There are these five rewards in listening to the Dharma. Which five?
Firstly, one hears what one has not heard before. By listening to the teachings, individuals are exposed to new insights and wisdom that they had not previously encountered, enriching their understanding and broadening their perspective.
Secondly, one clarifies what one has heard before. The act of listening allows individuals to deepen their comprehension and gain clarity on teachings they may have heard previously but did not fully understand. This repetition and elaboration help solidify their grasp of the concepts.
Thirdly, one gets rid of doubt. The Dharma provides answers and explanations that resolve uncertainties and questions in the listener’s mind. Through the teachings, one finds reassurance and a clearer path forward, dispelling confusion and hesitation.
Fourthly, one’s views are made straight. Listening to the Dharma helps align one’s thoughts and beliefs with the truth. It corrects misconceptions and guides the listener toward right understanding, ensuring that their views are in harmony with the teachings.
Lastly, one’s mind grows serene. The wisdom imparted through the Dharma brings peace and tranquility to the mind. As one absorbs and reflects on the teachings, the agitation and restlessness of the mind diminish, leading to a state of calm and serenity.
These are the five rewards in listening to the Dharma. Each reward contributes to the listener’s spiritual growth and well-being, making the practice of attentive listening profoundly beneficial.
The “Ten Paths to Happiness” sutra, where an eight-year-old girl named Sumati asks Buddha ten profound questions. These questions explore essential aspects of human life and happiness, and Buddha provides insightful answers. This sutra is significant as it presents complex philosophical ideas in an accessible manner through the dialogue between Buddha and a child.
Thus have I heard. At one time, the Buddha was in the city of Rājagṛha, on the mountain of Gṛdhrakūṭa, along with a great assembly of bhikṣus, twelve hundred and fifty people in all. The bodhisattva-mahāsattvas there numbered ten thousand in all.
At that time in the city of Rājagṛha, there was a laywoman named Sumati, who was in her eighth year. Her appearance and features were upright, colorful, and beautiful, appearing so nice that those who saw her were happy. Already, she had approached and made offerings before innumerable buddhas of the past, planting good roots. When that maiden went to the place of the Tathāgata, she bowed her head at the feet of the Buddha, and then circled around him three full times to the right. Kneeling with palms joined, she spoke a gāthā:
Anuttarā Samyaksaṃbodhi Is a lamp for the entire world! Of the practices of a bodhisattva, I wish you would hear my questions!
The Buddha said to Sumati, “You may now ask questions as you like, and the answers will cut through your net of doubts.” At that time, Sumati went before the Buddha and spoke a gāthā to inquire:
How can one attain upright features And a body of wealth and nobility? Moreover, what causes and conditions Make kinship difficult to destroy?
How may one perceive oneself Receiving birth by transformation, Arising from a thousand-petaled lotus flower, And giving reverence to the bhagavāns face-to-face?
How is one able to attain realization Of supreme and sovereign superknowledge, And go off to innumerable lands To pay homage to the buddhas?
How can one attain blamelessness, So that others will have belief, Purely removing obstacles to the Dharma And forever departing from the deeds of Māra?
How is one able, at the end of life, To attain perception of the buddhas, Hear the speech of the pure Dharma, And not be subject to suffering?
Great compassionate supremely honored one, I merely wish you would speak of these for me!
At that time, the Buddha spoke to the maiden Sumati, saying, “Excellent, excellent! It is good that you are able to ask about such profound matters. Now listen carefully, listen carefully and well mindfully, and I will tell you.” Sumati then spoke, saying, “Just so, Bhagavān. We are joyfully wishing to hear it.”
The Buddha told Sumati, “A bodhisattva who accomplishes four dharmas receives an upright body. What are these four? [1] The first is not giving rise to a mind of hatred for bad friends. [2] The second is to abide in great kindness. [3] The third is to have profound delight in the correct Dharma. [4] The fourth is to create images of the Buddha.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva who accomplishes four dharmas will attain a body that is rich and noble. What are these four? [1] The first is that you should give timely gifts. [2] The second is to do so without a mind of disdain for others. [3] The third is to do so with happiness. [4] The fourth is to do so without expecting any reward.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva who accomplishes four dharmas will attain birth by transformation before the buddhas, seated upon a lotus flower. What are these four? [1] The first is to give flowers, fruit, and fine powdered incense as offerings to the Tathāgata and to the stūpas. [2] The second is not to tell lies or harm others. [3] The third is to make images of the Tathāgata placed within a lotus flower. [4] The fourth is to give rise to profound and pure faith in the bodhi of the buddhas.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva who accomplishes four dharmas may travel from one buddha-land to another buddha-land. What are these four? [1] The first is to not perceive others’ cultivation of goodness as obstruction or annoyance. [2] The second is to never hinder others when they are expounding the Dharma. [3] The third is to burn lamps and make offerings to the stūpas of the Tathāgata. [4] The fourth is to constantly strive to cultivate the dhyānas.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva accomplishes four dharmas for the station of blamelessness in the world. What are these four? [1] The first is to draw near to virtuous friends without a mind of flattery. [2] The second is to not have a mind of jealousy regarding others’ excellence in the Dharma. [3] The third is to always be happy when others receive honors and recognition. [4] The fourth is to not vainly criticize the practices of a bodhisattva.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva accomplishes four dharmas for his speech to be believed by others. What are these four? [1] The first is develop speech and cultivation always in unison. [2] The second is to not do evil things to virtuous friends. [3] The third is to not find faults in the Dharma one has heard. [4] The fourth is to not give rise to a mind of evil for one who speaks the Dharma.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva accomplishes four dharmas for being able to leave obstacles to the Dharma and quickly attain purity. What are these four? [1] The first is to accept the Threefold Discipline with profound conviction. [2] The second is that one does not give rise to slander for extremely profound sūtras. [3] The third is to perceive the newly-developed intention of a bodhisattva as the arising of the mind of omniscience. [4] The fourth is regarding sentient beings with great kindness and equanimity.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva accomplishes four dharmas for being apart from māras. What are these four? [1] The first is to fully know the equality of the nature of dharmas. [2] The second is to give rise to determination. [3] The third is to constantly strive to be mindful of the Buddha. [4] The fourth is to transfer over all good roots.”
“Moreover, Sumati, a bodhisattva accomplishes four dharmas so that at the end of life, the buddhas manifest before him. What are these four? [1] The first is to fulfill the wishes of others by giving what they are seeking. [2] The second is giving rise to profound faith and understanding of good dharmas. [3] The third is to give adornments to the bodhisattvas. [4] The fourth is to diligently make offerings to the Triple Gem.”
At that time, the maiden Sumati heard what the Buddha had spoken, and said, “Bhagavān, as the Buddha has spoken of the practices of a bodhisattva, so will I practice them! Bhagavān, among these forty practices, if there is one that is lacking or uncultivated, then this will be conflicting with the Buddha’s teachings and deceiving the Tathāgata.”
