Good Karma

NOW WE WILL begin the actual text. Please read the verses and explanation slowly. Stop and think about each verse: see if it makes sense logically and make examples of how it pertains to your life. Reflect on each verse from the perspective of cyclic existence and the law of karma and its effects as described above.

Homage to the Three Jewels!

This is the wheel of sharp weapons striking at the vital points of the enemy.

Homage to the wrathful Yamantaka!

Dharmarakshita begins by paying homage to the Three Jewels: the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. The Dharma Jewel—the true cessation of duhkha (suffering or unsatisfactory circumstances) and its causes and the true path leading to that—is the real refuge because actualizing the true cessation and true path in our mindstreams is what actually protects us from misery. The Buddha taught the path to achieve those cessations, and for this reason he is the supreme teacher or guide for us sentient beings. The Sangha Jewel consists of all those who have direct realization of the nature of reality and in that way become reliable friends on the path.

Our relationship with the Three Jewels is similar to that of a sick person with a doctor, medicine, and nurse. We are the sick person suffering from the pain of cyclic existence: birth, aging, sickness, death, not getting what we like, being separated from what we find desirable, and experiencing problems that we don’t want. We want to be well but are ignorant about the cause of our illness and the treatment that will cure it. The Buddha is the doctor who diagnoses the causes of the illness of cyclic existence—ignorance, afflictions, and polluted karma. He then prescribes the medicine of the Dharma—ethical conduct, concentration, wisdom, love, compassion, and altruism. The sangha are the nurses who encourage us and help us take the medicine. This is the way the Three Jewels guide us to spiritual health.

When faced with an attack, warriors seek to strike at the vital points of the enemy to kill him or her and stop the harm that person is causing. For bodhisattvas seeking full awakening, the vital points to eradicate are the self-grasping ignorance that grasps persons and phenomena as existing with their own inherent essence, and its accomplice, the self-centered attitude that considers our own happiness and suffering to be more important than those of everyone else. The teachings in this poem form the wheel of sharp weapons that will strike at and kill these sources of misery.

Dharmarakshita then pays homage to Yamantaka, the wrathful form of Manjushri, the buddha of wisdom. While Manjushri’s appearance is peaceful and compassionate, Yamantaka’s is extremely fierce. His body is dark blue, and he has nine heads and thirty-four arms that hold weapons and bodily parts of his foes. His sixteen legs trample various animals and worldly gods. He stands amid a raging fire and roars like terrifying thunder.

Yamantaka, whose name means “Vajra Terrifier of the Lord of Death,” counteracts the enemy of death in cyclic existence. To stop death, the last of the twelve links of dependent arising, we must eradicate the first link, ignorance, from which arises the karma causing rebirth in cyclic existence. While phenomena exist dependent on other things, such as their causes and their parts, ignorance apprehends them as existing with an independent nature. Realizing that phenomena have a dependent nature, wisdom negates their having an independent or inherent nature. Because wisdom sees things as they really are, it is capable of overcoming and eventually completely eradicating ignorance so that it can never arise again.

When peacocks roam through the jungle of virulent poison,

Though the gardens of medicinal plants are attractive,

The flocks of peacocks will not take delight in them;

For peacocks thrive on the essence of virulent poison.

Likewise when heroes (bodhisattvas) enter the jungle of cyclic existence,

Though the gardens of happiness and prosperity may seem beautiful,

The heroes will not become attached to them,

For heroes thrive in the jungle of suffering.

In this poetic metaphor, peacocks symbolize the great bodhisattvas, the jungle represents cyclic existence, and the virulent poisons are the afflictions, especially the three poisons of ignorance, anger, and attachment. Although the peacocks have the opportunity to enjoy medicinal gardens, they are not captivated by the beauty and shun them in favor of poisonous plants. While they live in treacherous jungles and eat poisonous plants, peacocks are not harmed by these. Instead they thrive, and their feathers take on the beautiful colors that draw us to them.

