Vajrayana

by Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo

According to the Hinayana school of Buddhism, we are trapped in this realm of endless birth, death, rebirth and re-death because we desire things and hold onto them so tightly. Even though this wheel of life brings us so much suffering again and again, we cling to it The Hinayana school places emphasis on eradicating even the finest roots of our desire. According to the Mahayana, it is because of our ignorance that we are trapped on this wheel. We accept as real that which is not real, and we think unreal that which is the only true reality. Everything we think reflects a misapprehension of how things really are. Therefore, our task is to develop what is called "transcendental wisdom," which will eradicate the very roots of our ignorance.

According to Vajrayana, we are trapped in this realm of endless birth and death because of our impure perceptions. We believe that what we see is solid, ordinary, and defiled. We see ourselves as impure beings. The antidote to this is to develop pure perception, or pure vision. If we understand this, the whole Vajrayana path makes sense. The way to go beyond samsara is to realise that it has always been nirvana. It is our basic ignorance which causes impure perceptions to manifest so that everything appears as ordinary, suffering and defiled. We have to "clean the lenses" in order to see that what looks so ordinary is actually a pure realm of utter transcendence. This is a basic fundamental of the Vajrayana view, and can be realised only by an awakened mind. One of the Mahayana sutras tells about a time when Ananda, the Buddha's attendant, asked the Buddha, "How is it that all these other Buddhas like Amitabha, Akshobhya, and Ratnasambhava have beautiful pure lands full of realised beings, whereas your mandala, your pure land, is full of defiled beings and foul places? How is it that you are a Buddha, yet your pure land is so impure?" The Buddha replied, "There is nothing wrong with my pure land. When I look around, I see that it is immaculate. The problem is with your impure perception, which sees it as defiled."

Once His Holiness the Sixteenth Karmapa, head of the Karma Kagyu tradition, was very ill in Delhi. At that time, I went to see His Holiness Sakya Trizin, who was also there. His Holiness Sakya Trizin is the head of the Sakya order, one of the four traditions of Tibetan Buddhism. I said to him, "It's awful that Karmapa is so sick!" He replied, "Karmapa isn't sick. Karmapa is beyond birth and death. It's just your impure perception which sees Karmapa as sick." And I said, "Well, yes, but Tai Situ Rinpoche, a very high-level bodhisattva who presumably has pure perception, is nonetheless worried and concerned because Karmapa is sick." His Holiness replied, "Situ Rinpoche is not worried or concerned. It's your impure perception which sees Situ Rinpoche as worried and concerned." You get the idea! We have to purify our perception. Then we will see that this has been nirvana all the time. It is only because of our perverted view that there was ever any problem. 

Vajrayana shares its philosophy with Mahayana. The Vajrayana is not a philosophy. It is a practice technique and a view, or vision. It takes its philosophical stance from the Mahayana. The Tibetans say it takes it from the Prasangika-Madhyamaka school. Actually it seems to be a combination of Yogachara and Madhyamaka viewpoints. In the Mahayana, the practice path is this: we are here, and we have the inherent potential for Buddhahood, called our Buddha-nature, which is like a seed. The path is the means to water and nurture that seed until it grows and grows and finally ripens into full Buddhahood. We ordinary, defiled sentient beings have the potential for enlightenment. We all have embryonic Buddha-nature and we cultivate it through aeons of time. It takes a long time to become a Buddha in the Mahayana school. We have to nurture this seed for endless ages until it grows and puts out leaves and branches and finally manifests as a full-grown Tree of Enlightenment. This could be considered as a wonderful vision, but it might also be considered totally discouraging. You might think, "Well if it takes aeons and aeons, what's the point?" In reaction to such concerns, the Vajrayana takes a very radical step: it turns the whole thing around.

The Sutrayana division of the Mahayana school is referred to as the "path of the cause." This is because we start with the cause, which is our embryonic Buddha-nature, and nurture it until we produce the fruit. The Vajrayana is called the path of the fruit. This is because it maintains that from beginningless time, we have already been Buddhas. Our problem is that we don't recognise this. Therefore, why not use our inherent Buddha-nature as the path itself? So we start from the fruit, and use that as the path. In other words, we start from the opposite direction. Therefore, Vajrayana places great emphasis on visualising ourselves as a Buddha or as a particular tantric deity which symbolises some aspect of a fully flowered Buddha-nature.

