THE SEARCH FOR THE NATURE OF THE MIND
If you search for the nature of the mind, you will not find it; if you do not search for it, you will not lose it either. Primordially, it is there, within yourself; it is yours, you are it, and you will never be lost.
Nine Ways to Recognize the Natural Mind
In Dzogchen, the first time the disciple contacts their natural mind in the presence of the Master is called "introduction to the Self" or "introduction to the true nature of the mind"; by "introduction," we mean "direct showing." What does this mean for you? We can have many ideas about what this means, but one thing we all agree on is that it does not refer much to the body but rather to the natural mind, the nature of the mind, the essence of the mind, the aspect of the mind that is beyond all condition.
Although you can search for the natural mind in a thousand different ways, the result is always the same: you find nothing. This can also apply to our daily lives when we create a problem. Once, a friend of mine who is a therapist approached his patient with this approach and said: "Let's see, where is your problem? I don't mean where your problem might be, nor how you can create your problem, nor how you can project your problem, nor how you can get hooked on the problem, but where is your problem right now?" And the patient looked up and down, looked at the door and the window, looked at the therapist, at his own body... and replied: "No, right here and now, I don't have a problem." Then the therapist said: "Why can't you always be like this, like now?" That's the idea. But obviously, that's not what usually happens: after a while, you end up in the same problematic place, and this is always due to having a strong sense of self, to clinging too much to your identity or a situation.
With these nine methods for recognizing the natural mind and thus establishing its nature, you try to realize the illusion you are in, thereby realizing the truth; the truth is that everything is a spectacle, a performance, and you realize that you should not take all that
Shardza Tashi Gyaltsen, Heart Drops of Dharmakaya: Dzogchen Practice of the Bön Tradition. Snow Lion Publications, 2nd ed., Ithaca, New York, 2002. Commentary by Lopon Tenzin Namdak. performance seriously, that it is not true: you observe the spectacle, enjoy it, and let it go, and that is a good way to relate to it. So, our life is like a magician's performance, and we even have an audience. Sometimes we get so involved in the spectacle that we get into trouble; other times, we are able to maintain enough distance, enjoy it, and it does not cause us suffering. The text says: "You search for your mind in nine different ways and do not find it." What does this mean? Is it an achievement or a failure? Are you supposed to find something, or is finding nothing good? And the text continues: "Nine ways to recognize the natural mind through awareness, through remaining, through liberation, and through cutting the root of the mind."
Each of these ways is related to nine qualities and nine experiences.
The first way to search for the nature of the mind: "Recognize its empty nature."
Sit in the five-point posture, relax, and allow thoughts to manifest; they appear, for example, in the form of fear, which seems very real and very solid, and you ask it: "Are you real? Are you real?" See if it has any substance; close your eyes for a moment and try to see if it does. "It seems real: it's causing me problems, but is it real?" That's what you ask yourself internally. Here we are considering the mind in two aspects: one is seeing the fear and recognizing it; the other is experiencing it. It's as if they were two different minds. In the first, the mind is cleaner, healthier, and in the other, more confused. Sometimes we don't see these two distinct aspects; they both become one: it is the mind that is afraid, and then your body is fear, your mind is fear, and your energy is fear—everything is fear. When people get depressed or confused, that's what happens to them. So, it is very important to be able to observe these two aspects of the mind separately.
Continue asking yourself, as you search for it from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head: "Where is the fear?" Look for it in your room, in the bathroom, and you will see that it is not there. Then observe who it is that is searching: you don't find that either. So, what you find is the absence of fear and the absence of the one searching for fear; when you find the absence of both, that is the experience of recognizing the empty nature of the mind. If you search in the mind and ask yourself what fear is and who is seeing the fear, when you find nothing, you are realizing the empty nature of the mind; that is why here it is about recognizing the nature of the mind through becoming aware of the behavior of the changing mind. When you search and observe like this, the observer and the observed dissolve, and then you find yourself in the vast emptiness or in the vast openness, or in space, or whatever you wish to call it: there is nothing there. This is the recognition of emptiness, of vastness and openness.
The text continues: "Basically, try to recognize its empty nature. There is nothing; it is like the completely empty sky."
When we are in that search and this experience occurs, you realize the un-born, un-originated nature of the mind. I mentioned that each of these nine methods produces nine qualities, nine experiences, and the first of these is seeing the empty nature of the mind: you search and search and find nothing, it is all empty, and when you find that emptiness, you realize the un-originated, un-born nature of the mind. Basically, in this search, there are three aspects:
The process during which you are searching. The result you are not finding, in whose place you find openness. And once you have found the openness, the recognition of the un-born, un-originated nature; you can also call it the recognition of the immutable essence. The greatest experience of fearlessness comes from that place. The maximum experience of indestructibility comes from that recognition.
This is the first way to search for the mind. Contemplate it for a moment.
The second way to search for the nature of the mind is called "the search for vision /nang wa*]." The text says: "Analyzing the appearance or searching for the appearance." Between this way and the first, there is a sequence. You searched, for example, for your fear in an experience of your life: you searched and searched and found nothing, and you had a certain realization, a certain confidence that it was not there, and you were left with the absence of fear, or with the presence of the space of the absence of fear, or simply with the presence of space. Can you destroy what you did not find? Can you get rid of it? Can you get out of it? Can you move away from it?
Return to that place where you found nothing. Return to that place where you could see and find nothing and remain there. You could not find anything, only vastness and openness. Can you destroy what you cannot find? Can you renounce it? Can you go beyond it? Can you be separated from it? Can you be apart from that space? Can you destroy that space? Try it. When you try, you realize that you cannot destroy it, you cannot renounce it, you cannot move away from it; it simply is, open and clear. That clarity is called "the incessant quality," "the incessant nature." "Incessant" means it is always, without ceasing.
Imagine all this that I have said: can you get out of it? Can you get out of that space? No. Can you get out of it as if you were leaving a house? Can you get rid of space? No. Nothing can destroy it, nothing can stop it, nor halt it. What is there is clean, clear, indestructible presence. If you don't believe it is indestructible, try to destroy it, try to get out of it; the only way to know it is indestructible is to try to destroy it.
Thus, when you realize that it is indestructible, you also realize that it is immutable and that it appears as an experience, not as an object but as a clear experience in which presence flows. For example: when you see your "famous person," what appears? Anger appears, fear appears. When you see a loved one, joy, love appears. Here, in space, clarity appears—not necessarily experiences of joy or sadness—and that is called "establishing the incessant nature of the mind." This is called "the search for vision," and the search for vision is discovering the incessant nature.
Recognizing the incessant nature of the mind grants much life, much fullness, and perfection; any sense of lack is overcome through this experience, through this recognition.
