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Trials
and Tribulations of Spiritual Experience
by
the Venerable
Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche
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From
a talk given at the Buddhist Summer School, Melbourne, 2003
Born in Eastern Tibet in 1955, the Venerable Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche
was recognised as the ninth of the Traleg lineage and enthroned
as Abbot of Thrangu Monastery. Rinpoche came to Australia in 1980
and established the Kagyu E-Vam Buddhist Institute in 1982 and has
recently established E-Vam Institute in Hudson, upstate New York.
He regularly conducts courses and retreats and travels extensively
in Europe and the United States giving lectures and seminars on
Buddhism.
In Buddhism, the notion of a 'path' (lam
in Tibetan, or marga in Sanskrit)
is emphasised in many different contexts, in relation to one's spiritual
development. There are Tibetan texts, for example, that describe
pilgrimage spots and sacred places in relation to one's own body
and the various levels of spiritual development, as sign-posts corresponding
to our inner spiritual development. We cannot discuss anything about
Buddhism without bringing up the notion of marga
or path. This path is called tharlam
in Tibetan, which means 'path of liberation,' while the biography
about someone who has embarked on the path is called nam
tar, which means 'an account of the process of liberation'
that someone has undertaken. In other words, a spiritual biography
is a description of how that particular individual travelled on
the path.
When we talk about the path in this way, the spiritual practitioner
is compared to a traveller; to a pilgrim. When we go on a pilgrimage,
we become a traveller, and encounter many different kinds of things.
We have to leave our familiar world behind and venture forth into
unknown, uncharted territory. We may have read something about the
places that we want to visit or we may have heard stories about
these places, but we ourselves have never actually been there. Similarly,
in terms of the spiritual journey, until we have embarked on the
path we can never really know where we are going, even if we have
learnt all about it from reading books or listening to teachings,
et cetera. We will still remain very much rooted in our own whole
environment.
When we embark on any kind of journey, we really
do not know a great deal about where we are going. We may have some
idea but we do not know anything for certain. The element of uncertainty
is what characterises a journey, for it is the element of the unknown.
The familiar world in which we live is called 'cyclic existence'
(samsara) in Buddhism, which
means that we continually go around in existence is a state of uncertainty.
As long as we live in this world, we have a false sense of security
from the fact that everything seems familiar to us. However, as
soon as we embark on a spiritual journey, we are thrust into a world
that is no longer familiar to us, just like a true traveller. The
only thing that one can rely on then are the guidebooks and travel
books. In the case of a spiritual journey, we read the life-stories
or hagiographies of the saints and various texts that describe the
different spiritual experiences that one might have, but all of
these things are new and remote to us.
On the other hand, the impulse to embark on the
spiritual journey in the first place is because, even though we
have been living in a familiar world that is secure to a degree
- even if that security is only illusory - we do not feel at home.
We feel that we do not really belong to that world, that there is
another world that has to be explored. This journey has to be taken,
even though it does involve risks, even though it involves confronting
many of life's issues, both good and bad, and enduring many kinds
of learning experiences.
This is what the traveller
is confronted with at the beginning. We do not feel at home in this
familiar environment because we have some sense that the life we
are living and the world that we are immersed in, is not all that
it has been cracked up to be. We have seen through the facade, the
fakery, the deceptive nature and inauthenticity of everything that
is going on in that world.
At the beginning of all the texts that describe
the spiritual journey, the individual is said to have an overwhelming
sense of having been duped, of having squandered his or her opportunities
and engaged in various forms of thought and action which are not
good; which are, in fact, a source of shame. There may be a great
many feelings of guilt and shame. A combination of these experiences
is what propels the individual towards embarking on the spiritual
journey. The individual wants to turn his or her life around. To
do so, he or she has to leave the corrupting influences of the world
behind.
We see this in almost all the world's spiritual
treatises describing the spiritual journey. If there were no sense
of seeing through what is illusory - of seeing through the deceptive
nature of the familiar world and of being able to truly realise
through a process of self-reflection that one's life has been a
sham - it would not be a genuine journey. It would not be a journey
that is true to oneself and true to others, because a life lived
in a very authentic way is what propels the individual forward.
