Author: Tsoknyi Rinpoche
Publisher: ID Ganga
Year: 2016
Pages: 270
Language: Russian
Format: rtf, fb2
Size: 0.8 mb

In his new book, Tsoknyi Rinpoche masterfully weaves together profound teachings about essential love and the subtle body, generously illustrating them with examples from everyday life, to show how to overcome our fears and limitations and develop the innate wisdom and compassion that we all have.

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• . Tsoknyi Rinpoche

  Tsoknyi Rinpoche is a reincarnated lama who received spiritual training in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition and has been giving teachings around the world since 1990. In this book, he talks about the practice of an awakened state of mind, in the space of which all difficulties and complications naturally dissolve.

• Carefree dignity. Doctrine of the Nature of Mind. Tsoknyi Rinpoche

  In this book, consisting of transcripts of Tsoknyi Rinpoche's oral teachings, the author talks about the Great Perfection of Dzogchen, the nature of reality and the need for its direct comprehension, and also teaches how to remove the veil of ignorance that has darkened our consciousness since time immemorial.

Tsoknyi Rinpoche

Open heart. Open mind. Awakening the Power of Essential Love

Some may wonder: is the opportunity to transform one's own perceptions worth so much effort? After twenty years of teaching and interacting with thousands of people around the world, it has become clear to me that most of us are happy with what we have, what is familiar to us - even if that life causes us pain. The decision to venture into the unknown—to let go of ingrained thought patterns, feelings, and ways of perceiving—even that is too difficult for most to imagine. Who wants to give up the old, good, familiar environment, especially if the price of this endeavor is the need to look at yourself and your way of life with a bold, reasonable and non-trivial look? It is much easier to submit to the social and cultural habits built into us from childhood, to try to improve our inner life while making some changes to our outer life.

This “view” that the Buddha called for does not involve compiling a long list of one's mistakes and shortcomings or plunging into some tranquil mental and emotional state in order to reflect on the nature of the universe. Most of his disciples were laborers and artisans, so the Buddha used the word they understood, “skill,” to describe this kind of perception of the world. A certain combination of responsibility, intelligence and experience is required to develop the skill necessary to sow fields, tend them, harvest crops and bring them to market; sculpt vessels from a lump of raw clay; spin; weave; process metal or wood.

The “skill” with which they performed the work, the Buddha taught, can also be applied to thoughts, emotions and behavior. In other words, people could become more adept at being human by deepening their understanding of their fundamental nature and performing certain practices.

Through curiosity, determination, and practical experience, we will discover the various programs that have ruled our lives for many years. We will be able to understand our life experiences and begin to distinguish between useful life lessons and echoes of fear, competition, anger, discontent and other behavioral stereotypes that have accumulated over the years.

Sandwich problem

A young lady who was hired for a management position in a marketing company recently expressed dissatisfaction with her new job and the behavior of her immediate supervisor.

“Is this the job that was offered to me? - the lady complained. - No. Is my boss a little crazy? More likely. To him, everything—and I emphasize everything—is a fire that must be put out before it spreads. I know that some publicity methods can have a negative impact on a company's image, but they are not fatal.

At my previous job, the atmosphere was quite relaxed. I was launching a product, and we took a slow, incremental approach to launching something new. In this job, I have to run a project under the leadership of a person who sees a crisis in everything and often interferes with what I do. In addition, he is sure that I am aiming for his position, but this is not so. Do I need this job? Certainly. Many people depend on me: my family, friends, colleagues. Do I like his madness? No. But after a few months, I realized that conditions would not change, so I would have to change my attitude and find the right balance between fulfilling my responsibilities and at the same time dealing with a crazy boss and my subordinates who are important not to lose their jobs, as well as with people who Our product may be useful."

I call the problem this woman was facing “the sandwich problem.” She found herself in the role of cheese and tomatoes sandwiched between two pieces of bread. I first noticed the sandwich problem in Asian countries where I was teaching. Many men seemed torn between wives and mothers, each of whom asserted her supremacy in the family. Usually the husband submits to his mother as the eldest in the house, but some wives, especially those of the younger generation, challenge the traditionally unlimited power of the mother-in-law. Both sides of the sandwich put pressure on the man. He needs to recognize that sometimes a problem may not have a solution and that the absence of a solution is the solution to the problem. He can't take sides. He must give each side, each “piece of bread,” to come to a solution to their own problem.