Most Buddhist meditation focuses on the breath, on the mind itself, or sometimes on very simple geometrical designs. Vajrayana meditation depends on a faculty called "creative imagination," or visualisation. This is what makes it different from other forms of Buddhist practice. Although nobody knows when the Vajrayana first entered the Buddhist stream, it was certainly in existence by the early centuries of the common era. It might have been there from the beginning. Tibetans believe that it was always there and was taught by the Buddha himself. In any event, by the fourth or fifth century it was extremely prolific, although still a very secret form of practice.

At that time there were huge monasteries in India which were also universities, including Nalanda, Vikramashila and Takshila. They contained thousands and thousands of monastic scholars who were studying all the schools of Buddhist philosophy. Within that complex, there were many masters who were also practising these Vajrayana teachings. But they did it quietly. It is said that although outwardly these masters looked like monks, inwardly they were yogis. They didn't talk about it, and it did not become widespread and open, with public initiations and so forth, until it became the state religion of Tibet. I don't think the Vajrayana was ever intended to be a state religion. It was intended to be quiet and secret, just between the master and a few disciples. Before you can practice the Vajrayana, you need to receive an initiation. If you look at the early records in India, they show that a disciple was usually initiated only after years and years of testing by the guru, and then it was a one-on-one, mind-to-mind transmission. Nowadays, His Holiness the Dalai Lama gives the Kalachakra initiation to a hundred thousand people at a time.

As I mentioned earlier, the practice of Vajrayana relies heavily on the use of creative imagination. I will give an example for those who have never done anything like this before. Suppose we take the example of Guru Padmsambhava, whom the Tibetans call Guru Rinpoche. Guru Padmasambhava is very appropriate to this topic, because he was the master who came from India and established tantric Buddhism in Tibet during the eighth century. He has become a focus for popular devotion. Suppose we were to do a practice centring on Padmasambhava. Whatever we do, it is extraordinarily important to proceed with the correct motivation, which is the wish to break through to the unconditioned reality and, having gained access to our innate wisdom and compassion, benefit others. No other motivation is valid. First, we would take refuge in the Buddha, his doctrine, and the community of realised practitioners. Next, we raise the aspiration to attain enlightenment for the benefit of others. At this point, we begin the meditation.

If we were doing the Padmasambhava meditation, we would visualise ourselves sitting. Then our body would dissolve into space. In the space, at the heart centre, a syllable would appear. In this case it would be a PAM, standing for Padma. This is called a seed syllable. That PAM would then emanate light in all directions, purifying the entire universe. Then the whole universe and everything in it would become a realm of absolute immaculate purity, and all the beings there would be purified of their defilements and become like gods and goddesses. Then the lights would come back into the PAM, and in an instant, one would appear as Padmasambhava. One must then see oneself as Padmasambhava, who embodies the wisdom and compassion of all the Buddhas.

When we are doing these meditations, it is very important for us to believe them. None of this is made up — everything is exact and precise. One of the problems Westerners face is that we are simply not accustomed to such detailed imagery. Many of us find it very difficult, at least in the beginning, although people who are visually oriented may find it easier. But even more important than the very detailed visualisation is the belief that this is real. It doesn't work if you don't believe in it. Normally when people do these meditation, they are really thinking, "Here am I, Pat, pretending to be Padmasambhava. The reality is that I'm Pat. The fantasy is that I am now supposed to be Padmasambhava." But the truth is that we are Padmasambhava, who represents our primordial wisdom and compassionate mind. We are Padmasambhava pretending to be Pat. You see, these forms, which might seem quite alien to you, are actually emanations of our wisdom mind. They are emanations of our inherent Buddha-nature, as they have appeared to realised masters throughout the ages. They arose in minds which had access to their wisdom nature. Therefore, they are an extremely skilful conduit back to very profound realms of our psyche which we cannot access by means of logical, linear thinking.

