El miedo como herramienta

All buildings that are constructed are bound to collapse. Cities and monasteries that were previously prosperous and extensive are empty and abandoned. Where formerly their careful owners lived, birds and mice now make their nests. Thus, even the three story central temple at Samye, constructed by miraculously emanated builders during the reign of King Trisong Detsen and consecrated

by the Second Buddha of Orgyen, was destroyed by fire in a single night. The Red Mountain Palace of the Dharma King Songtsen Gampo rivaled the Mansion of Complete Victory on the summit of Mt. Meru, but now not even a foundation stone remains. What is the point then of cherishing our own cities, houses and monasteries, which are just like insects’ nests?

Whatever is constructed is impermanent; eventually all buildings fall to pieces. Developed cities are considered successful; flourishing monasteries have growing numbers of temples and dormitories. But one day, these too will collapse, and we will find only ruins in a once prosperous region. Anything that is built is bound to fall apart until nothing but the name remains. Our towns and monasteries are petty and weak compared to the temples and palaces of King Trisong Detsen and King Songtsen Gampo. Why should we cling to them? Patrul Rinpoche recommends the way of the early Kagyu masters, and the four basic aims of the Kadampas:

Turn your back on your fatherland, Accept another’s homeland, Live at the base of a rocky cliff, Take wild animals as your companions,

Abandon concern for food, clothing or renown. Root your mind in the Dharma,

Root your Dharma in humility,

Root your humility in the thought of death, Root your death in an empty valley.

From the bottom of your heart, think that you must accomplish these four roots of final liberation of the Kadampa elders.

Kagyu masters of old left home for solitary places with no companionship, and aimed to die alone in remote areas with no disturbances. We should likewise focus on the sublime Dharma rather than the eight worldly concerns. While practicing, we should strive to sacrifice money, wealth and prosperity to embrace the life of a mendicant who has abandoned all worldly activities. A yogi’s mind should always be focused upon death, and while mindful of death, a practitioner should stay in empty places, caves or solitary mountains. Kagyu and Kadampa masters practiced like this in the past and attained high levels of accomplishment. Following their example, we must vow from the core of our hearts to accomplish our practice perfectly.

a mind detached from worldly phenomena will spontaneously arise, and you will feel ready to let go of the good things of life. This mere experience, however, is not enough for complete renunciation. This is an incomplete mind of renunciation, as weak as a hair. When such a feeling wells up within you, do not immediately act on it and leave all worldly things behind; you may not be perfectly resolute. On the other hand, if even after careful consideration you repeatedly have strong thoughts of renunciation, you can act accordingly since your mind is resolved. Strong resolve will enable you to accomplish your Dharma practice perfectly. People often experience the wish to abandon the world when hearing teachings on the four thoughts that turn the mind toward Dharma. Acting too quickly and forsaking the world without a firm resolution, one’s mind can change after a while and attachment to worldly things can grow greater than before. To achieve complete renunciation, always contemplate deeply on practicing Dharma one-pointedly.

People with high positions and courageous powerful leaders also do not last forever. Impermanence even results in the rulers of nations sometimes being prosecuted and sent to prison. Maintaining a powerful position is never certain. Warriors with mighty armies that can destroy their opponents are impermanent as well; ultimately they may be attacked and killed. Patrul Rinpoche mentions the universal king Mandhatri, who not only had power over humans living in the desire realm, but because of his past good karma even reigned over the gods. Asuras – the demi-gods – are always fighting the gods and each other, and he could even defeat them. Mandhatri’s karma gave him the temporary power that won him his achievements. Yet his attainments were impermanent, and ultimately he fell to earth and died without satisfying his ambitions. No one with power and authority can maintain this position forever, so what is the use of such transitory power? Worldly position and power are neither stable nor permanent. Only the state of enlightenment is beyond being diminished or spoiled. Therefore, Patrul Rinpoche exhorts us:

Determine that you must accomplish the state of perfect buddhahood, which can never degenerate or decay, and is worshipped by all sentient beings, including the gods.

Enemies are also impermanent; no single enemy can harm you throughout all your rebirths. An enemy now could later become a friend. Circumstances can cause current relatives and friends to become enemies. Patrul Rinpoche tells a story about this:

One day while on his alms-round Arhat Katyayana encountered a householder with a child on his lap. The man was happily eating a fish and throwing stones at a female dog that was trying to reach the bones. Wondering about the karmic cause of all this, Katyayana saw with his clairvoyance that the fish the man was eating had been his own father in that very lifetime, and the bitch had been his mother. An enemy he had killed in a past life was reborn as his son, to pay the karmic debt for the life he had taken. Katyayana cried out:

Eating his father’s flesh, he beats his mother And holds on his lap an enemy that he killed. A wife chews upon her husband’s bones. I laugh to see samsara’s show.

Since samsaric phenomena have no stability, firmness or essence, friends and enemies are never permanent. Without clairvoyance to identify the rebirths of our parents, relatives and friends after they pass away, we cannot even know whether our parents have been reborn as our enemies. We should therefore avoid having too much attachment toward those we love and too much aversion toward those who harm us. We should not nourish intense anger and enmity toward our adversaries. Friends now will not always be friends, and enemies will not be enemies forever. We can see this within our own lives.