At first glance, it appears that the person has simply given up, but in fact this approach is a clever means of allowing people on both sides of the fence to resolve their differences on their own.

Virtuosity

For many years, scholars and translators have linked the Buddha's teachings on mastery to the concept of—as it is often described—the “virtuous life.” This concept creates anxiety in the hearts of people who are not familiar with Buddhism (in fact, those who have been practicing for a long time). I recently heard a man attending a teaching where we were discussing virtues whisper to someone nearby, “Does this mean I have to delete all the rap music from my iPod?”

I don’t know whether this conversation took place between them and in what exact terms, but what came to me - given my own checkered life history - caused me to laugh uncontrollably; I haven't had this much fun in a long time, to tell the truth.

Over the centuries, the topic of virtue has been discussed and interpreted in different ways in various schools of Buddhism, as well as within other religious and philosophical traditions. Scientists and translators joined the debate, expressing their views. There are many stories of Buddhist monks living after the Buddha's death who took unprecedented precautions to avoid stepping on or accidentally ingesting insects.

Naturally, people wonder what virtue means in the context of modern life with its abundance of choices and tasks. At various times I have been asked: “Should I become a vegetarian?”; “So I should give up sex, drinking and delicious food?”; “Should I stop watching TV?”; “So I shouldn’t spend time with my friends?”

Of course, we can talk at length about the benefits of a modest lifestyle. The less time we spend on various kinds of distractions, the more we can devote to monitoring our lives, the influence of thoughts, feelings and actions not only on our own lives, but also on the lives of all those people with whom we come into contact. However, this is only one aspect of a skillful life that can be called virtuous.

In a broad sense, virtue or the virtuous life as I understand it is similar in meaning to the Hippocratic Oath that doctors take: first, do no harm. The earliest and most enduring definitions of virtue involve refraining from actions that harm others, such as murder, theft, sexual violence, lying, slander, and slander. Interestingly, the list also includes actions that are harmful to the person committing them, such as abuse of intoxicants, food and certain types of habitual activities - concepts that existed long before modern medicine developed the terms “addiction” and “obesity.”

The Tibetan word geva, which translates as “virtue,” has a deeper and more meaningful meaning. Like the old Middle English word vertue, which referred to the effectiveness of medicinal herbs and other plants to enhance certain properties of the body and mind, heva refers to making choices that increase our intellectual and emotional strength, manifest potential power, awaken confidence and increase our ability to help. those in need of help.

For example, several years ago, a student of mine told me about the efforts she made to spend time with her elderly mother. The mother became ill, but refused to move from her apartment to a special medical facility with care for the elderly. Despite her stressful job in New York, this woman took time off every couple of weeks to visit her mother, spend time with her and even, as she put it, “sit in front of the TV in the living room, watching terrible sitcoms that I hated, but who made my mother so happy. I sat through until the end because I loved watching her laugh so much. Somewhere in the depths of my soul, I felt lighter, stronger and broader when I heard her laugh despite the severe pain.”

A few months later, her condition worsened, so the woman had to arrange medical care at home. But every time she came to visit her mother, she took on the duties of a nurse: she washed her, dressed her and put her to bed. “Of course, it wasn’t easy,” the woman admitted. “But one night I realized that I was doing the same thing she did when I was a child. And then something switched in me. Even knowing that my mother was getting worse, I was able to free myself from the heavy burden of sadness as soon as I began to perceive the time left for the two of us as an opportunity to repay what she gave me.”

A few months after her mother's death, she began to take an active interest in the well-being of her elderly housemates, talking to them, visiting them and occasionally having dinner with them. “I developed a kind of positive addiction,” the woman explained. “I realized that not only did I have these skills, but I also had a strong desire to be useful.”

Her skill, coupled with her desire, extended to her relationships with her colleagues. “I'm not a big fan of crossing professional boundaries,” she said, “but if I see someone having a bad day or struggling with a project, I'm more willing to ask if everything is okay and offer my help. In most cases, as I have noticed, people just want to vent. They need to be listened to. And I'm glad to listen, because it feels more like practice than blindly focusing on your own career and goals. It seems to me more and more that in this life we ​​are all together, that there are higher goals than achieving the planned level of income.”