At that time, Venerable Mahāmaudgalyāyana spoke to Sumati, saying, “The practice of a bodhisattva is extremely difficult to carry out. You are now developing this extraordinary great aspiration. How will you attain accomplish mastery over this vow?”
Sumati replied, “Venerable, if my great aspiration is true and not void, able to bring these practices to complete fulfillment, then may the three thousand great thousand-worlds shake in six directions, and the heavens rain wondrous flowers, and may the drum of heaven sound of its own accord!” When this had been spoken, flowers fell from the sky like rain, and the drum of heaven sounded of its own accord, and the three thousand great thousand-worlds shook in six directions.
At this time, Sumati again addressed Maudgalyāyana, “From my true words, in a future era I will attain buddhahood, just as Śākyamuni, the Tathāgata. In my land there will be no deeds of Māra, and not even the words for evil destinies, or for women. If what I say is not fabrication, then may the bodies of those in the great assembly all take on a hue of gold!” After speaking this, the assembly took on a hue of gold. At that time, Venerable Mahāmaudgalyāyana then arose from his seat, bared his right shoulder, and bowed with his head at the Buddha’s feet. He spoke saying, “Bhagavān, from these things I have developed the mind of a bodhisattva and even that of the assembly of bodhisattva-mahāsattvas!”
At that time, Dharma Prince Mañjuśrī spoke to Sumati, saying, “In what dharma do you abide to make this sincere aspiration?” Sumati replied, saying, “Mañjuśrī, it is not proper to ask this. Why? This is because in the Dharma Realm there is nothing which abides.” He also asked, “Then what is Bodhi?” She answered, “The non-differentiation of dharmas is what is called Bodhi.” He also asked, “Then what is it that is called a bodhisattva?” She answered, “A bodhisattva is one who is aware that all dharmas are equal to the manifestation of empty space.” He also asked, “What is it that is called the practice of Bodhi?” She answered, “The practice of Bodhi is like a mirage, or like the echo of a valley.” He also asked, “With what underlying meaning do you say such things?” She answered, “In this I do not perceive even the slightest thing which may be underlying or manifest.”
He also asked, “If it is as you say, then all ordinary people would have Bodhi.” She answered, “You speak of Bodhi as being different from an ordinary person? You should not have this view. Why? These are all of the same characteristic of the Dharma Realm, to be neither grasped nor abandoned, with nothing to accomplish or destroy.” He again asked, “How many beings are able to fully understand your meaning?”
She answered, “Their number is like the number of illusory minds and mental functions. The illusion of sentient beings is already able to understand my meaning.” Mañjuśrī said, “Illusions are without basis, so how can there be such minds and mental dharmas?” She answered, “The Dharma Realm is also such, neither existing nor non-existing, and for the Tathāgata is it also such as this.”
At that time, Mañjuśrī addressed the Buddha, saying, “Bhagavān, this Sumati is extraordinary, even able to accomplish such dharma-patience!” The Buddha said, “Thusly, thusly! What she has spoken is sincere and true. In such a way, this maiden has long since developed the mind of Bodhi, throughout the past thirty eons, even developing the destiny of my supreme Bodhi, causing such abiding in the patience of the non-arising of dharmas.”
Jeffrey Hopkins, a brilliant scholar, author, teacher, and translator who founded one of the largest Tibetan Buddhist Studies programs in the West, died on July 1 in Vancouver, Canada. He was 83.
For more than three decades, beginning in 1973, Hopkins was a leading light at the University of Virginia. He directed UVA’s Center for South Asian Studies for twelve years and taught Tibetan Buddhist studies and Tibetan language for thirty-two years, but his signature achievement was the Tibetan Buddhist studies doctoral program he established in 1975, which became the largest in North America. Among its graduates are some of the most esteemed academics in the field today, including Anne C. Klein of Rice University, Donald Lopez of the University of Michigan, Georges Dreyfus of Williams College, and Bryan Cuevas of Florida State University. Hopkins’s program, by placing Tibetan Buddhism (rather than Indian, Chinese, or Japanese Buddhism) at its center and bringing prominent Tibetan masters from India to Charlottesville to teach the classic texts of that tradition, “changed the way Buddhism is taught in the American academy,” Donald Lopez says.
Hopkins’s singular force was evident from the moment he arrived at UVA in 1973. Lopez, a senior when Hopkins joined the faculty, remembers:
Despite being a newly arrived assistant professor, he immediately gained a large following among the “Be Here Now” crowd. By the second semester, students were walking around campus wearing buttons that said, “Buddha’s Slogan: Dependent Arising.” In a men’s room on campus one day I noticed something written on a urinal. Assuming it said “R. Mutt” [as Marcel Duchamp had signed his urinal artwork, “The Fountain”], I went closer and saw that it was four words stamped in red letters: “DOES NOT INHERENTLY EXIST.” Inspired by such visions, I wrote my senior thesis, master’s thesis, and doctoral dissertation under Hopkins’s direction.
Convinced that scholars of Tibet must be able to both read classical Tibetan and speak modern Tibetan, Hopkins established the first Tibetan language program at UVA and coauthored a comprehensive language course, Fluent Tibetan: A Proficiency Oriented Learning System. He also compiled a 900-page Tibetan-Sanskrit-English dictionary of Buddhist terms that is posted online.
During his career, Hopkins also held visiting professorships at the University of Hawaii and the University of British Columbia. After he retired from UVA, he focused on translating. He was the founder and president of the UMA (Union of the Modern and Ancient) Institute for Tibetan Studies and from 2011 directed its Great Books Translation Project, set up to make Tibetan texts freely available.
Hopkins was also a peace and human rights activist and published The Art of Peace, edited from talks at a conference of Nobel laureates he organized in 1998 for UVA and the Institute for Asian Democracy, a Washington, D.C.-based non-profit that promoted self-governance in Asia, particularly in Burma. Hopkins was president of the institute from 1994 to 2000.
One of the most respected Tibetologists of his generation, Hopkins authored, edited, or translated more than fifty books. His extensive published work includes scholarly books on emptiness and tantra, as well as translations of works by such famed figures as Nagarjuna, Chandrakirti, and Tsongkhapa. His first and most influential work was his massive 1973 doctoral dissertation, Meditation on Emptiness, which provided the first detailed presentation of the Geluk synthesis of philosophy and practice. After circulating widely as a bound Xerox copy, it was published by Wisdom Publications in 1983. A fortieth-anniversary edition will be published next year. Much of Hopkins’s work was devoted to the Geluk founder Tsongkhapa, translating major sections of his massive exposition on tantra, Stages of the Path of Mantra. Later he turned to Tsongkhapa’s most beloved work among Geluk scholars, Essence of Eloquence, a text recited from memory by the monks of Ganden Monastery at his funeral in 1419. Although Tsongkhapa’s text is rather brief, Hopkins devoted three large volumes to it: Emptiness in the Mind-Only School, Reflections on Reality: The Three Natures and Non-Natures in the Mind-Only School, and Absorption in No External World.