To be able to recognize these nine methods, you ask yourself different questions. The text says that the search for emptiness is the first. The search for appearance or vision (nang wa) is the second. First is the experience of immutability, incessant immutability, and then one experiences the incessant nature through the immutable. First, you have the experience of emptiness, and from that experience, you experience immutability; second, you experience the incessant nature. Thus, the immutable is incessant, and the incessant is immutable.
When you realize the immutable quality, there is no longer fear, no doubt; when you realize the incessant aspect, you are complete.
We all know the experiences of samsara and know that many things happen in samsara, but somehow, amidst all these things that happen, there is a place that seems not to be changing at all; there is a continuum of that space and that being. Let's put it this way: there is a sense of self beyond what you do, beyond your sex, beyond your belief, beyond your profession, beyond the role you play. Family roles, such as father, mother, brother, sister, are very important, and in certain cultures, professional roles are also important. Here, the point is to search if there is a sense of being that is beyond that—something that does not change and is beyond all roles—or if you are one of these, meaning if you change like the roles you play: you are a mother, and one day your children grow up, and you still want to be their mother as you were before, but they no longer want you to be. Or you have a profession, and one day that changes, you get tired of doing the same job for thirty years, and then you change completely. Throughout life, we change roles again and again, so we all change. Change is incessant, but it is not the best expression of the incessant; the best is what I mentioned earlier: flow, presence, light. Changing experiences are the coarsest level of the incessant.
Do you ever stop experiencing something? No, you never stop experiencing something. If you are awake, you are experiencing something; if you are tired, you are experiencing something; even if you are asleep, you are experiencing something; when you are preparing to die, you are experiencing; when you are dead, you are experiencing something. Everything is experience, so experience is incessant. That is why we say: "Do not cling to an experience, because you are greater than that, you are older than that, you are better than that, so do not stay there too long." That is the incessant.
And this truly gives you a sense of freedom. Your point of view changes from very narrow to very broad, your perspective [ta wa*] expands, and every time your perspective expands, you are more exposed to space, and the more you are exposed to space, the more you are exposed to light, and the more you are exposed to light, the more you are exposed to the incessant.
The Tibetan expression lhun drup means "spontaneous perfection." In the experience of the basis (kunzhi), this does not necessarily mean that joy, for example, is active; but joy is perfected there, joy is there. A person who perfects themselves in joy realizes the perfection of joy within themselves. The person is sleeping, and when they wake up in the morning and see the sunlight, they immediately feel joy; they hear the bird's song and immediately feel joy, they see children playing and immediately feel joy: they have so many reasons to feel joy! Why? Because perfection is not blocked. If nothing happened, perhaps that experience would not be so intense and manifest, but it is there. It is more of an internal joy than an expressed joy. The joy that is expressed arises when the circumstances are there. Conversely, a person who is completely blocked wakes up in the morning and doesn't even notice that the sun is shining, doesn't even notice that children are playing, doesn't even hear that the bird exists or is singing. What's more: if they hear the bird sing, they might perceive that what they hear as the "noise" of the bird, the "noise" of the children, and all of it becomes disturbances that prevent them from sleeping. That is what manifests, that is the feeling when there is a blockage. The person does not feel free, is suffering internally, and feels there are reasons to label their experience. It is surprising how we can always find ways to have problems. If you are left in a completely empty room, you will find a problem there, and if you are left in a room full of things, you will also find a problem.
The third way to search for the nature of the mind: "The incessant nature within the immutable nature." Basically, the text says that you are experiencing both qualities of nature in one, that in reality there is no separation between them. Depending on your perspective, you formulate questions, and it seems they are two different natures, but ultimately they are the same. There are different ways to arrive at the truth, and these depend on your own conditions: the first is from emptiness; the second, from appearance; and the third, from appearance within emptiness. These three are very important.
I would like to clarify the terms "incessant" and "immutable" a bit more. I often give the example of a Tibetan king who was beaten and tortured during the revolution. At first, he was very afraid because he didn't want to be killed, he didn't want an eye removed, he didn't want his teeth broken or his bones shattered; he was constantly protecting himself from fear. Yet, they continued to torture him no matter how much he feared; his torturers did not respect him, perhaps his fear made them enjoy it more. So, little by little, he lost more and more hair, more and more teeth. What he tried to protect were all the impermanent things of his body. He realized that it was impossible to protect them; his torturers were very violent and had no compassion. One day, they beat him so badly that he said, "Okay, do whatever you want to me," and he felt a great liberation deep within his being. They could kill him, and he felt free from them because he could only die once, and there was no point in protecting his hair, nor his beautiful teeth for smiling. He had nothing left, so he finally stopped clinging to what continuously changes. What he discovered is that within him there was something indestructible, something that was beyond the head, bones, and teeth. He had a glimpse of that indestructible quality, and that was his realization, that was his liberation: he was free from his body and free from those people. That sense of being is very important. That sense of being is what Kuntu Zangpo means, it is what the inner Buddha means, it is what the nature of the mind means. In many spiritual traditions, they speak of the indestructible: that is the indestructible.
You can see that there is no separation between the incessant nature and the insubstantial emptiness or openness. It is like light in a clean, clear sky: the sky is immutable, it is open, and the light is incessant, unobscured; there is no separation between light and space, there is no separation between the immutable nature and the incessant nature.
Try to rest there, in the essence.
Reflect on the search for the self. Imagine for a moment the sense of self: how difficult it is to protect it, maintain it, defend it, satisfy its desires; it needs so much! It wants so much...! Reflect a little on this: it is exhausting. Simply realize how exhausting it is and try to understand who this self is; reflect within yourself and remain there.
Now, do not analyze, observe directly: you find nothing; you only find space, you find openness. Simply recognize and connect with this unlimited, infinite, boundless openness; simply recognize this space. As I said, this is like the encounter with Dharmakaya, with Kuntu Zangpo.
Inquire if you can destroy this openness, this essence, or renounce it, or move away from it, or not be it. Simply see if this is possible and maintain the experience. Realize that you cannot destroy it, renounce it, change it. That which you cannot destroy is clean and clear, without obscurations. That which you cannot destroy is clearly present, clearly conscious. Recognize this clear awakened consciousness, observe its incessant nature. It is rigpa. Simply recognize that this incessant nature and this immutable essence are inseparable. This openness and this awakened consciousness are inseparable. Openness is awakened consciousness. Awakened consciousness is openness. The immutable is incessant. The incessant is immutable.