The third and final interpretation of virtue came from a conversation with several friends and students from different countries. Artists who excel in their area of ​​specialization are called “virtuosos.” This concept, borrowed from Italian, applies to a person who demonstrates exceptional skill.

It is unlikely that the word "virtuoso" figured in the language that the Buddha spoke or in which his teachings were passed on orally, from teacher to student, for several hundred years before they were eventually written down. However, everything I have learned during my studies, from the teachings I have received throughout my life and from my own experiences as a teacher, counselor, husband and father, leads me to believe that by meditating day and night under a tree in Bodhgaya, India, the Buddha discovered a way that will help us all become virtuosos in the art of living. Each of us has been given the opportunity to recognize within ourselves the amazing capacity for insight, kindness, generosity, and courage. We also have the ability to awaken anyone we meet to their potential for greatness. Ultimately, we will become so virtuosic and able to develop our potential to such an extent that our actions and words - not always stemming from conscious intention - will awaken the “creator personality” in each person.

But in order to achieve this, we must understand what kind of source material we are dealing with. A skilled potter must be able to distinguish the properties and characteristics of the clay with which he works. A master farmer must understand the relationship between soil and seeds, fertilizers and water and apply this knowledge in practice.

In the same way, in order to become virtuosos of humanity, we must first understand our basic nature - the nature of the clay, so to speak, that we were given to work with.

This, in my opinion, is the essence of the Buddha's teachings. It is within our power to become virtuosos of humanity. This process of transformation involves a consistent analysis of the attitude towards oneself and the world around us. Once we incorporate this analysis into daily life, the possibility of feeling unimaginable fullness and joy in every moment of life becomes a reality. This approach, introduced by the Buddha 2,500 years ago, encourages us to look at ourselves outside the context of the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, other people and the world around us.

Who are we? What are we? How can we learn not just to survive, but to thrive in the midst of the problems that we face hour after hour, day after day, year after year?

Spiritual guides, scientists and philosophers have been looking for answers to these questions for generations.

And the answers may surprise you.

When I was very young, I would often sit on my grandfather's lap while he meditated. At two or three years old, of course, I had no idea what it meant to meditate. My grandfather did not give me instructions and did not share his own experiences with me. And yet, sitting on his lap, I felt deep calm and at the same time, with childish fascination, I watched what was happening inside and outside me. I felt that I was gradually noticing something inside me, inside my own body, mind and heart becoming brighter and more powerful.

It's something that I've only been able to put words to as I've grown older, a kind of spark that illuminates the lives of all beings. People of different professions have given it different definitions; its nature has been debated for centuries. In many Buddhist teachings, this spark is called “Buddha nature.” Don't worry! This does not mean at all that you should, wrapped in rags, beg for alms and wander around the villages preaching. In fact, this term is a rough translation of two often interchangeable Sanskrit words, which sound like sugatagarbha and tathagatagarbha. Sugata roughly means “gone into bliss,” and tathagata is often translated as “gone into suchness,” or “thus gone.” Both words describe those who, like the Buddha, have risen above or “transcended” contradiction, illusion, or any kind of suffering—a state that can rightfully be called “blissful.” The word garbha is most often translated as "essence", although on a more subtle level it also means "seed" or "root". Thus, a more accurate translation of the concept of “Buddha nature” would sound like “the essence of one who has gone beyond contradictions, illusions, etc. and is in a state of cloudless bliss.” One of the fundamental teachings of Buddhism is that we all have this essence, this root or seed.

Buddha nature is difficult to describe, but only because it is limitless. It is not easy to place limitlessness within a clear framework of words and images. Teachers of other spiritual traditions have struggled with a similar problem. Even modern scientists resist the idea of ​​capturing the entire physical world in one decent, neat, and precise frame. Albert Einstein, the great scientist of the 20th century, dismissed quantum physics—the principles of which allow us to comb grocery store shelves with a single swipe of a scanner or use phone apps to communicate with friends and family—as “creepy science.”

Well, understanding the nature of Buddha may indeed seem like a creepy undertaking for some, but this knowledge has been repeatedly tested and tested over the past two and a half thousand years. Although the actual experience of awakened nature cannot be absolutely defined, many people over two millennia have at least tried to clarify the direction of movement, using words as beacons along the way.

