Natural meditation refers to our true nature. In a sense we could say that natural meditation is our beginningless or primordial, innate birthright – our fundamental condition and nature. In the Buddhist tradition it is often referred to as buddha nature, and it’s said, “Buddha nature fills all beings; therefore, all beings are capable of buddhahood.” This means that our fundamental nature is flawless and that all of the qualities of buddhahood are already present within us innately.

Indeed, about natural meditation, it is said, “The best meditation is to rest naturally and relaxed.” However, as easy as this may sound, it is actually quite hard for most of us to do. Under the sway of ignorance we are quite deluded. When we attempt to rest in our own true nature we often are not doing so, but are resting in an idea of that nature, a concept of it, or an idea about it. Any idea or concept of the nature is necessarily incorrect and flawed. Therefore, resting in such an idea or concept will not lead to recognition of the nature itself.

To understand how we can actually approach a recognition of this nature, especially as beginners, it may be helpful to employ the concepts that are often used when describing the state immediately after death – the state of the bardo, or interval between lives. In such a context, a distinction is made between what is called the ground clear light or fundamental clear light, and the path clear light. The ground clear light is our true nature. Clear light itself refers to the nature of our mind. Because that nature of our mind is the ground of all experience it is called the ground or fundamental clear light. Now, that ground clear light, our actual nature, is itself beyond delusion and it is also innate within each and every one of us. However, we normally do not see it. It is in fact obscured by our ideas or concepts about it. Therefore, in order to come to recognize that ground clear light we must begin by cultivating what is called the path clear light.

All of the different practices that are done in one’s dharma training are means, either directly or indirectly, of cultivating what we call the path clear light. And, the reason we need to do so is in order to be able to recognize the true nature, the ground clear light, when it arises for us at the time of death. Because whether one is engaged in the practice of dharma or not, as long as one has been born with a physical body, when one comes to die at the end of that life, one will experience the ground clear light. We all will, and do. However, while we all experience the ground clear light at the moment of death, most of us do not recognize it.

Our purpose in practicing dharma, our purpose in cultivating the path clear light, is to be able to recognize the ground clear light.

In order to do that, we engage in various means: means of gathering the accumulations of merit and wisdom, means of purification, the stabilization of the mind with the practice of tranquility meditation, and all forms of deity yoga. All of these have one common purpose, which is gaining gradual familiarity with the path clear light.

If these means are properly cultivated, especially if the mind is stabilized through the practice of tranquility, then the mind gains the ability to some degree to recognize its own nature. That partial familiarity with the clear light on the path will lead at the time of death, when the ground clear light – the nature just as it is – is experienced, to the recognition of it as the ground clear light. One’s familiarity [with the path clear light] gained in that preceding life is called the child clear light. The direct experience of that nature is called the mother clear light. The recognition of the ground clear light as a result of the familiarity gained with the path clear light is called the meeting of mother and child. If this recognition is thorough, and occurs at that time of death, then at that instant, that person is liberated, indeed becomes a buddha. Of this it is said, “In an instant, the difference is made; in an instant, buddhahood is attained.”

Historically, we can see that there are a vast number of ways that people have cultivated natural meditation; they have had different lifestyles and have used different techniques and means in cultivating the path clear light. If we consider the lifestyles of the famous eighty-four mahasiddhas of Buddhist India, we see that each of them lived a little bit differently from the others and they all found a way to integrate the particular circumstances or their individual lives into this training.

For example, one of the best known among them is our forebear Tilopa who, as his name indicates, occupied himself during the day grinding sesame seeds to extract the oil. At night he was a procurer for a prostitute. And, working busily day and night, Tilopa nevertheless used his circumstances to strengthen his samadhi. And then finally, he achieved awakening. As a sign of his awakening, he rose into the sky and sat there, holding his mortar and pestle – the tools he had used for the grinding of sesame seeds and the extraction of the oil – as a metaphor for the exposure of the ground clear light and of buddha nature within everyone’s being. Then, his night-time employer, the Madam, felt somewhat sheepish at realizing that the guy she had been using as a doorman or bodyguard or procurer, was a buddha. And she apologized to him and she said, “I really didn’t know.” And he said, “Oh, you didn’t do anything wrong, you really didn’t know.” And he put a flower on her head and she achieved awakening too. This is just one example, but if we look at the lives of the eighty-four mahasiddhas, what they all have in common is that they all found ways to cultivate natural meditation, to cultivate the recognition of their mind’s nature in the midst of their individual and widely varying circumstances.