In 1979, Hopkins was instrumental in arranging His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s first visit to the United States and served as his chief translator from 1979 to 1989 on tours of the US, Canada, Europe, Southeast Asia, and Australia. Hopkins translated and edited His Holiness’s teachings for sixteen books, including The Dalai Lama at Harvard, along with titles aimed at a general audience, such as Kindness, Clarity and Insight; How to See Yourself As You Really Are; How to Practice: The Way to a Meaningful Life, Mind of Clear Light, Mind of Clear Life: Advice on Living Well and Dying Consciously; How to Be Compassionate; and How to Expand Love: Widening the Circle of Loving Relationships.
Hopkins collaborated with the tulkus Lati Rinpoche and Denma Locho Rinpoche on Meditative States in Tibetan Buddhism, based on a text by the Geluk master Panchen Sonam Drakpa. With the Nyingma lama Khetsun Sangpo he published Tantric Practice in Nyingma, a translation of a famous work by Patrul Rinpoche that would later be translated as Words of My Perfect Teacher.
Born Paul Jeffrey Hopkins in 1940, he grew up in Barrington, Rhode Island. A rebellious youth, he was a member of what he later described as a “suburban gang . . . disgusted by the aims that were being presented to us: merely making money and so forth.” Hopkins was then sent to Pomfret, a prep school in Connecticut, where he thrived. During his freshman year at Harvard, he read Thoreau’s Walden and retreated to the woods of Vermont, where he lived in a one-room cabin, wrote poetry, and “began finding my own integrity,” he later told an interviewer. Further inspired by Herman Melville’s Typee and W. Somerset Maugham’s The Moon and Sixpence, he hopped a freighter to Tahiti. It was during this period that Hopkins began meditating—in a fashion.
Hopkins returned to Harvard after a year and a half, then between his junior and senior years, took off again. While floating down a river in Oklahoma, he saw a dead man propped up on a bank. It was a turning point. “I suddenly realized that his last perception in this lifetime would be no fuller than any of his other perceptions,” he recalled. “I began to recognize the ultimate futility of external activities and to turn my attention inward, to a light within. When I returned to Harvard in the fall of 1962, it was as if a coffin had been opened. I had been living my life in a coffin and had not recognized the presence of the sky.”
During Christmas vacation from college that year, a classmate drove Hopkins to Freewood Acres, New Jersey, to meet Geshe Wangyal, a Kalmyk Mongolian Tibetan Buddhist who had established a monastery there in 1958. In 1963, after graduating magna cum laude from Harvard—an English major, Hopkins won the Leverett House Poetry Prize for his translation of the Anglo-Saxon poem “The Wanderer”—Hopkins spent seven years studying with Geshe Wangyal in New Jersey. After a false start in graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania, he enrolled in the doctoral program at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
Later, Hopkins called his time in the Buddhist Studies program at Wisconsin as “thrilling in many ways and . . . certainly a crucial choice for my career.” At Hopkins’s urging, Richard Robinson, the head of the Buddhist Studies program, hired Geshe Lhundup Sopa, a Geluk scholar who had been living at the Kalmyk monastery in New Jersey. He was instrumental in the hiring of renowned tantric master Kensur Ngawang Lekden, former abbot of the Tantric College of Lower Lhasa. Anne Klein, then a master’s candidate at Wisconsin, recalls that Hopkins, with Robinson, “founded Tibet House on a farm outside Madison, where Kensur, Jeffrey, and grad students could live, learn Tibetan, and share kitchen duties. Jeffrey served ice cream on small, flat plates, which, as Kensur demonstrated with delight, meant you could lick them clean.” Hopkins read with Kensur daily, Klein remembers, material that formed his dissertation, Meditation on Emptiness.
Throughout his career, Hopkins’s interest in Buddhist studies was broad, encompassing South Asia, Tibet, and East Asia. He was the recipient of three Fulbright fellowships and made twelve trips to India and five to Tibet for research.
As a translator, Hopkins had an approach unusual among his peers at the time: working closely with Tibetan scholars and regarding them not as “native informants” but as collaborative partners. “I thought it was . . . extremely important to treat every Tibetan scholar fairly, to give them credit for their part in producing any book,” he said. “If I couldn’t understand the text without somebody informing me of its meaning, then that person has played an equal role in its translation even if they don’t know English.”
In 1991, Hopkins suffered a debilitating, near-fatal case of Lyme disease that temporarily left him partially paralyzed with noticeable mental gaps. He recovered, but “I had to reconstruct my mind,” he later told Tibetan Buddhist nun Robina Courtin. “In any field, I had to consciously make a logical connection, and then once the connection had been made, that area was reopened.” What saved him, he ventured, was a habit formed in his years at the monastery in New Jersey: repeating the intelligence mantra of Manjushri, bodhisattva of wisdom, aimed at enhancing mental acuity: Om ah ra pa tsa na dhih. “I overheard Geshe Wangyal tell one Mongolian boy who was having trouble memorizing it, ‘Then do dhih dhih dhih . . . endlessly,’ ” he recalled.
When we were young, our parents and elders all taught us not to lie. Many stories and fairy tales illustrate the consequences of lying, such as a child being eaten by a wolf or having a long nose like Pinocchio. Different cultures and religions praise honesty and disapprove of liars. However, most of us have told a lie at one time or another, often to gain an immediate benefit, without realizing that the long-term consequences of lying can be very costly. In Buddhism, one of the ten precepts is to abstain from lying.
There is a recorded story in a Buddhist sutra about Shakyamuni Buddha teaching his son to refrain from lying.
The Buddha’s son, Rahula, was quite mischievous in his youth. He often enjoyed playing pranks on others, using deceptive words to tease people. For instance, when someone came to see the Buddha, Rahula, knowing that the Buddha was not present, would intentionally mislead them about the Buddha’s whereabouts, causing them to search in vain for amusement.
When the Buddha learned of this, he asked Rahula to bring him some water to wash his feet. After washing his feet, the Buddha pointed to the water and asked Rahula, “Can this water be drunk?”
Rahula replied, “The water is dirty from washing feet; it cannot be drunk.”
The Buddha then asked, “Can this basin, used for washing feet, be used to hold food?”
Rahula replied, “No, it cannot. The basin is dirty and cannot be used to hold food.”
The Buddha sternly said, “You are like this water. The water was originally very clean, just as you were originally a prince, able to renounce the false glories of the world and become a monk. But if you do not diligently pursue the path, do not purify your body and mind, and do not speak carefully, the impurities of the three poisons will fill your heart, just like the clean water being soiled by washing dirty feet. You are like this basin. Although you have become a monk, if you do not practice precepts, concentration, and wisdom, and do not purify your body, speech, and mind, how can the food of the Great Path fill your heart?” After speaking, the Buddha kicked the basin, causing it to roll. Rahula was very frightened. The Buddha asked, “Are you afraid the basin will break?”
Rahula replied, “No, the basin is a coarse utensil; it doesn’t matter if it breaks.”
