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In-depth Stories
Geshe Thupten Jinpa, Portland, Oregon, US, May 2015. Photo by Chris Majors.
In May 2015, Geshe Thupten Jinpa, His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s principal English-language interpreter, came to Maitripa College in the United States to talk about his newest book A Fearless Heart: How the Courage to Be Compassionate Can Transform Our Lives. The book describes why compassion is important for the human species; the structure of Compassion Cultivation Training, a secular, science-based compassion program Jinpa helped develop at Stanford University; and methods for how we can act on an increased sense of compassion in the real world. Jinpa took time to talk with Mandala editor Laura Miller about the book and the development of Tibetan Buddhist practice in the West.
Laura Miller: Congratulations on your book coming out. Would you give us a synopsis?
This is, I suppose, a self-interest argument for the value of compassion. I show that numerous studies demonstrate how compassion and happiness are closely related. In fact, I refer to compassion as the best kept secret of happiness. This begs the question: if it is natural and if it is so good for us, why don’t we do it more? I bring in and discuss what hinders us from expressing our more compassionate parts – fear and pride, particularly the fear and anxiety that we bring into our relationships with others.
The second part, which is actually quite large, presents the key steps in Compassion Cultivation Training (CCT), a particular program that I helped develop at Stanford University when I was a visiting scholar, which has now been delivered and offered to so many people. We have trained and certified over 100 instructors formally. It has now been used as an intervention program to help treat veterans suffering from PTSD, and there is a private healthcare group in San Diego with 20,000 employees, which has about eight people who have been trained in CCT who are now offering this as part of human resources.
I present the key steps of these CCT practices, but also place each of them within a larger psychological context, which combines both classical Buddhist psychology as well as contemporary neuroscience and contemporary psychology. For example, for the intention setting practice, that chapter has a whole discussion of how we understand intention. What is the relationship between intention and motivation? What is the latest scientific theory on motivation and how does that relate to our perception of the world?
The final part of the book is about how all of this translates into our individual, everyday life. What does it mean to live a compassionate life on a day-to-day basis? I make the point that through cultivation we can transform compassion from a natural response triggered by a situation in front of us, to a more proactive standpoint from which we can relate to the world, a mental perspective. And then ultimately, one of the highest developments is when compassion becomes so natural that it moves from mental perspective and becomes a way of being. I actually have a short section in the book presenting the six perfections – generosity, ethics, patience, joyous perseverance, concentration and wisdom. This is, I say, the way in which the Buddhist tradition has envisioned what it means to live compassionately and behave compassionately on a day-to-day basis. Although this comes from the religious context of traditional Buddhism, the basic principles behind the six perfections have nothing religious about them.
In the final chapter, I envision how compassion will unfold in the larger world.
What has inspired you to write this book?
I have had the privilege to serve His Holiness for so long and I know that one of his main focuses is to promote an appreciation of basic human values. He calls it “secular ethics.” His Holiness is deeply interested in promoting this way of understanding and exploring human experience, and appreciating the key defining characteristics of what makes us human beings. These are qualities of compassion, empathy, forgiveness, a sense of connection, appreciation of others and so on, which are fundamental values. One of the things that His Holiness does is to convey this without any connection to Buddhism or religion. And I have been very impressed and inspired by that line of thinking and work. It has made a tremendous difference in the larger world.
I think where I see my own personal role in this area is to, in one way or another, serve as a kind of cultural interpreter between traditional Tibetan classical culture and the modern West. In my work for His Holiness as an interpreter and also in my writings and translations, I see we are now living in a very exciting world where – thanks to globalization and coming into contact with so many different cultures – we have access to knowledge and insights that were traditionally beyond what was available before. In this kind of situation I believe that when we bring the best of Buddhist traditional knowledge together with the best of the contemporary scientific approach, there can be important mutual contributions.
My own work, particularly for the Library of Tibetan Classics, was more traditional translation work. And that I think is a very important step in the transmission of knowledge and insights from one tradition to another. Most of the major epochs in cultural transformation have come from exposure to a different culture and translation work. In the case of Tibet, translation of classical Indian Buddhist texts completely reshaped the Tibetan tradition. I believe that translating many of the key classical Buddhist texts, especially Tibetan and Indian, will really shape modern sensibilities and modern value systems, including science.
I think in order for these ideas to impact contemporary culture in an effective way, there also needs to be a second-level interpretation. The second-level interpretation draws from the actual translated texts, but they are brought into the idiom and conceptual framework and the language of the host culture. When I translate texts, I am very faithful to the original because I am reproducing what existed in the original. But when I do the second-order interpretation, then my loyalty is really to the host culture, which is the English-speaking world. And in a way, this particular book, if you can call it “interpretation,” would be at this second level.
In the introduction to the book you include a quotation from His Holiness from a Mind and Life Institute meeting in India where His Holiness is urging scientists to look into the positive qualities of the human mind, like compassion, that can be cultivated through contemplative practice with the idea that with scientific understanding, some of these practices can be offered to the world as techniques to increase emotional well-being, mental well-being. So what strikes me about this quote is how insightful and far-sighted this encouragement from His Holiness was. It seems to be that His Holiness has really been a catalyzing force for this research and findings that are clearing the way for the development and spreading of secular compassion. Can you share some of your thoughts of His Holiness’ role in this and how it has influenced your work?
His Holiness said, after the establishment of the Mind and Life Institute in 1985 and the first conference in ’87, that it became very clear to him that something very important could come out of the meeting of these two investigative traditions – Buddhism and modern science. Both of them are interested in understanding the human condition. In the West, scientists focus more on the outside; in the East, the classical contemplative traditions have focused more on the inside. That is a crude way of putting it, but it is a simple way of putting it. And it makes perfect logical sense to say that if we bring the best of these approaches, then we have a complete picture. That seems to be the basic impulse on the part of His Holiness and he has been right from the beginning an enthusiastic advocate for integrating knowledge.
As these conversations unfolded, it became evident that there are so many resources in the classical Buddhist tradition, particularly when it comes to mental processes. The interesting thing about the contrast between Buddhist psychology and contemporary Western psychology is that, until recently, contemporary Western psychology didn’t really have much to say when it comes to actual mind training. They are interested in understanding the phenomenon of mind, what are its mechanisms, why do certain people behave in a particular way. The focus has been very much on what goes wrong – on the pathology – because the model is medical. His Holiness realized that the focus in the West has been just on understanding the diseases and the pathology. The method that they are bringing is very rigorous because there is a systematic approach looking at the causal dynamics and the connections and their behavioral connections and so on. But, when it comes to recommendations on what can be done, there is a kind of a paucity in the Western approach.
Geshe Thupten Jinpa, Portland, Oregon, US, May 2015. Photo by Chris Majors.
In traditional Buddhist psychology, however, in addition to the tremendous depth of knowledge and understanding about how the mind works, there are also a lot of practices that are recommended that individuals can do, such as practices for how to strengthen one’s compassion, how to open one’s heart; how to develop greater resilience; how to develop greater patience; how to learn to observe one’s thoughts and emotions; how to regulate one’s emotions when one gets worked up; how to develop this meta-level awareness, where one can step back and disengage and observe what is going on in the theater of one’s mind. There are so many resources there and His Holiness basically felt that it makes no sense not to connect the two. Clearly, the Western scientific side could learn from the techniques that are there in the Buddhist traditions as well the insights that are there in Buddhist psychology and science of mind.
That there could be potential offerings to the world from this connection, His Holiness has been prophetic. Look at the story of the “mindfulness movement.” Of course, there is a lot of fad surrounding this, some of which is slightly excessive. But that doesn’t preclude the fact that the mindfulness movement has truly made tremendous contributions in the clinical domain. For example, the prevention of a relapse of depression when mindfulness is added to cognitive behavioral therapy – there is tremendous data that shows its efficacy. The mindfulness movement has in some sense proven His Holiness’ intuition that the meeting of the two traditions can really be very constructive. In fact, people like Professor Richard “Richie” Davidson, who is a pioneer in what is now called “contemplative science,” when you ask them about the evolution of the emergence of contemplative science, will explicitly attribute it to His Holiness and to his remarks at that particular Mind and Life conference, where he asked scientists to use their tools to look at the positive side of the human mind and see if some of the classical techniques actually work, and then adapt and offer them to the world.
It seems that with the popularity of mindfulness, it’s opened the gates for compassion training to come in. Would you talk about that?
I think one of the advantages of mindfulness language is that it is value neutral. That is why it is much more palatable and acceptable in a culturally secular environment, especially in the United State where there is a religious, almost dogmatic insistence on the separation of church and state. Mindfulness, because the language is about attention, present moment awareness, disengagement from habitual thought patterns, observing what goes on in your experience, and becoming more aware of your own body sensations and so on, is value neutral, and the concept is not that difficult to understand. It is difficult to experience it because we do not come into the world naturally gifted with mindfulness; it is something you need to cultivate. However, the concept itself is not that difficult, and that’s why there’s much less resistance in terms of receptivity to concepts about mindfulness.
People who’ve engaged with mindfulness have the ability to naturally experience what it feels like to be in a calmer state of mind, to be in a more focused state of mind. It allows for deeper qualities of mind; you can get a taste, and that is why it much easier to understand. Something like compassion is much more complicated because compassion also has a strong emotional component. Also, historically, the word “compassion” has belonged to the value side of language and has been seen as being part of the religious value system, which creates some cultural resistance on the part of some individuals. Now it’s changing because science is increasingly showing us that compassion is an inherent part of who we are as social creatures. It has nothing to do with religion; it’s part of who we are as human beings. I think the resistance to compassion that arises from thinking that it is a religious value only is disappearing. It’s His Holiness to whom we should really give the credit because His Holiness has been saying for over 40 years across the world that compassion is a natural human quality. Although historically it may have been the religious traditions that have promoted compassion, in itself, compassion is independent of religion. He has been a very strong voice advocating that and people are beginning to listen to this.
Can you describe the work that is being done at Stanford University on compassion training?
My work at Stanford began in the winter of 2007. In 2005 there was an important conference on depression, craving and suffering, where His Holiness interacted with a group researchers and scientists at Stanford University. It was truly inspiring for a lot of researchers and clinicians who were there who had never thought something like this could potentially be of interest to the researchers in the clinical community. This led to a conversation within the core group of scientists at Stanford School of Medicine that here was something that had real potential. A neuroscientist by the name of Jim Doty, who attended the conference and is now a faculty member of Stanford, had an endowed a chair in the neurosurgery department and set aside some funds to explore the possibility of setting up a kind of a permanent center there. He invited me to be part of the founding group and once I had a conversation with him, I was convinced that there was a real potential.
At that time, although there were individual researchers doing scientific studies of compassion, it wasn’t really accepted as part of the legitimate field of scientific inquiry. One of the early works that Jim and I did was to use Stanford’s name and power to convene people from many different universities and different fields – neuroeconomists, clinical scientists, basic researchers, psychologists, child developmental psychologists, including Christian theologians and Buddhist scholars – to our first conference that looked at how we are defining compassion. That was very, very successful. In fact, one senior Stanford psychology professor, who was actually a real sceptic, came up to me on the second day and said, “I have to admit I was wrong.” They were genuinely impressed. Then we did another conference focusing on the measures of compassion. We had another one that explored the language of mental life. These were all attempts to bring people together from so many different backgrounds. People like Barbara Fredrickson, who studies loving-kindness’ effect on the vagus nerve; Kristin Neff, whose work has primarily been on self-compassion; and Paul Gilbert, who is a pioneer in developing compassion-based therapy dealing with people who have pathologically high shame, were there and so on and so forth. We had Richie Davidson, who is a pioneer in this whole area. At the last conference I attended, at Telluride and organized by Stanford, I was one of the main speakers. I was so happy because out of 50 to 60 speakers, about 80 percent of them were completely unknown to me, which means the field is opening up. Instead of feeling depressed that I didn’t know the majority of speakers, I took it as a cause for celebration because this means that now compassion is becoming mainstream.
While I was a resident visiting scholar at Stanford, I thought that there was a fantastic opportunity for me to develop a secular compassion training program, taking inspiration from MBSR (mindfulness-based stress reduction). I developed an eight-week compassion training program. Although the initial program was developed by myself and was tested out on Stanford undergraduates, it soon became clear that the program could benefit a lot from adding on other approaches coming from contemporary Western therapeutic traditions like Steven Hayes’ acceptance and commitment therapy and Marshall Rosenberg’s nonviolent communication, which has some very powerful tools, like how to distinguish between the language of observation that talks about the pure facts, and the language of judgement, where we bring in our interpretation of the situation. I think this is a powerful way of becoming more aware of how much judgement we bring into describing a situation because you do it by learning the language, which is in some ways more practical and easier than trying to imagine what to do, which is the meditation-style approach. I also spent several long weekends together with a team of local experts – Kelly McGonigal; Erica Rosenburg, an emotions researcher and student of Paul Eckman; and Margaret Cullen, who is MBSR trained and a family therapist – coming up with exercises. In the end, the final instructors’ manual that we came up with, which is the actual protocol, has a very strong interactive component. I really feel happy that I had this opportunity and space to do this.
And who is the training aimed for? Is it for anyone?
When I was developing this program I was very clear that we shouldn’t keep in mind any specific target constituencies. As much as possible, it should be a generic program that could be offered to adults. My understanding is that later on we could use this as a basis to develop special adaptations for specific needs, whether for the pain management, stress relief, or whatever. I really wanted to have a very generic program that could benefit ordinary people.
In chapter 1 of your book you include a short quote from Fred Rogers: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” This quote resonated for me in the days and weeks after the earthquake in Nepal. And I personally feel like it’s this ability to look for the people and to actually rejoice in the compassion that is arising that has helped me not despair for what is a sad, sad situation in Nepal. So could you share a little bit more on that and how that works?
I think that often when we are confronted with tragedy and situations where we see other fellow human beings doing horrible things to others, or when it’s a natural disaster, it is very natural for us to get fixated on what is wrong. Biologically, we are programmed to detect threat and danger, and fear is such a dominant emotion because fear is a signal when something is a threat and you need to do something about it. Because of this, we get so fixated on the negative side of things.
