vision

Magazine of the Non-Monastic Traditions of Buddhism

Proof, Provability, and Presence; the Art of Impeccable Verve

by Chhi'mèd Longtsal Wangdrak Künzang

Often when we talk about spirituality, we find ourselves at a loss for words. If we are lucky - in one sense - those to whom we are speaking will share our general view, and we need not explain. But often, this is not the case; and even when it is, perhaps the tacit agreement robs us of the opportunity to understand what we mean by the words we use.

Obviously, there is a staggering array of terminology - ranging from the poetic to the technical - which purports to portray the nuances of what we mean by `spirituality'. The terms we use - or reject - encompass a landscape of meaning which can be elusive if we approach it without understanding the full extent of its surface.

As a result, we may find ourselves at cross-purposes with ourselves - and others. We become puzzled by disagreements and frustrated by what we cannot understand. It doesn't matter what words we use, or to what system (if any) we adhere; as long as we are engaged in the dynamic cycle of perception and response; of communication, clarification, and codification; of struggle and relaxation: as long as we exist as beings defined by our transient relationship with reality, we are a part of the ongoing movement of development, redefinition, and disintegration.

But if we examine the foundations of this understanding - if we attempt to trace it back to its root - we find our certainty increasingly attenuated, until the point at which we acknowledge that nothing is there.

Depending on our habit, we will see this process differently - and we will use different words to describe it. Depending on our style of being, we may take radically different approaches to our fundamental situation. Depending on our culture, we may delineate the boundaries of spiritual and secular differently. Depending on our maturity as practitioners, we may have a wider or narrower view of what we are doing; but wherever we fall on this continuum - we are involved with the paradox of emptiness and form.

From a Buddhist perspective, the paradox of emptiness and form is our sole focus of work: Emptiness - that which never changes. Form - the diverse manifestations of the ever-changing moment. Non-duality - the axiomatic assertion that the two are inseparable. From a strictly theoretical perspective, we have little difficulty wrapping our minds around these concepts. But from a strictly theoretical perspective, these concepts do little to explain the sensation of being. And it is this sensation of being with which we struggle in our frustration - and into which we relax at unexpected moments. Unless we can somehow reconcile the significant and contradictory extremes of our concrete experience - then discussion of theoretical entities equates to ontological onanism.

If we are going to come to some understanding of how the language of our experience both shapes and is shaped by our patterns of confusion - or of liberation - then we need to begin with the fundamental experiential patterns of our mundane existence. Too often we accept a pre-digested understanding of our own situation. But if we examine the foundations of this understanding - if we attempt to trace it back to its root - we find our certainty increasingly attenuated, until the point at which we acknowledge that nothing is there. The mythical root of our convictions is empty.

This discovery is threatening indeed - and if we are unwilling to accept this fact of reality, then we may well avert our gaze. Emptiness is a fact of which we would like to remain unaware. However uncomfortable we are with the nagging feeling that our efforts toward resolution are in vain - we are even more uncomfortable with the possibility of discovering why. This is because, by the default action of samsara - the cycle of compulsive confusion - we proceed according to our premises as though they were valid. In truth, we don't know. We hope we may be right - that our convictions (although vague at bottom) may turn out to be as justified as we, in our habitual bravado, make them out to be.

However hard we try though, we give ourselves away. The naked perception of our own hypocrisy is too much to contend with, so we seek to obscure it. Rather than stare into the raw texture of our own perceptual continuum - we devise endless narratives intended to divert our attention. By believing the stories we tell ourselves, we set off in search of answers to our questions and solutions to our problems, confident that as long as we keep moving, we will eventually find what we seek.

It is not that our myriad theses, predilections, and preoccupations are necessarily so problematic. Rather, it is our dogged belief that they are primary and inviolate ingredients of our nature which is an obstruction. We are not content to see our beliefs for what they are. We must make them more than they are. We must prove that our views are correct. How we go about this is not particulary important; there are many approaches to the problem. Unfortunately, all such approaches are grounded in the insistence that our subjectivity is an absolute measure of reality - and that when it conflicts with someone else's, our own perception takes precedence.

Enlightenment may be a tautology, but if so, it is one we have failed to grasp.

While the celebration of our own perceptual position may be worthwhile, the denigration of conflicting positions - on the same basis - is not. By attempting to prove that ours is the correct view, we implicitly undermine the real basis of that potentially self-validating perspective. By insisting on our own objectivity, we taint the value inherent in our individual experience. Moreover, by attempting to shoehorn the sky of experiential possibilities into the cramped corner of our personal patterning, we find ourselves ever more trapped in our own tiresome logic - locked into the stubborn commitment of consistency, and without a clear face-saving `out'.

There is only one way out of this mess - and it is messy. We have to give up on our prurient preoccupation with the purity of our own position. Once the perception of emptiness dawns in the sky of our experience, we can no longer quite pretend we are unaware of its ramifications. We cannot be quite so enthusiastic in pushing our carefully constructed proofs - because at some point we realise that the structure of our argument is our own creation, and that ours is no more ultimately accurate than that of those with whom we would debate. We are stuck with an absurd contradiction - and must individually admit that: faced with the possibility of primordial intelligence, I have preferred to argue with myself.

Admitting this is not easy, but it is necessary. Once we realise that we are shadow-boxing, we find that the reality of our mess is not such a problem after all. Suddenly we are free to engage with the panoply of expressions available to us. We can afford to relax - without fear that our sense of precision will be eroded by newfound spaciousness. On the contrary, the lack of ultimate constraints heightens our perception of the immediate parameters of our situation, and our philosophical constipation gives way to the outrageously seductive possibility of living with impeccable verve.

When we live with fastidious commitment to unraveling the convoluted skein of our own seeming comprehension, we find ourselves unable to escape the reflection of our actual innate acuity. This is the method offered by the vows of Vajrayana - which can only be transmitted through the person of the vajra master. Only someone who is `like me' can pierce the illusion of self-obsessed autocracy and replace its deflated form with the brilliant mirror of empty method. Without embracing the unadulerated purity of the Lamas' three displays, we have no hope of talking our way out of our confusion. Enlightenment may be a tautology, but if so, it is one we have failed to grasp. As it is means owning the range of our distorted and undistorted emotions and recognising the manner in which our distortions hold us back from experiencing non-duality. When we do this, we discover, bit by bit, the freedom to play in the dimension of our Lamas' being - without the fixation, prejudice, or artificial limitation of habitual linguistic and behavioural formulations; with only the genuine shifting form of the interface between the three spheres of being as they manifest in our own experience. If we do this, then our need to assert ourselves dissolves, and we become a stitch in the fabric of lineage - an independently interdependent point on the thread of indestructible, empty continuity.