Even in a single lifetime, sworn enemies can become amiable friends. They could become close relatives, even more compatible than others. Parents and siblings, on the other hand, may harm each other out of ill feeling over some minor possessions. Husbands and wives or intimate friends can separate over unimportant matters, and even kill each other. Since friendship and enmity are totally impermanent, remember again and again to care for everyone with love and compassion.

Attached to friends and averse to enemies, we do not presently consider everyone equal. Enemies are not everlasting, however, so we should never harbor bad feelings toward them; nor should we cling too strongly to our friends, as they also do not last. Aim to consider that every sentient being has been your parent. Look at all beings as friends and relatives and cultivate love and compassion for all, including those who cause you harm. Patrul Rinpoche continues:

Both joyful times and situations of suffering are impermanent. Many begin life with good fortune and happiness, and later on experience

poverty and difficulties. Others begin in suffering and end with well- being. Some have begun life as paupers and later become kings. Many such reversals of fortune have occurred, as with Milarepa’s aunt and uncle, who hosted a happy feast for their daughter-in-law in the morning, while later that day their house fell to pieces, bringing on sorrowful wailing.

When Dharma brings hardships, no matter what kinds of suffering you might have to undergo, like Jetsun Mila and the victorious ones of the past, in the end, your happiness will be unmatched.

Dharma practitioners often undergo many hardships in the early part of their lives, but later experience happiness and bliss. They will be content at the time of death, in the intermediate state and in their next lives. Their happiness can keep increasing, while for worldly people, joy and misery change constantly. Someone beginning to study and practice will often undergo difficulties, but satisfaction comes later. Practitioners are happier later in life than earlier, and happier still at the time of death. Greater joy is found in the intermediate state and the happiness of the next life is even superior to that. The victorious ones of the past bore unthinkable misery to practice Dharma. Milarepa, for one, underwent enormous physical hardships at Lhodrag Marpa’s place. Later he attained a high level of accomplishment, however, and achieved ultimate happiness. Despite facing many initial difficulties, when practitioners experience the fruit of Dharma, they attain the ultimate bliss and become content.

On the other hand, Patrul Rinpoche warns:

While the luxuries gained by nonvirtue might bring temporary contentment, in the end this will lead to nothing but limitless suffering.

People may gain pleasure early in their lives from wealth gained by nonvirtuous means, but material goods can be used up and suffering results when the assets are exhausted. In addition, the nonvirtue committed to amass a fortune also ripens, bringing more misery. Happiness can never be achieved through improperly gathered riches. In this world no wealth is ever accumulated without some nonvirtue but the seriousness of the unwholesome actions committed to prosper differs. While butchers slaughter animals to make money, people in business employ various tricks to deceive others and increase their profits. If the wealth accumulated by nonvirtue, hardship and abuse is used for virtuous purposes such as donations to the poor and destitute or offerings to the Three Jewels, this both helps you and

also benefits others who connect with your good actions. Otherwise, even though you enjoy your wealth while you are young, ultimately you will attain not happiness but only infinite torment. Patrul Rinpoche relates the following story as an example:

Fortune and sorrow are totally unpredictable. Long ago in the kingdom of Aparantaka there came first a rain of grain lasting seven days. After that clothing rained down for another seven days and then a rain of precious jewels fell for seven days more. Finally a rain of earth fell, burying everyone. After death, the inhabitants were reborn in the lower realms. Thus are happiness and suffering impermanent.

Virtuous actions brought the first beneficial rains, but the final rain of earth resulted from accumulated nonvirtue. Material well-being is the fruit of generosity, a virtue. When wealth is being amassed, however, many unwholesome actions are used to increase it. Genuine good fortune comes from past generosity, but in this life acquiring riches requires that one engage in considerable nonvirtue, which brings nothing but infinite suffering. In Aparantaka, after the fruit of past good actions had ripened in rains of grain, clothing and precious jewels, past bad actions brought in a rain of earth that killed everyone. Prosperity is uncertain. Therefore, we should leave behind our attachment to this life’s happiness.

Without clinging to hope and fear about impermanent happiness and suffering, and without trying to control it, leave behind the comfort, happiness and well-being of this life like a droplet of spit.

Avoid attachment to happiness because it is transitory. Experiencing happiness early in life means you will experience unhappiness later. Although you were joyful last year, this year you suffer. If you had a good time last month, this month you will be miserable. Some individuals become very proud, thinking that the contentment they experience is beyond change and impermanence. In fact, happiness is never permanent or stable. People experiencing difficulties feel this is inappropriate and are bitterly disappointed. Do not think like this; misery is also impermanent. One who is sad early in life later experiences joy. If you suffered last year, this year will be better. Neither misery nor contentment is ever stable. Never grasp at them as permanent; do not be too hopeful of pleasure or fearful of pain. Clinging to happiness leads to unbearable torment when the happiness ends and suffering arises. If we avoid too much attachment to good fortune, we will be less upset by change and will suffer less when our well-being ends. Have no more attachment to worldly prosperity than to the spit in your

mouth. Contemplate its impermanent and essenceless nature and be able to let it go at any point.