On the other hand, if we’re able to step back a little bit and also look at the positive side, every tragedy has some kind of silver lining. For example, you cite the current tragedy in Nepal with the earthquake. If we just get fixated on the tragedy and the problem, and as we are not physically there, we feel powerless and also we feel depressed. Yes, the perception of the suffering is very important because that is what is going to pull our heartstrings, which is what is going to motivate us and move us. But at the same time, you are able to also notice good things, because in these kind of situations people help out and it brings out their best. Sometimes there are people who take advantage and loot – but this is what makes human society very interesting. For most people, tragedy brings out their best. What happened in New York on 9/11 is a typical example of how human beings have this ability to rise to the occasion. Sometimes we don’t notice this, but I think being able to notice this is very good for us because we don’t want to lose hope; when we give up, then that’s the end of story. If we are able to notice the good side, then it really energizes us and motivates us, and that is why I love that quote. I’d heard about this before but I never really gave it much thought. But during the Boston Marathon bombing, some of the newscasters talked about this and I thought “Yes!” I remembered it, and it is a powerful advice.
Can you talk a bit more on this?
There are numerous practices that I present in the book. One of the things that people who have been completely unexposed to the Dharma, like a VA group in Palo Alto that received an expedited six-week training course, find powerful is the simple exercise of equanimity, recognizing that “Just like me, this person wants to be happy, this person do not want suffering” and learning to use it almost like a mantra. It’s a very simple concept, but for a lot of people who struggle with outrage and short temper when they see someone being unfair, being able to just recall this phrase has been a powerful antidote restraining them.
One of the other things I suggest in the book is intention setting. Those who are brought up in the Buddhist world and those who have been exposed to Buddhism know that intention setting is such an important part of everything that we do. It’s like setting the tone. And whatever tone you set colors what unfolds afterwards. But many people who are not exposed to this kind of idea don’t think about it. For example, if you are running a meeting, if you set a clear intention right at the beginning (you don’t even have to share it with your colleagues, you can do it mentally; it takes only a minute or half a minute) and said, “OK, I’m going to bring my best to this meeting; I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt to everybody and I will recognize that everybody who is making suggestions is going to be making them from the best part of their intention; I will acknowledge and honor them and I will do what is the most wise and compassionate thing to do here,” just setting that intention completely changes the way you would respond and react to other people’s opinions. You wouldn’t take them as a threat or challenge to your views. Those kind of things I think are simple practices, but they have huge, huge implications.
Geshe Thupten Jinpa at Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, US, May 2015. Photo by Chris Majors.
This next question is more relevant to FPMT centers. What is the role of the Western Dharma center in the development of secular compassion? Where do they fit in?
One of the things that His Holiness has expressed in his aspirations for Maitripa College is that in addition to teaching Buddhist studies, the college could teach something that is more universal and that people can utilize regardless of whatever affiliations they may have. I think FPMT is the largest Gelug association in the West and is the fruit of the beautiful vision of Lama Yeshe and Lama Zopa Rinpoche. You have a tremendous network of sangha members, who have emotional connections with centers all over the world. I think its capacity for outreach is enormous; its presence is everywhere. Also, because of its longevity – FPMT has been in existence for now several decades – there is a depth of resources in terms of experienced people within the community. I would hope that some of the senior members of FPMT would take up this second-level translation that I was talking about earlier, catering to the needs of people who identify with Buddhism and need standard Dharma teachings, but at the same time have the ability and facility to offer this larger, more secular Dharma to people who are simply interested in finding more peace in their life and who are not particularly interested in having any religious affiliation; to people who are looking for some ability to bring more peace into their life, focus more, relate to their family members and the world in a more compassionate way, have a more enriching life, and make their life meaningful and serve society in a meaningful way. That is a very deeply spiritual and legitimate aspiration.
I would hope that the FPMT would think about that because the people who are steeped in the traditional practice are in some ways the best teachers to bring general-level Dharma into more secular contexts with integrity and depth behind it. The only thing that you would need is a little bit of training in the language, because it is a different way of presenting the Dharma. But that is not a very demanding challenge. There are many people teaching mindfulness and so on, but the depth of their personal experience and realization is very shallow, whereas people coming from the FPMT with many, many years of experience and practice, have much greater depth. It’s simply a matter of learning how to present it.
The majority of FPMT members are Western Dharma practitioners, so you don’t have the problem of language. Tibetan teachers are much more used to doing traditional teachings and on top of that they have the problem of language. Their lack of proficiency in English precludes them from having a deeper appreciation of the cultural needs and the cultural sensibilities and nuances of the particular host culture – non-Tibetan FPMT members don’t have that problem.
There are a couple of FPMT centers right now that are beginning to develop projects in this field that we’re talking about. One is Maitripa College, with their Mindfulness and Compassion Initiative. And another is at Instituto Lama Tzong Khapa in Italy, which is developing some sort of science academy. Very early days, you know, but, I was wondering given your experience working at Stanford and with the Mind and Life Institute, what advice you can offer in terms of developing a project and taking it forward.
I think perhaps the most important thing is the sincerity of the motivation because when you have a sincere motivation, you are able to bring a clarity of vision. We are all imperfect human beings, so nobody can come up with a full vision of how things are going to unfold. But where we can make a difference is to ensure the purity of our intention, and also as much as possible, develop a clarity of a vision of what exactly we are trying to do. When these two things are clear, then it becomes a lot easier to actually initiate something. Whoever is in the leadership position needs to have a passionate belief in whatever project they are leading because passion is infectious and can inspire people working on the project as well as funders. It also attracts other people into the movement. If you look at many of the movements, most of them have been successful because there are one or two people who were completely passionate about it – they believed in it – and because of their passion, they are resilient, they don’t get bogged down just because there are obstacles along the way.
A kind of different question, I’m very curious about what your thoughts are regarding the possibility or role of Western high level meditators with realizations – kind of Western yogis – is this something we should be aiming for, is it possible and where might they fit into the development of Dharma in the West?
Yes, that is a very interesting question. There are now, because it has been several decades, high-level Western practitioners who have had high-level realizations. I personally know a few, so there is nothing ethnically obstructing the attainment of these realizations; it really doesn’t matter what ethnicity you come from. The question is how is it that the presence of these yogis hasn’t really translated into the ability for these yogis to inspire people, be in leadership positions, and be great Dharma teachers. That, I think, is an interesting question. I think part of that has to do with the fact that the language of Dharma in English, and for that matter, in French and other languages, isn’t fully settled yet. It is an ongoing process.
Also, I think in the West (although FPMT is an exception), there hasn’t been enough institutional development to really allow the space for Western Dharma teachers to emerge and assume the authority that they deserve. I think these will come. I think it’s probably just a matter of time.
What is very important is that when you have indigenous Western teachers come up, that they be genuine. Tibetans have had the Dharma for such a long time and Tibetan relationships between the guru and students are organic – gurus tend to emerge on the basis of their reputation as teachers and thus there are checks and balances. For example, gurus have attendants who really keep them in check – they are a bit like spouses, keeping you in check. These attendants are very close household members who act as a kind of check on the lama’s behavior. There is very little room for a teacher to go on an ego trip.
In the West, the culture is very individualistic and it is a culture of celebrity – people love fame, people love exposure. There is a danger of someone being put on a pedestal and not having the strength to be able to remind themselves, “Yes, all of this is fine, but in the end, I am who I am.” That kind of groundedness, down-to-earthness, is a quality that needs to be cultivated because in the Western context, generally there isn’t this attendant-lama relationship and things may get out of balance. Also, the culture doesn’t facilitate the development of grounded charismatic teachers. The only model we have are celebrities. Subconsciously, celebrity culture seeps in into peoples’ relationships and those dynamics make it all very complicated. I think these are things the Western Buddhist Dharma centers and cultures will have to gradually learn. I think it is a learning process.
Is there anything that you would like to add or would like to say in to particular to the FPMT audience or anything out that you think is really important?
I think the sense of belonging that the FPMT community has is important. That self-conscious identification with the community is, I think, very important. That will increasingly – even from our own personal selfish point of view – guard students against loneliness and feeling left out and all the rest. In the West, I think we underestimate the importance of community because people are brought up to have very autonomous identities that we should be relying upon ourselves and all the rest. A sense of community is very important. FPMT members are very fortunate because it is a very large community, it has a long history, and Lama Zopa keeps in close touch with all the centers and there is a personal connection with him. I think that should be recognized and valued because there is a Tibetan saying: “When you have a jewel at home, you fail to appreciate its value.”
Geshe Thupten Jinpa is a former monk and holds a PhD from the University of Cambridge. He has been the principal English translator for His Holiness the Dalai Lama for three decades. He is an adjunct professor of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy at McGill Univeristy and chairman of the Mind and Life Institute.
Temporary dairy shelter, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
The massive April 25, 2015, earthquake in Nepal brought devastation to the country’s people, economy and culture. Many in the international FPMT community responded to the crisis by offering prayers and making donations to FPMT’s Nepal Earthquake Support Fund. On the ground, the monks and nuns of Kopan Monastery formed the Kopan Helping Hands program and were immediately offering assistance to thousands of earthquake-affected people. You can read about their work and the work of the Namgyal Rinpoche Foundation in FPMT Charitable Projects blog posts.
In addition to helping people in need, FPMT students have been helping earthquake-affected animals, which are often overlooked in times of disaster. When the earthquake struck Nepal, Phil Hunt was already en route to Kathmandu. Hunt is an Australian FPMT student who along with Tania Duratovic coordinates the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, a project of Kopan Monastery. They also oversee Enlightenment for the Dear Animals, an FPMT project based in New South Wales, Australia, and Tree of Compassion, an Australian charity focused on helping animals, people and the environment.
Hunt arrived in Kathmandu on April 26 and was able to assess the situation at the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, which is located close to Kopan Monastery. The sanctuary itself had no physical damage and experienced only minor difficulties. Phil, with team members from Tree of Compassion, was able to go out and assist animals around the city and surrounding areas. In August 2015, Tania visited the sanctuary.
Goats at the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, Nepal, August 2015. Photo by Tania Duratovic.
These are some of Phil and Tania’s reflections on animal welfare after the earthquake and as Nepal continues its recovery:
When disasters strike, the first response is naturally to search for and rescue people. Animals are often forgotten in the chaos even though they are often injured and in desperate need of food, shelter and medical attention. Getting help for animals in a disaster is a challenge, but it can benefit the entire community as well as the animals themselves. Long after international rescue teams have gone, the assistance to animals needs to continue to ensure missed animals receive care and those under treatment return to health.
Fortunately, the resident “four-leggeds” at the Animal Liberation Sanctuary were only spooked by the earthquake. They ran immediately into their shelters when the earthquake struck and then ran back out again as the earth continued to shake, but were physically unharmed. Unfortunately, thousands of animals were not so lucky.
When any disaster strikes, the first thing most big non-governmental organizations involved in animal rescue do is an assessment of the situation. This often takes a week or more. In the case of Nepal, international NGOs for animals did not arrive until early May and most were gone a couple of weeks later. This left local groups to deal with the immediate situation and the longer-term follow-up.
Phil Hunt and Dr. Umesh Mandal with medicines, Nepal, May 2015
Phil managed to fly in to Kathmandu the day after the first earthquake struck and Tania, who has a long history of working in disasters rescuing animals and training others to do so (see “The ‘Roo from Black Saturday” and “The Hidden Toll of Australia’s 2011 Floods”), immediately began organizing medical supplies and funds for the animals in Australia.
The first few days following a disaster are crucial for animal survival. While many local people were naturally too afraid to move about and the rubble from damaged buildings made road access difficult, we took the opportunity to get out and assess what we could and liaise with other local animal welfare groups. We were well placed to treat animals because of the excellent connections that Animal Liberation Sanctuary veterinarian, Dr. Umesh Mandal, has with the Nepalese veterinary networks. Experience with farm animals, especially larger ones like cows and water buffaloes, was essential as many international teams were more accustomed to domestic pets, who fared better in the earthquake. In at least one district, many sacrificial goats being kept in houses and apartments in the lead up to a festival were killed or injured during the earthquake when the structures they were in collapsed.
The Need for Veterinary Aid
Our main priority was to treat animals in need as soon as possible. Initial searches were undertaken on motorbike as it was simpler to get around. As roads were cleared, we were able to organize larger vehicles.
Many animals in the earthquake and aftershocks suffered physical trauma – such as fractures and wounds – as well as psychological trauma. Complicated wounds needed medication and ongoing treatment. Fractures needed skilled treatment and regular follow-ups to ensure infections or other complications didn’t occur and, if they did, were addressed. Without this skilled intervention, animals die from injuries or are crippled and have subsequent lifelong pain.
A “downed” cow being examined by team members in Nuwakot, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
While there were many animals suffering from physical trauma as a result of shelters and buildings collapsing, many other animals we treated had complications that likely arose from stress and their poor condition before the earthquake. “Downed” cows and water buffaloes were an example of this. Also, a number of pregnant animals gave birth prematurely or collapsed and were too weak to give birth. Like the people themselves, most Nepalese animals are not particularly well nourished and most goats, cows and buffaloes are kept for milk and are underfed. Naturally, these animals did not have much strength to withstand the trauma and stress of the earthquake.
Calf in oil toxic shock, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
In desperation, locals tried to “fix” the animal themselves, often with disastrous results because of their ignorance of veterinary medicine. In a village east of Kathmandu and high up a steep valley slope, for example, we encountered one calf partly covered with used engine oil to treat a skin condition. The calf nearly died from toxic shock.
Fortunately, many animals were rescued – calves born, mothers saved – thanks to the combined efforts of the team.
The Importance of Follow-up
Veterinary care is still required in the days and weeks after the first treatment. Fractures need to be checked and splints and casts reapplied as needed; wounds cleaned and dressed; medication regimes assessed and adjusted; minerals and supplements revised and so on. In such a large disaster it is difficult to provide the full treatment required when so much immediate care is needed in widely dispersed and difficult to access places. Some big NGOs had people to follow up, but many left not long after the first treatment was given. Without proper follow-up, animals continue to suffer and some eventually die.
Our team continued with this follow-up work until early August, three months after the first earthquake. The local team showed great tenacity and commitment to helping animals, even though aftershocks made any travel dangerous. Once the monsoon started, areas that had seemed stable began to move and collapse as rain seeped into the newly formed cracks in the earth. This happened to the track to the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, for example, which was blocked due to the collapse of a wall immediately after the first earthquake and then cleared only to once again be under threat when part of its slope shifted.
