EXPERIENCES IN DZOGCHEN
Vision is mind Mind is emptiness Emptiness is clear light Clear light is union Union is Supreme Joy Dawa Gyaltsen
In Dzogchen teachings, there are three types of experiences: the experience of emptiness, the experience of clarity, and the experience of joy.
The teachings say that the way you experience yourself, the way you live this experience, is in a way nothingness: “I am nobody.” Do you prefer to say “I am,” or do you prefer to say “I am nothing”? The problem is the same: if you say “I am,” then what are you? And if you say, “I am not,” then what are you not? In a way, silence is best: we cannot say anything.
The experience of being unable to refrain from saying something, from locating something, from seeing a form, a name, a color, an identity, is nothing. And if you have to express it verbally, you can say: “it is nothing,” or you can say: “it is everything,” it is exactly the same. In experience, there are no limits; that is what makes the difference: you live it as something totally open, unconditioned, full of vastness and depth. And it is from that place that the universe can manifest; that is a good place. In Buddhist Bön teachings, we call that place from which the universe manifests “emptiness.” Usually, when we say the word “emptiness,” it doesn’t sound very interesting; perhaps it is interesting for some people, but generally this word can cause some to say: “I already have enough emptiness in my life, I don’t want to learn more about emptiness.” In Buddhism, there is much talk about emptiness, and many books have been written about it, and sometimes I say that reading all those books can be painful.
In relation to emptiness—or fullness, as you wish to call it—experience is what matters. It may be that you feel complete sometimes, but great fullness is when you feel totally full and complete. So, emptiness is an important place.
Buddhism says that everything is empty, that everything is interdependent, nothing has inherent existence, and everything we see, we project ourselves; this is the philosophy. We learn this philosophy, and there are moments in our lives when we want to apply it, and we see a tree and say, “that is real,” and when we are faced with something we don’t like, we say: “that is empty, that is not there.” This is a playful way of applying it, and it is acceptable, it is like saying: “sometimes I want to, sometimes I don’t”; but there are moments in our lives when we suffer, and then we ask ourselves who is the one suffering. We do not want to fight against that suffering, because it is infinite; we want to go to the root of that suffering, which is ignorance.
Ignorance is the center or the root from which all suffering has been created; that is why we seek that root. The simplest way to seek it is to ask ourselves: “Who am I?” as I explained in Chapter 10. When you discover that you are not there, you say: “I do not exist!” The experience that you are not there, that you do not really exist, can be very intense and profound. Then, if you do not exist, your suffering does not exist, and thus you enter the experience of the yogi of emptiness. This is what people do in monasteries or in caves.
The first thing to understand is that every role we play in our lives is an illusion. But you don’t have to see it from a negative point of view; you can say it is a playful illusion or a joyful illusion, or perhaps some will experience it as a miserable illusion: it depends on how much inner work you have done. But however it may be, it is nothing more than an illusion, because it has no consistency in itself; it changes constantly, you can never cling to that role. If you have the idea of clinging to it and making it permanent, it means you have not understood it. It changes constantly, all the time we see changes; that is impermanence. This means that in your life—in your business or in any other activity—you must reach a greater depth: it is about perceiving ourselves beyond all this conventional reality, beyond the roles we play.
Let’s look at this situation in samsara. Imagine a person who is building a life as a businesswoman or businessman, as a mother or father. That person builds a life, and then says: “What a beautiful samsara!” And then, little by little, what they have built begins to dissolve. Perhaps a woman thinks she has a beautiful primordial nature consisting of being a wife, but when her husband leaves, she discovers that that was not her true nature. Perhaps then she thinks that it lies in being a businesswoman and works hard to build a beautiful samsara, but that too will eventually dissolve. And it may be that others do not even consider her a good businesswoman, so even if she tries to force it, that identity simply does not exist. So, none of the identity roles we want to develop in the course of life (and this does not mean that you are not a responsible husband or father) are real: all those roles disappear. You may feel that everything in your life is wrong and say to yourself: “Failure in business, failure in relationships, I am confused...” and when you attend a retreat, the same thing happens, and you say to yourself: “The practices are complicated, this is not for me, I can’t find my place anywhere.” Some people who go through these situations of failure call themselves losers; they feel like losers, and others see them as such. But often we fail to understand that this type of situation places us in a good position to recognize emptiness: we no longer have a husband, or business, or anything. A monk who walks for a hundred days in the desert may have left his wife, his business, everything. You did not want to leave any of this, but all of it left you. The monk’s situation is the same as yours; in his case, it is a spiritual practice, and in yours, a samsaric loss. However, if you are mature and prepared, your discovery of emptiness can be much greater than the monk’s; perhaps on the eightieth day of the journey, the monk realizes that it wasn’t so bad to have a wife or eat a freshly made tortilla, he can imagine a lemonade, and all those things can come to mind. When people are prepared and mature, the experience of emptiness can be an enormous discovery, a great realization.