Once one is thrust into the unknown there will
be a sense of uncertainty, which of course is also a source of great
trepidation and anxiety. When we travel to Asia or other foreign
countries where the spoken language is different to our own and
where people have different customs and a different way of life,
it is a shocking and disorientating experience. It is said that
people get 'culture shock.' Similarly, when one embarks on the spiritual
journey, it will not necessarily be a journey that is smooth and
where everything goes well. When we talk about 'everything going
well,' we mean this only in a relative sense, because from a higher
perspective even a journey with difficulties is a journey worth
taking and a journey that is good.
Nonetheless, it can become very disorientating
and the cause of a great sense of anxiety. One is also trying to
detach oneself from everything that is familiar and has to exercise
some kind of resistance so that one does not fall back into temptations,
into old ways of being. This in itself is difficult, because the
temptation may be there even if the old way of life is disingenuous
and full of deception. The old ways are still very familiar to us,
so the temptation to run back to them will always be there. One
is therefore still burdened with the task of having to disassociate
from that by renouncing the concerns and affairs of the world. One
has to become a recluse, either in reality or in a metaphorical
sense. I say 'metaphorical,' because even without leaving the world
as such, one can detach oneself from all that is worldly on a mental
level. Cutting our attachment to things, in other words, is a form
of renunciation.
However, trying to renounce familiar ways and worldly
things is not, in itself, sufficient for a real spiritual journey.
While trying to resist the urge to suffer a relapse to our old ways
of being and maintain our forward momentum, we must also engage
in what are known as 'purification practices.' To put it in Christian
terms, these are purgative practices that one employs in order to
feel redeemed, to feel that one has become a worthy spiritual traveller.
In order to feel purified, we have to engage in
certain rigorous spiritual disciplines and ascetic practices. Periods
of isolation, meditation retreats, living in solitude, spending
time in the wilderness, fasting and so forth are undertaken in the
spiritual traditions of both west and east. If one were to just
simply say, 'I am a transformed person and now I am a worthy spiritual
traveller,' it would not have any real power to effect change. On
the other hand, if one puts one's mind and body through a rigorous
process of discipline, this in itself will produce all kinds of
new and transformative experiences. As one begins to travel further
on the path, these disciplines will bring about unusual or what
you might call 'mind altering' experiences. These are experienced
in a totally different way to our normal everyday experiences because
we are not familiar with them at all.
It is said in the spiritual
texts that when one engages in practises where one's body and mind
are put through various forms of privation, one may experience all
kinds of quasi-illusory experiences, like hallucination, or one
may think that one is experiencing a visitation of angels, or evil
spirits, or gods or goddesses and so forth. There are many mind-altering
experiences that one may be subject to, which is again quite unsettling
for the ego.
Our perception of our normal,
conventional 'self' is based upon what we are familiar with. When
this self is put to the test, the ego has unbelievably overwhelming
responses, in some cases quite terrifying or awe-inspiring. The
normal ego is not equipped to deal with these and can experience
them as very threatening - as something that engulfs one's idea
of oneself - and may become completely carried away by then. At
other times, some of these experiences may bring extreme ecstasy
and a sense of bliss. It is not uncommon for even non-practitioners
who go into the wilderness to have experiences like this, as has
been reported by mountaineers or people going into the outback.
People have often reported feeling this total sense of well-being,
in such circumstances.
In any case, all of these experiences have to be
dealt with. According to the spiritual literature, the way that
these overwhelming experiences are to be handled is by not focusing
on the 'self.' Not thinking, 'This is me, I am going mad, I am losing
my mind, experiencing this and that.' It is emphasised in all kinds
of spiritual teachings that if the mind is thinking, 'I am the one
who is having this or that experience,' and becoming overly concerned
about what is being experienced, it may exacerbate one's feeling
of anxiety, or feeling that one is going to have a mental breakdown.
It is also recorded in this literature that some individuals did
have breakdowns. This comes from being overly concerned about the
self.
Our focus then, has to be turned outward to something
other than the self. In Buddhism, for instance, one has to focus
one's attention on the reality of things and seeing that everything
that one is experiencing arises from that reality.
What is happening here is quite peculiar, because
on the one hand one is trying not to focus on the self, while on
the other one has to learn to strengthen one's self, so that one
is able to endure the variegated experiences that arise from doing
these rigorous practices. This process is part of disassociating
oneself from a fixation on worldly things, or as it is said in Christian
teachings, on 'created things.'