The Buddha said, “Rahula, you don’t cherish this basin, just as people will not cherish you. As a monk, if you do not uphold dignity and discipline, and speak deceitfully, the consequence is that no one will care for you or value you. When your life ends, you will not attain enlightenment, but will only increase your delusion.”
From then on, Rahula changed his mischievous ways, strictly observed the precepts, and diligently practiced the path.
According to the teachings of the Buddhist sutras, we should take a long-term view and consider the consequences of lying for both this life and future lives.
In this life, if we frequently lie, deceive, or slander others, we will inevitably face retaliation from those we have wronged. In the mundane world, most people are naturally inclined to protect themselves and have a tendency for “an eye for an eye” revenge, unless they are saints who have subdued their own minds. If we deceive others, the victims, unwilling to be deceived, will expose our misdeeds among people. As word spreads from one to ten and from ten to a hundred, our bad reputation will quickly become widespread. Our credibility will be utterly destroyed, and our trustworthiness will plummet. From then on, even if we speak the truth, it will be seen as a lie, and people will be wary of us to avoid being deceived. No one will trust us. In such a predicament, we will constantly feel the pain of isolation and helplessness. Our lives will shrink, and our careers will suffer as a result.
In future lives, under the influence of the dark karma of lying, one will inevitably fall into the three lower realms. When the bad karma diminishes and one is reborn as a human, the residual effects of lying will manifest in various speech-related congenital obstacles in both body and mind. These may include having an impaired tongue root, stuttering, or unclear speech. Additionally, there will be a habitual tendency to lie, and sometimes, even when one wishes to speak the truth, it will come out as a lie involuntarily. In interactions with others, one will frequently be slandered and deceived. Even when speaking the truth, people will not believe it. Moreover, even when preaching the true Dharma, others will be unwilling to listen.
Dechen Shak-Dagsay is a Swiss-Tibetan musician and author. Over the past few decades, she has built a career in music by combining the Tibetan mantra transmissions passed down by her father, Ven. Dagsay Rinpoche, with innovative melodies and contemporary instrumental productions. She has also engaged in collaborative projects with other spirituality-inspired musicians. Having lived in Switzerland for most of her life, Dechen is one of the most prominent contemporary Tibetan singers in Europe today, and has also become globally recognized through various music awards, and for having performed songs from her albums Jewel and Day Tomorrow at Carnegie Hall in New York. Dechen is also the founder of the Dewa Che charity organization, which engages in social projects in Tibet.
Dechen’s newest album, emaho – The Story of Arya Tara, released in October 2021, is about the enlightened activity of the Vajrayana goddess Tara and contains a musical rendition of the “21 Praises of Tara.” BDG recently had a chance to speak with Dechen about her latest project.
BDG: You’ve sung about Tara on various albums before, but this new album is devoted specifically to her story. What do you find inspiring about this female buddha?
Dechen Shak-Dagsay: I have had a wish for many years now to share the extraordinary story of Goddess Arya Tara, the gentle-yet-indomitable princess who became a female buddha. The mythic story goes back many eons in ancient India, where she was called Princess Jhana-Chandra, which means Wisdom-Moon. In Tibetan, her name is Yischi Dawa, and it touches me profoundly that, out of a deep sense of compassion, she would not even eat breakfast before she had liberated hundreds of thousands of beings from samsara each day. She was a faithful disciple of her teacher Buddha Dundubhisvara, and her entire community admired her.
One day, the monks urged her to make an aspiration (vyakarana) to be reborn as a man in her next life in order to attain full enlightenment. The princess laughed at this sexist exhortation and replied: “There is no male, there is no female. To discriminate between male and female is the mind of a small being. There are neither men nor women, nor a self, nor beings.” She vowed to return again and again in a female form in order to help all beings from suffering and to reach enlightenment in female form. Therefore, her teacher, Dundubhisvara, gave her the name Tara, which means “Swift Liberator.”
Tara’s story reminds us every day that we are all equally beautiful beings blessed with great inner qualities, such as love, compassion, kindness, and clarity. These qualities are just waiting to be rediscovered and nurtured.
BDG: Your album emaho captures a profound thought: “What an amazing, wondrous moment when the mind awakens.” How does the music create a mood and ambience in which the listener can realize this moment for themselves?
DSD:Emaho is indeed not an ordinary word. It is found in ancient Tibetan spiritual texts and is an exclamation of joy and amazement when the obscured mind awakens and experiences the pure, clear, and bright shining light of the true nature of our mind.
Personally, I find that each of the eight pieces hold beautiful emaho moments for the listeners. As with all my previous albums, I received the texts for this exalted goddess from my dear father, Ven. Dagsay Rinpoche. It is a great blessing that Rinpoche gave me the transmissions for these beautiful “21 Praises of Tara,” which are practiced in all Tibetan traditions. I also had the privilege of working with Swiss producer Helge van Dyk, who also composed and produced the music of my two previous albums, Jewel and Day Tomorrow.
I said to Helge that I wished to represent the four enlightening activities of Tara in four musical pieces. I cannot thank Helge enough for creating the most sublime music to present the four skillful enlightening activities of Tara: the pacifying, enriching, magnetizing, and wrathful aspects.
When you listen to emaho – The Story of Arya Tara, my hope is that you will enter the wonderful, unique space and landscape of Tara’s buddha-field, and perceive her different fields of activities through the following musical compositions.
“emaho – an Amazing One” – “The Wisdom of Tara” – Tara’s magnetizing activities. Audio courtesy of VANDYKMUSIC
“emaho – an Amazing One” – Tara’s enriching activities. Audio courtesy of VANDYKMUSIC
“emaho – an Amazing One” – “Magic Pulse” (of Prayer Drumming) – Tara’s wrathful activities. Audio courtesy of VANDYKMUSIC
BDG: How do you think the spirit of emaho can help heal our fractured and hurting world, which is now immersed in COVID-19 and a range of other immense crises?
DSD: We generally believe in the great healing power of the Buddha’s teachings, especially when the world is going through a difficult time. We are still in a worldwide pandemic, and we constantly face threats of natural calamities and other crises.
The whole world has faced unprecedented challenges over the last two years, and we are still trying to find solutions for how to handle them. From a worldly point of view, these problems are simply devastating and are creating immense suffering for everyone. But from a Buddhist view, such challenges are exactly what we call “precious moments” for our minds to awaken and to encourage a total reset in our interior world and inner being. We call these moments precious because they allow us to open our hearts to the Buddha’s teachings, such as the Three Marks of Existence. Recalling them always has an instant healing effect on me:
• Impermanence (Skt: anitya): Nothing stays the same, everything is constantly changing.
• Whatever we experience is marked with some kind of suffering. As long as we identify ourselves with a sense of solid self, we will always suffer (dukkha).
• Everything around us and even our own person is empty of a self (anatman).
Dechen Shak-Dagsay. Image courtesy of VANDYKMUSIC
Together with Helge and other musicians, we created emaho in the hope that it will be a small contribution to helping us all through these troubled times together.
