VKR Teachings Online

Public Talk: New York City Shambhala Center
October 20, 1998

Page 4: Emptiness Nature

Buddhist philosophy talks about illusory nature, or emptiness; and again and again, its texts go into deeper understanding of "emptiness nature." But emptiness nature doesn’t need to be understood in a complicated way. It simply says that everything we hold to be true, real, or solid is, in fact, composite and doesn’t have any independent existence on its own.

We can look at outer objects or we can look at ourselves–at that strongest of attachments, [our] sense of "I." The ego, or I, is always there. Most of you are familiar with how analytical meditation pinpoints that certain thing called "I." We find that wherever we look–outside or inside, in any part of our body or organs–no matter where we search, in reality we cannot find anything that is independent, [nothing] that can be called an independent "self," or "I."

So we walk around with a false notion that "I" in some way exists. Logically, we gather together the compositeness of body, as well as mind and consciousness, karma, and habitual patterns, and we assume there’s an "I." And yet [when we] really examine it, "I" and our strong grasping to its self existence is no different than the notion of the existence of my horns. So we can see that "emptiness nature" is simply talking about that nature which is "empty," and yet with its composite quality, has the [potential for] action, for some kind of activity.

All the texts talk about resting the mind in the absolute true nature, the true nature of emptiness. And within the Buddhist tradition, we find 84,000 tenet teachings [on emptiness]. Then over the last 2,600 years of Buddhism, we find more explanations and texts expounding different details of these 84,000 tenets. So hundreds of thousands of teachings are available on emptiness. I think nowhere in the history of any civilization is there a more complicated method to explain what emptiness is! (Laughter.) [It is] a clear example of how our mind really wants something to be there (laughter).

We find every teacher trying to explain what emptiness is and talking about the same things over and over: no shape, no color, no form, no feeling, no touch–no nothing (laughter). I sometimes feel tremendously touched and grateful to all of these teachers: in no other way could anyone explain more kindly what emptiness is. When a teacher sits and sees no form, no feeling, no touch, no sensation, no color, no shape–there’s really no other way to support that in speech than to try and explain about not making it complicated, keeping it simple.

When complexity is added, illusion grows, [and] things become more trapped in action and reaction, in cause and fruition. Illusion–whatever we may call it–simply grows out of making [emptiness] complex, making it difficult. Spiritual practice, such as buddhist meditation, should lead towards cutting through complexity and resting the mind in an understanding of absolute truth. Then something can be understood. And today’s meditators–especially in the West where so much practice is going on–need to understand that.

When [absolute truth] is understood, then you will really be practicing sincerely. If you can remain with that understanding, the spiritual path has some meaning–without any pretense of being a meditator, or of being on any particular path of practice. From the moment you sit in meditation, you realize that what you’re trying to achieve is simply the first basic responsibility of being a human being, being honest to yourself and honest towards others.

From that honesty, you’re able to understand complete genuineness in every action. If you have a body, you fulfill the responsibilities of having a human body, and [you] do not harm anyone else. If you achieve some happiness for yourself, in the midst of your own happiness, you generate as much or greater happiness as you can for others. If you have speech, you’re responsible for your speech and you don’t hurt or inflict harm on anyone else through speech. And you take care of your own mind, generating thoughts that are useful. Simple common sense tells us that if a thought is useless, meaningless, or harmful, and not at all good for anyone else, you shouldn’t generate that [thought]. So, you’re able to really train your body, speech, and mind–and you are able to see what is left.

If you do not harm anyone with your body, speech, or mind, what else remains? That remaining nature is a spiritual meditator. You may not be very busy doing very intricate, complicated things, but even if you were doing the most complex studies of Buddhism, you should end up that way. And, if a beginning meditator can begin that way and that is the end [result], if you choose to go through all the 84,000 tenets for millions of years to reach that same point, it’s very much your own choice! (Laughter.) The more you practice in this way, the more you understand Buddhism. I think it is necessary to do that.

I recall times when we would go to our teachers, [wanting] to receive the most complicated teachings, the most challenging instructions, and heart essence teachings. These were always very tempting. But when teachers would talk on the Four Reminders, most of the time we wouldn’t attend. We knew them already: we knew human life was very precious, we knew impermanence was there (laughter), we knew about cause and effect and the suffering of sentient beings. So we would wait for the most challenging topics to come up. But if we think about it, all of those challenging, complicated philosophies, views, meditations, and different paths of practices are meant to [make us] really tired of doing them, really tired of trying to see. (Laughter.) So [while] there’s real benefit from them, in some sense they’re ways to tame the really untamed ones.

The way to [practice] is to truly come back and understand that within the First Noble Truth–the truth of suffering–is the entirety of all the teachings of all three yanas. One who doesn’t understand and appreciate this human life, who never realizes its potential for so much goodness, who is unable to fulfill all of its responsibilities, and doesn’t understand the value of human life–such a person cannot truly generate any compassion for [other] sentient beings.