The term "open awakened consciousness" sounds very simple, and to some extent, everyone knows what it means; but in a deeper sense, people do not know what it is. Let's look, for example, at the word "openness." In common language, everyone refers to openness in relation to something: "I am opening up to others," "I am opening up to my partner," "I am opening up to this situation, because every time I close myself off in my relationship, I have problems." Generally, what one means is: "I want to open up to others, to my friends." But that has nothing to do with the openness I am referring to here; here I am referring to discovering this openness that already exists within oneself. This openness, this space, is the space we call Dharmakaya, the space we can refer to as the essence, the space we can refer to as immutable: the space where we can discover maximum power, where there is no sense of fear. This is the space we discover.
"Discovering space" sounds good. Sometimes people use the term "discovering emptiness," and when we say "discovering emptiness," it can seem like a contradiction; that's why we are trying to clarify by saying: "Who is looking? Who is recognizing the nature that is immutable?" And the answer is: the incessant nature is what recognizes the essence that is immutable.
And once you discover and understand the incessant nature, you recognize that there is no separation between the immutable essence and the incessant nature. Nirmanakaya manifests from this inseparable state.
The term “open awakened consciousness” seems very simple, and to a certain extent, everyone knows what it means; but in a deeper sense, people do not know what it is. Let us look, for example, at the word openness. In common language, everyone refers to openness in relation to something: “I am opening myself to others,” “I am opening myself to my partner,” “I am opening myself to this situation, because every time I close myself off in my relationship, I have problems.” Generally, what one means is: “I want to open myself to others, to my friends.” But that has nothing to do with the openness I am referring to here; here I am referring to discovering this openness that already exists within oneself. This openness, this space, is the space we call Dharmakaya, the space we can refer to as essence, the space we can refer to as immutable: the space where we can discover maximum power, where there is no sense of fear. This is the space we discover.
“Discovering the space” sounds good. Sometimes people use the term “discovering emptiness,” and when we say “discovering emptiness,” it may seem like a contradiction; that is why we are trying to clarify by saying: “Who is looking? Who is recognizing the nature that is immutable?” And the answer is: the incessant nature is what recognizes the essence that is immutable.
And once you discover and understand the incessant nature, you recognize that there is no separation between the immutable essence and the incessant nature. Nirmanakaya manifests from this inseparable state.
The experience of the “immutable essence” is Dharmakaya, the experience of the incessant nature is Sambhogakaya, and the experience of their inseparability is Nirmanakaya.
This would be the best way to carry out what we call direct observation. Instead of analyzing and analyzing the analyzer, we observe directly. For example, in your experience: do you feel absence of fear when I say “immutable essence”? When you have a very direct connection with this, you feel free from fear. When you do not have this connection and there are many external changes, that can become frightening; likewise, emotions are so changeable that they become frightening. And if you observe your thoughts, you see that they are continuously changing, and this causes fear. But if you are in the space where the observer and the observed have dissolved, what some would call “the encounter with God” occurs. It is the encounter with Dharmakaya. What obscures us is thought. Here, the point is not to cling to thought, but to observe directly. Direct observation is when conceptual mind does not intervene.
In Dzogchen, when we speak of going to the source, to the origin, we are talking about these experiences: the immutable essence, the incessant nature, and the inseparability of both. Any means—intellectual means, conceptual means—is a secondary means. In the teachings, the example is given of washing hands with blood when they are stained with blood: this refers to trying to solve a problem created by the mind by using the mind that created the problem. The mind that creates problems only knows how to create problems; it can create a new one, but just because it is new, it does not cease to be a problem. So, to be able to solve that problem, you have to go to the root of the mind, to the base of the mind; that means reaching the place of pure awakened consciousness. What does “pure awakened consciousness” mean? Pure awakened consciousness means the awakened consciousness of Being: that is where you have to arrive.
Sometimes, when you have a lot of confusion in your mind, you get into more confusion in your attempt to clarify the first, and when you are confused, you might talk to another confused person, and perhaps you think that doing so will help you; but it hardly will. What you can do then is to rest in your true nature. Of course, you have to have enough strength to be able to do so. Once you are capable of doing it, you are resting in a beautiful place.
Commonly, we are in a very fragile place. As I said before, the self needs a lot, wants a lot, needs to defend itself a lot, protect itself a lot. In a way, it is exhausting: it requires a lot of “maintenance,” and this exhausts you, exhausts others, exhausts a group, a country, the entire world. All this is required to maintain the self. Why is so much maintenance required? Because we believe there is a self there, and we believe that that self really needs all that maintenance. But the truth is that the self does not exist and does not need to be maintained. Trying to understand this requires a little effort. How many times in our lives do we stop to think about it? We are not accustomed to doing so; what we do is talk to the self in this way: “What do you need? Ah! I know what you need. I am trying to get it for you, but these people are very problematic, they are becoming an obstacle, and yet, we will get it.” We converse with the self in that manner. But if for a moment you rest from this and are able to find a deep, very peaceful place, free from conditioning—and therein lies the famous openness— that is what is called direct observation. When I say that the experience of the absence of fear arises from there, it is very true. The reason we fear is that the self fears change; if something changes, we do not think something is changing, we think we are changing: “I am changing, my essence is changing, my being is changing, and I do not want to change, so I am afraid.” But when you know that the natural mind is immutable and you already know it, there is nothing that changes. The circumstances around me may change, but my essence does not change. The more you have this knowledge and the more you discover it, the more confidence, power, and flexibility you will have. That is the power of this openness.
Remember this word: “openness”; it is a very simple word. You can say: “I am experiencing openness in my being,” and that means: I feel openness within me; I am openness, openness is me. And if you remain more in yourself in this openness, you are in a very powerful place. But if you are not there, you might say: “I am opening myself, I am trying to feel openness.” And what does that mean? That in this case, openness is nothing more than a word; rather, it means there is a blockage; it means: “I still don’t feel that openness, so I am working to achieve it.” Then you turn your gaze to more specific things and say: “I want to feel openness in this situation.” When you say that, you are referring to something very specific, for example: “This person said something to me,” or “this person did something to me,” or “this person is planning to do something to me, but I still want to feel openness towards them.” That means you are not open, that you find it difficult to open up, that it hurts you to do so. And if you look for the one who is hurting, then the whole process begins: you discover that the one who is hurting is not really there; it is not in that pure place, in that pure Being. Somehow, you realize that all these fears and this Samsara have created a self—a sense of self— that does not really exist, or at least not in a real sense; so you inquire who the self is and carry out the same process, going deeper. In Dzogchen, it is always about seeking the subject, rather than the object.
In Sutra, it is about understanding the emptiness of reality, the emptiness of the object. Here, we are rather trying to discover the emptiness of the subject. The subject is the one who is creating everything. I don’t know to what extent you are understanding or experiencing this; but it is recommended that at every moment in your life you try to reflect on it. To some extent, a somewhat analytical approach intervenes here. But apply it in this way, and the analytical mind will stop, and then you can rest in your true nature.