Human beings grow through suffering. Why? Because suffering is our limit, because every time we suffer and see our limitations, we have the opportunity to go beyond them or to work with them. In life, we go through experiences in which, despite ourselves, we lose things; that is forced emptiness. For example, if you are deeply in love with someone and that person leaves you, or if you are trying to consolidate the business of your dreams and it falls apart, imagine how you feel in that situation: it is not a feeling of expansive emptiness, the space is small; what you experience is the absence of yourself, not of something else. In the story you tell yourself about it, you suffer because the other is absent, but in reality, what you experience is not their absence, it is the absence of yourself. If you reflect on that experience beforehand and open yourself to it and contain it and integrate it more and more, you will experience those same conditions differently. There are so many ways to experience ourselves!
Why does a person experience loss when they lose something externally? Because their way of experiencing themselves is through the external. Likewise, on the internal level, we will lose the energy of our body, our youth, or our flexibility; everything we have when we are young, we will lose. When your teenage son tells you at midnight: “Mom, get up, I want to go dancing now!” what do you feel? You no longer have that energy, and you begin to realize that you are not the same as before, and this is not easy for you to accept; however, others accept it easily and say to themselves, “it’s okay.” Why do some of us think it’s okay and others don’t? Those who consider it not okay are connecting with themselves through the energy of youth, and this is something external. That does not mean we do not experience ourselves through youth; what it means is that we do not have to limit the experience of ourselves in that way, but rather we must go beyond age.
The experience of space in the heart is a lived experience that has nothing to do with age, nor with excitement or absence of excitement: it is essence, it is omnipresence, it goes beyond everything. That is why we pray to connect with that experience, and when we feel the connection, it is a very profound experience.
It is not the same to experience something as to identify with that experience. In the mirror, many images can be reflected, some very beautiful, and others ugly; but the mirror does not identify with them, it does not say: “That is my face!” or “That is not mine!” The mirror simply allows images, energy, the beautiful, the ugly, everything to be reflected. The space of the heart has that quality: of accommodating everything and containing everything. To the extent that we can connect with that and allow those experiences, we reconnect with empty space.
In daily life, there is a path to reach the experience of emptiness: meditation. Our mind is naturally empty, its nature is empty, its essence is empty, but we have filled it with thoughts, emotions, feelings, ideas; it is full, but we must discover that it is actually empty. Doing Zhiné practice helps. A good prolonged session of Zhiné helps you discover this; direct observation also helps you discover it. When you discover emptiness, there is a possibility that you will fall into the experience of nihilism, like people who have been disappointed many times in their lives: they lose light, hope, joy, laughter, humor; in a way, they have fallen into nihilism —they no longer see anything, they have not found what they wanted to see, and then they think there is nothing more to see. For them, emptiness becomes something dark, and they get lost internally.
In meditation, there is a possibility that this may happen; you say: “there is nothing,” but it is not that there is nothing; in emptiness—in space—there is everything. Realize that in the space you have discovered, there is the presence of clear light, that clear light is inseparable from the space that contains all potentiality.
Emptiness is not nothingness, but rather there is a fullness in it, there is clear light. Try only to be conscious of that light, of that open awakened consciousness. This basically means that when experiencing the mind as empty, you realize the full and clear light that is in it; this is clear light, and that is enough.
When you discover that the mind is empty, you realize that it is not separate from clear light; when you discover clear light or open awakened consciousness in emptiness, you see that both are united. Try to experience that.
