It's easy to indulge in chocolate and flowers and beautiful music and beautiful babies without questioning. I tend to think it's a shame that some religious people turn to prayer and practice only when things are at a low, as if someone were keeping track and were going to be mad that the person always takes and never gives. I think we all know that's not true. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think those out there who believe in God, truly, believe in a non-judgemental, all-forgiving being who couldn't care less whether or not they were fervent practitioners or just trying to get saved in a pinch. But it is a shame that we so easily forget the truth of the world as long as things are going our way.
Nothing is stable. Nothing has a self. Everything is empty. These are the things I have learned and the bases of my faith. The most recent teachings I took in, from the Dalai Lama in Nantes, were largely about emptiness. You know, there was not very much new information for me in the teachings, but I find it so important to be reminded of my general ignorance of the truth by having someone explain it all over again, in a way that makes perfect sense and doesn't just have me blindly believing in some doctrine.
It's pretty simple, really, if you want it to be: There are two levels of reality, one of which is appearance, the other of which is emptiness, and there is no difference whatsoever between appearance and emptiness. So, just as something appears to our senses (like a teacup for example) and that appearance is true, it also has no reality of its own, no independent, unchanging self-nature. And that is also true. This is what Buddhists call the middle way, since it negates neither existence nor nonexistence. Things exist. But things are empty.
If you doubt or don't agree that things are empty, consider the existence of anything you want (like a teacup). Has it always existed and is it going to last forever? If not (and it's probably not), are there some conditions for its coming together and passing away? Is it in the same state right now as it was ten years ago or even as it will be this evening, when the dishes are done? Consider what physical science has taught us, too. When we break it down under a microscope, there are tinier and tinier pieces of teacup, pieces of molecules, pieces of atoms and nuclei, but those pieces have no actual, physical substance. And quantum physics has shown us that particles do their thing only in relation to other particles, and that particles doing their thing are simply a reflection of their environment.
The thing that was new to me, the gem of knowledge that I gleaned from His Holiness' teachings, is referred to as the emptiness of emptiness. In the most densely true passage I've come across in my studies, Nagarjuna says:
Whatever is dependently co-arisenI love how "that" in the third line is ambiguous, referring to either that which is dependently co-arisen (arisen in response to many, many causes and conditions coming together at the same time), or to that which is explained to be emptiness. Either appearance or emptiness. It doesn't matter which one "that" refers to, since the point here is that they are exactly the same thing. These words - "emptiness", "dependent", "that" - are just designations, just words. They appear as such, but they are empty.
That is explained to be emptiness.
That, being a dependent designation,
Is itself the middle way.
In this way, Nagarjuna shows that emptiness is not itself any more true than appearance, that in fact they are one and the same thing. And it's true, when you think about it, that we could never really know the first thing about how things (like teacups) are empty if there were no empty things (like teacups) appearing before us. It would be good if it were so easy to see the emptiness nature of that which appears before us.
At times we search for emptiness nature and we trust or know it's there, just like (as Angela would say) we know there is a roof over our heads even when our eyes are closed. During particularly enlightened moments, we know it directly and very well. But it's not easy to even begin the search when delights like local chocolate are laid out in front of us and we intend to enjoy them. Nothing wrong with enjoying them! But eventually, the truth will be known (like today, for instance, there are no more delicious desserts in my kitchen!), so perhaps it's in our best interest to familiarize ourselves with it before falling into disappointment and regret. I think it's a huge part of the path.
And that's what I learned in Nantes. Thanks for bearing with me. Sarva mangalam!
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