Use your analytical mind for a moment, like a person who needs to use a cane to get up, but not to walk. Use your conceptual mind to connect with yourself, but do not cling to it.
In Dzogchen teachings, it is said: “Observe, dissolve, and continue.” Another way of saying it would be: “Remain, dissolve, and continue.” Och means to remain, chik means to dissolve, and chang means to continue. What does this mean? First, you find yourself in your true nature or in the natural state. Then a thought arises that has the potential to interfere with awakened consciousness; then you observe: when you observe, the observer and the observed dissolve. That is called “dissolution,” and what follows is called “continuation,” until this continuation becomes remaining again. A thought arises again, an interference, and this cycle repeats continuously. As long as this cycle continues to repeat, you remain a practitioner.
Imagine that one day you sit down to meditate and you see that there is nothing left to dissolve. What do you find? Nothing remains but “remaining,” continuing to remain; there is no dissolution, you do not have to dissolve anything, thoughts simply come and go, they do not prevent you from remaining in the natural state.
That is the day you have been waiting for: the day when thoughts are like flowers and every experience is like an ornament. What do the flower and the ornament mean? They mean that there are no longer any disturbances. An ornament is not something that disturbs.
Recapping: the first method for seeking the nature of the mind leads you to find emptiness; the second leads to remaining in the natural state without being distracted by appearances (visions, forms, sensations that arise); and the third, to appearance in emptiness. These three are very important.
In meditation, we say: “Looking inward and searching,” and the fact that we find nothing is what establishes the unoriginated, unborn nature, emptiness. When you search for the subject and the object, you find nothing; but that does not mean you have found the absence of everything. You did not find what you were looking for, because it is clear that what you found was that you found nothing. But instead, you found something much more valuable than what you were looking for, so you can say to yourself: “I can see everything, but I find nothing; I have everything, but I cling to nothing.”
These first three ways of seeking the mind are the main ones; the other six are various aspects of them.
The fourth way of seeking the nature of the mind refers to the incessant manifestation of visions or appearances [nang wa]. These visions or appearances have no inherent existence, but at this moment they appear clearly before you; they are deceptive visions, samsaric visions; they are not really there, they are like the object of a dream. If they were really there instead of being like the object of a dream, then you should be able to find them when you look for them. The reason you do not find them is because they are not there. Philosophically speaking, you are trying to dissolve things, to deconstruct them. The theory of deconstruction is basically nihilistic and says: “There is nothing, period.”
In Dzogchen teachings, it is not like that; what it says is that “there is clarity”; it is not that there is nothing, there is clarity, but you find nothing. Western nihilistic theory says that if something is there, I should find it, and since I cannot find anything, then there is nothing. There are many realities that we have not yet perceived. The reality we perceive is based on our conditioning; that is why we say these visions are samsaric visions.
I always give this example of the mal-la. Collectively, we can all call it mal-la, but other people may not see it as mal-la; perhaps they see it as a necklace; perhaps it is not so elegant, but they see it as something to wear to go out to dinner. We, collectively, can call it mal-la; but then I have my personal vision, which I add to it, and I say: “It is my mal-la,” and that is my “pure vision.” It is like saying: “This is my mal-la, and no one else can share it, and if someone wears it, we are going to have a problem.” And this is a “personal vision”; in this mal-la, there is nothing of me, but when I see this mal-la, what I see is that it is mine; that part of me that sees it as mine is the basis of my problems; the problem is not in the mal-la, and this is what we refer to when we say that visions are deceptive.
A deceptive vision is like the object of a dream: in dreams, I see the object, and it has an effect on me, but if I try to grasp it, I cannot.
An example of this would be “my famous person.” How many “famous people” do we have? And how many “famous people” are we planning to have? It is incessant. You already know so many “famous people” that when you see one of them, you say: “You are not a big deal; I have many more, you are no longer that important. Incessantly, I have incessant ‘famous people,’ and at any moment I can create famous people.”
I have given the example of projected images: when you show a slide, there is a projector, there is electricity, there is the bulb, there is the lens, and the screen. The white screen is like the basis of consciousness; the bulb is like the light, the lens is like the self, and the slide is like karma, karmic imprints, karmic conditions. We are only capable of creating the “famous person” because of our karma. If we did not have enough karma, we would not create the “famous person.” It takes a lot of karma to create many “famous people.” For example: start with your first famous person; put it (as if it were a slide) in the light, and then it will be projected outward, and you will see it on the screen. What we see on the screen is called nang wa, incessant vision. We continuously see many slides in our lives. When you remove the slide, what do you see on the screen? Light. You put the slide back, and what do you see? The “famous person”: light, famous person, light, famous person... And now, what do you see? Perhaps only light.
Sometimes it takes time to create “famous people”; there are very skillful people who can create them instantaneously, others need more time. Once you place the slide and see the “famous person,” what do you really see there? You see incessant light. What you see is light, colors: dark or light green, red, etc. There is a lot of light, but in that light, you have projected something; you call it “famous person,” and it is bothering you. But what is really there is light, a combination of colored lights. If you look at the slide and see it in a certain way, you see that it is light, it is a different light, which is creating a certain image: an image that you have projected as your “famous person,” your enemy. So there are clearly two places from which you can see, and depending on where you look, you will see light or your enemy. How can you manage to see more light, instead of seeing your enemy? You have to take the image out for a moment, and then what do you see?
You see light. And when you put the image back, you will realize that it is the same light, but it is as if it has manifested and filtered through different colored lights; however, it is the same light, it is the same base.
So, if you are connected to the base [kunzhi], you no longer see your “famous person” there: you see light. If you forget the light of the base and only see the image, you are more likely to keep recreating your “famous person.” This is how it happens in life. You can see everything as light, or you can see it as “famous people” or as your “famous situations.”
How can you have more connection with this light? By having more connection with yourself. Do not seek your Being in the external;
Feel the power within, instead of seeking externally. Feel the joy, the happiness within, instead of seeking them externally. Feel that you have within yourself all those qualities you seek outside: you are the embodiment of those qualities. Feel yourself as Shenla Odkar, who is the embodiment of the six antidotes.
That is the real, complete, perfect way of being. Sometimes you find great support externally: you find a wonderful reason to be happy, and that is great; you are happy and have a good reason to be happy. What do you need to discover? That this same happiness is already within you, that it does not depend on the external. This recognition reinforces the existence of inner happiness, and that helps: it is a great way to grow.