So this is something that we try to do today. Here for example, under Erma’s guidance [ed. Rev. Erma Pounds was a well-respected dharma teacher who passed away in 2011], you do various practices such as singing songs, such as that pretty one that I think you call “Buddha Mind.” And these are all ways or techniques to instill in you the practice of natural meditation. And as long as you have a practice that is devoted to that, then you have what you need.

Whether you are studying the biography of the Buddha or a guru, or an aspect of Buddhist history, whether you are listening to teachings on the principles of Dharma or practical instruction in the techniques of Dharma practice, the single most important thing in any of these cases is that it be of real use to you.

For example, if you receive detailed instruction in an elaborate ritual practice, what is most important is that you understand the point of the practice and that you thereby become able to do it in a useful and practical way. If you study a guru sadhana practice, it is especially important that you understand not only how to practice it, but the point of doing so. And this is equally true of any instruction, in any aspect of either the generation stage or the completion stage. If having received instruction, you get the point, then there has been real value in your hearing it. The problem is that sometimes we miss the point and we develop a narrow understanding whereby we think that the particular practice we are doing does not contain the essence of any other practice. And we feel that whatever choice we make in terms of practice, we are going to be missing something else. And this misunderstanding comes from not having understood the basic point.

In his commentary White Lotus, Mipham talks at length about the outer Guru Rinpoche, the inner Guru Rinpoche, and the secret Guru Rinpoche. And I think it is important to reduce all of the information contained in the text to a practical understanding of these three.

Through ignorance, we are already immersed in in samsara. It is too late to prevent that from happening; it has happened. Whether we believe in this or not, because we are in samsara, we are dualistic; we think in terms of self and other. All our interactions with others in the world are based upon dualism and this dualism is, in fact, the greatest impediment to our realization of the true nature of things. We cannot simply hope that it is going to go away or pretend that it is not there. So to begin with, we have to practice in a way that temporarily accommodates our dualism. And this is why meditation on the outer Guru Rinpoche is so useful and so powerful. It is actually the best way for us to pacify our dualism.

When we approach the idea of the sources of refuge or Guru Rinpoche, we very much feel that they are different from us. We think that we are afflicted, dirty, and inferior, whereas the sources of refuge are perfect. In that context it is valuable to think of Guru Rinpoche in an external sense, as an external source of refuge. And therefore, in the context of our dualism, there is great value in devotion to Guru Rinpoche based on an understanding of his life, qualities, and deeds as explained in this text by Mipham.

But when we focus on Guru Rinpoche as a particular being whose deeds we study, we should not think that meditating on Guru Rinpoche is only meditating on Guru Rinpoche. Sometimes, because of our dualism, we think in terms of either/or: “Either I am meditating on Guru Rinpoche or I am not. If I am meditating on Guru Rinpoche, then I am only meditating on Guru Rinpoche. And if I am not meditating on Guru Rinpoche, then it has nothing to do with Guru Rinpoche.” So we have the attitude that if we do a Guru Rinpoche practice, that is meditating on Guru Rinpoche; if we do not do a Guru Rinpoche practice, the we cannot be praying to Guru Rinpoche. If we do a Guru Rinpoche, it is only Guru Rinpoche that we are praying to. And we develop this sense of conflict. But it does not actually work that way.

