Page 4: Emptiness Nature
Buddhist philosophy talks about illusory nature, or emptiness; and again and again, its texts go into deeper understanding of "emptiness nature." But emptiness nature doesn’t need to be understood in a complicated way. It simply says that everything we hold to be true, real, or solid is, in fact, composite and doesn’t have any independent existence on its own.
We can look at outer objects or we can look at ourselves–at that strongest of attachments, [our] sense of "I." The ego, or I, is always there. Most of you are familiar with how analytical meditation pinpoints that certain thing called "I." We find that wherever we look–outside or inside, in any part of our body or organs–no matter where we search, in reality we cannot find anything that is independent, [nothing] that can be called an independent "self," or "I."
So we walk around with a false notion that "I" in some way exists. Logically, we gather together the compositeness of body, as well as mind and consciousness, karma, and habitual patterns, and we assume there’s an "I." And yet [when we] really examine it, "I" and our strong grasping to its self existence is no different than the notion of the existence of my horns. So we can see that "emptiness nature" is simply talking about that nature which is "empty," and yet with its composite quality, has the [potential for] action, for some kind of activity.
All the texts talk about resting the mind in the absolute true nature, the true nature of emptiness. And within the Buddhist tradition, we find 84,000 tenet teachings [on emptiness]. Then over the last 2,600 years of Buddhism, we find more explanations and texts expounding different details of these 84,000 tenets. So hundreds of thousands of teachings are available on emptiness. I think nowhere in the history of any civilization is there a more complicated method to explain what emptiness is! (Laughter.) [It is] a clear example of how our mind really wants something to be there (laughter).
We find every teacher trying to explain what emptiness is and talking about the same things over and over: no shape, no color, no form, no feeling, no touch–no nothing (laughter). I sometimes feel tremendously touched and grateful to all of these teachers: in no other way could anyone explain more kindly what emptiness is. When a teacher sits and sees no form, no feeling, no touch, no sensation, no color, no shape–there’s really no other way to support that in speech than to try and explain about not making it complicated, keeping it simple.
When complexity is added, illusion grows, [and] things become more trapped in action and reaction, in cause and fruition. Illusion–whatever we may call it–simply grows out of making [emptiness] complex, making it difficult. Spiritual practice, such as buddhist meditation, should lead towards cutting through complexity and resting the mind in an understanding of absolute truth. Then something can be understood. And today’s meditators–especially in the West where so much practice is going on–need to understand that.
When [absolute truth] is understood, then you will really be practicing sincerely. If you can remain with that understanding, the spiritual path has some meaning–without any pretense of being a meditator, or of being on any particular path of practice. From the moment you sit in meditation, you realize that what you’re trying to achieve is simply the first basic responsibility of being a human being, being honest to yourself and honest towards others.
From that honesty, you’re able to understand complete genuineness in every action. If you have a body, you fulfill the responsibilities of having a human body, and [you] do not harm anyone else. If you achieve some happiness for yourself, in the midst of your own happiness, you generate as much or greater happiness as you can for others. If you have speech, you’re responsible for your speech and you don’t hurt or inflict harm on anyone else through speech. And you take care of your own mind, generating thoughts that are useful. Simple common sense tells us that if a thought is useless, meaningless, or harmful, and not at all good for anyone else, you shouldn’t generate that [thought]. So, you’re able to really train your body, speech, and mind–and you are able to see what is left.
If you do not harm anyone with your body, speech, or mind, what else remains? That remaining nature is a spiritual meditator. You may not be very busy doing very intricate, complicated things, but even if you were doing the most complex studies of Buddhism, you should end up that way. And, if a beginning meditator can begin that way and that is the end [result], if you choose to go through all the 84,000 tenets for millions of years to reach that same point, it’s very much your own choice! (Laughter.) The more you practice in this way, the more you understand Buddhism. I think it is necessary to do that.
I recall times when we would go to our teachers, [wanting] to receive the most complicated teachings, the most challenging instructions, and heart essence teachings. These were always very tempting. But when teachers would talk on the Four Reminders, most of the time we wouldn’t attend. We knew them already: we knew human life was very precious, we knew impermanence was there (laughter), we knew about cause and effect and the suffering of sentient beings. So we would wait for the most challenging topics to come up. But if we think about it, all of those challenging, complicated philosophies, views, meditations, and different paths of practices are meant to [make us] really tired of doing them, really tired of trying to see. (Laughter.) So [while] there’s real benefit from them, in some sense they’re ways to tame the really untamed ones.