In the same way, arya bodhisattvas—those who have the wisdom directly perceiving reality—could choose to enter nirvana and be forever free from cyclic existence. However, due to their strong compassion and bodhicitta, they choose not to stay in the state of personal peace and voluntarily take birth in cyclic existence. Although they appear in cyclic existence, these bodhisattvas are not overwhelmed by the afflictions that cause repetitive rebirth. Instead, they thrive on the afflictions that have not yet been totally cleansed from their mind and transform these mental poisons into the path to full awakening. For this reason they are called heroes. Arya bodhisattvas are not seduced by the joys and pleasures of cyclic existence, but steadily continue on the path, happily enduring whatever hardships they encounter for the noble aim of attaining buddhahood and thus being able to benefit all sentient beings most effectively. They practice until all their afflictive obscurations and cognitive obscurations are eradicated due to the force of the wisdom realizing the ultimate truth supported by bodhicitta.

The Mahayana path leading to full awakening has five paths: the paths of accumulation, preparation, seeing, meditation, and no-more-learning. Lower bodhisattvas, who are on the paths of accumulation and preparation, have not yet realized emptiness directly or begun to eradicate defilements. The great bodhisattvas who are spoken of in verses 1 and 2 are on the third and fourth paths: the paths of seeing and meditation. On the path of seeing, they have their first direct, nonconceptual realization of the ultimate nature of phenomena—the emptiness of inherent existence. They strengthen this realization on the path of meditation. On these two paths, they use this wisdom to eradicate the two obscurations, the afflictive obscurations and the cognitive obscurations, from their mindstream.

Afflictive obscurations consist of ignorance, afflictions (such as attachment, anger, arrogance, jealousy, and so forth), and their seeds, as well as the polluted karma causing rebirth in cyclic existence. The afflictive obscurations prevent liberation from cyclic existence. Cognitive obscurations are more subtle and difficult to eliminate. Consisting of the latencies of ignorance and the dualistic appearance they cause, cognitive obscurations impede attaining the full awakening of a buddha.

Due to having directly and nonconceptually realized emptiness and thus begun the process of uprooting ignorance, arya bodhisattvas no longer create polluted karma. They create unpolluted karma, which is motivated by bodhicitta and acts as a cause for them to attain full awakening. After arya bodhisattvas become buddhas, they no longer create karma at all. Buddhas’ actions are called “awakening activities”—their spontaneous and effortless actions that continuously benefit sentient beings by leading them on the path to awakening.

We ordinary beings differ from great bodhisattvas because we are seduced by the pleasures of cyclic existence. Our first thoughts in the morning usually center on “How can I experience pleasure today?” The images of a cup of coffee, a hot shower, and breakfast get us out of bed. Most of the things we do during the day are similarly fueled by self-centered thought, seeking our own pleasure and happiness. Although we may not verbalize it, our motivation is “If there is happiness and advantage, I’ll take it; if there are problems, others can have them.” Although this may sound crass, if we look closely, we will see that these are the kinds of thoughts our ignorant and self-preoccupied minds latch onto.

Completely caught up with the eight worldly concerns, we see cyclic existence as a garden of happiness and and delight in playing in it. In the process, we act in harmful ways, creating the karmic seeds that bind us to cyclic existence. Again and again we take a body that gets old, sick, and dies, and a mind that is constantly dissatisfied.

Arya bodhisattvas see through the glittering appearance of cyclic existence as a garden of happiness. Seeing its deceptive quality, they know it is actually a hellhole. Instead of running after the glitter of sense pleasure, prestige, or romance, they seek a higher type of happiness and a deeper purpose in life. Having realized the three principal aspects of the path—(1) renunciation of duhkha and the causes of duhkha, (2) the altruistic intention of bodhicitta that seeks full awakening for the benefit of all beings, and (3) the correct view of reality—they are able to manifest in cyclic existence but not be beguiled by it. They have the ability to transform afflictions into the path to awakening.

In the Sutrayana—the path described in the discourses (sutras) spoken by the Buddha—bodhisattvas do not actually take the afflictions as the path, but use them to do things that benefit others. For example, they may have children who grow up to be bodhisattvas and spread the Dharma. On the Tantrayana—the path taught by the Buddha in the tantras—bodhisattvas actually take the energy of attachment and transform it into the path. This is a much deeper level of practice.

Those who avidly pursue happiness and prosperity

Are brought to suffering due to their cowardice.

The bodhisattvas, who willingly embrace suffering,

Always remain happy due to their heroism.