All the wonderful experiences you have externally help you to grow. Are you happy today? That means you are happy, happiness is not outside. It is like when you meditate and say to yourself: “This is a beautiful experience!” Where does this come from? It is something of yours, it is not mine; it does not belong to the place; it is not due to the situation: it is yours, it is within you, and you can have it always. The circumstances that have allowed you to have these experiences are showing you that this is within you, and you can always find that place whenever, wherever, and however: that is the beauty of it. But if you try to condition it, if you say: “I need a Master to have this experience,” or “I need my practice book to have this,” or “I need to be at the retreat center in Valle de Bravo to feel this,” then you will have the experience very rarely, because it is not very common for all these conditions to come together.
When you are in space, awakening is the recognition of the spontaneously perfect, spontaneous perfection. The concept of spontaneous perfection, in Tibetan lhun drup, means that all the happiness in the world is within you. Can you imagine it?
All the happiness in the world is within you, only there, and it is waiting for you; just turn your face a little: you will almost see it; a little more, and the moment you turn, you will discover it. It is waiting for you there; it’s just that you are not looking in the right direction: the wrong direction is outward, the right direction is inward; the wrong direction is towards form, and the right direction is towards the natural mind. The closer you see your natural mind, the more direct the path will be. The more you see matter, the longer the path will be. The more you see conceptual mind, the longer the path will be, and the more you see the senses, the shorter the path will be; the more you see your innate awakened consciousness, your incessant nature, the more direct the path will be.
Incessant vision, incessant appearance, incessant energy, is always manifesting, but you cannot catch it; it is always there, but you cannot reach it.
Why do you want to catch it? Because there is a desire to possess it, because you believe you are that appearance. It is like a sensation; we don’t literally say it like that, but we feel it: “That is me,” and when you lose it, you feel you lose yourself. If you identify with someone, when you lose that person, you feel you lose yourself. Why do you feel you lose yourself? Because you have identified. We do this with many things.
In a way, it is like the sense of fullness—there is so much there!: beautiful mountains, the garden, the river... You can feel very full with everything in life, or you can feel that there is nothing in it. We have the famous example of the glass half full or half empty; some people choose to look at the half-empty part (although perhaps it is not true that they choose it, perhaps they have been conditioned to see the empty part), and other people choose and try to see the full part, and there are other realized people who do not see the empty part, they only see that it is nonexistent, and that is life: experience depends on the level of realization.
When you practice following this method, even if visions appear, your understanding is different: you see that all visions are an illusion and you “realize the nature of the illusion that does not stop.”
The fifth way of seeking the nature of the mind is: “Seeking where the reflections come from.” If there is no mind, who is seeing the vision? Who is labeling it? Who is experiencing pleasure or pain? In the text Drops of the Heart of Dharmakaya, it is said: “If you look back at the state of the mind, you will see that everything is made by the mind. But if you look at the mind, you will see that the mind also does not seem to have independent existence. If the mind is not there, then who has given names to things and created the causes of existence? Therefore, the mind must exist, and everything else exists in dependence on the mind. Nothing exists independently of the mind.
Nothing exists beyond the natural state. The earth is not independent of the natural state; the stone is not independent of the natural state; visions are not independent visions. Everything is a vision [nang wa] that arises in the natural state.
The natural state is like a single point; the natural state is like the place where birds fly without leaving a trace. If you understand this, you will realize that the natural state is the creator of all things: it is the king of creators.”
In the Nyingma tradition, there is a famous Tantra that says this: “The king who makes everything happen; the king of creation, which is the natural state, is kunzhi gyalpo.” The mind creates everything: if you are very happy, it is your mind; if you are very sad, it is your mind; if you are depressed, it is your mind; if you are excited, it is your mind; if you feel lost, it is your mind; if you believe you have discovered something very great, it is your mind; if you believe you are full of ignorance, it is your mind. There is nothing but the mind, which is capable of playing many roles and having many experiences.
The natural mind is like a mirror. If a beautiful person passes in front of it, it is a reflection in the mirror; if an ugly person passes, it is another reflection in the mirror; if a person passes by complaining a lot, it is just the reflection in the mirror; if they pass by saying everything is wonderful, it is the reflection in the mirror. You can talk for a hundred years in front of the mirror, and the mirror will never say anything to you, it will not say: “Ah, what wonderful discussions you are having here!” nor “you are talking a lot of nonsense.” But you have many opportunities to judge yourself, as people usually do. For example, in the morning, the first thing you do is get up; then you see yourself as a ghost; you spend a lot of time fixing yourself up to look like a deity, and then you say: “This is an acceptable deity,” and you go out into the street. The mirror never said anything. The mirror did not say: “You look bad,” nor did it say: “Now you look good,” but you can talk to yourself in the mirror. The same happens with the mind:
... I am happy ... Well, you are happy ... I am sad ... Fine, you are sad ...
In a way, that happiness, or that sadness, is just the mind. You can have many experiences, but without being affected by them, and that would be our goal.
Imagine you have a camera, a mirror, and a very clear glass, and in front of these three things is a little monkey. What does the camera do? You click ... and the camera captures the exact image. And what does the mirror do? It reflects the image, but it does not capture it like the camera. If you take another photo with the camera without advancing the film, what happens? How will the monkey look? The image will be confused. The more superimposed photos you take, the more confused the image will be. Just as the image becomes very confused, we become confused when we see many things, hear many things, or have too many experiences without being able to process everything we receive; our mind becomes like a very defective camera. And what happens with the mirror? At every moment, every image that appears there, that is reflected there, is fresh, it does not mix with any other. And with the glass? There are no images there; through the glass, you can see the image that is behind it; there is space, and that is a different quality.
When you discover something conceptually, you are like the camera taking a photo: “Ah! I realized something.” But do not try to realize the same thing too many times, because the photo would be very confused. You have to be like the mirror: every time an image arises, that image has the potential to be erased. If you are a camera, you can say “PE!” 1000 times until your throat is sore, and the image will still be there anyway. So, you have to be like a mirror, or like glass, as you go through the process.
Awakened consciousness is like the mirror or the glass. When you are able to be like the glass or the mirror, you have good and bad experiences in life, but the experiences leave no trace on you; the mirror does not cling, and if nothing remains there, there is nothing that will affect you in the future: the mirror is ready and fresh for the new image, you are ready and fresh for the new experience.
It is not a problem “to have a problem”; the problem is to get stuck in it. Have as many problems as you want, but move on, do not get stuck in them; let them go, do not cling to them. Look at your clear and unclouded mind; the mind is clear, the problem is just passing through, think about that: the mind is unclouded. The problem is just a guest, but sometimes guests become bigger than yourself: you get hooked on what is passing through; but that is not what you really want. Do you want to be like the mirror? Do you want to remain more in your clear and unclouded mind? The nature of the mind is clear light; simply be that at all times.