There are very subtle levels of our psychological makeup which we can access only through enlightened imagery. These meditations, if we really become one with them, open up profound levels of the mind very quickly. They have quite an extraordinary effect. The amount of effort we expend is tiny compared with the enormous benefits to be attained. People are often startled because there is a part of us which doesn't really believe it, which thinks that we are just playing games. To gain the benefits, we must become absorbed in the practice and cease this duality of "I" doing the practice. Just become the practice. As soon as we get rid of that subject-object dichotomy and become the meditation, the results come quickly. This is why Tibetan Buddhism has remained so popular, despite that fact that it initially seems so alien to many Westerners.

Now we are seeing ourselves as Padmasambhava, and we have the certainty of being Padmasambhava. At this point, if our original wisdom nature could take form, it would take form as Padmasambhava. This is the glow of our Buddha-nature. It is like a rainbow. This visualisation is not solid; Padmasambhava does not possess a liver, guts and a heart. He is made up of rainbow light. Every feature has a meaning. The two arms are wisdom and compassion. He is a conglomeration of the elements of the Buddhist path distilled into a single form. That is who we really are. This is the important thing to know. This is what I really am, not the transient identity I usually think of as "me." Then we sit and see ourselves as Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava), trying very hard to visualise as clearly as possible all the details, going through the visualisation part by part, getting a flash of the whole thing together. Padmasambhava is sitting there, radiating light. At the heart centre is a lotus, and upon that, a moon disc. On the moon disc is the syllable PAM and around that, the letters of the mantra, standing upright. Light radiates from Padmasambhava's mantra. These radiating lights go out and purify the entire cosmos. All the beings within it will naturally be purified because now we are Buddha.

This is what I was describing before as "taking the fruit as the path." Now we are Buddha, and the Buddha has the capacity to purify beings. In our minds we are doing this activity which a Buddha would do, that is, to radiate light in all directions, completely purifying everything and all beings everywhere within it. By "beings," we are not referring simply to human beings. "Beings" includes animals, insects, fish, spirits, those in the heavens and hells and everywhere. All beings throughout the incredibly vast universe are liberated. They become conscious of their wisdom and compassionate nature, and they turn into Padmasambhava. The whole world has become an immaculate pure land. Then the lights come back and again go out and make offerings to all the Buddhas and bodhisattvas in the universe and also to all the sentient beings who are now themselves Buddhas. The entire universe is now an immaculate pure land full of Buddhas. While we visualise this, we say the mantra. Then, at the end, this vast universe, now completely filled with Buddhas and bodhisattvas, melts into light. That light melts into us. We melt down into the centre. The lotus and the moon melt into the mantra. The mantra melts into the seed syllable PAM. The seed syllable melts upwards into the tiny circle called the nada which then also melts. We watch this very precisely as it melts, stage by stage, until there is nothing left. Then the mind remains in its natural, immaculate state. It rests in this state which is beyond thought and beyond concept for as long as possible. When thinking starts, we again instantly appear as Padmasambhava and dedicate the merit attained by doing this practice.

Subsequently, as we are going about our business during the day, we see ourselves as Padmasambhava. We see all beings we meet as emanations of Padmasambhava. Immediately upon meeting someone, we recognise their inherent Buddha-nature. All sounds we hear are the sounds of the mantra. Nice sounds, harsh sounds, all are just the mantra. All thoughts — good thoughts, bad thoughts, intelligent thoughts and stupid thoughts — are just the play of Guru Padmasambhava's wisdom mind. We try to maintain the awareness throughout the day that all the beings we encounter are just pretending to be ordinary, but are really Guru Rinpoche in disguise. All sounds that we hear are the wonderful echo of OM AH HUM VAJRA GURU PADMA SlDDHl HUM (Padmasambhava's mantra). All the thoughts we have are just the essential nature of the empty play of wisdom. Nothing to worry about. If we can maintain that throughout the day, we will learn what it is to develop pure perception.

This is the way the Vajrayana works. I have given a very simplified illustration, but it is basically the way it works. Sometimes when people come to the Vajrayana, they are intimidated by its seemingly endless complexity. There are so many deities, so many levels, so many different practices and approaches, where does one begin? It can become quite mind-boggling. But the essential focus of the practice is actually very simple. The problem is that, as with any other practice, we have to do it. It's not enough to just do it for ten minutes a day. We need to incorporate our practise into our daily life. We have to transform our minds. It's not about playing with nice ideas. It is about transforming the very core of our being. It doesn't work unless we really take the practice and eat it, digest it, and use it to nourish ourselves, not just nibble at it from time to time. Some people do these practices a little bit every day, and then they forget them. Then they wonder why nothing is happening. But the texts are very clear that this is not just something you do when you are sitting on your mat. You have to take the visualisation with you into your everyday life. This is what the early masters did. They transformed their vision into pure perception because they were using it all the time, in all their encounters.