In each of the four schools of Tibetan Buddhism—Geluk, Sakya, Nyingma, and Kagyu—and within each branch of each of them, there are distinct practices of guru yoga and guru sadhana.  But they are all all‑encompassing. For example, if you are a follower of the Gyalwang Karmapa, you might want to practice the guru yoga of the Gyalwang Karmapa. But you should not think that when you meditate on the Gyalwang Karmapa as your guru, this is only about the Gyalwang Karmapa and has nothing whatsoever to do with Guru Rinpoche or any other guru. If you are a follower of the Gyalwang Karmapa, and your greatest faith is in the Gyalwang Karmapa, then you would perform a guru yoga focused primarily on the Gyalwang Karmapa, but within that primary focus, you should also remember that all other buddhas and bodhisattvas are automatically included (Guru Rinpoche as well).  It is not the case that by performing guru yoga focused on the Gyalwang Karmapa, you have dropped Guru Rinpoche or turned away from Guru Rinpoche because, as is said, “All buddhas are one in the expanse of wisdom.” Therefore, if you practice the guru yoga of the Gyalwang Karmapa thinking, “This Gyalwang Karmapa is the embodiment of all buddhas,” it automatically includes all buddhas. On the other hand, if you are a follower of the Gyalwang Karmapa, but have tremendous faith in Guru Rinpoche, then you could do a guru yoga practice focused on Guru Rinpoche. By doing so, you should not think that you are dropping the Gyalwang Karmapa because when you do the Guru Rinpoche practice, you think he is the embodiment of all buddhas, therefore, encompasses the Gyalwang Karmapa. Practicing it in that way you will receive the greatest blessing and be free from partiality or dualistic contradictions.

So whatever particular practice you do, whatever type of guru yoga you practice, whether it is of the Geluk tradition, Sakya tradition, Nyingma tradition, or Kagyu tradition; and among the Nyingma traditions, whatever terma system you practice, understand that what you are practicing is never exclusive. It is never limited to the particular guru or particular deity who is overtly depicted in the iconography of that practice.

It is never wrong to do a particular practice because they are all all‑encompassing. It is never contradictory to do any one practice. By doing one practice, you are not turning against or dropping other practices. If you understand the point of the practice correctly, it is never missing anything; it is never incomplete, because each and every one practice is complete. For example, in some guru yogas there is a prayer, “I pray to the precious guru: Grant your blessing that my self fixation is eradicated or pacified, that I be free from neediness, that non‑Dharmic thoughts cease, that I realize that unborn mind itself,” and so forth. If you think about the meaning of such prayers, it is flawless. There is nothing missing from them, there is nothing wrong with them, they are worthy of rejoicing.  Nevertheless, some people could practice such a prayer and achieve the opposite. As they pray, “Grant your blessing that my self‑fixation be pacified,” and they accumulate this prayer hundreds and thousands of times, their self‑fixation could be growing and growing continuously. As they pray, “Grant your blessing that I be free from neediness,” their neediness (attachment) could be growing and growing all the time. Even as they pray, “Grant your blessing that non‑Dharmic thoughts cease,” their non‑Dharmic thoughts could be multiplying. Then as they pray, “Grant your blessing that my delusion be pacified in its own place,” their delusion could be getting more and more reinforced. And as they pray, “Grant your blessing that I realize the nature of my unborn mind,” they could be so far from such a realization, that it would seems merely like a historical event that somebody at some point realized it. This is a case of medical treatment not working. Dharma is like medicine. If you take medicine, you should get better. If the more medicine you take the worse you get, then the medicine is not working. But in it is not the fault of the medicine or Dharma. It is not that there is something wrong with that prayer or something wrong with the Dharma we practice. It is that we, as individual practitioners, are the only people who have the power to make our practice work. We are the only people, as individuals, who can focus our minds, our practice, on what is important, and thereby make it actually work. Therefore you have to be sincere when you pray.  And if you visualize, for example, Guru Rinpoche with his retinue and you sincerely pray to them, “Please grant your blessings of body, speech, and mind. Please pacify my kleshas. Please bring me to liberation,” and if you really mean it, it will really happen. But you really have to mean it. Therefore, there is great value in understanding the external form of Guru Rinpoche as explained in this text by Mipham, particularly as a way to overcome dualism.

Sometimes, because we have difficulty relating to a supplication or prayer in guru yoga, we become frustrated and we feel that the practice is not working, that things are getting worse. We become angry at ourselves, frustrated with the practice, and we may even regret doing it. In such instances, it is helpful to turn from the outer Guru Rinpoche to the inner Guru Rinpoche.  There is an inner reason for Guru Rinpoche’s name, Lotus Born or Padmakara. Padma literally refers to a lotus flower. And as we observe in the natural world, lotus flowers tend to grow in very muddy, somewhat stinky swamps. But the beauty and purity of the flower, when it blooms, is completely unstained by the swamp from which it emerged. There is an inner meaning to this. The nature of our mind—that which we are attempting to recognize—is exactly like a lotus flower in that regard. No matter how swampy, no matter how dirty you may feel you have become, your nature—the inner Padmakara, the inner Guru Rinpoche—is always pure, always colorful, and always beautiful. This is what we really are. This is our true nature. This is what we seek to recognize. This is what we call absolute bodhichitta.