Looking at the sky helps, looking at the light helps, looking at smiling people helps. So look in the right places, stay in the right places, look at the right people at the right time; avoid the wrong places, the wrong times, the wrong people, because if you are with the wrong people and in the wrong places and at the wrong time, it does not help you.
The sixth way of seeking the nature of the mind refers to the fact that “the nature of the mind cannot be thought, let alone be expressed in words. When you understand this, you recognize the natural state without thinking or speaking.”
The text Drops of the Heart of Dharmakaya says: “It could be said that if the natural state exists, then it must appear somewhere; but [when it is sought] nothing appears, therefore the natural state does not exist. It always is, leaving no trace in the past, present, or future. But even though the natural state does not appear, it is always there. This awakened consciousness is such that it can never be apprehended by thought, nor can it be named or shown in writing. If you try to show it through sounds or signs, you never arrive exactly at the nature of this awakened consciousness.”
The text continues: “It is like the experience of a mute person tasting sugar”; they are able to taste it, but cannot express it. And it is not that it tastes less to them than to us, they taste it the same; but they do not have the words to express that taste and do not feel the need to do so, it is enough for them to taste it; it is not like us: if we have an experience, we want everyone to know about it.
It is interesting to reflect on this: why do we have to talk about our experiences? And it is not just that we have to talk about them, talking is just the beginning; moreover, we want to label them: “It’s a good dream,” “it’s a bad dream,” “do I need to do something about it, or should I not worry about it? Please, answer me.” This is what we want. The purpose of the talk is to get an answer; you want someone, no matter who, to tell you: “Oh, yes, how great! It was a fantastic dream!” Some people are content with that answer; but some other unfortunate ones are not satisfied with that answer and wonder: “Why did I get a good dream?” And why not? Or: “Why did my wife have that kind of dream?” or “My husband never has those kinds of dreams, why me? Why do I deserve it?” Of course, this seems amazing to me; those people can continue the conversation indefinitely, and sometimes I wish I could change the channel in another direction, and if I did, perhaps then they would say: “My husband had such an experience; why didn’t I?” It is always this question of asking: “Why did I have such an experience, or why didn’t I have it?” The basic problem has nothing to do with whether the experience is good or bad. In Dzogchen, it is said: “A good thought or a bad thought is the same: get rid of it.” Get rid of confusion, of clinging to thought, and rest in the clear, unclouded space...
Here we are referring to the experience of the mute person and the sugar. When you have an experience and feel that you do not need to express it, you should feel happy about it. When you have an experience and feel that you need to talk about it, then remain conscious of this: guide it well, make it shorter, and conclude it as soon as possible. That would be the best way to express it.
When expressions are linked to energy, they have an impersonal quality. And if they are linked to emotions or the body, then they have more to do with personality.
Let us consider, for example, the concept of karma in Buddhism. Frequently, people believe in karma intensely; many of those people are ordinary people, who may not know or understand much, but they believe a lot in karma: karma is not a person, it is not male or female. If a Tibetan Buddhist, for example, has an accident, they will say: “Ah, it’s my karma!” In the West, on the other hand, many people would ask: “Whose karma is it?” (When I say: “It’s my karma,” this event is the result of a process that occurs through impersonal experiences, and one does not have to talk to anyone: it is karma.) Or, you can say: “Ah, I had an accident,” and the first thought is: “Whose fault is it?” and then you are not thinking about karma: “There are only two people here, and of course, it’s not my fault, it’s the other person’s, and I’m figuring out how to make sure it’s not my fault.” This is called personalizing the problem. It is as if you cannot process the problem unless you attribute it to others or to yourself.
It seems that we often do that. In cultures where karma is believed in, the problem does not have to be yours or mine, it can be ours. It is our karma, or it is Samsara. The problem exists, and it should not be given too much importance. We tend to make more of a problem out of the problem than it actually is.
The seventh way of seeking the nature of the mind. The text says: “The natural state does not exist in the material world.” The mind does not exist, it is not something you can catch, but it is not nonexistent because you cannot get rid of it. Or can you get rid of your mind? You can get out of a particular state of mind, but not out of the nature of the mind; so—I repeat—it does not exist because you cannot catch it, but it is not nonexistent either, because you cannot get rid of it. It is neither, because it is beyond existence and nonexistence.
This is paradoxical: the mind is nonexistent, because you cannot find it, because Buddha did not see it; the mind is not nonexistent, because you cannot lose it. Existence and nonexistence imply a clear sense of duality. In Buddhist epistemology, it is said: either it is existent or it is not; there is nothing intermediate between existence and nonexistence, a thing cannot be both existent and nonexistent at the same time.
In Dzogchen, it is not said that something is both existent and nonexistent at the same time: it is said that it is beyond existence or nonexistence. What does this mean? The existent and the nonexistent have to do with the subject and the object. The existent only exists because there is someone to perceive it. Something cannot exist without someone to perceive it. When there is someone to perceive it, there is a self. In the experience I am referring to here, there is no one to perceive. So there is no existence.
It is like realization that is beyond any elaboration: “the great unlimited mind, beyond any elaboration.” This is the seventh way.
The eighth way of seeking the nature of the mind says: “To the natural state, what do you call it? Is it important to name it? Is it necessary to name it?” For the conceptual mind, yes, it is. When we are named in a certain way, we are affected by how we are named. That is one of the greatest human conditionings, one of the most weakening, from childhood to adulthood. If, when you are a child, they tell you: “You are stupid,” you think: “I am stupid, I will develop my stupidity, and when I grow up, I will give you back all my stupid behavior.” That is what parents sometimes do: they name the child in this way, affecting them so much that when they become adolescents, they really behave stupidly.
Thus, parents have put a certain label on their children, and later the children manifest it. The point here is that when we are named in a certain way, we are affected by how we were named. The same applies to so-called certificates (your license, your degree): you are a doctor, you are a lawyer, you are a judge. All those labels we consider important. And what is said at this point is that they are not.
You can name anything, but no name will affect that which is. The only reason you name something is for you to understand it, not for it to become better or worse. As long as you require a name, have it. When you no longer need it, you can free yourself from it.
The text says: “When you understand this, you realize the nameless mind that is beyond thoughts.”
Denominations are created by thoughts: thoughts and denominations are related; if there were no thoughts, there would probably be fewer denominations.