Temporary shelter for a calf, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
Temporary Shelters
One of the first things villagers did after the earthquakes was to build temporary shelter for their animals. In one village, a buffalo was tethered in the rain and the family was distressed that they were not able to give the animal shelter. A young girl went out into the rain and hugged her, apologizing for taking her shelter. Throughout the disaster area, we witnessed reasonably solid temporary shelters going up for animals at a much faster rate than for people. Humanitarian aid meant for displaced people was often quickly repurposed. For example, tarpaulins could be used to repair damaged animal shelters.
How Small-scale Farming Contributed to Injury
It’s clear that some animals – birds, dogs, goats and male cows – fared better than other animals. People said that just before the earthquake struck, birds took wing; pigeons in the squares suddenly flew off. Street dogs were also said to have started moving before the earthquake was detected by people and because they are quick and agile, escaped falling material better than most. Goats are mostly herded outside of urban areas or are kept outside of buildings. Male cows, who are not owned by anyone, wander the streets and roads and were only at risk to nearby falling debris and collapsing buildings.
The main victims seemed to be female cows and water buffaloes, who are more often kept in a building or shelter of some kind. There was no escape for them. In and around Kathmandu there is a thriving small-scale dairy industry, and there has always been the village- and family-scale use of animals for dairy. At the family level, one or two females are kept in a building, sometimes directly below the living space of the people. They stay inside or can be tethered outside, but the majority of their time is within a building where they are easier to control, will not require fencing, will not eat valued plants, and will not find their calves and share their milk. It is far from the idyllic life we imagine when we think of “small-scale urban farming.”
Dr. Umesh looking at the remains of a building that crushed 2,700 chickens when it collapsed, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
As the agricultural sector in Nepal follows the West’s industrialization model, more and more farms are turning to intensive livestock production. In the drive to produce more milk and maximize profits, female cows and buffaloes are kept in larger herds and kept pregnant and lactating for as long as possible. While small in Western terms, these dairy farms can have six, ten or twenty animals confined in a building all day. Like their small-farm sisters, there is no escape when an earthquake strikes.
Goats too are increasingly being kept in larger herds and confined for longer periods within man-made structures and most injuries to goats during the April 2015 earthquake were due to their confinement. Intensive farming of chickens has also become more common. Our team came across one such farm where over two thousand hens died when the building collapsed on top of them.
Rebuilding
While the immediate treatment and main follow-up period for animals is over, the rebuilding of Nepal will take much longer. Rubbing salt into the wounds, so many Nepalese have had to destroy what was left of their homes by themselves – by hand – before they could start rebuilding. For most outside the cities, it is difficult to contemplate using better earthquake-resistant construction methods that they simply can’t afford.
Goats Ösel and Kalu, who are friends, at the Animal LIberation Sanctuary, August 2015. Photo by Tania Duratovic.
At the Animal Liberation Sanctuary
At the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, we took in two new rescued goats during the earthquakes. One was a young male, now named Ösel, who was rescued by Tenzin Ösel Hita and the members of his pilgrimage group on the day of the first earthquake. The other is Kalu, an old goat who was initially rescued from slaughter 10 years before. He lived on the roof of an apartment building that was badly damaged in the earthquake. Kalu and Ösel are now close friends and are fitting in well in their new, safe environment. We are very grateful that the sanctuary, only recently completed after so many years of planning and construction, made it through without any injury, loss of life, or structural damage.
Not for Everyone
The conditions for rescuing animals can be very trying and also dangerous. There are the normal problems of the elements – heat and dust or rain and mud – as well as bad roads and exhausting travel. In addition, after an earthquake there are ongoing tremors, landslides, fallen power lines and unstable buildings. And there are always unpredictable and scared animals to deal with! Long days stretch into the night. (This was especially true on trips outside of Kathmandu when it was not possible to stay the night.) Many veterinarians are used to skipping meals and this tendency is exacerbated in disaster situations, even on follow-up visits. Perhaps the most difficult aspect is the distress when you cannot help an animal as much as you would like. It’s heartbreaking when there is simply no remedy available to help. You cannot help the animal nor can you help the poor villager who is desperate for the animal to live. At those times, all you can do is pray and say mantras and focus on those that you can help.
A water buffalo with a broken femur, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
Something for Everyone
Disasters can happen anywhere at any time. It is important that you have a plan for what you will do for your animals should a disaster strike (see the “What to Do in a Disaster” section of “The Hidden Toll of Australia’s 2011 Floods”). Write to your local authorities and ask that they include animals – pets, farm and wildlife – in their disaster response plans. The next time you hear of a disaster, please remember the many animals that are also affected and include them in your prayers and dedications.
A calf and its mother, Nepal, May 2015. Photo by Phil Hunt.
Tania Duratovic and Phil Hunt are co-directors and co-founders of Enlightenment for the Dear Animals, an FPMT project that aims to help people benefit animals, and coordinators of the Animal Liberation Sanctuary, which is a project of Kopan Monastery in Nepal.
Learn more about Enlightenment for the Dear Animals and the Animal Liberation Sanctuary Project on their website. You can support the project by visiting their information page on fpmt.org.
You can read more updates from the Animal Liberation Sanctuary on FPMT.org.
Gethsemani Abbey, New Haven, Kentucky, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
In May 2015, Ven. Losang Drimay, teacher and resident at Land of Medicine Buddha in Soquel, California, was one of 12 Buddhists to meet with 17 Catholics at Gethsemani Encounter IV. The first Encounter took place nearly 20 years earlier at the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani, the home and retreat of the late Trappist monk, writer and mystic Thomas Merton (1915-1968) in New Haven, Kentucky, in the Unites States. His Holiness the Dalai Lama, who was a friend of Merton, attended the first Encounter. Each Encounter allows a small group of spiritual practitioners to live, practice, talk and rejoice together in a monastic setting.
Both His Holiness and Lama Zopa Rinpoche encourage interfaith dialogue, which can take many forms. Angelica Walker spoke with Ven. Drimay about her experiences at the interfaith gathering and what she took from it.
How did you become involved in the conference?
I heard about the conference through my friend, Reverend Heng Sure. He is the resident monk at Berkeley Buddhist Monastery in Berkeley, California, which is a branch of City of Ten Thousand Buddhas.
Rev. Heng Sure speaking at the Gethsemani Encounter IV, Kentucky, US, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
What traditions were represented at the conference?
It was just Catholics and Buddhists, and not all Catholic traditions, but specifically Benedictines, monastics who follow the Rule of St. Benedict. There’s an agency called Monastic Interreligious Dialogue which one of the organizers, Sister Hélène, called a “pontifical commission,” meaning someone from the Vatican says it’s OK to do this. Essentially, the conference has the official seal of approval from the Pope.
What traditions of Buddhism were represented?
The majority were Zen practitioners, but when I use the word “Zen,” I’m using that term very loosely. I should probably say “Chan” because it wasn’t necessarily people from the Japanese Zen tradition. There was only one monk from the Japanese Zen tradition from Shasta Abbey. The others were following the Chan tradition from China. At times I had to pipe up and say, “Not all Buddhists say what Zen Buddhists say!” There were only three Tibetan Buddhists there, so we were slightly outnumbered. Besides myself, there were two nuns from Sravasti Abbey in Washington State, which is the abbey that Ven. Thubten Chodron founded near Spokane. Interestingly, those two nuns had been raised Catholic, so they were perhaps more familiar and conversant with Catholic ideas and rituals than I was. I was raised in a Methodist Sunday school and knew about Catholicism only through my friends who went to Catholic church.
One of the nuns from Sravasti Abbey had a very interesting connection with the Abbey of Gethsemani: one of her distant grandfathers sold the land to the Gethsemani monks! Her ancestors are buried in the churchyard at the front entrance. She remembers going there with her parents 30 years ago to visit the family graves.
Participants of the Gethsemani Encounter IV, May 2015
Why do you think it’s important for this type of interfaith conference to take place?
I think it helps both parties freshen up their own practice and way of doing things. After you’ve been in a certain place for a while, things can either get stale, or you just forget there could be a different way to be doing things or thinking about things. It’s not that either side will stop being Catholic or stop being Buddhist, but you may get a new angle on what you’re already doing. For example, by hearing the presentation on lectio divina (“divine reading,” the practice of prayerful and contemplative scripture reading), I will continue thinking about how this applies to my own reading practices.
In fact, I was reminded of what Ven. René Feusi mentions in The Beautiful Way of Life: A Meditation on Shantideva’s Bodhisattva Path, the book that’s recently been published, which basically came out of a retreat practice of what could be called divine reading. He doesn’t call it that, but he would read a verse, think about it, make it his own – you roll it around in your own psyche and see if it speaks to you. What does it say to you, how would you put it in your own words? It was important to hear that there’s another tradition where that’s not accidental, but rather that this is the way to work with scripture.
The Catholics in this particular group were very liberal. The fact that they’re having conversations with Buddhists is a sign that they are liberal. The Gethsemani group has been very interested in learning meditation, and one of the monk-priests who participated took himself over to Japan years ago and learned zazen. Zazen is now a part of his daily practice, not that he’s Buddhist – he’s not giving up his Catholic world-view. But every day he practices on a cushion the way he learned from a Zen master.
They had a retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani with His Holiness the Dalai Lama during which he taught the Catholic participants meditation. It was only offered to Catholics; it wasn’t open to the general public. They’ve been interested in learning Buddhist methods in order to keep their practice fresh and alive and moving forward.
The other thing that was fascinating to me was that one of the presentations was about the nuns, and specifically how someone becomes what Buddhists refer to as “ordained,” which they call “profession.” What we might call “novice ordination,” they call the “rite of first profession.” Later they go through the “rite of perpetual profession.” So it’s like what we Buddhists call “novice ordination” and “full ordination.” We saw a YouTube video of a woman taking her perpetual profession, held at a monastery in Minnesota, which I thought was interesting.
Informal discussion at breakfast during the interfaith gathering, Gethsemani Abbey, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
What did you enjoy most about the event?
It would definitely be the personal connections that usually happened outside of the formal presentations, like when you’re sitting around the dining table talking during the breaks.
But there are two other things that I was pleasantly surprised about. I was expecting the presentations to be boring – usually these types of things are something I feel like I have to just tolerate. But they weren’t boring, and I think the reason was that they were coming from a place of personal experience. The Catholics who were presenting were so scholarly and well-prepared. They had their papers typed up and documented. The Buddhists tended to just speak more off the top of their heads, but the Catholics were very well-prepared. It wasn’t dry scholarship; it was very informative and I learned new things about how they do things and why.
My other favorite part of the event was choir, which is a huge part of what happens at the abbey – about seven or eight times a day. During these choir periods, the monks who live at the abbey gather in the church to do Gregorian chants. The church is very plain. They’ve stripped away all the decorations because they’re Trappist, a Catholic cloistered contemplative order known for discipline and simple living. Usually, the public is behind a screen, but they actually had us – the Buddhist participants – in the choir stalls with them. So, not only were they allowing women in the choir stalls, they were allowing heathens in the choir stalls, if you can call us that. It was very liberal of them, I thought. They had us interspersed with the monks so that they could help us turn the pages because it’s very complicated. Each session, there’s a different “recipe” of what you’re going to recite. They’re working their way through the Psalms, so you have to know which Psalm they’re on each day. There are three different prayer books and bookmarks in different places, so even though it was all spelled out for us, we still needed someone showing us which page we were on. They were very generous and patient with us. I thought about how some of the monks were OK with having us there, and some were probably not that into it, so I was especially conscious of that. It wasn’t everybody’s decision to have the Buddhists in the choir stalls.
Ven. Drimay during choir at Gethsemani Abbey, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
They have a sign posted in the dining room that says something like: “Dear retreatants, please don’t sing louder than the monks and try to keep up the pace.” I thought, “I would never dare to sing louder than the monks!” I was just mouthing the words.
Did you lead any sessions at the conference?
Because I was a late addition to the program, I just added to what Rev. Heng Sure was already scheduled to present. He had a session on maitri (Pali: metta), loving-kindness meditation, and fortunately I’m very used to having to suddenly stand up and speak into the microphone, so I got up and said something about that. I wasn’t leading them in a meditation, I was talking about one of the ways to develop bodhichitta and the particular type of love that is mentioned for that topic. The article on what I talked about – “Love Based on Like” – is on the Dialogue Interreligieux Monastique/Monastic Interreligious Dialogue website.
Ven. Drimay during a presentation at Gethsemani Encounter IV, May 2015
Some of the presentations were more conceptual and some of the presentations were specifically practice, which they call praxis, or, roughly, an accepted practice or custom within their order. Rev. Heng Sure was scheduled to give a praxis presentation on bowing, or prostration. He is particularly qualified to give that presentation because back in the 1970s he was famous for prostrating up Highway 1, from south Pasadena in California up towards Ukiah – more than 800 miles (1,287 km). It took place over two years. The book that is based on that pilgrimage is called Three Steps, One Bow. He has a slideshow from that pilgrimage, which he presented.
When he was done presenting, he said, “Drimay, do you have anything to add?” So I got up and showed them how to do the full-length bow according to the Tibetan tradition, and I mentioned how in the Tibetan tradition the 100,000 prostration practice is one of the standard preliminaries. I also shared that prostrating is a normal practice, that Tibetan people love to prostrate across the country, and sometimes they prostrate right out of the country!
What were some of the ritualistic similarities and differences between the Buddhists and the Catholics?
One presenter was a Korean Catholic monk-priest. In the Catholic tradition, monks can be priests and priests can be monks, but they’re not the same thing. At Gethsemani, out of 42 monks, seven are priests. They’re all monks, but only some of them are priests as well. This Korean monk-priest presenter, Father Anselmo, spoke about being from a country which is traditionally Buddhist. He talked about the Zen imagery of The Ten Ox Herding Pictures, which is similar to the Tibetan Buddhist Elephant on the Path. Father Anselmo presented the Zen ox herding diagrams and related them to the Christian path. That was the presentation that was the most cross-cultural. Most other people were just presenting their tradition’s practices or ways of thinking, but he was bridging traditions right from the start.