When teaching Dharma we [teachers] say [to students], “Your nature is perfectly pure. There is this perfectly pure nature within you.” We are not telling you a lie in order to encourage you. What we say is true. Each and every being of the six states, regardless of how swampy or filthy they may have temporarily become, has this same nature. And what we are trying to do is to get this metaphorical lotus to bloom. We are not going to be able to reveal it by getting angry.  Getting angry is just spinning the wheels. It is not conducive to the blooming of this inner flower. Rather, consider how to cultivate relative and absolute bodhichitta, for example, as taught in the Thirty-Seven Practices of the Bodhisattvas. Resentment of our circumstances is not going to help us get better. If someone becomes angry with a physician, when the physician informs them that they have an illness, that is not conducive to their healing. And as far as anger toward others goes, if you see that others appear to be more and more afflicted, more and more fixated, more and more egotistical, even as they are accumulating prayers for the opposite, do not get angry at them. Feel compassion. And it has to be genuine compassion, not the kind of trumped‑up compassion that is merely what you tell yourself you should feel. Feel genuine compassion for them and understand the need to make an aspiration that they become free of what ever it is you perceive afflicts them and that you not engage in the same problem. Make the aspiration that you and all others generate relative bodhichitta and discover absolute bodhichitta.  If you have that sincere aspiration, then you will be able to realize the inner Padmakara or inner Guru Rinpoche because it is always there within you, waiting to be realized.

The Buddha said, “Do not be abusive in response to abuse. Do not be violent in response to violence. Do not push other’s buttons in response to their pushing yours.” These are the rules for those who seek liberation.” It is really up to us whether we remain in samsara or not. We are not going, however, to get out of samsara by giving in to every temptation and every klesha, such as responding aggressively to the aggression of others. No one else can actually keep us in samsara.  For each of you, the only person who has control over whether we stay in samsara or not, is yourself as an individual. So it is up to us. Each and every one of us already possesses absolute bodhichitta, the inner Padmakara. Like a lotus, our nature is stainless regardless of the obscurations that conceal it. And it is called akara or source or origin because that nature is the source or origin for the qualities of all buddhas. So our true nature is already Padmakara. Remember at all times that the inner Guru Rinpoche or inner Padmakara is within you. You are never without it. You are never separate from it. Therefore, you have good reason to sincerely try to reduce our kleshas and increase our qualities.

If you study the lives and teachings of all buddhas and bodhisattvas of the past, none of them had achieved what they achieved without learning to restrain their kleshas and increase their qualities. And none of them have taught that you can achieve awakening without this process.  We need to be willing to change our minds and to develop love, compassion, and bodhichitta.  And if we do develop these, then we will naturally and spontaneously be useful and beneficial to those around us because of our attitudes of mind and how we express them in our actions of body and speech.

When Jetsün Milarepa was advising his disciple, Lord Gampopa, he said to him, “Even when your view becomes as vast as space, still behave in accordance with human custom. And even though you may have achieved the final result, still assiduously accumulate merit even in the smallest things.” This means that regardless of one’s level, even if someone has actually reached the state of great no-meditation—the citadel of dharmakaya—according to the teachings of our tradition, they still need to pay attention to human customs, look at how people behave [in a good way] in the human world and behave in a good way accordingly. We find this taught consistently by all of our forbearers such as lords Marpa, Milarepa, and Gampopa in their realization songs and other teachings.