Motivated by clinging attachment and greed, we ordinary beings avidly pursue happiness and prosperity. Trying to find security, we want others to meet our needs. By aggressively trying to control others or surreptitiously manipulating them, we try to arrange the world and everyone in it to be the way we want them to be. However, we are never successful in doing this and remain perpetually dissatisfied.

In cyclic existence we experience three types of unsatisfactory circumstances, or duhkha. The duhkha of pain—physical and mental pain that no one likes—is easy to renounce. Even animals do not like it. However, the duhkha of change—what we ordinary beings usually call “happiness”—is difficult for us to give up because we think it is real joy. When we get what we want—a promotion, a new home, a romantic relationship, an award—we believe that to be genuine happiness. However, it if were real happiness, it wouldn’t disappear, and the object or person that brings us joy one day would not be problematic the next. The duhkha of pervasive conditioning—having a body and mind under the control of ignorance, afflictions, and polluted karma—is even more difficult to relinquish because we do not think of it as undesirable. Quite the opposite, we cling to our body as the basis of our identity and the source of much of our pleasure.

The cowardice that brings us suffering refers to our clinging attachment, a mental factor that seeks happiness through obtaining external possessions, relationships, praise, status, and so on. This craving prevents us from facing the unsatisfactory nature of our existence and the disadvantages of greed and attachment. Instead, we are attracted to the pleasures of cyclic existence, create more karma by pursuing them, and as a result are repeatedly reborn. We are cowardly in the sense that we are afraid to see attachment for what it is. We fear that if we don’t follow our attachment, we won’t have any happiness at all. Due to our cowardice in facing the reality of the situation, we are brought to suffering.

Great bodhisattvas are the opposite. They are heroic in that they stand up to their craving and refrain from chasing after samsaric happiness. In addition, they do not fear the duhkha of cyclic existence in the same way we ordinary beings do. We fear the first kind of duhkha but happily embrace the second and third, while bodhisattvas want to be free of all three. But if they are faced with experiencing pain in order to benefit others, they will happily do that, whereas we run away. Bodhisattvas’ “fear” of cyclic existence is not the panicky, anxious fear that plagues ordinary beings who seek to avoid discomfort. Theirs is a wise awareness of danger that propels them to practice the path and liberate themselves from cyclic existence. Such a fear of cyclic existence is useful on the path as it instigates us to study and practice the Dharma.

Unlike common beings, bodhisattvas willingly undergo suffering for a higher purpose. With fortitude and compassion for all sentient beings, they learn the Dharma and practice the path whatever physical or mental difficulties they may encounter. Not fearing unpleasant tasks, they willingly go through hardship for the benefit of others, and as a result, their minds are always joyful.

We can gradually train our mind to look at the world the way bodhisattvas do. We do not have fixed personalities, and our habitual emotions and responses are not cast in stone. Let’s say somebody makes a reasonable request that we do a task that we dislike doing, and our mind silently screams, “I don’t want to do this!” Mentally step back from the situation and reflect, “How would a bodhisattva look at this situation? What would this situation look like if I had compassion for everyone concerned? What options would I have if I weren’t confined by my complaining mind?” Here we imagine looking at the situation with a kinder attitude and from a broader perspective. Doing this, we see that it’s possible to view it in an entirely different way because there’s nothing unpleasant inherent in the situation. What is so painful about washing the dishes, helping our friends clean their yard, or talking with our ex about how to help the children we both love?

Then we reflect, “Wouldn’t it be nice to do the chores, so my aging parents can relax?” Imagine how they would feel, and reflect how good you would feel knowing that you contributed to their well-being. We discover that by doing a small action with genuine compassion, our minds become joyful. Indeed, researchers have found that people experience a greater sense of well-being from helping others than they do from just seeking their own benefit.

Here now, desire is like the jungle of virulent poison;

The peacock-like heroes [alone] can digest this.

But for the crow-like cowards it spells death,

For how can the self-centered digest such poison?

When you extend this [analogy] to other afflictions,

Each similarly assails liberation’s life force, like [poison to] a crow.

