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WHEN I RETURNED to the West following my time of retreat in India, it became important to find a way back into Western life. As I was a layperson, this inevitably meant working to earn a living. In many Eastern countries there is still a view that those whose intention is to live a life devoted to spiritual practice are offering something significant to society. As a result, the support of practitioners is considered a normal aspect of social life. In the West this view is largely absent, and as a consequence there are few opportunities to avoid the necessary practicalities of earning a living and engaging with the demands of Western life. There are a few Buddhist communities that will support practitioners, but these are rare.
To live in the West requires that practice be genuinely grounded in the world. In many ways one could consider the need for work to be psychologically healthy, particularly for those who have the Puer disposition mentioned previously. As we have seen, the Puer tendency to be absorbed in spiritual and creative visions and ideals often leads to the avoidance or denial of the need to be grounded in the material world. It is often feared that material demands will sully spiritual values, but the dangers of this kind of ungroundedness become apparent with time. To continue to live in an airy spiritual idealism is not a resolution to the journey, and the desire to do so suggests there are unresolved psychological issues that still need to be addressed.
Having been through a long period of retreat where I was supported by a number of particularly generous benefactors, I was challenged, on my return to the West, with the need to support myself. I discovered I was virtually unemployable and that my credentials as a meditator had little value. Beginning to engage in the process of finding a suitable livelihood was hard at first. I was returning to a society that was very different from the one I had left five years earlier. Once I had decided to train as a psychotherapist, I had to work on building sites to earn the money to pay for the course. In the end I actually found the capacity to be self-sustaining an extremely empowering process.
Once we accept our place back in the relative world of work and domestication after having journeyed far into the inner reaches of our minds, we can begin to manifest our potential to help others. I once received advice from a Tibetan teacher who said that having traveled and studied in the East for so long, I should stop in one place and stabilize my life and practice and then begin to serve others. If we have lived the life of a wanderer, it is often only when we stop that we can manifest the things in our life that will serve others. As a recently trained psychotherapist I found that this was certainly the case. The notion of right livelihood from the Buddha’s eightfold path then becomes very significant.
As we learn to embody our spirituality we will also deepen our capacity to creatively manifest in the world. According to Joseph Campbell the capacity to manifest our spirituality in form is associated with the father archetype.44 (By contrast, he saw the capacity to become embodied as associated with the mother archetype.) The archetype of Senex in particular is connected to the principle of crystallizing and materializing our visions and experiences in the concrete world so as to give them shape, order, and practical application. This inevitably moves us away from Puer spiritual idealism into the realm of what is practically possible in the “real world.” In this spirit of pragmatism we must address the questions that arise when attempting to live in society. These include ethical questions relating to important issues in life such as the environment, birth control, abortion, health and welfare issues, and political values. Manifestation in this respect is engaging with the culture in which one lives rather than attempting to live in a vacuum.
In the Buddhist philosophy of three kayas a Buddha’s manifestation in the world is known as nirmanakaya. This is often translated as “emanation body” or “manifestation body.” What motivates a Buddha’s special ability is a decision to manifest constantly for the welfare of all sentient beings in an aspect that is appropriate and beneficial to them. There is an implicit pragmatism in this principle that recognizes the need to be in the “real world.”
The compassionate heart of bodhichitta at the core of the bodhisattva’s path leads to a commitment to remain embodied in order to bring benefit to others, particularly through the gift of the Dharma. A Buddha’s capacity to manifest arises from the bodhisattva vow. It is the strength of intention of bodhichitta generated by a bodhisattva before becoming a Buddha that creates the eventual power to limitlessly manifest activities that will affect the lives and minds of others. This power is beyond our normal comprehension and can seem somewhat academic to describe. Maitreya nevertheless describes the extraordinary qualities of a Buddha in texts such as the Uttaratantra.
From one perspective, a Buddha can be said to be one who has mastered the capacity of creative manifestation. A Buddha’s state of being rests in each moment of creation as our relative world comes into being. As ordinary human individuals, we can only begin to experience what this might mean with gradual practice. Through deepening awareness we can also experience the process of creative manifestation that is unfolding in each moment of our existence. We are, after all, an expression of it in each moment: the key is to recognize this process and wake up to it more fully.
When we cultivate a quality of clear present awareness, we begin to open to the vitality that is on the threshold between emptiness and appearance. We begin to recognize and feel more deeply the innate spontaneity of each moment of creation. If we are able to sustain awareness, our practical material life can then become a powerful and rich expression of that dynamic creative energy.
Manifestation is the capacity to be open to what can emerge from moment to moment as a natural expression of our Buddha nature. With clarity and presence we can gradually let go of the sense of selfconscious ego-identity that blocks our natural capacity to creatively engage with each moment.