One of the Christian presentations I found most interesting was presented by Brother Lawrence, who was the resident participant from the Abbey of Gethsemani. He explained what they’re doing during their “liturgy of the hours,” also called the “offices.” What they’re doing is reciting the Psalms, which are part of the Old Testament. Brother Lawrence describes this literature as expressing every kind of human experience. The thing that each Psalm has in common is that they’re all directed to God. The Psalms include some very violent, lustful aspects; some of it is joyful; some of it is sad or angry. To an outsider, it seems very surprising and strange that these Catholic monks are spending their careers, from before the sun comes up to when the sun goes down, reciting Old Testament literature. They’re basically reciting Jewish scriptures. He asked, “So why do we do this?” He answered his own question, saying, “Because that’s how it has always been done since the time of the Desert Fathers.” This means they are carrying on a tradition which pre-dates Jesus. They’re carrying on a tradition which is more than just Christian. I find that fascinating! It’s like they’re human time capsules.
Stained glass window in Gethsemani Abbey. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
The monks recite different Psalms each session and work their way through them. The chapel has two banks of choir stalls, so side A will recite the first two lines, side B will recite the next two lines, and they call and respond like that across the aisle. Then they recite something called the “doxology,” which is remembering the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. They have some other songs as well; every night they sing a song to Mother Mary.
When somebody from the monastery dies, they wrap up the body in a shroud and place the shroud between the two banks of choir stalls, and they recite, taking turns keeping vigil around the clock, until they’ve recited all 150 of the Psalms. That’s their funeral rite.
Their rituals seemed very transhistoric – timeless. These men spend their lives doing this. They have other jobs and hobbies and do things in their free time, but no matter what else they have going on, they still have to show up seven or eight times a day in the church.
Did you get to know many of the resident monks at the abbey?
We didn’t talk to all of them. Only one of the monks who lived at the abbey was a full-time participant in our conference. The other participants weren’t from Gethsemani. They were from monasteries in Minnesota, Kansas, and Pennsylvania, among other places. Some of the Gethsemani monks dropped in on the conference and I got to know some of the others just by meeting them while they were doing their daily jobs – working the front desk or giving us rides back and forth. After the conference was over, there was a weekly Thomas Merton study group which was led by one of the resident monks. I sat in on it and got to know some of the others through meetings like that.
How do the monks support themselves?
They support themselves entirely by making fruitcake and fudge. They lace both liberally with bourbon. They did have one or two versions that didn’t have the bourbon in it. At first, they had laid some out on a table for us and then quickly realized they had to label it “non-alcohol”!
What were your living quarters like?
They have a beautiful guest house. It’s attached to the main cloister, but outside of it. The set-up of the building was comprised of very traditional architecture where the monks live around a courtyard and at one edge of the courtyard is the church. The monks have their own entrance into the church. On the other side of the courtyard, at the front edge of the church, is a wing which is three-stories high or more of guest facilities, with a dining room and a few meeting rooms. The rooms were very nicely appointed. Each room was single, with a bed, a desk, a reading chair, and a bathroom – much like my own set-up here at Land of Medicine Buddha. So, there was no hardship! It was all very simple, but it had everything I needed.
Visit to Thomas Merton’s retreat cabin, Gethsemani Abbey, Kentucky, US, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
How did the conference come to a close?
Our closing ceremony was held at Thomas Merton’s retreat cabin, which was a little walk down a country road to get to. The Catholics, and even some of the Buddhists who have been influenced by Thomas Merton, felt very moved to be able to visit his cabin; it was like going to Milarepa’s cave or something like that. Some of the Catholic visitors were moved to tears when they went into his cabin. It’s still a working retreat house. Each monk at Gethsemani gets one week a year of personal retreat at the cabin.
After visiting the cabin, we gathered on the front porch and said one thing that was meaningful to us about the gathering and sang some songs. There were several monks who were musical, Rev. Heng Sure among them. One of them played the Native American flute, and I thought, “It’s not just the Buddhists who like to play music!”
Father Michael plays a Native American flute at the close of the Gethsemani Encounter IV, May 2015. Photo by Martin Verhoven.
Ven. Losang Drimay has been studying, practicing and working in FPMT centers since 1984, receiving hundreds of hours of instruction from the many qualified lamas and senior teachers. She eventually took ordination in 1991. She has worked for the FPMT International Office, served as resident teacher at Ocean of Compassion Buddhist Center in Campbell, California for 11 years, and currently lives and works at Land of Medicine Buddha leading regular meditations and classes.
Angelica Walker grew up at Vajrapani Institute in Boulder Creek, California. She met Ven. Losang Drimay when she was three years old. She will soon graduate from the University of California, Santa Cruz with a degree in Literature and Creative Writing.
Lama Zopa Rinpoche making offerings to the Mahabodhi Stupa, Bodhgaya, India. Photo by Ven. Thubten Kunsang.
By Ven. Tenzin Legtsok
Recently, a Dharma friend asked me a question which comes up often in relation to holy objects such as stupas, sutras, and mantras. “So, there’s a story in the lam-rim about a fly unintentionally going around a stupa and as a result having the root of virtue required to take ordination as a novice monk in a future lifetime,” he began. “How could it be that virtue was created in that fly’s mental continuum when the fly had no positive motivation?” he asked. “And if that root of virtue arose in the fly’s mind solely due to the power of the stupa, doesn’t that mean the stupa’s power to benefit sentient beings exists from its own side and so is inherently existent?”
The story, told in Liberation in the Palm of Your Hand,1 is about an old man named Shrijata who wanted to leave his home and take ordination. Venerable Shariputra refused to give Shrijata novice vows, explaining that he didn’t have the roots of virtue to be able to keep ordination. Shrijata was utterly disappointed. Shakyamuni Buddha saw the situation through his clairvoyance, appeared to Shrijata and told him that he does have the roots of virtue to take ordination, but that this virtue is so subtle that Shariputra could not see it. This virtue, the Buddha said, was created in Shrijata’s past life when as a fly – following a cartload of dung – he unknowingly circumambulated a stupa.
According to the Buddhist philosophy of the Middle Way clearly expressed by Nagarjuna, Chandrakirti and Lama Tsongkhapa, it’s argued that nothing exists inherently or totally independent of other things, from its own side. Even if the virtuous imprint that arose in that fly’s mental continuum as a result of going around the stupa was not dependent whatsoever on the fly having a virtuous intention or positive motivation, still the fly had to go around the stupa for that imprint to be produced. That particular root of virtue couldn’t have arisen in the fly’s continuum if it hadn’t gone around the stupa.
Lama Tsongkhapa wrote in The Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment (Lamrim Chenmo), “Those who enjoy the fruits of the innumerable collections amassed by the Teacher need not have accumulated all of the causes of these effects, but they do need to accumulate a portion.”2 So, it’s argued that the fly created a portion of the cause to enjoy the results of the merit collected by past buddhas simply by going around the stupa. Thus, the resultant virtuous imprint that arose in the fly’s continuum was a complex dependent arising connected to the activity of past holy beings and did not arise solely because of the physical stupa, although it did play a part. Even the physical stupa itself is not inherently existent because it exists in dependence on parts, such as its four sides; in dependence on causes and conditions, such as the people who built the stupa and the material it was made from; and in dependence on mental imputation, the label “stupa” being applied appropriately to the base for this label.
But a question remains: how does an inanimate object – no matter how sacred – affect sentient beings regardless of their motivation? This is not so easy of a question to answer. If you’re in doubt that the Buddha taught this, the idea is reiterated in the King of Concentration Sutra, where it says that even looking upon a drawing of a stupa with a mind of anger creates the cause to see millions of buddhas in the future. Similar statements are made in other sutras – such as the Sutra of Golden Light or the Sanghata Sutra – about how hearing merely a few lines from these sutras purifies negative karma collected over eons and helps a practitioner accumulate inconceivable amounts of merit. Lama Zopa Rinpoche has explained that such effects are due to the power of prayer. “It’s like mantra,” Lama Zopa Rinpoche said. “A mantra has power because a buddha blesses it to have power. A mantra is powerful because a buddha makes it powerful. This [ability], the power of prayer, is one of a buddha’s 10 powers.”3
Students circumambulating the stupa at Maitreya School, Root Institute, Bodhgaya, India, March 2015. Photo by Ven. Roger Kunsang.
The power of prayer or aspiration (mönlam gyi wang in Tibetan) is one of many qualities of the wisdom truth body (jñana-dharmakaya) enumerated in chapter 8 of Maitreya’s Ornament of Clear Realization (Abhisamayalamkara). Lama Tsongkhapa describes this quality as follows, “Because they accomplish just as they wish, they have power over prayers included.”4 In short, this means that buddhas have achieved the power to accomplish whatever prayers they make. Lama Tsongkhapa adds that this ability is the result of joyous effort – the fourth of the six perfections – because in the past as bodhisattvas they never stopped striving for the welfare of sentient beings.
One might counter argue, “How could buddhas have the power to accomplish whatever they pray for? They pray for all sentient being to be free from suffering yet countless sentient beings still suffer.” The buddhas’ having achieved the power of prayer is similar to their having achieved the perfection of generosity. That a buddha has completed the perfection of generosity doesn’t mean that they have eliminated all poverty in the world, but instead, that they have perfected the attitude wishing to give whatever they possess for the welfare of others.5 Similarly, achieving power over prayer does not mean that a buddha’s prayers are all immediately fulfilled exactly in accordance with their aspirations, but that from the buddha’s side there is nothing more that could be done to fulfill their prayers. All the incredibly vast oceans of merit that a buddha has accumulated previously as a bodhisattva on the path and as a fully enlightened being has been dedicated toward the fulfillment of their prayers and continually functions to fulfill these intentions. What remains undone is only from the side of sentient beings. Shantideva made a prayer in A Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life:
If in those who encounter me
A faithful or an angry thought arises,
May that eternally be the source
For fulfilling all their wishes.6
Bodhisattvas create unimaginably huge collections of merit and wisdom on the path to enlightenment through their practice of great compassion, bodhichitta and the six perfections. By dedicating all of this positive energy toward fulfilling the welfare of sentient beings, they make it possible for us to enjoy a portion of the fruits of their virtue, what Lama Tsongkhapa’s quote above was about. Thus, the force of bodhichitta, the two collections of merit and wisdom, prayers from the side of enlightened beings, and from the side of ordinary sentient beings like us, the condition of encountering sacred objects – even without a virtuous motivation – together create the possibility for us to easily accumulate virtue, purify negative karma and plant the seeds for liberation and enlightenment. This is one way that stupas, mantras and other holy objects are imbued with power, which is the common answer to the questions about the unintentionally virtuous fly.
Amitabha Buddha statue at Buddha Amitabha Pure Land, Washington, US, June 2015. Photo by Chris Majors.
This ability that stupas, statues and scriptures have to almost passively plant seeds of virtue and enlightenment in the minds of sentient beings makes it obvious what an incredibly skillful means it is to build such holy objects, especially when we consider how hard it is to create causes for liberation from samsara and complete buddhahood. In his discussion of the second noble truth about the origins of suffering, Lama Tsongkhapa makes the very sobering point that without actual renunciation, bodhichitta, or wisdom realizing emptiness, except by the power of exceptional objects in relation to which we create actions, all our virtuous actions contribute to further wandering in cyclic existence under the control of karma. Lama Tsongkhapa says:
… you might not have acquired, through extensive meditative analysis of the faults of cyclic existence, the remedy that eradicates the craving for the wonders of cyclic existence. Also you might not have used discerning wisdom to properly analyze the meaning of selflessness, and might not have become familiar with the two spirits of enlightenment [conventional and ultimate]. Under such circumstances, your virtuous activities – with some exceptions on account of the field’s power – would constitute typical origins of suffering, and hence would fuel the process of cyclic existence.7
For most sentient beings, it is rare to have a truly virtuous thought arise and actual renunciation, bodhichitta and the wisdom realizing emptiness are unheard of. Even among those fortunate enough to aspire to these attitudes, most do not have a clear idea what they are and exactly how to cultivate them, or, although intellectually understanding them, do not actually generate these realizations in their mindstreams. In short, for most of us it is incredibly difficult to generate an actual cause for liberation and enlightenment. The big exception is “on account of the field’s power,” which is to say that in relation to exceptional objects such as the guru, Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, and the holy objects representing these, we can easily create causes for nirvana and the state of omniscience. If by just seeing such objects with a mind of anger plants the seeds for all the realizations on the path to enlightenment, as indicated in the King of Concentration Sutra, then there is no need to mention the far reaching benefits of viewing such objects with a mind of faith, making offerings, constructing and paying homage to these objects in various ways. Through the power of prayer of extraordinary beings, holy objects provide unique opportunities for sentient beings of all levels of intelligence, from the tiniest insects to the most brilliant humans and gods, to easily create causes for liberation and enlightenment and enjoy a share of the positive effects of the buddhas’ two collections of merit and wisdom.
Two objections can arise from our common understanding of the general characteristics of karma and they are important to consider. The first is how can a negative attitude such as anger or craving produce a happy result such as seeing millions of buddhas or taking ordination if karma is certain, in the sense that every experience of pleasure must have arisen from a previous positive karma that is its cause, and every experience of suffering must have arisen from non-virtue. The second is how can we experience the results of positive karmic actions created by others such as buddhas and bodhisattvas if we do not experience the effects of karmic actions we did not commit.
In general, one karmic action can be very complex, arising from a collection of positive and negative causes and producing a variety of results, some pleasant and others unpleasant. For instance, when someone gets angry and insults us and we patiently respond with genuine kindness and concern, we create a positive karma. Although the karmic result of this will be a pleasant experience, one cause of that experience is the anger of the person who insulted us. In the case of someone scowling at an image of a buddha with anger, they will definitely suffer as a result of this action because it is motivated by an afflictive emotion. However, due to the power of the object, an incredibly virtuous object in this case, they will also experience a positive result of that action. The negative result arises primarily due to their negative attitude, whereas the positive result arises primarily due to the power of the particular object, such as a buddha image that is able to produce a positive result for the reasons given above.