We hope to be able to bring calm and peace into people’s hearts. We will not be able to get rid of COVID-19, or the economic, social, and political fallout it has caused, but the music that carries the blessings of Arya Tara, the Swift Liberator, will help us all to overcome our fears, sadness, frustration, and pain to create some space in our hearts and to rebalance our minds. It is within this calm space that we will be able to tap into our innate beauty and strength. We all need this to transform our pain and negative thoughts, and to calmly face and embrace the difficult times ahead of us; to fully become aware of our own inner qualities.
The release of the new double album was followed by the release of my new book, Mantras, Musik & Magic Moments, in December 2021, in which I write about the healing aspects of the old Tibetan mantras, and why I chose music as a tool to reach people’s hearts. I also talk about how Tibetan healing symbols have carried sacred power for centuries. I began making mantra music about two decades ago, and I hope followers will enjoy this new perspective I am offering through my work.
BDG: Your music has been received very well worldwide and your profile has also been rising in Asia. Do you present your music as non-denominational and embracing of all Buddhist traditions, even while it expresses your Tibetan heritage?
DSD: Although I am very rooted in Tibetan or Vajrayana Buddhism, I embrace all Buddhist traditions. My dear father Dagsay Rinpoche, who lives in Chengdu, always reminded us that the essence of the Buddha’s teachings is non-violence and cultivating love and compassion for all beings. All Buddhist traditions, including the Tibetan heritage, are following this beautiful path. It is my wish to one day come to Asia to meet all my Asian friends and to perform my music in Asia together with the Jewel Ensemble.
In my third piece on disc two, called “Peace of Mind,” I sing a “Praise to the 21 Taras” in Chinese and in Tibetan. It is my deep wish to create a wonderful space of peace, respect, and reconciliation.
BDG: You’ve come together with various artists to create a fusion of music. These artists also tend to have a spiritual flavor to their work. How do you decide to work with an artist? How do you identify a potential collaboration?
DSD: Thank you for sensing what I see as a very special energy to our music. I am very thankful to Helge, who has a distinct talent in finding the right artists for a special collaboration that requires not only technical musical skills, but also an open heart that is fully inspired to play soulful music with us. He has carefully selected outstanding musicians to form the Jewel Ensemble, with whom we have played many concerts all around the world. I feel very privileged to have the following members of the Jewel Ensemble, as well as an extended ensemble that we shared the stage with when playing the Call for Peace concerts with the renowned Zurich Chamber Orchestra (ZKO).
I would like to take this opportunity to thank my Jewel Ensemble musicians and guest musicians from around the world for their beautiful contributions on emaho. It has been such an honor to work with all these outstanding artists, who committed their heartful work to this album.* I would like to thank BDG for opening the door to the story of Arya Tara. I would be very happy if this music finds its way across Asia, and I would like to thank all my musicians, my producer Helge, and my dear father Dagsay Rinpoche for letting me create such precious music. I hope it will help to remind people all around the world of their own inner strength and beauty.
A commonly held view is that the body houses the soul—but have you ever thought that the soul could live elsewhere? I have experienced that feeling. Although my body was born in 1981 to my German mother in Brazil, where I grew up, 18 years later I had an “encounter” with my soul’s home in Mongolia. For almost a year, my family and I traveled east by motorhome from Germany and right across Russia. Reaching the border between Russia and western Mongolia, it took days just to receive permission to cross. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, we feared we might never make it! Finally a drunken general provided the necessary authorization and we drove freely onwards into Mongolia, sometimes without a visible road in front of us.
Beneath the expansive blue sky that crowned the arid landscape, my happy tears fell like rain. Those tears nourished a hungry artistic seed within me that desired to grow in the direction of the sunshine; to follow a path to spiritual liberation through art. I believed in such a path and it made sense to me, but until then I hadn’t known how to go about following it. Once in Mongolia, however, I was introduced by a monk at Gandantegchinlen Monastery in Ulaanbaatar to the sacred art of thangka painting, which depicts the various Buddhas, spirits, enlightened beings, and spiritual worlds of Tibetan Buddhism. I had been seeking an artistic discipline of some kind that would guide me to the divine, and this was it!
One of the paintings by Tiffani at Lama Padma Samten’s temple in Brazil
Nevertheless, it was a long road before I was accepted three years later as the first Western student at the Norbulingka Institute, founded by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, near Dharamsala in northern India. I have traveled all my life—even living for a few months with an aborigine community in the Australian outback, and spending a couple of years on a sailboat on the Brazilian coast during my teens—but India was beyond anything I could have imagined. I was sick for the first three months I spent there, during which time the school was unsure whether to accept me or not. Even my mother urged me to go home. But something inside me was unmoved by all these “tests.” I felt that if I went back, my soul would abandon my body.
I was finally accepted as a student at the Norbulingka Institute in September 2003. All the wise and holy artists I had expected to meet turned out to be mostly teenagers eager to meet a girl—a blond girl—in the studio at last. Gen-la, the master, was initially somewhat reticent, and we didn’t even share a common language. He gestured towards a Buddha face made up of many symmetrical lines and then pointed to a blank sheet of paper, so I sat on the floor near him and started to sketch. The first word I learned in Tibetan from Gen-la was “again!”—do it again! And so I did, for weeks, the same drawing over and over again until Gen-la would give me my next project.
Painting class at the Norbulingka Institute, 2005
My apprenticeship during the three years I spent there was very slow and painstaking. It was essentially this atmosphere that molded my predisposition to understand that painting a thangka is a spiritual practice in itself; the thangka is there for you to give your time and attention to, and to house your soul. It is a sacred art with a unique function. If you do not have that understanding in the very depth of your being, you will soon abandon the training. Some do not even consider thangka painting to be art, but a practice involving paint that has the same aim as any other Buddhist practice. It was a year before Gen-la even called me by my name; until then he just called me “intchi bhumo,” or “foreign girl.” And it was more than a year before I actually even touched paint, and then only because one of my classmates hid me behind a big canvas and started to teach me himself. Gen-la was actually proud of my boldness when he found out, and finally guided me on my first proper painting. Those were precious times; I was truly happy despite the difficulties I experienced, and my certainty of being on the right track never wavered.
In 2006 I returned to Brazil to discover that I was pregnant. In October that year, a little boy of Tibetan-Brazilian-German heritage was born. His father came over and we lived together for a few years until he moved to the United States to join a larger Tibetan community. Back in Brazil I was fearful that I would have to stop painting—I was 24 with a baby and no money, and all I knew how to do was paint. Afraid that such worries would make me lose my path, I continued to paint my thangkas, my son held close to my body.
When my son was only a few months old, I was contacted by a Brazilian lama—Lama Padma Samten, a disciple of Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche, who had already established a huge sangha. He had heard about me through a mutual friend and sent my son and me tickets to visit his new temple in the south of Brazil. When I finally arrived I was amazed by the size of the temple, which was built to accommodate 300. As I stood there sleep-deprived and perfumed with milk and diapers, he asked me if I would paint the interior walls. I was astonished—but I agreed!
