mind nature

                                           Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

I would like to tell a story about Amtin, a remarkable yogi who lives in Tashi Jong, northern India. His spiritual tradition is the Drukpa Kagyu, but his practice is Nyingma, Dzogchen, like me. When he lived in Tibet, he practiced meditation a lot and became very peaceful. He stayed in solitary retreat for six years, and the retreat situation was very comfortable, very nice. In those days, people would bring food to yogis on retreat, or the yogi had his own ingredients--he could cook up a nice little meal for himself. There was lots of firewood around; when the sun was shining, it could be quite warm; and one might even see a wide-open vista of sky. There were trees all around and various animals could be seen in the forest. The yogi might have some pride: 'I am practicing the Dharma. I am very happy; it is very comfortable for me here. There are no negative emotions, no difficulties, no obstacles. I'm still young.' After six years, Amtin felt that his practice was going very well, indeed. But then he thought, 'Well, who knows, maybe this practice has just turned me into a tranquil vegetable.' So he asked his master, Khamtrul Rinpoche, 'Wouldn't it perhaps be better if I went to a scary place, a rough, rugged, unpleasant place?' Khamtrul Rinpoche said, 'Yes, definitely, you should go to such a place,' and he gave directions to a particular location.

Arriving there, Amtin found a huge cave where the sun never shone, with water trickling down the entrance. In the evening, a large flock of pigeons flew around inside, making a lot of noise while shitting down on him. The first day he didn't know what was going on. He put out various containers to collect the water trickling down, but when he drank from it, he said, 'What is this? It has a strange taste.' Later he realized it was urine from the pigeons. The cave was cold and damp, noisy, and scary at night. As he practiced there he found that his former peace of mind was tracelessly gone. He thought, 'My practice has gone to pieces. Now what should I do?' And he felt that whatever he had done in the past didn't amount to much, so now he really had to practice. It was very difficult in the beginning, with the restless pigeons flying around in the dark. It was like being in the bardo, with all the turmoil and noise. Amtin tried to cultivate this inner strength of rigpa by not surrendering himself to the distraction, by not getting carried away with the noise. He trained like that over and over again. He stayed in that place for maybe another six years. And now, whatever happens, whether it is pleasant or unpleasant, really doesn't affect him. He doesn't care anymore. But that doesn't mean that he ignores everything. I believe that when Amtin dies, he probably won't have that much trouble in the bardo. For him, all emotions are, as they say, subsumed within the expanse of rigpa. In other words, he's free.

Epilogue

At the age of 84, Togden Amtin passed away peacefully in Tashi Jong, India on Friday, July 1st, the 25th day of the fifth Tibetan month, Dakini Day. Dorzong Rinpoche, Choegyal Rinpoche, and Tsoknyi Rinpoche were with him when he passed. Tsoknyi Rinpoche arrived in Tashi Jong at about 2 p.m. that day and went straight to Togden Amtin’s room. Choegyal Rinpoche was already there. Dorzong Rinpoche arrived a few hours later. The three of them were beside Amtin in his final hours. The atmosphere was very calm, and the process of dying happened very smoothly. Earlier on, Togden Amtin experienced some pain, but this passed. In his final moments, Togden Amtin was very much at peace, just like a flame slowly fading. From time to time he opened his eyes, and his gaze was very direct and clear although he no longer had enough power in his body to speak or move.

Just before Togden Amtin’s passing and at the moment of his death, Dorzong Rinpoche whispered instructions in his ear: a reminder of the natural luminosity of mind. At 7:15 p.m., Togden Amtin died. He remained in tugdam for one-and-a-half days; very subtle vital signs were evident. No one went inside his room and the outside was kept very quiet. That night under the cover of darkness, the young togdens came and sat outside Amtin’s hut, mingling their minds with their teacher’s as they said their silent good-bye. When Togden Amtin’s tugdam was finished, all the Rinpoches and monks at Tashi Jong came to pray and offer khatas. The atmosphere was very calm. They prayed the Mahamudra prayer and mingled their minds with their teacher’s. The lay community then arrived to pay their final respects. Togden Amtin dedicated his life to intensive yogic training at Tashi Jong. Though traditionally togdens only pass their teachings on to the younger togdens of their lineage, through his great kindness Togden Amtin taught and gave instructions to students from all over the world. While at Tashi Jong, Tsoknyi Rinpoche was fortunate to receive teachings from him and realize a strong karmic connection. Tsoknyi Rinpoche considered Togden Amtin to be his second Dzogchen teacher, after his father, Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche. Following Togden Amtin’s death, Khamtrul Rinpoche has agreed to officially begin teaching.

Until we reach that level, we need to practice. We must grow used to this freedom. Use as a yardstick your ability to cope with whatever emotion arises. We must transcend being hijacked by the current emotion, being on the defensive against it, or trying to get rid of it. We reach this gradually, as we become more and more stable and confident in empty essence, cognizant nature, and unconfined capacity. Then we discover that the emotion does not necessarily run us over, and we don't need to get caught up in it either. We don't have to prevent or suppress the emotion. Rather, we simply allow it, spontaneously and naturally, to become an embellishment of rigpa.