In response to the second objection, it’s true that we don’t experience the results of karma created by others with whom we have no relationship whatsoever. However, in some cases, we can experience the results of karma created by others when we form a karmic link with them. For example, when a group of people collectively do an action, like saving the lives of 100 fish, each member of the group accumulates the karma created by the group. In the case of the lucky fly discussed above, it created a karmic link with enlightened beings by going around the stupa. That small action enabled the fly to experience a portion of the positive results arising from the buddhas’ infinite collection of merit and wisdom. In short, the help enlightened beings extend to us is like a hand reaching down to help us climb out of a hole: if we don’t extend a hand up for it to grab onto, we can’t benefit from it.
Countless statues, tsa-tsa, sacred images and offerings fill Lama Zopa Rinpoche’s room at Buddha Amitabha Pure Land, Washington, US, June 2015. Photo by Chris Majors.
The Buddha famously said to analyze his teachings like a goldsmith analyzes gold:
Like gold [that is acquired] upon being scorched, cut, and rubbed,
My word is to be adopted by monastics and scholars
Upon being analyzed well,
Not out of respect [for me].8
We should not throw skepticism to the wind and blindly believe whatever we see in the Buddha’s teachings. That wouldn’t provide a firm foundation for our spiritual development. However, we also need to avoid scornfully dismissing the possibility that sacred objects and beings can have an enlightening influence on us in ways we cannot readily explain. This could close avenues of possible benefit to us which at the time we can’t fully appreciate and lead us to create the heavy negative karma of abandoning the Buddha’s teachings.
The subtle workings of karma are among the most difficult topics in which to gain conviction and because they are considered “very hidden phenomena,” they are traditionally “proven” by appealing to the validity of the Buddha and his teachings. In Buddhist works on valid cognition and logic, the integrity of Buddha as a teacher is established by showing that his teachings on the four noble truths, and especially on emptiness, are true. Generating faith in the Buddha and his teachings, especially on karma, needs to involve not just our intellect, but more importantly, our heart through personal experimentation with the practices taught, which can be a lifelong endeavor much like developing a deep trusting relationship with a spouse or friend. To develop conviction in the power of holy objects, mantras and sutras, it helps to have a reasonable way to conceive of how they can affect us and why this is important. For this purpose, I have tried to present a few supporting arguments and scriptural citations to consider. In the end, though, the measure of whether a set of practices are beneficial to us or not must be our own experience.
In finding our own way to the mountaintop, it would be foolish not to consult the accounts of past masters who’ve gone before such as Shakyamuni Buddha, the ancient Indian pandits of Nalanda and the sages of Tibet by extensively reading their works. As well, it is invaluable to make contact with living teachers who fully embody the Buddha’s teachings, listen to their message and seek their advice. Then while engaging in practices according to their instructions, we monitor whether the transformation in our own minds is for better or worse. Where we see benefit, we delve further and find ourselves discovering possibilities to create inner sources of well-being we had not known before.
Ven. Tenzin Legtsok is currently in his 12th year of the Geshe Studies program at Sera Je Monastic University. He has been ordained as a Buddhist monk since 2001. Born in Virginia, US, in 1973, he obtained a Bachelor of Arts from Kenyon College in 1995. The question of what makes for the most happy and meaningful life, which compelled him to major in philosophy during college, gradually lead to his study of meditation and philosophy with teachers among the exiled Tibetan communities in India and Nepal from 1999 until the present. For the past 10 years he has tried to make basic Buddhist teachings accessible to various audiences in India and the US.
1. Pabongka Rinpoche, translated by Michael Richards (Wisdom, Boston 1991) p. 440.
2. Tsong-kha-pa, The Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment Vol. 1, p. 214.
3. From a conversation with the author in Bangalore, India, 2008.
4. Tsongkhapa, legs bshad rin po che gser gyi phreng ba bzhugs so (Sera Jey Monastic University, 2001). This line was translated by the author although the entire work translated into English by Garath Sparham is published by Jain Publications: Golden Garland of Eloquence, and the line cited here is in Vol. 4, p. 180-1
5. See Tsong-kha-pa, The Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment Vol. 2, edited by Joshua Cutler (Snow Lion, Boston 2004) pp. 114-5.
6. Shantideva, A Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life, trans. By Stephen Batchelor (Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, Dharamsala 1979) Chp. 3, vs. 16.
7. Tsong-kha-pa, The Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment Vol.1, p. 305-6. Tsongkhapa’s statement here is based on a passage by Arya Asanga from the Compendium of Determinations.
8. Cited in Tshongkhapa’s, Treatise Differentiating Interpretable and Definitive Meanings; The Essence of Elloquence, translated by Jeffrey Hopkins in Emptiness in the Mind Only School (University of California Press, London, 1999) p. 71.
Prayer wheel with 64 billion OM MANI PADME HUM mantras at Land of Medicine Buddha, California, US, January 2015. Photo by Laura Miller.
Who hasn’t spun a prayer wheel? Whether a massive work of art that we propel with our whole bodies, a desktop ornament we twist with our fingertips, a decorated paint can on a spoke or a hand-held cylinder, most of us have set a prayer wheel into motion and hoped for blessings to fly out.
But do we consider precisely what is inside the wheel? Oh, mantras, you say. You know that. But mantras have to be printed on something. In the old days, that was paper. You may assume that’s what is in the wheel you are spinning today, but paper is getting less and less common. It only holds so many mantras, and it deteriorates over time. Perhaps you think it should be replaced by a CD or a flash drive – something digital for the modern world. Would that have the same power to bless? Unfortunately, no. Lama Zopa Rinpoche has explained that mantras in prayer wheels, statues and stupas need to be visible – even if only by microscope. A mantra that cannot be seen by the human eye in any circumstances carries no blessing.
Exit digital. Enter microfilm. Unlike bits and bytes, microfilm bears actual images of mantras. And thanks to microfilm, a large prayer wheel can contain billions of them. Better still, the film can last up to five hundred years. Yet while microfilm may seem outrageously modern compared to ancient mantras, the technology is actually aging and falling out of use. That creates its own challenges.
Tai Vautier knows this better than anyone. Tai, a talented jewelry-maker, was born in Spain to Buddhist parents, raised around FPMT’s Lama Yeshe and Lama Zopa Rinpoche at Vajrapani Institute in California, and currently lives in Oregon in the United States. For years now, she has been working to produce mantra microfilm. The story of its current use in FPMT’s holy objects is largely Tai’s story.
Tai Vautier
“Back in 2001,” she recalled, “I was given a hand-held prayer wheel by another FPMT student, Julia Hengst. Julia always carried a prayer wheel in those days, and I used to tease her about it. The one she gave me was wood and made by Jim Glass. He’s passed away now, but he used to make these beautiful prayer wheels. I was skeptical, but when I started spinning the wheel, I noticed right away that it wasn’t just a chunk of wood, it was like a ‘being’ – I felt like I was hanging out with a really good person. I got hooked. Then my husband, Robert Woods, and I decided to make them. Jim Glass taught us in his workshop in Berkeley. This was in 2002, when my kids were just born. We stuck to his design and started making them in our garage in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Jim was using microfilm for the mantras. With film, millions and millions of mantras could go into even a small prayer wheel. Julia always stressed how important that was: the sheer number of mantras. Jim had a stock of microfilm with manis (the mantra OM MANI PADME HUM) on it, but the master had been lost.” In the audio-visual world, a master is the original from which copies are made. Without a master for the microfilm manis, there was no way of making more. “So I decided to create a new OM MANI PADME HUM master,” Tai continued. “That’s how I got started.”
It wasn’t easy finding a microfilm producer to work with. Producers hadn’t heard of prayer wheels and wouldn’t give Tai the time of day. Finally, she ran across a Texan in Albuquerque who worked in microfilm – and who had once given his wife a bracelet engraved with OM MANI PADME HUM. When Tai talked about the mantra, he understood. The two of them started working together in 2003. Tai and her husband kept making wooden prayer wheels for about a year, but she wanted to focus on microfilm. They handed the making of the wheels over to long-time friend Chuck Thomas, who also supplies some of the prayer wheels found in the Foundation Store, FPMT’s online shop.
Dzambhala mantra as seen under the microscope. Image courtesy of Tai Vautier.
Getting as many mantras as possible on the film, while keeping them legible, was Tai’s aim. At first, using an old Ditto machine, she copied mantras from Lorne Ladner’s book, Wheel of Great Compassion: The Practice of the Prayer Wheel in Tibetan Buddhism, but shrinking made these illegible. She then got the original of one set of Lorne’s mantras, which had come from the office of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. This she scanned and edited in Photoshop. She managed to get an astonishing 880,000,000 manis onto a 2,000-foot (610-meter) roll of microfilm. But although the mantra remained readable, the master, due to the shape of the Tibetan letters, was too fragile to withstand the constant duplication needed to fill large orders. While this master is still available for small jobs, a sturdier one was needed. Tai worked long hours in Photoshop to thicken some parts of the Tibetan letters and spread others apart, in effect designing her own font in order to create mantras that were readable after reduction and didn’t cause the film to weaken with heavy use.
Tai’s Photoshopped images turned out well, but the files had too much data to be sent digitally to a microfilm camera. They had to be printed. Even the best printers bleed when letters are that small. And no matter how smooth the paper was, its grain distorted the tiny letters. Tai persevered. She discovered she could send her images digitally to a machine that used a highly sensitive photomultiplier tube. With this, a page of miniature mantras could, like a photo, be developed and printed on completely smooth 11” x 14” (28 cm x 36 cm) paper. This was photographed and printed onto a 5/8” (16 mm) frame of microfilm. Each mantra, at this point, was no larger than the tip of a hair and visible only by microscope.
Just how small could they go? In her passion for numbers, Tai worried that she might be shrinking the mantras too much. She consulted Lama Zopa Rinpoche. Size didn’t matter, he said, as long as the mantras remained perfectly clear under magnification. To improve quality, she upsized the mantras slightly, going from “super high-density” to “high-density.” A 2,000-foot (610-meter) high-density roll of microfilm now holds 685,809,230 mani mantras. Over the years, she made a total of 18 such high-density masters for various mantras requested by different Dharma groups, each one taking months of painstaking labor to complete.
Prayer wheel made by FPMT student Chuck Thomas for the Foundation Store, FPMT International Office’s online shop
Tai achieved her goal of putting vast numbers of crystal-clear mantras onto microfilm, and Dharma centers have purchased more than a million dollars worth of high-density film made from her masters. The film is in hundreds of prayer wheels and other holy objects around the world. For Tai, it was a labor of love, and all done as a volunteer. She said, smiling, “I was just happy to help people make mantras. Because of having had my own prayer wheel for a while, I could see how important they were. But after making 18 master rolls, I did need a rest!”
While Tai refocused her life on family and jewelry-making, the company she had worked with to print the microfilm rolls went through ownership changes. Eventually about 50 master rolls of mantras, prayers, and PDFs of sutras made by Tai, FPMT, prayer wheel makers, and others were in company’s hands. But over time, the master rolls, some in good condition and some deteriorating with use, were moved to a different city and a company where Tai no longer had a contact. And although Lama Zopa Rinpoche had asked Tai to keep an eye on quality, the changes in ownership and location made this impossible. In 2014, orders started to back up, shipments fell to nothing, and phone calls to the company went unreturned. Worse, the master rolls were nowhere to be found. Tai started getting calls. Was she willing to plunge back into the microfilm project?
Tai didn’t hesitate. She contacted the company, and, after some back and forth, managed to get most of the masters back. Missing was the one most heavily used – the mani roll. As fortune would have it, Tom Truty, FPMT’s director of Education Services, had a second master of that one at FPMT’s International Office in Portland – a back-up wisely archived years earlier. With the help of FPMT as well as translator-scholar Eric Fry-Miller, Tai inspected the master rolls for quality. Some had broken down, but about 30 remained in good enough condition to be put back into use.
Jeff Lindquist, 2015
She took on yet another challenge: finding a new producer in a world where few printers still work with microfilm. Luck was on her side. Practically on her doorstep, Tai found Jeff Lindquist and his company Linco Micro-Image Systems, of Clackamas, Oregon. Jeff grew up around microfilm – his father was in the business – but was considering getting out in favor of digital. When Tai talked to him, he changed his mind.
“I have a passion for microfilm, so I’m fascinated to see it being used in this unique way,” said Jeff. “I’ve been reading Lorne Ladner’s book because I want to learn everything about this so we can do it perfectly. We’ve invested in a new camera to get the best clarity – with such small images, precision is vital. And quality is our main goal. We’re also looking for a second duplicator to make sure we can meet the demand, and I plan to hire one or two new people once everything gets going. It’s exciting.” Jeff is already filling orders – and Tai is delighted with his commitment to quality and understanding of the details.
And, working with Tom Truty, Tai and Jeff are taking steps to make microfilm easier to order and use.
First, they relabeled each master roll in both English and Tibetan, with labels that show direction as well as name, and can be read without magnification. This helps users to know what is on the film, install it upright, and ensure it revolves in the correct direction, a priority of Lama Zopa Rinpoche. Labels have been inserted every 100 feet (30 meters), so if a film gets broken, the pieces can still be identified.
“Relabeling is something I’ve wanted to do for a while,” Tai explained. “I get complaints from prayer wheel makers about how hard it is to know which film they are using or its direction, since the mantras can only be read with a scientific microscope. And then the microscope flips the image, making it even more complicated to figure out which way it’s going. Now, every single roll has a clear indicator that can be seen with the naked eye. Jeff and I spent weeks on this, but it’s worth it!”
Second, with the collaboration of Eric Fry-Miller, Tai has been helping Jeff to create a website – buddhistmicrofilm.com – so customers can order on-line from a list of what’s available. Jeff also plans to keep a stock of popular mantras on hand for quick delivery. And for those needing to put a new mantra or text on microfilm, he will make PDF-style masters on request. The website will also list makers of prayer wheels.
FPMT is helping too. Even though others will be able to order copies of FPMT’s masters from Linco, Tom Truty has made clear that FPMT will not collect royalties – a practical way to keep prices low, and one in keeping with a karma-based approach to spiritual products.
Will Tai make more high-density masters? Existing ones will eventually erode and need replacing, but using the old photomultiplier technology is probably no longer feasible. Making PDFs of pages, or typing then shrinking mantras digitally, are solutions that produce fewer mantras, but allow masters to be created more easily. But Tai hasn’t abandoned the dream of high-density. “I’m checking it out,” she said. “Jeff has access to a newer technology that may be able to create high-density masters without the time or expense of the old process. We are making test runs and it looks hopeful.” She smiled as she explained. “I still want prayer wheels to have billions of mantras!”