This creative awareness is often represented in Buddhist Tantra by the daka or dakini, the archetypal male or female deity forms that symbolize the play of reality. The Sanskrit terms daka and dakini (Tib. khadro and khadroma) mean literally “space- or sky-goer,” or more poetically, “sky dancer.” The term kha or space, signifies the space of emptiness from which the play of appearances arises. The dakas and dakinis represent a quality that is open in each moment to respond with fresh, uncontrived spontaneity. They express the fearless freedom from contraction that enables a dance with reality. It is like the freedom of the jazz musician who responds to each moment of music, moving in and out of the thread of the tune.
Our power of creative manifestation is often unrecognized, but when we awaken this capacity, we contact a vitality that is extremely potent, fluid, and dynamic. However, for some to experience their full potency as creative individuals can be both unfamiliar and frightening, particularly if we are afraid to be seen for who we are, afraid to express ourselves, afraid to be effective, or afraid to make mistakes. Learning to let go of fear and allow our creative vitality to be free is not always an easy process. It is, however, one that can bring unfathomable benefit to both others and ourselves. Once we tap into our innate vitality and open ourselves to its creative resource, extraordinary things are possible.
From a tantric perspective our vitality is a dynamic quality that has the power to flow through us in a healthy way, or it may become blocked and unhealthy. When it is freed from obstructions and cleansed of toxicity accumulated through life, its power is extraordinary. In the process of purification emphasized in the tantric tradition, we release a creative potential that is virtually limitless. My teacher Lama Thubten Yeshe demonstrated this in his own life by his capacity to teach and give out extraordinary energy to his students even though he had a serious heart condition. I have seen him look ashen and drained after a long, demanding period of teaching. By virtue of certain practices he was able to regenerate his vitality in a way that for most would be inconceivable. He would go to his room and spend an hour or so engaged in a particular practice and then return looking radiant and powerful, ready to yet again dedicate his energy to teaching.
Lama Yeshe’s dynamism was something that inspired everyone who came in contact with him. His power to be constantly engaged in activities that would benefit those around him and the love, concern, and generosity with which he devoted himself to his students made him a source of constant inspiration. His example was one of constant manifestation of his bodhichitta intention to work for the welfare of others in practical ways.
The vitality of manifestation is a form of generosity, one of the six paramitas or perfections of a bodhisattva, and is an attribute of bodhichitta. When we are open to the richness within we can begin to enrich the lives of others. This generosity of heart is the willingness to dedicate our life and vitality to the welfare of others. This may be through material generosity, it may be through the gift of service in caring for others, or it may manifest through whatever work we devote ourselves to. For the bodhisattva there is no place for an inactivity that remains withholding and self-absorbed, when we have the capacity to do whatever we can.
Manifestation and embodiment take us away from self-absorption or self-preoccupation. Self-absorption can be an unfortunate symptom of the introspective nature of meditation practice. The emphasis in Buddhism is to tame one’s own mind and be vigilant to inner intentions that could give rise to unwholesome actions of body, speech, and mind. Self-reflection is therefore an imperative. The habit some of us may have to be self-preoccupied does not automatically go away through the cultivation of mindfulness and meditative insights. A more conscious shift away from being so self-obsessed is required. When this happens it is important to begin to turn the attention outward towards those around us to recognize the nature of their suffering. In the teaching on the cultivation of bodhichitta we are constantly reminded that self-preoccupation is the root of suffering, while cherishing others is the source of all happiness.
The question will then be, How can we be of benefit to others in our life and practice? What do we have to offer? The bodhisattva’s perfection of generosity is part of that gesture of concern for the welfare of others. It is an opening of the heart that takes us beyond narrow, impoverished closed-mindedness. As Shantideva says in the Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life, generosity is not the action of giving to others; it is a quality of intention that is willing to be open and give whatever we can. We are able to naturally, spontaneously respond with compassion and wisdom when the moment arises and where we feel we are able.
While living in India I felt myself challenged by this experience whenever beggars in the streets confronted me. Part of me would recoil and want to shrink back into a safe inner cocoon unaffected by the horrors of seeing a leper’s deformed hand thrust into my face. Another part of me would rationalize that it was not really helping to be giving a few paisas to a child begging on behalf of his parents. Yet another part of me wished I could really see what was useful to help someone in his suffering state. All I could do was to give some coins, knowing that when others saw this I would be surrounded by a fiercely demanding group of beggars.