“Clear light is union” basically means that what is empty is clear, and what is clear is empty. You cannot have the experience of clarity without emptiness, and you cannot experience emptiness without clarity. So it is very important to experience union, inseparability. That union is the origin of all qualities, of all joy and supreme bliss. Allow joy to arise from union; when you feel it, feel it more strongly, more closely, more familiarly.
The experience of joy can only be had when we have a lot of energy and at the same time maintain the connection, that is, when we do not disconnect from ourselves.
When we can relate to the external without losing our connection to ourselves, this is the most beautiful experience. The most beautiful way we can live is when we are connected to everything and at the same time are totally connected to ourselves.
The opposite example to that of a person who has many things is the person who, to find themselves, seeks to disconnect from everything: from family, from business, from school. It’s not that this situation in itself is a problem, but we must be careful not to go too far. Sometimes it’s good to step away; it’s a human need: you are looking for yourself, and for that, you leave your environment. But you can find yourself within the environment that surrounds you; you can find yourself in the place where you have the most life experiences; you can find yourself where the world is most familiar to you, but you go into a world that is not so familiar to you as an adventure. Sometimes it is necessary to do that, and it is fine; but cutting ties and leaving is not necessarily the solution to finding oneself.
In Dzogchen, it is said that the experience of bliss is not the natural state of the mind; neither is the experience of emptiness nor the experience of clarity. These are just experiences; beyond them, we can connect with the one who has the experience; that is the nature of the mind, and from there we can connect with everything. If we only connect with the experience, we cut off or lose the connection with this unique truth.
If we have the experience of bliss, if we are in rigpa, if we allow ourselves to have the experience, but without being attached or identified with it, experiences can be very freeing; or they can become blocked: for example, if a very beautiful rainbow appears, what do we see? Naturally, we see something that is beautiful, and immediately afterward, a part of attachment or the idea of permanence begins to appear: "Where is the camera? I'm going to get the camera!", but we are not sure if it is where we think, if we know where we left it, if it has film, or if it will work. And all these things become problems. We can simply enjoy the rainbow, but if all this other stuff comes into play, then we can no longer enjoy it, because we are too busy looking for the camera and have stopped seeing the rainbow.
So, if the rainbow is there, which is very beautiful, enjoy it; when the rainbow dissolves, enjoy the beauty of the sky. Every moment the world is waiting for us to enjoy it, but we are constantly trying to leave a real world for an unreal world with which we fantasize. We keep our photo, but we have lost the real rainbow. To avoid being victims of experience, we must be present in the experience; the moment we have the experience, we release it and are ready for the next experience. I know it is difficult to be free in this way, but at least we can be less blocked.
In Dzogchen, it is said: "What is needed is unlimited perspective." This is something very magical; it means being open to the circumstances we are in. And this leads us to so many different places and so many beautiful circumstances, if we can remain open! Sometimes we even find beauty in what we don't normally think is beautiful. For example: we have an appointment with our ex-husband or ex-wife, and attending it is something we don't want to do but have to. So we schedule the appointment, which is for Monday from eleven to twelve, and we are not in a good mood; but life has put us in this situation, and we could make something very beautiful out of it. We could make it so that during that hour all the long-standing disputes soften, so that we could leave that meeting saying, "Well, yes, I used to fight a lot with this person, but she's not so bad!" We could make that hour a beautiful experience, even take away the gift of that memory. We have already chosen to meet, and then it's about really meeting; otherwise, why did we make the appointment? The meeting is an opportunity to improve; I don't understand why make the appointment if you don't have that intention. I understand it's not easy, but at that moment when we are face to face, we can realize that we chose to be there for an hour and that what we want is to make peace with that person, not to start seeing in her all the strange things that always irritated us: how she drinks tea or how she talks about the weather; which is like instantly elaborating a vision in which all the things that irritated us appear, as if they were still there, identical.
Every moment can be beautiful, even if it is a difficult moment, because, as the Dzogchen teaching says, one can have the experience of space everywhere. When we cry, we can have the experience of space; when we love, we can have the experience of space; when we feel pain, we can have the experience of space. That is why some people, in certain circumstances, are sometimes told: "You must be very sad," or "You must be very tired," but they are not, and this is because they can have the experience of things in space.