With this practice, according to Buddhism, the
self becomes transformed. Self-transformation is a key part of the
spiritual journey. As one travels on the path, one is transformed
simply from encountering all kinds of experiences and exploring
new things. As I said before, even a normal traveller who goes to
a foreign country can experience identity crises. However, if one
persists with the journey and develops more curiosity about things
- instead of trying to shut one's mind to all the stimuli, trying
to understand all the new sights and sounds, people and customs
and new ways of doing things - one will automatically be transformed
from having taken these things on board. Spiritual practice is similarly
transformative. This transformation is achieved simply through trying
to embrace these experiences even if they appear overwhelming and
threatening to the self. The key to this transformation comes from
how we approach these new experiences. If we focus singularly upon
the self and its well-being, our feelings of vulnerability and weakness
will only increases and we might become completely overwhelmed.
If, instead, we focus on where these experiences are coming from,
the self becomes rejuvenated and strengthened.
The beginning is always the most difficult part
of any kind of journey, as we know. If we have never gone anywhere
before, the first few weeks, months or even year or two, are the
most difficult time. However, the more time that we spend away from
home, the easier it becomes. It is similar with spiritual practice,
because after we have moved through the difficult early period,
we come to another level of experiencing things.
This next level first consists of the elimination
and assimilation of various - for want of a better expression -
'mental states.' At this point, the spiritual journey is about learning
how to overcome certain ingrained and well-entrenched feelings,
thoughts and emotions and assimilating other forms of feelings,
thoughts and emotions. People often have this notion that a spiritual
person has less and less experiences on the spiritual journey, so
that the emotional, cognitive and effective domains become narrowed
and simplified. However, in many ways, spiritual experiences actually
expand the parameters of human existence, because the spiritual
journey opens up our minds to whole new dimensions, to whole new
ways of being. We experience many things that we would never normally
undergo as a result of engaging in spiritual practices.
The spiritual journey enriches everything that
we experience. Everything becomes meaningful, so that all of our
experiences aid us in our growth. Normally, our experiences do not
enrich us. Even our good experiences are not particularly illuminative
in the long run. However, things that we experience on the spiritual
path are often profoundly moving, and thus become life-enhancing
experiences.
In other words, spiritual experiences broaden human
experience rather than narrowing it. According to the Buddhist teachings,
even our senses become more alert. Again we can understand this,
because even people who spend time in solitude - in the woods or
deserts or mountains such as the Himalayas - report that their senses
become more acute and alert. Our senses are not normally alert.
We can therefore imagine that if people who spend time in the wilderness
have this experience, then people who spend time in the wilderness
as part of spiritual practice would have experiences that are even
more amazing and life-transforming in the long run. This is why
many of the saints, for want of a better word, in both the east
and the west, have spent significant amounts of time engaging in
vigorous mental disciplines in the wilderness.
Gradually then, there is this notion of elimination
and assimilation as part of the spiritual journey. One can then
develop courage, strength, wisdom and mental focus and overcome
the corresponding states of weakness, cowardice, ignorance and distracted
mind. Eventually, the spiritual traveller comes to a point where
he or she realises that there is a need for another form of renunciation.
This is actually the renunciation of spiritual things themselves.
For turning one's mind away from a fixation on worldly things and
instead focusing on spiritual things can lead to one becoming attached
to these spiritual things.
To use a Christian example, in his Dark
Night of the Soul, St John of the Cross talks about how spiritual
people can be just as mean as worldly people. They are not so much
mean about material things, but about spiritual things. They squabble
and fight over their spirituality, become envious of other people's
spiritual attainments and very possessive and proud about their
own attainments and realisations. In this way, spiritual experiences
also become a source of trouble. This is mentioned in Buddhist teachings
also, in many different contexts. Buddhist material emphasises not
getting attached to spiritual things, because even spiritual things
can become demonic in the sense that they can feed one's egoistic
needs. Spiritual practitioners can start puffing themselves up over
how much spiritual practice they have done and treating spiritual
experiences as something that one possesses. It is important to
be reminded that spiritual things have to become part of oneself;
they are not something that one carries around.
So, renunciation of spiritual things is the next
step. Instead of thinking, 'I have more wisdom than someone else,'
one has to appropriate these spiritual experiences and take them
on board. Spiritual attributes and qualities must become features
of one's own make-up, one's own personality and character traits.