The way to [practice] is to truly come back and understand that within the First Noble Truth–the truth of suffering–is the entirety of all the teachings of all three yanas. One who doesn’t understand and appreciate this human life, who never realizes its potential for so much goodness, who is unable to fulfill all of its responsibilities, and doesn’t understand the value of human life–such a person cannot truly generate any compassion for [other] sentient beings.

Venerable Khandro Rinpoche
New York public Talk 10-20-98

Page 6: Question period
On Working with Form/Emptiness
On Letting Go
On Personal Investigation
Guidelines for Basic Meditation
On Mutual Appreciation
On Positive and Negative Karma
On Working with Form/Emptiness
Q (inaudible...) Is it possible to be a good buddhist by cleaning your room? (Laughter.) I ask that in all seriousness. I’m trying to help somebody learn how to clean their room; and if it’s all an illusion, if it doesn’t really matter, would you say... ?
A No, no, no, no. I think to be a good buddhist, you have to know how to clean your room. (Laughter)
Q. So I can tell my friend that... (inaudible).
A. I think so. [Then] the mind can rest in the absolute, true nature of emptiness, in the absolute true quality innately within each sentient being. [We] get stuck in relative existence for such a long time, believing in it for so many lifetimes–and for those who only see as far as one lifetime, even in this one lifetime we’re so very stuck in our own fixations, on what seems so real. Although the innate quality of emptiness is there, we haven’t realized it, so we’re still stuck with form. And as long as we’re stuck with form, talking about emptiness does not at all mean that we’ve realized it. Until then, our responsibility–even to clean up clutter–is necessary.
Q. So, sometimes in order to shatter illusion, you have to do some work.
A. Look at this shrine room, look at the forms we have, look at where I am sitting. (Laughter.) As long as this is real then, yes, we have to clean the shrine room, and make sure that there’s always someone sitting on these brocades–although it looks a little bit odd in some cases.
Q, Is it real to you?
A. It shouldn’t be; that’s my practice.
Q. It shouldn’t be?
A. It shouldn’t be; but as long as it’s necessary, then it’s necessary.
Q. (inaudible) When we talk about dealing with depression, we [may] realize that everything around us is an illusion, that it’s all complete nonsense, it doesn’t exist, it’s all mind. But what if you have a certain type of karma that you have to deal with every day, like a disability? And you’re told not to be depressed about it, not to get really sad or anything, and you realize that you actually create it yourself. But you still get depressed. What do you do in that situation?
A. It’s a good question, in the sense that that’s why form becomes necessary, as I said in relation to the first question. But we cannot say "this form is good," or "that form is not good." Often we try to cut through one fixed, or rigid, form, thinking "[that’s] not the right thing to do" or "I should be more flexible," [and we] develop another path. But over the ages that path, again, becomes one more form. So many forms arise out of trying to cut through existing forms.
In the same way, Buddhism has been formulated as a philosophy and path of practice: different yanas, different levels, different do’s and don’ts, and levels of practice, things that some can see and some cannot, some can do and some cannot. And then there has to be someone sitting to judge whether this person is qualified to do this or not qualified to do that. In the beginning, none of those rigid forms arose as a necessity at all. They were never talked about.
Through time, human beings handle even something as profound as buddhist philosophy [this way]. We begin to use our own interpretations and our own minds to give rise to certain ideas, thinking they’re really beneficial. We say, "truly, because it worked for me, it will work for you." And sometimes it does, but sometimes we just get stuck with another system. In trying to overcome one system, or form, we create another.
Students of a particular teacher become teachers themselves and, for them, their teacher is the most excellent teacher. They assume that what worked for them should work for everyone. And it’s a good thought; but out of it, again, come two [warring] factions, saying, "my lineage is better than your lineage," "my school is better than your school." And again we have form.
Looking at it in terms of meditation, illusion needs to be understood to lessen our grasping and attachment; but on the other hand, [we must] always appreciate relative existence.
When talking about emptiness, always remember that suffering is part of it. The Buddhist teachings do not begin with "everything is emptiness"; they begin with "everything is by nature suffering." [They] acknowledge relativity, first, and then emptiness nature as the core essence of relative experience. The life of a human being need not be stuck in relativity; and that relativity need not be so bad or concrete. When we realize its core essence of emptiness, we balance relativity and emptiness, rather than rejecting one [or the other]. If we reject the relative and remain stuck in emptiness, we can never be ordinary, compassionate human beings; if we forget emptiness and remain stuck in relativity, then we end up as selfish human beings.

On Letting Go
Q. (inaudible: re feeling an emotion and letting it go).... If something very painful happened to somebody early on, and they experience a numbness growing up regarding that type of experience, do they not have to feel what happened in order to release it?