For a month I stood gazing at those terrifyingly huge white walls in fear. I really had no idea how to start! I could not call anyone in India because of the language barrier, and the materials available in Brazil for painting murals wouldn’t be the same as those I was familiar with. So I began slowly, as Gen-la had taught me. First, I met with a local artist to learn more about the proper materials. I learned about the specific deities and mandalas that Lama Samten wished to incorporate. The members of his sangha were very supportive, and many came to help. Those who could give more of their time I trained to paint. Those who couldn’t paint, I asked to massage our aching shoulders, play some instrument or other, give yoga lessons, or even bake a cake for our tea breaks. I felt that everyone should be included. The project took five challenging years to complete, all guided by Lama Samten’s blessings.
As mentioned earlier, those tears in Mongolia had fed the artist within, and now the artist was awake. I soon had the feeling that thangka painting was a “safe zone” for me as the work is all done according to rules that, if followed, offer some guarantee of success. So, in a way, I felt that thangkas had given me discipline and now, only now, was I ready to risk expressing myself. So I began to take more seriously the opportunity to try a more intuitive kind of painting, especially when my personal life was a mess. I was allowed to explode on the canvas, I was allowed to make mistakes . . . I needed to be able to be wrong yet acceptable.
Accumulating a body of art pieces during my free time while painting the temple, with some trepidation I presented my work to Tibet House in New York. I was relieved when they accepted my work and agreed to produce my first show, in 2012—a solo exhibition titled Mystic Nostalgia, in which I sought to express that longing for a lost “home.” Not necessarily a real place; the work is more about our inner landscape . . . a mystic longing. My second exhibition will open at Tibet House on 23 October this year.
Since completing my work at the temple at the end of 2012, I have focused on holding thangka workshops, producing thangkas to order, and taking part in workshops and retreats to teach the intuitive process of self-expression through paint, movement, and writing. I believe the key is maintaining the approach of an apprentice—the beginner’s mind. I feel that I’m learning each time I teach, each time I listen to people, each time I encounter another culture or eat a different food. I learned the benefits of discipline and following rules from the thangka tradition, and when I walk into the unknown with my wild self that sometimes wants its own way, I continue to learn.
Tradition provides us with the roots and structure through which we express ourselves like a hundred branches growing in the air, catching the breeze with their lush leaves. Nourish discipline as much as you nourish your freedom and you’ll soon discover that they are one.
Tiffani Gyatso is a traditional Buddhist thangka painter and a member of the Dakini As Art Collective. To learn more about Tiffani, her work, and Dakini As Art, please visitDakini As Art.
Sister Sun Houfang has gone to the hospital for chemotherapy again. She suffers from leukemia, a disease that is almost a death sentence, but she has miraculously survived. She became a Buddhist disciple in July 2016 and often says, “Others with the same illness as mine have all died, but I am still alive. I want to thank Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III and all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of the ten directions. I also want to bring those with affinity into Buddhism.” No one expected that her friends with affinity would be three Christian friends.
On April 28, 2017, I visited Sister Sun at the hospital again. She was having lunch, so we chatted briefly. I learned that she was scheduled to start chemotherapy medication the next day, and her wardmate, Wei Wenwen, was to be discharged in the afternoon. I sincerely invited them to our Tantric Buddhist Center the next morning to participate in a blessing ceremony. I hoped that through the blessing, they would receive good fortune and have their suffering alleviated. Sister Sun immediately agreed to delay her medication by a day, and Wei Wenwen also wanted to delay her discharge. At this moment, the patient in bed 6, Lu Shaohua, spoke up. She said she was a Christian and did not dare to believe in Buddhism, fearing it would be against her faith. She also mentioned, “A few days ago, I couldn’t sleep at night after arriving here. It was very uncomfortable, and no matter how much I recited the Bible, I couldn’t fall asleep. Ms. Sun suggested I recite the Buddha’s name instead, and after doing so, I was able to sleep.” I said, “That’s great! It shows you have a deep connection with Buddhism. Each of us has our own karmic reasons for our religious beliefs, but regardless of the religion, the key is the benefit we receive from it. In fact, many people don’t know that the Virgin Mary is an incarnation of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva.”
In the Dharma audio teachings of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, there is a story about hundreds of Christian Taiwanese indigenous people converting to Buddhism. This took place in 1995 when H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, visiting Taiwan under the guise of an art delegation, was greeted by the chief of the indigenous group, a devout Christian. (There is a video recording on youtube for this event https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qxdaug7x9IU)
H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III asked, “Have you ever seen the Virgin Mary? If you haven’t, I can invite her to come, and you can meet her.”
The chief responded, “Can I? Even our priest has never seen her!” H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III said, “If I let you see her, will you then take refuge in Buddhism?”
The chief replied, “That would depend on the Virgin Mary’s approval. We have taken vows and been baptized.” H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III said, “Let’s do it this way: let the Virgin Mary tell you what to do, and you can follow her guidance. How about that?” The chief agreed, saying, “Okay!”
At this moment, the chief began to recite the Bible and use his inner power. His Holiness told the chief, “That won’t work.” Then, His Holiness performed a Dharma practice, and the Virgin Mary suddenly appeared standing on a cloud, several dozen feet high, astonishing the chief on the spot!
The Virgin Mary said to the chief, “My child, although I am your Holy Mother, I am also a servant of the Buddha. I am learning Buddhism. You should immediately take refuge before this supreme Buddha, who represents the true Dharma of the Tathagata in this world.”
Hearing this, the chief prostrated himself in full devotion and immediately took refuge. Later, all nine tribes of the indigenous group came to take refuge in His Holiness as their chief king.
Photos from video in youtube
In the Universal Gate chapter of the Lotus Sutra, the Buddha tells the world that Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva will manifest in various forms and save sentient beings according to their different karmic conditions. Any worldly being in danger will be delivered instantly upon calling her name. Therefore, Guanyin has been worshipped and revered by all classes of people. As a compassionate divinity with countless virtues and merits, she is endowed with transcendental power. The Bodhisattva excels in skillful means, allowing the Bodhisattva to appear in whatever form is needed by sentient beings.
After hearing my story, Lu Shaohua seemed to understand something and expressed a willingness to explore Buddhism.
On the morning of April 29, two Christians, accompanied by their families, came to our Tantric Buddhist Center. After everything was prepared, the blessing ceremony began. As we chanted the Heart Sutra, I heard intermittent crying from the crowd.
After the ceremony, I noticed tears still on their faces, but their complexions looked much better than when they first arrived. I asked them, “Did you all cry? How do you feel?” Wei Wenwen said, “I really enjoyed listening to the Heart Sutra. I felt very comfortable and happy here, and I didn’t want to leave.” Lu Shaohua also said, “As soon as I heard it, I couldn’t help but cry. I don’t know why, but it felt like meeting a family member.”