There is another aspect of the Vajrayana which builds on this. It involves manipulating the inner energies. This is done once our visualisation has become stable and we have performed the requisite number of mantras. The mantra is considered to be the essence of the nature of the deity. Every Buddha and bodhisattva has his own special mantra which is the way to connect with and experience that deity. When we say the mantra with perfect concentration and visualisation, we actualise the qualities the deity represents. They are locked inside the mantra, which is like a code. We decode it and access that energy through our meditation and visualisation and by saying the mantra. If we say it with perfect concentration, really focusing on the visualisation and becoming one-pointed in the practice, the results come very quickly. If we harbour doubt in our minds, nothing will happen even after aeons of practice. The texts are very specific in pointing this out.

There is so much one can say, but I hesitate to say too much, because many of you may never have taken Vajrayana initiations. However, I will touch on something which often confuses people. Non-Vajrayana people are often puzzled when they enter a Vajrayana temple and find themselves surrounded by all the representations of these beings on the walls. They often ask, "What's this got to do with Buddhism?" Many of the images are naked. Many of them appear to be wrathful and look like demons. Some are even shown copulating. But this iconography is not as bizarre or as complex as it first appears. The images of the deities represent one or another of three basic levels of mood. The first mood is peaceful, represented by figures such as Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion; Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of Wisdom; and Tara, the Saviouress. They are shown as quiet, peaceful, and gently smiling. People don't usually have any problems with them, although they sometimes have problems with the fact that Tara is green or somebody else is blue. But basically there is no problem, because they look nice and friendly, as if they were on our side.

Then you get the second level, which is called ski ma tro in Tibetan. This means "neither peaceful nor angry." These are the heroic deities, known as the heruka and dakini forms. They represent the thrust of energy towards enlightenment. Their particular quality is passion. Now, in the earlier forms of Buddhism, desire was seen as the major obstacle to liberation. But in the Mahayana, and especially in the Vajrayana, it was understood that emotions such as passion and anger, when traced to their source, consist of vast amounts of energy. At some stage, this energy has become perverted into a negative force. But nevertheless, this energy is in itself very clear and wise. In other words, the flip side of what looks to us like negative energy is an innate wisdom. This was a tremendous volte-face in the attitude towards negative emotions. Instead of having to uproot emotions such as anger, pride, jealousy, and passion, we could take that energy and use it as the fuel for attaining enlightenment. These emotions were no longer enemies to be vanquished. They had become our main helpers on the path. This is an underlying motif throughout Vajrayana. When we understand this, we will understand the iconography of Vajrayana.

The Tibetan texts tell us that the greater the negative emotion, the greater the wisdom. The corollary to this is that without negative emotions, there is no wisdom. Does this mean that we are encouraged to run rampant, giving full rein to our greed, passion, hatred and desire in the name of spiritual practice? Some people think it does, but this is a misconception. These negative qualities, if left in their uncontrolled and unmitigated state, are indeed the cause of samsara. But if we control and transform them, we can use them as the fuel to propel us beyond samsara. The example that always comes to my mind is that of a rocket. You need enormous amounts of fuel to launch the rocket beyond the earth's gravitational pull, but once it's out in space, you no longer need much power. It becomes virtually self-propelling. So also with the spiritual path. The gravitational pull of our ordinary nature, of our ordinary, ignorant, ego-based mind is extremely strong. It is incredibly difficult to make that first thrust into the unconditioned because our conditioned mind is so powerful. Even if we are doing ordinary calming and insight meditations, it is difficult to make that thrust through. We need everything we can possibly muster for the initial push.