Emptiness

It so happens that one of the words that describes the basis of who and what we are - and, in fact, the basis of all phenomena - is usually translated using the term emptiness, or emptiness, a concept that at first glance may seem frightening, leading to the idea - and it was held by early translators and commentators of Buddhist philosophy - that our very existence is permeated with a certain emptiness.

Most of us have felt emptiness in one way or another at some point in our lives. We asked ourselves: “What am I doing here?” It can refer to work, relationships, home, a body with cracking and aching joints, a mind with fading memory.

But if we look deeper, we will see that the emptiness that we sometimes feel in life is actually a rather positive phenomenon.

Emptiness is a rough translation of the Sanskrit term shunyata and the Tibetan concept of tongpanya. The basic meaning of the Sanskrit word shunya is “zero,” the infinite space or background that allows anything to appear. The Tibetan word tongpa means "empty" - not in the sense of a vacuum or the absence of something, but rather in the sense of the basis for all experience, lying beyond our ability to perceive through the senses, describe, label, or record as a combed, neat concept. Perhaps words like “incomprehensible” or “ineffable” would more accurately convey the deeper meaning of this concept. The Sanskrit syllable ta and Tibetan nyi do not carry much meaning on their own, but when combined with an adjective or noun they convey the meaning of perspective.

So when Buddhists talk about emptiness as the basis of our existence, they do not mean that we are all nothing, zero or empty space - such a judgment can lead to a rather cynical view of life. Let me give you an example of an old, old story about a man who spent many years in a cave, meditating on emptiness. Mice were constantly scurrying around the cave, and one day a huge mouse jumped onto the stone that the man was using as a table. "Ha! - he thought. “The mouse is emptiness.” He grabbed the shoe and slammed the mouse, thinking: “The mouse is empty, my shoe is empty, and killing a mouse is also empty.” But in essence, with this action, he simply distorted the idea of ​​emptiness and clothed it in the concept that nothing exists, and therefore he can do whatever he wants and think as he wants, without being responsible for the consequences.

The idea that nothing matters is a very simplified understanding of emptiness. The actual teaching of emptiness implies a limitlessly open space that allows anything to appear, change, disappear and reappear. In other words, the main meaning of emptiness is “openness” or “potential.” At the base level of our existence, we are “empty” or free of definable characteristics. We are not defined by our past, our present, or our own thoughts and premonitions about the future. We have the potential to experience absolutely everything. And this also applies to thoughts, feelings and physical sensations.

But to truly understand emptiness, you need to experience it, and here I will share with you a story that a student told me - the story of how he, one after another, lost his job, his home, and both his parents.

“When all this happened,” he said, “I spent a lot of time just observing the pain, disappointment and bitterness of loss that I felt. And while I was looking at this whole huge lump of sensations, it occurred to me to divide it into smaller pieces.

Working on myself, I gradually began to feel - not only in theory, but also in practice - that I was not my pain. What I am is not disappointment or sadness. Whoever and whatever I was, I remained an observer of my thoughts, feelings and the physical sensations that accompanied them. Of course, I felt heavy and wanted to turn back time. But as I watched what was happening in my mind and body, I suddenly realized that there was something more within me than these experiences, something more substantial, something broader, purer and more forgiving that I had never experienced before. An open space that simply took it all in and let it go, without personifying or putting anything into words. I felt it in the very core of my being. Oh, I can’t even explain...”

He actually explained it very well—at least as well as he could—because the experience of emptiness defies verbal description. A traditional Buddhist comparison says that this is like giving candy to a mute person. The mute feels the sweetness of the candy, but cannot describe its taste to anyone.

Perhaps I can offer a more modern example.

Movies

About twenty years ago I went to visit my brother Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche at his monastery in Boudhanath, on the outskirts of Kathmandu. We were sitting at lunch in one of the restaurants, laughing and talking. And then I noticed that the man at the next table was looking at me intently, and I began to get nervous. At some point, Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche was gone, and the man came up to me. He introduced himself as Bernardo Bertolucci and said that he was making a film in Nepal called "Little Buddha."

Tsoknyi Rinpoche is a reincarnated lama who received spiritual training in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition and has been giving teachings around the world since 1990. Tsoknyi Rinpoche's teaching style is a special live game between him and his audience. With his spontaneity, expressive gestures and examples used, he instantly leads listeners to understand the deepest truths of Buddhist teachings. During meditation classes, he not only leads the practice, but also takes a direct part in it, enriching the experience of those present.