I attended the 16th Gwalwang Karmapa for sixteen years. Of course, it is very easy for us to say that the Gwalwang Karmapa is the embodiment of all buddhas of the three times and so on. But to actually be in his presence and experience the way he lived is very, very significant. In spite of the fact that the Gyalwang Karmapa is someone who achieved buddhahood countless eons ago, appearing among us as a human being, he still practiced every day. His Holiness the 16th Karmapa would, during the years that I attended him, begin his daily practice recitations—his “personal liturgy” if you will—as soon as he awoke in the morning and would recite it whenever he had a break from the sometimes endless stream of visitors who would come to see him throughout the day. And in spite of how busy he was, no matter how many people came to see him, even if it took him into the middle of the night to finish it, I never saw him not finish his recitation book every day. During the last two or three days of his life, I was attending him. And during those days, he had become so weak physically, as he was dying, that he could not even hold up his chant book. So I (in those days I had two hands that I could use)* would hold up the book with one hand and then turn the pages with the other. And sometimes if I turned it too soon and he had not quite finished it, I would have to turn it back. He went through the whole book every day, even when he was dying. On the last day of his life, he had me open the book, he chanted the first page, and then he told me to wrap it back up and he placed it on his head. So, if somebody who long ago achieved awakening, who is an undisputed nirmanakaya of all buddhas of the three times, lives like that, then what must we do?

Since I was brought up by the 16th Gyalwang Karmapa and because he was the greatest influence on me, the way he lived is the standard that I look to. This is simply what I am used to. I know nowadays there are many lamas who do no formal practice at all and are proud of the fact that they do not chant anything and are never seen to open a book. I have no disrespect for them, although, what they are doing does not really fit into my mind. There is no reason to get angry at such people, at their proud declaration that they are beyond practice. It is important to have a good attitude toward people even if they are doing something that we cannot understand. But because of the influence of the 16th Gyalwang Karmapa, I practice every day. I start my recitations in the morning, and I go through them all every day, no matter how long it takes me and no matter how busy I am.

When we use a liturgical practice, we are not simply using speech. It is not enough simply to recite the mantra OM MANI PEME HUNG. A parrot can do that. We have to experience something in our minds while we are doing that. The purpose in doing practice every day, including liturgical practice, is to gain familiarity in our mind with the meaning of the practice.  So when you practice, there should be an experience in your mind that is recognizable to you.  It will help you if you practice in that way and it will enable you to help others. The most important thing is to understand that this is the correct path; to understand that what you are doing is authentic, that what you are doing is how your root guru achieved awakening and how all other buddhas have done so. So even if you feel you have not attained anything extraordinary, if you have the confidence that the way you are practicing is genuine and authentic, that it is unmistaken, that is the most important thing. That is what will bring the greatest benefit. And regardless of what tradition a practitioner comes from, if they have that, then I think they have the most important thing.

*[Editor's note: Since his stroke in 2010, the mobility of Bardor Tulku Rinpoche’s right hand has been compromised.]

To be continued.

The first thing we have to understand, when talking about bringing adversity to the spiritual path, is that if we engage in spiritual practice, we will be undergoing adversity.

Adversity can take many forms; it can be external, such as physical or environmental, or it can be internal and arise within our mind. As a great abbot of the Sakya tradition, Khenpo Kedrup, once said, “For you all, there are so many adversities and so few conducive circumstances.” What we have to understand, though, is that in spite of the fact that adversity is so conspicuously prevalent in our lives, none of the adversities we encounter are inherently existent. They arise as circumstances that we experience as adverse because of the attitude we take toward them in our minds. And therefore the adversities themselves are secondary to our nature.

It is important, however, to make a distinction in this regard between the situations of persons who bear different degrees of responsibility that affect others. If someone bears the responsibility for something like a dharma center, in which the decisions they make will affect the spiritual practice of many others, that is a whole different situation. But with regard to persons concerned only with their own development—with their own personal practice—fundamentally, what they need to do is maintain their faith and connection. They should especially remain free from sectarianism and ensure that their minds not be overpowered by kleshas.

One of the most important things for us as Buddhists is to understand the meaning of our taking refuge in the Three Jewels, and especially to understand the actual attributes of the Three Jewels in whom we take refuge. We can learn about these things from the many books, teachings given by eminent lamas, and so on. But the point is that if we understand the attributes or characteristics of the Three Jewels, then the whole process of relating to the teachings becomes very easy, I think.

In the context of taking refuge, the Buddha is defined as “supreme among those who walk upon two feet.” That means that the Buddha is supreme among all humans and devas, because he is the authentic teacher.

In the context of the vow of refuge, we define dharma as “supreme among all that is free of attachment.” This means that dharma itself is always free from attachment and all other kleshas.

