Buddhism In a Nutshell: The Four
Seals of Dharma
by Dzongsar Khyentse
Rinpoche
People often ask me: "What is Buddhism in a
nutshell?" Or they ask, "What is the particular view or
philosophy of Buddhism?"
Unfortunately, in the West Buddhism seems to have landed
in the religious department, even in the self-help or
self-improvement department, and clearly it's in the trendy
meditation department. I would like to challenge the popular
definition of Buddhist meditation.
Many people think meditation has something to do with
relaxation, with watching the sunset or watching the waves at
the beach. Charming phrases like "letting go" and "being
carefree" come to mind. From a Buddhist point of view,
meditation is slightly more than that.
First, I think we need to talk about the real context of
Buddhist meditation. This is referred to as the view,
meditation
and action; taken together, these constitute quite a skillful
way of understanding the path. Even though we may not use
such
expressions in everyday life, if we think about it, we always
act according to a certain view, meditation and action. For
instance, if we want to buy a car, we choose the one we think
is
the best, most reliable and so on. So the "view," in this
case, is the idea or belief that we have, that is, that the
car
is a good one. Then the "meditation" is contemplating and
getting used to the idea, and the "action" is actually
buying the car, driving it and using it. This process is not
necessarily something Buddhist; it's something we're doing
all the time. You don't have to call it view, meditation and
action. You can think of it as "idea," "getting used
to," and "obtaining."
So what is the particular view that Buddhists try to get
used to? Buddhism is distinguished by four characteristics,
or
'seals." Actually, if all these four seals are found in a
path or a philosophy, it doesn't matter whether you call it
Buddhist or not. You can call it what you like; the words
"Buddhist" or "Buddhism" are not important. The point is
that if this path contains these four seals, it can be
considered the path of the Buddha.
Therefore, these four characteristics are called "the
Four Seals of Dharma." They are:
All compounded things are impermanent.
All emotions are painful. This is something that only
Buddhists would talk about. Many religions worship things
like
love with celebration and songs. Buddhists think, "This is
all
suffering."
All phenomena are empty; they are without inherent
existence. This is actually the ultimate view of Buddhism;
the
other three are grounded on this third seal.
The fourth seal is that nirvana is beyond extremes.
Without these four seals, the Buddhist path would become
theistic, religious dogma, and its whole purpose would be
lost.
On the other hand, you could have a surfer giving you
teachings
on how to sit on a beach watching a sunset: if what he says
contains all these four seals, it would be Buddhism. The
Tibetans, the Chinese, or the Japanese might not like it, but
teaching doesn't have to be in a "traditional" form. The
four seals are quite interrelated, as you will see.
The First Seal:
All Compounded Things are Impermanent
Every phenomenon we can think of is compounded, and
therefore subject to impermanence. Certain aspects of
impermanence, like the changing of the weather, we can accept
easily, but there are equally obvious things that we don't
accept.
For instance, our body is visibly impermanent and getting
older every day, and yet this is something we don't want to
accept. Certain popular magazines that cater to youth and
beauty
exploit this attitude. In terms of view, meditation and
action,
their readers might have a view - thinking in terms of not
aging
or escaping the aging process somehow. They contemplate this
view of permanence, and their consequent action is to go to
fitness centers and undergo plastic surgery and all sorts of
other hassles.
Enlightened beings would think that this is ridiculous
and based on a wrong view. Regarding these different aspects
of
impermanence, getting old and dying, the changing of the
weather, etc., Buddhists have a single statement, namely this
first seal: phenomena are impermanent because they are
compounded. Anything that is assembled will, sooner or later,
come apart.
When we say "compounded," that includes the
dimensions of space and time. Time is compounded and
therefore
impermanent: without the past and future, there is no such
thing
as the present. If the present moment were permanent, there
would be no future, since the present would always be there.
Every act you do - let's say, plant a flower or sing a
song - has a beginning, a middle and an end. If, in the
singing
of a song, the beginning, middle or end were missing, there
would be no such thing as singing a song, would there? That
means that singing a song is something compounded.
"So what?" we ask. "Why should we bother about
that? What's the big deal? It has a beginning, middle, and
end'so what?" It's not that Buddhists are really worried
about beginnings, middles or ends; that's not the problem.
The
problem is that when there is composition and impermanence,
as
there is with temporal and material things, there is
uncertainty
and pain.