A. I think a person is very lucky [to have] only experienced one kind of difficult experience in life. (Laughter.) To relive [it] so that one can recognize how painful it was and then get over it, sounds quite logical and practical. But life [continues to be] full of difficulties–even though we think we’ve only experienced one major suffering. And I don’t think it’s necessary to relive or re-experience it, or to try and go back into it again. In a few exceptional cases, people are not able to deal with a major crisis. They’re in some kind of denial, not able to even acknowledge it, and bottling up their emotions. On the other hand, some people work hard at generating a problem–which is unnecessary.
Every individual’s difficulties and problems are different. It would be very unfair to generalize emotional distress or difficult experiences. People experience difficulties that you can’t even dream of, and you must appreciate what happens to people. On the other hand, it’s best, as much as possible, not to make it harder on yourself by making it more real, or letting it overcome [you] again and again and again. This is really not necessary.
Within the levels of meditative teachings and instructions, we first spend a fair amount of time recognizing and examining what anger is (or desire, or ignorance, or hatred, or jealousy). On the hinayana path, we simply look at it as something entirely negative, destructive–and abandon it completely. From a mahayana perspective, we talk about transforming it into something beneficial by applying an antidote: whenever anger comes up, we immediately try to counteract that angry emotion by generating tolerance or peacefulness; or if some kind of desire or attachment comes up, we develop generosity or apply another antidote. [Then] vajrayana Buddhism talks about transcending, [transforming] it into its pure essence by recognizing its true nature. As soon as anger comes up, we’re able to say "what is the nature of anger?" Then we dissolve it–not as an illusion but rather by seeing that, other than our own grasping mind, there is no anger by its own self. Nothing says "I am Mr. Anger, I will go into her mouth or mind and generate anger." (Laughter.) There’s no such thing. So transcending talks about it in that way.
If we see the three [levels] together, however, they’re all talking about the same thing. Because people have different potential, different causes and conditions, different aptitudes and likes, [they] feel attracted to the paths that seems most skillful [to them]. For some, transcending works very well; for some, transformation works very well; and for some, abandoning works very well. Ultimately it’s the anger that has to go, isn’t it? (Laughter.)
So, you can sit and visualize your teacher in front [of you] radiating light into your heart center and dispelling all anger. That’s one effective method. But, ultimately, you learn there’s neither teacher, nor you, nor your anger–therefore it was an unnecessary thing to do. (Laughter.) From a hinayana point of view, when anger comes up, you might simply abandon it, drop it. That’s it! It’s a way of seeing that all the unfortunate emotions or difficulties we experience in our lives will remain as long as we make them [do so]. This does not in any way mean that we don’t appreciate the difficulties that people experience. But the wise person is one who’s able to let go and not drag it on too long, because it’s not beneficial to oneself or anyone else. So making this story very long is also your own choice (laughter), and being able to end it is also up to you. The logical way of looking at it is the more beneficial way of doing it.

On Personal Investigation
Q. (inaudible)
A. With all of our different explanations and our common sense–even in terms of absolute truth–we try to achieve understanding based on somebody else’s hard work. [Even] sitting in meditation, we’re very much working with the hard work of somebody else’s experience. Reading these two texts, we understand and say "this is true, this really strikes my heart"–but that’s actually somebody else’s experience, somebody else’s logic. Even [your] sitting here, trying to understand or agree with me that a pot is empty by nature, is based on my own experience.
When we try to gain conviction based on somebody else’s hard work, it doesn’t work very well. Because our conviction is not based on our own examination, it’s very weak. So [as soon as] something more solid comes up, our weak conviction is actually subdued by whatever is more apparent. When relativity is more apparent, [when] anger is more apparent, you forget what Khandro Rinpoche said about thoughts being empty by nature.
Nothing is more effective than spending time in personal investigation and examination, taking the time to truly examine things such as impermanence or suffering. You can spend considerable time saying "that strikes me as being true," but when you examine it [yourself], you’re completely convinced. In Buddhism, we talk about the importance of devotion, but faith and devotion are not merely agreeing with what somebody else says. The Buddha taught, in the first place, that [everything] has to be based on your personal investigation. It’s very much like the analogy of tasting honey: [when you taste] honey, you know it’s sweet. If somebody comes along and says, "I’m going to kill you if you do not say honey is salty," you may say that it’s salty–but deep down, you can’t do much about the mind that says it is sweet anyway. (Laughter.)
Similarly, [when you] spend time in personal investigative meditation, analyzing and examining whether something is true or not, then you experience [it] for yourself. Looking at something from all ten directions, you see that it’s truly baseless and, therefore, useless to hold onto. Whether you call it "devotion," "faith," or whatever, it’s very much the same thing. The strength of that allows us to cut through whatever habitual tendencies need to be cut through.