Here refers to bodhisattvas who have developed confidence and compassion on the initial levels of the path. Now indicates they have progressed so that their compassion aiming to benefit others is strong and stable and they have the correct view of reality. This gives them the special ability to use clinging desire to accomplish the path without being polluted by it. Just as the peacocks can digest poisonous plants and it makes their feathers bright and beautiful, arya bodhisattvas can work with afflictions, thereby increasing the power of their realizations.

However, if crows tried to eat poisonous plants, they couldn’t stomach them and would surely die. Similarly, ordinary self-centered beings cannot do the actions of great bodhisattvas. If we tried to take desire on the path, it would overwhelm us, causing us to get involved in many destructive actions. This would spell the death of the opportunity to attain liberation. Just as crows need to avoid poisonous plants, we need to stay away from our afflictions.

When we hear that tantra practice can transform afflictions into the path, our minds may invent a variety of excuses about how we could use desire on the path. We rationalize going against the five lay precepts of abandoning killing, stealing, unwise or unkind sexual behavior, lying, and intoxicants. Holding skewed views and an inflated opinion of our present abilities, we imagine being further along the path than we actually are. This is a recipe for spiritual disaster that unfortunately many people fall prey to.

Dharmarakshita’s disciple Atisha described the path to full awakening as having three tiers. A clear understanding of this schema enables us to accurately access our present capabilities and what we at present need to emphasize in our practice. People of initial capacity cultivate the aspiration for a fortunate rebirth and practice abandoning the ten destructive paths of action in order to do so. They may also choose to live according to the five precepts for lay practitioners or the various sets of monastic precepts. People of intermediate capacity cultivate renunciation of cyclic existence and the aspiration to attain liberation. They continue to practice ethical conduct as above and in addition cultivate concentration and wisdom. People of advanced capacity are motivated by bodhicitta, the aspiration for full awakening in order to benefit all sentient beings most effectively. To accomplish this they assume the bodhisattva precepts, and when they are well trained in those, they may receive tantric empowerment and take on the tantric commitments and ethical code. We don’t start out as beings of advanced capacity. Even though we may admire bodhicitta and be attracted to the bodhisattva path, we still have to build up to them by practicing the paths in common with the initial-and intermediate-capacity beings.

Until we are well trained in all three aspirations and their corresponding practices, it’s important to be vigilant regarding our interactions with objects of attachment. This is not because those objects or people are bad, but because we are not yet skilled in restraining our attachment and maintaining a balanced state of mind when we’re around them. Bodhisattva practitioners on the higher levels of the path can enjoy objects of attachment because they know the pleasure is deceptive: it is impermanent and lacks inherent existence. Due to their wisdom, they do not become entangled in attachment. Instead, well-trained tantric practitioners are able to generate the blissful wisdom that realizes emptiness by enjoying those pleasures. However, if those of us whose minds are overwhelmed with attachment surround ourselves with objects of attachment, we get sucked in by them and create more causes of suffering trying to procure them and then to protect them.

Those of us who take monastic precepts live simply. We accept what we need to stay alive and train our minds not to chase after more. For example, at Sravasti Abbey, the monastery where I live, we eat only food that is offered to us, although we will prepare and cook what others give us. This helps us deal with attachment to food. If our minds crave cookies and no one offers them, we confront our attachment, asking ourselves, “Will I be forever happy if I have cookies? Will cookies stop my mental restlessness?” Clearly the answer is no, so we let go of the attachment and cultivate contentment. Living in this way also helps us to develop a sense of gratitude for the kindness of the people who support us.

Meditating on impermanence is important to help us understand what is actually important in life and to set our priorities accordingly. In light of our mortality and the possibility of having an unfortunate rebirth, having cookies—or whatever we are craving—is not important. Those things won’t bring us the lasting joy and fulfillment we seek, whereas taming our mind and relinquishing craving and attachment will. Meditating on the defects of cyclic existence enables us to see its unsatisfactory nature, and this reduces our interest in its transient pleasures, thus making our minds more peaceful and satisfied. Eventually, by realizing emptiness, we will cut the root of our craving and attachment completely. In short, genuine joy and fulfillment come from transforming our hearts and minds. This is something that each of us can do.

Therefore the peacock-like heroes must convert

Afflictions that resemble a jungle of poisons into an elixir

And enter the jungle of cyclic existence.

