries, and practice wrathful sadhanas in order to eliminate the clinging that remains after the three-year retreat. When you eliminate this clinging and become a completely mad avadhuta, one more very subtle clinging will remain. To eliminate it, one must undergo another three-year retreat, and so on. In total, about five such stages must be passed through.”
Thus, when we eliminate one subtle clinging, an even subtler one remains, which an ordinary practitioner cannot see; he does not even know that such clinging exists. Only a Master who has himself walked this path can tell you about it. But when I hear people who study Advaita, yet are tied to samsara with ropes, saying that they are already free as they are, it simply evokes compassion. From their words, it all appears as though complete awakening were something of no value. They may read Nisargadatta Maharaj or Ramesh Balsekar and conclude: “So it turns out we already have enlightenment! It turns out we are originally enlightened; we simply need to acknowledge it.” Even when hearing the right words, they cannot understand them correctly, because the greatest difficulty lies precisely in acknowledging this; and to acknowledge it means to cease being who you are. For example, for an ant to acknowledge that it is the sun means to become the sun, and then the ant will no longer remain.
When we renounce samsara, that is, when an unwillingness arises in us to remain in a dualistic, obscured subject-object state, our mind is placed at a point where it approaches the natural state. Through dream yoga, through kundalini yoga, or when you enter samadhi, you can experience nirvana in the eighth dhyana. That is, by practicing diligently, you will become a particularly successful master in one or two practices. When you are in emptiness, nirvana shines in all its splendor.
True Practice Here and Now
Some ask about the Himalayas and dream of seeing elders sitting in caves in order to receive the greatest instructions from them. But from the point of view of awakening, this is ridiculous. I see no fundamental difference between the Himalayas and Chukhlonka. And how are the elders of Chukhlonka worse than the Himalayan ones? This is a question of your practice and your awareness. If you have a lineage and a sadhana, if you are an impeccable yogin, then you will repeat the experience of all the great saints here and now. But if you have a deluded mind that leads you around by the nose, you will remain the same limited personality, even if you are in India, in Tibet, even among the greatest elders. All this romance is the lot of spiritual dilettantes who have never “smelled” the salt of practice.
The Teaching is where there are saints and where practice is carried out. Gods and siddhas send blessings to where practice is carried out and there is awareness. For example, Tibet no longer exists as a political structure; it is part of China, and the teaching of Tibetan tantra, thanks to China’s annexation of Tibet, is now spreading in the West. From the point of view of karma, this is a misfortune for Tibetans, but on the other hand, perhaps the gods wanted to bestow a blessing upon the people of the West and spread the teaching of anuttara tantra there. Over time, the Western level of practice of the Teaching will become as holy and revered as it is in India or Tibet.
However, when we abide in the natural state and practice non-duality, all of this must become equal. Only the place where you are now is important, and only the time in which you are now is important. Therefore, in the tantras there are these words: “What is here is everywhere; what is not here is nowhere.”
The Essence of Spiritual Practice and the Single “Taste”
The essence of spiritual practice lies not in rosy hopes and dreams about tomorrow, but in abiding in the absolute state at the present moment. When we abide in this way, we discover that nirvana is contained in samsara, that what we considered samsara is not samsara. Samsara was only in our mind; we simply needed to change. We were mistaken about everything, but as soon as we entered contemplation, delusions were dispelled. However, as long as we contemplate unskillfully, we do not believe in the power of contemplation, because it does not yield quick fruits, and our mind, which may be like a mad monkey, often deceives us.
Possessing a single “taste” in the natural clarity of the awakened Mind
One nun, while meditating, had the following experience: external objects began to appear to her as completely empty, transparent, as if crumbling away, and then her own body became so imperceptible that she felt she could pass through walls. There is no difference between inner and outer space; you and external objects become equally subtle. And when such a state deepens, a person realizes the single “taste.” I told this nun: “If you continue like this, you will become like the mahasiddhas who left footprints in stones.” Everything depends on the depth of contemplation and on how your contemplation merges with prana. The state of the single “taste” implies that there is neither inner nor outer. The physical body and external objects, in terms of density, resemble a net, something subtle, and therefore can interpenetrate one another.