Once, someone came to see me and said: “I have a serious problem, I have OCD.” I didn’t know what that was and asked: “What is that?” “It’s Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.” “So, what do you do?” I asked, and he replied: “I have to wash my hands, I have to bathe.” I said: “That’s great! If you touch anything, it’s good to wash, and it’s good to be clean.” He replied: “No, no! It’s that I wash too much.” And I told him: “That’s fine, you are cleaner than other people; there are people who don’t wash, who don’t even remember to wash, and they feel very comfortable.” I am not saying that all this cannot be a problem, but sometimes the way we label is the problem. In this case, this person is not saying that they bathe all day: they put a label on it and attribute it to themselves, and this becomes a problem, because by labeling it as a problem, they stabilize it as such, confirm it, reinforce it, seal it, and make it stronger and stronger. Their need for cleanliness is like our need to sleep, to eat, to rest: we cannot call it a problem. Basically, what I am saying here is that the problem lies in labeling.
This eighth point speaks of thought and words, and in Dzogchen, thought is something you always try to overcome; thought is what says, “Yes, it exists,” or “it does not exist,” or “it is in between.” That is why the text says: “Beyond thoughts and expression.”
So, what are you going to call that mind? It is not like the object of thoughts, so there is no way you can really call it; it is exhausted in the unnamable. You cannot demonstrate it with examples. So, how do you demonstrate it? The mind simply looks at itself instead of being seen through a name or through examples: it looks at itself directly. Saying “I experience it but I don’t know what to call it” is good; if you don’t know what to call it, that’s good. So you shouldn’t ask yourself what you should call it. When you experience something, you want to know what it is. Everyone asks questions: “I experienced this, what was it?” Generally, you mean: “Was it good, or bad? Should I leave it as it is, or should I not worry about it?” Those are the typical questions. It is difficult to leave the experience as it is.
Sometimes you say: “I don’t feel very well, I feel tired,” and that’s fine. But what do you do with it? You say: “What’s wrong with me? What problem do I have?” and you ask others: “Do you feel the same as me? Do we all feel the same? Is it the weather? Is it the energy of the place? Is it the teaching?” Again, we find ourselves in the same situation: we want to know. And the point is that you will not know why it is so, because you will not find any answer, but you will be quite busy looking for one, and that will tire you out, and you will get tired of not finding the reason why you are tired.
“Nameless,” says the text: “Experience oneself beyond concepts and names.”
So, we do not have to call it essence, nature, energy; the only reason we name it is to introduce ourselves to the subject; names are like a boat you board to reach the other side of the river: once you reach the other side of the river, you forget the boat.
The ninth and last says: “In the three times—past, present, and future—it has never been separate from you.”
If you seek the nature of the mind, you will not find it; if you do not seek it, you will not lose it either. Primordially, it is there, within you; it is yours, you are it, and you will never be lost.
The text says: “Can you find yourself?” No. You can say: “Where is my dog?” or “Where is the child?” but do you ever ask someone: “Where am I?”
“If you seek yourself, you will never find yourself.” In the nature of the mind, there is no notion of finding or losing; there is a sense of omnipresence within oneself.
There is a quote that says: “It never came, it never left, it is primordial in essence. It was never lost, it was never found, it is primordial within oneself. It was never sought, it will never be sought, there is no idea of finding the immutable essence that arises incessantly. When you look at it, you do not see it; when you stop looking, you find yourself in it.” Cherish these lines.
“Even if you seek or study nothing, the natural state is always with you from the beginning without limit. There is nothing to lose and nothing to find. If you seek within yourself, can you find it? Therefore, you should not speak of seeking the nature of the mind. From the beginning, it was always with you, it has never been separate from you. No other being can see the nature of your mind. It is always self-originated. When you realize this, you have realized the ‘Naked Essence, Dharmakaya.’”
Three methods of observing the nature of the mind
I have spoken of the nine methods for realizing the nature of the mind. There are also three methods for observation:
Where does the nature of the mind come from? Where does it remain? Where does it go? This can also be applied to questions we ask about our problems: Where do problems come from? Where do they remain? Where do they go? Or, about the images of the mind: Where do they come from? Where do they rest? And where do they go?
Where does the nature of the mind come from? First, look within yourself, let the experience of thought arise, and when it comes, see it as any thought, immediately look at the thought: where did it come from? There are two possibilities: from emptiness or from substance; from matter or from mind; from form or from space. If it comes from emptiness or space, observe: does it come from space? And search in all those aspects, in all places, in all characteristics from which you think it might come. You find nothing.
If you believe it comes from matter: does it come from external matter or internal matter? Does this thought come from the mountain, the tree, the river, the rocks? You keep searching and find that it does not come from any mountain, tree, river, or rock. And if you search inside and believe it comes from somewhere like an organ, or from the intestines, simply look inside and you will find nothing.
When you search outside and find nothing, and look inside and also find nothing, who is searching? Is there any substance that is the one searching? Does it have any color? Is it just one, or are there many searching? And you search, search, and find nothing: the subject completely dissolves. When you search and find no place from which the rigpa comes, who is observing where it comes from?
So there is no object in the place from which it comes, and you also cannot find the subject who is searching for it; therefore, you remain in that place where there is only space. You feel and experience, but there is nothing to find, and when you find nothing, there is nothing to talk about. You remain in that silence where there are no words, you can rest in that silence where there are no words to express. Like the mute person experiencing a dream of sugar and having no words to express it nor the desire to express it with words: what they can do is rest in that fullness, without being conditioned by words or by their perspective.
In commenting on the nine ways of recognizing the nature of the mind, I related them to the experiences during the path and during the result. Now we are on the path: we are practitioners, we are practicing. And when you are on the path and have this experience, it is called “unlimited perspective.” In the result, that is, when we attain enlightenment, it is called “the unborn or unoriginated realization of the Bön or Dharmakaya.”
But this unlimited perspective does not disappear when you attain enlightenment; that experience continues; it is not that it stops and you obtain something else. That state of mind, when you attain liberation, is called unborn Dharmakaya— Bön—since Dharmakaya implies the notion of the unborn, of immutability. Unborn, limitless: these are the characteristics of Dharmakaya. The characteristics of Sambhogakaya are different: it is incessant, self-clarified, spontaneous.
In reality, there is no place from which these experiences come: they manifest by themselves. They are emptiness and they dissolve into emptiness. When you do not look at them, what you see is nakedness. When you look at them, you see nothing: that is unborn Dharmakaya. In this way, we conclude with the first method of observation.
Where does it remain? Where does it stay?
You continue with the search: “Where does my experience, my anger, my sensation remain? Where is it, where does it stay?” And when you search, you find nothing.
You can go from the grossest to the most detailed and subtle, and in the same way, you can ask: “Can I find a physical location? If there is a physical location, what is it? Where are my thoughts? In my liver, in my kidney...?” You search every part of the body for where the thought is and do not find it anywhere.