Embracing the afflictions, heroes must destroy their poison.

Arya bodhisattvas enter the jungle of cyclic existence and transform poisonous attachment so that it becomes an aid to accessing the subtlest level of consciousness. With that very refined mind, they then meditate on the nature of reality and use that realization to uproot all afflictions and their seeds so that they are forever gone.

Penicillin is actually a poison that when taken in appropriate ways becomes a medicine that cures diseases. In the same way, arya bodhisattvas use afflictions skillfully so that they become the means to generate the liberating wisdom of bliss and emptiness that cuts all afflictive and cognitive obscurations. Through the example of peacocks and crows, the first five verses clarify the difference between arya bodhisattvas and ordinary beings and the ways they are able or unable to transform afflictions.

The homage introduces Yamantaka, the destroyer of death, who conquers death by generating the blissful wisdom realizing reality. Yamantaka’s appearance is of terrifying wrath, while his nature is compassion and wisdom, love and tolerance. His anger is not like ours, which is based on self-centeredness and self-grasping ignorance. We get angry with sentient beings because we think they are the cause of our problems. Bodhisattvas and deities such as Yamantaka are wrathful toward the afflictions, polluted karma, self-centered thought, and cognitive obscurations, because those are the real enemies that cut off our life and make us suffer.

When we invoke Yamantaka to slay all the afflictive mental states that keep us bound in cyclic existence, it is important to remember that he symbolizes wisdom and compassion. Wrathful deities do not punish or inflict harm on sentient beings. They know that we have the potential to become fully awakened buddhas, and with compassion they want to help us. Their ferocious energy is directed toward the causes of our duhkha, not toward us. In other words, we are not our afflictions; we are not our faults or our bad habits. We are not the destructive actions we have done. None of these things exist inherently in us, and they can be separated from us. Understanding this opens our minds to the possibility of change and the confidence to make these changes. In addition, it allows us to view others in a more open way. No one is inherently evil or beyond hope. No matter what horrible actions people may have engaged in, they are not those actions. Those actions can be purified, and the people who did them still have buddha-nature.

The next verses spur us to awaken our courage to confront the enemies of self-grasping ignorance and self-centered thought.

From now on I will distance myself from this demon—

Self-grasping that [makes me] wander helplessly,

And its emissary—self-centeredness that seeks [only] selfish happiness and prosperity;

I will joyfully embrace hardship for the sake of others.

We wander helplessly, taking birth in one body after another in cyclic existence, with no end in sight. The demon behind this sad story is the self-grasping ignorance that grasps at the inherent existence of ourselves and all other phenomena. It is the root of samsara that gives rise to all the afflictions, and its eradication is the key to attaining liberation.

Self-grasping is in cahoots with self-centeredness; they are companions in evil. Self-grasping ignorance resembles a dictator who decrees that “I and everything else inherently exist as objective entities.” Self-centeredness is the emissary that executes this vicious dictator’s decrees by unrelentingly insisting that our own happiness and suffering are more important than anyone else’s.

Following the self-centered thought narrows our perspective on life. Instead of seeing others as living beings with feelings, we focus on how they can benefit us. Rather than approach situations with openness, curiosity, and sharing, we think, “What can I get out of this?” Ignoring the other seven billion human beings on the planet as well as the zillions of animals, insects, and fish, self-centeredness demands that its own concerns and needs be fulfilled before anyone else’s and even at the cost of others’ happiness.

Examining our experience, we see that the more self-centered we are, the more miserable we become. Because self-centeredness interprets everything as revolving around us, we become extremely sensitive to small actions others do, believing that they indicate what others think about us. We are easily hurt and offended. We become preoccupied with our appearance, our status, wealth, reputation, and there is little space to consider others’ feelings and needs. We treat others inconsiderately and then are angry when they avoid us. We try to control others in an attempt to make them do what we want. In the process, we make enemies and create a lot of destructive karma.

Giving up self-preoccupation does not entail making ourselves suffer. We must take care of ourselves, but in a proper way, not a self-indulgent way. This human body is the basis of our precious human life that gives us the possibility to learn and practice the Dharma. We need to keep our body clean and make sure we exercise and sleep enough and eat nutritious food to stay healthy. We do this with the motivation to practice the Dharma and gain realizations, so we can benefit others. This way of taking care of our physical needs is not self-centered.