Tai was thrilled to hear that the new arrangements for microfilm have received a final stamp of approval. “Lama Zopa Rinpoche himself has ordered the first new master roll to be made by Linco. It includes the five powerful mantras, the four Dharmakaya Relic mantras, Avalokiteshvara and others. And anyone will be able to order it. So we are really honored!”
It’s a fitting tribute to Tai’s efforts to fill the universe with billions of blessings.
More information on mantra microfilm, including ways to order it for stupas and statues is made available by FPMT Education Services on FPMT.org.
Prayer wheels of different kinds and sizes are available through the Foundation Store, FPMT International Office’s online shop. All proceeds from the Foundation Store are used to further the charitable mission of FPMT, Inc.
Donna Lynn Brown is a regular Mandala contributor and a student at Maitripa College in Portland, Oregon, US.
Rasmus Hougaard, Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, US, February 2015. Photo by Marc Sakamoto.
Rasmus Hougaard is the founder and managing director of the Potential Project, an international program based in Copenhagen, Denmark, that works with corporations and organizations to equip their leaders and employees with methods to be more kind, clear-minded, focused and efficient. Active in Europe, Asia, Australia and North America, the Potential Project provides Corporate-Based Mindfulness Training, which is a learning program recognized by the Foundation for Developing Compassion and Wisdom (FDCW), an FPMT-affiliated project devoted to developing and promoting Lama Yeshe’s vision of universal education. Rasmus spoke with Mandala managing editor Laura Miller in February 2015, during a visit to Maitripa College in Portland, Oregon, US.
Laura Miller: Tell me a little about yourself and how you came to start the Potential Project.
Rasmus Hougaard: I’m an FPMT student. I’ve been that for quite a few years and I feel very closely related to Lama Zopa Rinpoche – just as much as through Lama Yeshe’s vision of universal education, which is promoted by FDCW. I have been a director of Tong-nyi Nying-je Ling, the FPMT center in Copenhagen, for a number of years. I have been guiding classes there for many years. I’ve been teaching retreats at FPMT centers around Europe and the world for around the last eight years or so, so I feel very close to FPMT. It is really my family for sure.
Also, I have this very, very strong connection with the whole idea of universal education as Lama Yeshe taught it himself. That really blew my mind when I first heard about it. I joined what would become the FDCW team in London – before it was really a team – when Allison Murdoch was just beginning to start it up years ago. I was part of the first training course on the 16 Guidelines, the trainer training for that and a number of other things.
At some point, I took a year off to figure out how I could create the most benefit in this short lifetime. I came to the conclusion after a year thinking that I should bring “mind training” – what I call “Dharma in disguise” – into other for-profit and non-profit organizations. I had three main reasons for the project. One is because people in those environments need it a lot, because they are very stressed and they need good tools to cope. You can bring them Dharma in a way in which they will embrace it. They won’t go to a Dharma center. Another reason is there is a lot of power in organizations nowadays, so if you can influence them to think more ethically, more compassionately, then there could be a really nice ripple throughout the world, not just in those companies that we would work with. The last one was that everyone needs to be able to make a living off the work that they do, and I just know so many good Dharma students who are working with all kinds of jobs that are fine and good, but where they are not using their best skills of teaching the Dharma. I thought that if we could create a vehicle whereby Dharma teachers could actually join and go and spread the Dharma in disguise in organizations, we would have more happy people, have a better world, and would have income that we could then donate to organizations like Maitripa College or the many other FPMT-related center, projects and services. That is where it all came from – a vision of doing a lot of good in a very focused way.
Laura: What’s the best way to teach mindfulness? Can we get all the potential benefits of developing mindfulness from Dharma practice in the traditional way of studying the texts, meditating and doing the practices? Or does Western science add something to this that helps us integrate it better into our modern lives? What is your perspective on the spectrum of very traditional presentations to very secular?
Rasmus: I think, to make use of the words of the Buddha, the Dharma has “one taste,” and it is the taste of freedom. That taste can be presented in many, many different ways. It could be presented, as you say, very traditionally or very secularly. In my mind, it really doesn’t matter what you do. It is just important that you think about who your audience is, and then do what works for them – skillful means. I am not attached to the secular. I am not attached to the traditional. I am focused on finding ways of delivering the same messages, the same core, the same essence, the same methods, the same wisdom to people in a way that they can relate to it.
In our work at the Potential Project, we go out to people not only who are not interested in Dharma, but they are not necessarily even interested in mindfulness. The organizations pay for us to do the work, but the people signing up for the course haven’t asked for it necessarily. We have to be very, very skillful in presenting mindfulness in a way where they are attracted to it right away and where they find some benefits right away. That is really what I think is very important: look at what the audience needs.
Slide from Potential Project workshop. Courtesy of Rasmus Hougaard.
Laura: When the Potential Project is brought into a company, what do you do? Could you describe the process and the work itself?
Rasmus: In terms of schedule, we do many different things. What we prefer to do is a large “implementation program,” as we call it. This is an 11-workshop program where we come in for 11 sessions spread over four months. Each session is one and a half hours. We are teaching them basically three things. The first thing is the actual mindfulness practice. During the first five weeks, we teach them what in Sanskrit is called shamatha training – stilling the mind – shiné in Tibetan. From there we move into vipassana, or what’s called in Tibetan lhaktong training. We go into the basic philosophy of impermanence, dissatisfaction and emptiness. So that is the foundation of the actual mind training. On top of that, we build a layer of skills that we call “mental strategies,” which are really basic Buddhist principles of patience, compassion, beginner’s mind, acceptance – those basic things that you need to develop in your life if you want not only a happier life, but also a life where you are more in tune with other people and where you can be more effective in your work.
Then the last layer of skills we help develop are specifically designed for the audience we are talking to and is about relating mindfulness to their work. For example, how can you use and how can you develop more focus and more insight in your way of answering and receiving email? How can you develop your mind to be more focused and be more clear and wise in your meetings? How do you do that when setting goals and priorities, when planning your time? So all those practices that we have to do while we are at work, how can we utilize the power of training the mind and how can we train the mind while engaging in those activities?
Laura: What kind of responses do you get from this, and have you seen changes within companies that have done your trainings?
Rasmus: The very short answer is yes, definitely, we’ve seen changes. Before the Potential Project started doing this work, I had been teaching meditation in Dharma centers and I had seen people coming in being very motivated and making good progress over a number of years. When we started going into organizations, I thought I would never experience the same kind of motivation and the same kind of progress. However, I was very surprised to see that the transformation actually went sometimes much faster. You go into a full department and they all together embark on this journey of developing a mind that is clearer, calmer and more kind, and they actually do it during working hours. They start to change their work culture based on these principles. It is almost like a retreat because they are there for 8 or 10 hours every day. They make amazing progress fairly fast.
Laura: I have seen articles critical of bringing mindfulness into corporate situations – basically, the concern is whether ethics and compassion are being left out of mindfulness instruction. I think there is a fear that mindfulness could be used by corporations to become more profitable at the expense of poor people and so forth. I’m sure you have seen these critiques. What are your thoughts about this?
Rasmus: I fully understand the criticism and the whole backlash against mindfulness. I have to be honest, I also sympathize with a large part of it. I don’t want to play holy and say we do everything right, because honestly, I don’t know what is right and what is not right. I have some good ideas and I have been checking with my teachers. I think one of the problems with the very secular mindfulness that we see nowadays is that it is a very, very watered down, stripped down version of the Dharma. I wouldn’t even call it Dharma. It is really a psychological approach to the suffering of samsara, that is, how can you alleviate a bit of distress that you are experiencing. Whether it is unethical or not, I don’t know. If that is unethical, then neuro-linguistic programing and many other things are also unethical. I don’t want to have a standpoint on that. From my point of view, coming from a Dharma background, merely alleviating distress is certainly not what we are interested in. We first of all take the actual practice very seriously. Shamata is not for fun. Shamata is a serious practice. It is hard work. Lhaktong practice, vipassana, is not always fun. It can be very painful. It can be very tough. We don’t try to make it easier; we don’t try to wrap it in a way where it is easier than it is supposed to be.
I think there are two things that should always be there in mindfulness: one is the ethical component and the other one is the compassionate component. Without those two, I think you have lost the essence of mindfulness. Our presentation of mindfulness is coming from Buddhism. You can’t take away from that, and you can’t disregard all of the masters of the past that have said that mindfulness, ethics and compassion go hand-in-hand. You can’t have real mindfulness without having compassion. So it is a big part of our program, although not obviously. We don’t tell our clients, “We teach compassion in our ethical program,” because they would never engage with us. We tell them instead that we are coming with a mindfulness program that will make their employees more effective, more calm, more kind, and then we introduce ideas of compassion once we’re in the door.
Slide from Potential Project workshop. Courtesy of Rasmus Hougaard.
Laura: How do you introduce compassion within the corporate setting?
Rasmus: We work with American Express. We work with Microsoft. We work with Accenture. We work with really hardcore, performing, conservative organizations. How do we introduce compassion? We don’t use the word “compassion” – that’s the first thing. We just call it “kindness.” Everyone can agree to kindness, but compassion is a little bit too fluffy for them.
We work with a global consultancy firm, the leading one in the world, in their Manhattan office in New York. When we had the sessions specifically on kindness, because they had been meditating for five to six weeks by then and because so many new seeds had been planted in their minds, they started seeing kindness as not just a nice idea, but something that would benefit themselves and others, and also as a foundation of their way of doing business. They understood that if they could have a real, kind, compassionate approach to their clients, their clients would probably be happier and also would buy more products from them. They suddenly saw a very virtuous circle: they develop good attitudes within themselves, they serve their clients better, and they receive more business, which is nice for them and nice for everyone, as long as the intention is right.
We find communicating these ideas astonishingly easy because human beings are good beings. We don’t want to be evil and we don’t want to suffer; we want to be happy and we want others to be happy as well. If we just provide the space where people can develop this, we find that it comes very much by itself, although we do help them a bit.
Rasmus Hougaard, Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, US, February 2015. Photo by Marc Sakamoto.
Laura: Let’s talk about email. (laugh)
Rasmus: (laugh) Emails, yeah.
Laura: Over the last year I’ve gone to a couple meetings – the CPMT meeting in Australia – and I was at the North American Regional Meeting and the Foundation Service Seminar, and for people working within the FPMT organization at Dharma centers or in the International Office, I hear people talking about being overwhelmed by email. It’s something I definitely experience and struggle with. And we also have experiences with misunderstandings and confusion resulting from emails. What kinds of ideas and strategies do you talk about in a Potential Project session concerning email? What is something that I can learn from you today about how to do email better?
Rasmus: This ties into your question about whether we present mindfulness in a traditional Dharma way or in a secular way. For this, I’ll just give a completely, stripped down, secular approach to how can you better harness the potential of your mind in your way of dealing with email.
A fundamental aspect about email is that it is one of the biggest triggers of dopamine in your brain, which scientifically is a way of talking about what is called “attachment” from the Buddhist perspective. We have a strong attachment/aversion relationship with our email. We are very compelled to constantly check it. Most people check their email all the time. The downside of that is that it is stressful and it is very inefficient. You get more stressed because you don’t get enough done. The mind, because of both aversion and attraction, just wants to check email all the time, which we end up doing. The more we do it, the more we get into the habit of doing it. And we get more habitual in terms of attachment and aversion. That is not very useful, so we need to find strategies for pausing and distancing ourselves from this mind.
One is to not check email first thing in the morning. When you wake up in the morning and you have done your practice, you come into the office with an expansive, focused mind. If you started the day writing a very important article or doing another thing that really requires your clarity and focus of mind, you would be very well off. But many of us instead open our email program and immediately are bombarded with all the details and unresolved issues of yesterday; today becomes all the crap from yesterday, basically. Not checking email for the first 15 minutes, maybe 60 minutes, maybe two hours in the morning is a very smart strategy.
Another one that is very important is not to have your email open all the time, because if it is open all the time, it will constantly remind you that there is something that could be triggering some dopamine in your brain. Close down all your digital communication for different periods of times throughout the day. Or, say that from 9 a.m. to 10 a.m. and from 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. are the times when I will be checking my email, and no times else. Those are very basic things. Also, switch off all your alerts, all the bells and whistles and all the notifications. There are many small, very practical things you can do whereby you’ll be more focused and less stressed and actually have a more equanimous, balanced mind because you are not driven by that rush of reading new things all the time. Create less addiction.
Laura: Have you seen the results of that with some of your clients? Could you talk about that a little bit, because it seems very difficult to imagine in a certain sense.
Rasmus: As a disclaimer: people may think that I’m just sitting around in a nice Buddhist setting, that because I come from a Buddhist background I must be a hippie from Denmark, the world’s happiest country. But the Potential Project is an organization with 140 people now. We are in 20 countries. We are very, very busy. I travel all the time. This advice is not coming from someone who is having a very easygoing work life. It can be quite tough, actually.
So what have our clients done? I can give a few examples. Carlsberg, a Danish brewer, with whom we worked with over a year implementing this mindfulness program in their entire organization, ended up switching off their email servers at 6 p.m. and reopening them at 6 a.m. They switched off email activities for 12 hours every day for the reason that they didn’t want people to be spammed with emails into the night instead of being home with their families.
A large insurance company decided on email-free Wednesdays. On Wednesdays, no internal email simply allowed employees to be able to have quality time together and to be able to focus on the important things rather than on a constant stream of email all the time. We see many interesting initiatives to basically develop a more calm and mindful way of working rather than just perpetuating the habit that we are all in nowadays.
Photo: Dreamstime.
Laura: How does someone get involved with the Potential Project? Is there a path to becoming a trainer?
Rasmus: There certainly there is. You can go on our website and find the “Want to join?” section. There is an application form that needs to be filled in and sent to us. We do have quite a few FPMT folks within our organization. Having said that, we have found that it is not enough for people to have a good Dharma background. People also need to have a good meditation background, which is not always the case for everyone having a Dharma background. It is also very important that they have a deep experience of what work life is like in a large organization because we have found that if you don’t have that, you can’t really relate to the reality that people are facing. People can easily perceive you as a little bit flaky and it is not very well received, just as if you were bringing a real business man to talk in a Dharma center. Dharma students maybe wouldn’t relate so well to it because they would rather see a trained Dharma teacher. If you go into an organization, you need to have a corporate appeal that will help them see that you really understand their world.