From that moment on, the three Christians—Wei Wenwen, Huang Youyou, and Lu Shaohua—began to listen to the extraordinary Dharma teachings of Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III. Through listening to the Dharma, they understood some principles of karma, realized the impermanence of life, and the illusory nature of dreams and bubbles. They expressed their determination to stop killing, to practice releasing living beings, and to diligently study and practice Buddhism. They even took home Buddha statues to venerate and vowed to take refuge in Buddhism.
Although Buddhism is the teaching of perfect liberation, Christianity is also a good teaching. When Christians shed tears upon hearing Buddhist scriptures and find peace in reciting the Buddha’s name, it indicates their inherent karmic connection to Buddhism. The differences in religious beliefs among sentient beings arise from their various karmic roots and blessings accumulated over countless eons. All good teachings should coexist harmoniously and tolerate each other without rejection, as true good teachings all aim to free sentient beings from suffering and bring them happiness.
In the history of painting in China, many renowned artists have used Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva as a subject for their works. These artistic images are beloved by the people because the Bodhisattva is a symbol of compassion. These exalted artistic images subtly influence the inner world of generations, inspiring and shaping the soul of the nation.
The Mogao Caves in Dunhuang are the largest and most well-preserved repository of Buddhist art in China and the world. Among the murals in the Mogao Caves, there are masterpieces of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva created by painters over the ages, including images of the Water-Moon Guanyin, the White-Robed Guanyin, and the Eleven-Faced Guanyin. It is said that this treasure trove of painting art contains works by masters like Gu Kaizhi and others from various dynasties.
In 1940 Zhang Daqian led a group of artists to the caves of Mogao (莫高) and Yulin (榆林) for the purpose of copying their Buddhist wall paintings. The group completed over 200 paintings, and the experience left Zhang with a repository of religious imagery. He was so captivated by these unparalleled treasures that his original plan to stay for three months extended to two years, during which he dedicated himself to studying and copying the artworks. Today, his paintings of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva are acclaimed as rare and invaluable masterpieces.
The early Tang Dynasty portrait copied by Zhang Daqian is a national first-class cultural relic
Tang Dynasty murals copied by Zhang Daqian
Mid-Tang Dynasty portrait in the Mogao Caves, copied by Zhang Daqian
At International Art Museum of America, there is a painting of Namo Guan Shi Yin Bodhisattva by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III that left a profound impression on me. The portrait is stunningly beautiful, executed with fine brush strokes characteristic of traditional Chinese painting. The artist used very fine and intricate strokes, rendering every detail vividly and perfectly. I could clearly see the hair, the crown, the intricate jewelry, and even the delicate patterns of the flowing ribbons. These details express the painter’s portrayal of Guan Shi Yin Bodhisattva’s meticulous compassion and love for all living beings. The entire portrait appears lifelike, exuding infinite grace, and showcasing the artist’s extraordinary skill, which is beyond perfection.
In this meticulous painting, Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva is depicted wearing white garments, with a serene and compassionate expression, seemingly walking gracefully accompanied by heavenly music. The Bodhisattva’s face is as delicate as powdered jade, with elegant eyebrows and red lips, and eyes that are reserved yet radiate a light of compassion.
The Bodhisattva’s jewelry, including jade pendants, appears to emit a pleasant chime, and the pink and dark green lotus flowers beneath the feet exude a fragrant aroma. The colorful ribbons on the clothing flutter and dance in the gentle breeze. The entire painting exudes an extraordinary and majestic aura. For hundreds of years, the children of China have dreamed countless times of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, as if the Bodhisattva is walking toward us from the vast universe.
Upon closer inspection, one can see that within the Bodhisattva’s hair, there is a small figure of Namo Amitabha Buddha, seated with a solemn and exquisite demeanor, wearing a red robe and sitting on a pink and white lotus platform.
The dark green lotus beneath the Bodhisattva’s left foot, the dark blue floral borders on the clothing, and the flowing black hair form a dynamic contrast with the light yellow-brown background and the white robe. The painting uses a large area of light yellow-brown as the background to highlight the pure and elegant clothing, with bright colors as decorative accents. This creates a composition that is both solemn and sacred, yet luxurious.
The Bodhisattva’s attire occupies a significant portion of the painting. If not handled well, it could make the painting appear empty and lifeless. However, the exceptional artist has seized this opportunity, infusing the clothing with a great amount of high-quality ink and brushwork while maintaining overall brightness. The lively and intricate lines are sometimes like flowing clouds and water, sometimes like gentle clouds, sometimes as soft as a summer breeze, and sometimes as powerful as a rushing waterfall. The interweaving lines, though densely packed, are orderly and harmonious. This extraordinary line drawing technique vividly captures the delicate texture of the gauzy fabric. Lines are the earliest form of language in the history of painting and the soul and framework of meticulous figure painting. As a vital expression in Chinese painting, “lines” have always been highly valued by painters throughout the ages.
H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III‘s meticulous figure painting uses lines that are flexible and varied, not only vividly portraying the image of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva but also precisely conveying the Bodhisattva’s noble and pure spiritual essence. This technique of capturing the divine through form has been the artistic ideal that painters have longed for throughout history. Therefore, this great painting by Namo Qiang Buddha is destined to become a model for future generations to learn from and an immortal classic passed down through the ages.
This great artwork not only provides people with artistic enjoyment but also offers a profound spiritual experience. I stood in front of the painting for a long time, feeling as if I were leaving behind all worldly affairs and immersing myself in the Bodhisattva’s boundless compassion forever.
African indigenous hunters have a unique method for catching monkeys.
First, they find a hole just big enough for a monkey’s hand. They place food that monkeys like inside the hole. When a monkey passes by and sees the food, it reaches in to grab it. With its hand full of food, the monkey’s hand gets stuck in the hole. Most monkeys won’t let go of the food and instead try to pull it out from different angles.
When the hunters arrive, the monkey is still struggling and trapped, making it easy for the hunters to catch it.
Many people’s anxiety and suffering stem from holding on to too many things and being unwilling to let go, which prevents them from truly obtaining what they need.
In reality, letting go appropriately allows us to broaden our horizons, take time to adjust ourselves, and better engage in our current work.
The Young Man and the Zen Master: A Lesson in Detachment
Once upon a time, a young man visited a Zen temple to seek guidance from an old Zen master. On his way, he witnessed an interesting sight and decided to test the master. Upon arriving at the temple, he and the master chatted over tea. Suddenly, the young man asked, “What does ‘going round and round’ mean?”
“It’s because the rope hasn’t been cut,” the Zen master replied casually.
The young man was stunned and amazed. He said, “Master, I am surprised that you knew! Today, on my way here, I saw a cow tied to a tree. The cow wanted to go far to graze, but because the rope was through its nose, it kept going round and round, twisting itself without being able to break free. It was quite amusing. I thought that since you hadn’t seen it, you wouldn’t be able to answer. But you answered correctly right away.”
The Zen master laughed and said, “You asked about an event, and I answered with a principle. You asked about a cow tied by a rope and unable to break free; I answered about the mind being entangled by worldly matters and unable to find liberation. One principle can explain many situations.