In opposing self-grasping and self-centeredness, we may encounter difficulties. Problems arise naturally in cyclic existence, and when we start to practice Dharma, we shouldn’t expect this to change instantly. Sometimes our previously created destructive karma will ripen as health problems, relationship difficulties, financial problems, and so on. But now we respond to problems differently because we want to benefit others. So rather than get angry or feel sorry for ourselves when we face problems, Dharmarakshita advises us to joyfully embrace hardship for the sake of others. In this way we transform the situation so it becomes an aid to help us cultivate love, compassion, and inner strength.

In other words, while we don’t go looking for hardship, if it comes our way in the process of helping others and practicing the Dharma, we accept it. Experiencing hardship can teach us a lot. We discover internal resources we didn’t know we had, and we develop good qualities we may not have developed otherwise. Our empathy and understanding of others’ situations increases, stifling our arrogance and helping us to connect with others better.

In our beginningless samsaric existences, we have experienced many hardships. We have been born in unfortunate realms countless times and been separated from our loved ones and possessions countless times. We have been under the control of repressive regimes, imprisoned for exercising our human rights, and humiliated although we have done nothing wrong. While experiencing these hardships in the past, our mind remained self-centered: “I don’t like this. It isn’t fair. The world should be different. Get rid of these horrible people who abuse me.” This way of thinking increases our present suffering and plants more seeds for suffering in future lives.

However, undergoing hardship with the motivation to attain spiritual realizations is worthwhile, and despite external difficulties, our mind will remain content. Having a noble, long-term goal to gain the wisdom, compassion, and skill needed to best benefit others enables us to put the present difficulties in perspective and to adopt a Dharma approach to them. For example, if we have to make a long and uncomfortable journey to learn the Dharma or endure pain while sitting in meditation, we bear this for the purpose of attaining full awakening for the benefit of all beings. In this way, we learn to transform adversity into the path and counteract the self-grasping ignorance and self-centered thought that are the chief causes of our own suffering. Some Tibetans who were imprisoned and tortured after the communist takeover of Tibet used their hardship to cultivate compassion and the determination to be free of cyclic existence. In this way, they maintained a peaceful mind and transformed their suffering into the path to awakening.

Propelled by karma and habituated to afflictions—

The sufferings of all beings who share this same nature—

I will heap them upon the self that yearns for happiness.

Attachment and anger are our “dear companions”; ignorance is the “friend” that never leaves us. We are so habituated to afflictions that we often do not realize when they take over our minds. We hear a critical remark, feel offended, and get angry. It all seems so natural. We take it for granted that the right response is to utter a snide remark in return or spread bad tales about our offender. In this way, we plant the seeds of destructive karma in our mindstreams. This karma will ripen as the type of rebirth we will take in the future. It will influence whether we will be healthy or sick, whether we live in a war-torn or peaceful place, and whether people like us or not. Before we engage in actions, we have a choice to create the causes for suffering or for happiness, but after we create destructive karma, unless we purify it, it will definitely ripen in unpleasant ways.

We need to contemplate this and recognize that this is our situation. This will prompt us to generate a strong aspiration to free ourselves from cyclic existence. Then, realizing that this is the situation of all other sentient beings—the sufferings of all beings who share this same nature—we generate the wish for them to be free from cyclic existence. Recognizing that our self-centeredness is the real enemy responsible for all of our suffering, we imagine taking the misery of others away from them and heaping it upon our self-centered thought, the self that yearns for only my own happiness.

Mentally taking on others’ suffering does not mean that we blame ourselves for being selfish and thus think we deserve to suffer. Rather, differentiating between the inherently existent self that the self-grasping ignorance and self-centered thought grasp and the conventional self, we want to free ourselves from the tyranny of self-centeredness and ignorance.