Understand that every moment is for enjoying it, and if you couldn't enjoy it, then understand that in every moment it is possible to heal what could not be healed before. This is a perspective that gives a lot of strength. Perhaps you say to yourself: "My problem is that I regret things later"; for example, in the case of the rainbow: "Later I will regret taking the photo"; "I should have done this, I should have done that," and "Why did I do this and not that?" The answer would be: it doesn't matter! Every moment is for enjoying it. And if I see this moment as a moment to enjoy it, I don't start thinking about what I didn't do at lunchtime, but rather I am in this moment to enjoy it and to heal. And if someone comes to remind me of what I did and what I didn't do, I say: "Leave me alone"; I don't want to hear it because I want to be in this moment.
The mantra of Dzogchen is "as it is," and it is with this "as it is" that we connect. Absolutely everything is in that quality; we find everything there. And you will be surprised to see how many beautiful things there are in that "as it is."
So, how do we find ourselves? We find ourselves in this very moment: we already are. We don't need to struggle to become something we wish we were. What we are is already complete in this moment; what we are is simple, it is clear, it permeates everything, it is full of potential for anything to arise in the next moment. And what are we? A pure being, a being that permeates everything, a being full of potential, connected to itself and to the world. We can find ourselves right here where we are; we don't need to go anywhere else to find ourselves. It is very important to understand this so as not to elaborate, not to change, not to reject, not to flee, not to withdraw: "it is as it is."
As it is said in Dzogchen: "remain in what is."
When we are in that state, there is a part of our thinking that tries to say something, to call our attention, to distract us. If we pay attention, we will spend our time fighting against little military officers, we will spend our time engrossed in these little battles and never touch base. When we are in space, we have no need for protection or defense, because space cannot be destroyed. When we reach this level, we reach the quality of indestructibility, which is the most powerful state that can be achieved through meditation.
In Dzogchen teachings, it is said that "we should expect nothing"; but of course, this is very difficult, because we have been preparing for a retreat for months, and it is impossible to expect nothing, but we try not to expect. Then, when we do a dark retreat, we have many experiences, and these can be very incredible; but we are not supposed to label them. Yongdzin Tenzin Namdak Rinpoche constantly told me: "Don't get particularly emotional when you have experiences," and by this, he meant reactions like saying, "Oh, what a good practitioner I am!" or "Why is this happening to me?" because thinking like that is precisely what is inappropriate; it is equivalent to missing the main point: the moment we do this, the experience vanishes. So, even though it is natural to do so, we must try not to judge or label it. If we get very emotional about an experience, we lose it. If we try to put a name to the experience, the moment we name it, the experience is gone, it is lost.
If we are not inspired by nature, by plants, by colors, what can we expect? Immediately we go to a place of pain. This is completely natural. There are people who always say: "Why am I always thinking about this? Why am I always stuck on this?" and they are necessarily like that because they have no other source of inspiration, they can see nothing else. Of course, when a person is stuck in this situation, they are stuck there.
When we find ourselves in a difficult situation, we can elevate ourselves to a broader perspective. For example, if we have a problem with a person, we can stop focusing on everything that person does: when they come in, when they go out, what they are going to do, what they are going to say... Or, for example, if at a party where many people are invited, there is one person we don't like, aren't the other hundred people, who are pleasant, enough to counteract her? There are so many beautiful things! but we focus on the one we don't like. Why not enjoy everything else? So, raise your perspective a little and enjoy—this requires inspiration.
Union is great bliss. When do you feel happy? True happiness comes from the union of space and open, awakened consciousness. Infinite freedom and the experience of realizing this become bliss. In general, union is bliss, union is always bliss: the union of man and woman, of method and wisdom, the idea of balance, yin and yang, always. When things are balanced and there is a sense of union in them, that union always produces bliss. Thus, supreme bliss is the experience of the inseparability of space and open, awakened consciousness.
Connect with that joy, with that bliss; generate a strong connection with it; remain in the inseparability of emptiness and awakened consciousness.
The experience of open, awakened consciousness is light. Openness, space is the basis, emptiness: remain in the inseparability of emptiness and clarity.