The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (70 page)

T
HERE HAS BEEN
much mention of Avalokiteshvara throughout the centuries, particularly in mahayana Buddhist countries. And this Avalokiteshvara, or Lokeshvara, or Kesarpani, is a well-known figure in Buddhist texts, such as the
Prajnaparamita-hridaya (The Heart of Transcendent Wisdom
, or the
Heart Sutra)
, where Avalokiteshvara represents supreme compassion and Shariputra represents supreme wisdom, and they are having a discussion which is said to be the word of Buddha. This is one of the twelve different ways in which Buddha’s teaching is presented. That is to say that Buddha created the situation, but these two actually speak in place of him.

So Avalokiteshvara plays a very important part. It is not just a mythical concept, it is not a deity, it is not even a bodhisattva in the sense of somebody on the path to enlightenment, but Avalokiteshvara is a mahasattva. In the Chinese Buddhist tradition Avalokiteshvara appears in feminine form and in Tibetan tradition in masculine form. Nevertheless this is one and the same Avalokiteshvara. Let me make clear that there is a mandala of Avalokiteshvara; it contains a whole mandala. This is why differences appear between the feminine and masculine principles. And the meaning of Avalokiteshvara is shown in various sutras, such as the
Sadharmapundarika
, where Avalokiteshvara appears as the personification of the enlightened state of mind. So Avalokiteshvara is the awakened mind. But this awakened mind, or bodhi, is not just highly intelligent or all-knowing, but it also contains compassion, which is one of the most important aspects of the awakened state.

Compassion, in this particular sense, does not mean being compassionate to a person, or being sympathetic, or collecting charity—one has to go beyond this. Now compassion in this sense, or karuna, is known in Tibet as the noble heart, that is to say the magnetic or the moving quality of enlightenment. So enlightenment, or bodhi, consists of movement and it consists of wisdom. These two qualities are the most important of all. So when one talks about wisdom, omniscience, clarity, or bodhi—the thought of enlightenment—this is represented by Manjushri, the Maker of All Sound, the Maker of the Word. In the recitation of the sacred name in the
Manjushri Sutra
it is explained that Manjushri is “ah”—the first word of human beings. Similarly, the first movement, the first flow of love, the first forwardness, is Avalokiteshvara.

Obviously, then, the idea of Avalokiteshvara is a profound subject. In Indian mythology Avalokiteshvara is regarded as a god; Lokite means the Lord of the World, and Avalokiteshvara means Transcendent Protector, or Lord, of the World. And the meaning of this is that one cannot conquer the world, one cannot become “the Lord of the World,” unless there is “Ava”—the transcendent form, which is compassion. And this compassion is not just one kind of compassion, it has many different aspects, different dimensions. Just as an atom, no matter how minute it may be, can be divided into a center and north, south, east, west, above, and below, so also compassion has different sides to it or different aspects. Thus we have the feminine aspect, or the aspect of quickness. As mentioned earlier, this has nothing to do with compassion in the sense of feeling love for someone or having charitable feelings, but relates rather to rhythm, to movement, to forwardness. So the quickness of compassion is represented by Avalokiteshvara in the feminine form, which is particularly well known in the Japanese and the Chinese traditions, perhaps owing to some association with the character of these nations, which is very active. The other aspect is the male Avalokiteshvara, which is associated with solidity and stability. Hence the figure of Avalokiteshvara is often shown holding a jewel, which represents the noble stone. And this Avalokiteshvara is sometimes referred to as the Son Avalokiteshvara, which represents strength, stability, and oneness. For wherever there is great force there must also be great stability. For example, in the case of lightning, without this stability the quick movement of lightning would not be sharp and direct and powerful as it is. Therefore this movement within stillness occurs and these are the two principle aspects of Avalokiteshvara. And the male form of Avalokiteshvara is known in Tibetan as Chenrezik (or “Glancing Eye,” as one translator has it) and this means “He Who Sees All Sentient Beings.” But he does not move. He merely sees or observes and he never makes a mistake. He just looks, in all directions, and prepares for the next compassionate act.