Some people think that Buddhists are pessimistic, always
talking about death, impermanence and aging. But that is not
necessarily true. Impermanence is a relief! I don't have a
BMW
today and it is thanks to the impermanence of that fact that
I
might have one tomorrow. Without impermanence, I am stuck
with
the non-possession of a BMW, and I can never have one. I
might
feel severely depressed today and, thanks to impermanence, I
might feel great tomorrow. Impermanence is not necessarily
bad
news; it depends on the way you understand it. Even if today
your BMW gets scratched by a vandal, or your best friend lets
you down, if you have a view of impermanence, you won't be so
worried.
Delusion arises when we don't acknowledge that all
compounded things are impermanent. But when we realize this
truth, deep down and not just intellectually, that's what we
call liberation: release from this one-pointed, narrow-minded
belief in permanence. Everything, whether you like it or
not - even the path, the precious Buddhist path - is
compounded.
It has a beginning, it has a middle and it has an end.
When you understand that "all compounded things are
impermanent," you are prepared to accept the experience of
loss. Since everything is impermanent, this is to be
expected.
The Second Seal:
All Emotions are Painful
The Tibetan word for emotion in this context is zagche,
which means "contaminated" or 'stained," in the sense of
being permeated by confusion or duality.
Certain emotions, such as aggression or jealousy, we
naturally regard as pain. But what about love and affection,
kindness and devotion, those nice, light and lovely emotions?
We
don't think of them as painful; nevertheless, they imply
duality, and this means that, in the end, they are a source
of
pain.
The dualistic mind includes almost every thought we have.
Why is this painful? Because it is mistaken. Every dualistic
mind is a mistaken mind, a mind that doesn't understand the
nature of things. So how are we to understand duality? It is
subject and object: ourselves on the one hand and our
experience
on the other. This kind of dualistic perception is mistaken,
as
we can see in the case of different persons perceiving the
same
object in different ways. A man might think a certain woman
is
beautiful and that is his truth. But if that were some kind
of
absolute, independent kind of truth, then everyone else also
would have to see her as beautiful as well. Clearly, this is
not
a truth that is independent of everything else. It is
dependent
on your mind; it is your own projection.
The dualistic mind creates a lot of expectations'a lot
of hope, a lot of fear. Whenever there is a dualistic mind,
there is hope and fear. Hope is perfect, systematized pain.
We
tend to think that hope is not painful, but actually it's a
big pain. As for the pain of fear, that's not something we
need to explain.
The Buddha said, "Understand suffering." That is the
first Noble Truth. Many of us mistake pain for pleasure'the
pleasure we now have is actually the very cause of the pain
that
we are going to get sooner or later. Another Buddhist way of
explaining this is to say that when a big pain becomes
smaller,
we call it pleasure. That's what we call happiness.
Moreover, emotion does not have some kind of inherently
real existence. When thirsty people see a mirage of water,
they
have a feeling of relief: "Great, there's some water!" But
as they get closer, the mirage disappears. That is an
important
aspect of emotion: emotion is something that does not have an
independent existence.
This is why Buddhists conclude that all emotions are
painful. It is because they are impermanent and dualistic
that
they are uncertain and always accompanied by hopes and fears.
But ultimately, they don't have, and never have had, an
inherently existent nature, so, in a way, they are not worth
much. Everything we create through our emotions is, in the
end,
completely futile and painful. This is why Buddhists do
shamatha
and vipashyana meditation'this helps to loosen the grip that
our emotions have on us, and the obsessions we have because
of
them.
Question: Is compassion an emotion?
People like us have dualistic compassion, whereas the
Buddha's
compassion does not involve subject and object. From a
buddha's point of view, compassion could never involve
subject
and object. This is what is called mahakaruna - great
compassion.
I'm having difficulty accepting that all emotions are
pain.
Okay, if you want a more philosophical expression, you can
drop
the word "emotion" and simply say, "All that is dualistic
is pain." But I like using the word "emotion" because it
provokes us.
Isn't pain impermanent?
Yeah! If you know this, then you're all right. It's because
we don't know this that we go through a lot of hassles trying
to solve our problems. And that is the second biggest problem
we
have'trying to solve our problems.