“A kite, no matter how high it flies, cannot soar into the vast sky because it is tethered by a string. Similarly, what often binds us in life, preventing us from being free? A single win or loss can exhaust us; a gain or loss can cause us great anguish; an exam can keep us tossing and turning; a relationship can tie us in knots.
“For power and money, we run around in circles; for fame and desire, we are constantly entangled. Fame is a rope, desire is a rope, profit is a rope; the attachments and temptations of the world are all ropes. So the Zen master said, ‘All beings are like that cow, bound by many ropes of worries and sufferings, unable to achieve liberation throughout life and death.'”
The Wisdom of Living in the Present
A young monk once asked an old monk, “Master, what did you do when you were young?”
The master replied, “I chopped wood, fetched water, and cooked.”
The young monk asked, “And what do you do now that you’ve attained enlightenment?”
The master said, “I still fetch water, chop wood, and cook.”
The young monk, puzzled, asked, “What’s the difference? It seems like you haven’t made any progress in your entire life.”
The old monk explained, “You’re wrong. There is progress. When I was young, I would think about fetching water while chopping wood, and think about cooking while fetching water. Now that I am enlightened, when I chop wood, I chop wood; when I fetch water, I fetch water; and when I cook, I cook.”
Reflecting on myself, I often feel that I need to do something else while eating to avoid “wasting time.” So, I like to chat with others, watch TV, or think about other things while eating. No wonder I sometimes feel like “I don’t even know what I just ate.”
Enjoying the time spent eating and treating each bite with attention, I savor the sweetness of the rice, the freshness of the vegetables, and the richness of the soup. The world on my taste buds is indeed wonderful, bringing much joy to everyday life.
While walking, I now instinctively let my phone rest and focus on walking, feeling my feet propel my body, enjoying the natural comfort of the breeze, smelling the flowers, hearing the birds, and seeing the colorful flowers, green leaves, and various passersby. The scenery is infinitely beautiful, something I rarely appreciated before. Missing out and becoming numb was inevitable.
This series of practices has gradually cultivated the quality of “focus” in me. I increasingly embrace the concept of “living in the moment.” Of course, I know this is just the beginning; focus is a lifelong practice.
Once, the Buddha was residing in the Jetavana Monastery in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, spreading his teachings. At that time, there was a prince of a celestial king named Pilu. One day, he flew down from the heavens to the Jetavana Monastery, prostrated himself at the Buddha’s feet, and, with hands folded in reverence, asked the Buddha: “In this world, people are constantly pursuing clothes, food, treasures, pleasures, official positions, and territories. Are there any treasures that pursue people in return?” The Buddha praised Prince Pilu: “You have asked a good question. Indeed, there are situations where territories, treasures, and pleasures pursue people.”
Prince Pilu asked again, “What does it mean for the causes and conditions that fulfill people’s wishes and bring complete satisfaction to always follow them?”
The Buddha replied, “All actions can be categorized into two types: doing good deeds, which brings blessings, and committing evil deeds, which results in calamities. Whether it is blessings or disasters, they always follow each person like a shadow.”
Prince Pilu said, “This is truly extraordinary! Just as the World-Honored One has taught, in my past life, I was once a king among humans. Because I was aware of the impermanence of life and had no attachment to material things, I wanted to practice generosity widely. One day, during a gathering of my ministers, I announced: ‘I want to make a great drum whose booming sound can spread for a hundred miles. Who can accomplish this task for me?’
However, the ministers all replied, ‘We are incapable of doing so!’ At that moment, a minister named Kuang Shang, who had always been loyal to the court and compassionate towards the people, stepped forward and said to the king, ‘I can accomplish this task, but it will require some funding.’
The king said, ‘Great! Whatever amount you need is not a problem.’ Thus, the treasury was opened, and a large sum of money was handed over to Kuang Shang.
Kuang Shang transported a carriage full of treasures to the gate of the royal palace and beat the drum to announce, “Today, our benevolent king, with great compassion, is distributing wealth to the world to relieve all those in poverty and distress, as well as to provide for the needs of practitioners. Anyone in need can come to the palace gate to receive these goods.”
The news quickly spread to neighboring countries. The poor, carrying their babies and bringing along the elderly and young, came in droves, filling all the roads leading to the city. People would often look up to the sky and exclaim, “Thank you, benevolent king! We, the poor people, finally have the chance to escape the days of hunger and cold!”
A year later, the king asked Kuang Shang, “Is the great drum completed?” The minister replied, “Your Majesty, it is done.” The king asked again, “Since it is finished, why haven’t I heard the drum sound?” Kuang Shang responded, “Please, Your Majesty, take a trip into the city tomorrow, and you will hear the sound of virtue resonating far and wide.”
The next day, the king’s procession entered the city, discovering it was crowded and bustling. The king exclaimed, “Why are there so many people in the city?” Kuang Shang answered, “Last year, Your Majesty ordered me to create a great drum, hoping its mighty sound would spread for miles, proclaiming Your Majesty’s benevolence. I thought that a drum made of dead wood and cowhide would not adequately convey the king’s virtue. After much deliberation, I decided to use the treasures Your Majesty entrusted to me to provide for the practitioners and relieve the poor and distressed. Since the announcement, people from neighboring countries have come, hoping for Your Majesty’s benevolence, like hungry children yearning for their compassionate mother.”
Upon hearing this, the king asked the nearby citizens, “Where have you come from?” The people respectfully bowed and replied, “We came from a hundred miles away.” Some said, “I came from two hundred miles away.” Others said, “I came from thousands of miles away.” Then, they all declared, “Wise and benevolent king! Your widespread generosity has brought joy to the people of the neighboring countries. Many have even moved their entire families here, seeking to live under your benevolent protection and hoping for a stable life henceforth.”
The king was very pleased and said, “Kuang Shang, you have done an excellent job! Previously, I was attached to fame, hoping that the great drum’s mighty sound would resonate far and wide. Now, I finally understand that the unrest in the country comes from the people’s unease. Just as a sick body needs medicine to be healed, I should provide remedies to address the people’s suffering. You, my minister, understood the hardships of the people and distributed food to help the poor and needy, allowing the people to live in peace and return their loyalty to me.” Thus, the king declared, “From now on, as long as it concerns the people’s needs, take care of it to the best of your ability without needing to consult me!”
After the king’s natural death, he was reborn in heaven as King Miao. After his life in heaven ended, he was reborn as a Cakravartin (Wheel-Turning) King on earth, always accompanied by seven treasures and surrounded by followers who protected him. Now, he has again been reborn in heaven as a prince of the heavenly king. All of this was because he strictly upheld pure precepts and compassionately aided all living beings, earning such blessings. If we follow the Buddha’s teachings and rectify our body, speech, and mind, we can all obtain such magnificent blessings.
The Buddha encouraged Prince Bilu, saying, “A person’s actions are like a shadow following the body, or an echo responding to a sound. For every cause, there is an effect, and retribution is certain!” Prince Bilu, after hearing the Buddha’s teaching, joyfully made obeisance and departed.