The feminine aspect of Avalokiteshvara is the six-syllable Avalokiteshvara,
OM MANI PADME HUM
. This, of course, represents the sound or the movement of Avalokiteshvara—something which moves, something which goes forward. So the sound represents the feminine part of Avalokiteshvara and the male part is the compassionate thought, stillness, wisdom, the deep-rooted one, which is particularly revered in the Tibetan tradition. Therefore we see these two particular aspects of Avalokiteshvara.

Nevertheless, this idea of compassion is in fact the warmth within enlightenment. Enlightenment must have warmth, enlightenment must have this willingness-to-do-everything. Of course it must have prajna, it must have jnana, but there must also be karuna. And that willingness, that being-ready-to-move, is essentially what Avalokiteshvara represents.

In stories and in images Avalokiteshvara is often shown carrying a deerskin on his back. This symbol is used because the deer is a compassionate animal. It does not kill other creatures, but lives on a vegetarian diet. And here Avalokiteshvara appears as a sage. For in the Indian tradition sages often carry their seat on their shoulders when they are traveling, and when they want to sit down they simply spread this on the floor and sit on it. In this particular case the deerskin symbolizes harmlessness, that is to say, the act of compassion. When compassion acts it never harms, it never hurts anyone, but always moves gently forward in order to fulfill its purpose.

On top of Avalokiteshvara’s crown one sees the figure of Amitabha. This is because compassion must also have the attribute of wisdom, of clarity, which Amitabha represents. And one often finds Avalokiteshvara portrayed as having a thousand arms, and these symbolize his innumerable activities. There is a story about Avalokiteshvara which relates how he took a vow to save all sentient beings in that very lifetime; and he did whatever he could and then went up and looked around, and he saw that even more innumerable beings were suffering. At this point he was almost on the verge of breaking his vow and he felt that he could not help anyone any more. This is compassion without wisdom, compassion without knowing. It is also compassion with ambition, a one-faced compassion. And this is one of the reasons why Avalokiteshvara is often shown with a figure of Buddha above his head, which means that compassion must be without ambition. It must also be ever-growing. As long as there are more sentient beings and as long as there is more that needs to be done, his compassion also increases. And this shows that compassion is something within us. Where there is new suffering or a new outbreak of violence, that violence contains another eye, another hand, of Avalokiteshvara. The two things always go together. There is always a kind of negative, but there is always a positive which comes with it. In this particular sense, then, one should not exclude the negative and work only for the positive, but realize that the negative contains the positive within itself. Therefore the act of compassion, the act of Avalokiteshvara, is never ended.

That is the basic meaning of Avalokiteshvara. Of course, there are variations, such as Kesarpani, the eleven-headed Avalokiteshvara, the four-armed Avalokiteshvara, Chintamani, and many other variations, which are to be found in different scriptures and iconographies. Nevertheless, they all stem from one source, namely the concept of Avalokiteshvara as representing compassion. He is not only a bodhisattva, he is a mahasattva, or great being—the great sattva. That is to say that nobody can become a sattva until he has fully developed compassion. Therefore it is stated in many of the sutras, shastras, and tantras, including the
Lankavatara Sutra
and the
Uttaratantra
, that compassion is the companion of wisdom. Wisdom has depth and clarity, but it also needs to act. And that action is a perpetual forward movement. It never turns back having lost its purpose but goes on continuously, like the traveling of light. Light never returns but always goes on and on and on. Similarly, this active part of the awakened state which is in all of us, that is Avalokiteshvara, or compassion. There is an interesting passage in the
Bodhisattvacharyavatara
where Shantideva describes even the love of a fierce animal for its young as an element of compassion. Compassion comes in all sorts of different ways, in a physical way, in a mental way, perhaps in a primitive way, for Avalokiteshvara has many hands and many eyes; he reaches everywhere and he sees everywhere.

The Way of the Bodhisattva

I
N THE NORTHERN
Buddhist countries, Tibet, China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and so on, one of the essential characteristics is the mahayana concept of the active bodhisattva.

First let us deal with taking the bodhisattva vow. It is always necessary that the person who wants to follow the bodhisattva path must start from the beginning, from the level of hinayana. This is fundamental. No mahayanist would be given bodhisattva ordination unless he first took the triple refuge in the Buddha, dharma, and sangha, and secondly he practiced meditation, consisting of the general samatha and vipassana practice.