Fearless Simplicity, pp. 186-187

Sometime go outside and sit,
In the evening at sunset,
When there’s a slight breeze that touches your body,
And makes the leaves and the trees move gently.
You’re not trying to do anything, really.
You’re simply allowing yourself to be,
Very open from deep within,
Without holding onto anything whatsoever.
Don’t bring something back from the past, from a memory.
Don’t plan that something should happen.
Don’t hold onto anything in the present.
Nothing you perceive needs to be nailed down.
Simply let experience take place, very freely,
So that your empty, open heart
Is suffused with the tenderness of true compassion.

                                                                                                                 Carefree Dignity

The daily display of samsaric phenomena is like a motion picture; you relate to it as if it were a movie. It is seemingly real, but when you pursue it, it is not really so.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 258

Not dwelling in any way whatsoever, and yet totally present throughout everything.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 139

Once you understand rigpa experientially, you know what is meant by the ability to enjoy the phenomena of samsara. Before you recognized rigpa, there seemed to be only two ways of relating to samsaric phenomena: one is dualistic grasping, the other is the feeling of futility and wanting to keep it away from yourself. Intelligence means a sense of being capable, of knowing how and what is happening when a thought or emotion begins to take shape. You are no longer blind to what is taking place. Nor is it like in the past, when you got annoyed or irritated, when you got wrapped up in certain feelings for hours at a time before you could finally let go. It’s not like that any more. There is a sense of being awake to the situation that you can call intelligence. You are seeing clearly how it works.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 258

Just as the Dzogchen view is not a conceptual state, meditation is not a conceptual act. It is not a doing. And the view and meditation are not two separate things: whatever the perspective is, that must be the training as well. When the view is free of conceptual attitude, so is the meditation. Please do not forget what was meant by nonconceptual.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 131

When you involve yourself with recognition, there are three topics—view, meditation, and conduct. What is the view? The knowing, the recognizing, right within one instant, of the mind’s emptiness and clarity unified is called the view. When, in just one moment, emptiness, clarity, and the two unified are all there together, that is rigpa. This is not saying that emptiness is recognized in one instant, clarity in another, and their unification in yet another, rather, when all three—emptiness, clarity, and emptiness and clarity unified—are present simultaneously and within one instant, that is said to be rigpa. Ground, Path, Fruition, p. 65

Mt. Kailash, Tibet

The recognition of empty essence—in other words, the insight that realizes egolessness, the absence of an independent entity—is the state of original wakefulness itself. Training in this state perfects the accumulation of wisdom. During whatever formal practice you undertake, do not leave behind this accumulation of wisdom beyond reference point; rather, embrace the particular practice with the recognition of empty essence. Training in this perfects the accumulation of merit, and it does so without your having to hold on to any concepts or struggle to do so. In this way, by simply training in recognizing mind essence, you can simultaneously perfect the two accumulations of merit and wisdom.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 34

People often make a mistake in thinking that the training consists of an attempt to dissolve this knowing quality into emptiness. They try to make nothingness, rather than just leaving this consciousness, this knowing mind, to itself. All you actually need is to let this knowing and awake atmosphere be permeated with emptiness, like allowing the moisture to slowly seep in. It’s not that you have to deliberately dunk your napkin into the water, to just sit there spaced out and not know anything. Rather, it’s more a sense of releasing the conscious quality, loosely. Then, all by itself, the moisture permeates. Our present cognizant quality—just let it be, and then slowly let the empty quality be evident. Speaking from experience, the masters describe this as simply opening up in a very gentle way.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 119

Adeu Rinpoche

Please rest continuously in the pure view . . . self-arising rigpa. How do you do that? Neither blocking off the five sense consciousnesses, nor sending the internal awareness out to external, fixated objects, rest in the first moment, in the present awareness that arises as unhindered clarity. Meditate by staying in an all-pervasive state: this is the state of not grasping at anything at all; it is meditation in the nature of emptiness, not covered by mental reference points. Wake up into rigpa, which has an essence of emptiness, a nature of clarity, and compassionate activity that is all-pervading.

Ground, Path, Fruition, p. 21

There are two important words that may sound a little crazy, but I want you to listen carefully to them: undistracted and not meditating. Undistracted nonmeditation. These two words together actually form one essential expression. Undistracted nonmeditation. To hear this phrase and to understand the vital point communicated through these two words, we need to connect with the meaning of 'meditation free of concepts,' the nonconceptual state. Undistracted nonmeditation, the combination of the two words, means to be both undistracted and nonconceptual at the same time. That is the kind of hammer needed to smash conceptual mind.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 133

What is the difference between the real state of rigpa and the imitation? Check whether or not there is any clinging, any sense of keeping hold of something. With conceptual rigpa you notice a sense of trying to keep a state, trying to maintain a state, trying to nurture a state. There is a sense of hope or fear and also a sense of being occupied. Understand? The keeping means there’s a sense of protecting, of not wanting to lose it, in the back of the mind. This is not bad, it’s good, and for some people there’s no way around training like that in the beginning. Through training in this way, that conceptual aspect becomes increasingly refined and clarified. So you practice more, more, more. Now you have more of a sense of openness, but still you’re holding this openness. All right, then, let the openness go. Let’s say that after two months you let it go. But still you’re staying within the openness—so then you practice letting go of the staying. And somehow there is still a remnant of wanting to achieve it again. So you let that go as well, and slowly again let it go, let it go, until you become very much 'just there,' and finally very free and easy.

Fearless Simplicity, p. 138