REBIRTH AND KARMA
Our sleeping is like death, our dreaming is like the intermediate state and our waking up is like rebirth. The cycle of these three shows us the existence of future rebirth. Since some background knowledge of rebirth and karma is useful for understanding the main practices explained in this book, there now follows a brief introduction to these topics.
The mind is neither physical, nor a by-product of physical processes, but a formless continuum that is a separate entity from the body. When the body disintegrates at death, the mind does not cease. Although our superficial conscious mind ceases, it does so by dissolving into a deeper level of consciousness, called “the very subtle mind.” The continuum of our very subtle mind has no beginning and no end, and it is this mind which, when completely purified, transforms into the omniscient mind of a Buddha.
Every action we perform leaves an imprint, or potential, on our very subtle mind, and each karmic potential eventually gives rise to its own effect. Our mind is like a field, and performing actions is like sowing seeds in that field. Positive or virtuous actions sow the seeds of future happiness, and negative or non-virtuous actions sow the seeds of future suffering. This definite relationship between actions and their effects—virtue causing happiness and non-virtue causing suffering—is known as the “law of karma.” An understanding of the law of karma is the basis of Buddhist morality.
After we die our very subtle mind leaves our body and enters the intermediate state, or “bardo” in Tibetan. In this subtle dream-like state we experience many different visions that arise from the karmic potentials that were activated at the time of our death. These visions may be pleasant or terrifying depending on the karma that ripens. Once these karmic seeds have fully ripened they impel us to take rebirth without choice.
It is important to understand that as ordinary samsaric beings we do not choose our rebirth but are reborn solely in accordance with our karma. If good karma ripens we are reborn in a fortunate state, as either a human or a god, but if negative karma ripens we are reborn in a lower state, as an animal, a hungry spirit or a hell being. It is as if we were blown to our future lives by the winds of our karma, sometimes ending up in higher rebirths, sometimes in lower rebirths.
This uninterrupted cycle of death and rebirth without choice is called “cyclic existence,” or “samsara” in Sanskrit. Samsara is like a Ferris wheel, sometimes taking us up into the three fortunate realms, sometimes down into the three lower realms. The driving force of the wheel of samsara is our contaminated actions motivated by delusions, and the hub of the wheel is self-grasping ignorance. For as long as we remain on this wheel we will experience an unceasing cycle of suffering and dissatisfaction, and we will have no opportunity to experience pure, lasting happiness. By practicing the Buddhist path to liberation and enlightenment, however, we can destroy self-grasping, thereby liberating ourself from the cycle of uncontrolled rebirth and attaining a state of perfect peace and freedom. We will then be in a position to help others to do the same. A more detailed explanation of rebirth and karma can be found in the books Introduction to Buddhism and Joyful Path of Good Fortune.
Maitreya
Bodhisattva Langri Tangpa
The author of Eight Verses of Training the Mind is the Kadampa Buddhist Master, or Geshe, Bodhisattva Langri Tangpa. Reading about his life and good qualities will help us to develop faith in him and to appreciate the authenticity of Eight Verses, and this will strengthen our determination to put these instructions into practice.
Bodhisattva Langri Tangpa was born in central Tibet in the eleventh century AD. His actual name was Dorje Senge, but he became known as Langri Tangpa after Lang Tang, the area in which he lived. He was a disciple of Geshe Potowa, who was one of the principal disciples of the Buddhist Master Atisha, the founder of Kadampa Buddhism in Tibet.
Geshe Potowa was renowned throughout Tibet as a great scholar who showed an immaculate example to other practitioners, emphasizing the practice of bodhichitta, the altruistic mind of enlightenment. He wrote many profound scriptures of Kadampa Buddhism, in particular a text called The Scripture of Examples in which he used everyday experiences to illustrate the meaning of Dharma. In this text he recounted a story about a thief who had broken into a house, found a barrel of chang, or Tibetan beer, and proceeded to get drunk. The family was woken by his singing, “How happy I am to be drinking from the mouth of the barrel of chang, but how much more wonderful it would be if I were drinking from the bottom of the barrel!” Geshe Potowa used the thief’s song as a parable, changing the words to, “How happy we are to be practicing Dharma from the mouth, but how much more wonderful it would be if we were practicing it from the bottom of our hearts!” There was a saying in Tibet that Geshe Potowa’s disciples were as numerous as stars in the sky, and that his two principal disciples, Geshe Langri Tangpa and Geshe Sharawa, were like the sun and the moon.
Bodhisattva Langri Tangpa was widely respected throughout Tibet as a holy person, and was recognized by many great meditators as an emanation of Buddha Amitabha. Although others regarded him as special, he always behaved in a humble manner and viewed others as important and worthy of respect. Completely indifferent to wealth, status and other worldly attainments, for many years he was very poor, living almost like a beggar. Inwardly, however, he was engaged in the practice known as “accepting defeat and offering the victory to others”—happily accepting whatever difficulties and adverse conditions he encountered, and offering his happiness and good conditions to others. His willing acceptance of poverty and hardship was a good example to other spiritual practitioners.
Bodhisattva Langri Tangpa’s demeanor was very different from that of most people. We tend to be overly concerned that others like us, and so make a great effort to present a cheerful aspect, no matter how we feel inside. Langri Tangpa was the opposite. He maintained such a stern, unsmiling expression that he was nicknamed “Grim Face.” His assistant once said to him, “People are calling you ‘Grim Face.’ When they come to receive blessings from you, it would be good if you could smile sometimes and speak gently to them.” Langri Tangpa replied, “What you say is true, but I find it difficult to find anything in samsara to smile about. Whenever I see someone I think of their suffering, and instead of laughing I feel like crying.” It was due to his deep compassion for all living beings that Langri Tangpa found it difficult to smile. It is important not to misunderstand this. Langri Tangpa was not unhappy; his compassion and other spiritual realizations protected him from ever feeling depressed and caused him to experience great joy. However, he saw clearly that there is no true happiness in samsara, and that confusing worldly pleasure with real happiness serves only to bind us more tightly to samsara. His stern manner challenged people to confront their actual samsaric situation and to enter into spiritual paths.
Langri Tangpa rarely laughed, and when he did it was so unusual that his assistant made a note of it. On one occasion Langri Tangpa was meditating in a cave on a hillside overlooking a river. It was mid-winter and the river was completely iced over. A traveling potter was crossing the river, but laden with pots, he kept slipping and breaking them. As the potter knew that Langri Tangpa was somewhere up on the hillside, whenever he slipped he would call out, “O Langri Tangpa, Grim Face!” in much the same way as some people in the