The Third Seal:
All Phenomena are Empty;
They Are Without Inherent Existence
When we say "all," that means everything, including
the Buddha, enlightenment, and the path. Buddhists define a
phenomenon as something with characteristics, and as an
object
that is conceived by a subject. To hold that an object is
something external is ignorance, and it is this that prevents
us
from seeing the truth of that object.
The truth of a phenomenon is called shunyata, emptiness,
which implies that the phenomenon does not possess a truly
existent essence or nature. When a deluded person or subject
sees something, the object seen is interpreted as something
really existent. However, as you can see, the existence
imputed
by the subject is a mistaken assumption. Such an assumption
is
based on the different conditions that make an object appear
to
be true; this, however, is not how the object really is. It's
like when we see a mirage: there is no truly existing object
there, even though it appears that way. With emptiness, the
Buddha meant that things do not truly exist as we mistakenly
believe they do, and that they are really empty of that
falsely
imputed existence.
It is because they believe in what are really just
confused projections that sentient beings suffer. It was as a
remedy for this that the Buddha taught the Dharma. Put very
simply, when we talk about emptiness, we mean that the way
things appear is not the way they actually are. As I said
before
when speaking about emotions, you may see a mirage and think
it
is something real, but when you get close, the mirage
disappears, however real it may have seemed to begin with.
Emptiness can sometimes be referred to as dharmakaya, and
in a different context we could say that the dharmakaya is
permanent, never changing, all pervasive, and use all sorts
of
beautiful, poetic words. These are the mystical expressions
that
belong to the path, but for the moment, we are still at the
ground stage, trying to get an intellectual understanding. On
the path, we might portray Buddha Vajradhara as a symbol of
dharmakaya, or emptiness, but from an academic point of view,
even to think of painting the dharmakaya is a mistake.
The Buddha taught three different approaches on three
separate occasions. These are known as The Three Turnings of
the
Wheel, but they can be summed up in a single phrase: "Mind;
there is no mind; mind is luminosity."
The first, "Mind," refers to the first set of
teachings and shows that the Buddha taught that there is a
"mind." This was to dispel the nihilistic view that there is
no heaven, no hell, no cause and effect. Then, when the
Buddha
said, "There is no mind," he meant that mind is just a
concept and that there is no such thing as a truly existing
mind. Finally, when he said, "Mind is luminous," he was
referring to buddhanature, the undeluded or primordially
existing wisdom.
The great commentator Nagarjuna said that the purpose of
the first turning was to get rid of non-virtue. Where does
the
non-virtue come from? It comes from being either eternalist
or
nihilist. So in order to put an end to non-virtuous deeds and
thoughts, the Buddha gave his first teaching. The second
turning
of the Dharma-wheel, when the Buddha spoke about emptiness,
was
presented in order to dispel clinging to a "truly existent
self" and to "truly existent phenomena." Finally, the
teachings of the third turning were given to dispel all
views,
even the view of no-self. The Buddha's three sets of teaching
do not seek to introduce something new; their purpose is
simply
to clear away confusion.
As Buddhists we practice compassion, but if we lack an
understanding of this third seal - that all phenomena are
empty - our compassion can backfire. If you are attached to
the
goal of compassion when trying to solve a problem, you might
not
notice that your idea of the solution is entirely based on
your
own personal interpretation. And you might end up as a victim
of
hope and fear, and consequently of disappointment. You start
by
becoming a "good mahayana practitioner," and, once or twice,
you try to help sentient beings. But if you have no
understanding of this third seal, you'll get tired and give
up
helping sentient beings.
There is another kind of a problem that arises from not
understanding emptiness. It occurs with rather superficial
and
even jaded Buddhists. Somehow, within Buddhist circles, if
you
don't accept emptiness, you are not cool. So we pretend that
we appreciate emptiness and pretend to meditate on it. But if
we
don't understand it properly, a bad side effect can occur. We
might say, "Oh, everything's emptiness. I can do whatever I
like." So we ignore and violate the details of karma, the
responsibility for our action. We become "inelegant," and we
discourage others in the bargain. His Holiness the Dalai Lama
often speaks of this downfall of not understanding emptiness.
A
correct understanding of emptiness leads us to see how things
are related, and how we are responsible for our world.
You can read millions of pages on this subject. Nagarjuna
alone wrote five different commentaries mostly dedicated to
this, and then there are the commentaries by his followers.
There are endless teachings on establishing this view. In
Mahayana temples or monasteries people chant the
Prajnaparamita
Heart Sutra - this is also a teaching on the third seal.