As one progresses on the path one begins to realise
that the spiritual journey has many destinations. This journey is
not like climbing a mountain where one automatically sets out to
reach the peak. It consists of many peaks and valleys. There are
periods of highs and periods of lows. Nonetheless, steady progress
can be made, which is not at all unlike our normal experiences of
travelling abroad. The sum total of our experiences contributes
towards reaching our goal, but within that there are many other
goals that we might aim towards. Just as when we are travelling,
if it is Everest that we want to reach there may be other areas
in Everest's vicinity that we want to explore. Similarly with the
spiritual journey, there are many goals that one has to attain and
each of these goals aids us in reaching our final goal, which in
Buddhism, is to become an awakened being.
As the traveller begins to accumulate more and
more knowledge and experience, many of the things that he or she
had to learn at the beginning now have to be renounced so that they
do not become an extra burden to carry around. This is why renunciation
of spiritual things is emphasised. One also has to renounce conceptual
understanding, which means that as the spiritual traveller advances
on the path he or she must not get swayed by thoughts of good and
bad, spiritual and material, worldly versus other-worldly, samsara
and nirvana, spiritual attainment verses non-spiritual attainment
and so on. One can let go of these concepts, because as one begins
to progress on the path, one experiences the transcendental realm
where there is no need to conceptualise about either the finite
world or the reality-as-such.
Ultimate reality and the spiritual experiences
that allow us to go from the 'unknowing of ignorance' to the 'knowing
of wisdom' are based upon direct experience. Conceptual understanding,
on the other hand, is based on inference. We have an inferential
understanding of ultimate reality but we do not have direct experience
of it. When we have direct experience of ultimate reality, we cannot
conceptualise it, we cannot express it through linguistic means.
In Buddhism, it is said, 'Seeing that which cannot be seen is the
ultimate seeing.' In other words, 'to know' is only to know something
in terms of our own understanding. However, our understanding has
to lead to realisation, which means going beyond our own understanding.
Realisation is about seeing the ultimate reality in all things and
seeing all things in ultimate reality. One no longer has to make
a distinction between the world which one had to renounce and the
transcendental realm which one has been trying to enter into.
This is only a general description of what the
notion of spiritual 'path' means from the point of view of a practitioner,
rather than in terms of how the paths and stages are described in
the texts. If you look at the life-stories of the Buddhist saints
you will see this process. The life of Milarepa, the famous poet-saint
of Tibet, describes this process very clearly. From how he renounced
the world to how he attained realisation.
As long as we are practising, there is always a
journey involved. With this journey comes many different kinds of
experience, which we have to deal with. These experiences are not
always pleasant, not always comforting, and may be very challenging,
disruptive and threatening. If we are able to deal with any one
of those, we will become that much stronger and more spiritually
mature. According to the Buddhist way of thinking, every obstacle
that we encounter has to be regarded as necessary for one's growth.
They are not really obstacles, in other words. Without them, we
will not mature, we will forever remain naïve and very immature.
It is only because of these different experiences in life generally,
but particularly in spiritual practice, that we are able to become
transformed. In spiritual practice our experience increase rather
than decrease; they only become more vivid and more powerful. It
is by being able to deal with them as they arise that we are able
to become transformed.
This self-transformation is a continuous process.
It is not a once-and-for-all kind of thing, where we can say, 'I
used to be a non-spiritual person, but now I have been transformed
into a spiritual person. I have been reborn. My old self is dead
and now I am a new person.' According to Buddhism, the individual
who is travelling on the path is constantly being reformed and transformed.
We are the same individual on one level, but on another level we
are a different individual. This is the Buddhist way of thinking.
There is continuity, but each time there is a major turning-point
in the course of one's journey, one has become transformed. One
has become a new person, transformed and reformed, because certain
habits have dropped away. Even without deliberately trying to get
rid of them, they have simply fallen to the wayside. They are no
longer a part of us or part of the particular individual on the
spiritual path; new things have become part of that individual instead.
As one goes further, some other parts fall to the wayside and other
things become part of oneself and so on. It is a continuous growth,
a continuous journey, which is why spiritual insights also have
to be continuous.
Everything is a dynamic process. We should
not get too fixated on the notion of spiritual states, because 'states'
imply some kind of fixity, some kind of place that one arrives at.
The notion of passivity is also attached to that. The spiritual
journey - spiritual experiences and practices and states - are dynamic
and therefore tend forward. The present always tends towards the
future, it always portends a forward movement. We are never in any
kind of self-enclosed state.
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