What is dharma? Dharma consists of two things: tradition and realization. The dharma of tradition exists as written words found in books. Books and the words within them are inanimate. They are not sentient beings and therefore they do not, and cannot possibly, possess kleshas. So therefore the dharma of tradition is immaculate in the sense of being free from attachment.

Realization refers to all of the resultant states and levels of realization gained by practitioners of the shravakayana, pratyekabuddhayana, and mahayana through their practice of the Buddha’s respective teachings. So the realization dharma consists of the states of shravaka arhat, pratyekabuddha arhat, bodhisattva, and finally a buddha. In that state of realization and in the realization itself, the kleshas are eradicated, not increased, and one comes to possess the wisdom that knows the nature of things and the wisdom that knows the attributes of things. So the dharma of realization increases one’s merit and in no way increases or supports the kleshas. It is, therefore, accurate and true to say that dharma is supreme among all that is free of attachment and other kleshas.

In the same context, the sangha is defined as “supreme among assemblies.” In this world, there are a vast number of societies, groups, assemblies, and organizations. Some of these are held together by a common commitment among the members to try to do good; and some of them are held together by a shared commitment among the members to do bad. The Buddhist sangha is defined by the shared commitment among its members to do their best to try to emulate the Buddha. And so we regard the sangha as a source of refuge because it is the next best thing to the Buddha. But the members of the sangha are explicitly not buddhas. Therefore they have kleshas. If the members of the sangha did not have kleshas, they would not need to practice dharma and would not be members of the sangha. A sick person will take medicine; someone who is completely free from illness is not going to take medicine because they do not need it.

The problem we experience very much nowadays is that we are unable to tell the difference between a spiritual tradition and those who practice it. When we encounter upheaval, adversity, disputation, or controversy in a religious or spiritual tradition, we immediately denigrate the tradition itself. We say, “Well, this tradition is simply no good.” But this comes from our misapprehension of the behavior of some of the members of the tradition as something inherent in the tradition itself. This is a problematic misapprehension for us because it causes us to lose respect for genuine spiritual traditions. And, for example, if we are Buddhist practitioners and we lose respect for our own tradition, it harms us tremendously because we leave the path. Without pursuing the path, we find ourselves unable to tame our minds and our kleshas.

Even when there are problems, we need to recognize that dharma itself is pure, but the humans who practice it are human beings who should be expected to be imperfect. The nirmanakayas who intentionally take birth among us in order to teach us and guide us to liberation—however they may appear—are essentially free from affliction. But practitioners, all of us, have all five kleshas functioning fully. The amount of kleshas that we have and the degree we fall prey to them is based on our attitudes, our intentions, and our previous karma. Whenever we act out our kleshas, this is not coming from dharma, this is coming from us as people.

In order to survive upheaval or adversity, we need to learn to distinguish between the dharma and the sangha, and to recognize that after all we are practicing dharma because we all have kleshas. No matter how much we may object to the errors or misdeeds of another, we have to remember that all beings without exception have countless times been our parents because we have all been born countless times throughout beginningless time. If we can take that attitude of empathetic bodhichitta and abstain from the demonization of others, then even when adversity arises, we will not lose our accumulation of merit and our accumulation of wisdom in an outburst of anger. We will know how to tame our minds even in the midst of difficulties, controversy, and adversity. We will learn how to recognize our own kleshas and tame them. We will continue to study and practice. And especially, we will not fall into the error of rejection of dharma and we will not harm others.

It is said that there is nothing good about wrongdoing but in fact, there is one good thing about wrongdoing—it can be purified. If a person who committed wrongdoing admits to it wholeheartedly, then regardless of what the wrongdoing consisted of, it will be purified.

Dharma, because it is inanimate, is said to be flawless and immaculate. But in a sense we could say that dharma has one flaw. There is one problem with the dharma. Precisely because it is inanimate, dharma will not tell you when you are distorting it. We have a saying about this, “Quotations of the Buddha’s words are like animal skins, they can be stretched quite a bit.” And this is why the Buddha warned us by saying, “Test those words attributed to me down to a single stanza with the skepticism that you would treat something being sold to you as the purest gold. Do not accept it until you have proven its purity.” This means that we each need to employ our own insight and our own common sense in assessing any teaching—written or oral—to see it is really true to the dharma. We have to ask if it is really helpful to beings or not. And if we can use our intelligence in that way, then we will be certain that our practice will be unmistaken and of benefit to ourselves and others.