One thing that is important for me to emphasize is that the work that we are doing could never have been possible without FPMT and without many great Dharma teachers, the real Dharma teachers that have been supporting this for many years, maintain our integrity, keeping the messages really clear that it is Dharma and not just a new psychological model or well-being approach. We touched or reached 25,000 people last year. It is only due to the kindness of all the great teachers of FPMT and other organizations.
Learn more from Rasmus in “The Potential Project and Corporate-Based Midnfulness Training” from Mandala April-June 2014. Find even more about the Potential Project at http://potentialproject.com.
Monks working on memorization at Sera IMI House, Bylakuppe, India, November 2013. Photo by Sandesh Kadur|www.felis.in.
Ven. Tenzin Gache (Brian Roiter), an American monk who just finished his seventh year of study in Sera Je’s geshe program, is a top memorizer and debater. In August 2013, he was one of 16 from his class of 118 chosen to participate in the rik chung debate held at Sera Je Monastic University in South India, a tradition instituted in the 17th century by Desi Sangye Gyatso, the regent to the Fifth Dalai Lama. In February 2015, Ven. Gache received the top award in the lo gyü chenmo (the Great Memorization Exam) at Sera Je Monastery, having committed to memory 873 pages.
Mandala asked Ven. Gache to discuss the history and role of memorization in monastic education and to share memorization tips to help lay students build their own skills.
In his biography of his teacher, Khedrub Je claims that Lama Tsongkhapa would memorize an astounding 17 folios (34 pages) of Buddhist text per day. Two natural reactions to this statement might be, “Is that even possible? It must be exaggerated,” and “Is that really a constructive use of one’s time and energy?” Without giving direct answers to these questions, I would like to respond first by describing a little bit about the place of memorization in Buddhist practice, both historically and today, and some of its potential benefits.
Ven. Tenzin Gache reciting from memorization during the tsog sag, Sera Je Monastery, India, August 2013. Photo courtesy of Ven. Gache.
Memorization has played a central role in the Buddhism’s saga since its earliest days. For the first few hundred years, the sutras and their commentaries were not written down. Monks and nuns would work together to keep these discourses in memory, orally passing them on to the next generation. In the First Council of Arhats shortly after the Buddha’s passing [also known as the First Buddhist Council, c. 550-450 BCE], his attendant Ananda recited from memory the entirety of the Sutra Pitaka [the collection of sutras], while another monk, Upali, recited the discourses on vinaya [monastic discipline]. Even after these discourses were committed to paper, memorization remained a standard practice in the monasteries and nunneries of India. The great scholar-practitioner Acharya Vasubandhu [c. 4th century CE] is said to have maintained a yearly ritual wherein he would sit upright for several days, gradually reciting all of the texts he had memorized in a bathtub of oil to keep himself awake. More recently, Geshe Rabten [1921-86 CE] observed a similar yearly ritual, but without the oil.
Memorization of the sutras and their commentaries is a standard monastic practice in all Buddhist countries, but here I will focus mainly on its expression in my own monastery, Sera Je, one of the three great Gelug monastic universities now located in South India.
Memorization in the Monastic Curriculum at Sera Je
Memorization is a significant part of a monk’s daily schedule, and mainly serves three purposes: memorizing philosophical texts for debate, memorizing prayers and rituals, and memorizing practical, advice-oriented texts. Each monk is free to choose how much he emphasizes any of these three.
Philosophical Texts
Memorization at Sera Je is an integral part of a greater study program that heavily emphasizes debate. In this context, memorization does not become a mere rote ritual, as a monk is expected to also be able to give a detailed explanation of the meaning of a text and defend his arguments against a barrage of criticism.
The discipline of most khangtsen (monastic colleges, or, houses) requires a monk to rise before dawn and recite new material for at least an hour. When there is no morning debate, many monks will continue until lunchtime. In the evening, monks review this material until close to midnight. During holiday breaks, many monks will stay in “memorization retreat,” reciting full-time.
The best memorizers will memorize entire texts such as Lama Tsongkhapa’s Essence of Eloquence, Haribhadra’s Clear Meaning Commentary, and several of Sera Je’s textbooks composed by Jetsün Chökyi Gyaltsen. Others will focus only on the definitions, divisions and key passages. These texts are often terse and confusing, and will only gradually unfold their meaning through prolonged reflection and debate.
At debate, which can last up to six hours a day, one cannot carry a book, so all debating must be done from memory. Often a monk will initiate a public debate with a quote from a text, prompting the defender to correctly identify the source and context. If he cannot answer, the crowd will yell “Chay!” (“Speak!”) until he can. If he is stuck, the questioner might give a few more words from the quote. Later on in the debate, the questioner is free to give quotes to support his argument, but is expected to recite them from memory. If he simply says, “It says something like this in that text,” he may meet with laughter.
Prayers and Rituals
Pujas and group prayers are a daily complement to the debate program. Monks cannot carry prayer books, so they must recite these prayers from memory as best they can. Before even entering the debate program, one is expected to memorize an 80-page prayer book and recite parts of it in a group before the abbot. The monks most serious about chanting will enter the don zang (good reciter) group, later advancing to kä zang (good voice) and finally to umdze (head chanter). The umdze must have the better part of a thousand pages of material memorized and ready for fast-paced reciting. At the tantric monasteries of Gyuto and Gyume, this second aspect of memorization is more heavily emphasized, and all monks must memorize the liturgy that includes the self-generation and self-empowerment of several tantric deities.
Young monks memorizing at Dromo Labrang, Sera Je Monastery, India. Photo by Ven. Jampa Monlam.
Practical Texts
Memorization of practice-oriented texts is not officially part of the study program, though the monastery does recognize monks who have memorized certain of these texts such as Shantideva’s Entering the Bodhisattva Deeds [also known as Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life], Nagarjuna’s Six-Fold Collection of Reasoning,1 and the Five-Fold Dharma of Maitreya.2 Some monks will recite these texts in their spare time such as when walking to and from debate.
The monastery utilizes various skillful methods to encourage monks to memorize. Written memorization exams on the yearly study material are a standard part of the course syllabus, and monks can also opt to take special memorization exams on entire texts. The lo gyü chenmo, “Great Memorization Exam,” is a yearly tradition in which any monk can come and offer an oral exam of whatever material he has prepared. A monk will bring one or more books and place it before a geshe who will proceed to read passages at random. The candidate must continue reciting where the geshe leaves off. The geshe will continue in this way until he is or isn’t satisfied that the candidate really has the material in memory. A scorekeeper sitting behind the geshe keeps track of how many pages the candidate can offer. Several months later, the study deans announce the total scores, awarding a prize to those with the highest totals.
If a monk has memorized an entire text, he is also eligible to perform tsog sag, “merit accumulation,” where over the course of a month he will gradually, rhythmically recite part of the text before the community during the tea breaks in pujas.
Even after completing the study program, the top scholars must continue to memorize: the gekyö (disciplinarian) must recite the monastery rules and the khenpo (abbot) must recite a variety of long texts such as the sojong (monastic confession) ceremony and its associated sutras.
Benefits of Memorization
One common criticism people raise about memorization is that it is just words. It’s true, they are “just words,” however, the words we say and hear have a powerful effect on how we think, feel and behave. For many of us today, popular songs, movie clips and catchphrases continuously replay themselves in our conscious and unconscious layers of mind, subtly influencing our mood and belief system in ways we may not notice until we try to meditate and find our mind is like Times Square or worse.
Ven. Tenzin Legtsok memorizing at Sera IMI House, India, November 2013. Photo by Sandesh Kadur|www.felis.in.
As the content of popular culture mostly encourages attachment, worry or violence, becoming mindful of what we consume is sound advice for bringing our mind into a more peaceful space. Another method to counter these negative influences is to fill our mind with more constructive pathways. Cultivation of positive mental states like compassion, patience and introspection is essential, and memorizing texts and prayers that encourage these states helps to enhance them and ensure that they become more habitual. In fact, the Tibetan word for meditation, gom, literally means “to habituate.” First we learn something and commit it to memory, then we reflect on it and consider its meaning. Finally, we call it to mind again and again, familiarizing with its message and gradually deepening our understanding.
Vasubandhu explains that the lineage of the Buddha’s teachings is twofold: the teachings of scripture and the teachings of realization. Initially, generating realizations in our mind-stream is difficult, especially if we are strongly conditioned to contrary forms of thought and behavior. However, we can immediately participate in the scriptural lineage if we memorize texts and reflect on their meaning. This will place strong imprints on our mind that will gradually develop into deeper realization. Because past masters have composed and recited these same texts and developed these realizations, the mere words are also thought to carry an energy that will purify and ripen our mind-stream. Much like prostrations and mantra recitation, memorization can be a powerful preliminary practice before more advanced meditation.
Dharmakirti points out that while physical development is limited – even Olympic athletes will reach a limit in how far they can extend their jump – the mind’s potential is limitless. Athletes train the body through exercise. Memorization is an exercise for the mind, and much like a physical one, is something in which we can practice, improve and eventually excel. This process enhances and sharpens the mental faculties, which we can then apply to analysis and meditation. Whereas neuroscientists once believed that the adult brain could not develop new neurons for memory or otherwise change its hard-wiring, advances in past decades have firmly overturned this dogma.3 A significant body of study also suggests that memory training may reduce the risk of dementia in old age.4
Rather than leading to dry, uninspired repetition of old facts, memorizing texts allows a student or teacher to be more fully creative. At debate, a monk who can picture the entire text can form connections and penetrate its layers of meaning, authoritatively dispelling wrong conceptions and groundless assertions. A teacher who can recite relevant quotes and call upon ideas from a variety of sources will impress upon students the profound depths and vast breadth of Buddhism’s scholastic, practical and poetic traditions. Memorization is key element in an immersion into these traditions that will gradually pacify and transform those willing to make the effort.
Watch “Ven. Tenzin Gache (Brian Roiter) at Rik Chung Ceremony, August 4, 2013″ on YouTube.
Conclusions and Where to Begin
When I was at high school in the United States, a visitor who had memorized Paradise Lost performed for our senior English class. We found the performance impressive, even amusing, but many of us wondered to ourselves why anyone would spend so much time on a seemingly trivial activity. With the advent of calculators and computers, and especially more recently with smartphones and iPads, the art of mental aerobics such as memorization seems obsolete. Why calculate in your head when you have a calculator and why memorize when you have a digital encyclopedia? Similarly, modern Dharma students might ask whether the monastic tradition of memorization is important in Western Dharma centers.
If the value of memorization lay purely in the recollection of specific facts, we would be better off keeping our gadgets. I hope this article has suggested that memorization might mean much more. The intention behind memorization is not to become a warehouse of old facts, but to actively train and develop your cognitive abilities and familiarize yourself with constructive ways of thinking. Many of us read a passage from a Dharma text and think, “I must remember this point,” but how often do we forget our initial insight and inspiration? Through memorizing inspiring texts, we continuously call them to mind, habituating ourselves to the positive attitude they convey. Through memorizing difficult texts, we gradually begin to penetrate their hidden significance, while integrating the message into our being in a way that we can start to feel, “This is a part of me.” If we truly are the summation of what we think and believe, we would be prudent to familiarize with eloquent, uplifting and sagacious sayings rather than much of the superficial relics of pop culture that bombard us if we tune into TV and the internet.
If you are wondering where to begin, a good place to start would be to memorize your daily commitments or the teaching prayers at your local Dharma center. Practically oriented verses like Three Principal Aspect of the Path, Lines of Experience, and 37 Practices of Bodhisattvas are also good for daily recitation. Serious students might consider memorizing the root texts or commentaries they are studying. Young students who start now will build a talent that will increase over time and enhance their development. Older students will help keep their minds sharp and memory fresh. In time, memorization can become an element of Western Dharma practice, just as it has been in Buddhist communities in all times and places.
- Set aside some time each day, preferably early in the morning for new material and late in the evening for re-reciting what you memorized in the morning.
- Sit up straight or gently pace in an open area, preferably somewhere where your recitation won’t disturb others.
- Before memorizing, “warm-up” with recitations like Praise of Manjushri, Prayer to Achieve Inner Kalarupa, and Chanting the Names of Manjushri.
- Start by reciting one half a line. When you can recite this five times without looking at the book, recite the second half. Then recite them together. Then do another line. Then add the two together. Continue in this way, gradually adding to the total, until you finish a verse or a few lines of prose. If you are able, start again with a second verse. Then recite the two together. Over time, you may be able to increase the number of verses you can do in a day
- Once you have something committed to memory, continue to recite it once or more a day until it becomes stable. Then gradually decrease your recitation to once every two days, three days, etc. If you have something very well memorized, you may only need to recite it once a month, but getting to that point will take time.
- During your daily activities, minimize distraction and stimulation, especially loud music. Just as when meditating, keeping your mind clear will enhance your practice sessions.
Some Additional Suggestions (optional):
- Before beginning to memorize something, simply recite it every day for one month.
- When you have memorized something well, stop reciting it for some time. When you start again, it will take a little time to bring it back, but it will become more stable.
- Ask a friend or teacher to examine you on what you have memorized – preparing for an exam can enhance your focus.
Ven. Tenzin Gache (Brian Roiter) is an American monk living at Sera International Mahayana Institute (IMI) House in Bylakuppe, India, and studying at Sera Je Monastic University. Mandala is looking forward to publishing regular features written by Sera IMI monks about monastic life and practice.
In case you missed last month’s online feature, “Jeffrey Hopkins’ Transmission of Honesty,” you can read it now. If you like Mandala’s online features, consider becoming a Friends of FPMT, which supports our work as well as the education programs of FPMT.
1. Root Wisdom, Finely Woven, Seventy Stanzas on Emptiness, Dispelling Objections, Sixty Stanzas on Reasoning, and Precious Garland.
2. Ornament for Clear Realization, Ornament for the Mahayana Sutras, Differentiating Middle and Extremes, Differentiating Phenomena and Pure Being, and Sublime Continuum.