Bodhisattva practice therefore is based on the discipline of the hinayana, which prepares the sila paramita, or discipline ground, because the act of the bodhisattva is sometimes described as the act of freedom. In order to realize the freedom element, one must first have a discipline. Otherwise the freedom becomes a selfish freedom, or wild. Having understood that people who follow the bodhisattva order must achieve a certain amount of quietness—stillness of mind—through the practice of shamatha, he will probably start with the anapanasatti practice of counting breathing, or concentration on the rising and falling of the breath; or practicing awareness of actions, or mental concentration on one of the thirty-six parts of the body, and various other hinayana methods of meditation. Then, having developed a firm foundation of quietness—abiding in the peace—the bodhisattva develops insight, and that is the first entrance to bodhisattva work.

This development of wisdom, insight, is the development, one might say, of the bodhi nature, or the essence of bodhi. And this essence of bodhi is the discovery that within the continuity of mindfulness there is a kind of natural state of mindfulness, a natural state of beingness. As his discipline becomes more and more perfect and he is able to concentrate fully, he realizes that he does not need to concentrate any more; the concentration develops within him. And that element of recognition of concentration, recognition of a natural state of concentration, is what is known as the insight of bodhi.

Whenever anyone takes a bodhisattva vow, he undertakes that from that day until the attainment of enlightenment he will help all sentient beings, because at this particular stage, when he reaches a perfect stillness of mind, then his stillness of mind reflects outside. We can easily understand this, because people who are naturally aggressive create a kind of aggressiveness; and people who are naturally proud—spiritually proud or proud in the ordinary sense—also radiate a kind of pride in the atmosphere they create. They somehow reduce other people to nothing, and produce a kind of space between other people and themselves. So radiation of character always comes in. So in the bodhisattva act, when he is following the hinayana level of mindfulness and achieves this quietness, this stillness of mind, he cannot help also helping others, even by example, by what they see of his behavior. He automatically radiates a serenity to other people; and therefore taking the bodhisattva vow is merely overcoming any selfish attitude attaching to this, and acknowledging that this radiation of the peaceful mind in the bodhisattva does not belong to him anymore, it belongs to other sentient beings. So he does not possess any good qualities at all.

In other words, it is one of the most essential things in the practice or realization of bodhi that you must completely surrender your desire to want to become and your desire to achieve. Until you surrender these you cannot achieve anything, because achievement of bodhi is not an external object, an external achievement; it is the discovery of something
in
one; and in order to make it come inward, one has first to surrender, give up the external desire to go out, to want to achieve further, to want to go higher. So therefore the bodhisattva deliberately—this has a psychological implication—he deliberately gives up the desire to become a buddha, the desire to become a perfect person, the desire to practice mindfulness, and the desire to work and meditate in his own personal way—he gives it up completely; so whatever he does becomes for others.

But that does not mean neglecting himself. In fact he develops greater awareness in himself, because in order to help others he must become fully aware all the time. Because he really acts as a kind of mirror, he must be perfectly clean and clear. This of course stabilizes the bodhisattva’s act, so that he is not emotionally involved, since he is not acting out of personal ambition at all; and therefore he becomes detached, like a doctor doing an operation. In this way the bodhisattva is detached from his own personal achievement, and when there is no personal achievement you have what is known as the true type of shunyata, that is the shunyata, or the anatta, or discovery of selflessness. You are not you anymore at all—you are simply a channel for other people. That is the first discovery of anatta, where the bodhisattva has gone through all the study of the five skandhas and the development of mental states, and therefore he is well versed in the knowledge; but nevertheless he discovers that his work has nothing to do with himself and is entirely for others. That is why the bodhisattva’s work never returns. His work is always moving forward. It is said that even in a state of sleep or a neutral state, or when eating or in any other state, the bodhisattva act continues and his merit is continuously growing, and this is because his act is not based on any form of self. His work is completely for others, therefore this openness, this nonpossessiveness of his act, becomes greater, the field of merit becomes wider, not excluding anything at all.