Those who teach dharma may possess both virtues and flaws. In all cases, we need to be able to tell the difference, so that we can emulate our teacher’s virtues and avoid our teacher’s flaws. Only in that way will we be able actually grow spiritually.

His Holiness the Sixteenth Gyalwang Karmapa and His Holiness the Seventeenth Gyalwang Karmapa, and in fact any buddha or bodhisattva, has only one aim, and that is to help beings. As it is said, “the only thing pleasing to buddhas is the happiness of beings.” Any buddha, any bodhisattva, any emanation of any buddha or bodhisattva, will have that aim alone. All they want to do is free beings from suffering and bring beings to a state of happiness. If we have that understanding and if based on that understanding we, as practitioners and in working with our teachers, can act according to dharma, things will go very well. So it is my hope that all of us will do this. I pray that all of us do this and I ask that all of you do this.

Still, no matter how hard we try, there will be problems. Something is always going to come up. Sometimes things come up within our minds. Sometimes things come up externally. When problems arise, we need to deal with them in such a way that we can actually bring them to the path, which means to use the unavoidable situation of the problem to go further on the path rather than abandon it or backtrack.

We are Buddhists and especially we are practitioners of the mahayana. That means that principally what we are trying to do is train our minds in both aspiration and implementation bodhichitta. We are trying to practice the six paramitas (or six perfections). But the six perfections can only be practiced when there are problems of one kind or another. We can use the third perfection—patience—as an example. The quality of patience is the ability not to become angry and not to act out of anger when something or someone is making us angry. When we are subject to no stimulus that evokes anger, when nobody is doing anything that bothers us, when nothing is going wrong; there is simply no way for us to practice patience. We cannot practice patience unless there is a situation that tests our patience. The situation may be internal—it may be something that has arisen within our mind that is tormenting us. It may be a disagreement within our family, within a mundane group or association, within a sangha. But whatever it is, by being patient with it we have a fantastic opportunity to increase our own virtue and obviously to facilitate others’ increase of it.

While we can never expect others not to get angry at us, while we can never expect there to be an absence of stimuli evoking anger, we have to remember that a fight takes two. No cymbal can make sound unless it is collided with another cymbal. No drum will make a sound unless a drumstick strikes it. So there will always be disagreements among us and we will always experience disappointments with the behavior of others. But if we can commit ourselves to open-minded patience, we will not lose our way along the path. And we will be able to cooperate with others and be of real use to them. Even in order to succeed in this world in the most mundane way, we depend upon doing as much good as we can, and avoiding as much wrongdoing as we can.

To use myself as an example, at the command of His Holiness the Sixteenth Gyalwang Karmapa, I served the monastery of Karma Triyana Dharmachakra for 31 years. During that time, when Khenpo Karthar Rinpoche had founded the Karme Ling Retreat Center and was busy teaching and directing the retreat, for a period of almost 20 years I had the principal responsibility of teaching and supervising the ongoing functions of the centers. Therefore, I remain attached to the outcome in these centers and I pray that in your centers you work together in harmony; and that the centers grow, prosper, and flourish. Never think that I want these centers to go down, be ruined, or suffer in any way. Work together and remember that even though there will always be problems, there will always be miscommunications, ups and downs, disagreements of all kinds, that your centers were founded by the Sixteenth Gyalwang Karmapa and they will therefore, without doubt, be the primary venue for the activity in this country of the Seventeenth Gyalwang Karmapa. Furthermore, the teachings of the Karmapas will last for as long as the teachings of the thousand buddhas of this kalpa continue to exist. So for all these reasons, the survival of these centers is of far greater significance to me than how you view or treat me. I always pray for all of you and for the centers, and I will always keep you all in my mind.

In the practice of the mahayana, and especially in the practice of the vajrayana, the most important thing of all is bodhichitta. Remember that all beings have been your mother countless times, throughout beginningless samsara. All of these beings are suffering. All of these beings lack the freedom to avoid the suffering that they wish to avoid.