3. See, for instance, William Skagg’s “New Neurons for New Memories” in Scientific American Mind September/October 2014; or Dr. Jeffrey Schwartz’s excellent The Mind and the Brain: Neuroplasticity and the Power of Mental Force, Harper Perennial, 2002.
4. See “Memory in Old Age Can Be Bolstered” in Scientific American Mind November 2012; and “Promising Strategies for the Prevention of Dementia.”
Professor Jeffrey Hopkins, Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, United States, September 2011. Photo by Marc Sakamoto.
Dr. Jeffrey Hopkins, now 74, is professor emeritus at the University of Virginia and one of the world’s top scholars of Buddhism. He has published 42 books, acted as His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s translator, and had a long academic career during which he trained many prominent Tibetan Buddhist scholars and translators. He currently leads UMA Institute for Tibetan Studies. Dr. Hopkins has been remarkably open in public about a wide range of matters, such as his initial lack of faith in His Holiness, past-life memories, a near-death experience, his youthful delinquency, his sexuality, and so on.
Donna Lynn Brown interviewed him in December 2014 to find out what lessons his honesty might hold for other Buddhist practitioners.
Dr. Hopkins, what is the source of your frankness? Why are you so open?
I was born in 1940 in Barrington, Rhode Island, and I was in my teens in the 1950s. There was a group of us who were disgusted by the aims that were being presented to us: merely making money and so forth. There was a lot of rebellion that was focused against the dishonesty of society, which gradually in my own mind became a matter of seeking my own integrity. My own integrity meant a great deal to me.
I was part of a juvenile gang that got into difficulty with the law, in the sense of increasingly violent pranks, drinking and so forth. It was a relief when I went to a liberal prep school where students were given a great deal of responsibility for their own governance. Despite all my acting out at my public school, I responded very well in that kind of environment, and got excellent grades, because we were respected as people, which is something I had lacked prior to that. Then, in my first year at Harvard, I read Walden by Henry David Thoreau and I was inspired to leave Harvard for the woods of Vermont. I stayed in a small one-room cabin and read, wrote poetry, walked a lot, dreamt out my recurrent trapped dreams, and I believe at that point, began finding my own integrity. And I kept returning to that kind of life.
I was inspired by Herman Melville’s novel Typee, which is set in the Marquesas, north of Tahiti near the equator, and Somerset Maugham’s The Moon and Sixpence about the artist Paul Gauguin, who painted in the South Seas. It was 1960 and when Vermont got too cold for the wood heater, I went to the woods in Rhode Island. When that got too cold, I shipped out of New York as a passenger on a freighter to Tahiti. I had gotten used to meditating in Vermont on the lake that was down below, and by gazing off into space. On the freighter I would lie on my back and stare upward, filling my mind with the blueness of the sky. The Pacific Ocean was clean and tremendously calm and I filled my mind with that. I didn’t have a visa for Tahiti and after a while some official noticed this and asked me to leave. I used all but my last $15 to take a seaplane to Hawaii. It was nuts, but it was a search for my own integrity.
You were among the earliest scholars to show respect for Eastern scholars, and acknowledge what you learned from them, rather than claiming that you knew more than your “native informants.” Where did your intellectual honesty come from?
This was related to my attitude of searching. Why would I pretend that what l learned from a Tibetan scholar was something I put together myself? Why would I treat these people as somehow different from myself? I thought it was very important, extremely important, to treat every Tibetan scholar fairly, to give them credit for their part in producing any book. I was criticized for this by other professors in my own field. But it just made more sense to have, say, Lati Rinpoche, be a co-author, than to footnote everything he said. In time, people came to understand what collaboration meant. The old saying of “East is East and West is West” doesn’t carry over to how you treat people on the title page of a book.
Photo courtesy of Donna L. Brown.
By making clear what came from others, you revealed that the Western scholar wasn’t always the final expert. Did other academics criticize you for that?
Yes, they did, and I just chose to ignore it. I spoke recently at the Tsadra Translation & Transmission Conference about singing my own song, and what I meant is that certain priorities needed to be righted, and we would right them by how we acted and what we did. It means acknowledging the help you receive and the roles others play, and if those roles are prominent enough, then the person deserves equal billing as the author or the translator. If I couldn’t have understood the text without somebody informing me of its meaning, then that person has played an equal role in its translation even if they don’t know English, because I couldn’t have translated it otherwise. Not to mention the person’s contribution to the footnotes or the explanation that goes along with the translation. This approach has come to be generally accepted. And then also I wanted to point out that many of the academic concerns that Tibetan and Mongolian scholars have are similar to ours. Both sides can learn from the other, though I don’t like talking about sides. I think we are all more or less in the same soup.
Sometimes in Dharma centers people avoid sharing their real views or feelings. This helps maintain harmony, but at a price. It makes me wonder about the balance between building community and nourishing the individual.
I would compare it to when I started in academia. At that time, there was a lot of shouting among scholars. I thought it had a lot to do with how little we knew about the subjects we were talking about. And I had to admit that of myself also. I was so egregiously, embarrassingly ignorant on many of these topics. I could see how I could stumble into trying to cover up my ignorance by shouting or making a big fuss over something I knew that somebody else didn’t know. And then I tried very hard to avoid doing that, and to create an atmosphere in which I was not doing this. I think as this profession and its members have become more educated, there’s been less need to yell at each other, and this may be true in Dharma centers also. I’ve found in the two translation conferences I’ve been to, and many of these translators are members of Dharma communities, that we have no need at all to shout at each other or show off what we know because we are deeply impressed by what we don’t know. We are really happy to hear about these topics from our colleagues and friends who do know something about them. Then it’s easy to get along.
A community’s insistence on people toeing a line may have a lot to do with being neophytes. And the number of times that neophytes repeat the name of their organization or their lama really strikes me as a sign of weakness. Let’s just stop doing that. Still, within the monastic community, there are rules. Outside of the community, you don’t say nasty things about the community, because that disrupts the image of the community, and spreads gossip and so forth. But that implies that there can be criticism within the community. You’ve got to air differences and so forth. You should. But you can’t be arguing all the time, or sharing everything you think. Nevertheless, a healthy community has to have some way of airing what’s going on. You can’t be covering up all the time because it will explode, and the disharmony that will result from that is not going to be helpful.
On a personal level, I try to make the chance of hypocrisy less by admitting in public some of the things that I’m up to. For example, I gave a talk in a city recently and I was really surprised when the people there gave me some money, in envelopes, afterwards. But then also, at the same time, I was very greedy about that money. I kept wondering how much was in each envelope. And I was very careful to put those envelopes down beside me (laughs) so that nobody would walk off with any of them. And I mentioned it to my host afterwards, admitting how greedy I was about it. I try to make this a habit. I don’t make up stuff to disclose, because there’s plenty of it without making anything up. I may not disclose everything, but at least a whole lot of it. Disclosing it relieves tension, whereas hiding is really counter-productive, because when you hide, you have to simulate the opposite – and, wow, you just get into trouble. I get into trouble!
Professor Jeffrey Hopkins, Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, United States, September 2011. Photo by Marc Sakamoto.
Is this an aspect of the path? Does not being open reduce energy available for practice?
I think that’s very, very true. Energy is wasted by hiding, and what you are hiding gets worse and worse the more you hide it. It’s self-destructive. You know, sometimes when I talk about morality, I’ll just say, “I’m embarrassed about what I am saying, but in any case, I’m trying to present what the books teach as it’s written, and I’m not claiming that I can actually enact this, I want to be clear.” That makes it a lot easier to talk about it. If it’s compassion and the fact that I get angry in certain situations, then it’s easy for me to talk about what I get angry at and use that as an example. Being frank about myself undermines my own negative reactions.
But we have to be judicious about what we say. We can’t be stupidly open. It’s not easy.
Buddhadharma focused its Winter 2014 issue on abuses of power in Dharma communities. One theme was “no more secrets,” because abuses flourish when people deny, cover up, or ostracize those who speak out. What are your thoughts on this?
I’m not an active member of any group. I’m a member of groups, but from a distance, which gives me a certain safety valve. I don’t give any quarter to lamas and so forth who act contrary to moral codes. To me that’s simply improper. If I’m asked about that person, I just say what I’ve heard, I don’t cover up, or at least I hope I don’t. I’m open about what I’ve heard and I’ll say, “Beware.” Covering up or pretending that seemingly ill behavior is the way great lamas behave – I’m just not going to say that. I think that’s simply wrong.
You have mentioned that your relationship with His Holiness the Dalai Lama is very frank. How open should we be with our lamas?
It depends on what the lama can stand! The lama may not want to hear about it. And then what can you do? You may have to go find some other lama, if that’s what you need. Like with anyone, your friends for example, there are certain subjects that some people don’t want to hear about. Even your closest friend may not want to hear about your stomach troubles. So you don’t talk about it. And how much can anyone stand to hear about your sex life? Or your health problems? Even if you’re at death’s door, five minutes is the max. It’s a bore. You shouldn’t expect more than that.
Westerners seem to value openness more than Tibetans. Is there a cultural difference?
I don’t think Tibetans are different from us. Maybe they are getting away with being secretive about how they are running things here (laughs). They are just getting away with pretending that this is the way that they do it. Tibetans among themselves give each other a hard time. They hold each other to account. Whereas some of them come over here and act as if they are kings or queens. They’ll do whatever they can get away with. You don’t have to let them.
Some Westerners, like you, say they have past life memories. While this may come from a desire to be special, there must be some who really were practitioners in the past. Should people be open about memories if they have them? What about the narcissism factor?
I was faced with this during the five years I was at Geshe Wangyal’s monastery in New Jersey in the early 1960s. People would come to visit and talk about their past lives. They were usually princes and princesses. I was looking forward to the day when someone would come and say they were a garbage collector. It’s something that kept me from telling my own story because I didn’t want to be put in the category that I was putting these people in, which has to do with their own aggrandizing imaginations. With myself, I felt what memories I had were rather ordinary. I had to inspect those few memories to figure out what my so-called status was. I didn’t feel glorious. I had to deduce from a few pieces of information what my status might have been. It took a long time for that to come through. I’m suspicious of people who remember themselves as having been very glorious.
Still, I stay neutral on whether people should talk about memories. Although I’m suspicious, I’m not going to put it down. I know in my case that these are actual memories, so I know that does occur. But I wouldn’t blame anyone for being highly suspicious if I told my own story in any detail. They might think, “The guy’s a nut!” I’ve had that kind of thought with respect to others. But some people have related their stories to me, and their memories are not self-glorifying. I don’t have any reason to question them. I do accept for sure that people remember.
Dr. Ian Stevenson of the University of Virginia looked into a lot of reincarnation stories, and checked some against facts he could track down. One of the points that he made was that quite a number of people remembered their past lives because they died in the midst of violence. It was quite often not a case of great spiritual attainment, but that there was some violence that impressed on them what was going on, and that caused the memory.
Canadian tulku Elijah Ary has been open since childhood about his past life memories and went through a lot of difficulties.
I know Elijah Ary. I find his story quite poignant. He and I had quite opposite trails. He has been open throughout and I’ve been closed throughout. I actually forgot it for quite a while and then even after I remembered, it was decades later that I was willing to talk about it at all except with a couple of people. It’s been quite a journey for him, and I really respect what he’s had to go through to be this open. He paid a huge price. For me, coming out as gay was a big step at the time I did it, but coming out as remembering your past life, as far as I’m concerned, is much larger than that.
Professor Jeffrey Hopkins, Maitripa College, Portland, Oregon, United States, September 2011. Photo by Marc Sakamoto.
What does it really tell us if someone has past life memories? Does that make them special now?
I think that Dr. Ian Stevenson’s story about people remembering because they died in the midst of violence indicates that it doesn’t automatically make you special. What will make you special is what you do in this lifetime. If you think about it, that is true of anybody, recognized or not.
Liushar Thupten Tharpa, who was the equivalent of foreign minister in the old government of Tibet, went out to greet His Holiness the Dalai Lama when he first came to Lhasa; Liushar told me he was watching the little child to see if this was the right one. But he didn’t come to any conclusion then whether this was the right or the wrong child. Later he was this Dalai Lama’s representative in New York, after which he came to our monastery in New Jersey, and then stayed on in the USA as a permanent resident. Then the Dalai Lama called him back to Dharamsala. There were a number of years during which Liushar had not seen this Dalai Lama in action on the home front, although he had visited India for important events. Anyway, after he went back to India, I saw him. He said, “Do you know what he is doing?” and he recounted to me how busy this Dalai Lama was conducting ordination ceremonies, teaching, giving initiations, all of the many things he was doing. And he said, “Now we can say he is the incarnation of Avalokiteshvara.” You see? By way of his actions! That question about whether there were signs that he was the last Dalai Lama was totally wiped out. It didn’t matter. His Holiness’ actions were sufficient. Whether he was or not didn’t make any difference because in his waking day he was endlessly performing these actions.
While you are open about many things, you also choose to keep certain things private, such as your own attainments, and ways you’ve helped others – for example, with their books or academic work.
There’s a tradition about not being open about your own attainments and your own deeper experiences, and I don’t even tell my friends. It’s out of the question, I feel, that I’m going to talk about these things. As for helping others, it’s important to do – and keep quiet.
Any final thoughts on honesty?
If honesty became one’s only watchword, one could become a pain in the ass, and narcissistic, and a total bore. I hope by giving an interview like this, pretending to be honest, I don’t create a trap for myself! That I would become infatuated with this – really. And start deliberately acting this way, thinking, “I’ve got to be honest! I’ve got to find something to be honest about!” And turning myself into not just a 25- or 50-percent jerk but a 75- or 90-percent jerk (laughs). Warn me if I do. Tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hey Jeffrey, you are turning into a 100-percent jerk.”
We are basically incapable of saying who we are, and when we start doing that, we really have to be careful, because we aren’t going to be right. There may be some grain of truth – but also some grain of foppishness. I’m trying. I’m still trying to find my own integrity.
“Jeffrey Hopkins’ Transmission of Honesty” was produced as an online feature by Mandala Publications, and is supported, in part, by programs like Friends of FPMT.
Donna Lynn Brown is a regular Mandala contributor and a student at Maitripa College in Portland, Oregon, US.