Vajrayana takes everything we have, even the garbage, and uses the whole lot as fuel to power the breakthrough to the unconditioned nature of the mind. That's why it can seem so threatening, and that's why it can be very dangerous and why we need the guidance of a teacher. The need for a perfect teacher is continually emphasised in the Vajrayana texts. Otherwise, it can be a very dangerous path. It is said that we won't get into much trouble driving an ox-cart along the road, but when we get behind the wheel of a sports car, we have to be very careful. You really need a good teacher before you take the wheel. This is because the Vajrayana uses the energies, especially the sexual energy, which in earlier Buddhism was sublimated or transformed in much more genteel ways. In the Vajrayana, that energy is transformed into a means to open up all the inner wisdom centres.

It is a misconception to imagine that Vajrayana gives you a license for uninhibited sexuality, to be as angry as you want, to get drunk, or to abuse the senses in any way whatsoever. On the contrary, it is the most disciplined and the most controlled practice there is. There are many, many Vajrayana vows which deal with the mind. It is not at all a path of license. But it is a path which takes everything we have. It requires great dedication and very clear guidance.

The diird level of deity, which comes after the heroic level, is the tro wa, which means fierce. You can tell the difference between the heroic and tlie fierce representations by looking at the flames around them. The peaceful forms have auras surrounding them. In the heroic forms, they have a very neat frame of flames. In the fierce form, they are surrounded by wild flames. The heroic deities are based on lust. The fierce deities are based on anger. They deal with all these emotions we have inside us, from mild irritation to total fury. Although they look very angry, at their heart there is total love, wisdom, and compassion. They are not really angry at all. They just manifest in that form. It is the transformed anger which has such tremendous energy. I don't know any lamas who are angry, but many of them manifest very wrathful deities in their meditation. The deities in union with their consorts represent a number of things. We are within these opposites, but these opposites are always joined in a higher unity. They represent the unity of wisdom and compassion, of bliss and emptiness, and so on. But the idea is always that we are taking two qualities of mind which become united into one. This is shown in a very graphic way through the unity of the male and female. It doesn't mean they have wild orgies in tantric monasteries.

Tibetan Buddhism places a lot of emphasis on the guru. The guru is a very difficult subject to deal with because, as I said earlier on, in the early days in both India and Tibet, the relationship between the guru and the disciple was a very personal one. The teacher had just a small circle of intimate disciples. He knew them all very well, and they knew him. There was mutual trust. The practices were very individual. When I was with my teacher in India, apart from his monastery and the Tibetan laypeople, he had a very small number of Western disciples. Usually, when Westerners came to him, he would send them away to other lamas. But occasionally he would select a few whom he would allow to stay. And although we all started doing the same things, within a very short time we were doing widely divergent practices. I never received teachings together with anyone else. There was also an American nun, a Dutch nun, and a Swiss nun, who came some years after I had become a nun. We were Dharma sisters. Sometimes one of us would ask for an initiation, and my Lama would say, "Let's wait until the three or four of you are together, and I will give it to all of you." So we would get the initiation and the oral transmission together, but we didn't get the teachings together.

For instance, Khamtrul Rinpoche would ask me to do a particular practice, and I would think, "Fantastic, that is just the practice I would want to do." And I would tell my Dharma sisters, and they would say, "Oh, I hope he doesn't tell us to do that." And I would say, "If that's your reaction, he wouldn't." And he didn't. I knew that my Lama knew me better than I knew myself. He would tell me to do things which had never occurred to me, but which were so completely right. That kind of confidence is very important, and you get it when you know you have a teacher who completely understands you. How could you not have trust and confidence in someone like that?

A problem has arisen now because Vajrayana has become so popular in the West and in the East, and many lamas are constantly jet-setting around the world. Say they come here. They are here for a few days, maybe they give an initiation and some teachings, and then they are off. Maybe they won't come again for another five years. First of all, how are you going to make contact with that teacher, and secondly, if you do make contact, how are you going to meet him again? And how are they going to remember who you are? It's a big problem. In the Vajrayana texts, it says that you must examine your teacher, or rather your potential teacher, for up to twelve years before accepting him.