This example brings into view the recognition that to manifest in the world requires both the compassion to move us towards suffering rather than away from it and also the wisdom to know how to respond. We may have a heartfelt desire to help, but the question will always be, What is the most skillful way to do so? Our perception of the consequences of our actions is inevitably limited. Perhaps once we have attained buddhahood our eyes will be open to the results of our actions. In the meantime, we can only learn to trust our own innate sense of what feels right from our experience. This invariably means we will get it wrong from time to time.
Manifestation is a creative process that requires that we understand deeply the nature of reality. If we have the quality of presence that can be aware of the natural creative process at work moment by moment, we can begin to participate in that dynamic process. To participate and engage in this dynamic is to live life fully and to begin to actualize the archetypal intent of bodhichitta, bringing together wisdom and compassion. As I indicated earlier, the bodhisattva learns to inhabit a space between two worlds. An insight into the true nature of reality opens the mind to an ultimate truth that must be embodied in the world. The bodhisattva chooses to live consciously in this place of creative tension between relative and ultimate truth. The intention of doing so is an act of selfless surrender that causes a bodhisattva to be a vehicle for the manifestation of Buddha activity in the world.
The bodhisattva is like a lightning conductor that is able to ground the wisdom, power, inspiration, and compassionate intent of Buddha nature within the world of sentient beings. This is no simple task and will often take its toll upon the vehicle that carries such archetypal intent. The fact that a bodhisattva is not yet a Buddha means he or she is still fallible, still bound by human limitation, and that there are still points of vulnerability. It is not uncommon for the weakest point to be found in the bodhisattva’s physical body, resulting in sickness. One could see this as a symptomatic reflection of where there is still something to learn. It may equally be the point of greatest awakening. The image of the wounded healer is a familiar one to Western psychological understanding, and in many ways the bodhisattva’s path embodies this paradigm. Whatever difficulties or failings may manifest become the source of deeper understanding, wisdom, and compassion. Often our times of pain and struggle are like cracks through which the light passes. This is the noble imperfection, the human fallibility or frailty that contains the potential for so much wisdom, beauty, love, and compassion, like the grit in the oyster that gradually forms the pearl.
Our capacity to manifest is found in our humanity, in our authenticity and our openness. It is to be found in our willingness to truly engage with what we do. This means to engage in the totality of life with love and care rather than hide away from it in a spiritual cocoon. When we are willing to accept ourselves fully and open to our true potential, it need not be something grand and outstanding that emerges. It may just be our capacity to be truly authentic with how we are with others, in our work, in our play, and in the creative expression of our true nature. Spirituality is then not a big deal; it is something very simple and uncontrived in the present, open and spontaneous.
When we are able to remain present, authentic, and open, we will be able to respond to each moment in a fresh and natural way. By remaining in this state we will be more prepared for those moments when, in meeting another, a genuine opening occurs to something deeper and more meaningful. This is like the sun that is always shining but waits for the clouds to open. Manifestation is a spontaneous and creative response to the moment, whether it is in helping another or in some creative process. As a psychotherapist I can see this potential in every session with clients. The challenge is to retain a sense of open presence that will enable me to remain spontaneous, authentic, and compassionate in relation to whatever is arising, rather than resorting to techniques and preconceived agendas.
What Dharma practice can bring is a depth of clarity that helps us to remain present and awake within daily life. Maintaining the mind’s clarity will enable us to see through the illusions of our daily reality and recognize where we are going off-center. It will enable us to remain true to our innate sense of what is valuable and what is frivolous in our life, what is skillful and what is not. With clarity we can remain with integrity and honesty, not deceiving ourselves or others. Clarity leads us to a quality of authenticity so that we do not hide our fallibility or become grandiose. In particular, the maintenance of clarity will enable us to let go of the disposition to grasp at the sense of identity. Through remaining true to the empty, illusory nature of reality, such clarity enables us to be open and not caught in the ego’s disposition to grasp at and limit what we do.
Our actions are most skillful and natural when there is less selfconscious ego identification involved. Whatever our creative expression may be, it will be cleaner and more beneficial when free of the ego’s self-preoccupation and distorted intention. When we are clear, present, and free of ego-grasping there will be a fluidity in our actions not found at other times. Our capacity to manifest our innate nature will then be clear and spontaneous.
Manifestation does not have to arise through something exotic and magical. It is rather the simple, down-to-earth capacity to remain present, open, and creatively engaged in all that we do. We participate with love and clarity in the daily processes of our lives and give of ourselves fully and honestly. We are all fundamentally creative, not in grand ways like the great artists and composers, but rather, in all that we do. Every moment of the day we respond to the appearances of reality. We can do so from a place of unconscious, blind, habitual ignorance and create endless suffering, confusion, and misery, or we can awaken and participate in a creative process that is alive, vital, and beautiful in its sheer ordinariness, as the play of life itself.