The conventional self is the I that exists by being merely designated in dependence on the body and mind. That is, on the basis of seeing the body and mind, we say “I” or “a person.” This is the mere I, the conventionally existent I that revolves in cyclic existence, practices the path, and attains awakening. That merely designated self, which cannot be found when we search for exactly what it is, exists now and continues into the awakened state. The problem starts when ignorance grasps that I in an erroneous manner, projecting a mode of existence onto it that it doesn’t have. Ignorance believes that the conventional self exists in its own right as an objectively existent person with its own inherent essence. In fact, such an inherently existent self does not exist at all. In short, ignorance makes a big deal about something that doesn’t exist. It’s like a child believing in the boogey man and becoming paralyzed with fear. The child is afraid of something that doesn’t exist.

That doesn’t mean that the person doesn’t exist at all. The person exists conventionally, by being merely designated. What doesn’t exist is the inherently existent person we mistakenly believe is there. The conventional person wants to be happy and free of suffering. Every person has this thought, and there’s nothing wrong with it. However, ignorance isn’t satisfied with that and believes the I to be quite “solid.” Buoyed by ignorance, self-centeredness says, “I want to be happy. I am most important. I should get everything I want.” Ignorance misapprehends the self, and self-preoccupation makes our self and everything that happens to us more important than they are.

Just as ignorance is not an intrinsic part of us and can be eliminated, so too self-centered thought is not who we are and it can be abandoned. We are not inherently selfish. The above verse instructs us to pinpoint self-centered thought and self-grasping ignorance and give them all of our problems. Since they are the source of our misery, it is suitable to do this. This is very different from masochistically wishing ourselves to suffer. Rather, wishing other living beings to be happy and wanting ourselves to be free from the reign of terror our self-grasping and self-centeredness inflict on us, we take on others’ pain and give it to these two culprits.

When selfish craving enters my heart,

I will expel it and offer my happiness to all beings.

If those around me rise in mutiny against me,

I will relish it, thinking, “This is due to my own negligence.”

Seeing the defects of self-preoccupation, when selfish craving enters our heart, we train our mind to recognize the harm it causes us and to expel it by imagining taking on the suffering of others. To further harm our self-centeredness, we do something it does not like at all: we offer our happiness to all beings. Instead of indulging our self-preoccupation, which only digs us into a hole, we focus on others’ needs and concerns and give them our happiness.

Even if others harm us and rise in mutiny against us, instead of retaliating and inflicting harm on them, we recognize that the harm we receive is due to our previous negligence in observing the law of karma and its effects. Not realizing or caring that our actions have an ethical dimension, in the past we acted in self-centered ways that inflicted harm on others and created destructive karma for ourselves. Now we are experiencing the result of these actions—the boomerang returns to us. So we assume responsibility for our own actions and bear the result without blaming others or feeling sorry for ourselves. Relishing the opportunity to purify our destructive karma, we do the taking-and-giving meditation.

As preparation for this meditation, we contemplate that all sentient beings—ourselves and others, friends, strangers, enemies—all equally want happiness and not suffering. We then consider others’ misery in cyclic existence—the poverty, sickness, emotional betrayal, injustice, and disappointments they experience in life after life. Here we can bring the news into our meditation by reflecting on all the diverse sufferings humans and animals experience. Rather than go to the extreme of despair over the state of the world, we generate compassion for all sentient beings, thinking, “How wonderful if they were free from all unsatisfactory circumstances and their causes.”

We then reflect on the kindness living beings have shown us in this and previous lives and will continue to show us in future lives. They grow the food we eat, make the clothes we wear. All our knowledge comes because others taught us; all our talents depend on those who encourage and coach us. Feeling their kindness, we cultivate love, thinking, “How wonderful if they had happiness and all the causes of happiness.”

We then reflect on the defects of self-centeredness, becoming convinced of its deleterious effects; we contemplate the benefits of cherishing others until we have an overwhelming wish to act on our positive feelings. This propels us to “exchange self and others.” This means that instead of thinking that we are the most important one who deserves everything good, we think that others are more important and sincerely want to work for their benefit. We can even exchange the referents of the words “self” and “others,” so that when we say, “I want to be happy,” we actually mean “others want to be happy,” and when we say, “others aren’t important,” we mean “I’m not so important.”

The taking-and-giving meditation is a win-win situation where we imagine compassionately taking what others don’t want—their duhkha and its causes, self-grasping and self-centeredness—and use it to destroy what we don’t want, our ignorance and self-centeredness. Then, with love, we imagine giving them our happiness, good circumstances, and their causes, wholesome mental states and wholesome karma.