Philosophies or religions might say, "Things are
illusion, the world is maya, illusion," but there are always
one or two items left behind that are regarded as truly
existent: God, cosmic energy, whatever. In Buddhism, this is
not
the case. Everything in samsara and nirvana - from the
Buddha's head to a piece of bread - everything is emptiness.
There is nothing that is not included in ultimate truth.
Question: If we ourselves are dualistic, can we ever
understand emptiness, which is something beyond description?
Buddhists are very slippery. You're right. You can
never talk about absolute emptiness, but you can talk about
an
"image" of emptiness'something that you can evaluate and
contemplate so that, in the end, you can get to the real
emptiness. You may say, "Ah, that's just too easy; that's
such crap." But to that the Buddhists say, "Too bad,
that's how things work." If you need to meet someone whom
you have never met, I can describe him to you or show you a
photograph of him. And with the help of that photo image, you
can go and find the real person.
Ultimately speaking, the path is irrational, but
relatively speaking, it's very rational because it uses the
relative conventions of our world. When I'm talking about
emptiness, everything that I'm saying has to do with this
"image" emptiness. I can't show you real emptiness but I
can tell you why things don't exist inherently.
In Buddhism there's so much iconography that you might
think it was the object of meditation or an object of
worship.
But, from your teaching, am I to understand that this is all
non-existent?
When you go to a temple, you will see many beautiful
statues, colors and symbols. These are important for the
path.
These all belong to what we call "image-wisdom,"
"image-emptiness." However, while we follow the path and
apply its methods, it is important to know that the path
itself
is ultimately an illusion. Actually, it is only then that we
can
properly appreciate it.
The Fourth Seal
Nirvana is Beyond Extremes
Now that I have explained emptiness, I feel that the
fourth seal, "Nirvana is beyond extremes," has also been
covered. But briefly, this last seal is also something
uniquely
Buddhist. In many philosophies or religions, the final goal
is
something that you can hold on to and keep. The final goal is
the only thing that truly exists. But nirvana is not
fabricated,
so it is not something to be held on to. It is referred to as
"beyond extremes."
We somehow think that we can go somewhere where we'll
have a better sofa seat, a better shower system, a better
sewer
system, a nirvana where you don't even have to have a remote
control, where everything is there the moment you think of
it.
But as I said earlier, it's not that we are adding something
new that was not there before. Nirvana is achieved when you
remove everything that was artificial and obscuring.
It doesn't matter whether you are a monk or a nun who
has renounced worldly life or you are a yogi practicing
profound
tantric methods. If, when you try to abandon or transform
attachment to your own experiences, you don't understand
these
four seals, you end up regarding the contents of your mind as
the manifestations of something evil, diabolical and bad. If
that's what you do, you are far from the truth. And the whole
point of Buddhism is to make you understand the truth. If
there
were some true permanence in compounded phenomena; if there
were
true pleasure in the emotions, the Buddha would have been the
first to recommend them, saying, "Please keep and treasure
these." But thanks to his great compassion, he didn't, for
he wanted us to have what is true, what is real.
When you have a clear understanding of these four seals
as the ground of your practice, you will feel comfortable no
matter what happens to you. As long as you have these four as
your view, nothing can go wrong. Whoever holds these four, in
their heart, or in their head, and contemplates them, is a
Buddhist. There is no need for such a person even to be called
a
Buddhist. He or she is by definition a follower of the Buddha.
Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse
Rinpoche was born in
Bhutan in 1961 and was recognized as the second reincarnation
of
the nineteenth-century master Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo. He has
studied with and been empowered by some of the greatest
Tibetan
masters of this century, notably the late Dilgo Khyentse
Rinpoche and the late Dudjom Rinpoche. Dzongsar Khyentse
Rinpoche supervises his traditional seat of Dzongsar
Monastery
in Eastern Tibet, as well as newly established colleges in
India
and Bhutan. He has also established meditation centers in
Australia, North America and the Far East. Recently, Dzongsar
Khyentse Rinpoche won critical acclaim for his first feature
length movie,
The
Cup
, produced under his
name Khyentse Norbu.
Further information on Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche and his
activities is available at www.siddharthasintent.org. This
article is based on a talk entitled,
"What Buddhism Is, and Is
Not,"
given in Sydney,
Australia in April of 1999.
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