So with that motivation think, “I will practice Dharma in order to establish all beings in the state of buddhahood.” It is not sufficient merely to just generate bodhichitta as a motivation, however, we also have to consciously and assiduously train our minds in it. For not training our minds in bodhichitta, we will lack the awareness and the positive habit that will give us a remedy in times of trouble. One day we will surely become angry. One day we will surely experience some kind of mishap or adversity, and it is extremely unlikely that, if we have not prepared ourselves for this by training our minds in bodhichitta, we will have ready access to the remedy for adversity or our kleshas.

Whether we practice the Nyingma tradition or Kagyu tradition, whether we practice the teachings of the old translation or the new translations, whether we are engaged in a seven‑day practice intensive or in our concise daily practice at home, in all these situations, and in the context of any and all practice, we need bodhichitta as our motivation and we need dedication to the awakening of all beings as the culmination and completion of every session of practice.

Those who engage in the concise daily practice of many yidams know that each and every one of these practices begins with the vow of refuge and  the generation of bodhichitta. Each and every one of them concludes with the dedication of the virtue of the practice to the awakening of all beings. But why do we repeat these things so many times in a session of practice? It is because we need this. We need to constantly reinforce this motivation of bodhichitta in our minds. By training our minds in it through constant repetition and reinforcement, our minds will become trained in it. The generation of bodhichitta will become easier and easier. And through that training, bodhichitta will arise as a remedy both for adversity and for our kleshas.

It does not matter whether you are practicing in your own personal shrine room or in the great and elaborate shrine of a Dharma center. If in your practice you have a fantastic generation stage visualization, you sit immovably with perfect meditation posture of the seven dharmas of Vairochana, and you recite the liturgy with beautiful voice and impeccable melody, even if you do all of that, if then you get up off the cushion, leave the shrine room, and there is no trace whatsoever of Dharma in your behavior, if your words are coarse of most degraded individual, if your mind is utterly unruly, then there is simply no point. It is said, ”Those who become jaded with Dharma are impervious to it.” Once we become jaded with Dharma, then forget about helping anyone else. We ourselves are beyond help.

We have been born in the dregs of time, so we have to accept the fact that there is always going to be adversity. That is just the way it is. But among beings born at this time, we are extremely fortunate. We are like those with eyes among the blind, those with working legs among the lame.

We have the opportunity to encounter supremely great masters, such as His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Holiness the 16th and 17th Gyalwang Karmapas, His Holiness Minling Trichen, and His Holiness Sakya Trizin. We have the opportunity to readily and easily receive the most profound Dharma. We are really in a situation of someone who has found themselves on an island of jewels. It would be a tragic waste for someone to find themselves on an island of jewels and leave with empty hands. It would be even more tragic if we leave this life where we have this extremely rare opportunity with empty hands. If we become jaded with Dharma, we will be wasting our lives, and we will be wasting this rarest and most precious of opportunities.

The only solution to the very real danger of this is bodhichitta. And we need to constantly generate bodhichitta, reinforce it in post-meditation, and especially, cultivate it consciously during our meditation sessions whether we are practicing at home or at a center.

And when you recite the generation of bodhichitta, do no do it like a parrot chanting “om mani peme hung.” Think about what you are saying. If you do that, then you will generate the resolve to benefit beings exactly as all buddhas and bodhisattvas of the past have done and are doing until samsara is empty.

Generate bodhichitta not just with your mouth, but with your mouth and mind together. That will make your aspiration very powerful, and it will certainly become accomplished. On the other hand, aspirations made with the mouth alone—you may chant something but your mind is wandering—are not really aspirations at all. You simply cannot expect everything that comes out of our mouths to be accomplished. So in training our minds every day without fail in bodhichitta we must remember that we are constantly accompanied by our bodies, our speech, and our minds; whether we are at home or have gone out, we never leave these behind. They are always with us.

And anything we do—whether good or bad—is done by our bodies, speech, and our mind. We, therefore, have the responsibility to constantly consider: “What am I thinking? What am I saying? What am I doing?” When you examine your thoughts, words, and actions, if you find that they are in accord with Dharma, then take joy in that and make the aspiration that it always be so. But if you find that you have been unable to think, speak, and act appropriately, regret your inability and make the aspiration that neither you nor any other being ever experience this failing again. Doing this repeatedly by reinforcing bodhichitta in thoughts, words, and deeds, your bodhichitta will be strengthened progressively. As hard as it may seem to do this, remember that there is nothing that will not become easy if practiced enough.