To do the taking-and-giving meditation itself, we visualize in front of us others who are afflicted with the three kinds of duhkha. With some people we may focus more on their obvious suffering, the duhkha of pain; with others we may be more aware of their duhkha of change, which leaves them constantly dissatisfied or disillusioned. With still others, their duhkha of pervasive conditioning is more prominent in our minds. We imagine all these unsatisfactory circumstances leaving them in the form of pollution. Inhaling the pollution, we meditate that we are taking on their duhkha and its causes—and feel joyful that these kind sentient beings are now free from them.

We do not simply take their duhkha and its causes into ourselves and sit there and suffer. Instead, we imagine our self-grasping ignorance and self-centeredness as a lump at our heart. The duhkha of others that we have inhaled becomes a lightning bolt that obliterates the lump at our heart (i.e., the heart center in the middle of our chest). We pause and experience the spaciousness and relief of being free from ignorance and self-centeredness. We rest our minds in this space while meditating on the emptiness of inherent existence.

When our concentration begins to fade, we imagine radiant light filling the space in our heart. It is our happiness, and we now give to others without any fear or reluctance. We imagine transforming our body into a wish-fulfilling jewel that becomes whatever or whoever others need, and we give this to others. We imagine doing the same with our possessions, imagining others receiving whatever they need and feeling satisfied. Finally, we imagine giving our merit or good karma to others, thinking it transforms and expands into whatever others need to practice the Dharma—temples, centers, monasteries, teachers, Dharma friends, books, meditation cushions, and so forth. We also imagine our merit becomes realizations of the path and give these to all others. They receive these and become fully enlightened buddhas. We witness them being radiant and peaceful, experiencing true freedom and fearlessness as well as overwhelming delight in working for the benefit of others. The happiness of being able to benefit others overrides any kind of discomfort we may have felt about giving our body, possessions, and merit to them.

People sometimes have objections regarding the taking-and-giving meditation. One objection is that it does not work; the other is that it might work. Regarding the first, we think, “I’m only imagining relieving sentient beings of their misery and giving them happiness. That doesn’t change their situation at all, so what use is it?” Regarding the second, we worry, “What happens if by visualizing taking on others’ suffering, I succeed? I might get sick by imagining taking on others’ illness. I might lose my body, wealth, and merit because I’m imagining giving them away.”

Our minds are so contradictory, and self-centered thought is the root of the conundrum. Self-preoccupation doesn’t want to waste our time doing something it considers useless (such as imagining others becoming buddhas), but it also doesn’t want to take a risk (and possibly get sick if what we imagined actually happened). This recurs in so many aspects of our life. “Will I do this, or will I do that?” We get totally tangled up and cannot make up our mind. We are stuck between two self-centered thoughts, and we cannot make a suitable decision or find a satisfactory solution. We want to think of ourselves as magnanimous individuals who bravely relieve others of their pain and sacrifice our body, possessions, and virtue for them, and yet we don’t want to experience any discomfort. In fact, being aware of our discomfort when doing the taking-and-giving meditation lets us see the current limitations of our love and compassion. With this knowledge, sincere practitioners will contemplate more precisely the drawbacks of self-preoccupation and the benefits of cherishing others to the point where they become courageous bodhisattvas.

This meditation is good to do when we experience fear and aversion toward our own suffering. It is also an excellent antidote to self-pity. When we feel hurt, we generally feel weak and helpless. To mask the discomfort of these feelings, our self-centeredness inflames our anger. Sometimes we may explode in anger, spewing our negativity on everyone around us. Other times we implode, retreating to sulk, pout, and feel sorry for ourselves. We have a “pity party” relishing the thought of “poor me.” Our egos get a lot of mileage out of thinking we are victims whom nobody appreciates. However, this thought only makes us more miserable, and our sulking and pouting only push people away from us at the very time when we most want to connect with them.

Instead of drowning in this jumble of confused thoughts, we can do the taking-and-giving meditation. This pulls us out of this unhealthy focus on ourselves and broadens our perspective to see that others are just like us, wanting happiness and not suffering. It elicits our love and compassion, bringing peace into our hearts and lives.