Imprint

2016
Foreword by Richard Gere
Translation from English D. Babina
Hardcover
Format 84x108/32
296 pp.
Circulation 1000 copies.

What is this book about?

Daniel Goleman

Sogyal Rinpoche,

This book would be a good addition

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Excerpts from the book

Observation

Life is a challenge.
Life is also an opportunity.
Moment after moment, day after day, week after week, year after year, we are faced with various obstacles that seem to test our endurance, faith and patience. Often we watch helplessly and weakly as we turn into slaves of transnational corporations, bosses, friends, family or time. But it is not at all necessary to lock yourself in captivity. You can embark on a journey that will allow you to reconnect with the enormous potential of openness, warmth and wisdom.
However, it will require a fresh look at the circumstances we face, be it chronic illness, childhood trauma, relationship problems, loss of a job or a roof over our head. Even though the message I was taught came from a man who lived 2,500 years ago, it still applies today.
What is the essence of the message?
Watch your life. Watch how you present yourself and how you define what you can achieve. Take a look at your goals. Pay attention to the pressures from the people around you and the culture in which you were raised. Look again. And again. Look until you understand, from your own experience, that you are much more than you think you are. Don't stop looking until you see the wonderful heart and the magical mind - the fundamental basis of your being.
In that same situation on the bridge that I described a little earlier, I took the issue of observation seriously. Instead of looking for another way, I stepped back and began to look at the crowds of people walking across the bridge. Some of them even pushed carts loaded with heavy boxes. They all looked cheerful and carefree, just going about their business.
“Why am I so scared?” - I was surprised.
After a couple of moments, it dawned on me why. As a child, I loved risky undertakings: climbing the highest branches, climbing mountain canopies - everywhere where even goats did not wander. During these adventures I picked up my share of bumps and bruises, and the pain I experienced then was imprinted on my physical body. The physical pain triggered an emotional response in the form of fear of the possibility of falling. Both the physical and emotional reactions combined to form the idea that heights were dangerous.
In simple terms, a program emerged: a tightly knit knot of physical, emotional and conceptual reactions that I accepted as fact, as some truth about who I was and what the circumstances in which I found myself were. When I stepped onto the bridge for the first time, I was completely overwhelmed by this attitude. I became my fear. And fear became me.
“Okay,” I thought. “I see a program here, but is it applicable here now?”
Of course not. The glass was super strong. The rest of the people crossed the bridge without any problems. From a rational point of view, the program made no sense. I tried to cross the bridge again - and again I couldn’t. In my mind I understood that I would not fall, but I stood frozen in place.
So I stepped back again in an attempt to understand what was stopping me from moving. After a few minutes of reflection, I realized that the fear program was so deeply embedded in my mind, feelings and physical sensations that I began to perceive it as part of myself, part of who I considered myself to be, and how I designated the world around me. This kind of self-identification is the “glue” that holds programs together.

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What is this book about?

In his new book, Tsoknyi Rinpoche masterfully weaves together profound teachings about essential love and the subtle body, generously illustrating them with examples from everyday life, to show how to overcome our fears and limitations and develop the innate wisdom and compassion that we all have.

“Tsoknyi Rinpoche has the unique gift of combining heartfelt wisdom, crystalline clarity of thought and playfulness of mind on the path to awakening. We enjoy the opportunity to be with Rinpoche in these life-filled pages as he guides us along a path of practical psychological insights, funny stories, and profound methods of spiritual practice. This book is a masterful guide to opening the mind, finding true meaning and a spark of kind-hearted love for all those who strive to live a more joyful and fulfilling life."
Daniel Goleman
author of the book "Emotional Intelligence"

“Tsoknyi Rinpoche is a true gem, a teacher who combines in his teachings a deep understanding of the Buddhist tradition and a stunning understanding of the essence of the problems of today's world. In this book, he masterfully weaves together the profound teachings of essential love and the subtle body, generously illustrating them with examples from everyday life, in order to show how to overcome our fears and limitations and develop the innate wisdom and compassion that we all possess.”
Sogyal Rinpoche,
author of The Tibetan Book of Life and Death