If you look for it externally, is your thought sitting, resting under a tree? Or above the tree? Or inside the tree? Or around the tree? You search, search, and search, and you go outward: is it hiding from you, or is it resting somewhere? You do not find it.
So, when you do not find that thought remaining or resting anywhere, either internally or externally, immediately the next search is: who is searching? And, following the same process, you ask yourself: “Is the observer inside the body, or is it outside?”
If you feel it is in the body, you have to search for it in the body meticulously, and if you believe it is outside, then you have to go and search there in great detail, to the point where you do not find the observer at all.
This process is very important. Generally, the psychological method presents a problem: from the point of view of therapy, the question always asked is: “Am I thinking incorrectly? Am I acting incorrectly? Am I not interacting correctly?” but in fact, we never ask ourselves: “Who is it that thinks this way of thinking or acting is incorrect?” That question is left out. And, of course, it is very important that we ask ourselves that. If you think you are acting wrongly, who thinks you are acting wrongly? Perhaps the problem lies more in that than in the act of acting wrongly. Having a problem is not a big deal, but having a problem with the problem, or being stuck in it, is a bigger problem. In theory, you search and search; but the question constantly arises: “Who is it that searches?”
Images come to mind that illustrate this very well:
When you look outward and search externally, you find nothing. What you find is space, there is only space. Suddenly, you realize that there are no more places to search, and the only thing that matters now is: who is searching? Using the same method, you search internally, and what do you find? Light, awakened consciousness.
Before, you did not perceive this luminosity; what there was was the judging mind. Now, this mind is not the judging mind: it is the mind that discovers space, that discovers openness. When you look at the mind that discovered space, you see that the mind is luminosity. Remember this: wisdom arose at that moment; remember it: it arises when you look inward, when you perceive the light.
In relation to the search for the place from which thoughts come, during the path, this experience is called “unlimited perspective.” In relation to the search for who is observing, during the path, the experience is called “spontaneous meditation.” And during the result, it is called: “the incessant body of fullness.” What Sambhogakaya means is incessant: the experience of light, which is an incessant experience. Incessant is a characteristic related to light: light is infinite; infinite means incessant.
I try to use specific terminology. I come from a background where I received training in epistemology and logic; words are very important to me, and I use them very consistently. When I say “infinite” in relation to light, I do so because that word has a very specific meaning. When I say “unlimited space,” that also has a very specific meaning. In fact, there is nothing wrong with saying “unlimited light”; but that is not precisely the characteristic of light.
When you are searching for where it remains, who remains there? What remains becomes spontaneously clear: clear and luminous. This clarity and luminosity are called “spontaneous clarity and luminosity.” Spontaneous means that no one did anything for it to arise.
This is how it is with a problem: you simply search for who created the problem, but you do not find the creator of the problem, you only find light if you search in the correct way. When you search incorrectly, you do find the author of the problem, and you will spend a lot of time with them. It is not about what you found, but how you are seeing it, or rather, who is seeing it. If the problem sees the problem, it will never be solved; if the solution sees the problem, there is a chance it will be solved.
Where does it go? If you were not very successful in the previous two searches, you will not be very successful in the third either.
Here, the apparent failure of not finding is a great success, because every time you have searched for something, you have not found it, but you have found something else, something different. In Tibet, it is said: “If you lose the yak, you look for the yak; if you don’t find the yak, what do you find? The absence of the yak.” So you no longer have a problem with the yak. If you try to find a problem and find nothing, that is good. If you try to find the author of the problem in the mind and do not find it, that is also good.
When you search for a problem, you find space. When you search for the author of the problem, you find light. And the union of space and light is very important.
The first process helped the second. If you have good space, you can have good light. Probably an architect would understand this easily: the way you create space influences the light. The third process consists of searching where it goes.
Thought comes and goes, and the question that interests you now is: where has it gone?
It is the same search: does it go towards matter, or towards space?
If it is towards matter, does it go towards internal matter? Is my thought in my lung, or in my heart? Or does it go towards external matter? Did it go to the tree, the lake, or the river? It is self-clarified, arises by itself, remains in itself, and liberates itself. The experience is very similar: you cannot find it. And when you search for the one who is searching, the same happens, you do not find them either.
During the path, that experience is called “action without a trace.” That sounds like a good spy who leaves no trace, who leaves no trail behind: there are no footprints of their journey. Now, in the world we live in, with your name, your credit card number, your social security number... every time you use one of those numbers—the number that identifies you—you leave a trace behind. When you do not use the number that identifies you, your passage is clean, you leave no trace, no one knows you passed by. That is the action of the yogi: the yogi can laugh for an hour in the morning, cry for an hour at noon, shout for an hour at night, and the next morning they are completely fresh. That laughter, that crying, that shouting, does not continue the next morning.
These are called trace-free actions, actions without a trace. Healthy, confident, strong people are not so affected by experiences; the experience comes and goes, they do not cling to it. If the person is weak, they have to work hard to overcome it.
During the result, action without a trace is called non-dual Nirmanakaya, non- dual emanation, the incarnation of manifestation.
If you have an action without a trace, you are capable of doing a lot. If at noon you do not worry about the morning’s problem, then you are capable of more creativity. The characteristic of Nirmanakaya is the ability to manifest many bodies at different times, in different places. This is the idea of Nirmanakaya: imagine the manifestation of Buddha in many different places at the same time. Can you imagine yourself in ten different places, in ten different eras, and active? It is difficult to imagine. We will do it when we are enlightened.
Let us focus on the level of samsara. There are people who are capable of doing many things; they do their practice, they do their studies, they do a hundred thousand businesses, and they have different circles of friends among whom there is no relationship, but they are capable of interacting with everyone, and when it comes to meditating, they are great meditators, and if they engage in business, they are very successful. Imagine that you have the capacity to carry out this diversity of activities. This is the characteristic of Nirmanakaya. The only reason someone is capable of doing this is because one of their manifestations does not affect the other. And why does this happen? Because they are not clinging to a specific characteristic, they are not carrying it over to the other situation; their mind is clean and unclouded. It is like what happens with the five senses: you watch a movie, you hear sounds, you see images, you eat your popcorn, you feel the warmth of your clothes, and the senses are not in conflict with each other. The sense of hearing does not say: “Please, do not watch those images, let me listen and do not distract me,” nor does taste say: “Stop the movie, stop the sound, let me eat my popcorn.” No, that does not happen. The consciousness of the sense of taste or hearing is not saying this because the consciousness of each sense is complementing the others, it is complementing the totality of being, receiving the totality of information, without one interfering with the other. Why? Because they are senses and they do not have thoughts, they are not conceptual. If they were, they would affect each other.