A genuine guru is not just for this lifetime. He is for all our lifetimes. We must trust that he can take us to enlightenment, because he himself has that level of realisation and can bestow it on us. Also, the genuine guru is the one who shows you the original and inherent wisdom, awareness, and clarity of your mind. This is the unconditioned state, beyond thought, beyond concepts. The guru who shows you this mind so that you see it for an instant is the true guru. It's difficult to make that connection, but it's not impossible. In the meantime, however, we can manage quite well for quite a long time without having such an intense relationship. We can manage by receiving occasional teachings and instructions from the hands of visiting lamas who are qualified and who inspire confidence. It is not necessary for them to be our lama for our lifetime. We have devotion towards them and that will suffice in the meantime. It is necessary to have devotion towards a lama because when we do Vajrayana practise, there is always a lama at the centre. We can't pretend to have devotion. Either we have devotion or we don't.

Personally, I don't think Vajrayana is for everybody. I also think that if you are going to follow the Vajrayana path, unless you are prepared to give up everything and go off to do extensive retreats, it is important to keep the practice simple. Several lamas have remarked to me how difficult it is for them. As lineage holders, they have to study many different practices, but they never really get the time to observe and digest any one practice fully. They all agree that the real way to success is to concentrate on and keep at one simple practice which is meaningful to you.

One of the advantages of Tibetan Buddhism is that it's like a big spiritual supermarket. If we go into Zen meditation, we are told, "This is the way we meditate." If you don't go along with that, you have to go somewhere else. If you go to a vipashyana centre, you will be told, "This is how we do vipashyana meditation." If you don't like it, it's your bad luck. But in Vajrayana, there are so many practices. There is vipashyana, there is Zen-like meditation, there is study, there is the whole panoply of technicolour Vajrayana visualisations with Buddhas and bodhisattvas in every possible colour combination. There is something for everybody — peaceful, angry, sort of peaceful, and sort of angry. Male, female, green, red, blue, white, lots of arms and legs, two arms and legs, one head, standing up, sitting down, lying down; any way you want. There is lots of variety and everybody can find something to practice. When you find something you like and really identify with, then you can stay with that.

Every lama who comes to town will tell you that his particular practice is the most special, the most secret, ultimate, highest, unrevealed treasury that's ever been heard of. And you'll think, "Oh, I've got to have that." Then next week somebody else will come along with another one, and you'll finish up completely confused, completely frustrated, and worst of all, completely unrealised! The important thing is not to be too ambitious. We must go back to the foundations. First of all, the motivation. Why are we doing this anyway, what is it all for? Cultivate a compassionate heart, bodhichitta, the aspiration for enlightenment for the sake of other beings. Really get your ethical life together. Deal with non-harming, not lying, refraining from sexual misconduct. We must be realistic. If we are serious about following a spiritual path, we have to get our life together on a very fundamental basis. We must be responsible for our actions and understand what is virtuous and what is non-virtuous.

First, we have to get our fundamental Dharma life together. Then we should do a practice which is simple, accessible to us, and which we can incorporate into our daily life. Then it can work, and it can be very fulfilling. Then we can really feel things transforming. But we must avoid the pitfall of becoming too ambitious. I know people who go all around the world, taking very high initiations, then end up with all these commitments. When you take higher initiations, you often have commitments. This means that you have to do this practice every day. It might take one or two hours. If you have many such practice commitments, you end up with a meditation program of maybe three or four hours. On top of that you have your work, your family, your social life, and this terror that if you don't honour your practice commitments you'll go to hell. What is intended to be a transformation of your life into real meaningfulness and joy then becomes just a heavy burden. I know one lama who told me he had a daily commitment of three hours. If he got up early enough and did it first thing in the morning, he felt great relief. If he didn't, then for the rest of the day he felt he had this heavy burden on him because he knew that at night, when he was exhausted, he would have to do these three hours of practice. Now that is not very helpful, especially for laypeople. My Lama always said to me, "Don't undertake big commitments. Keep your practice very small and simple, but do it." This is very good advice. I have always been very clear with lamas when it comes to initiations. Sorry, I am not keeping this commitment. I say this before taking the initiation, then they can decide whether or not it's okay for me to take it. Usually, they say it's okay.

It is easy to get sucked into undertaking all these commitments. It's another kind of Dharma greed. You don't want to miss anything. The point is that in Vajrayana it is important to know your teacher and your path. We should keep it as simple as possible, but do it. It should be enough to challenge us, but not so much that it overwhelms us. We must be able to continue it and integrate it more and more into our lives, our relationships, and our work, until there is no separation between practice time and everyday life.